The Bond of Scent
A Beauty and the Beast Story
By TunnelsOfTheSouth
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"I listened, while the scents found their hiding places in the cracks in the floorboards, and the words of the story, and the rest of my life…"
Erica Bauermeister
Pillow Talk
Vincent paused in the doorway of his chamber. For the first time in his life, his boots would not move to step across the threshold. He stood forlorn, looking toward the starkness of his empty bed. His expression was filled with desperate longing.
Catherine… He sighed brusquely.
She is not here. She cannot be here. She will never be here, again…
Those were the immutable facts he must embrace and understand. No matter how deeply they cut him. Wishing for things to be different changed nothing. It only served to make his sorrowing heart feel even heavier.
He'd taken as much time as he dared, guiding Catherine's faltering steps to the surface by the longest route he could safely devise. Against his better judgement, he'd allowed her to take his hand to assist her crossing of the yawning gap between the steam pipes. He'd treasured that fleeting contact by closing his fingers tight against his palm as soon as she released him.
At the entrance to her world, Catherine had finally dared to come close enough to hug him. To rest against his shoulder as if she'd always been sheltered there. His arm had gone around her then, his fingers pressing her closer to him. That had been another moment of precious memory he stored away against the lonely future.
The sudden sound of voices from Above had forced Catherine away from him. Immediately, Vincent had fled back into the darkness. To remain standing there, with her, was too dangerous. Words and wishes swirled and churned within him, urgently seeking expression and a voice.
Stay… he'd wanted to demand of her. Stay here, with me…
He'd forced the unruly part of his nature into tight submission. He'd left her alone at the new entrance he and Winslow had created in the wall of the sub-basement beneath her apartment building. He'd stood in the shadows for some time, staring at the column of blue-white light that had finally swallowed Catherine and all his unspoken dreams.
His path back to the home tunnels had been dogged with despondency. He'd concealed his face deep within the hood of his cloak. He'd neither spoken to nor acknowledged anyone who happened to pass him by. He wasn't interested in conversation or sharing another's thoughts.
Father had appeared at his side, his forehead creased with concern. "I'm sorry, Vincent. But it had to be. She could not stay here. We both know that. Now, we cannot leave that hole open," the old man had reminded him. "It's an invitation to disaster. The sooner it's closed the sooner you will be able to forget her…" He'd tried to be kind but firm.
He'd been waiting for his son to finally return from his mission. When Vincent didn't acknowledge him, the old man had put out one hand, even as he reiterated his insistence that the hole in the wall must be bricked up again, and soon.
"Any time you're ready to start the work, Vincent…" Winslow had appeared at Father's shoulder, watching his good friend closely. "Just say the word, and Mouse and I will be there. We can get it bricked up again in a flash."
Vincent had only shrugged as he passed them both. He couldn't speak to them either. The necessary work smacked of a permanence he was not yet willing to deal with. He'd left the two men looking after him with deep concern as he walked away down the tunnel, his head hanging low, his attention fixed on his boots.
He braced his shoulders now as he finally managed to step inside his chamber and walk slowly toward his vacant bed. Catherine may no longer occupy the room, as she now lived within his heart and soul, but her scent was everywhere, imbuing everything she'd touched, with her unseen presence.
She had embraced him before she'd left him to return to her world Above. Her fragrant warmth remained in the folds of his cloak and clothing. He needed only to breathe in and she was with him.
He inhaled as he stopped beside the bed. Dragging off his boots he lowered himself onto the softly yielding surface. He worked his body onto one side and into a curled position, his head resting on the same pillows Catherine had slept on for the last nine days. He closed his arms around them, pulling them into his embrace, before burying his face in their softness.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled again, drawing Catherine's scent deep into his lungs and his heart and soul. There, behind his closed eyelids, and in that undefined space between waking and sleeping, he found his love again.
She may no longer exist in his hidden world, but inside his dreams, he could still talk to her, read to her, and against everything he'd ever been taught, he could hold her small hand within his own for the simple pleasure of doing so. He could feel her fingers weaving through his once more.
Smiling with love and acceptance, he watched Catherine look up into his face and see no difference from any other man. She could gaze into his eyes with love and hope in hers.
"Catherine…" Vincent whispered with fractured longing.
He settled deeper into the softness of his pillows, moving deeper into that other world, where anything was possible, and nothing was truly as it seemed…
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Scent of a Man…
Catherine followed Vincent's lead, as he led her unerringly back to her own world. As soon as they left his hidden world, Catherine had become well and truly lost in a confusing maze of tunnels and walkways. She was well aware that if she ever tried to find her way back, it would be impossible. She knew this was deliberate, to discourage her from trying to return.
As if on command, the tunnel ahead of them narrowed, and became dark. They hurried along, crouched over. Further down the tunnel, there was a faint light. As they approached it, the tunnel ended at an iron grillwork vent. Vincent put his shoulder to the grill and in an incredible exertion of force, moved it out of its cement casing.
Easing back upright he took Catherine down the tunnel to the first hole he'd helped make in the tunnel wall. Taking her hand once more, he helped her through, and then led her down the tunnel to the second opening.
Placing one hand on the damp brickwork, he leaned forward to look into the musty room beyond. All was it had been before. There was no sign of any recent activity. He was satisfied it would be safe for Catherine to return to her world, unseen.
His next words were full of resignation and bound with sorrow. "This is where you go out..."
"Where are we?" Catherine looked around, completely mystified.
Vincent's posture slumped. "The basement of your apartment building."
Catherine laughed uncertainly. "We are?" She paused, unsure of what she should do now. You mean… right beneath where I live… the thought gave her an almost indescribable sense of comfort.
She knew she'd never come back here, never violate the faith he was showing in her, now. But it felt good to know that in some way, they were still connected, and always would be.
She needed to put to rest any lingering fears he may have. He'd risked so much, some would say too much, just to help her. "Vincent... Your secret is safe with me."
She looked up into his eyes; a man's blue eyes. Perhaps they were the most human thing about his beautiful and unique face. "I would never betray your trust," she added.
His incredible voice was calm, as he assured her of his faith. "I know… I knew that from the beginning when you trusted me." He leaned back against the wall beside the hole, trying to stretch out the limited time that was left to them.
She reached out to him, placing her hand on his chest and, resting her head on his shoulder, she buried her face in his mane. "What can I say to you?" she whispered.
The tenderness of her embrace took Vincent's breath away. He felt time stretching and transforming into that fabled eternity he craved. Eternity in an hour.
He knew he should draw away, put some distance between them. And yet… his hand rose behind her, and his long fingers spread wide against the small of her back, drawing her closer to his pounding heart.
Yes. Oh, yes. Thank you. Thank you, Catherine. Thank you for this moment, for this gift.
Catherine turned her face deeper into his shoulder. There she found what she had been seeking. That which had held her sanity together for the last nine days, against all the terrors that had gripped both her dreams and waking moments.
She rediscovered the welcome scents and spicy undertones of the man that had been there the first time she'd woken up in terror. Those scents had always been there; however distant Vincent had held himself. A mixture of different smoky scents permeated his outer clothing, reminding her of the rock-built chamber she had left this morning.
The flicking candles, the soft hiss of the kerosene brazier underscored by the stark scents of stone and earth. They were all there, as she breathed more deeply.
It had been in that same chamber she'd first become aware of him, a beautiful voice cloaked in shadows, reluctant to step forward into the light. It had been the varied and intriguing scent of him that she'd known first. Her distressed mind had created the man from that scant information.
Beneath those scents, there was always a richer warmth, the masculine scent of leather and the softness of melting beeswax. There was the richness of many layers, all carrying meanings and messages. Vincent's body heat reached out to her, comforting and warming, as it drove the chill from her own. It was where she longed to remain, if only she dared to tell him so.
Against all they wanted to say to each other, the illicit intimacy of the embrace held them both spellbound. Neither had the desire to break the tenuous bond that was developing between them.
I wish there was a way, Catherine thought.
I know you do, Vincent replied mentally, knowing she couldn't sense him as deeply as he sensed her. But knowing she felt something deep, just the same.
Just as the words trembled on Vincent's lips; the very moment he found the courage to beg her to stay with him, just for a while longer, no matter the cost, fate intervened, as she must.
Voices sounded, and footsteps echoed through the vent in the ceiling of the sub-basement. Catherine started, turning away to look into the room and up at the vent.
That's my life calling. I have to go to it. A thousand emotions passed through her, some of which she couldn't name, and some of which she could. It's going to be so hard. She knew that much.
She didn't see Vincent brush past her and vanish into the darkness.
Moments later, the sounds of people faded, and she turned back to Vincent's reassuring presence, but he was no longer there.
"Vincent…!" she called out, her eyes searching the shadows where his name echoed in vain.
She remained, watching for any sign of him, but knew it was useless. Gone. He was gone. Gone back to the safety of his home, a home he could never leave. Gone, and she was alone.
Without any hope of ever seeing him again, she raised the hood of her coat over her hair, before turning and walking slowly towards the shaft of light. And then she disappeared, back to her own life...
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Sharing the Unspoken Truth…
Vincent stood looking out through the gently billowing bedroom curtains screening Catherine's balcony doors. They stood open to the red glow of the late afternoon sunshine and soft spring breeze.
Even though his beloved had told him he'd broken into her apartment, he retained no idea of how or when. He could still not process it. And yet so much was missing from his memory, like everything about the last six days was a frustrating blank.
He knew he'd crashed through the doors and seen the terrible monster looking back at him from the mirror on the wall. His memory ended there when he lashed out and destroyed that too, before he'd finally passed out on the carpet in the living room, taking down and shattering the display cabinet as he fell.
The thought that he had done all this brought him only shame and heartache. He wished to be gone from this place, from the pain and anguish the sight caused him, but he had to wait for the darkness that was slowly descending outside. The sun had painted the sky in blood-red streaks and the buildings were slowly dissolving into black shapes that gave no clues to the secrets they hid. And he waited silently for his love to come to him…
He felt rather than saw Catherine finally come to stand at his side, looking out into the gathering dusk. Her soft perfume surrounded him, her beguiling warmth touching briefly against his arm.
But the bond they had shared, the glorious, inexplicable connection that had bound them together as two souls both seeking love and acceptance had been broken, dissolved as if it had never been. Now that it had departed Vincent missed it as if a limb had been severed. It had defined him, made him who he was and gave him access and insight into his love's innermost thoughts and feelings.
Now all he had left was to turn to her and try to decipher her expression, the subtle movements of her body, gauging her thoughts and feelings. But he could not—would not—look at her. He was too ashamed of what he had done, what he had wrought in this place that had been Catherine's sanctuary.
"You're feeling better?" Catherine's softly voiced question cut across his inner torment.
Though there was no longer a bond between them, Vincent could still sense something, some faint undercurrent in those simple words, as if Catherine was asking for more information, probing memories he did not possess. He frowned.
Was she trying to tell him something, without actually saying the words? Had something more happened here that she was loathe to share with him? He wanted to turn and look behind him to the bedroom, where he had just risen from the bed, threading his way to the spot where he now stood, uncertain and unsteady, but finally on his feet.
But the destruction of the bedroom doors had also been his doing. Earlier he had stared at the chaos he'd caused, asking how and why. She had honoured him with the simple truth, saying he was seriously ill and it was of no consequence, it was just things, and they could be mended.
And again, his fractured memory drew a blank. If he had not seen it with his own eyes…so he kept staring at the spot between his booted feet and did not question what was brutally obvious.
He was a monster indeed, as Paracelsus had always said he was. That same dark creature he had seen in the mirror, a heedless, thoughtless, unfeeling beast that needed to be chained, safe from harming and hurting those he loved. He was not fit for civilised company…he truly needed to go far away from everyone. It broke his great heart, but it needed to be so…
"Yes…" Summoning all his great strength he answered Catherine's soft question in a broken whisper. He kept his eyes down, slowly shaking his head from side to side in patent agony.
Even as he mourned the tragic loss of their bond, in that same moment, he re-discovered the bond of scent. The memory of it sifted down through the many layers of his soul.
The sweet warmth of Catherine's feminine perfume reached out to him, soothing and soft against his fractured senses. Her beauty anchored him in place, making his feet feel heavy and almost impossible to move. He wanted to stay, bathed in her love and close attention. He wished he could say all that was in his heart.
He wanted to look behind him but couldn't bring himself to turn. In the depths of the night, something momentous had happened between them in Catherine's wide bed. He was deeply aware of that. It shone in Catherine's eyes and halting smile, but he retained no memory of it. And he felt incapable of asking, fearing the truth.
"I'm sorry…" The apology came tumbling unrestrained from his lips.
His voice broke on the words. It was all he could offer her, now…
Catherine reacted immediately. "Oh, Vincent, don't be sorry..." She reached to rub her hand across his back, making comforting circles against his leather shirt, trying to convey she didn't care about material things.
They had far more important issues to discuss, but she had no idea where to begin, or even how to begin. It was all so fresh and new, what had happened between them in her bed beyond the ruined doors, in the sheltering darkness of the night.
But her love showed no signs of any knowledge of their lovemaking, and she didn't know how to begin. Defeat weighed heavily on her conscience. How could she load him with more information he would assume as guilt?
The warm, salty scent of his body reached out to her, drawing her nearer still. Her heart broke for him, seeing how battered and defeated he looked. Despite all that, he was still her Vincent. Despite the days he'd spent in her apartment with her, she could still detect traces of candle smoke and beeswax that had always been so much a part of the man she loved.
The mixture was potent and fraught with memories. She well-remembered the very first time she'd been aware of him. She had awoken, afraid and distraught, and he'd been standing beyond her reach, hidden in the shadowed corners of his chamber.
He'd been so hesitant to approach her. She had lain in his bed, wishing and hoping he would move close enough for her to see him. But he never did.
Now, in response to her compassion, Vincent's great head sank lower, his chin coming to rest on his chest. "It's been my struggle always…now when I have so much to fight for…I'm losing…"
Catherine moved forward to look up into his down-bent face. Her voice lifted as she replied, "Maybe the worst is over…"
She bit down against the inside of her bottom lip, trying and failing to make the words come. To make her love understand it was all right between them, it would always be all right. She reached out with her heart and mind, feeling for the connection that bound them together, but all she found was silence and blackness. All the colours were gone, the magical bond had fled…
Vincent's breathing fractured as his head sank lower still as if he couldn't bear to look at her or the destruction he had wrought. "If it's not, I…it's best that I'm Below, I should go back…"
Against everything within him demanding that he run and not look back, Vincent raised his eyes to study Catherine. A silence descended as they stared helplessly at each other.
The chasm that lay between them was too wide to step across. Even if he'd reached out his hand to assist her. The winds blew harsh and menacing, and there was no way across. Not yet, not now…
Finally, Catherine nodded, accepting the brutal reality of his words. "It'll be dark soon…" Her voice hitched as she lifted her head to look out at the gathering darkness.
Emboldened by her look of compassion and love, Vincent drew her attention back to him saying, "Catherine…" He shook his head. "I don't know what will happen now…"
Catherine's breath pulled in sharply. She stared at him, trying to drive home her point with the raw emotion that choked her voice. "You must promise me one thing…" she demanded earnestly. "That you will share it with me…" She halted, shaking her head. "Whatever happens, whatever comes…"
Vincent gathered himself, understanding the compassion and deep need of her words, but knowing even Catherine's love and strength could not help him now. He was truly alone once more. He reached out, slinging one arm around her slim shoulders and drawing her close against him.
Despite everything, all that had passed in the last six days, all that he could not remember or understand, he also knew he could not deny her the uncertain comfort of his next words. "Whatever happens, whatever comes…" he paused, and then with his voice breaking he admitted, "Know that I love you…"
There, he'd finally voiced it. The words that had burned so deeply within his throat.
I love you, Catherine… I always will… No matter what comes…
Catherine hugged his admission to her, even as she held him close in the red-gold glow of the sunset as they both waited for full night. For the time when her love would leave her once more, and she hoped and prayed one day soon she would have the courage to tell him what had happened in the room behind them. But now was not the time…
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"A fragrance is a veritable story, told and explained in scent, in notes, in impressions. It's a score based on the emotions of each instant, a captivating music of the senses..."
Alber Elbaz