Bah, sorry about the long wait. It was like all my teacher's got together and decided to put all their major projects due on the same day. I had an English Project, a History Project, a French Project, and a Chemistry Lab all due on the same day. Plus a band concert. But, hectic week is over now, so I'll try and get my butt in gear!

Stubble96: Yes, I love Lark too. I've always kinda wondered why Beauty had to be the girl, and the Beast the guy. I guess I'm just weird that way.

Mistyqueen: Yeah. I just find that faeries happen to show up and find out who's nice for no particular reason other than sport, or whatever. But this might not be the case here. (Oo, foreshadowing)

Child of Immanuel: Thanks a bunch! I love to hear from my readers!

Black Sheep Alone: Whoa! I'm so honoured that you put me on your favourites! I only hope I can keep up the expectation!

Lollipop5: Thanks! I'm trying to make my own story as much as I can while still keeping the general theme (ie:BandtheB) the same. I'm taking my influences from the book and the Disney movie, so there's a little bit of mixing in there. But you think Clarissa's bad now, you just wait. (Oo, more foreshadowing!)

Thanks for the support! I'll try my very hardest to update faster!

I loves you all!

-Lulai

Chapter Four: Capture

Robbie angrily scrubbed at the pot in the sink. He absolutely hated his life here. One of four brothers, he was neither old enough to be respected, nor young enough to be loved. Plus the fact that he had no skills in trade or art or anything other than cooking and cleaning. He was feeling less like a man, and more like an old woman.

Robbie's scowled deepened. And he was a man, dammit! He was almost twenty! Far too old to be cleaning pots and scrubbing floors. He often dreamed of getting away, fighting battles and rescuing beautiful damsels in distress, just like in the stories that he read with regular enthusiasm, but then he remembered his skill with a sword, and he just went back to whatever meaningless task his brothers put to him.

Robbie took out his frustrations on the cooking pot that Tobin had scorched. His irritation only increased when he saw his brothers coming up the dirt path to the cottage. His two older brothers, Tobin and Quincy, were holding a large deer between them. His younger brother, Derrik, was carrying three sets of bows and arrows.

It was Quincy who had given him the nickname 'Beau', claiming that Robbie was only really good at sitting around and looking pretty. The name was a double blow, insulting him not only for his lack of talent, but also that he was the only brother who had inherited their father's brown hair instead of their mother's blonde.

As Robbie watched the three tow-headed siblings come up the path, chatting amicably, Robbie again wished that he could be somewhere else, anywhere else.

"Beau!" Quincy shouted as he entered the cottage.

"Robbie," Robbie muttered under his breath, knowing that it was useless.

"After ye are done the dishes," Quincy continued, not hearing him, "we want some supper. We have a beautiful buck that Tobin is cleanin'; we certainly couldna trust that to ye, Beau, and then after, when ye is cleanin' up, the rest o' us are goin' to the tavern."

"What if I want to go to the tavern?" Robbie asked.

"Ye? At the tavern?" Quincy laughed, an ugly hicking laugh that caused little daggers into Robbie's heart. "My dear Beau," he said, wiping tears from his eyes. "Why would ye wanna go there? All they do is brag and drink, an' ye neither have anythin' to brag about nor any stomach for alcohol."

Quincy was right, but Robbie still felt extremely slighted. He turned back to his sink and his dirty pots and pans, and his horrible life. "We're out of carrots," Robbie muttered.

It was Derrik who overheard that statement, having popped his head in the door for a bigger knife. "Outta carrots?" he asked. "I know just where to get 'em. That old witch always grows the best vegetables. I donna know how, prob'ly magic."

Robbie dried his hands on his pants. "How much money do you need?" he asked, going over to the mantle. Their funds were very low at the moment, as their father had not returned home yet to replace them.

Derrik had a sly grin on his face. "I donna need money. I'll just mosey over her little wall an' grab a few."

Robbie looked up, horrified. "You mean you're stealing from her?"

Derrik shrugged. "O' course."

"How long has this been going on?" Robbie asked.

"Oh, I dunno. A couple months, at least," Derrik said, walking back out of the door.

Robbie whirled on Quincy. "Did you know about this?" Robbie demanded angrily.

Quincy narrowed his eyes. "O' course I did. It's alright. There's four o' us, an' only one o' her. It's only fair."

Robbie threw up his hands. He would never win an argument between his brothers. He just hoped that Derrik didn't get caught.

"How long does stealing a few vegetables take?" Robbie exclaimed after he hauled in the remaining strips of venison for cooking for dinner that night. The rest he and Tobin had hauled into the smoke house to cure for later.

"I dunno," Quincy said. "He should be back by now."

All three brothers jumped at a loud knock at the door. Tobin and Quincy both looked at Robbie. Robbie sighed and went to open their door.

"Are you the brother of Derrik?" a jauntily grinning man asked him.

"Yes," Robbie answered with a sinking feeling.

"This is for you." The man handed over the note, turned around and walked away.

"Who was that?" Tobin asked.

"No idea," Robbie answered truthfully. He opened the letter. After a brief scan, he snorted and threw it on the table.

"It's Derrik," he said disgustedly. "He got himself caught by the witch and now she's making him work off the debt."

"What?" Quincy exclaimed, standing up. "I'll go kill the witch."

"Bah," Robbie said. "What are you talking about? She's letting him off easy. Thievery is a hanging offence, Quincy." Quincy had the conscience to look abashed at that.

"I'll go talk to the old witch, try and buy Derrik back," Robbie volunteered.

"Now?" Tobin asked.

"Of course not," Robbie said, slapping the strips of meat into the frying pan. "I'll leave tomorrow."

Lia was stirring a pot of vegetable soup over the fire when she heard a small commotion from the garden.

"Lia," Lark called from the doorway. "I caught something in the garden."

Thinking it was a rabbit, Lia answered, "Well, bring it in so that we can eat it."

The young man entered, dragging behind him a tow headed boy. Lia felt a little disparaging when she thought of how she would have thought him old, had she been her young self. She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts.

She turned nineteen a week ago, and as such, she was occasionally having trouble keeping on a brave face.

"He was stealing your carrots," Lark interrupted her thoughts.

Lia's eyes narrowed on the boy. "So you're the one who has been stealing my vegetables. What do you have to say for yourself?"

The boy tried to look brave, but then fell to his knees begging. "Please don't eat me! I have family, an' they would miss me bad."

"I'm not going to eat you," Lia said disgustedly, "but you are going to have to work off that debt that you accumulated."

She came forward to grab his hand to pull him up, but the boy flinched away from her, knocking into the table. As Lia watched in horror, the vase that she kept her rose in fell over, dumping the contents all over the floor.

Lark quickly righted the vase and added water, but it was already two late. Only two petals remained on the rose.

"How long?" Lia asked, her mind and lips feeling numb.

"About two weeks," Lark answered sorrowfully, before pushing the boy into the spare room and locking him in.

"I'm sorry," he said simply, as he knelt with Lia amidst the water and rose petals.