ALRIGHT. I have blown off a lot of reading for this chapter, but I didn't want to delay any longer. This is the second to last chapter of the story, and I want to thank everyone who has stuck around for it! I've honestly been very surprised and honored by the support that you readers have given to Useless Beauty; I really can't thank you enough. I also want to give shout-outs to the wonderful people who reviewed the previous chapter: Akora17, Lovewriting12, Roxanne Beaumont, Redheadcammie02, Xandi, Puff Pastry, Hear Alice, and all anonymous guests. A lot of these readers have pretty excellent stories of their own, and I recommend you check them out!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 16:

Belle hated herself for shaking as she stepped through the gates of the castle grounds and silently followed Francoise to the unobtrusive side door through which she had first entered over a year ago. She didn't even quite know the reasons for these blasted shivers. She would rather die than admit that even a tiny fraction of them had something to do with hope or excitement over the prospect of seeing the Beast once again. But even if she was entirely honest with herself, it was obvious that most of her tremors were born of fear.

She feared what the Beast would say to her, how she would behave, how everything would appear to Francoise… but most of all, she feared that something terrible had happened to the Beast. Francoise would not give her any information whatsoever, and Belle knew better than to push the old woman when she had decided on silence. But it was quite clear that Francoise was troubled – perhaps even terrified.

When they rounded the side of the castle, Belle stopped in her tracks. "Francoise, what is the meaning of this?" she breathed.

Before her was the enchanted rosebush, in the same place it had always been. Yet its leaves had withered, and only a single fading rose remained on its branches, barely holding on. That rose would certainly fall before the day was ended. "How long has it been like this?" Belle asked.

Francoise took in a deep breath before replying. "The first leaves fell three days before the master returned."

It was not difficult to determine what the fading rosebush signified. "Why didn't you tell me he was dying?" Belle nearly screamed, whirling about to face the servant woman. She could have struck Francoise, such was her anger. And shock. And blinding grief. She had not realized how much it would hurt to lose the Beast until he was already dying.

Francoise was soundlessly weeping. "I knew you'd find out soon enough," she replied through her tears. "When Vincent brought him back, he was wounded. He'd lost too much blood and had too many injuries."

Belle was still processing the fact that soon the Beast, the man she very unwillingly loved, would be gone, no more, never again to be seen, remembered to most people only as the cruel child who went on crusade and never returned to his subjects. He would be recalled by only a few as the man who was hopelessly trapped by a fairy's curse and his own impotent rage.

She willed herself not to cry yet, not to let a single tear fall. After the Beast had passed, there would be endless hours to cry and mourn the friendship that had been and the love that would never be. For now, she simply had to enter the castle. "Come, Francoise," she said, her voice shaky and barely in control. "Before we reach the Beast, I want you to tell me what happened." Together, they turned away from the withering rosebush.

Francoise's voice echoed off the walls of the castle as they walked. "He had been away for months. Neither Vincent nor I knew where he had gone. But four days ago, there was a great commotion in the village. Everyone was screaming, running, grabbing whatever they could use as a weapon. Vincent was startled by the uproar, and he asked what had happened. They told him that someone had spotted a great beast in the forest, savaging a woman. They were going to kill the beast and rescue the woman he had attacked."

"I suppose I'd want to kill such a beast, too," Belle murmured.

"Yes, I can't blame the villagers for their fear," Francoise agreed, though her voice cracked on the final word. "Vincent tried to dissuade them, but of course no one would listen. It seems that the master escaped the villagers, but not before receiving terrible wounds. Vincent came to fetch me, and we spent the next few days searching for the master. He was barely alive when we found him."

They turned down the hallway that led to the Beast's chambers. Belle was growing closer to tears with every step she took. "How did you get him back to the castle?"

"It was extremely difficult," Francoise grimly replied. "But we managed."

"Why did the villagers think he was attacking a woman?" Belle asked as they came to stand outside the Beast's room. She could hear people stirring within.

"There was a woman with him, but he was not attacking her," Francoise replied, pushing the heavy wooden door open with a long, ragged sigh.

The antique furniture had been removed, and there was no fire in the hearth. The room was bare aside from a mat on the floor underneath the massive, unconscious body of the Beast. His chest was rising and falling, but only barely. Beside him sat Vincent, helplessly holding his chin in his hands. A middle-aged woman, worn thin by a lifetime of trials but still beautiful, was examining a wound in the Beast's shoulder. She glanced up as the door opened.

"You returned," she said flatly.

"I did," Francoise agreed. "This is Belle."

The other woman nodded cautiously. "I have heard many stories of you," she said, "from both Vincent and his brother."

It took a moment for Belle to realize exactly who the woman was referring to as Vincent's brother. Once she had reasoned her way through this puzzle, everything else became clear. "You must be Vincent's mother," she said quietly. She closed the door behind her as she entered the room behind Francoise.

"Marie," the woman said by way of introduction.

"I'm glad to meet you, though not under these circumstances," Belle said. She almost felt as though she should curtsey. "It's very good of you to take care of him," she remarked, seating herself on the cold floor next to Vincent. He wordlessly took her hand.

"Why wouldn't I?" Marie replied. "I helped care for him as a child. I might as well care for him in death." She spoke with the matter-of-fact tone of a woman who had seen more than enough death and suffering for a lifetime. "Besides," she continued, "he did come back for me in the end. He brought me back to my son." Pausing in her ministrations, she glanced at Vincent with a small, tentative smile. It was the only smile Belle had seen that day.

"Forgiveness is difficult, but I will always be grateful to him," Vincent suddenly said. "I only wish he had taken me with him when he went to search for my mother."

"So that was why he left?" Belle looked up at Francoise for confirmation. "He went away to find Marie?"

"So it would seem," Francoise said with a slow nod. "After a lifetime of mistakes, he did right in the end. Would you like me to take over?" This last question was directed towards Marie.

The other woman merely sighed and shook her head. "There's really no point to doing anything more." She now looked at Belle with a compassionate expression. "I'm told you loved him, beast though he was."

"Oh… yes," Belle said, inexplicably embarrassed. "I did. I do."

"Then perhaps you would prefer it if we left you alone to say your farewell. He won't be with us for long. You're fortunate you arrived when you did."

Belle was surprised at how quickly tears leapt into her eyes. "Yes, maybe that would be best," she agreed. She kept her eyes fixed on the stone floor as Vincent, Francoise and Marie quietly filed out of the room. Once the door closed behind them, she finally allowed herself to cry.

She poured out all her rage over her spurned love and all her grief over the fact that this wise, strong, hopelessly trapped man would never again know what it was to be human. The tears streamed down her face, down her dress, dripping onto the floor. She didn't know how she could ever forgive God for allowing the Beast to come to this end.

At last, her tears ran dry, and she composed herself with ragged breaths. Reaching out, she laid a hand on the Beast's side. It felt as though there was dry blood beneath her fingers, but she didn't mind. After another minute, she was at last able to speak. "I'm so glad you found Marie," she said. "I'm so glad you searched for Marie." She paused and simply listened to the almost imperceptible sound of the Beast's breathing. "I'm sorry it killed you. You were finally able to do what you knew was right, and it killed you. I don't know why that had to happen. But, if you're able to hear any of this, then please know that I'm so proud of you. And to me, you are certainly no longer a beast." Tears again. They just refused to stay inside.

Suddenly the Beast shifted his weight, causing Belle to jump back in fright. His breathing intensified. Slowly and laboriously, he managed to form several words. "Thank you," he said in a low growl. It sounded as though each syllable was causing him pain.

As she recovered from her shock, Belle crept closer to the Beast and once again placed her hand on his side. "I didn't know you were awake. And you're welcome, although I don't know what for," she whispered. "Thank you for making it so that I'm not just a 'caricature' of a person."

The Beast growled once again. "I'm sorry… that I ever said that. It was false."

"Don't talk too much," Belle commanded him.

"It doesn't matter," he replied. Each word seemed to take a lifetime for him to utter. "I'll be gone quite soon. But thank you."

"And thank you."

The Beast made some sort of rumbling, coughing sound, and Belle realized that it was a laugh. "Gratitude is not a bad way to end a life," he said with a sigh.

"You're a far better person than I am," Belle said, running her hand along his shoulder. "I couldn't accept it like that."

"That's because you have much to live for."

"I had always nursed this foolish hope that I would have you to live for."

A thick silence fell between them, punctuated only by the Beast's labored breathing. "Belle…" he began, but she cut him off.

"Don't worry about it. I understand your feelings. As long as I can stay beside you to the end, I'll be content." She ignored the tears that were still trickling down her face.

"I didn't want you to leave," the Beast quietly said.

"I know," Belle murmured. "But it was good of you to release me when you knew I could never save you."

"Belle," the Beast suddenly growled, "for the first time in my life… I think I'm content with myself."

Belle smiled at him through her tears. "As you should be. You can't completely set right the things you've done, but you've done the very best can. Everyone is proud of you."

"But you must understand…" And here the Beast had to rest for a moment; speaking took far too energy from him. "You must understand, I could never say it as long as I hated who I was, but Belle… I do love you."

For several seconds, Belle could only stare at him. "What?"

"More than anything." She could barely hear him now. His strength was fading even more quickly than before. He sighed. "I suppose it doesn't matter now…"

"Of course it matters!" Belle nearly shouted at him. Even more tears were coming, now that she could see how close they can been to happiness. "At least you could say it in the end. Don't say it again, because you'll die even sooner - I can see what all this talking is doing to you. But know that I still love you, too." She collapsed against his side, shaking with emotion and the strain of holding in her grief. "Does this hurt you?"

"No," the Beast replied in a whisper. And then he fell silent. Belle clung desperately to him, as though she could physically keep his life from slipping away. Yet with every passing second, the sound of his breaths grew fainter and fainter.

A knock sounded on the door. "Who is it?" Belle asked, raising her head.

The peace of the death-chamber was shattered as Francoise flung the door open, her face white with alarm. "Belle, has anything happened?" She had clearly run to the room as quickly as possible; she was practically panting.

Belle was at a loss to comprehend the woman's sudden terror. "No, Francoise, nothing's happened. He's still here, but he's almost gone. What is it?"

Francoise gave her a strange, almost distrustful look. "There's a new bud on the rosebush," she finally said.

"How?"

"I don't know. That's why I've come back. Are you sure nothing happened?"

Belle vigorously shook her head back and forth. "I'm quite positive..."

But she was abruptly cut off by a veritable explosion of light and sound and some sort of power that she had never encountered before. Around the Beast, everything was light – various shades of light, various textures, if one can imagine such a thing. Everything was also sound – not noise, but sound – not a single sound, but a tremendous confluence of sounds that were certainly not harmonious, but also far from dissonant.

"What is this?" Belle screamed to Francoise, but she received no response. The light and sound was intensifying, and Belle would not be able to bear it much longer. Something was happening around the Beast, but she knew not what. She could hope, but such a thing was surely out of the question…

The light was fading at last, but Belle's eyes were dazzled and she could not yet see. She felt Francoise rushing past her towards the Beast. She rubbed her eyes. She needed to know what was happening. From the direction of the Beast, she heard Francoise sobbing. At last, her vision began to clear, and she squinted towards where she knew the Beast had been laying.

He was gone. The massive, hulking shape of the Beast had vanished entirely. Where he had once laid dying, Francoise was now crouched over, tending to something far smaller than the Beast on the ground before her.

"What is it?" Belle asked, unsteadily rising to her feet.

"Let me cover him!" Francoise hissed at her. Despite her harsh tone, there was something joyful underlying her words.

"The curse didn't…"

"Out of the room," Francoise said, giving her a quick shove. "Leave. I'll call you back in a moment. Marie and Vincent are in the hall; tell them to come in. Just wait a minute. I promise I'll call you back inside. Go!"

As Belle had never heard Francoise speak with such vehemence, she obeyed immediately. Still shaken from whatever had occurred inside those chambers, she stumbled outside into the hallway. Sure enough, Marie and Vincent were standing side by side, both wearing startled yet hopeful expressions. "Francoise wants you to go inside," Belle said.

"You should sit down before you collapse," Marie said to her as she glided past and vanished into the room with her son.

Marie's advice seemed rather sound. Belle slumped against the wall and allowed herself to slide down to the floor of the hall. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she attempted to process what she had just seen.

Francoise had said, "Let me cover him." Who was 'him'? He had to be the Beast; there was no other 'him.' The Beast, however, was clearly gone. There was no trace of his enormous form. There were very few possible explanations for this. Either the Beast had literally vanished and someone else had taken his place, or the Beast had become 'him.' And if the Beast had become 'him,' then that meant the spell was broken, unless some other horrifying third option had occurred. But Belle could not even begin to imagine what that third option could possibly be. The spell was most certainly broken; it had to have been the Beast's confession of love that finally broke it.

"The spell is broken…" she murmured to her knees. What did that mean, though? Of course, it meant that the Beast was human again. But what did it mean for her? Did it mean anything at all? She wouldn't know anything for certain until she was allowed back in that room.

Without warning, the door of the Beast's chamber was flung open. In the doorway stood a man – but he did not stand there for very long. "My Belle. You look terrified," he said before dashing down the hallway in a very unsteady, haphazard fashion.

Francoise, Marie and Vincent peered out of the doorway. Marie and Vincent looked somewhat shaken, but Francoise was smiling as Belle had never seen her smile before. "I suggest you follow him," she said to the rather traumatized girl on the floor.

"Must I?" Belle asked timidly. She felt as though she had completely regressed to the terrified child who had first arrived at the castle.

"Go to him," Francoise commanded her. "He's just testing his legs. Get up and follow him."

"Yes, I'll go," Belle quickly said, rising to her feet and beginning to pick her way down the hallway. She wasn't certain where the man – the Beast? – had gone, but a sudden crash from somewhere ahead of her showed her the way. She caught up with the man in the main foyer of castle, where he had apparently knocked over a priceless vase from a table against the wall.

He was cursing as he picked up the various pieces of the shattered ornament. "Do you need help?" Belle nervously asked him. He looked up, and for the first time Belle was able to get a good view of his features. They were the same features she had seen in Vincent's hidden portrait many months before. There were the green eyes, and the broad forehead, and the strong jaw. Francoise had hastily dressed him in some simple, loose-fitting clothes. They suited him.

"I've become rather destructive, post-metamorphosis," he said, gesturing to the broken vase. "I'm not used to walking about on two legs." His voice was gentle, but sounded strange to Belle, who was accustomed to hearing him speak in a growl.

She didn't know what to say, and an awkward silence fell between them. After some time had passed, he gave her a look of impatience and said, "Well, what do you think?" Glancing down at himself, he muttered, "I might need some time to get used to it, myself."

"Very nice," Belle said in a voice that was far too close to a squeak.

Now he was looking at her with amusement. "Is that all?" Bending down, he continued to pick up pieces of china that had flown rather far from the original location of the vase.

"What happened to all your wounds?" Belle asked. She was pleased to find that her voice had returned.

"Ah, yes," the man said, standing once again and depositing the pieces of the vase in a tidy pile on the table. "Apparently they're gone. I don't believe I'm in any danger of dying anymore, which is something of a relief." He paused and scowled. "Does my voice sound strange to you?"

"Extremely," Belle said, finally cracking a smile.

"I sound like I never reached maturity," the man sighed. "I suppose that's something else to adjust to."

Belle took a tentative step forward. "Are you… glad to be human again?"

For the first time, he truly smiled. "I've never been happier. You can't imagine the plans I have. Simple ones, to start with, like eating with proper utensils and taking the stairs with two legs, not four. But I'm going to reassume my crown, meet with my vassals again." He stretched out his arms, his face assuming a childlike expression of delight as he discovered that they were, in fact, normal human arms.

"That sounds absolutely wonderful," Belle said, smiling back at him as she stepped forward once again.

A somewhat mischievous expression, one that Belle was quite familiar with, had crept onto his face. "I also look forward to finally getting my hands on you."

"What?" Belle squawked. Her entire face felt as though it was covered in flames.

"My transformation didn't affect my mental faculties. I remember every word of our final conversation. And I meant every word I said to you." He paused before hesitantly asking, "Can you say the same?"

Of course she did. The problem was getting the words from her heart and mind to her lips. The man before her began to look increasingly discouraged with every second that she delayed. Finally, after far too much of a struggle, Belle was able to say, "Yes. I meant it with all my heart."

The biggest smile that Belle had ever seen on any human being suddenly spread across the man's face. "May I kiss you?" he unexpectedly asked. He took a step forward and stumbled a little bit. Grimacing at his clumsiness, he said, "It may go poorly. My motor control and depth perception are not especially good at the moment."

Belle laughed. She had never dared to hope that one day she would see the Beast as the strong, handsome, and clever man that he used to be. However, as the man drew closer and her heart began beating faster, she held out a hand to stop him. "You are not going to touch me until I know what your actual name is."

Now it was the man's turn to laugh. "I would expect nothing less of you. Very well, then. My name was and is Lord Armand, and I am the ruler of this region."

"Armand," Belle repeated to herself. Looking up at him, she ruefully remarked, "I may accidentally refer to you as the Beast, on occasion."

"Hopefully not on too many occasions, though I'll forgive a few slips of the tongue. At the very least, I hope I don't give you any more reason to use that unfortunate title. I completely intend to keep my animal instincts in check, although right now I'm tempted to let them keep drawing me closer to you…"

"I never knew you were a flirt!" Belle exclaimed, laughing as Armand gently slipped his arms around her.

"Well, can you imagine how horrifying it would have been if a horned, ox-bear-boar chimera-type creature was speaking words of love to you? I'm repulsed just imagining the scene. It would not do." He bent his head down just as Belle lifted hers upward, their lips met, and both smiled into the kiss as at last they were able to give some expression to the love that had been steadily growing for over a year's time.

They kissed for a long time - longer than Belle had expected, and certainly longer than either of them had intended. When Armand finally pulled away, Belle simply buried her face in his chest. "This is why I wanted to be human again," Armand announced, wrapping his arms even more tightly around her.

"Nonsense," Belle said, her voice muffled by his chest. "It was the instrinsic value of your humanity that motivated your quest for transformation."

"I'm so pleased that you're still capable of discussing the instrinsic value of my humanity."

"I see you're just as patronizing as when you were a beast."

"I think you'll be surprised at how little has changed. But for now, I think we'd best return to Francoise. We both owe her a proper thank you for all she's endured over the years."

Smiling, Belle pulled back and slipped her hand inside of his, and together they set out through the halls of the castle once again. If they had bothered to glance outside, they would have seen an old woman smiling to herself as she slowly dug the enchanted rosebush out of its place.

Pronunciation tip: Armand is pronounced "Ar-MAWN." Hurray for French names! At any rate, please do review and tell me what you think. I'll be uploading an epilogue at some point in the next few days so that you can find out what happens to the rest of our characters.