I know its a long time coming but hopefully it'll be worth it. Am still figuring out exactly whatI want to happen. Its so frustrating, I've got the end all figured out, but I have to write the middle first :p Thanks to all my reviewers for staying with me, I hope the story continues to please.

The clock's tick was agonising. Every minute, every second the hand moved echoed like a thunderbolt in Vincent's head. Another second of waiting, another second of not knowing, another second of fearing the worst. He'd sent the guards out when the sun was still bright and the sky was a cheerful blue; now, night had fallen and Vincent's mood darkened along with the heavens. Anxiety made him restless. He sat for a moment in a chair by the roaring fire, his body tense with apprehension. He crossed his legs, he uncrossed them and crossed them the other way; he leant forwards, sitting bolt upright and tapping his knees with his hands, then he leant back and stared at the marbled ceiling with its gilded cherubs. A few more seconds, and then he sprang up again and began to pace from one end of the room to the other, his heavy boots clumping along the wooden floor, trying to keep his mind from coming up with increasingly nasty scenarios involving his daughter's disappearance.

His nerves were in tatters. They had not yet recovered from Raisse's frantic flight into the castle and Chip's interrogation and subsequent arrest, when a weary Belle had burst into his study with the news that Raisse had vanished. At first, concern had been fairly minimal, as the princess was prone to disappearing for short periods of time when she was upset. She was usually found sitting alone in the library or wandering the gardens. One time she'd even been discovered by a serving maid curled up in the pantry asleep with a half-eaten apple in her hand.

As usual, a group of servants that Cogsworth could begrudgingly spare for a while were sent to every area of the castle in search of her. When, despite a thorough scrutiny of every room and corridor, Raisse had not been found an hour later, Vincent and Belle had begun to panic. The guards had been despatched to search the grounds including the fields and waterfall surrounding the castle. When that had been fruitless, they'd been sent out into the village and Vincent had begun his erratic vigil in the dining room, watched by a sea of anguished faces.

Belle sat motionless on the other side of the room, her beautiful face pale and rigid, watching her husband withtearful eyes. Mrs D'Arbigne (nee Potts) had made everyone tea, but it had hardly been touched—her usual remedy for most stresses and ailments being apparently ineffective on this occasion. She stood by the door with Maurice supporting her, as she was still fragile from her earlier unsuccessful conversation with her son. She clasped her husband's hand tightly and rested her head on his shoulder, as he in turn watched his daughter crumble before his eyes.

"What is taking so long?" shouted Vincent suddenly to nobody in particular. "How long does it take to search a little village, for goodness sake?"

No-one answered him, partly because they were not sure who he was addressing but mostly because they sensed that no words could possibly provide the King with a satisfactory response. Met with nothing but silence, Vincent stood with his hands on the mantelpiece, staring at the clock with a murderous gaze. On the other side of the room, Cogsworth gulped, and for about the hundredth time in the last eighteen or so years, mentally thanked God that he was himself no longer a timepiece.

The ticking continued for another half an hour, when it then began to start driving everybody else in the room crazy. The air in the dining-room grew stale with the baited breath of everyone within. Some servants including the chef, who was very aware that he had the evening's meal probably now burning on the stove in the kitchen, had just excused themselves and returned to their duties when there was a loud knock on the castle door.Every heart in the room stopped at once. The shock was followed by a general feeling ofbewilderment, as the guards would enter unannounced through the barracks of the castle if it were them.

If not them, then who? Who would visit the castle at this most inconvenient time?

Cogsworth, who had been absorbed in thinking once more of his impending retirement (the one he'd promised himself years ago once he'd become human again that had never materialised), stared stupidly ahead at the sound of the knock, before remembering it was he who was supposed to answer the door. Blushing slightly, he swept out of the room, followed by Lumiere who was himself curious to see the identity of the unexpected guest. The distraction was welcomed by both men as they moved to the door infrantic silence, thinking that the day could not possibly hold anymore unpleasant surprises.

As the neared the door, Cogsworth prepared himself by puffing out his chest and smoothing his moustache, an action that at any other time Lumiere would not have failed to find amusing. He stood a few feet back as Cogsworth turned the big brass handle and pulled the door towards him.

He started to speak, but was stopped by the sight that greeted him at the door.

……………………………………………………………………………………

When Raisse opened her eyes, she immediately shut them again. Sunlight hit her directly in the face and made her wince. She waited until the bright colours had finished dancing beneath her eyelids before gingerly opening them once more. The room had not changed, except for a single strip of daylight which sliced through the darkness like a fine cut and hurt her eyes. She moved her head so it no longer affected her and took a deep breath. She was still trapped, and it had been hours now. Frustrated, she began to cry.

Suddenly, her sobbing ceased. She had heard something. Footsteps. Slow, heavy footsteps which trod on something soft. Grass, perhaps. They grew louder and stopped outside what she now realised was a door, having previously seen nothing but wall at its location. She could hear something else. It sounded like humming, Melodic, jovial humming, followed by the noise of a key turning in a lock.

She braced herself. Finally, she would look upon the face of her abductor, no doubt a cruel, bloodthirsty torturer come to increase her torment until he got what he wanted. The door opened away from her so she was thankfully spared more light hitting her in the face, and a figure emerged from the opening. Raisse's eyes grew wide, and then slanted again in puzzlement when she saw the figure clearly. She suppressed the sudden choke of hysterical laughter than had lodged itself in her throat. It was a funny little man! Short and squat, with goofy features and messy dark hair—hardly what she'd expected. He did not look at her at first, instead focusing on moving the rag across the window to provide more light. Raisse groaned, and then squinted at the man to try and determine whether she was seeing correctly. He turned and caught her eye, then dropped his face and bowed his head, as though in shame. He said nothing for a few seconds then stammered some words without looking up.

"G…Good morning, princess."

Raisse no longer knew how to react. This man looked and acted like he would not be capable of trapping an insect, let alone snatch a princess away from heavy guard. However, she had been taught not to be deceived by appearances. Whatever the circumstances, she was a prisoner. He removed the gag from her mouth with pale, chubby fingers.

"Who are you?"

He did not answer her, seeming far more interested in the scuffed and scratched tops of his shoes. She tried again.

"What do you want with me?"

He spoke, his voice quiet as though he was used to people talking over him.

"I'm to keep you here for the master."

Ah, thought Raisse. He is working for somebody else. That makes more sense. She was not sure if she wanted to know the answer to her next question.

"What does your master want of me?"

To her utter disbelief, he shrugged and stayed silent.

"If he wants money, he'll get it, I swear. Please let me go."

He shook his head and shuffled back outside. He returned with a plate of bread and a goblet of water, and placed them in front of her. He cleared his throat and pointed.

"You must eat and drink. He says so."

Raisse almost laughed at his foolishness, but then thought better of it.

"I cannot eat while my hands are tied."

He stopped, and looked at her, obviously weighing up solutions in his head. His features were ruddy and tired, but he had a strange child-like quality about him, like a boy who had aged too quickly. She judged him to be around her father's age, although the King looked considerably younger than his thirty-eight years.

After much deliberation, the man shut and locked the door, dropping the key into his pocket, and then approached her slowly, his eyes watching for any unexpected movement. He took a small knife from his belt and cut the ropes around her wrists. She moaned in relief and examined the harsh red marks under each of her hands. They were not too bad. She was not bleeding, just sore. The man stepped back and now she could see the knife, shiny and sharp in his hand. Best not try anything rash…

She reached for the goblet, relishing as the cool liquid soothed her dry throat, then tore the bread hungrily. She felt sure it was the sweetest food she had ever tasted.

When she was done, she started to get up in order to stretch her legs, but then saw the man's trembling hand tense around the knife's handle. His eyes flicked between her and the padlock on the door.

"I must stand for my legs hurt, I beg of you. I will not try to escape, I promise."

To her surprise, he seemed to accept her words readily and took a few steps back. She straightened her legs very slowly, gritting her teeth at the cramp that shot through her joints and then stretched her arms above her head with a murmur of delight. On standing, she was unsurprised to see that her captor was several inches shorter than she, and also a good few inches wider. Once again, he gripped his knife tighter.

"My name is Raisse. What's yours?"

"Lefou."

"Thank-you, Lefou."

He shrugged his shoulders, blushed and murmured something about being welcome. Raisse almost smiled. The little man was quite endearing. She could befriend him. Maybe so much that he could help her escape in time. He certainly seemed the sort of person that was easily manipulated.

"Who do you work for, Lefou?" she said, careful to keep her tone light and casual. He opened his mouth but was then silenced by something she could not see. Wordlessly, he moved to the window and covered it again, so that the room fell dark.

"He works for me."

The voice filled the room, but it was not loud. It seemed to make the room tremble yet it was not booming. Even more disturbingly, it seemed to come from inside her own head. She felt goosebumps begin to form on her bare arms and her body temperature drop so her skin seemed full of ice water. Tears fell and froze onto her cheeks. Her lips cracked as she spoke.

"Who's there? Who are you?"

She looked to Lefou for help, but he stood silently in a corner of the room, watching what seemed to be just a patch of darkness. As she stared though, it started to take on some sort of form and then two eyes opened in front of her.

Those eyes.

Raisse squeaked in terror and dropped to her knees, suddenly recalling a conversation she had long since forgotten.

"Mama! Mama!" cried the little girl as she pounded her fists on her parent' chamber door. "Papa!"

The door opened and a tired face peered out.

"Raisse? What are you doing out of bed? Where's Essie?"

"She's asleep, Papa", wailed the child. "There are monsters in my room. They're everywhere. Save me, Papa!"

She flung herself forward and grabbed her father's waist, burying her face in his nightclothes. Her father sighed, and took her hand. Together, they went back to her bedchambers where they found Essie on the verge of panic, having woken up to find the princess missing.

"Leave us, Essie."

The servant obeyed and exited the room. Raisse watched as her father once again went through the routine of showing her the inside of every cupboard and the underside of every table and the lack of monsters hiding there. Raisse was not convinced. The monsters she'd seen made their own shadows, not inhabited the shadows of others. They came at her from every angle, then disappeared, but never fully left.

Time had passed, and she'd forgotten the silly fears of childhood. However, when she saw the face of the creature who held her hostage, she was six years old again, a child quivering beneath the blankets. She wanted her father more than anything.

"Papa," she whispered softly to herself, as the very real monster cackled, once again delighted at its ability to scare.

"You do not like my appearance. Heed what I say and I will not have to show myself too often. No doubt you would prefer that."

He flickered, momentarily turning the darkness into several shades of grey.

"I have no care for you. You are bait, no more. If you ceased to exist, it would not trouble me. However, my accomplice Lefou here"…the eyes flicked to him…"cares very much about your fate. Your life is in his hands from now on. I would advise you not to underestimate either of us, child."

Raisse felt herself nodding against her will.

"Therefore, from this moment onwards, you will do as he tells you and you will not speak unless spoken to. In return, you will not be harmed. Is that understood?"

She nodded again.

"Lefou?"

"Yes, master?"

"Tie her back up and leave her for a while alone. Do not give her more food until she has proved her obedience to you."

"Yes, master."

The eyes extinguished and Raisse did not protest as she was restrained once more. Lefou shut the door hard (as it fit ill in the frame) but she did not hear it. She had one thought, and one thought only.

"Jesu, help me."

Little did she know, her rescue had already begun.