I don't own Beauty and the Beast, just the story idea.
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Exploring
Tiptoeing around another corner, Belle found herself in an area of the castle she'd never been before. Clutching a new book in her arms as if it were a safety blanket, she peered into empty rooms looking for a suitable place to settle in and read, alone. Three months of having some form of living thing always around was finally getting to the normally solitary female, and she desperately needed some time to herself. She needed time to think and sort through the strange and alarming feelings she'd started having.
Why had she been so upset when he evasively skirted questions about his past? And why would no one tell her how the castle came to be enchanted?
Belle wanted to remain patient and give him the time and space he needed to come to her himself and tell her everything she was dying to know. She knew he was very private and aloof, and that he'd lived here with nothing but servants for nearly ten years. If she'd been alone that long she would brim with the desire for conversation and connection. But he wasn't her. He was different. And not just the outward appearance, which to her had become so dear that she saw nothing but safety and kindness when she looked upon him. Actually, that wasn't entirely true. She saw more than that. She just wasn't ready to admit it, even to herself.
Poking her head into yet another empty room, she frowned, starting to give up hope that the south wing had anything of interest to see. So far, five rooms were completely void of anything, not even a curtain to block the cold seeping in through the windows. With each passing door, as she got farther from the center of the castle, it grew colder. But she knew it would be so, and prepared for it, wearing her thickest velvet gown, and the beautiful fur-lined cloak they had given her.
At the end of the hall there was a long, narrow hallway tucked between two beautiful paintings of the French countryside. One depicted a sprawling manor house with an intricate garden, while the other was of a peasant dwelling, set at the top of a hill, overlooking a valley full of flowers.
They were the only things down this particular hall; paintings, lots of breathtaking paintings. If Belle knew anything about art history, she might have recognized the da Vinci, or the Raphael, or even the Rembrandt. But as it was, art was not something a poor girl from a small village was exposed to, so her appreciation of the mastery surrounding her could only be based on the artist's skill, and not the weight of the name.
Turning down the narrow hall, she could feel the air around her warming. It led to a different part of the castle, and only two rooms were off the hallway itself. One looked to be a beautiful bedchamber, except the bed was missing. However, it had a long dresser with an ornate mirror, an intricately carved and painted wardrobe that was far more elegant in design than her friend Madame Armando, and the ceiling was painted with a stunning fresco of angels and cherubs. It was a room fit for a queen.
Opening the door across from the bedroom, Belle quietly asked, "Hello? Is anyone here?" Something she'd done in every room that had objects of any kind in it. It was so easy to mistake one of the servants for a common item, and what she really wanted was to be on her own for one day.
The second room was exactly what Belle was hoping to find. It was a small sitting room with matching sofas in a light wood with cream colored plush cushions and one small bookshelf that had about a dozen dusty tomes sitting on it. A petite writing desk sat in a corner, cleared of all clutter, with just a simple empty vase perched on it. The back wall had a rounded alcove of windows, pouring light into the room, with a padded bench that skirted the indent. More lovely paintings hung on the wall, including one that caught Belle's eye. It was of a beautiful woman with golden hair and bright blue eyes, holding a baby in her arms. She dressed in the finest clothing Belle had ever seen, and a crown was nestled in among the curls. The baby was wrapped in a white blanket, with its cream-colored complexion and a tuft of light auburn hair atop its delicate head. The eyes were the same blue as its mother's and looked out of the painting with an intensity she felt was strangely familiar.
Belle stood in the middle of the room, looking up at the large painting that hung above the empty fireplace. She couldn't let go of the feeling she knew those eyes, and yet as she searched her mind through all the faces she knew, none possessed eyes that captivating color.
And then it hit her. The painting she'd seen in the West Wing on that terrible night. The one of the handsome young man with light auburn hair. Connecting the dots, she realized the tattered painting in the Beast's room was of this baby, grown up some years. She crouched down and placed a few logs in the fireplace, then looked around for a match to light it, but none could be found. Wrapping her cloak closer to her frame, she sat down on one of the sofas and laid the book beside her.
She felt triumphant to have placed where she'd seen those eyes before, and yet the question still wouldn't leave her. It was as if she'd only uncovered half the mystery, but not the whole of it. Thinking if she got her mind off of it for a while something might jostle loose, she picked up her book and settled in to read.
Two chapters in, Belle found herself reading the same line five times and still not processing what was happening, so she set the book aside once again with a sigh. Staring back up at the precious child and its mother looking down on her, a fleeting thought crossed her mind. Squinting her eyes, she looked closer at just the babies' eyes, and it struck, like a match brightening a dark room. Those were his eyes. How had she not noticed it at first sight? Only one thing had eyes that blue, and how many times had she gotten lost looking in them in the last few weeks? But they were on a human child, and he was no longer that, so her mind had dismissed the notion.
Looking at the painting with a new fascination, she studied the woman's face more closely and a smile spread across Belle's features. This was his mother. And she was breathtakingly beautiful, and so happy holding her sweet little bundle. She'd always suspected that beneath the fur and fangs, he was human, and this confirmed it.
If he truly was human, then the enchantment wasn't just some strange thing that made objects move and talk, and gave a beast a soul. No, it was so much more. It was a curse of some kind, that transformed humans into objects and a beast. Belle couldn't imagine the Beast doing something so awful as to earn a curse like this. Sure he had a temper, and at times could be entitled and snobbish, but so far she'd deduced he was some sort of aristocrat, or perhaps, from the look of the crown on the woman before her, a prince even.
If he was a prince, it would certainly account for the way he addressed and treated others. At least the way he had treated others. He still gave orders from time to time, but in the past two months his manners had improved greatly; Always saying please and thank you, making requests instead of demands of the staff.
But could her beast really be a prince in disguise? The idea thrilled her in a way she'd never admit out loud. He was more like a character in one of her books than she'd ever imagined he could be. Her mind reeled with plots of figuring out how to break his curse and help restore him and all the others, back to their human forms.
How were curses typically broken in her books? It really depended on the reason behind the curse. Sometimes it was righting a wrong that had been done, others required a sacrifice, while the majority were somehow linked to true love, or true love's kiss.
If it were the latter that was needed, she now understood why he'd been so tight-lipped about it, why no one would tell her anything of it. If true love was necessary, her knowing could be a problem. She was, after all, a very generous and compassionate person, and if there was a way to break the spell, she'd do anything to help. But she couldn't will herself into falling in love with someone. Not genuinely.
Since her illness, she'd been paying less and less attention to her own feelings because they were confusing and disturbing. She'd never felt like this about anyone before, and while she wasn't ready to call it love, it was definitely crossing the threshold beyond friendship. A smile would creep across her face every time she looked at him, and when he touched her, she felt her heart skip a beat.
Initially, she dismissed the idea she felt something stronger than friendship out of hand, because of their different forms. But if he was human and could be once again, the possibilities for them opened significantly. That small thought sent her heart racing. Laying back onto the armrest of the sofa, with a cushion behind her, and her feet tucked under her skirts, she allowed herself to daydream of the man he might become. Trying to recall exactly what the boy in the painting looked like and then age him a bit in her mind's eye. She wasn't an artist, and therefore couldn't adequately form the right image, but she did her best.
"Lumière, have you seen Belle?" Beast asked as he came into the kitchen just after lunch. A lunch he'd spent alone. So far every servant he'd poised this question to hadn't seen her since very early this morning, and he was starting to worry.
"No, I have not, Sire. I assume you've checked the library?"
"Of course I have. And the parlor, the drawing room, her room, the conservatory, the ballroom, the entire East wing, and half the grounds," Beast snapped, revealing just how aggravated he was that his efforts hadn't been fruitful. Raking a hand through his mane, it settled on the back of his neck where he pulled at the fur in frustration.
"Not to worry, Master, I am sure she just went exploring and shall return in no time." Lumière tried to reassure the Master, but even he didn't completely believe his words. It wasn't like Belle to disappear for so long, and it definitely wasn't like her to miss lunch with the Master.
"If you see her, let her know I was looking for her," Beast clipped, and then paused, thinking it over. "On second thought, don't tell her. Just come get me."
"Of course, Master."
Beast stalked out of the room, and a slight feeling of panic rose within him. What if she'd left? He hadn't checked the stable to see if Philippe was still there. Quickening his pace, he headed out the door, through the gardens, and around back to the stable.
Lumière clinked down the long hallway of the West Wing. Not that he expected to find the girl here again, especially after what happened the last time, but something drew him this way. The entire staff had been instructed to casually search for Belle. They didn't want her feeling as if she wasn't allowed to explore the castle at her leisure, but at this point, dinner was not far away, and she still hadn't appeared.
There were areas of the castle in less than pristine condition, and a few turrets that weren't safe, not to mention dusty attics with spotty floorboards, and then there were the cellars. Plodding along, Lumière recalled a hidden hallway, just before the Master's Chambers, that led to what used to be the Duchess's apartments. It was a shortcut the Master's father installed so his lovely wife could easily be with him at any time. From her side, it was just a hallway, but from the West Wing, they hid the passageway behind a very large painting of Aphrodite that was placed on hinges to act as a door.
Wedging the painting open, Lumière slipped through before it closed behind him. Lighting his candles, he plodded towards one of the doors that was slightly a jar. Peeking inside, he saw a small figure asleep on the sofa, a book open in her lap.
Lumière thanked the gods the Master hadn't found her here. There was no telling how he'd react to Belle using the former Mistress's private bureau uninvited. Even the servants never entered this area of the castle. It was sacred ground, best not disturbed.
As he clanked over to her, Belle startled. Sitting up abruptly, the book falling to the floor. Her eyes found the source of the disturbance, and she smiled at the maître d'.
"Mademoiselle, it is nearly dinner. We were beginning to worry."
His warm smile softened the concern in his tone, and Belle blushed slightly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to cause any alarm. I just needed some time to myself. I didn't expect to fall asleep." Taking a moment to rub her eyes and stretch, she looked around and realized it was dark outside and the only light source in the room was Lumière himself. "Oh goodness, it is late. We best get back quickly."
Bolting up off the sofa, she dipped down to grab the book and then headed for the door. Lumière followed close behind, ensuring there was enough light for Belle to see. Just before she skirted out the door, she glanced back up at the painting.
A prince in disguise, was her final thought as she closed the door behind them and allowed Lumière to lead the way back to the main part of the castle.
