BELLE stared up in abject horror and was shocked at the monstrous Beast who thrust his face so close into hers that the tip of his snout almost touched her nose. She shirked as her stomach lurched in revulsion and fear as she turned her head sharply to the left and closed her eyes out of disgust and fear rather than to look at the monstrous creature.

She was far too afraid to be disgusted with her conduct at the moment.

Growing up with just Papa for company, as Mama had died when Belle was only three years old and she was too young to really remember her, she had always cherished nighttime when her father would tuck her into bed and tell her a story to lull her off into sleep.

Belle's absolute favorite tales of her father's were the tales of pretty maidens encountering a monster in some forsaken forest, only to be saved at the last possible minute by some dashing hero.

She had always wondered as to the girls' reactions in those stories when the young girls would encounter the beast, and she had always proudly told Papa that she would never behave that way if she ever found herself face-to-face with a monster.

She would be proud, brave, strong, and smart. She would know what to do to get out of the situation.

Yet now, she found herself shoved against the cold stone wall of the corridor. Her throat was now held hostage as one of the monster's paws came up to wind around her neck and squeeze, hard.

Just hard enough to apply enough pressure that she almost could not breathe, yet not so much that she fainted due to lack of oxygen. A subtle reminder that he was the one in charge.

She certainly did not feel at all brave was utterly confused and cold, and she was now struck to the bone with a wave of fear. It was raw, this lonely terror, and Belle could not manage to think straight. She yelped as she felt the creature's paw curl tighter around her throat.

His other paw held her pressed firmly against the wall, and Belle somehow managed to stay still. Her body began to tremble, and she could feel her lips starting to quiver in fear.

"Quiet," the Beast snarled in a hoarse voice, more a command than a request, and his paw holding her shoulder left it briefly so he could place a furry paw over Belle's mouth.

"Please don't, I—I don't…" she whispered, her voice trailing off as his paw left her mouth and moved upward slightly to stroke her cheek, almost…tenderly, dare Belle to think. She felt the Beast lean forward, not because this creature was touching her, but because she could sense him. She could feel his movements. Moments later, Belle could feel the Beast's breath on her cheek and the distinct sound of this creature sniffing her like the animal she knew it to be.

For a moment, it reminded her of a dog or a wolf, but then his sniffing slowed, and the Beast breathed in slowly and deeply. Belle held her breath without even realizing it as he did and only let out the breaths she had been holding when the huge Beast looked away and let out a growl from deep in his chest. A paw touched her hair and she could feel the creature's breath blow wisps of her bangs off her forehead as he kept his monstrous face still thrust close to hers, though Belle could not yet summon the courage to turn and look at breath smelled like spiced wine.

She had the ridiculous thought just then that if she had been cursed and her body transformed into a hideous Beast, if this creature who had her pinned was indeed the Prince, she might take to a little wine too, just to numb the pain, though personally, Belle did not drink and had never been able to stomach a drop of wine in her entire life.

"You see, girl? You can not even stomach the sight of me, Belle, as I am now. But you wanted to look upon me so you will look at me. Look and gaze upon your monstrous master, at the fine handiwork a witch thought to cast upon me, as means of punishment to make my father pay for his crimes. Look. At. Me."

Belle felt a terrified shudder run through her entire body at hearing how calloused the Beast's voice was. There was gravel in the monster's hoarse voice. She shivered, trying her best to keep herself under control, but she was too frightened. The creature still had one paw around her throat and the other pinning her shoulder against the wall.

She had no hope of escaping this Beast. She knew she would have no choice but to look at him as he tried to force her racing heart to relax as she slowly regained some courage after a moment or two and with painstaking slowness, turned her head back to face the creature and with great difficulty, finally opened her eyes.

Belle began to wish that she had not looked. She looked, her eyes wet, nose stuffed up and her head pounding. The Beast tilted his head to the side and regarded he with those cold wintry blue eyes that were devoid of warmth.

She waited for the inevitable moment when this creature would open his mouth to reveal his fangs and dig them into her neck, bite her and kill her if it was of a mind to do so, but that moment for Belle never even came.

When she had recovered some courage, she looked up to the creature's eyes, which were the coldest and brightest shade of wintry pale blue she had ever seen, and shook her head slowly.

She thought the beginnings of understanding were beginning to take root in her mind, that this could only be the Prince, she knew those eyes, so cold and devoid of she was having trouble allowing herself to believe it.

"I—I don't…it is you?" she whispered, amazed she could even find her voice at all. She stared into the Beast's flat and emotionless blue creature's expression and fur that looked to cover his entire body made it more and more difficult to gauge the Prince's attitude, but the Beast's lips curved upward into a little smirk as his head tilted.

What she saw in the monster's eyes most definitely frightened her, but it was not so much the fact that the Prince had been cursed and was suffering through life as some sort of Changeling, a hideous Beast whom no one could ever love, but it was the expression in his shame. The regret. The self-hatred, and dare she even thinks of this last emotion, the heartbreak. All of those emotions and more did Belle see in the Beast's pale eyes.

The emotions she saw in the monster that had her pinned against the wall mirrored how Belle had felt about the turn of events her life had taken since Papa's death she felt as though the Beast himself had taken his claws and driven them through her chest, right through her a few seconds, Belle was even sure it had stopped beating.

"H-how did you get like this?" Belle breathed out in a breathy little squeak, bringing a hand to her mouth and stifling the scream that threatened to come out. A part of her did not want to give the Prince the immense satisfaction he would feel in knowing that he was right. That she was this bothered by how he looked.

But for one reason or another, Belle knew that she simply could not face the mysterious sorrow reflected in the Beast's sapphire blue eyes, admittedly the only part of the Prince that looked to be even remotely human. It matched her own too well following Papa's death and now she was alone in the world with no one else to turn to.

"Sir?" Belle whispered once she actually managed to draw in a breath, staring at him in disbelief with wide eyes. She was far too frightened and a morbid part of her was stricken with curiosity to be too concerned with how she was making the man feel. "I—I am…sorry this happened to you." She fell silent, unsure what to say to the Prince.

Color rushed to her cheeks as his paw lowered from around her throat.

Perhaps the Beast-Prince had sensed that she was far too stunned to turn on her heels and flee from him, much less open her mouth and scream, which gave him cause to relinquish his vice around her throat.

She brought a hand to her neck and coughed, turning her head to the side and clutching at the bricked stone wall behind her for support. Only when her coughing fit stopped did he speak.

A muscle in the Beast's angular jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth.

"You? Sorry for me? I have no use for your pity. Do not look at me like that, girl," he snapped.

She froze, startled. "I—what? I don't… I don't understand? Look at how you? Like what?" she stammered softly.

The Beast smiled bitterly, as though enjoying some private joke with himself, and it immediately set Belle on edge.

"As I just said, you pity me. I can see it in your eyes that you would help me lift this wretched curse somehow, but you cannot. Pity has been known to move even the cruelest of souls on occasion. I suppose you are now expecting me to perhaps thank you for staying. You could have fled, and a part of you wants to, I can see the fear in your eyes, but I do not want your pity, or anyone else's in this castle," the Prince snarled angrily, curling his lips upward. "Now that you have looked upon the monster, the Beast that I am, go. Leave. I do not know why you were wandering the halls of the castle, despite it being forbidden at this late hour, and I cannot even bring myself to pretend to care," he muttered. "I expect that you will leave come the morning now that you know the truth, how the master of this castle truly is a monster and nothing more and nothing less than that, girl," he hissed through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed and his expression hardened considerably as he looked at her, suspicious.

Belle recoiled and pressed her back as far against the wall as she could, stiffening in both anger and fear at hearing the coldness in his voice. Her lips parted as she wracked her brain for something to say to supplicate his temper.

The last thing she needed tonight in the middle of a vicious storm was to be turned out of the castle and dismissed.

"I—If I have offended you by offering you my apologies just now, Your Highness, I did not mean to, that was not my intention." She paused, frowning, as her eyes made a scan of his cursed form. It was then that a thought came to her. The other servants in the castle, Monsieur Lumiere, Monsieur Cogsworth, and Mrs. Potts, and even her niece, Laure, had spoken nothing of the curse to her earlier tonight. Why would they keep it a secret? Her eyes widened as she was struck with the realization they did not know. "The other servants here in the castle, sir, they...they do not know that you become...this...do they, sir? The servants earlier, they spoke nothing of this, Your Highness."

The Beast tilted his head and gave her an odd look, as though he had not expected her to piece together the missing pieces of the puzzle so fast. "That is because you are the first to know, girl, and color me surprised that you are," the Beast retorted as he locked eyes with her, staring Belle down with a frigid glower. "And I would prefer it if it were to stay that way, Belle. Speak of what you have seen here to no one. They are afraid of me enough as it is."

The furrow of confusion between Belle's thin eyebrows only deepened as she shook her head, confused as to why the Prince would not tell his most trusted servants.

Perhaps, with their help, they could find a way to break his curse. But they could not help if they did not know…

"But why not?" she challenged. "It could possibly change so much for you, sir."

"Indeed, it would, girl, and you have no idea just how much things would change. You are naïve, girl, more so than I thought given our conversation earlier. Let me tell you how this would work if the other servants were to know the truth." The Beast nearly exploded through gritted teeth as he bared his fangs at her and snarled, making a truly beastly noise as he hissed, a noise Belle was sure no human could make. His paws curled into shaking fists at his side, his blue eyes had narrowed to mere slits and immediately made her think of a snake's slit-like pupils.

"If the others in the castle were to know of this curse, it would change everything I imagine. The bolder among my staff would perhaps even take advantage of it by running back to their pathetic little villages and telling any man in the taverns who will listen over a pint of ale of the Beast-Prince who lives alone in his father's home. They would send mobs here with their torches and their pitchforks, they would attack. They would raid my home, steal my family's treasures. They would kill me and mount my head on a pike in some tavern or even at the entrances to their hovels of villages to let my death serve as an example to those who would cross them. Tell me,you truly fear me and hate me so much that you would wish to sentence me to death? Is that why you suggest it, Belle, hmm?"

"N-no, of course not, I…" Belle started to say as she opened her mouth to protest.

She did not finish her thought. She let her voice trail off as she realized to try to make her case to the Prince in his current mood would be futile, and more to the point, she had been naïve and foolish not to think of this fact at once.

The Prince's family was not exactly looked upon and spoken of in fondness or kindness by those in the village. If the villagers knew of their ruler's weakness, they would easily kill him. That included his servants too, she realized with a jolt. Belle stared wide-eyed and in disbelief towards her new master and wondered if this form was permanent.

She knew that she still could not fully trust this cruel Prince, this Beast, but not even she would let herself be so cruel as to let his own people turn on him. She decided then and there that she would keep his secret, for the moment. She had nothing left to lose at any rate.

Belle shook her head slowly to herself, biting down on her lip and staring rather guiltily at the floor. She felt immense guilt towards her reactions to him thus far in the span of a single night and wondered if it was appropriate to apologize to him.

Yet, she could not make her lips form the words right now. Belle wanted nothing more than for a hole beneath her to open up and swallow her whole, but as embarrassing as this was, she knew that she could not turn away from him now.

"I—I give you my word, Your Highness, that I will keep your secret," she told him, her voice sounding small and meek, like that of a child's. She hesitated and slowly lifted her gaze to the Beast's. "This form, i-is it…?" Permanent is what she wanted to ask, but could not.

Some of the anger seemed to seep out of the Beast at that as he offered Belle a non-committal grunt and looked away for a moment. He parted his lips as if to speak, however, it took the Prince a minute.

"The curse comes upon me when the sun goes down. It is the witch's cruel idea of a joke, to let me live a normal life in the light of the sun, as the man I should be, but when night comes, I am helpless, and these transformations are extremely painful. That is why my father had instigated the new rule to the castle staff that no one is to venture into the West Wing or the basement. Those are my private rooms in which I transform. I run the risk of biting and hurting someone as I do, the pain of having every single bone in your body broken as they grow and shift into a new position is an excruciating pain I would wish upon no one. No one else but my father and mother was aware of the curse. Is," he quietly corrected himself. "And now, for reasons that I cannot understand, you are now too, you stubborn woman. Considering that it was my father's fault I am this way, he did what he could to help save his son."

A shadow of anger flickered across the Beast's monstrous form, and for a moment, Belle shivered, seeing no traces of the human man she had met earlier. But either the Prince did not notice it or was good at hiding it.

"They sent for every healer and miracle man in the country to see what could be done about lifting this witch's hex, but apparently, nothing can be done. I am to remain like this unless…" He trailed off, hesitantly so, staring at Belle.

"Unless what?" Belle whispered, the news that there might be a chance for the Prince's curse to be lifted just made her feel even more guilty at how she had behaved towards him earlier. She thought she was beginning to understand why the Prince's heart was so cold, why he was so alone in the heart, as the old woman in the kitchen she still needed to get back to had mentioned a few minutes ago, but she could wait a moment. She knew she could not leave until she was dismissed, and she dared not upset the Prince anymore than he clearly already was. She drew in a little breath and held it, waiting for the Prince to find his voice and speak to her of his curse's caveat.

The Beast's lips turned upwards into a thin smirk, though the smile did not reach his eyes. Those continued to stay dull and lifeless and cold. The rest of his body might change when night came, but his eyes remained the same.

"Nothing that you need trouble yourself over, girl. My curse is not your concern, though since I can clearly see the next question practically burning on the tip of that sharp silver tongue of yours, no, it was not my fault I am this way. My father, he came upon a priestess at a temple once during our travels. I was but a small boy, no older than six at the time. He was immediately enchanted by the woman's beauty, but she refused his advances and his offer to come away with him, back to our castle. She knew my father was a taken man and already married. Father, naturally did not like that. No woman had ever refused him, ever, and so he took what he wanted, claiming that men, powerful men, took whatever they wanted and never to yield." He paused to draw in a breath. She heard him shudder. "As punishment, when Father had gotten what he wanted from the priestess, the witch, humiliated and disgraced and through her tears, cursed my father, and by extension, me. She declared that his heir was to be forever cursed, until the day would come that his heir would possess which he never had," he explained to Belle.

Belle felt the beginnings of tears welling in her eyes. She closed them as a single tear dripped from the edge of her eye and trailed gracefully down the slope of her temple. She tried to picture the Prince as a young boy of only six years old, watching as his father forced himself upon an innocent priestess, a holy woman.

His father had tried to instill his cruelty into his son, to raise him at his knee to be just like him.

She pictured this witch, bloodied, bruised, and humiliated, broken, and cursing his father and his family into oblivion. The horrific and gruesome images in her mind made Belle shiver with gritted teeth.

"I—I'm sorry," she whispered. It was all she could think to say.

She nearly jumped out of her skin as the Beast growled in the back of his throat and sharply turned away from her.

The Prince's broad chest nearly vibrated from the sound. It was, Belle quickly came to understand, the Prince's way of terminating a conversation he no longer wished to continue.

If he could not look at her and see what she had to say, then he would not have to respond, and eventually, he would be left alone when he would dismiss her, bored of their conversation.

"Why apologize to me for a crime you did not commit, girl? A son is always doomed to pay for the sins of his father, it seems. As I just told you, I have no use for your pity or anyone else's. I do not care why you were wandering the halls of the castle this late at night, but I would…greatly appreciate it," he growled after a pause, with emphasis on his words, "That you tell no one of my curse, that you have seen me in this wretched form. I know that what I ask of you is a lot, but it must be this way, and if you truly have nowhere else to go, no other family who could take you in, then you may stay, though something tells me I will regret this decision." Belle could not be sure, but she thought she heard the faint tone of mocking in his voice as he let out a morose chuckle and smirked a bit. But the Beast's expression quickly turned sour again before she had a chance to process the shift in his voice further. "I know what I am, what my father was, and what I am now, and I need no reminders, not from anyone. Go. Leave, and don't make me say it again, Belle," he told Belle in a clipped, curt tone.

It was a moment before the Prince spoke, and when he did, his voice, hoarse, seemed to have softened somewhat. Or perhaps it was merely Belle's imagination again playing tricks on her and trying to trick her into thinking he was speaking to her now as she wished for him to do. With kindness, and even curiosity to get to know her better.

She tried to conceal her shock as she realized there was a part of her that hoped for that, simply because this proved to her that magic did exist in the world, and the Prince, cruel though he may be, was the first Changeling man she had ever met. Belle knew she had so many questions for him, questions she hoped he'd answer, in time.

"But...before you go. I confess myself curious, girl, and you will answer me. Why did you come to the castle tonight? Was it to get a glimpse of me like this, is that it? No doubt you have surely heard the whispers and rumors among the people in your village."

Belle would have immediately replied, though hearing the shift in his voice gave her pause and kept her from replying instantly. She was surprised to hear the bitterness in his words as the Prince spat them at her rather than spoke them softly.

It was in that moment that an image of reckless young boys attempting to break into the castle for a dare on some right of passage, to catch a glimpse of the fearsome monster, came to mind. She frowned.

Belle shook her head. She would have wanted to contain her honesty, but something about lying to the Prince at the moment felt wrong, especially when he had reopened old wounds and spoken of his curse.

Perhaps, she thought, it could do the Changeling Prince no harm to learn of the conditions that had led Monsieur LeFou to lead her to the castle, seeking refuge.

Perhaps, if he knew the truth, there was a chance, albeit a very small one, that he would begin to understand, and perhaps even come to start treating her better. She could only hope for that, at least.

"My father would have had me marry a man that I do not love, Your Highness. There is no good or kindness in his heart, only vanity, and arrogance. He seems to think of himself as God's given gift to women," she snorted and found it difficult not to roll her eyes at that.

Out of the corner of her lowered gaze, as she proceeded to study the ground in too engrossed a manner, she thought she saw the Beast's lips twitch as he seemed to be fighting against the urge to smirk.

"And is he?" he questioned, now merely sounding curious, not angry.

"Hardly, sir," Belle heard herself reply in a flat and distant voice. "My father died recently of sickness in his lungs. Pneumonia, the doctor said when he came to our home to call upon Papa when his illness worsened. There was nothing that could be done for him. A friend of mine in the village made mention of one of the maids being dismissed and the castle staff needed to find a replacement for her, so I came, wanting a new start, a new life if you would be so kind as to not turn me away yet. I have no wish to return home to my village, sir, you do not need to worry about me leaving. I give you my word it will not. My home no longer holds any happy memories for me, sir."

Belle, recognizing that she would get no further answers out of the Beast this night, turned on her heels and fled, disappearing back down the dark corridor the way she had come, making a beeline for the kitchens with the sack of grains in her hands for the porridge she intended to make.

She had not said this to the Beast in so many words, but she had no use for anyone's pity either, just as much as the Prince seemed to not want hers, she was not about to ask for pity from the Prince, either.

And so, Belle fled from the pity that was showing in his pale blue eyes and vowed to stay away for a good long while. But even as she thought through the notion in her mind, she felt a strange nagging pull in her chest.

Perhaps it was her curiosity drawing her towards the Prince, even in his curse form as a Beast, she could not say, but even then, the desire to talk with the man again was slowly winning over her doubts without her realizing it.

Neither did Belle realize that as she stopped in front of the kitchens where she had left the old beggar woman and found it empty, was that fate had a different idea in mind for her, despite her insistence that she could not help him.

She did not realize that, like it or not, she might not have a choice. Belle could only stare at the empty chair which had previously been occupied by the old woman, and the strange rose she had held in her hand was gone as well.

Seeing no other choice, Belle retreated swiftly from the kitchens and headed back to her bedroom, though the thought that she was now keeping the greatest secret she had ever been entrusted with in her life from everyone else in the castle did not sit well with her.

It was a long time before Belle rested her head against the pillows and fell asleep. Despair gnawed at her like a starving rat or mouse hungrily nibbled on a piece of cheese. She rested her hands over her stomach and stared numbly up at her bedroom's ceiling, her dark hair splayed like a fan against her pillow on either sides of her head.

Papa, oh how I miss you. I wish you were here now with me, Belle thought grimly. You always somehow knew what to say, what to do when things went wrong, but I have to be strong as you and Mama would want me to be. I cannot always depend on someone else to save me. I need to start looking out for and saving myself.

"Tomorrow," she whispered out loud, stroking Prince's head, as the little puppy so aptly named had curled up into a ball on top of her lap. "Tomorrow, I will speak with the Prince when I bring him his breakfast and perhaps there is a chance that he could be kind, and tomorrow, I will never feel this helpless again. Like it or not, this is my new life."

With that promise to her new dog, and perhaps even to her father and mother, may God bless their souls in Heaven, she hugged Prince close and burrowed deeply under the blankets and thick furs of her bed that felt strange and cold.

It was a long time before Belle finally fell asleep.