Author's note:  Second chapter – again, it's a long one, but I think length is somewhat an unavoidable necessity in my writings…check out any of my other stories on ff.net and you'll see what I mean.  Anyways, on that note, let us begin…

Disclaimer:  Somebody once remarked in a disclaimer that fairy tales were free-domain, and you know what?  I think it's at least fairly true!  So there.  Okay, fine, I didn't really write Beauty and the Beast or any of the other fairy tales because I'm not quite that old, but the whole idea behind this story belongs to me, as does the world and countries it takes place in, and most of the characters.  To commence!

Beauty:

A World of Uncertainties

"Indeed Father," said Beauty, "you shall not go to the palace without me…"

In the winter months directly following the one in which I had my seventeenth birthday, Papa received news that some of his long-lost ships had reappeared, safe and mostly unharmed.  So he left me with the Baroness and Tizirra and traveled to the city in hopes of reclaiming our recovered wealth.

As usual, Nelisia instantly reverted from her sickeningly sweet, adoring mother's attitude to the dame tyrant's air that she usually wore towards me in Papa's absence.  Since we had no servants now, she had said to me upon Papa's first journey away from home shortly after we had come to live in Éindor, someone would have to do the work less suited for well-bred ladies of lofty station. 

And that someone was neither she nor Tizirra.

I did whatever she told me, which had mainly to do with keeping the house in order, preparing the meals, and working the vegetable, herb, and flower garden that we sold to produce from to make a small living, and that sort of thing, and life was fairly agreeable – given that I was away from my stepmother and stepsister, who very much disliked me, hardly concealing that fact even in front of Papa.

As I have said, however, my father went off to see to his ships in the winter of my seventeenth birthday.  Before he had left, he had asked us what we all wanted so that he could bring presents back to us, paid for with our restored wealth.  It was a terribly optimistic thought.  Nelisia and Tizirra requested – more like clamorously demanded! – all sorts of finery: silk and velvet gowns, ropes and ropes of pearls, diamonds and rubies for their hair, gold and silver bracelets and earrings, furs, and dainty new shoes. 

I was so disgusted by them that when he asked me for what I wanted, it took me a moment to drag my mind to a reply.

Well, he wouldn't be able to bring back the sorts of riches that they were asking for; when we had been well off, we had never possessed such money.  I thought, then, of what he could bring.  And so it occurred to me that there was something that I desperately desired…something that he could indeed give to me.

I asked him for a rose – a white rose.

When he had gone, the drudgery and the unkindness began again.  I woke each morning before sunrise to begin my work; Nelisia and Tizirra slept peacefully in their chambers until a few hours before midday.  And that was how things went.

One cold, snowy day, as I was drawing a pail of icy water from our well, Tizirra came up behind me.  My stepsister moved like a cat, and her eyes were like those of a cat: cool, watchful, aloof, and faintly mocking, and her clothing whispered against her slender, lithesome figure as she approached me. 

I pretended that I hadn't noticed her as she stood and gazed at my profile for a long moment.  Then, she spoke.  "Did you really want a rose now, or were you just trying to look better in his eyes?" She never referred to Papa as her father – at least when he wasn't around.  I gritted my teeth in irritation. "I mean, honestly, sister dear," she went on, condescendingly, "who would even think of bringing back such a frivolous thing as a rose after a hard and long journey?  Surely he wouldn't."

I wanted to slap her so hard that it would make her head spin, but I restrained myself, continuing to mostly ignore her. 

Tizirra's eyes gleamed, coldly and viciously.  "What do you dream about, Arielle: little Mistress Beauty?" she asked, her voice low and sing-song. "Is your head as empty as your eyes?" She was taunting me.

I set the bucket down on the stone rim of the well and rested one elbow carefully on its lip, turning at last to face her with my head cocked and my own face becoming slightly sardonic and cool.

"Really, Tizirra…I couldn't say."

I turned back to the bucket and lifted it off of the well's rim, preparing to go, but she stopped me.  I steeled myself for what was coming.  Tizirra's slate blue eyes narrowed and she inhaled sharply, making a sound not too unlike the hiss of a cat.  She reached out and grabbed a section of my hair that had slipped over my shoulder and yanked – hard.  I winced at the pain but otherwise did not react.  Tizirra released my hair and whirled around on one heel.

"Sallow-faced, dull-witted, half-blood minx!" she spat at me. "You should be taken by the powers you believe haunt this place – you don't belong here!"

She left me then, and that night, Papa returned.

Her virtue and amiable qualities made them envious and jealous…

*                       *                       *

I finished drying off the dishes from dinner and banked the fire in the kitchen, then went into the large, open front room of our house to join Nelisia and Tizirra.  My stepsister – who was curled up in an armchair reading, or pretending to read, a book of poems and sonnets – shot me a burning glare.  I averted my gaze, pointedly disregarding her, and sat down at the hearth in front of the fire. 

Nelisia shivered suddenly and set her embroidery work down in her lap, saying as she did so, "It's so rather cold tonight, isn't it?  Arielle, go bring in some more wood for the fire.  No one asked you to join us."

I stood and crossed the room and retrieved my heavy winter shawl from the rack on the wall in the house's foyer. 

"Oh, and by the way…" I heard Tizirra call after me, her voice cold as breaking ice and unmistakably derisive, "Don't stray into the woods, sister dear – goodness knows what creatures may lurk within its shadows just waiting to carry you off and put you under some spell!"

It was becoming hard to hear her comments and taunts and resist the urge to snap back, but somehow I made it to the door without reply. 

The wind was howling around the corners of the house, pelting it with ice and snow.  Its sound was like the heart-broken, despairing cry of a lonely wild animal.  I shuddered to think of Papa out in such a storm.  Just as I put my hand on the knob, the door suddenly flew open and a blast of icy wind and biting flecks of snow swirled in.  Dimly, I heard Nelisia saying, her voice seemingly muted and distant, "What has that dullard done now?  If I have to—"

But all I could focus my mind on was one thing – the ragged and mostly frozen figure that stood in the doorway before me, clutching something in its wind-burnt and reddened hands as if it was a delicate, tiny newborn infant.  For a moment that seemed to stretch on for forever and a day, I was too frozen to move.

Then, I remembered myself and started forward, crying out, "Papa!"

Nelisia reached him a fraction of a second after I had and, arms flung about him, we pulled him inside.  He was so stiff and so cold that I wondered if he had been turned to ice.  Nelisia tried commanding me to close the door and then tend to Papa's mount, but I fiercely held my ground and would not leave his side.  Together, we got him into the fire lit room beyond.

Tizirra returned from guiding Papa's horse into our tiny stable and closed the front door behind herself, then retrieved a glass of brandy – one of the last vestiges of our life before Papa's desolation – and gave it to him.  Nelisia and I had managed to maneuver him into the armchair that she had vacated and now we hovered about him like light-seeking moths.  My throat was drawn tight, aching and burning and stretched, and I rubbed his cold hand between my own, trying vainly to bring some life back into him.  His eyes had a peculiar, glassy shine to them that frightened me even more than his seeming paralysis.  What had happened?

"Papa, please!" I begged him, tearfully. "Please, speak to us – please come back, be all right!"

After a silent moment in which all of my fears – past and present – combined themselves into one, he ceased to be a motionless statue and breathed.  His head turned to me.  "Papa, what happened?" I breathed.  Tears burned in my eyes.  He brought something forth from his coat, which was, I suddenly noticed, no longer old and ragged, but fine and new: made of the softest doeskin that I had ever felt and trimmed with deep, luxurious fur, and held it out to me with a trembling hand.

It was a rose: the most perfect, amazing rose that I had ever seen. 

Its bloom was gigantic, almost bigger than one and a half of my fists, and its glory, white as new fallen snow and velvety as a queen's bridal gown, seemed to transform the dark, worn room in which we stood into a paradise of brilliant, shimmering clouds.  Its fragrance was overwhelming and completely intoxicating. 

What kind of dream is this?

I stared at my rose – my rose – and felt as if it was looking back at me and nodding its head in grave, wise assent, saying, Yes.  Yes, this is correct.  She is the one.  Yes, yes, yes.  Papa then spoke.

"Here is your rose, my Beauty…and dearly have I paid for it."

He then told us a story of which I could barely contain my amazement – a story of a light in the wood, a fantastic castle that was so enormous and so beautiful that it was like an entire city in and of itself, and the terrible promise that he had made because of the rose.  And he told us of a beast.

The Beast.

I felt an odd, somehow calm sense settle into my mind: a sense that I could not exactly describe, even to myself. 

It was as if…as if I had known…

Suddenly, there was a dreadful stinging sensation in my fingertips and I saw a blur of movement, both of which jerked me back to reality.  Nelisia had ripped the rose out of my fingers, dragging its thorns against my skin, and she stood, furious and almost frenzied, before us.  I gazed at her in shock and fear.

"This is all her fault!" she cried, half screaming and half sobbing.  She stabbed an accusing finger at me and I recoiled against my father's arm. "This is all your fault, do you hear?  You selfish, selfish, mean little brat!"

She rushed at me and hit me with the rose again and again with each syllable of those words.  Papa flung an arm out in front of me and held up his other hand, stopping her.  "Someone," he said, quietly and firmly, eyeing her carefully, as if she was a tigress whom he thought had a mind to spring, "Must go."

She stared at him, face white beneath her powder and rouge, eyes throwing sparks.  "Then it should be her.  The stupid little chit could only think of her own interests and now we are all doomed!"

"No." said Papa, in the same calm, even tone.  It was as if he was somehow resigned…to something.  "No.  Beauty will not go, and neither will Tizirra."

…In three weeks, you will send your daughter…

"I will go."

I turned on him, trembling.

"No, Papa!" I said, my mouth going dry, as my heart seemed to leap into my throat. "No, you cannot go!  You mustn't!"

His eyes, so much different in their dark brown from my own of azure blue, were compassionate and sad as he looked at me.

"I swore to the Beast."

He gazed around the room, at the bookshelf lined walls and simple furniture.

"We must comply or suffer."

"Let me go."

I was startled by my own words, by my voice.  It was if as it had come from another person's throat.  Even Nelisia and Tizirra looked taken aback by what I had just said.  The expression on Papa's face was one of pain. 

I rushed on, heedlessly. 

"You promised him a daughter.  You can spare me – I don't do much, but Madam and sister need you.  I…am not…afraid.  Let me go.  It is the only way."

Papa shook his head and I forced myself to be calm, steady, and almost emotionless.  Merely thinking about what might very well happen to me if I went to the Beast was frightening enough. 

But if I truly wanted to save my father and fulfill the vow made to the creature, I could not let anyone see what I was truly thinking of…

"Yes," sniffed Nelisia, sullenly. "Make her go.  It's her fault – it is, my love."

Papa stood, looking as if his back had hurt him, and when I tried to help him, he waved me brusquely off.  He then turned to face us and once more eyed us all one by one, his eyes hard and bitter.

"None of you know what this creature – this monster, this Beast – is.  You haven't seen him." He punctuated each word firmly, driving it into the silent, uncomfortable air.  I felt as if a storm cloud was hovering above our heads.  Papa continued. "Beauty, you say that you will go – but you don't know what you are promising.  Nelisia, Tizirra, you don't know what you would be sending her into.  I have seen this…monster," he said the word with marked disgust, "And I have spoken with him – it.  There's no horror like him…he's a creature that only nightmares can beget.  You don't know.  I am going."

And he turned and slowly went upstairs. 

I felt both Nelisia and Tizirra's eyes on me then, and knew that they were waiting to see what I would do – waiting to see if I would fly into a passion and kick and scream, or begin bawling like a frightened calf.  I kept my gaze anchored on the floorboards at my feet and they left, following Papa out of the room.

Only after I had heard the last door click shut on its latches did I move. 

I felt as if I was in a dream, in a world where only this room and I and the wonderful, pure white rose existed.  Slowly, I walked over to it.  Nelisia had dropped it quite near to the wide-open fireplace: so close that the very smallest flames from the embers there had managed to touch it.  Gingerly, I pulled it out by the stem, deeply grieved that such a beautiful thing had been destroyed. 

I almost forgot everything else – my life in Éindor, Papa, my stepfamily, even the Beast and the horrible vow then…

For the rose was still perfect.

I held it up, gently placing my fingertips along its firm, slender, dark green stem, gazing at it.  It felt as if it had just been plucked from a bush in a garden that spring had only recently stirred to life.

It felt as if it was…

Magical.

The Beast had asked for a daughter – for Beauty.  It was either her or Papa that he expected, and such an entity as this could not easily be thwarted, I felt.  After all, he was a beast, and beasts…

I had to go.

Something – something more than filial devotion for my beloved father – was compelling me to go, and I could not put it out of my head.

Papa wouldn't stop me.  Nothing would.

I had three weeks to remain in my world, and then I would go to the Beast.  I assumed that, if he was powerful enough to govern an entire castle with invisible workings, he would most certainly be able to provide me with a way to come to him…although what he planned to do with me, once I had arrived, I was in no way assured.  Why were maidens always asked for?  I didn't want to think about a few of the reasons why – the most pressing among those being that he had an appetite for tender young girls' flesh.  That was the wrong type of legend to refer to, I supposed.

What was he like?

My father hadn't described him in exact terms.  He had said that the Beast was a hideous creature that looked as if he had been composed in the darkest regions of the underworlds themselves, and that he spoke and dressed like a man.  "All black…" Papa had said.  But any more than that he had not described.

I was facing a world of uncertainties and I did not know how to cope with them.  I had no answers…I didn't even have any details.  But perhaps that was for the best.  It most definitely gave me a whole lot less to dread. 

So go I would and did.

On the final morning of the third week, I woke at the crack of dawn and dressed myself, then crept downstairs and outside, hoping that I wouldn't wake anyone.  I took the rose – which had not wilted in the entire duration of those three weeks as it had maintained a calm, silent vigil over my room from its place atop my beside table – with me and stepped into the cold, clear morning light.

In the courtyard of our tiny little farm stood a magnificent, pure white steed with a silver and white bridle and saddle, both studded with diamonds that sparkled brilliantly in the sun.  I stared at it for a moment, and then took one last glance at the house.

My heart would ache for my father – this I predicted, even if I had always told myself that one day I would be forced to leave for love, a marriage, a family.  A husband.  There wasn't any chance of that happening now, however.  My life in this world was over, for better or for worse.  In the time between this moment and…the fulfillment of whatever my destiny was, I would miss my father.  And I would be unhappy at the thought that I had never been able to reconcile myself with Nelisia and Tizirra, proving to them that I had wanted to love them, to be part of a family with them.

But now none of that really mattered.  I was facing a drastic turn of events in my life, and there was no going back from this moment.  My entire being was twisted with a myriad of emotions – uncertainty, fright, sadness, anger.

Excitement.

How…?

I had to go.

"Good-bye, Papa." I whispered. "Please…try to understand."

I went to the horse and climbed into the saddle.  After I had settled myself, it tossed its mane, as if it was eager to be off and had grown restless in waiting, and then we were cantering out onto the road and into the thick forest beyond.

And of course, I didn't look back.

My destiny, whatever it was, loomed up before me and I found myself able to think of only one thing.

The Beast.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

The horse took the direct road to the palace…

Author's note:  And what will these two totally different people think when they finally meet – are we to see sparks or love at first sight?  (It's fairly easy to tell, if you're at all acquainted with his character by now…)  Next chapter will arrive soon, but I would appreciate the reviews of all those who read – it might tempt me to post more, if I find people like it enough…  And yes I am totally without scruple when it comes to bribery, manipulation, and my stories.   ^_^