What is this? A timely update? Witchcraft was clearly involved. No way does something this incredible happen naturally. Here's hoping the quick writing hasn't lowered the quality of the chapter.
As always, innumerable thanks to all the wonderful people who reviewed the previous chapter: JanEyrEvanescence12, Kyuubigurl74, Akora17, Arista Everett June, Hayden Avery, and Aspen of the Fae. I can't thank you guys enough. Your reviews are the best possible source of motivation!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 13:
Belle never could have anticipated the searing pain that tore through her heart when she heard the Beast's decision. Blindsided by shock and hurt, she could not immediately respond. At last, she managed to produce a single word: "Why?" It came out as little more than a whimper.
The Beast continued to stare fixedly into the hearth. "You are no longer needed here. It would be cruel to keep you any longer." He spoke mechanically, as though he had practiced his lines beforehand.
Belle struggled to master her quavering voice. "It is crueler still," she slowly replied, "to dismiss me so abruptly and unfeelingly."
"Never unfeelingly," she thought she heard the Beast mutter, but she could not be certain. She pressed onwards. "Why?" she asked for the second time.
"I told you," the Beast said, his voice completely flat. "I don't need you anymore. You may go home." He finally looked at her, and Belle's heart leapt when she detected in his eyes a flash of his old personality, his former energy. "Several months ago, you would have rejoiced to hear me say this."
"I would have," Belle agreed. She met his gaze and lifted her chin in defiance, although her voice still shook.
"Then what has changed?" he asked.
"Everything, as you know full well."
"Regardless, you have heard my decision."
"I don't think I want to honor your decision."
The Beast growled in frustration. "I had hoped that this audience would end quickly. Stop dragging your feet."
Belle stood and impaled him with her fiercest glare, though its effect was lessened somewhat by the tear that seeped from the corner of her eye. "I am not going to leave you."
The Beast also stood, and as his horns scraped the ceiling, Belle realized for the first time in many months that he was truly massive. "I will make you leave," he said calmly, chillingly.
"Why?" Belle asked for a third time, her voice breaking on the word.
"I've told you twice," the Beast snarled at her.
"Yes, you said you don't need me here anymore. But I don't believe you."
"You had a single purpose, Belle." He was breathing heavily and once again avoiding her eyes. "And it has become clear that you will not fulfill that purpose."
Belle's heart was no longer afflicted with the burning pain that had come with the Beast's initial announcement; the agony had become a dull ache that intensified with every word the Beast uttered. It was that throbbing ache which made Belle realize just how mistaken the Beast was. As far as her feelings were concerned, she had most definitely fulfilled the purpose for which she had come. The startling realization gave her new boldness.
"You're wrong," she somehow managed to tell the Beast, despite the tremors that refused to leave her voice.
"I don't believe I am."
"Please, let's just speak plainly."
"Gladly," he said, though he sounded anything but glad.
"My purpose," Belle began, red-faced and wishing she didn't have to subject herself to such humiliation, "was to break the curse that the enchantress laid upon you."
The Beast did not reply. He merely watched her from the corner of his eye.
"Through love," she added.
"As I said, it is time for you to leave," the Beast muttered shamefacedly.
If only he would look at her! "Exactly what makes you think that I have failed my purpose?" Belle slowly asked. She wished she could be more direct, but she had reached the limits of her courage. Still, she knew the Beast would understand. Every word she had uttered was pregnant was meaning.
The words lingered in the air for some time before the Beast seemed to hear them. Suddenly, startlingly, his head jerked upwards, and at last he looked Belle full in the face. "Don't lie to me," he hissed at her. The firelight illuminated his expression and revealed the desperation – or was it hope? – in his eyes.
"I asked a question," Belle said, her heartbeat rapidly accelerating.
"A coward's way out."
The sarcasm in his voice was more than Belle's struggling heart could bear. She stood on her toes, grabbed one of the Beast's monstrous horns, and yanked his head downward so that at last their eyes were level. "How dare you?" she snapped at him. "How dare you call me a coward? You summoned me from my home to this godforsaken place, and I came. You demanded that I face you and your hideous form, and I rose to the occasion. You asked me to hear your revolting story, and I listened with compassion. And yet you think I'm too cowardly to speak my feelings? The coward's way out would be leaving, a course of action which you alone have suggested. You hypocrite!" She released his horn and took a step backwards. She was shocked at her own boldness.
"Then speak your feelings, if your courage is so unconquerable," the Beast snapped. He stared Belle down without blinking.
"I love you."
A thick silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire in the hearth. Belle felt a bead of sweat roll down her temple, and she realized what a horrific, pathetic situation she had placed herself in. Declaring her love to a massive, hairy, horned monster with whom she fought daily, who had forced her to come to his palace, and who was now trying to drive her away. It was too horrifying and fantastical to be real.
Was it real? Yes, the tears that had begun to stream down Belle's face proved without a doubt that her love was entirely genuine. "I wish you'd say something," she sniffled, feeling a bit too much like the frightened little girl that had first arrived at the palace on a cold winter's day. "I hope you'll believe me. This is too humiliating – but I had to tell you, so that you know that you don't have to give up hope. You don't have to send me away. I can break the curse."
Belle was struggling to regain control over her thoughts. From the moment of her declaration of love, her imagination had been running wild. She had never before allowed herself to dream of the future. Now, with her words floating heavily in the air of the Beast's smoky antechamber, her thoughts had wrested themselves from her heretofore tight control. Visions drifted unbidden through her mind. She imagined the palace once again bustling with activity, servants and courtiers filling its lonely halls. She envisioned the villagers in the forest, shocked to learn that their lord had returned. She pictured a life with the Beast – not as a beast, but as a handsome, learned, strong-willed man.
Belle could not help but wonder if the Beast's imaginings at all resembled her own. He was breathing in and out, in and out, slowly and deliberately. While he had stared at her in utter shock for several seconds after her declaration, he had since averted his eyes and was currently glaring determinedly at the far corner of the room.
"You have nothing about which to feel humiliated. Thank you for your honesty," he said quietly and flatly.
It was not the response that Belle had hoped for. She stayed silent, waiting for something better. When the Beast showed no signs of amending his rather cold words, she finally protested. "What are you saying?" she asked, her voice cracking with emotion. "You should be rejoicing. This is the way to break the curse."
The Beast took yet another deep breath. "You forget that there are two conditions that must be met in order for the curse to be broken."
"Yes, of course," Belle agreed. "Someone must love you, and you must…love them." Her words trailed off as she realized what the Beast was trying to convey to her. She had assumed that, with her desperate confession of love, she had reached the pinnacle of humiliation and was now immune to any further shame. Evidently she had been wrong.
"You don't feel the same," she said. Her voice was completely empty.
The Beast's eyes were still fixed a cobweb in the corner. "I do not," he agreed.
"This is the reason why I am no longer needed here."
He hesitated for the briefest of moments before replying, "Yes."
Belle wanted the floor to open up beneath her and swallow her whole. "Then I suppose I will do as you say," she quietly said. "I will leave immediately."
"Thank you for your patience," the Beast said rather formally. "You have done me a great service."
"Not great enough, I think." Belle gave him a pathetic mockery of a smile, curtseyed, and exited the room as gracefully as her heartbreak permitted.
As soon as she had closed the door behind her, she bolted. Tears streamed down her face as she dashed through the palace. She went directly to her own chambers. Upon entering, she immediately flung herself on her bed and wept. She wept for herself, her unrequited love, and her wounded pride. More than that, however, she wept for the Beast. How long would he remain cursed? There too much energy left within him. Surely, if there was a god, he would not allow such a life to waste away within the cold walls of an abandoned palace.
Belle began to pray. "Don't let him die here. Don't let him die alone. Please bring someone to break the spell. I'll find someone myself. I'm sure Marie or Adele could do it. They've always been so strong. I was a fool for thinking that someone as useless as I am could do away with the curse. The Beast is wise for not loving me. But please, whatever happens, do not let him die here." Gasping sobs punctuated every sentence.
Someone knocked gently on the door. It could only be Francoise. "Don't come in," Belle tried to say, but she could only produce another sob.
Francoise took this meager response as an invitation to enter. She quietly opened the door and gazed upon the weeping girl with an expression of deep compassion. "The master told me the substance of your conversation."
"I wish he hadn't," Belle whimpered into her pillow.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of. The master had only praise for you. He is proud of your courage and honesty."
Belle rolled onto her back and stared blankly at the ceiling. "If I had been courageous and honest when I first came here, do you think he could have loved me?"
"He does love you."
"That is a bald-faced lie. If he loved me, the curse would be broken."
"He is the one who lied to you. He does not want the curse broken."
"Nonsense," Belle muttered. Tears were still trickling persistently from the corners of her eyes. "Did he tell you this?"
Francoise sighed. "No, but I can read him. I've known him his entire life." She approached and sat on the corner of the bed. "He's given up, you know."
"I know." Belle laughed through her tears. It sounded more like a bark.
"You're wrong. It's not because he doesn't love you. He's afraid that, even as a human, he'll never become a good man. He doesn't want to keep you with him if he's going to act like a monster forever. That's why he's sending you away. You must believe me, Belle!" The frail old woman looked like she might slap Belle if she didn't listen.
Belle was tired of having her emotions toyed with. She leapt to her feet, dashed to her wardrobe, thrust open its doors, and began pulling her meager belongings from it, flinging them over her shoulder.
"What are you doing?" Francoise asked. A hint of desperation had entered her voice.
"I'm leaving today."
"Dark has already fallen. You can't leave until morning."
"Call me a fool, but I cannot remain here in my current state of utter humiliation," Belle snapped. She wiped a final tear from her eye. Standing, she stretched out her arms to Francoise. "I doubt I'll see you again, so you might as well give me a proper farewell."
The old woman dutifully rose and returned Belle's embrace. "You are making a terrible mistake," she said, hugging Belle as fiercely as her thin arms allowed.
Belle shook her head in disagreement. "My time here is finished. Please convey my thanks to the Beast. He's taught me many things. I doubt my family will recognize me when I return home."
She left within the hour, taking only what she had originally brought with her. The summer climate would have made the journey somewhat pleasant if her spirits had not been so low. As it was, she could hardly will one foot to step in front of the other. She traveled through the night. Many weary hours after her departure, just before dawn, she at last arrived at her childhood home. She pounded on the door for several minutes before someone finally responded. It was her eldest brother, Laurent.
When he saw his sister standing on the threshold, he could only stare. "It's a ghost," he breathed.
"I'm back," Belle said lamely. No other words were available to her. Her journey and her heartbreak had left her dry.
Hopefully this chapter turned out alright. I'd love to hear what you think!