By night fall, the candles and table clocks watching the castle front had decided that Belle had somehow eluded the angry mob. However, inside she was still unable to speak, in a strong slumber but often waking with horrible dreams. Finally, just as the manor was beginning to fall asleep once again, she sat straight up and began screaming horribly for her father. "Belle!" Cogsworth exclaimed, the tea cart he paced upon racing towards the trembling maid.
"Where's Papa?" she asked, throwing the blankets from her.
"He's at your cottage in the village, dear," Ms. Potts quietly answered. "We've been watching him by the mirror."
"Can I see him?" she asked again, holding her brow. Ms. Potts nodded soberly and motioned for the cloak rack to bring the enchanted glass. The wooden post ambled over, carefully handing her the elegant handle. "Show me my father," Belle asked the mirror quietly, and the reflection began to swirl.
"Do not fear, my friend," Lumiere said while marching on the nightstand next to Maurice's bed. "You and I shall defend this castle until Gaston and his brainwashed followers are defeated." The old inventor smiled nervously and nodded, pulling the heavy blanket over his ears.
"I hope so," Maurice sighed. "Are you sure Belle is all right?"
"But of course!" Lumiere saluted, little flames flaring up with enthusiasm, "she is with the Master, who is the most noble, brave, magnificent…"
"He's a monster," Maurice quietly finished. "Lumiere—how did he become like he is?" There was a heavy pause as Lumiere looked to the edge of the table.
"Well, Maurice…"
"What are you doing!" the Beast uttered from the front hall, quickly striding over to snatch the mirror from Belle's grasp. She shivered and fell back, more startled than frightened. The vision was lost, and the Beast carefully set the mirror onto the tray. "You saw you father was all right; that is all you need to see." Belle gently cleared her throat, seeing he was about to disappear into the shadows.
"Please, wait." The Beast turned and looked back, blue eyes narrowed but watching. "Please…tell me." He began to walk again, but Ms. Potts rattled her porcelain top. I don't care what happens afterwards, or before, or any time...but I'm going to rescue her. He sighed, slowly walking back towards her. If she was ever going to love him, he couldn't keep pushing her away. He came to her side and pulled the wool over her arms.
"Long ago," he started softly as Belle listened with an open heart, "I used to be a horrible beast." Each of his faithful servants also stopped to hear the tale. "I used to think that the world was mine, and that I did not need anyone but myself. Then, I was changed…I am still a monster…but now I realize I need someone other than myself." He finished rather quickly and pulled his eyes away, hoping to hide the tears filling them.
"I saw a portrait in the West Wing," she slowly whispered. "Was that…once you?" The heavy paw that had rested on her shoulder left, and he pulled away to the dark halls. Ms. Potts gravely nodded in reply.
"You've changed him, dear, more than any Enchantress could." Belle began to cry, dropping her face into her open hands.
"How can he not see…the transformation left him no longer a monster."