Author's note:  Here we are given a bit more insight from the Beast's POV, after he has met Beauty for the very first time.  It's already obvious that sparks are destined to fly between these two, but what else is fated to happen?  Read to find out.  Thanks, by the way, to all who have reviewed.

Rosethorn: a special thank you for undertaking the monumental responsibility (although it may be more of a pleasure to you!) of keeping my dear little troublemaker Gavin out of mischief.  I'm glad you are enjoying my second story, and have no fear, Arin, Ella, and Gavin will make a cameo somewhere in here, although it won't be for a little while.

Lexi: Sorry, I would have e-mailed you with the answers to your questions, but under parental jurisdiction, I am no longer allowed to correspond with "anyone I don't know".  But hopefully, I will still be able to tell you what you want to know from here.  ^_^  Orlando – yes, that is his original name, and yes, he still remembers it.  He was also a faery nobleman, who would have eventually become a prince, but the whole curse thing kind of ruined that.  Also, I have almost all of the chapters for this (except for the grand finale, mwahahaha) written up on the computer.  Let's just see if I can conquer my writer's block enough to complete it…

Disclaimer/claimer:  Some are mine, and some aren't.  You decide which is which.

(Beast, continuing from the last segment…) 

"…but still I am a monster."

The next morning I awoke with a stunning headache and the realization that I would have to see my new captive, for that was what Arielle Honorine Bellissima Rose Laclarien now was to me, sometime that day.  I supposed that I ought to let her settle in to the castle first, and see whatever she wished to see while she familiarized herself with her new surroundings.

I kept myself occupied all that day then, giving out orders and taking reports from the Sprytes, who all seemed very much elated to have a guest, and such a beautiful guest at that, to play servants to.  I could only guess at what Beauty thought of their service to her, because I was already quite accustomed to it, to magic and enchantment on the whole, and could no longer marvel in what I saw. 

She and I did not come across each other all that day.

As dusk fell, however, I began to turn my thoughts towards seeking her out. 

Where would she be – in one of the many libraries, perusing the volumes there, or surveying a dining hall or ballroom, or perhaps looking around at the gardens outside? 

My last guess proved to be the most accurate, for I sighted her slowly weaving her way through the marble paths in one of the gardens that was closest to the castle.  She appeared to be in deep contemplation. 

Obviously, she had discovered the jewelry and other finery that I had had provided for her use, for she wore a few articles of it, which sparkled in the waning light of the sun.  The cloak that she wore over her normal attire was dark, its hem and edges lined with some kind of fur. 

I decided that I would let her make the decision of whether we would speak to one another or not, and stepped out of the shadows beneath the doorway which I stood behind, letting the ebbing sunlight fall over me.  I had pulled the hood of my cloak over my head once more, so that my face remained hidden. 

It was almost as if she had sensed my presence on the stone terrace that overlooked the gardens in which she walked.  She looked up, her long eyelashes flickering like the light of a candle that had been disturbed over the brilliance of her eyes, and our gazes met.  Then, she paused in her progress towards the stairway that led up to the terrace.  I took a deep breath and moved down the steps, slowly, and came to stand a little ways in front of her.

"Good evening, milady." I said.

She curtseyed, her eyes never leaving me.

"Good evening, Beast," she replied.

I regarded her for a moment longer in silence, and then inquired, "I hope you have had a pleasurable time on your first day here?"

Something rippled through the air between us – some emotion that I could sense emanating from her, something like both slight resentment, loneliness, questioning, and…perhaps…fear.  I ignored it, and then she nodded, slowly: her light hair moving with her head, and her fingers rearranged their grasp on the book that she held in them as she adjusted the hang of her cloak.  As I gazed closely at her features, discovering that there was something familiar about them, as if I had seen other features like them before. 

But that couldn't be. 

"Yes – thank you." she told me, and she gestured briefly at the castle and the gardens. "I've been…exploring a bit.  Your servants…"

She hesitated, as if she was unsure of what to call them, and I cleared my throat a bit, then supplied for her, "Sprytes."

Visibly recognizing the name, she nodded and continued, "They've been quite instrumental in my finding my way around this place.  I…"

She hesitated again.

"I could get lost very easily here, knowing myself."

You have no idea, I thought, my lips curving upwards in the grim semblance of a smile.  "Oh…yes."

We stood in silence for a moment after that, and then she spoke, surprising me yet again. "Would you walk with me?" she asked, hesitantly, as if she thought I would refuse.  I stared at her, briefly startled that she could possibly desire my companionship, and then I mastered my emotions and nodded.

"If you so desire, milady."

I followed her down the snowy footpath, heading in the opposite direction that she had come from, and she paused to wait for me to join her at her side.  We then walked down the path, past the glorious explosion of jasmine, orchids, and ivy vines, past the sprays of sweet-smelling gardenias and colourful dahlias that bloomed in spite of the coldness of the perpetual winter that lived in the castle's lands, and past the stately statues, stonework, and other artwork that I had displayed in the gardens.  The air was heavy with silence.  Finally, she spoke, tentatively.

"It's very quiet here."

"Too quiet." I replied, frowning darkly.

We walked on again, silent, and then, after a while, I carefully stole a glance at her, turning my head only a few degrees so that I would make minimal movement, peering beyond the edge of my hood.  She was looking off at our surroundings: a distant and give-nothing cast to her eyes and face.  It wasn't hard to read her at that moment – her heart was elsewhere, far from this castle – far from me.  I shuddered slightly, thinking of how once I also would have done the same, given the same reaction, if I had been met with a creature such as the one I now was. 

Once, very long ago…once upon a time… 

My train of dreary, black thoughts was suddenly interrupted when my beautiful companion stopped, turning towards me with a questioning, searching look in her eyes.  I looked at her, polite inquiry in my air, but in the next split second, I was taken completely off-guard by her words, seemingly simple as they were.  My wits went flying, and I was forced to go scrambling after them, hoping for a recovery. 

"Why did you ask for me?"

Stunned by this, I took a moment to consider my reply.  In the meantime, I swept an automatically elegant courtier's gesture for her to walk on ahead of me around a turn in the pathway, disguising my hesitation towards a reply, and then followed behind her, once more joining her at her side when the path broadened again. 

I found that I had to place my steps very carefully when walking with her; one stride of mine could easily outdistance hers, which all the more served to remind me of how tiny she was compared to me: the monster.  I felt like a giant standing next to her, looking straight down onto the top of her head.  But, with some conscious effort, I managed to keep a relatively adequate pace. 

To answer her question, however—

"Because…" I began, as we rounded a curve in the pathway that led towards a long, high wall that was covered entirely in roses – what else? "Because you had asked for a rose.  You seemed special."

I stopped then, turning halfway towards her, my back to the wall, and then I took my eyes from hers for a moment in order to do one simple thing – and that was to break a large rose off of its place on the stem where it grew and hold it out to her.  Her eyes lifted from the rose in my paw to meet my eyes, and we gazed at one another for a long, serene moment.  Then she took the rose from me, but her fingertips never touched mine.

My heart was gripped by talons of bitter iciness.

Suddenly, she dropped gracefully into a bench that stood behind and to the side of us.  She wouldn't look up at me then, but stared, instead, at the rose.

"Am I special."

The sentence seemed more like a statement than a question, and her voice was low and even, and almost emotionless.  I saw that her bright eyes had turned to look off into the distance, gazing at a sight, a world, that was beyond that which was immediately in front of our eyes.  I shuddered inwardly, and then I spoke, breaking the silence.

"They're yours – all of them."

That appeared to startle her, for she took her eyes off of the rose that she held in her lap and looked up at me, staring and seemingly bewildered. 

"How can you give them to me?" she asked, continuing the conversation without pausing to have me clarify for her what 'they' were.  We both knew that I had meant the roses, of course.  It was strange how we had managed to understand the unspoken in one another not merely once but twice since her arrival and our meeting the evening before.  She knew the words that I hadn't said as well as I knew the words that she hadn't said.

I refused to look directly at her as I replied to that.

"Because I desire you to have them."

"I thought…" she trailed off, and it looked as if she was searching for words, a line appearing between her arching eyebrows, and finally she said, "All of this happened because Papa took one of your roses."

"And you thought that they were forbidden to you as well?" I guessed, caustically.  I shifted in position so that I faced her again, and my eyes met hers from underneath the shadowing cover of my hood.

"You are as much the mistress of this castle as I am the master, and I can deny you nothing.  They are yours."

I can deny you nothing but your freedom…the one thing that you must desire the most.

She was quiet for a moment longer, and so was I.  We were both too utterly absorbed in our own thoughts to speak quite yet, and when she looked up at me again, I was surprised to find that the questions in her eyes had disappeared.

"Could you tell me their names?"

Oh, be careful you fool…don't be taken in…

But I answered, "I could tell you more than that, milady…"

*                       *                       *

"But, tell me, do not you think me very ugly?"

The sun had just set when we returned to the terrace that I had first seen her from that afternoon.  Arielle was a very attentive listener, I had discovered during our meandering through the rose gardens.  So not only was she charming, kind, brave, honourable, and astoundingly sweet in spirit – she was also gracious and witty, and knew when to speak and when to be silent.  Her voice was like music.

When we had reached the stairway leading up to the terrace and the castle itself, I stood aside to let her pass in front of me and was about to speak when she turned around, pausing a few steps above me, and spoke.

"Won't you join me?"

I lowered my gaze, ducking my head in order to avoid letting her see the emotion that had sprung to my eyes: total and utter humiliation.

"I-I can't." I stammered, my heart beating faster that it had the moment before. "I – I'm – I'm not like you, Beauty.  I…"

There is no explaining this to her! I snapped inwardly at myself, furious at everything and anything.  You are a monster!  She will never understand!

Suddenly, an awful, overwhelming sadness and then rage swept over me like a gigantic wave on the ocean shore, and I looked up at her, my anger and grief reflected in my eyes.  Silently, trying very hard not to erupt into direct violence in front of her, I raised my gloved hands from inside my long black cloak and held them up for her to see them.  Then, staring straight into her widening eyes, I commanded her.

"Look."

And with that, I slowly and deliberately removed the gloves, one finger at a time, placing them in one paw when I had them both off.  I extended my right arm, bending it at the elbow, and held it so that my hand was facing with its back to her, mere inches from her pale face.  I stared into her eyes again and repeated myself.

"Look."

Then I tightened the muscles of that arm, and a queer trembling sensation went through it, from the fingertips to the shoulder—

Nine inches of wicked, shining ivory claws shot out of my fingertips, brandishing themselves at her. 

I refused to release her from my stony, cold gaze as I pulled my hand back, away from her face, and wordlessly took the rose that I had given her earlier from her hand.  I gazed at it for a moment, wondering how so many things – how so many things, both those sublimely beautiful, loved by all, and those frighteningly ugly, repulsive to one and to all – could exist side by side in such a world.  I realized that she was still watching me, in complete silence, and I looked up at her.

And savagely shredded the rose between my razor-sharp claws.

I stood back, resigned and gripped by bitter grief.

"That is why I can't, milady.  Good night."

After that, I somehow controlled myself just long enough to bow to her, feeling as if I was about to tear into shreds with the threatening violence of my anger.  She gazed at me for a split second longer: a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, and then she turned and, without a word, fled back to the castle.  I watched her go, my eyes never leaving her slender, tiny body until she had disappeared within the fortress.

So this is the way it is to be.

We are caught like this, in this invisible trap: this net of horror and despair, and there will never be any escape for either of us…you, and me. 

I wish I could have made this better – for you, for me, for both of us. 

I wish I could have been myself…

But that is what I am this very moment, isn't it?

This strange, detached, abnormal voice in my head spoke now: softly and sadly, completely unlike my usual thoughts.  And somehow, its words angered me all the more.  My entire body beginning to tremble, I pushed my hood back onto my shoulders and raised my paws once more: staring at them as horror, revulsion, and complete and dire hatred raced through me, making my blood rush.

Who was this creature that had become my body?  Who was this awful monster that had somehow trapped my soul within itself?  I had once been an enchanter and future prince in the White Realm, and now what was I? 

A beast! 

No longer would I see a head of half-curly, half-wavy, and very much unruly golden-brown hair in my reflection in a mirror, no longer would I see a pair of large, hungry, intense light blue eyes looking out at me from the depths of my being or a face set with high, thoughtful features.  No longer would I have a normal body or hands that were able to grasp a sword or a quill.  Instead, I had a malformed figure and rough, scaly paws tipped with needle-sharp claws, too clumsy to even undo the clasp of my cloak without ripping it to shreds!

And Beauty. 

She wasn't a mere child, a little nothing that my pride had so willingly enabled me to brush her off as the night before.  She was a beautiful, incredible young woman, and what could I give her that she would deserve?  I couldn't offer her a life here.  What was I to a vision of loveliness like her? 

I was a beast, and I was trapped, and there was no way out.

Oh no, you fool, a part of my mind told me, in a knowing tone.  There is a way out, and you know it.  You know it all too well.

"No." I said, and the word came out sounding like the whimper of a frightened child.  I felt myself collapsing inwardly.

I couldn't remain in her company for very long without being reminding of my beastliness.  Even in that afternoon, hadn't I found my mind wandering from my explanation of a certain rose's name to considering what she would think of me if she saw what I did to the creatures that became my prey?  I couldn't eat with her.  My table manners had long since vanished, and my disgrace would never end if she ever knew how I behaved after the sun had set. 

I was a monster.

That thought somehow finished it – I could restrain myself no longer.  I let off a great howl of pathetic, animal heart-soreness and anguish and then bolted for the forest: the only place where I could completely tear all memories of who I had been from my mind and make myself forget.

The night air that had rushed into my lungs as I gasped for breath during my flight made my blood race intensely, filled with an exhilarating coldness.  I felt the wind in my mane, zipping against my skin, and the forest rushed by me with startling speed: a great, rustling darkness.  My cloak, outer tunic, gloves, and boots were gone, leaving only the tattered remains of my shirt to keep my shoulders, arms, and torso from being exposed to the icy winter air.

Now, at last, I was free to be the one thing that I had hoped to never become.   

Silent and lightning-fast, I tore through the forest as the rays of the moon that had managed to find their way down through the canopy of the tree branches glided and flashed over me like teasing phantoms.  In a wide-open, bright clearing stood a doe, foraging about for some small bit of vegetation that had survived the frost, snow, and ice.  She didn't have a care in the world. 

I stopped and crouched in the brush, gathering myself together.

You see, forest creature, I said mentally, within my head, there's a fatal mistake in thinking that there's nothing for you to concern yourself with.  There are many dangers in the world, and if you don't look for them, you'll be destroyed.  You'll underestimate something, and then your life as you know it…

Will be over. 

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

"I am almost frightened to death…

Author's note:  So there we have it: more of the thoughts behind the actions.  Beast isn't going to be such a brat the whole time, and you really almost have to pity him – he's really a nice guy inside and he wants to do what's right, but living under a curse for three centuries and being severed from your family because of that is bound to mess with your mind a little.  (Not to mention warp your manners…)  Please r&r! 

@à---