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Cliffhanger- In which the Beast discovers Belle is more than she appears.
She was dancing.
There was no music, no pattern or rhythm, but it was impossible to see otherwise. He'd spent too many hours of his past life attending the stifling banquets and balls not to recognize the body language. Her arms were high at her side, her fingers curled as though her hand was being held by another's. Her shoes were kicked off to the side of the bedroom, her toes pointed tall as she took graceful steps, one porcelain tile to the next. She was moving to the steady rhythm of an unrecognizable song, something that seemed filled with countless past memories for her. It shocked him to see something so familiar from someone so new to him.
He slipped back into the comforting shadows, seeing without being seen, the way it should be. He knew the second she caught him the life would die from her eyes and she'd slip back into her stubborn nature. She'd lower her head and scowl under her breath, and if she ever did look into his wolfish eyes, it would be out of pity. And then he'd lose her.
Every tap of her heel, turn of her neck, and twist of her waist was enough for him to know that she was somewhere else in her mind's eye, somewhere far away from the cold and foreign cage he considered a rather expensive and lavish bedroom. Her skirts, a fresh lilac blue print, were hiked up to her knees, and from here he could spot her bare and dirty feet whirling about. Belle hardly seemed to notice her hair was flying free from the messy knot at the exposed nape of her neck. She was literally jumping in joy, twirling around the room with a…
Was that a book? Yes! Yes, she was dancing because of a book, of all reasons.
The Beast had to hold back a snort of disbelief. She was more childish than he'd thought. Nothing but a naïve, immature….
His thoughts ran away once again as she began to hum, and the scorn faded from his features. It was oddly familiar, the tune sending shivers down his back. It was something from long ago, a time he wished more than anything he could forget. She slowed her dance as the humming grew louder, walking gently over to the shelf where the book had once been.
It was the lullaby his mother used to sing for him, the last few years of her life. It had always felt tired and eerie, but when Belle sang it, the song became something almost happy.
He couldn't help stepping a few inches closer, aching to hear more, to capture the image of her in his mind.
"How does a moment last forever?" She stopped in front of the shelf and eased the novel back into its place, caressing the faded bindings and titles of the rest.
"How can a story never die?" From here he could see her smile falter as she reached the end of the shelf, her heels returning to the floor. Her voice was like a clear, soft bell ringing over and over in his head, simple and beautiful without trying to be anything she wasn't. Yet at the same time, Belle was anything but simple.
"It is love we must hold onto, never easy, but we try…." A crack slipped into her voice, sneaking in and then revealing itself at the end of the phrase, leaving Belle alone and vulnerable in her beautiful prison. Her fingers slipped from the shelf, and she instinctively wrapped her arms in a tight hug around herself, as if trying to bring comfort into the cold room.
He blinked as a tug, painful and sharp, resounded through his chest. Had she always looked that small, that tameable? She was in pain, and he didn't know why, and he didn't know how to fix it. Before he could stop himself, a low growl slithered throughout the room.
The next few moments changed him forever.
In the first moment, Belle finally became aware of his presence. She let out a squeak of shock and whirled around, her elbow crashing into the bookshelf and sending the priceless volumes flying into the air and slapping against the dresser, waking Madame Garderobe immediately from her soft snoring.
Second, Belle lost her footing as she turned, slipping on some loose sheets of paper near the floor. Madame let out a shriek, tottering forward on her spindly legs.
Third, he was across the room in an instant and pulling her into his arms.
They froze in each other's embrace, neither knowing why exactly they were in such close proximity, neither knowing why the other was so incredibly warm. Her fingers had wrapped around his lapel and he was gripping the fabric draped along her arms, with her feet centimeters from the cliff that made up her "window."
Belle didn't seem to have realized she was seconds away from falling to her death, because currently she was struggling to get away from him, her feet moving closer to the edge.
He didn't resist the eye roll, shoving the stunned feeling of her away into the corners of his mind. He would brood and worry over those thoughts later, far away from her influence.
"If I let you go, you'll die." He'd never been very good at tact, apparently, because instead of calming her down and making her be cooperative, this in fact terrified her so that she began to kick.
"Let me go, let me go this instant! What in the blazes is going on?!" She was hissing in his ear, but he wasn't paying attention to that. All he could hear was her terrified heartbeat pounding against his chest. The scent of fear and confusion rolled off Belle in waves, pouring over him. He had to resist a shudder of rage, stupid animal instincts.
He let out a huff and threw her over his shoulder, stepping safely away from the window.
"What do you think you're doing?! You have no right, put me down right now!" Her palms automatically landed on his massive shoulders in an attempt to brace herself.
Neither of them seemed to realize that Belle's cries, coupled with Madame Garderobe's awakening, had been noticed by the rest of the servants, and now a crowd was watching intently from the doorway.
"Shouldn't we do something?"
"Oh dear. I was hoping it wouldn't come to this. And so soon too!"
"Maybe we should've warned the Master about eavesdropping and its consequences."
"Mama, why is she kicking him?"
Lumiere leaned over towards Cogsworth. "Looks like a step forward in the right direction, if you ask me!"
Cogsworth let out a snort. "I did not ask you, and if anything, this looks like a thousand steps in the wrong direction! You appear, yet again, to be delusional." Lumière shrugged, turning back to watch the couple lost in their argument.
"You know what they say about love and hate…" He trailed off dramatically, waving one of his candles in the Beast's direction. Belle still had not ceased her futile struggling to get away.
"No. What do they say?" Plumette turned to him, her head cocked to the side in confusion. One by one the rest of the servants turned too, leaving him in the spotlight that he usually treasured.
Lumiere's flame sputtered out abruptly as he searched for an actual answer.
"Eh, something about how similar the two are. That they are one and the same…? Yes. Come come now, let us leave them be." He left the doorway in such a hurry that his candles were extinguished altogether. The rest of the group remained, hidden in the shadows, observing with a collectively held breath.
"I demand that you put me down this instant, you...you brute! Let. Me. Go." She was squirming uncontrollably, her teeth gritting together in anger. At the moment, she was more of a beast than he was. A surge of rage shot through him once more, and he turned, walking towards the exit. He'd spun so quickly that she almost lost her hold on his shoulder, slipping forwards with another ear-piercing shriek.
"I just saved your life, and this is how you repay me? You really are nothing but a child. This is all your fault too, you know. Your foolish danci-" He stopped walking, realizing what he had just admitted.
"Y-you saw me? You watched me?" She whispered, growing still against him.
He shrugged, once again hating that she made him feel sheepish.
"I was curious. I recognized the dance from long ago."
"You've been to a ball?!" She seemed to have forgotten her previous anger, and now all that was left was pure confusion. He'd been planning to set her down on her bed, ready to walk away and leave her be for good. But her question aggravated him.
"Of course I've been to a ball, hasn't everyone?" He turned to watch her reaction, knowing fully well she was a peasant. He felt she owed him a chance to be cruel after the torment she'd put him through, being in his arms.
She bit her lip, glancing across the room at the now rumpled pile of books scattered around the tiles.
"Right. That's what I thought. What I can't fathom, however, is how a lowly farm girl like yourself would know those steps."
Her gaze shot up to meet his, fire gleaming beneath her expression.
"I am no farm girl. I may be poor, but I am not the stupid low-life you make me out to be. My father believed everyone needed an education, no matter how much money was sitting in their pockets. So he taught me the dances, along with other things." Her boldness was seeping back into her countenance, he could tell, as slowly her back began to straighten the longer she spoke. "I am much more interested, however, in how you seemed to recognize dance steps that are only used in Paris."
His eyes widened at that, and she let out a small smile in satisfaction. "So tell me, Beast. How would you learn to dance when you have spent all your life here?"
She was baiting him, he knew that much, but he didn't care. He just wanted to prove her wrong.
"You assume too much. I wasn't always trapped in this blasted place, just as I'm sure you weren't always this bold and proud." The fire flickered uncomfortably in her eyes, and he couldn't help noticing the way her shoulders slumped. "Furthermore, I wasn't always a Beast either. If you'd rather me not call you farm girl, or have me consider you a prisoner, then you must give me a different name in return."
She sat up again, curiosity overruling her pain. "I'm to make up a name for you?" Her voice sounded incredulous. He shook his mane.
"No. Call me by my real name. I will not answer to anything other than Prince Adam." The name no longer held the power it used too, instead it felt like a flimsy, breakable attempt at comfort. He turned to walk away, holding his breath in anticipation to hear her response.
"Adam?" Her voice was quiet, almost disbelieving.
"I just saved your life. You owe me a proper name, at least."
"And you also forced me to give up my life for my fathers. You owe me a proper name too, at least." It wasn't exactly a gentle reminder that she hated him.
He growled impatiently, taking long strides for the door. "Fine. You will be referred to as Belle, and I as Adam. Are we in agreement?" He paused, turning back to face her so he could send her the most intimidating glare he could muster. He still held the authority, and he felt the need to prove it.
But she didn't even seem to be paying attention, her eyes focused once more on the pile of books. He couldn't read the hollow expression painted on her face, and it made him uneasy. He shifted his weight to the other paw and cleared his throat.
She blinked once, then twice, and glanced up at him.
"The dance wasn't the only thing you recognized, was it? Y-you recognized the song too, didn't you?" It was nothing more than a hoarse whisper, but it sent shivers down his spine. Belle was watching him far too closely, as thought she could hear his panicked thoughts.
"That is none of your concern, nor does it matter. I expect you to join me for dinner tonight, and this time, I won't let them sing for you."
He left before she had time to figure out if that was supposed to be a joke.
I will be writing more soon, I am so sorry this took so long to post, the last few weeks have been crazy! I'll spend tonight writing down all of your requests, and whoever sends in the first review on this chapter will get their request first! Reviews make my day!