The cheerful bookkeeper opened the door to his humble shop, whistling happily as he stepped in. "Five new books today," he sang quietly, finding his desk. Setting down his new ventures, he picked up his pen and began to record their names. As soon as the tip touched his book, the ink splotted at the shattering sound of his door being broken. Gaston and Lefou swaggered in, a mob of townspeople behind him. "What's going on!" the shopkeeper cried, standing. "What are you doing here?"
"Over there, men, start pulling these shelves apart!"
"Gaston, look at this! A big blue ball with all sorts of…"
"That's my globe!" the bookkeeper shouted, catching his glasses from falling off his nose. "I demand to know what you are doing here!" Gaston turned to the elder with a sneer. Scowling, he laughed as an angry follower broke a stand full of history books.
"We're getting rid of this little shop of rebellion. Books are causing problems in the village, and we've decided that these…books must go."
The Beast's head throbbed something horrible, pulling him from his shady dreams. Opening his eyes, he found himself not in the dark, dim den…but a well lit, nearly cheerful living room. Shocked and a bit scared, he lay still, eyes rolling about to see if anyone was watching him. Slowly, but soon more confidently, he sat up. His head swam, and he clutched at it with a moan. He was horribly hungry and his back ached. "It feels like I slept for days," he muttered, mostly under his breath.
"You did, sire," Ms. Potts said shyly from her place on the tray. "Care for something to eat?" The Beast turned to her in surprise.
"Ms. Potts," he recognized. "What happened? I feel like…" Suddenly, his eyes caught up with him. As they scaled the grand ceilings and tapestries, he noticed everything was bathed in light. Color had found them again, and for once, his spirits eased a bit. "What happened?" he asked again, voice in disbelief.
"Don't you mind a thing, sire," Ms. Potts replied gently, pouring a new cup. "You just rest and find strength." Suddenly, he winced and dropped to his side again. It was still blurry about him, but one figure that slipped into his view was quite distinctive. Was it his dreams, or was the girl before him?
"Is he all right?" he heard the soft voice ask. Ms. Potts clattered about the cart before bubbling her top and inching closer to the edge.
"Better you wait a moment before trying to ask of anything, my dear, he's still a bit lost."
"Who is it?" The Beast moaned. "Who's there?"
"It's me," Belle quietly ventured. "Belle." A numbness filled the Beast's heart as his eyes focused on the tired young maiden. He didn't have to ask where the light and joy in the palace had come from. It was in the slight smile upon her pale, worked expression. "Are you awake enough to eat?" He was stunned; she had come back? How long had she been here? It all rushed over him in flashes and scenes. He had roared, a horrible, unnecessary fight—she had left in a hurry, but he knew she wouldn't get far. He had gone after her…was she now coming after him? Lumiere appeared with another tray. This one had a bowl with a thick, wonderful smelling soup.
"Sire, you must eat!" Lumiere excitedly presented. "Eat, please." Belle looked down and stepped out of the way.
"I…I'll go get another blanket. It's getting cold in here again." She turned and fled to the halls. The Beast watched her go, slow in reaction but still quick and confused in mind.
"Why…why is she here?" he demanded, the edge fading from his voice.
"She came back to help you," Ms. Potts explained.
"She came back?"
"Well," Cogsworth intruded, popping up from behind the meal, "we actually had to go an---"
"But of course!" Lumiere shouted with vigor, shoving the table clock out of the way. He tumbled onto the footrest, arguments muffled. "She must have seen the real you, Master! The you that we all adore and love." The Beast looked longingly at Lumiere, the candelabra's romantic performance awfully convincing. He carefully gazed towards the hall, still ignoring the food.
"She…came back for me?" Ms. Potts worriedly glanced from the struggling Cogsworth to Lumiere. The candlestick forced a smile and nodded.
"Why else would she be here?" A warm, foreign feeling came over the Beast; he wasn't sure what it was, or what it could be, but he found himself able to sit up and hold his horned brow. She had come back; and back, for him.