Chapter 7- Enchanted Strife, and Belle Returns
The four men sat motionless with terror as the wolves growled. After a few moments, the wolves did a curious thing; they lined up in a neat row on the path, opening up the way home for the men. They continued to growl threateningly, yet did not attempt to pounce. Their eyes glowed an eerie, florescent blue.
Gilles, Stanley, Andre, and Dick picked themselves off the ground and ran as fast as they possibly could toward the village. Dick, the tallest, disappeared off into the distance, Stanley somewhat farther behind, while the less-in-shape Andre and Gilles struggled to catch up, hands clutching their chests. Gilles thought he just might die today.
They managed to survive, and later found themselves in the tavern. When they first lumbered in, white-faced with fear and exhaustion, their noses picked up something delicious, a new type of beverage. Lefou came out of the back room after he heard the fellows collapse in the smaller chairs around a table. None of them wanted to sit in the huge, cozy furry chair near the fireplace, for fear of upsetting the new tavern keeper. No one but Gaston had ever sat on that chair.
"What happened, guys?" He was coatless, wearing a bartender's apron and holding a bag of barley.
Gilles was white as a sheet, and his teeth clattered. "Y-Y-you d-don't want to go back there."
"No luck, Lefou," said Stanley. "I don't think we will ever know what became of the Beast. We were driven away. Wolves. If there was a body, those creepy wolves probably...ate it." Even he looked frightened.
Lefou took some tankards of cold water and set them on the men's table. He looked wistfully up at the portrait over the fireplace, thinking about what an honor it would be to display the trophy of the great Beast and the legend of the famous Gaston de Soleil to all who came, near and far. The spot he'd wished for it to be placed was still empty.
"What's that cooking? It smells delicious," asked Andre, trying to change the subject.
"It's mild ale," answered Lefou, unenthusiastic and still depressed. "It's warmed up and it has to distill. It won't be ready to drink for a few days. Sorry. Only water for now. I'm going to sleep, good night," Lefou said in a choked voice. He headed up the stairs to Gaston's old room, tired and on the verge of tears just as they'd seen him every single day since that horrible night.
"Let's go home, Marie's probably wondering what went on today," said Andre.
"Yes, Mathilde and the kids are for sure," said Gilles, and the frazzled foursome took their leave, anxious for the safety of their homes.
Delphine went back to her home town, the secret Enchanted village of Cachette pour Sorcière, located up in the highest snowy peaks of the Aravis mountain range. She headed straight toward the fine manor home of Olivier Lamont, the man she had been madly in love with for nearly ten years. He was the son of one of the wealthiest Enchanters, an associate of her father. Lamont was a charming man, though secretive and quirky, often taking long trips away. Since Delphine was always strong and independent, not needing him constantly, they made a fine pair.
She rang the bell of the ornate, stained-glass door, set with a glimmering doorknob of pure ruby. It opened, revealing a tall, thin man with a dark complexion and a black goatee. Delphine smiled, happy to see him after almost a year. He frowned.
"Delphine, I am glad you came. We need to talk."
"What is the problem, darling?" She put her arms up to embrace him, but he turned away. "Sit down, please." He gestured to a plush chair, and sat down on the other end of the large room. She remained standing.
"I have decided to leave here. And...I need to let you go, Delphine. I love someone else."
"But, Olivier, I.." Hurt and anger boiled up inside her. "Who? Who could you love more after all these years?"
Lamont sighed with difficulty. "Her name is Aurore, and I met her on my travels. She is...a mortal." Delphine gasped. "I am moving to Paris with her. I am going to live the rest of my life as a mortal, since I am not a true Enchanter. I have never performed my own magic."
"You can do magic. What are you talking about?" Delphine said, her voice rising to the level of a screech. But then, in all the years of her on and off relationship with Olivier Lamont, she had never actually seen him do a spell of wand magic on his own. They had been either in large social groups, or alone together in which she had always done spells, never noticing his passivity. She always wondered why he traveled by horse and stagecoach, and did little things the 'hard' way. The horrible realization dawned on her.
"You are of mortal blood?"
"My parents stole me from mortals when they could have no child of their own. It is a family secret. Has it ever occurred to you why you never saw me in magical school when we were young, even though we are close in age? I have been able to hide behind my family name, my social circles. You have been deceived by appearances."
"You lied to me! You are one of those nasty... No! Show me your wand. Cast a spell."
Lamont pulled a wand from his umber-brown frock coat. "Father bought this for himself as an extra for him but gave it to me to carry. Sometimes, at parties, he would silently think the incantation, pointing his own wand under his coat, while I pretended to use it just to keep the public from-"
"Olivier, cast a spell! Any spell. Levitate a chair!" Delphine demanded.
He pointed his wand at the high stained-glass window. "Fracasser!" he shouted. Delphine winced a moment, but nothing happened. The window did not shatter. She looked at Lamont's face, and he was smiling gently.
"So you are proud of this! You enjoy being useless and having the blood of a lowly..."
"Stop it, Delphine! I no longer hate mortals, now that I have realized my heritage. In fact, it is better than before, when I believed I was just a defective Enchanter. I have overcome my prejudices. Aurore makes me feel valued, and so I must go."
"How dare you!" She glared at him in contempt.
"You are a powerful sorceress, and I am not. We do not belong together, Delphine. I wish you well." He looked happy and content, finally at peace with himself.
The Enchantress gave him an icy cold look and stormed out of Olivier Lamont's fine mountaintop manor. She pointed her wand at the ornate stained glass windows, and they burst and shattered, spilling glass over the snowy ground. She disappeared away, in a blind rage.
The three wolves in the forest near Prince Adam's castle faded in a mist of glowing electric blue. The mist shifted and reformed until in a matter of seconds, they had resumed their natural forms of men.
"I hope we didn't frighten those men to death, Father," said Bastien LaBarre, a tall and fine-featured Enchanter with long brown hair pulled back in an elegant ribbon, dressed in pale blue just as his father and brother.
"I do not believe so, but better they are frightened than encounter Delphine again," replied his father Fabien. "Unfortunately for us, she has now left. I was hoping we could stop her before she reappears near the Prince's castle." A few weeks before, when Adam's curse was broken and Delphine showed up in the village, she was tracked by Le Grande Merlin's Mortal Protection agents, and Fabien and his sons were sent to investigate.
"Do you think she could ever become a benevolent Enchantress? Perhaps she will tire of cursing mortals?" asked the younger of the two sons, Benoit.
"Do not be naive, Benoit," answered Bastien. "She may have had a chance to be on our side years ago, but this is Quentin Dufresne's daughter we are talking of, the darkest Enchanter in generations. I doubt after feeling the power of dark curses, especially a curse as terrible as Homme-Bête, she would only wish to turn stones to gems from now on."
"My ears have been buzzing dreadfully, I believe someone has been talking about me?"
The singsong woman's voice was sharp and loud, coming from behind the LaBarre men. They turned around and pulled out their magic wands as fast as possible. The very same moment, Delphine, as her true beautiful self in her signature green gown, swished her wand about like a whip in their direction.
"Lapin!" she shouted.
Delphine's typically solemn face crinkled with amusement, and she couldn't help but smile at what she had done to Fabien, Bastien and Benoit LaBarre.
"You three are nothing but fools for helping protect mortals. My father has been right all along! Can't you see how much more power we could have if we can control them? You are weak, like little rabbits. Perhaps you can think about how to truly help the Enchanted Race when you turn human again," Delphine said gently to them, her pale eyes wide and showing signs of growing quite unhinged.
"Adieu, gentlemen. There is a patch of clover in the meadow not far from here. Bon appetit!" she said sweetly to them as she disappeared in a gentle white glow.
Ever since the happy announcement of the official engagement of Belle and Adam, the palace was full of busy bustling and joyful planning. Belle and Maurice realized, about a week after the transformation, that they needed to go back to their cottage in the village to recover their belongings in order to settle in the castle permanently, as members of Adam's family.
One morning, they sat on the buckboard of a boxy supply wagon while one of the horse grooms hitched up Phillipe and another sturdy Shire, a mare that Michel, the young stable groom, had named Antoinette. She was of a tan and cream color, and she and Phillipe were nuzzling each other and nickering softly as Michel fastened their hitching.
"I think there might be another love match among the horses, Mistress Belle... Your Majesty, I need to call you now," Michel said to Belle, grinning. The stable boy was especially happy to be freed of Delphine's curse. He had been a water bucket for the last decade. In his human form, he was a small, slightly-built young man with long brown hair, a wispy mustache, and dimples. All of the young maids on staff had an eye on him.
"Please, just call me Belle. I don't think I can ever get used to 'Your Majesty!'" Belle said shyly as she covered her head with the fur-trimmed hood of her red winter shawl. It was that dreary, blustery time of year where it wasn't really winter anymore, but not quite spring either.
She was overwhelmed at all that had transpired- first the transformation, then Adam's proposal. They decided that the wedding would be set for the first Sunday of April. Adam wanted it to be as soon as possible, practically the very next day after his transformation, but Belle felt she wanted to have at least a short time for a courting period, and some of the servants wanted time to put on as grand a wedding as they could.
Maurice shook the reins, and drove the wagon down the valley, over a wide bridge over the now-thawed river, and through a shady wooded path on their way to the village.
A rustling sound caught Belle's attention. "What do you think that is, Papa?"
"Don't worry, Belle. Probably a deer or a rabbit. There may be wolves about, but this wagon is sturdy. They won't hurt us." He gazed calmly at the path ahead. Belle looked into the forest and felt relieved, as she caught a glimpse of rabbits hopping in the underbrush.
They reached the village. Everything was the same as before, but Belle had the feeling that this was not her home anymore. She and her father belonged in the castle now, with Adam and his friendly household of servants. As Phillipe and Antoinette pulled their wagon along the main street, people glanced at them as they passed through, and then looked away. She could sense the unfriendliness.
Two middle aged men, one fair-haired with only one tooth in his mouth, the other ruddy-faced and burly, stared at Belle and looked at each other, whispering. Belle turned from them and tried to look ahead, to the little stream and bridge that led to their cottage.
She tried not to feel hurt or rejected, but it still bothered her. Why should it matter now, she thought. They're just simple, little, provincial people. Before, she hadn't related to them well for her being "odd" and wanting to read and talk of fairytales rather than practical conversation. Now, the negativity she sensed was because she was the reason behind the events of Gaston's death. Yet, there was no way on earth they could understand the truth or know the secret behind the Beast.
They passed the shops and homes of the village and crossed a little bridge. The cottage appeared before them- a quaint house with a spinning windmill and a thatched roof. The farm animals were gone; the goats and chickens were taken by one of the farmers for himself. Maurice didn't care; it could have been considered thievery but he didn't want to press the matter. He had no need for the livestock anymore.
They entered the cottage, and took about an hour or so loading their favorite items- only a few pieces of furniture, keepsakes, and clothing into the wagon. One of the first things that caught Belle's eye was the painting of her mother.
Hélene DeFleur had died at about the age of forty, of a fever. She resembled Belle, with her heart-shaped face, long brown hair and amber-brown eyes. Belle took the portrait down and held it, looking at the face of her mother. Her memories of her were distant; but the most vivid were her reading of fairytales to her, as well as their walks in the parks in the city where they had lived when Belle was a small child. They had moved several times, as Maurice had gone to attend several schools, studying science and physics. Financial difficulties caused him to suspend his studies, and he worked as a carpenter from then on. His talent in building as well as science was what led him to his dream of becoming an inventor.
Maurice came up next to his daughter, putting his arm around her as they looked at the painting in loving memory.
"Can you imagine- what she would think of this?" said Maurice. "She always called me her 'Prince Charming'…always loved her fairytales of castles. I was so lucky to have been her husband…those ten short years," Maurice said sadly, his eyes downcast in remembrance.
"I believe Maman is happy where she is now, and if you wish to move on, it will be all right," said Belle softly.
Belle looked her father directly in the eyes. A little blush came over Maurice's face. Belle knew that her father, in the last several days, was spending nearly every waking moment in the castle talking and laughing with Emmeline Potts. She hoped that the little friendship they had formed would grow into something more; Maurice was sixty, and he deserved a new, special someone to live out the remainder of his life with.
"Thank you, Belle," he told her gently, tears coming to his eyes. The father and daughter embraced each other in the still, quiet house; in which they would put up for sale and no longer return to.
Shortly after, they drove the wagon past the village square. Belle and Maurice felt rather hungry, so they decided to stop into the bakery, where they had always enjoyed the pastries and baguettes. They entered, and to their relief found it relatively empty of people, save Marie Desjardins, the baker's wife. She was a short, plump little woman with fair features, wearing a flour-dusted dress and apron, a ruffled white cap on her head. She smiled brightly at Belle and Maurice.
"Belle! Maurice! You are back, I cannot believe it!" she gushed. Of all in the village, the two people who Belle could expect to be kind to her now were Madame Desjardins and the bookseller, Monsieur Libre. Belle felt a little more relaxed and safe. Maurice took some franc-pieces out of his pocket and ordered some baguettes and cherry patisseries.
"Would you care for a slice of lamb and vegetable pie as well?" Marie offered. "We have such a surplus of lamb recently... no particular reason at all, I- I mean..." she stammered. Maurice, happily digging into the pie, paid no heed to her nervousness.
Marie decided to change the subject. Her face expressed concern, and a little curiosity. "I know this is none of my business, but I am so glad to see you both are here, and safe. I mean…you know, I was curious and all about what happened with…well…"
She was trying not to come out and say it, but it was obvious she wanted the full scoop on the mystery of the Beast.
"He's dead, Madame."
Belle's frank and direct reply took Madame Desjardins by surprise. She looked shocked for a moment.
"The Beast is dead. He was killed that night…he is no longer a worry or a threat." It was true, in a way. Physically, there was no longer an eight-foot-tall, horned furry creature in existence, Belle rationalized. Maurice froze from forking a bite of pie in his mouth and, after a moment of consideration, he nodded.
The two of them did not notice that Andre had suddenly entered the shop behind them. He looked as shocked as his wife to see them back in town again.
"What did you say?" he inquired in curiosity, as he carried an empty tray to the counter and proceeded to fill it with loaves.
"It has been a pleasure, Madame, but we must go now," said Maurice, looking uncomfortable. He took the bag of snacks and proceeded out the door. The last time he had seen the baker, he was laughing the loudest in a crowd of mockers, wishing for Maurice to be sent to the Maison de Lunes.
Belle paused. She knew that Madame Desjardins liked friendly gossip and telling the whole town things she heard, so she saw an opportunity to introduce the village to the Adam she knew and loved.
"The castle is a safe place now," she blurted out. "I am going to live there- because- I am marrying into the royal family."
Marie looked confused. "Royal family- why, that castle has been abandoned for years! Do you mean that the young prince is back?"
"Yes," answered Belle, growing more self-assured. "I am getting married. To Prince Adam. He is the son of Prince Alexandre, who used to rule this principality until he and Adam's mother passed away. Adam has returned to the castle- he is grown now. He is very nice." Belle stated, her happiness and the glow on her face confirming the fact to the woman.
"Our wedding is next month. And we will be happy to invite all of you, the whole village, if you wish," added Belle.
"Have a pleasant day, Madame. Monsieur," Belle nodded cheerily to the couple. She followed her father out the door. Andre and Marie looked at each other with their mouths agape.
"She really is a funny girl," Marie finally said. "But this is so exciting! Andre- do you realize what this might mean for our business? A royal wedding!" She happily went to a cupboard and pulled a book down with drawings of formal cakes and dainty banquet refreshments.
"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, Marie!" Andre said, a bit resentful. He took his tray of bread out of the bakery, grumpily. He had been right about that flighty, uppity girl. Poor Gaston, he thought as he placed the bread on the rolling cart. So she said the Beast is dead- that was one good thing. He wanted to tell the other men.
But then, he was unsure. That girl could still be under some kind of demonic influence. Maybe...when she looked at the Beast, she saw a handsome Prince instead? But he had seen the Prince himself! It was still too strange for him to fathom. And shouldn't that girl be more appreciative of Gaston? Why, he may have lost his life rescuing that prince! Andre and his friends had seen the two the other day, walking hand in hand, while poor Gaston lay in his grave for ever...
As customers came to buy bread from Andre the baker, they wondered why he seemed so quiet and lost in his thoughts that day.
Meanwhile, in the main street, Maurice took a few moments to water the horses, while Belle waited, self-consciously, in front of the bakery. She watched Philippe and Antoinette drink, and when she glanced to the side, her heart sunk. She did not care to deal with who was just walking down the street, approaching her directly.
"You're back?"
"How dare you show your face here!"
"Gaston is dead because of you! You always looked down on him, you little snob!"
The high-pitched voices and the red, yellow and green dresses were unmistakable. Belle felt a sinking in the pit of her stomach.
A.N. - Translations for the French magic spells- "Homme-Bête"- Man-Beast. "Lapin"- Rabbit. "Fracasser"- shatter. The name of Delphine's mountain village means "hideout for sorcerors." Hopefully the translator worked well. Sorry for the wait, this chapter and the next drove me nuts, trying to redo, add on and get the plot to keep going. Thanks Trudi for previewing. -Civilwarrose
