Belle thrust the door open to her quaint cottage, her father sick and weeping inside. "Papa," she coaxed, throwing her cloak down and running to his side. "Papa, I'm home, don't worry." The confused old gent looked up and wiped his eyes.
"Belle? Is that you? How did you…you…"
"Quiet, Papa, you need sleep," she whispered, pulling her worn father into his small bed. She filled a pan with hot water and immediately started tea. The thunder clapped outside and she quickly closed the door. Felipe was safely resting in the back pen. Everything would be right again now. Soon Maurice was sleeping soundlessly, and Belle could retie her wet tresses back. Relaxing into a chair beside her, she sighed deeply, still shaken up. Her arm was bruised, but all right. Those horrid wolves, she shivered, they could have killed me. If they didn't, he would have, she thought. That…beast was uncontrollable. He would have killed me and my father.
The beast lay upon the cold blanket, the wolves scattered far and wide. They would not return for his body. No one would. A deep chill set in and his wounds remained untended. From the vines surrounding him, a magic arose, and the enchantress was there. Draped with beauty and the winter's charm, the gracious fairy sadly looked down upon the quickly leaving carcass of her beastly prisoner. "My prince," she whispered, her heavenly form lowering down next to his ruffled fur. "My prince, why do you sleep?" He replied not, now his wide chest barely moving. Her pure fingers ran over his arm and face, healing the open scratches and bites the canines had inflicted. Slowly, a deep blue eye opened and he once again drew breath. Heavy mist flew from his nostrils in heavy snorts, not able to move, not sure of where to go.
"I…I live," he moaned, words barely audible. As soon as he realized who kneeled before him, terror filled his soul and he growled roughly. "Tell me…tell me now! Do I live?" He questioned her angelic presence. She smiled, only faintly and placed her palm between his twisted horns.
"My prince, you deceive death tonight." He listened intently, still receiving deeper inhales. "I pull you from this fate because you owe me a promise. A collection is still upon the stalk of my rose." Her eyes flash and she rises to a stand. He blinks, eyes darting about for any others. "Stand," she commands, and he obeys. He gains balance upon four limbs. "Stand and return to the castle. You still have your covenant time to love, and find love. For your bravery tonight, you will live until you are twenty-five." The beast backed, moaning deeply and turning his shoulder.
"Twenty-five? Four more years I am forced to stay alive? At least when I am a full-blooded monster, I may choose to die, but now with this false hope, you wish for me to suffer more?" The enchantress extended her arms and thunder echoed. Her innocence was gone, replaced with power.
"You will accept this gift as you did not accept mine. Four more years you are given for showing love for another." The beast cried out, voice resounding from the silent timbers. He covered his disfigured visage with a wide paw, eyes wincing shut.
"Tell me the truth, Sorceress." She paused, awaiting his question. "There is another reason why I am alive. Tell me why you rescued me." She smiled, not pleasantly, but with taunt.
"It seems as if your destiny is taking a different turn than expected. I hope you have not grown to love your cage." With that, she was mist, and he ran into the clouds to find her.
"No! Come…come leave me dead!" He was unattended. Alone, in the cold, he was forced to try and understand what she meant. Four more years, he throbbed. He turned, in the shadow of his castle. Four more years in darkness I will wander.