CHAPTER 2:

Belle had not taken long to locate her father. Even in the dark she could see him, fainted on the ice-slickened snow of the forest floor. Once she got him gathered up and had conveyed him back to their home in the village, she put the old man straight to bed. She had barely pulled the sheets over him before he awoke.

"Belle?" he called, gazing upon her in awe. He was confused by his surroundings. Waking up in a different spot than where you fell asleep will do that.

"Shh. It's all right, papa. I'm home," she answered, smiling in relief. She dabbed his forehead with a damp towel.

Maurice smiled the broadest smile he ever had. "I thought I'd never see you again!" he cried. He nearly leapt from the bed as he embraced his daughter.

"I missed you so much!" replied Belle, returning the hug to his chilled body. Despite this alarming state, she could plainly see he was doing much better than when she had found him.

"But the Beast!" continued Maurice. "Did you… how did you escape?"

"I didn't escape, papa," she answered sweetly. "He let me go."

Maurice couldn't believe it. "That horrible Beast?"

"But he's different now, papa," protested Belle, smiling softly. "He's — changed somehow."

Suddenly Belle's satchel spilled open at the foot of the bed. Out fell both the magic mirror and, unexpectedly, the living, slightly damaged teacup known as Chip.

"Hi!" cried Chip, with all the innocent excitement due to a child his age.

"Oh! A stowaway!" exclaimed Belle with a laugh. She realized that she might now have to return back to the castle sooner than she had intended — surely Chip didn't have his mother's permission to accompany her.

The little cup leapt in large bounds across the bed, into the joyously outstretched hands of Maurice. He greeted the young one cheerfully, remembering him from his brief visit to the Beast's den. "Hello there, little fella. Didn't think I'd see you again."

True to his age, Chip completely ignored Maurice's greeting and went direct for the throat of the matter that had compelled his unexpected visit. "Belle? Why'd you go away?" he asked, turning towards her. "Don't you like us anymore?"

"Oh, Chip!" said Belle, finding him adorable despite the pain his remark caused her. "Of course I do," she said. "It's just that my father needed my help."

"So you weren't going to leave us?" asked the little teacup, hope building across his little porcelain face.

"Chip," said Belle, smiling. "You know I like you all, and I've had a wonderful time at the castle. But this is my home, here in the village, here with my father. You wouldn't like to be taken away from your home forever, would you?"

Chip thought out the words of Belle, and with a frown he slowly rotated his body in his best approximation of a shake of the head.

"I'll still be back to visit you at the castle," Belle reassured. "Afterall, the Beast gave me that whole library. I'll have to go out there from time to time to take some books. I wasn't going away forever. But right now, papa is sick and he needs me —"

"Sick!" cried Maurice, springing from the bed defiantly. "I've never felt better in all my life." Chip leapt from the old man's hand and chased after him as he marched from the room.

"So are we going back to the castle tonight?" asked Chip, gleefully.

Belle was distracted by her father's surprising reaction. "Papa! I've just brought you home. You have to get some rest. Anything that needs to be done will keep till morning."

Maurice was more concerned by the appearance of weakness before a visitor than he was about damaging his health any further. "I just have a real hankering for some tea," he said in excuse, bounding for the cottage's little dining area. To describe it as a kitchen would be an exaggeration — there was a fireplace over which kettles and cauldrons could be heated. It was not atypical of the style of rural house in which they lived.

Something that was atypical was how their home sat almost perpetually alight with candles and lamps. This was due to a creation of Maurice the inventor, which automatically sparked a sequence of wicks the moment the front door was opened. Through the well-lit rooms he traveled, and at the hearth he began to build a fire for heating some tea.

Chip and Belle followed, the latter carrying a blanket which she insistently draped over Maurice's shoulders.

"But we have to go back tonight!" cried Chip. "It's important!"

Belle and Maurice laughed sweetly at the little boy.

"Oh, Chip," said Belle sympathetically. "You need to learn to be patient. Philippe, the horse, has already had to carry us all the way out here in the cold. He needs a good night's rest before he can make the trip back to the castle. We'll bring you home to your mother then — first thing in the morning, I promise."

She noticed that Chip seemed dismayed by her remark, but the little cup fell silent.

For the next hour or so, Maurice and Belle drank tea. Maurice used Chip for his vessel, provoking excited giggles from the juvenile cup as the mustache tickled his brim. Belle acquainted her father with all that had transpired during her time at the castle: she told how the Beast, although initially seeming to be cruel and dangerous, proved to be merely lonely and socially inexperienced. As soon as he was given the opportunity to interact with someone, he became such a sweet, gentle, caring and affectionate individual, that — she insisted — one couldn't help but like him.

"Tonight we even had a ball, just the two of us!" she explained. "It was wonderful! There was music, a feast, they brought me a golden gown…" her joy subsided very suddenly as her memory progressed. "But then… he showed me a magic mirror. Did you know there was such a thing? It can show you anything you wish to see. I asked to see you, and it showed me what had happened to you. He let me go right away, so that I could find you, and take you home."

"It's incredible," said Maurice. "I would have never dreamed that monster had it in him."

"Speaking of dreams," said Belle, "you really must get to bed. It's well past midnight. We have a big day tomorrow, to take Chip back to the castle. You can come along and meet the Beast for yourself, then."

Maurice finally obeyed his daughter. He dished out one more great, big hug for her before he retired. He was gladder than he showed at his reunion with her; for so long he had feared that she was trapped in the castle being tortured, or — worse.

When Maurice was gone to bed, Belle carefully washed Chip in the dish basin. "I suppose you want to sleep in the cupboard tonight," she said.

"Yes, please," said Chip, spitting suds from his mouth.

Belle dried him off and gently set him up in the cupboard near the fireplace. "Sweet dreams, Chip. We'll see you in the morning," she said. She shut the door, finished tidying, and went to bed.

The excitement of the past day meant that, as tired as she was, she could barely sleep. She was thrilled to finally be back with he father, to know he was alright. Moreover, she was finally freed from her obligation to the Beast. The fact that he had freed her of his own accord — something she never expected of him — commended him greatly in her estimation. She actually looked forward to a swift return, so she could gladly share with him the news that her father had proven to be alright.

It was a little after dawn when she heard a deafening crash in the front room. Rising from bed and throwing on a dressing gown in a single gesture, she hastened downstairs to see what was the matter.

Alarmed, she entered the room to find that the cupboard was overturned — apparently broken. There was, moreover, a strange child present, who had evidently perpetrated the crime.

"What on earth!" cried Belle. She raced to examine the scene and, with dread, suddenly remembered Chip had been in the cupboard. Fearing that his fragile porcelain body had been damaged, she hurried to the rubble and began to search for him.

"Chip! Chip!" she cried, raking her fingers through shattered earthenware and china, searching for the little teacup. As she sifted through the sharp debris she looked up at the little blond intruder. He was only a child, but he looked old enough to know not to play in strangers' homes. "What are you doing in here?" spat Belle, infuriated amidst her fear. "Who are you?"

The boy wore upon his face a look that could only be read as utter delight. "I'm Chip!" he replied. "Belle, it's me!" He leapt upon her and hugged her with a boundless excitement.

Belle didn't believe him at first. She paused. She considered. Chip — the talking teacup. Could this be any less likely? His voice was correct. His character was correct.

"Chip…?" she asked. "That's… really you?"

"I'm human again!" he shouted, jumping with excitement. "The spell is broken!"

At that moment Maurice came bumbling down the stairs to see what all the commotion was about. Chip was obliged to repeat his introductions.

Maurice was every bit as astonished as Belle had been. "Chip?" he asked. "That's really you? But, how?"

Chip suddenly grew more grave. He felt unsure whether it was correct to answer the question; but without his mother at hand to scold him, he was willing to divulge more than he normally should have done. "Mamma says I'm not supposed to tell you because you'll be offended," he answered. He spoke the last word like he didn't know what it meant.

Belle looked at Maurice. He looked at her in turn.

"I suppose," said Belle, "we should hurry back to the castle to see what's happening there."

Belle and Maurice dressed hastily, and in no time they had Philippe ready with a little wagon hitched to him so that Maurice and Chip could be carried. Belle — the only one who felt she knew the way — piloted the route.

The trio set out, but before the town was out of sight, they discovered that they had a pursuer. Roughly the size of a barge and an ego no smaller, Gaston rode swiftly to catch up with them. He was mounted on his large black horse.

"Belle!" he cried furiously, in that distinctive boom of his. "Belle!"

Belle winced. Gaston was something she had not told her father about: how he had shown up at the house proposing marriage, with the whole wedding already set up in the yard. Nor did she want to get into it right now, with a little child as a witness, and on her way to a much more important errand.

"Gaston, I'm with some friends right now," she called back over her shoulder. "We can talk later on!"

"Is that your boyfriend?" asked Chip innocently.

Gaston answered, much to Belle's dismay. "More than that," he said.

Chip's eyes went wide. "You mean, you're her grandpa?"

Gaston scowled at the boy. He caught up and rode his own horse alongside Philippe. "So — you think you can just humiliate me in front of everyone and then disappear?" he growled at Belle.

"Gaston!" Belle answered, matching his irritated tone. "I'm really very busy right now. Can we talk about this later?"

"What's so important?" he demanded skeptically. "Another book?"

Belle softened and answered with the truth. "I have to bring this little boy back to his mother. She's got to be worried sick about him. Please — if you'll go back to the village, I promise I will talk with you as soon as I come back."

Gaston noted Belle's emphatic term promise. She was always one to keep her word. "Fine," he relented. "Later. I'll be at my house, waiting."

He gave a silent nod to Maurice and the boy, then turned his horse around to the direction of the village.

Maurice watched as Gaston disappeared from view. "What on earth was that about?" he asked.

"Nothing, papa," said Belle, rolling her eyes. She made a mental note to delay coming back to the village for as long as she could, to avoid having to see that man again.

After a couple hours' ride through the woods, the Beast's castle was in sight… or was it? They certainly espied a castle. Yet it looked nothing like the Beast's rundown, gothic, age-blackened abode. This place was shiny, pristine, almost radiating a sense of joy and prosperity.

Belle strove to orient herself. Everything else in the region looked right, with the distinctive lake, moat and bridge nearby. "Do you… think this is the right place?" she asked, seeking a second opinion.

Chip cried out gleefully. "It's the old castle! It's back!"

The boy seemed to have confirmed it. Encouraged, Belle rode up. She was in awe of the reformed place. Never had she seen anything so beautiful before. It was a place where everything seemed designed to thrill the senses. She could never have supposed that, underneath the gloom and filth of before, this glorious edifice was to be found.

As soon as the party were through the gates, Chip leapt from the wagon and raced directly to the front door.

"Should we knock before entering?" asked Maurice, still haunted by the recollection of his past experience.

Chip simply ran inside on his own. Belle dismounted from Philippe.

"Well," she said in reply to her father. "I suppose we should announce ourselves, in any case."

Belle and Maurice tiptoed up the white marble steps and entered the massive doorway. They expected to find the palace empty and desolate as before. It was not so: the rooms were absolutely bustling with well-dressed humans, all of whom appeared to be overjoyed and in the midst of the most exuberant celebrations.

Belle could scarcely believe it. "What has happened here?" she asked aloud. Maurice stayed at her side.

Suddenly a familiar female voice called out, "Oh, it couldn't be? It is! It's Belle!" In a moment, there was a robust middle aged woman with an elaborate hairstyle before her. Belle examined the figure and could perceive traces of the creature that had once been her wardrobe.

"Is it… Rosine? The wardrobe?" she asked.

"The former wardrobe!" cried Rosine, throwing her arms around Belle. "Isn't it amazing? We thought that, when you left, there was no hope of the curse being broken. It was an absolute miracle!"

This was the second time that a curse had been mentioned to Belle. "What was the curse?" she asked.

"Oh, that's right. We didn't want to tell you." Rosine laughed as if embarrassed. "We were afraid that you'd think we were just using you to break the curse. And heaven knows, that situation with you and the master didn't need anymore strain. But! Things all worked out in the end, didn't they?" Oblivious to manners in the midst of her joy, Rosine abruptly wandered off to speak to someone else, without saying anything more to the confused young lady.

"This is unbelievable," said Belle to her father. The pair wended their way through the celebrations, looking for anyone else that seemed familiar. They started up the stairs together; but Maurice was suddenly bowled over into a group of revelers, who carried him off. Belle was ready to chase after him when she perceived at the top of the steps a pair of British and French accents, engaged in a vocal spar.

"It wasn't random chance, I'm telling you!" said the thin, liveried, gallic man who was Lumiere. "She must have planned this from the beginning."

"From the beginning? He was ten years old," replied the fat, middle aged, mustachioed man who was Cogsworth. "She couldn't have planned this from the beginning!"

"Cogsworth? Lumiere?" piped Belle, certain that she recognized their voices, or at least their accents.

The two men turned her way. They reacted to the sight of her like men would react to having just dipped a toe into scalding lava.

"Belle?!" they cried in unison, aghast.

Belle didn't lose her smile, despite their antics. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something," she said.

The two men gathered their wits about them. They compelled friendly, professional smiles.

"Why, it's Belle!" said Cogsworth. "We — er — we did not suppose we would ever see you again."

"I never said I wouldn't be back," replied Belle. "But I obviously missed a big event."

"Y—yes," said Cogsworth, fumbling as if he were very embarrassed. "The master had… some especially good fortune soon after you left."

"And you too, I suppose," said Belle gayly. "So — you were all human? Everybody here?"

"Everyone!" replied Lumiere, laughing.

"Even — the Beast?"

"Even he," replied Cogsworth.

Belle looked around at the throngs that mulled about the castle. "Is he here?" she asked curiously.

Lumiere and Cogsworth seemed dismayed by the question. The two servants began to confer.

"Do you suppose it's a good idea?" said Cogsworth to his companion. "The master might not wish to see her again, under the conditions…"

"Oh, but what harm is it?" said Lumiere. "Obviously she does not love him, so what threat is she? They're simply friends, like you and Mrs. Potts."

Cogsworth blinked in surprise. "And you and Mrs. Potts… right?"

Lumiere said nothing, and turned back to Belle. "Come right this way, chérie! I will show you what has become of the master. You'll be amazed — maybe even regret that you didn't fall for him when you had the chance, no?"

Belle followed the maitre'd across the castle, outside to the rose garden. There, amongst the bushes — barren and not yet recovered from the winter freeze — was a tall, fair-haired young man wearing lavender and yellow finery, alongside a decrepit old woman dressed in a deep green robe.

Belle hesitated when she first laid eyes upon them. Surely that strong, silky youth couldn't be the Beast? But the old woman seemed even less likely a candidate. Her questioning eyes met Lumiere's, and he nodded to her, as if confirming her suspicions.

Belle looked again at the young gentleman, and waving her arm in an excited greeting, called out: "Beast!"

The young man turned towards her. Even at a distance, one could see how his face suddenly lit up.

"Belle?" he called back, unbelieving. He appeared to abandon whatever he was doing with the old woman, and like a horse at hurdles he started to leap and crawl over the bushes. At last he was standing before her, somewhat breathless. He automatically threw his arms around her.

"Belle!" he cried excitedly.

"Beast! I can't believe it!" she said, embracing him in turn. "It's really you?"

"It is!" He drew back a few steps so she could look at him. He was proud of his new body. "But you… you came back!"

"Why is everyone so surprised?" laughed Belle. "Does everyone here think I don't like them or something?"

The Prince took her by the hands and began to laugh — but something seemed to interrupt his joy. His face immediately stiffened, and he looked almost ashamed.

"What's the matter?" asked Belle, concerned.

The Prince turned and looked over his shoulder at the old woman behind him. "Um… Belle. There is somebody I have to introduce you to." His light, young voice was nervous.

Together the pair made their way across the garden walkway, till they were standing before the old lady dressed like verdant Death. "Belle," said the Prince haltingly. "This is my fiancée."

Belle was astonished to hear that. He had never mentioned any fiancée before. She was surprised to immediately feel her heart drop at the words. Perhaps, deep down inside, she had felt some kind of attraction for the Beast, and now was disappointed to learn he was no longer available? Determined to remain in good cheer, Belle looked the old woman over, first wondering if she had mistaken her age from afar — but no, indeed, the woman seemed even older up close than she had at first glance. Moreover, as Belle examined the ancient countenance, a shiver crept up her spine. She had an unusual knack for reading character based on some subtle cue in the person's manner — and Belle felt that this old woman did not depict many favorable personality traits.

Taken aback, but striving to be polite, the young lady extended her hand. "I am pleased to meet you," she said stiffly.

The old woman, with a frown, took the slender hand in an automatic sort of way. "Well, I aim to please," she answered. She then looked to the Prince and loudly asked, "So this is the one you were going to jump off the balcony for?"

The Prince colored with embarrassment. So did Belle.

"Um… the situation is different now…" muttered the flustered Prince. He looked to Belle, and felt he needed to explain what had transpired. "You see," he said, "many years ago, this woman came to the castle, and transformed me into a Beast as punishment for being rude and selfish and shallow. Everyone in the castle was changed along with me, so that they couldn't leave to summon help. You see, she is a powerful Enchantress."

"You haven't seen anything yet," said the Enchantress.

Belle looked again at the old woman and found that her lone, bulging eye was staring intently back at her. The old lady had a steamy overconfidence not normally seen in a person so unattractive, and who made no apparent effort to render herself more appealing.

"Only by falling in love could I break the curse," continued the increasingly humiliated Prince, "and by convincing the woman to return my love. I needed to do this before my twenty-first birthday. Which is today."

"Oh!" said Belle automatically. "Happy birthday!"

The Prince blushed, her good wishes further discombobulating him in the midst of his tale. "Um. Thank you. Er… the Enchantress. I did not succeed in breaking the spell. But this good fairy took pity on me, and offered herself to be my wife, and to break the curse she'd laid."

Belle now understood what Chip and Rosine had meant about how they might offend her: they had been making her fall in love with the Beast so that they could break the curse. "But you were able to fall in love with her instead? That's wonderful," replied Belle, sincerely.

The Prince tensed and wasn't sure what to say.

"We appreciate the thoughts," said the Enchantress, stepping forward. "The wedding isn't for a while longer, but we expect it to be a small affair. We shall certainly do our best to invite all of our friends."

Belle understood that the Enchantress was saying that she wasn't invited. "Oh, of course," answered Belle meekly. She realized that her introduction was causing some discomfort to the new couple. "Well… I suppose I had better be on my way. I only came to bring Chip home — he had snuck into my satchel when I left last night." Had it only been one night? It already seemed like ages had passed since she departed from the castle. "But I'm so glad that I came. I'm so happy for you!" She hugged the Prince once again, just as she would any close friend.

"Thank you, Belle," said the Prince, trembling with emotion. "In all the time I was a Beast, knowing you was the best thing that happened to me."

Belle felt she shouldn't imply that this was the last they would see of one another. "I'll be back to visit you both from time to time," she smiled. "Afterall, that library is supposed to be mine. I have to look in on my books."

The Enchantress butted in. "Where do you live? I'll have the books sent to you."

"Oh!" replied Belle, startled by the proposition. "No, please. I couldn't possibly fit so many books inside my house."

"Very well," replied the Enchantress. "When you return home, there'll be a book waiting for you. You have only to open it, and it will be whatever you wish to read. If you don't have a specific book in mind, the spirits will select something appropriate for you to browse. Or inappropriate, if you prefer. You needn't worry, they won't select anything outside of your comfort zone. This way you — ah — don't need to trouble yourself, coming back and forth so much."

Belle once again conceived that the supposed politeness was intended as a brush off. "Thank you," she said. She looked one last time to the Prince — his big blue eyes all that were left of the Beast she had befriended. "And thank you, for everything," she said earnestly.

With those final farewells, she returned to the melée within the castle, located her father, and set out for the village once more.

As they traveled across the forest, damp with melting snow and recent rain, Belle found herself feeling curiously sad for what had transpired. Maybe it was foolish of her to suppose that she could leave the castle and return to find everything just as before. Afterall, most of the world didn't operate with the same monotony as her little provincial town.

When Belle and Maurice reached their home, Belle suddenly groaned aloud. She remembered that she had promised to pay a visit to Gaston when she returned.