After another unnecessarily long delay, here's chapter 9. As usual, the first order of business is to thank all the wonderful people who reviewed the previous chapter: Bloody Phantom, Bottled Sunshine, Bellaroe, and WriterGirl1472. You guys really are my main source of motivation. Extra thanks to Bellaroe and Bloody Phantom for their repeated encouragement! (Bellaroe, I'm never able to reply to your reviews, but I really do appreciate them. Thanks so much!)
Alright, here we go!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Chapter 9:
Walking, walking, walking. Setting down one foot after another. Around the castle Belle went, again and again and yet again. She figured if she walked long enough, her mind would clear and she'd be able to think properly. But every time she passed the enchanted rosebush with its eternal blooms, confusion and fear assailed her as strongly as ever before.
The day had started out normally enough. Belle had gone down to the kitchen for breakfast, as always. Francoise and Vincent were already there. As the three of them ate, Francoise had noted that Belle was being very quiet.
"Yesterday the Beast told me how he came to be enchanted," Belle explained, solemnly stirring the porridge in her bowl.
Startled, Vincent had stared at her in wide-eyed disbelief. "Surely not," he said.
"What did he tell you?" Francoise asked, her eyes narrowing in doubt.
Belle took a deep breath before replying, "He told me the entire story. From Vincent's birth to the day the enchantress came to the castle."
Vincent and Francoise stared at her for a few long seconds, then Francoise began to chuckle. "I'm impressed, Belle," she said. "You're taking it extremely well."
"It was an awful story, but it mostly just answered many questions that have been stirring in my mind for the past few months," Belle replied. "I guess I seem very weak and stupid, so you might have expected me to be more shocked than I really was…" She shrugged and gave Francoise a wry smile.
Francoise returned the smile and continued eating her breakfast. After a few minutes, she remarked, "Well, I'm glad you finally know why you're here. I'll no longer feel as though I'm treading on eggshells whenever I speak with you."
"Why I'm here?" Belle blankly repeated. "I learned why you're here. What do I have to do with anything?"
After an awkward pause, Vincent made an odd noise in his throat and looked to Francoise with raised eyebrows. "He didn't tell her everything," he remarked in a low voice.
"I know," Francoise sighed. She looked back to Belle, who was frowning in confusion, and quietly asked, "Did the master tell you what the enchantress said to him?"
Belle nodded. "Yes. She told him, 'You neither practice kindness nor allow it to be practiced. You scorn people who deserve your compassion. I will make your face match your beastly heart.'" Belle was rather proud of her paraphrase. She thought it had a lyrical ring to it.
Francoise, however, was scowling. "The master can be so cowardly," she hissed to Vincent.
The man made no reply, but nodded his agreement.
"Well," Francoise said briskly, "I will have to say what he would not."
"What's that?" Belle asked. She could hardly contain her curiosity. "You said it has something to do with me?"
Francoise began her reply in a slow, measured voice. "Belle, the enchantress who turned the master into what he currently gave him instructions on how to break the spell she had laid upon him."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" Belle exclaimed. "He seems to think there's no way for him to become human again. He should have listened more closely to the enchantress." She set her empty bowl upon the stone floor, rested her elbows on her knees, and leaned forward so that her face was supported in her hands.
Francoise barked out a humorless laugh. "Believe me, he listened closely enough. Would you care to know what instructions the enchantress gave him?"
"Yes, of course I would."
"She told him," Francoise said in her most solemn voice, "that in order to become a human again, he had to learn kindness."
"That makes sense," Belle said approvingly.
"As proof of this, he would have to fall in love…and be fallen in love with in return."
Belle frowned as she tried to comprehend the implications of Francoise's words. "So love is the key to everything?"
"Yes," Vincent affirmed.
"But how could the enchantress expect any woman to fall in love with a…monster?"
"That's what you're here for," Francoise bluntly told her.
Belle immediately leapt to her feet, knocking over her stool with a loud clatter. She looked wildly between Vincent and Francoise, expecting one of them to announce that they'd been joking. But neither said a word. "Stop treating me like an idiot," she growled at them.
"We're not," Francoise replied. "In fact, this is one of the first times I haven't."
For several seconds, Belle opened and closed her mouth like a fish, trying to find a response. At last, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen. She tore through the halls of the castle, into the entranceway, out the great doors, and into the courtyard. She dashed across the muddy courtyard and grabbed hold of the metal bars of the gate. The gate was locked, of course. There was no way out. Climbing? No, that wasn't possible.
Thus she had come to her present state. Walking, walking, walking. She could think of nothing to do except walk. Her father had always said that walking cleared his mind.
Oh, no. The thought of her dear father caused tears to well up in her eyes. She missed him. She needed him. She need her whole family. Surely her brothers would rescue her. Laurent would never allow her to become the bride of a beast.
There was the rosebush again. How many times had she circled the castle? Too many to count, and still she couldn't shake her bewilderment and fear. Maybe Vincent would help her escape. No, that was no good. Vincent felt responsible for the Beast's condition. He would never do something to stop the Beast from becoming human again.
A sudden thought struck Belle, and she barely kept herself from stumbling into the muddy spring soil. If the Beast were still a man, would things be better? Well, yes, of course they would. The entire affair would be far less disturbing. But still, Belle wouldn't be able to fall in love with him. He was ill-tempered. He was cruel. He was horrid.
He was standing before her.
Belle stopped in her tracks, staring up at the Beast with an expression of panic. For his part, the Beast looked far more timid than Belle had ever seen him. His eyes were those of a dog awaiting a beating.
"Francoise told you everything," he said in a low, miserable voice.
"You should have told me much earlier," Belle replied, trying to keep her own voice from quavering. "Why didn't you?"
"I knew you'd be repulsed."
"You should have told me anyways."
"I'm sorry."
Never before had he sounded so sincere. It was terrifying. Belle instinctively took a step backwards, and she whipped her eyes to the ground. The Beast was waiting for her to speak, but she was determined to remain silent. She would not acknowledge his apology, because it changed nothing. However sorry the Beast felt, he would still do what he wanted and keep Belle as his prisoner.
"Look at me."
She wouldn't.
"Fear used to keep your eyes on the ground. Has stubborn anger become fear's replacement?"
No, no, no. She would not speak to him.
"Are you so very disgusted at the thought?"
Belle snorted, and she raised her eyes to his with a joyless half-smile. "You're not going to specify what thought?" she asked, mimicking his usual mocking tone.
Only after a long, embarrassed pause could the Beast produce his next words. "The thought of loving me. It disgusts you."
"Yes," Belle bluntly replied. When she saw the pain that immediately sprang into the Beast's eyes, she almost wished she had spoken more gently.
"I'm sorry," the Beast said for the second time. Once again he waited for Belle to reply. Once again she would not. The longer the silence between them lasted, the more his expression transformed. Vulnerability was replaced by steely anger. "Well," he growled, turning away from the girl, "it doesn't matter. You still belong to me."
As Belle watched him stomp away through the mud of the castle grounds, she found herself assailed by sudden curiosity. She had to ask him one more question. "Wait!" she called after him.
"What?" he snarled over his shoulder.
"Didn't the enchantress say you also have to fall in love?"
He hesitated for a brief moment before replying, "She did."
"Well…" Belle hadn't expected asking this question to be quite so difficult. "Have you?"
"No," he quickly and harshly answered. He moved to leave, but suddenly jerked to a stop as though glued to the earth. After another long pause, he added, "But I'm trying." With those words, he bounded out of sight.
Belle still didn't know what to think. She stood alone in the courtyard for quite some time, ignoring the warm sun on her face and the cheerful songs of the forest birds. For her, there was nothing but confused misery, anger, and for some bizarre reason, remorse. Finally, she turned and trudged back indoors. "I wouldn't have minded being friends with him," she murmured as she stepped into the entryway of the castle. The great doors behind her slowly swung shut, and all natural light was cut off.
Thoughts? Comments? Criticisms?