Another chapter. Yay! This one's kind of short but it helps move things along … a lot of parallels to Disney's B&tB. Sorry 'bout that.
Chapter 13
There were stars in her eyes, Raoul thought, gazing down at her. He had long forgotten that there was anyone else in the room; the orchestra was merely instruments playing by themselves. He would not have looked at her like that if he had remembered. Her eyes had locked on his and she was like a fairy in his arms, a piece of another world that he had never experienced before. He wanted nothing more than to hold her forever and dance the night away.
But the music ended and he was left hanging. They did not stop dancing immediately; even Piper seemed to be feeling the magic that wound in and between them and they stopped gradually, her eyes still fixed on his. Without a word he offered her his arm and they walked slowly towards the great window.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice mystical in the quiet stillness. He looked at her and suddenly, more than anything, wanted to kiss her. As he watched her in the growing darkness, the feeling intensified and he turned away, not wanting to shatter the moment with his human desires.
Human desires—and suddenly he remembered and his eyes flew to the great grandfather clock at the end of the hall. With relief, he saw that it was not yet six o'clock and he still had an hour before the horrible transformation.
"Are you happy?" he asked suddenly. He felt her eyes turn to him but he didn't dare look at her. And if she said she wasn't? What would he do then?
"Yes," she said thoughtfully. "I am." She hesitated for a moment and then: "But I would like to see my family once again."
Though unbidden, the memory of the mirror flew to his mind. It was in his back pocket; he was afraid to leave it alone for fear one of the servants would find it. It was an irrational fear for they had nothing to want to do with it, but he was more particularly concerned about Tovu who had begun to act suspiciously lately.
As if of its own accord, his hand moved to his pocket and withdrew the mirror. He handed it to Piper who looked at him curiously, her head tilted slightly to the side.
"'Tis a magic mirror of sorts," he said. "It will show you anything you desire."
Realization dawned on her face as she looked at it. She swallowed and spoke clearly: "I would like to see my family, please."
There was the familiar whitening and then suddenly, an image appeared in the glass. An older gentleman was lying on a long, luxurious bed, as still as death and white as snow. Two young women who bore a small resemblance to Piper were sitting by his side, each holding a motionless hand.
Piper gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. Raoul felt a strange sinking sensation in his stomach and his throat tightened as he recognized the man as Piper's father.
"He is deathly ill," she whispered, her face white. "He is on his deathbed."
Raoul cleared his throat. He felt oddly detached and drained as if he had just run a long distance. "You will want to see him," he said, looking at the mirror and the motionless figure.
"Please," she breathed and his eyes met hers. He saw the shimmer of tears in her soft grey eyes and then watched as a single tear marked a trail down her cheek. He knew then that he loved her, that he would do anything for her, give his life even, if it would make her happy. Slowly he reached up and brushed the tear from her cheek, his fingers savoring the smooth warmth of her skin, a warmth he would never feel again, a touch that made his soul burn. His fingertips lingered for a moment longer and then his hand dropped to his side.
Or it would have, had Piper not caught it in midair, her hands closing around his. She stared up at him, her eyes pleading for his permission. He would give it, he knew he would; he could not deny her anything.
"Hurry back, Piper," he said quietly. Her breath caught in her throat; his heart clenched inside his chest.
"I will," she said. "I will be back in two weeks."
"Aye," he whispered.
"Thank you," she said and her arm reached around his neck and she kissed him and it was as if a butterfly had landed for a moment on his lips, a butterfly that would never be forgotten if he lived for a thousand years.
And then she was gone with a sweep of green silk and a breath of fresh air and a memory of a first kiss.
Raoul turned to look out the window, his movements robotic and unnatural. Mrs. Lamphrey rushed up to him; she had seen the kiss and thought only the best. But before she could say anything, Raoul spoke.
"She is gone," he said mechanically. Mrs. Lamphrey stared at him. "Her father is almost dead and she must see him. She said she would be back in two weeks but she will forget me in that time and never come back to me again." His voice broke and he turned to Mrs. Lamphrey, his dark eyes tortured with the pain of a hundred years. "I love her," he whispered, "but I let her go."
For the first time in her life, Mrs. Lamphrey reached to him and drew him into her arms. He leaned against her and allowed himself to be a boy again, when it was all right to cry.
