Yes, I know, two updates in one day. I astound myself sometimes. Thank you, TrudiRose, for reviewing so quickly and faithfully. I hope it doesn't turn out like that beastly "Enchanted Christmas" movie ... The first bit might be a little too much like it but I hope it ends up different enough for you.

Chapter 11

Had you visited the castle two weeks later, you would hardly have recognized the place. At first, the servants were more than a little frightened of the master's declaration to have them celebrate Christmas; it was not like him at all. But gradually, as they watched Piper move about fearlessly hanging wreaths or red ribbons or candles, they warmed to the idea until Piper could not go anywhere without having some sort of decoration handed shyly to her. It was a different castle and Raoul was not quite sure whether he liked it or not. His natural hermit tendencies cried out against the outrage but something else made him stop and look at the boughs of holly for a long time when he thought no one was watching.

He still wanted to maintain some shred of dignity and so he stubbornly refused to have anything to do with the job of decorating. Piper had asked if he wanted to hang the wreaths so many times that he had gotten quite gruff and yelled at her. Instead, he sat in her room and read for hours on end or paced the halls looking for everything and nothing at the same time. The feeling of longing, which had been numbed for all those years, was sharper than ever, as if a knife was pressed to his heart and he tried all sorts of ways to assuage it. Nothing worked ... except for when he saw Piper. Then the pain dissipated though he tried hard to mask any change of attitude. The only problem was that the yearning came back tenfold whenever she left. He hated it, but it seemed as though there was nothing he could do.

"I am growing soft," he growled into the darkness late one night after a particularly painful transformation. Piper had long since fallen asleep and he could hear her soft breathing.

"Aye, master," said a voice in the darkness. Raoul sat up abruptly, his wolf ears picking up on the slight vibrations of the floor as the shadow-figure moved closer.

"Tovu?" he asked although he was not quite sure.

"Aye, master."

"Where have you been? I have not seen you in nearly a fortnight."

"I am sorry, master. I was otherwise occupied."

A strange, cold chill ran down Raoul's back but he was not certain why. It was just Tovu, subservient, slavish Tovu.

"The castle is unrecognizable, master."

"It was Piper's doing."

"You let her?"

"You would have had me stop her?" Raoul's voice lowered to a growl deep in his throat. His glowing eyes penetrated the darkness but it was useless; he could not have seen Tovu anyway.

"It is not like you, master."

"And it is not like you to question my judgement."

"I'm sorry, master."

But Tovu did not sound sorry and Raoul knew it. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling horribly exposed and vulnerable.

"I would advise you leave for the night, Tovu," Raoul said, his voice low, "before I do something I will regret later."

"A wise thought, master. I bid you leave."

Raoul heard the servant go but the odd feeling of forboding did not leave with him. Slowly, Raoul leaned back and waited for sleep to claim him.

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Somewhere deep within the bowels of the castle, the old man waited. He was used to waiting; waiting was a part of his life. He turned a small mirror around in his hands. It was a simple thing without ornate decorations, a little oaken mirror with a rose engraved on the handle.

He heard the soft chiming of midnight and smiled. The mirror would do its duty well; it had been bewitched with a spell that allowed the user to see anything their heart desired. Piper would find and want to see her family even when considering how badly they had treated her. She was that kind of a young woman and the old man knew it. As soon as she saw their plight, his plan would fall into place, a plan designed to bring misery to everyone involved.

Except himself.

With a gentle wave of his hand, the mirror floated quietly down the halls, past darkened rooms and closed doors until it arrived by a door where an invisible manservant stood watch. It hesitated for a moment and then fell to the lushly carpeted floor with a soft thud. The manservant picked it up and carried it into the room, setting it by Piper's outstretched hand where she would be sure to see it when she woke.

Softly, Tovu backed out of the room. He had done his part; the mirror had been delivered. Now all he had to do was wait. He was used to waiting.

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It was early morning when Piper woke; the sun had scarcely risen in the crystalline sky. She lay on the cot for a long moment, staring up at the carved ceiling. She loved the morning because it afforded her a little time to herself, a time to sit and think. She sat up quietly and looked at Raoul. He was still in wolf-form but as the sun's gentle morning rays fell across the bed, he melted into a human. The transformation was not a pretty sight; Raoul writhed and squirmed on the bed as he became human again. Then it was over and he lay still.

Piper sighed. She was getting used to it though it still pained her to see the transformation. What kind of man would allow someone to undergo such brutal torture every morning and evening for over a hundred years? It was no wonder to her that Raoul had become bitter and distrusting of the world.

With another deep sigh, Piper stretched and her hand hit something solid. She looked over and saw a little hand mirror. Curious, she picked it up. It was not lavish, not at all what she expected to see in the castle. She turned it over in her hands. It was engraved with a rose—the coat of arms—so it must belong to Raoul. How it had ended up by her cot she was uncertain but if it was Raoul's he would want it back. She stood and set it on the bedside table and then changed into her thin muslin for her brisk morning walk.

"You ought to wear the green gown today," Mrs. Lamphrey said quietly in her ear, making her jump.

"What green gown?" Piper asked.

"Mrs. Thomas thought you looked quite fetching in green and so she sewed you a gown to wear. 'Tisn't lavish but it is very flattering."

"Where is this gown?" Piper's voice was somewhat apprehensive.

Mrs. Lamphrey beckoned behind her and to Piper, the gown materialized as if from nowhere. Piper gasped.

"I couldn't wear that, Mrs. Lamphrey! Tis too grand for me."

"Please, child. It would make us all very happy. At least try it on."

Slowly, Piper took the dress and changed, feeling as though she were putting on new skin. It was a dark green dress, beautiful and shimmering silk, as though it was made from water. The bodice was embroidered with tiny green roses and the cloth fell quite becomingly off Piper's shoulders. Piper turned around for Mrs. Lamphrey, eyeing the sleeping Raoul the whole time.

"I shan't wear it today, Mrs. Lamphrey. Perhaps for Christmas Day?" Piper said though she loved the feeling of the silk on her skin.

"You must dance in it, Piper! You must!"

"And when shall I dance? Surely Raoul is not one for such entertainments?" She took off the dress and put on her old scratchy muslin, hanging the dress gently in her closet.

Mrs. Lamphrey deflated. It was true. The master did not care for such trivial things. But still, she was determined that Piper dance in the dress. Raoul must have every chance fo seeing her in her ethereal beauty.

Piper excused herself and went on her walk, wanting, to her shame, to feel the silk against her skin again.

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The first thing Raoul saw when he opened his eyes was the little mirror on the bedside table. It was not familiar to him so he assumed it must be Piper's. It was the kind of mirror she would have—simple, honest, and beautiful. He lifted it and gazed into the glass. Eyes as dark as ivory stared back at him in a face that once knew laughter but had long since forgotten how to smile. He was about to put it away for he hated mirrors, when a slight shifting inside the glass made him pause. As he watched, his face faded until he was looking into a surface white as snow. There was a pause and then suddenly Piper was in the glass, walking through the snow, her eyes bright with excitement and passion for life. He would have thrown it across the room and watched it shatter in satisfaction had it not been for the image in the glass. He gently touched the auburn curls and his face twisted bitterly. Would that be the only time he would ever touch her? Through the cold, impersonal glass of a mirror? But he could not look away; she had him transfixed. Every movement seemed graceful, even when she tripped and fell in the snow. He watched her lay back, laughing as she made an angel in the snow.

Raoul leaned back in bed. What else could this mirror show him? Surely it was magic though he wondered why he had never seen it before. Gazing into the mirror he searched for something else to 'watch'. Finally he said, "Kitchen," for he could not thing of anything else to say. The mirror faded into white and then suddenly he was watching pots and pans bang about as the servants prepared the morning meal.

He stared at it for a long time, saying random rooms in the big castle to see if it was more than a fluke. The mirror was showing him the ballroom when:

"How are you this morning, Raoul?"

He turned over the mirror lightning quick and looked up at Piper.

"Fine," he said gruffly, embarrassed to be caught, though he didn't quite know why.

She hung her cloak above the fire and stood staring at him for a long moment. He met the soft grey eyes after a minute.

"I have been thinking," she said. "Christmas Day is in two days' time." So soon? Raoul wanted anything but Christmas. "I thought we might have Christmas dinner together."

Raoul's head snapped back so fast it hurt. He stared at her, trying to gather his thoughts. Dinner? They had not eaten together at all since she had been here. Her first day's angry rebuff still rang true. Did she truly think he had changed? Anxiety replaced his initial shock. What if he did not live up to her expectations? He could not bear to disappoint her.

"Raoul?"

The sound of her voice drew him back to the present. Struggling to maintain a level of relative calm he said: "It would be a pleasure."