Author's note:  Anybody up for some beanstalk climbing?  I hope so – because that's where Arielle and the Beast are headed right at the moment.  Hang on…

Disclaimer/claimer:  I may not have created the fairy tales in this story, but I can certainly play around with them as much as possible.  And now we begin…

(Beauty's point of view, continued)

A giant…

I was seriously beginning to rue the longing-for-adventure penchant that I had had several years ago as a child.  The whole escapade with the Beast and his magical castle had done nothing but good for me, although I knew that it would take many years for my father to get over it, but now I had been kidnapped by a giant who lived in a large, drab stone house on a cloud and used oversize beanstalks to carry off his victims. 

Now it was getting to be too much. 

The giant, Ingor, wanted me to be his slave.  When I had come out of the black void of unconsciousness that he had put me into in order to spirit me away from the Beast's castle, he told me of his plans for me and my life in his house, and then he informed me that if I wasn't a 'good little human girl', he would eat me for dinner. 

Well, I had no plans for even staying for dinner that night, so obedience in this situation was not an option. 

The house was surrounded by a seven-foot wall, which was made – for the most part – of thick, tough beanstalks.  I could easily climb over it after I had gotten out of the house, but the only problem with escaping was Ingor himself.  I decided that I would have to wait until he was asleep that night. 

I hoped that he was a deep sleeper.

But then, when Ingor ordered me to go into his treasure room to fetch something for him, I discovered something very odd indeed, as if nothing else in my life before that time hadn't been odd enough.  A large, gray goose was living there amongst the heaps of golden coins and other treasures that belonged to the giant. 

A talking goose. 

His name was Griffith, he told me, and once, a very long time ago, he had lived at Avalennon and had had a very exalted position at its court.  That was, until Ingor had kidnapped him as well during one of the goose's vacations to the mortal world.  "So you don't enjoy living up here either?" I asked him, setting the dusty book that I had been sent to the treasure room for down on the floor.  Griffith shook his head, looking at me mournfully from his yellowish-gold eyes.

"No." he replied; then, he cocked his head. "Wait just a moment – you mean that you're living up here?  I didn't even know that old Thunder-boots had left the house!  Oh fates!  Oh no, oh no, no, no, no, no!  What is this world coming to?  Oh, ohhhh…"

"Good gracious indeed." I remarked, smiling grimly. "Actually, to tell you the strict, bland truth, I am not living up here, although I believe that Master Ingor would like to think that that's the case.  I'm leaving – tonight."

Griffith squawked, and I hadn't even known that a goose could make such a noise, and stood up, flapping his wings energetically.

"Oh, take me with you!  Take me with you, take me with you, take me with you!  I've been dying to get out of here – to be free, to smell the fresh air, to feel the morning dew beneath my feet, to fly about!  I mean, do you have any idea how limited the flying room is in here?"

He suddenly shouted that last, beating a cloud of dust up into the air with his wings and scattering several coins.  I ducked my head to avoid a flying ruby.

"Shh!" I said, clamping both of my hands down around his bill in hopes that that would shut the talkative, extrovert bird up so that Ingor wouldn't hear us. "I'll take you, I'll take you.  Just be quiet – Griffith, are you listening?  Be quiet."

Then I left him and went to give Ingor his book. 

Ingor was in the house's main room, a gigantic area with twenty-five or more feet from the floor to the ceiling, a gargantuan fireplace, and a thick, sturdy wooden table.  Ingor took the book from me and sat down in one of the chairs that were at the table, opening it and leafing through to the page that he desired.  I assumed that it was some sort of account volume that served to tell him what – or who – he had stolen that day.  I was moving towards the door that led to the kitchen when he called after me in his rough, uncouth voice, "Hey, girl!"

I couldn't help the sense of revulsion that came over me.  Giant or no giant, I wasn't going to hide the fact that I didn't remotely like him.  I turned and walked back over to the table, looked up at him, and answered, "Yes, Master."

He chuckled a bit and said, "I think I'm liking you as the scullery maid, pretty-face." Then, he added, "See those boots over there in the corner by the fire?"

I nodded.

"Go get them."

I did so, gritting my teeth and narrowing my eyes while my back was turned, and retrieved the boots for him.  They were made of a fine, smooth, deep brown leather, and when I touched them, they suddenly shrank from the size that would have fitted a giant's foot to the size of my own feet.  I nearly dropped the boots, and Ingor saw my surprised reaction.  He laughed and reached for them, saying, "Exactly.  These are special, slave-girl – they're known as seven-league boots.  A wizard owned them, before I stole them.  Lived in Restat.  Not much when it came to security though." He chortled roughly to himself. "They shrink to fit the size of the wearer's foot and can cover as much as seven leagues across the land with each step.  You'll be in charge of keeping them oiled and ready for wearing…or it'll be dinnertime."

The remark was more like a cheap, tawdry one than anything else, and it certainly didn't frighten me.  I murmured a servile, "Yes, Master," and took the boots off to the kitchen.  And then I had a very devious idea. 

I was already stealing, so to speak, the giant's goose from him.  What was to stop me from also taking his seven-league boots?  I had no idea how far from home, and I honestly meant home, for that is what the Beast's castle was to me now, the giant had taken me, and a pair of boots that would help me travel faster would be a very great asset.  And besides, I told myself, I've got more pressing things to be concerned about than an oaf like Master Ingor.  I quickly covered the boots with a tarp.  I'm an enchantress and I need to be back home, with my Beast.

My Beast. 

Groping behind me with one hand, searching for something – anything – to lean on, I found the edge of a chair and gripped it tensely.  My Beast.  I had just thought that: those exact words.  My every thought since I had awakened to imprisonment in the giant's house had been of returning to the Beast and to my home in his castle.  I might have seen this kidnapping as the perfect way to escape, to return to my family, or go elsewhere in the world.  And yet I wanted to go back.  I wanted to go to him.  What was my relationship to the Beast?  We were friends now…dear friends. 

His eyes…

There were things in his gaze that I felt, that I could see, and yet couldn't understand.  So many things – thoughts, feelings, memories even.  Memories?

"Fates, I want to go home."

"Well, I know, but you're going to have to be stuck with me again."

I whirled around at the sound of the voice, which came from the doorway to the courtyard, and I scarcely contained the shriek of joy that tore out of me as I flew across the room and flung myself into the Beast's arms.  I heard the door to the main hall close behind me and knew that he had, in all likeliness, closed it so that my commotion wouldn't be heard, but I didn't care.  He was here!

"Oh Beast, you came…" I murmured, and then I realized how close we were.  His arms had closed around me and we were holding each other tight.  I buried my face in his chest, inhaling the scent of him – that scent which reminded me of dark, smoky evergreen and nighttime.  Behind his shirt and tunic, I could hear and feel his heartbeat: strong and reassuring and steady.  Heartbeat and breathing. 

Finally, I pulled away and looked up at him, my hair falling in a light haze over my eyes, obscuring my vision, and both of his hands came up and closed around my face, cupping it and drawing it up so that I looked directly into his eyes.  He wore something very much akin to a smile on his dragon-like face.

"Of course I came.  I'm very jealous."

"Oh, let's just go home!" I said, stepping away and going to pick up the boots. "The giant's busy in the other room – and there's a goose in his treasure room who wants to come with us."

I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the passageway that led through the house towards the treasure room.  The Beast followed me, and I could only be certain of his confusion as we stepped out into the hallway.

"A goose?" he asked, disbelief in his tone. "Can this day get any weirder?"

I smiled wryly, hurrying down the hallway and searching for the treasure room door at the same time.  "Yes, but don't mention it again or we'll be jinxed forever.  I've already gotten myself in enough trouble with wishing for adventure!"

"You didn't have enough things to interest you with me?"

The plaintive, almost hurt note in his voice distressed me and I felt an involuntary urge to comfort him.  "No – no no no!" I replied.  We found the door and I fumbled with the knob, trying to get it open.  The Beast stood to one side, waiting for me. "No, it's – it's a long story…too long for now.  Griffith, come on!"

I stepped into the room, my eyes roving about it, looking for the goose.  He waddled out from behind a pile of gold coins, looking calm but only just so, and then he saw the Beast.  The goose squawked again and started a frenzied beating of wings, honking and raising an entire cacophony. 

Oh fates, he's frightened! 

I expected Ingor to come crashing in through the door any moment, but the next movement in the room came from the Beast, who moved forward with a speed and grace that was almost unearthly, and before I had realized what was happening, he had caught the goose's wings up against his sides with one arm, lifting him up from the floor, and with his free hand, he pinned the goose's bill shut.  Griffith continued to flounder for a moment, and then he became still and the Beast edged his hand away from his bill. 

As soon as he was free to speak once more, Griffith screeched, "Or—"

The Beast clamped his hand down on the goose's bill once more and looked to me, nodding.  He seemed a bit frazzled, if that was even the word for it.

"Let's go!"

We ran down the hall: I was carrying the boots, and the Beast was still holding a suddenly very cooperative and quiet Griffith under his arm.  Within seemingly just seconds, we were out in the courtyard and dashing towards the beanstalk hedge.  The Beast helped me climb over, tossed Griffith up into the air, and then joined us on the other side.  Once we had all gained our footing, we dashed for the beanstalk that led down to the ground.  I saw, as I peered quickly over the edge, that it had been anchored in the gardens of the Beast's castle, not too far from the place where the whole escapade of my kidnapping had begun. 

"All right…" said the Beast, quietly: almost under his breath. 

He was looking back towards the giant's house.  The lights from within it sent yellow lines across the fluffy white clouds that we stood upon, but all around us, the sky and the land below was completely dark.  The moon had not yet risen, but the first stars of evening had appeared to hang in the appointed places.

"Now go."

I heard yelling coming from within Ingor's house and a curious rumbling sound started up, and I realized that the giant knew of our escape.  I threw the boots over one shoulder and started to climb down the beanstalk, watching my footing but trying to move as quickly as possible.  The Beast and Griffith were right behind me. 

After a time of climbing that felt like only a few breathless moments, we were within five feet of the ground.  I jumped down and the Beast landed beside me in a perfect, graceful crouch.  Griffith began to run around in circles, yelling, "Cut it down!  Cut it down, blast it all – cut it down!"

"He's right behind us," the Beast said.  I saw him make several quick movements in the darkness and heard him say a few words in faery, and then there was a shower of white-yellow sparks and I knew, without even clearly seeing it, that he had enchanted a sword, or an ax of sorts to cut down the beanstalk. 

"Duck," he told me, a moment later, grabbing my arm, and we ran for cover. 

"But I'm a goose, blast it!" shouted Griffith, and the Beast managed to snag the tip of the goose's wing before the beanstalk came crashing down out of the sky. 

There was a deafening crash as it fell, and a definite cry rang over it. 

We remained frozen in our places for a long time after that, and then the Beast said, hesitantly, "I think it's over now." 

Slowly, we straightened and I used my powers to light the air above our heads.  Before us, the beanstalk lay in complete ruin, and there was a large, human-shaped hole in the ground beside it.  Smoke was drifting up from within it. 

The Beast saw my puzzled look and commented, "He dissolved.  All giants do, instead of dying." Then he added, with a bit of humor in his tone, "He'll probably turn up as a gnat somewhere now.  I pity the soul whom he plagues this time around."

I laughed, somewhat shakily however, and looked up to the cloud where the giant's house had been.  It was already drifting away.

"Fates."

Beside me, the Beast stirred: squaring his great, powerful shoulders and turning his head ever so slightly so that he could look at me.  "Well, this was quite an adventure," he said.  Then, his amused demeanor faded and was replaced by something more serious, more earnest. "I was worried about you, Beauty."

My affection for him grew tenfold and I wanted to reach out and draw him into my arms again: only this time, it would be more slow and knowing, and not rushed and impulsive…  I felt myself grow warm with a blush and was glad of the darkness.

"It's over now." I said, softly. "It's over."

We then returned to the castle and were greeted by some very anxious and agitated Sprytes.  The Beast ordered a few of them off to take care of the felled beanstalk and had the others go prepare a long-delayed dinner for us.  As we separated in order for me to return to my room to change my attire and smooth over my ruffled nerves, and for him to go attend to something, I watched his retreating back, thoughts whirling through my head and choking my sense of reality.

Beast, Beast, Beast.

Who are you?

*                       *                       *

Author's note:  Who is he indeed?  Will we ever know?  (Hehe, when have I ever left you all with a really awful cliffhanger for more than…oh, say a day or two?  Then again, I have this small aversion to torches and pitchforks…)  'Kay, next chapter then!