And here we are at Chapter Four!
Chip stood in front of the door, panting, hyperventilating, sweat dripping down his face as he shivered. His family reeled back, stunned. What had happened to him? What had he seen that could bring him to this state of shock? Chip's bundle slipped from his arms as he shook, falling to the ground with a soft thud, and Beauty had to hold Mary back to keep her from pouncing on the carnation pink silk ribbon that tumbled out. Terrified, Cinderella rushed up to her husband. Grabbing him by the shoulders, she shook him gently, desperately trying to bring him to composure.
"What, Dear? Tell us! What wants Beauty?!"
Chip continued to shake with only soft moans escaping from his lips. Terrified, Charlie ran to a cabinet in the back of the shop, threw the door open and grabbed a tin mug. Within seconds the lad had filled it with water from a barrel at the side of the kitchen, which he rushed up to his father and threw at him.
"Father!" He cried. "Speak to us! What has happened? What wants Beauty?"
"SAY SOMETHING!!!!" Cinderella shrieked. Mary, frightened out of her seven-year-old mind, retreated behind her sister, whimpering. Alfred made ready to rush outside in search of a neighbor who might be able to help Chip. Finally, sputtering and coughing, the Baker yelled out an answer.
"A b-b-beast!!! A horrible, m-monstrous beast!"
Cinderella dropped her husband in shock. Has my Chip gone mad, she wondered in her anxiety. He cannot be, she attempted to convince herself. Most likely he ran into some young man on his way home who expressed an interest in Beauty's hand in marriage. Probably that Raoul fellow. He's not the most desirable prospect for a son-in-law, is he? Not to mention poor Beauty despises him. Yes, that must be it.
"Now Chip, I know that Raoul's personality and manner may leave a few things to be desired, but that doesn't give you the right to call him a 'horrible, monstrous beast.'" Cinderella chided, her voice shaking. Chip shook his head wildly, the pupils in his eyes dilating with fear. His voice rose and fell several octaves as he attempted to explain.
"Cinderella, I don't mean Raoul. I mean a beast! A horrible, ugly, hideous beast with teeth that could bite through a man's bone and claws sharp enough to rip mortar to shreds! I came upon a castle on my way home and a beast was inside and there were roses in the garden and I took some and the beast caught me and he attacked me and he told me that if he were to spare my life in return he wanted…. Oh, Beauty, Beauty!" The Baker sobbed, rushing to his daughter and taking her in his arms. Chip pressed Beauty close to his chest, smothering her in his bone-crushing embrace, soaking her red hair with his tears. Beauty herself tried to return his embrace, but found her arms immobile. She shivered in wonder as her father continued to cry. Her eyes unblinking, her face completely motionless, she stood as if frozen, trapped in her confusion and fright. She tried to speak comfort to him, but no sound arose however she contracted her vocal cords. All Beauty could do was to watch, helpless, as her father succumbed to hysteria. Cinderella hurried to the cupboard to find another glass, which she filled with water before running to Beauty's rescue. Gently but firmly, she pried her husband off of his daughter, helped him to a chair, and handed the glass to him with an order to drink it. Chip obeyed and, panting, began to slowly regain his composure.
"Now, tell us what happened," Cinderella coaxed, rubbing his back. "From the beginning."
"All… all right." Chip spluttered. "I was driving through the woods, nearly home. The sky was going dark…"
Flashback!..........
The horse plodded along through the quickly darkening forest, dragging the now-empty old cart behind him. On top of the cart, Chip the Baker sat, his hands grasping the reigns tightly, humming a tune in his happiness. By tomorrow morning, if he made minimal stops along the way, he would be home first thing the next morning. He could hardly wait to pull up in front of his door, to walk inside, to see the smiling faces of his family. To be home to stay until next year's spring festival arrived. The festival had been exactly the success he had predicted it would be- no sooner had Chip arrived at the festival grounds and begun to set up his tables and lay out his wares, than he was overrun by a dozen townspeople, eager to sample his delicious breads, to devour his renowned sweets, to make off with as many buns and rolls as they could carry. This dozen led to many more, and soon there was a large crowd around Chip's wares, a crowd which reappeared every day for the festival's ten-day duration. As had happened every year since he began selling his baked goods at the Spring Festival, Chip left completely bought out, every crumb being sold to the hungry hands of the local peasants. Chip's pockets were heavy with every kind of coin the realm had to offer and he was filled with excitement over the impending fulfillment of his family's wishes. Whenever he could spare a moment from his business, therefore, he would browse around at the other tables on the green in search of gifts for his family. Over the ten days of the festival, his search had produced a beautiful pair of brown mules for Cinderella, lined with the softest wool he could afford; two manly hunting knives for the boys, with incredibly realistic woodland scenes carved into their oak handles; and a charming hair ribbon of carnation pink silk for Mary.
Thinking of this, however, Chip's face fell in disappointment. He had found gifts for every member of his family except for one: he had been unable to secure roses for Beauty. The florist at the festival had had even greater fortune than Chip- every rose in his inventory had been sold before the first day was out. Desperate, the Baker had looked at all of the other flowers that the man had to offer: butter-yellow daffodils, snow-white, delicate daisies; exotic tiger lilies; many different flowers of every conceivable shade and size. However, none of these had appeared good enough, in Chip's eyes, to compensate for Beauty's desired rose bouquet. When he had taken down his stand at the end of the festival, therefore, Chip had resolved to search for roses for Beauty on his way home. Maybe he would have better luck then. Perhaps he would find a merchant on his way who could sell him a bouquet equally as lovely as those that the florist had sold out of so quickly. However, his search had been fruitless. He had not run into a single florist on his journey. Chip felt like a failure. His beloved Joanna's daughter deserved only the best he could provide, and here he was empty-handed. What kind of a father am I? He wondered. When Beauty was born, Joanna and I promised ourselves that we would see that she was so happy. And now look at me! I can't even find her a decent bunch of flowers! This should really be easy after searching for those strange ingredients to conceive her in the first place. Chip knew in his heart that Beauty wouldn't care if he didn't find the roses, that she would be happy simply to see him safely at home. However, he was not about to allow himself to return home without a gift for her, seeing as he was able to find them for the rest of his family. No, Beauty deserved the best. And Chip wanted her to have it.
As the disappointed Baker continued to drive, a mist began to appear throughout the woods. An hour later, fog covered the woods like a cloud of flour being dumped into Chip's bread dough, obstructing his view of the path. As if blinded, Chip swerved the horse back and forth, unsure which direction he was going in. He had no way to tell if he was still on the road towards home or if he were headed back to the other kingdom. He had no idea what to do, where to travel, or even if he should just stop for a while. Fear began to creep up his spine as hours went by and he still could not tell where he was. At this point, Chip had forgotten the roses. All he wanted now was to get home to his family safely. Finally, after Chip had been driving his cart in circles for about five hours, he heard a clap of thunder. Beginning in a slow drizzle, the rain began to fall. Soon, it was coming down in torrents, drenching the Baker. He knew then that he would have to find shelter. For an hour, Chip spurred his horse on. Just when he was about to give up hope and try again to make a run for home, his horse refused to go further. Chip, confused, looked up and saw the reason for this happening immediately: the horse was standing in front of the tallest, widest stone structure Chip had ever seen. Its very masonry bespoke a majestic quality: the stones appeared to be pure granite, the mortar a composite of marble and spurned brass. Curious, he steered the horse around the building, looking for the entrance, hoping that maybe it was possible that he could take shelter within. Finally, after about half an hour, he found himself face-to-face with the tallest double-doors he had ever seen. At least three stories tall and carved of a deep brown, almost black wood with door handles of pure silver and a knocker of solid gold; these doors loomed over him, sending an intimidating message: ENTER IF YOU DARE. Shuddering, the Baker considered turning around and continuing on his way. As he was about to do this, however, another clap of thunder burst from the sky. The horse whinnied and reared, madness sparkling in its eyes. That decided it. Chip was going to have to seek shelter here. Looking around the corner of the castle, he spotted an open stable, in which he shut his horse for the night. Having finished this, the Baker dashed back to the doors and, shuddering, opened them.
"Hello?" He called. "Is anyone there?" He walked down the castle's dimly lit, marble hall looking in every direction to see who he was intruding upon. "The reason I'm here is, there is a storm brewing outside. I'm a traveler, you see, and I'm lost in the woods and in need of a place to stay, if it's not too much trouble…" There was no answer. "Hello?" Exasperated, Chip looked up to see a door open onto a dimly-lit parlor. "Thank you!" He called to no one in particular, warily stepping into the room. His feet immediately touched on a red mahogany floor. The Baker looked up, astounded. Everything in the room bespoke royalty and grandeur. A large, red Persian rug covered the floor. A granite fireplace, in which a roaring fire had been started, took up the entire back wall of the room. The right wall was comprised of a window partially masked by crimson velvet curtains. In the center of the room rested a large, mahogany table on which rested a stew, a glass of wine, and a loaf of bread The table was flanked on either side by red velvet chairs and a couch of the same color faced it. The legs on these seating elements, Chip noted with amazement, were gilded. What in the world? He laid his coat down on the sofa and strode over to the fireplace. Above it hung an expensive-looking portrait in a gold frame, out of which glared two figures, male and female. The man's grey eyes flashed fire at the peasant, his black hair and beard looked as if they had been burned there. His white suit, decorated with a red sash and silver medallions, bespoke not just royalty, but tyranny. The young woman pouted, looking like a child; this did not look well with her elegant purple ball gown and diamonds. Were these the people who had once lived here? Perhaps they lived here now, perhaps they were his hosts. Bewildered, the Baker made his way back to the sofa, ate and slept.
When the first rays of sunlight peeped into the parlor, its tenant was no longer there. The Baker had already awakened and released his horse. Holding the bridle tightly, he led the horse around the castle at a rapid pace. He had promised to be home that morning and there it was, morning, and he had not even departed yet. As he hurried toward his carriage, however, something caught Chip's eye. Why had he not noticed this before? This was the answer to his predicament! In a cluster in the middle of the courtyard stood a group of rose bushes, boasting flowers of every color imaginable. There were roses as red as rubies, as orange as sunsets, as white as milk. Roses of the same pink as strawberries and of the same sparkling gold as Cinderella's slippers abounded. There were even roses as transparent and luminous as diamonds. These roses undoubtedly put those of the florist at the festival to shame. Chip smiled. Here was his gift for Beauty! Falling to the bush like a madman, he whipped out one of the new hunting knives and began cutting some of the reddest blossoms. He was halted abruptly, however, when a soft rustling began to emanate from the bushes. Chip turned, wondering what made the sound. The rustling grew louder and louder and drew nearer and nearer until finally, a streak of grey leapt roaring from the bush the Baker was cutting his flowers from. He dropped his newest blossom as a soft, leathery object gripped him around the neck and lifted him off his feet, its sharp claws digging small gashes in his skin.
"Thief! Robber! How dare you steal from my rose bushes?"
Quivering, the Baker slowly lifted his eyes open and gasped at what he saw. His neck was being held by a grey, shaggy paw. This paw was attached to what appeared to be a wolf. Yet was it a wolf? Chip noted in horror that this was the most fearsome wolf he had ever laid eyes on. Standing taller than the Baker, the creature was covered in grey matted fur, caked with dirt and blood. It wore nothing but a pair of black silk trousers, which could hardly go by the name anymore, such was their tattered state. The large paws that served as its feet crushed the bundle of gifts that Chip had been stuffing the roses into, their knifelike claws etching scars in the ground. The neck of the creature was beset by a lion's mane of the same dingy grey as its fur, and razor-sharp ivory horns, resembling those of a bull protruded from its head. Small glints of rage glimmered in its grey eyes and as it snarled at the Baker, it bared teeth as menacing as the claws.
"Speak, Peasant! How did you come by the gall, the nerve to steal my roses, after I have allowed you to pass the night in my castle? First you disturb my solitude, and then you steal from me!" The Beast raged, drawing the frightened Chip closer to its jaws. "I demand one reason why I should not rip you to shreds this very moment!" The Beast loomed closer over him, its jaws wide open, ready to bite down on the Baker's shoulder. Shuddering, Chip found his voice.
"P-please, S-sir, I only intended to take a few roses, a-as a g-gift for my daughter!" The Beast's muscles relaxed for an instant, as it cocked its head to the side, as if to say your daughter? Still shaking, Chip continued. "Y-yes. I am a b-baker, you see. I have recently been s-selling my wares at a f-festival in the next kingdom. I p-promised to b-buy my daughter some roses with the m-money I earned. However, I had n-no luck securing any for her. You had b-been so g-good to me… and I figured you wouldn't m-miss a few blossoms! Please, have mercy! I am only b-being a loving father!"
The Beast loosened its grip on Chip, but continued to glare at him, anger radiating from its entire body. "So you've a daughter, have you? Very well then, Baker. I shall spare your sorry life." Chip sighed, relieved. The Beast growled menacingly and continued. "In exchange, you shall bring your daughter here, and you will leave her with me. Your daughter's life for yours."
Chip was instantly filled with new terror and agony at this statement. He would lose Beauty to this creature, most likely to be eaten, judging from the creature's behavior. Frantic, he protested. "No, please! Anything but that! Please do not punish my daughter for my error! She is young, she's barely a woman! She is pure and innocent. It isn't her fault that I stole your flowers! Please, Sir, whatever you do, please don't harm my precious daughter!"
The Beast, however, refused to be moved. "You will return here bearing your daughter, Peasant Rat." He grinned evilly. "If the girl is not on these grounds soon, I will come after you, and it WILL be your life. One way or another, your debt will be repaid. Now leave my land!" With that, he roughly dropped the Baker and pounced back into the bushes. Filled with a fear equaling only that which he had felt on sight of the giantess long ago, Chip gathered his bundle and leapt on his horse, spurring it on until he had reached the wagon. Once there he jumped off and hitched the horse to the cart, his hands shaking. Jumping on board, he began to drive blindly in his growing hysteria. How long he drove, he did not know. He thought only of getting home and of finding some way of protecting Beauty from the fate he had inadvertently brought on her. Finally, after night had fallen, the terrified Baker reached home.
Flashback ends…..
The kitchen was enveloped in silence. A heavy cloud of tension hovered over the family, and nobody could find a word to lift it. Chip shivered, still clutching his now-empty water glass. Cinderella crouched behind him, gently rubbing his back. Mary sat in the chair next to him, whimpering in fright, her face buried in her hands. Alfred leaned against the door, staring at his father, his eyes as big as coins. Charlie had his arm around Mary, in an attempt to comfort her, and he stared as hard as his brother. Only Beauty, who had been speechless since her father's arrival, finally spoke. She spoke two words, the exact two words Chip had hoped she would not say.
"I'll go."
The Baker gasped. "Beauty, you don't know what you're saying!"
"Yes," the girl argued, passion rising in her voice. "I do. I know exactly what I'm saying, Father. I will go to the beast in your place."
"No, Beauty, you will not! Didn't you listen to what I told you? If you go, you'll die!"
"And if I stay, you will!"
"That's enough!" Cinderella interrupted. "Charlie, please take Alfred and Mary and go to bed." Her son began to protest. "Now, Charlie. This is between your father, Beauty and I." Sulking, the lad motioned to his siblings, who followed him through the door to their parents' room. Concern radiating from her face, Cinderella sat down beside Beauty. "Beauty, sweetheart, I know you only have your father's best interest at heart, but you don't have to sacrifice your own life."
"Yes, I do. Those roses were meant to be for me, Stepmother. It's entirely my fault that the beast wants Father. It's only just that I go in his stead."
"You can't!" the Baker exclaimed.
"I must, Father!"
"I won't let you throw your life away, Beauty!"
"But you won't save yours? Think of your family, Father! Think of your wife, my stepmother. Think of Charlie, of Alfred, of Mary! They need you here. You have a responsibility to them. I have no spouse. I have no children. Therefore, am able to sacrifice myself for you, because I have a responsibility towards you. I love you, Father! I don't want to see you be killed! Please, let me prevent it!" Beauty was by now on her knees, imploring him.
"Beauty," Chip, in hysterics, attempted desperately to sway her. "You have forgotten my responsibility towards you! You are my beloved daughter. I fought giants for you. I broke a curse for you. I've already lost your mother, Beauty! "
"Then please, let me return the favor! Let me face the beast in your stead! You need to value your own life, Father, and I cannot believe you do not put enough import on it to allow me to preserve it!"
Cinderella, sensing an argument coming on, wisely intervened. "It's late. It's very late, and we've all been through an emotionally trying time. Why don't we all go to bed, and in the morning we can discuss this rationally and try to find an alternative?" Without a word, they separated and went to bed. What alternative is there, Beauty thought as she made her way out of the room towards her own. There is none.
An hour or two had turtled by, and Beauty was still awake. Lying on her back in the pitch dark, she twisted the blanket around herself, trying to make herself comfortable that she might slip away into unconsciousness. Try as she might, however, she could not coax her mind into relaxation. Every time she shut her eyes, a vision appeared of the beast tearing its way through the walls of her house as if they were paper. Throwing various objects aside in his search for her father. Finding the Baker cowering under the counter of the shop, or in the storage closet, or under a bed. Messily, bloodily devouring him as Beauty looked on, powerless to stop the creature. She heard its bloodchilling roar in the back of her mind, and she shivered, goosebumps gathering all over her body. And I cannot do anything about this because Father will not put enough value on his own life to allow me to save him. Beauty sighed. It was horrible enough that she had lost her mother. At the very least she had never been able to really know her. True, she missed Joanna, but she had never really known who the woman was. No matter how many stories Chip had told his daughter about her real mother, Beauty had never been able to understand Joanna's personality as she would have had the giant never come. Yet to lose her father, the loving, devoted figure who had always been there to lend her a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on, the man who had protected her from harm all of her life, that would be absolutely devastating. Somehow, she thought, I've got to make him see that this is the only way. That only by sacrificing me to the creature will he be able to live.
A light kick to the shin interrupted Beauty's musings. She smiled and turned over to look at her sister, who was fast asleep. Mary was so sweet. She deserved the same upbringing that Beauty had experienced: two parents who put their children's safety and happiness before everything else in this world. And if Beauty could have her way, Mary would have more than she had. Mary deserved to have both of her birth parents alive to see her grow up. She deserved to have Chip in her life. Beauty would rather have died than see her siblings grow up without their father. Rolling over onto her back again, Beauty stared at the ceiling, reminiscing on all the wonderful times she had shared with her father as a little girl: Chip teaching her how to bake all kinds of breads and sweets when she helped him at work, visiting Jack and Red every once in a while, Chip telling her the story of how he and her late mother had ventured into the woods to break the spell that kept them from having children. Her younger siblings deserved to have all of that. It was then that Beauty knew what she had to do. I am going to go to that castle and offer myself to the beast. If Father won't take me to it, I'll have to run away and find it for myself!
Quickly and stealthily, so as not to wake her sister, Beauty leapt out of bed, bunching up the blankets on her side into a large lump. If Little Mary were to awaken in the night after Beauty had left, she would see the mound of covers next to her and think it was her sister, fast asleep. Therefore, in theory the little girl would fall right back asleep, instead of rushing into the next room to alert their parents; and would not notice a thing until morning. Having undertaken this precaution, Beauty silently stumbled to the wardrobe; not allowing herself to light a candle for fear that the prick of light would wake Mary. Instead, she strained her eyes in the darkness, relying on the small portion of moonlight that peeped through her window to guide her way. Finally, she tripped- and caught herself against something hard. The wardrobe! Slowly, carefully, she eased it open. A quick scan found her everyday dress and boots, her necklace hanging beside the dress. Fast as lightning, Beauty yanked her flannel nightgown over her head and off, replacing it with the dress. With slipping fingers, she hastily fastened the sash and the necklace. Softly sitting on the bed, she tied the boots on and, grabbing a hairbrush from the end table, gave her hair a few rushed strokes. She then carefully placed the brush back on the table, hung up the nightgown and shut the wardrobe doors in a way that it would look as if they had never been moved at all. Ready to begin packing for her journey, Beauty made her way over to her sleeping sister. Tears filled her eyes as she kissed her goodbye one last time.
"Goodbye, Mary." She whispered. "You are the only daughter, now. I want you to keep a close watch on Charlie and Alfred for me, you understand? You know how boys are. They're not as wise as us ladies. See that they stay out of mischief." With that, she tiptoed out of the room and shut the door. Beauty then opened the door to the right of hers to a room jetting out of the cottage. This room was originally built for Jack after the giantess attack. Now, it was occupied by Charlie and Alfred, who were snoring away in their bed. Beauty smiled at her brothers, her tears starting to spill.
"Goodbye, Boys. You may have been the most annoying younger brothers in the kingdom, but still, I would have battled wolves, witches, or giants for you any day. Be brave, Charlie. You are the oldest now. I want you to help everyone to support Father. When my mother died, so yours would have it, Father succumbed to grief which he still has not overcome. When I'm gone, I fear he's going to need all the help you can offer simply to keep from going mad. Alfred, I want you to be nicer to Mary. Don't snap at her so much, all right? She's only seven." She closed the door and tiptoed past her room, opening a door on her left. This was the door to her parents' room, the room she would have to cross through to get to the shop and out of the house. Carefully, Beauty opened and closed the door. You could have heard a pin drop as she tiptoed across the room. Opening the door to the shop, she turned back.
"Stepmother, I'm sure from what you've told me about your own stepmother that you must have worried that you would do the job just as horribly. To simply say you did not would be an injustice. If I cannot have my real mother, there is nobody on Earth whom I would rather have had to assume her duties than you, Cinderella. I love you every bit as much as if I had been born to you, and if you cannot see that then I have failed as a stepdaughter. Father…" Here, Beauty began to choke. "Father, I… I hope you know that I only do this because… I love you. I appreciate your breaking a curse… and fighting a giant for me… and I… I wish you happiness and love for the rest of your life… Goodbye!" Tears streaming down her face, Beauty closed the door and entered the shop.
Upon entering the kitchen, Beauty wiped her eyes with her wrist, trying to dry them. Stop your crying, Beauty! This is no time to be emotional. She began to calm down. There would be plenty of time to think about the fact that she would never see her family again, and the fact that she was going to die for that matter, while she was in the woods making her way towards the castle. Now, she had to focus. She had to get herself packed to leave and out of the house as quickly as possible. Supposing one of her parents woke up while she was still in the kitchen! Her quest would be stopped before it began. Beauty could not let that happen. Without making a sound, she strode over to the pegs hanging by the front door and grabbed her father's hunting jacket. As she put on the jacket and reached for the Baker's satchel, a glimmer of light caught her eye. Her father's hunting knife! Without thinking twice, Beauty yanked the weapon off its peg and tied it to her waist. Maybe she didn't have to die! Maybe, just maybe if she armed herself, she might have the slightest chance of survival. Maybe she would be able to come home with the beast slain and her father saved! Maybe this is the adventure I've dreamed of!, she thought excitedly as her anxiety dissipated into giddy excitement. She silently bustled around the shop, trying to figure out what she would need. Food would be essential- Beauty knew it would be a long walk to the beast's castle and that she would surely become hungry at some point on her journey. In the dim moonlight, she found a small loaf of rye bread still on the counter. Stuffing this into the satchel, she grabbed a canteen from the cabinet and filled it at the barrel, glancing up at the clock on the wall as she did so. Midnight. Beauty had to suppress a laugh at the irony. Here she was going on a life-altering (life-ending, to be more precise) journey and it was MIDNIGHT! This was the same time, so she had been told, that her parents' curse had been lifted and that the Witch had abandoned Cinderella, Jack, Red, Chip, and the infant Beauty to find a way to rid the kingdom of the giantess on their own. That thought in her mind, Beauty racked her brain, the irony adding to the giddiness of her mood. I feel as if I've forgotten something. Now what is it I've forgotten? As if thrown into her mind by her thoughts of the past, an idea came to her. That's it! Beans! I need beans! On tiptoe, she rushed to the storage closet and, almost forgetting to open it quietly, she leapt in and began throwing large handfuls of beans into the satchel. That's right, now I remember. When Father left on his quest to find the ingredients for the Witch's potion, he brought six beans with him, which helped him to secure the cow as white as milk. I can't believe I almost ventured into the woods without- She paused. What she was doing did not appear to be logical. She gazed down into the satchel, now half filled with beans, as her face flushed to the color of the roses she had received. Sighing and inwardly reproaching herself for her stupidity, Beauty dumped the beans back into the sack and shut the closet door. What help were plain, ordinary beans going to be on her journey? She could have been caught! Rationalized, Beauty walked resolutely to the counter. Opening a drawer behind it, she produced a charcoal pencil and a slip of paper, with which she penned a note to her family. Finally, Beauty slowly walked up to the door. Taking her mother's shawl from its peg, she wrapped it around her head and gazed up towards the ceiling.
"Mother, I hope that I'm doing the right thing. I feel as if this is what you would have done in my situation, however. Watch over me, Mother. Guide my steps as I endeavor to right this wrong. Show me the way. I fear, though, that I will be with you by this time tomorrow. I don't want to die, Mother, but I am willing to do so if it means that Father will live." Shivering, Beauty left her house for what she assumed to be the last time. As she began her mournful trudge across her yard and into the woods, she softly sang, hoping that her song would give her the strength she would need to complete her journey and to offer herself to the beast without fear.
"Into the woods, it's time to go. I hate to leave. I have to, though. Into the woods, it's time and so I must begin my journey. Into the woods and through the trees to where I am expected, see. Into the woods to save my father! Into the woods to save my father!"
Beauty stopped at the edge of the woods, fear tingling up and down her spine. For a fleeting moment, she considered running back home and obeying her father by doing nothing. But no. No! If she just stood aside and took no action to save him, Chip would be eaten. Taking a deep breath, she pressed onward, plunging into the seemingly endless mass of trees.
"The way is dark. The light is dim. But going means I've rescued him. The chances look small. The choices look grim. "She sighed, steeling herself. "No need to be afraid there. Try not to be delayed there. Into the woods and down the dell. The path is straight. I know it well. Into the woods, and who can tell what's waiting on the journey. Into the woods full speed ahead while my family lies in bed. Never can tell what lies ahead. By this time tomorrow, I'll likely be dead. But into the woods! Into the woods! Into the woods to save my father and-hopefully-back!"
Two hours later, Beauty was now well along the path. Her nerves had begun to settle with time, and now she was as calm as if she were only walking through her house. Her confidence had also bloomed since she left the house; two hours had gone and so far she had not been apprehended. This luck gave Beauty the feeling that she needn't worry about anyone stopping her now. At the rate she was going, even if her parents were to awaken right now and through some process of deduction realize that she was gone they would never be able to catch up with her. Beauty would be able to save her father. She had known that running away to find the beast's castle was the right decision; although the odds were that she was giving up her life, at least Chip would live. Her siblings would have their father. And, when viewed from a positive angle, this situation gave Beauty the opportunity she'd longed for for years. She was finally in the woods on her own! Adventure was finally hers! Beauty twirled happily as she strolled down the path. This was easy! Luckily, she'd not run into any wolves, or bears, or any of the other threatening creatures the woods had to offer. She hadn't even run into any other travelers! She was truly alone with the woods. If I live through this, wait until Chandler hears about it! Removing her canteen from the satchel and taking a sip, Beauty surveyed the path. She had begun to work out her course when she started walking: she would follow the path until she found the area where her father had veered onto it, and then she would follow the tracks made by the cart's wheels to the castle. So far, however, it appeared that she had a long way to go before she reached the fork in her road.
"Into the woods to find the beast who on my father wants to feast. Into the woods to- oof!"
Something caught Beauty's foot as she walked. To her vast surprise, she tripped and fell, landing on top of something very soft. A voice grumbled from under her body.
"Hey, watch where you're… oh. It's you again. Beauty, isn't it? Why is it both times I have run into you, you've ended up on top of me?"
That voice! Beauty recognized it in an instant. Puss in Boots! Quickly, she shifted herself off of the cat.
"Hello, Puss in Boots. I'm very sorry for falling on top of you again. I hope I didn't hurt you."
The cat jumped up and brushed herself with her paws, sheathing her dagger. "No, you didn't hurt me. However, you did cause me to lose my midnight snack." Catalin gestured towards a nearby tree into which her intended victim- one very unfortunate squirrel- was climbing. "Anyway, what brings you into the wood? I find it hard to believe that your family is out gathering firewood at this time of night."
Beauty's eyes sparkled with excitement. Surely her situation would impress the cat. "Actually… I ran away from home!" she blurted out.
Catalin laughed sarcastically. "Ha ha ha. Sure you did. Come now, Beauty, do tell me what you are really doing here. No, wait- I think I can guess. Your family actually was gathering firewood earlier today and you wanted to get away from them again. But this time you wanted to STAY away. So you ran even farther than before and in order to be able to find your way back later, you left a trail of breadcrumbs. Unfortunately, you've discovered that your bread crumb trail has been eaten by birds. You should have used shiny stones. Or catnip." She sighed. "Come. I'll help you find your way home before a wolf finds you first." She began to walk, her sharp eyes scanning the forest, motioning for Beauty to follow. The peasant girl shook her head.
"No, Puss in Boots, I actually ran away from home!" She sat down on the path, motioning for the cat to do the same. Snickering, Catalin complied, ready to hear whatever silly reason the girl had to run off, where she expected to go, and through what cockamamie scheme she expected to get there. The cat expected to be in for a laugh, considering the peasant's naïveté. However, as Beauty began to describe how her father had come home from his journey saying that he had met a beast, Catalin began to believe her, much to her surprise. After all, one never could tell what one might meet in the woods. It was slightly plausible that a person could come upon a castle inhabited by a beast. As Beauty went on to describe the rooms in the castle and the rose garden and the beast's appearance, Catalin found herself giving complete credence to her tale. It sounded like Little Peasant Girl was finally getting her big adventure. Wasn't she the lucky one? Catalin had searched throughout the kingdom for the past two weeks and had found no opportunities to prove herself. The sailors at the tavern had not wanted her aboard ship even as ship's mouser. Neither of the Princes had wanted to hire her as a knight; in fact, they'd laughed at her the moment she offered her services. In short, she'd had no luck. But now, maybe, this could be her opportunity. Catalin doubted if the girl had gained any experience in the past two weeks. She would need protection. An escort. A bodyguard. Catalin could provide all three.
"Interesting story," she began, unsure how to ask if Beauty needed any help on her journey. "But it's an awfully large challenge for one girl to take on her own. Let me put it to you simply: surely you do not want to perish. Surely you want to return home, am I right?" Beauty nodded. Catalin went on. "Are you, by any chance, armed?" In response, Beauty gestured to the knife at her waist. "A hunting knife. Excellent weapon. You may have more knowledge about this sort of thing than I've given you credit for. Have you ever used a knife- for something besides eating or slicing bread, I mean?" Blushing, the human shook her head. "Ah. Well, Beauty, it seems as if you're going to need a bit of assistance. Therefore, I would like to volunteer to escort you to the castle and to aid you on your quest." Smiling, Beauty agreed. Drowning in her happiness to make herself useful, Catalin leapt in front of her human charge, dagger out in case of ambush. After an hour, her sharp cat's eyes found the area where Chip had veered. The duo followed his tracks, and by sunrise, they had reached an area filled with brush, tall grass, and brambles. The bushes looked as if they had been parted by a speeding carriage. This was the brush Chip had mentioned! The journey was almost complete.
Meanwhile, at the Baker's cottage, the family had just woken up. They were now beginning to prepare for the day's work: Chip was piling twigs and branches of every shape and size into the fireplace, ready to light the oven and begin baking; Cinderella and Mary were on their knees in the storage closet, scooping the many different kinds of flour out of their sacks and into buckets for easy access, and Charlie and Alfred were making their way back around the cottage from the well, heavy, dripping buckets of water yoked to their shoulders. They worked diligently, but slight irritation penetrated their minds. Beauty was still asleep, or so they thought, and it would be time to open the shop in an hour. They needed her help to get the dough ready for baking. At the rate they were going, they wouldn't have a single roll baked when the customers began to arrive!
"Chip," Cinderella called from inside the closet, "Has Beauty come in yet?"
"No, she hasn't," her husband replied, exasperation creeping into his voice. This wasn't like Beauty at all. Usually she was awake with the sun, ready to begin baking and helping to run the shop. She had never been one to oversleep before. "I'll go wake her, Dear. I won't be a minute." With that, Chip trudged through the shop and his bedroom to Beauty's room. Firmly, he knocked on the door,
"Beauty? Beauty, are you awake?" There was no answer. The Baker knocked again. "Come along, Beauty. It's almost time to open the shop." Not a sound. "Beauty, I know you're angry. I know you're upset. I know that you think I'm a fool for not trying to save my own life. But that does not mean that you should have to sacrifice yours, Beauty. I promise, I'll find a solution to this that will protect the both of us. Now will you please come out?" Dead silence. Sighing, Chip opened the door and walked inside. His daughter was still in bed, curled up under the covers, asleep. Chip bent to shake her just as a cry came from the kitchen.
"Chip, it's gone! Your hunting jacket's gone! So is your satchel… and your knife! Someone's stolen them… and, oh, Chip…" Cinderella's voice began to crack. "Joanna's shawl… it's not on its peg!"
No, Chip thought. The only member of the family who ever wore Joanna's purple shawl was… frantic, he yanked off the blanket to reveal a bunched-up pile of sheets. Beauty was gone! "Cinderella!" The Baker dashed back into the shop, where Cinderella stood in front of the counter holding a slip of paper, her children frantically surrounding her.
"Beauty's run away." Cinderella sobbed. "She… she left a note." Choking, wetting the paper with her tears, Cinderella began to read. "Dear Father and Stepmother, by the time you read this… my life will likely be at its end. I will have offered myself to the beast, and will have been devoured…I am sorry, Father. It was the only way to ensure that you will live… It is my fault, anyway. If I hadn't asked for those silly roses in the first place, we wouldn't be in this predicament… Please, do not weep for me. You have other children, after all, and perhaps you could even have another daughter to take my place. With luck, you will forget all about me…Lastly, please forgive the choice I have made. I have already lost my mother. Please don't make me lose my father too… Goodbye… Beauty!"
Chip stood stock-still, shocked and outraged out of his mind. "'Forget all about me,' she says! Oh yes, I'm just going to forget the child that I fought giants for, that I went through all sorts of curses and reverses for, that I went into the woods hunting for a cow as white as milk, a cape as red as blood, hair as yellow as corn and a slipper as pure as gold to come by! We can't let her do this, Cinderella! "
"We must go after her!" His wife announced, opening the door. "Beauty's going to get herself killed! Charlie, I want you to stay here and watch your siblings."
"But I wish to help!" Her son argued.
"This is no time to disobey your mother, Charles Junior!" Chip snapped, running outside after his wife. "You are to stay and ensure that Alfred and Mary don't cause a baking accident while we're gone." Hyperventilating in their worry, Chip and Cinderella dashed into the woods, hoping against hope that they were not too late.
Swish! Crunch! Catalin swung her dagger through the tall, dry, prickly brush as she and Beauty trudged into the distance. They had been walking for hours and could find no easy path through the apparent metropolis of deserted houses buried in the grasses and shrubs that would lead them to the beast's castle. They had lost track of the indents from the wheels of the Baker's cart virtually as soon as they began hacking through the brush and were now hopelessly lost. Their one intent now was to hack a quick path through the bushes to get to the monster's abode. Both were tired and thirsty- the canteen had been emptied and the bread demolished long ago- and a new cause of anxiety had appeared to Beauty. It was now ten o'clock in the morning, as Catalin had deduced through a glance at the sun. Beauty's family usually awoke with the sun in order to open the bakery. Surely they would have noticed that she was gone by now! Beauty sighed as she realized that Chip would have pursued her the moment he saw that she was gone, as he had that day in the woods. And she was not even at the castle yet, as she had planned to be. Supposing she was caught now, so close and yet so far. As Catalin chopped the branches, she worried, little knowing that Chip and Cinderella were now racing through the woods on her trail, calling her name, and had just found Chip's tracks. Her anxiety continued as the hours crawled by and they progressed from deserted cottages to deserted townhouses and finally deserted manors on their way, little knowing that the Baker and his wife had found their trail and were now following it, searching every house on the way for their missing daughter and stepdaughter. Finally, Beauty and Catalin found themselves at the castle's gate. Trying to maintain a spirit of bravery, they climbed over the side and jumped into the courtyard. Straightening up, Beauty stared at the castle.
"Well, here we are." Catalin remarked. "This is your castle." Beauty nodded.
"Yes." She took a deep breath, drawing her shawl closer about her head. "Here goes." Tentatively, she took her first slow steps across the courtyard to the castle, staring at its ominous doors with Catalin at her side.
"This is the castle!" Chip called to his wife as she raced behind him, both of their eyes scanning the area for their daughter and stepdaughter. Cinderella reached him and they stood at the gate, straining their eyes for a glimpse of a brown dress or of red hair, pits forming in their stomachs at the possibility that Beauty might already be in the stomach of the beast. Finally, they saw her, walking purposefully towards the looming wooden doors of the castle. She walked slowly, as if hypnotized, completely oblivious to the fact that she had been caught. Terrified, Chip and Cinderella leapt at the gate and began struggling to climb over it, the pits in their stomachs growing as Beauty moved closer to the door. Finally, they made it over the side and jumped, landing in the courtyard. The thud of their bodies hitting the hard ground was heard by neither Catalin who, dagger drawn, was standing in front of Beauty, ready to defend her if necessary; nor Beauty, who to her parents' shock had mechanically grasped the door handle.
"BEAUTY!!!! NO!!!" The Baker and his wife screamed, unheard by their daughter and stepdaughter, who opened the door and without a word, disappeared inside. Frantic, they rushed across the courtyard to the door. Cinderella grabbed the handle and pulled with all her might. Unfortunately, the door had now been mysteriously locked.
"Beauty!" She screamed as she hammered on the door and Chip climbed up to a nearby window, a window so caked with grime that he could not see inside. "Beauty, come back! You don't know what you're doing! Open the door!"
"Beauty, listen to me!" Chip begged. "You are young! I am growing old, I've lived my life! Why throw yours away? You have so much to live for, Beauty!" Their screaming was cut short by a loud, ear-shattering roar coming from inside the castle. Startled, Chip leapt from the window. Immediately following this was a high-pitched, terrified shriek. The beast was upon her! An unbearable clatter arose from the castle as a bloody slab hit the very window Chip had been gazing into. Then…silence, followed by the sound of bones crunching. Beauty's bones. Beauty was dead. Gasping, Cinderella helped her shaking husband to his feet. Breathless, Chip managed to stammer out one sentence in his disbelief.
"We were too late." Heartbroken, the Baker and his second wife began their journey home. They would have tell their three remaining children that they had lost their sister. They would also have to arrange a funeral for their poor, departed Beauty.
"Beauty!" Catalin screamed inside the castle's marble halls, "Why did you shriek like that? God that shock alone probably took a life off of my allotment!"
Beauty, who was in fact very much alive, gasped her hand on her chest. "I'm sorry. I'm only jumpy, is all. Wouldn't you be, if you knew that your chances of surviving the day were very low, that any second the beast that made that horrible roar may suddenly appear to swallow you for lunch?" Beauty shuddered. "This is it, Puss in Boots. This is the moment of truth. There's no turning back now. It's time to make the trade: my life for my father's." She gazed down the hall and noticed an open door, a soft light coming from inside. She recognized it immediately as the parlor her father had described. "I suppose I'm expected in there," Beauty murmured. Their feet and paws softly treading the marble floors, they entered the room. Beauty listened to the sounds around her as she sat in a red velvet armchair, Catalin curled up on the rug next to her. She heard a gruff male voice yell, "For a paragon of grace, as you call yourself, you are so clumsy! First you trip and upset the dishes, and then when you try to butcher the Beast's kill, you end up sending a piece into the window!" Another male voice with an accent Beauty had never heard before responded with "Vell, I'm soorry, but een ze pahst I nefver uzed ahn axe! Besides, vhat's ze use, I zay. Ze Beast cahn zeemply, ow you say, reep eet apahrt vith hees monstrows jahws. He dooes not-a need bootchers vhen he cahn do ze johb pearfectly by heemself!" So that's how I'm going to die, Beauty thought nervously, I'm going to be ripped to shreds by the Beast's jaws. She shivered in her chair, anticipating the entrance of her executioner.
One could just barely see the sun setting through the castle's grimy window when a series of loud footfalls, resonating like thunder claps, began their descent down the hall towards the room where Beauty waited. Click! Click! Sharp objects clattered against the floor, louder and louder as the mysterious being drew nearer and nearer. Beauty tensed. The hour of judgment had finally come for her. I'll be seeing you soon, Mother! Catalin leapt up, arching her back in order to look threatening, unsheathing her razor-sharp claws and brandishing her dagger.
"Get behind me, Beauty. And brace yourself! It's rare that one is up against a force this great."
Beauty obeyed, yanking the knife from its strap at her waist as a dark figure burst into the room. Quick as lightning, Catalin pounced on it, sinking her claws into its massive form.
"Meeeeeow!!!!" The cat screeched, scratching and biting the mysterious entity that threatened them, slashing at it with her dagger. "Now I've got you! Pray for mercy from PUSS IN BOOTS!!!!" Swish! The dagger rose into the air purposefully, swooped downward and, with a sickening thud, became entangled in something solid. The creature roared and bucked, tossing Catalin off of its back as if she were a doll. The cat flew across the room, picking up speed at an alarming rate until finally, she crashed into the wall. Almost as soon as she landed on the floor she was back on her feet and rushing towards Beauty. However, the figure was faster; growling, it forced Beauty up against the wall, using its body as a barricade to prevent Catalin from protecting its intended prey. Perspiring with fear, the girl shakingly pointed the hunting knife at the advancing body.
"Get back!" She screeched. "Back! Or I'll slice you into a thousand bits!"
This produced a burst of cold, sinister laughter from the figure, who reached out a shaggy, matted grey paw and swatted the weapon out of her hand and beyond her reach, slicing through her wrist with its dirty, black claws as sharp as lances. As the figure loomed over Beauty, she began to discern its features in the dim light and to realize with horror that the Beast was even more terrifying than the Baker had described him to be. The horns on his head were pointed straight at her, scratched slightly from Catalin's blade. He grinned evilly out of his long snout, his many knifelike teeth dripping saliva onto the floor. Terrified, the girl thought wildly of trying to make a run for it, until the image of her father in her position, cowering at the mercy of the Beast shot into her head. Adrenaline rushed through Beauty's veins as she found herself standing straighter, more confidently.
"You wish to devour me?" She heard herself shout. "Well go on then! Here I stand!" The Beast continued to loom over her, not moving a muscle. "I am not afraid of you!" Beauty was stunned at the outrageous taunts and proclamations that were forcing their way out of her lips. Catalin sensed danger. She tried to leap over the Beast's tail, but was sent flying back into the wall. "Eat me, if you dare!" Beauty screeched. The Beast emitted another cold, sinister laugh that sent shivers down her spine.
"I do not plan to eat you…yet." He snarled. Beauty inhaled sharply. She had a chance? Or did she? What was happening? The Beast loomed closer over her head, breathing his foul breath into her face. "Who are you, wench? State your business here."
"I am here for my father." Beauty struggled to maintain her defiant tone as Catalin attempted once more to intervene and was circumvented again. "In exchange for a bouquet of roses, you ordered him to send me here or die. Those roses were intended to be my gift. I am here now to pay for them. I come of my own will, so do what you may. I have no fear."
"You do have a name, I presume?" The Beast growled.
"Beauty."
The Beast nodded, still baring his teeth at the girl. "Very well, Beauty. In that case, your fate is not to be my meal." Beauty reeled back, stunned. She was not going to be eaten! She was going to live! Her head spun with dizzy relief. But what, then, was she wanted for? Before she could ask, the Beast went on. "You are, instead, to be my prisoner. For the rest of your days you will live here, in this castle. In my generosity I will allow you to wander where you will about the grounds, and my servants shall tend to you. However, you are never to leave. If you so much as attempt to escape, I will come after you; and if that happens, not only will your father be killed, but so will your entire family, and you yourself will be lucky simply to survive the confrontation. As for your cat-"
"I will not leave her with the likes of you!" Catalin howled from behind him. Although she had not known the peasant girl for long, she felt a responsibility for her due to having volunteered to be her escort. What kind of heroine was she if she left her charge at the hands of a potentially lethal captor without any form of possible defense?
The Beast snarled. "Well, then, Cat. You have chosen your fate. You shall remain my prisoner as well. And if you attempt escape, or if the wench does, you shall become my repast. There you have it, Beauty. Your life for your father's. By your presence, I assume we are agreed." He backed away, letting Beauty edge out of the corner. Catalin rushed up to her and blocked her protectively, her back arched in anger.
"You may win this round, Beast." She snapped, hissing as she spoke. "But if you ever- EVER- threaten the human while I am around, it is YOU who the confrontation will not fare well with!"
The Beast snickered, amused by the threats of this small cat. He barked into the distance. "Melinda! Show the girl to her room!"
A shuffling noise was heard coming around the corner of the door. Beauty and Catalin craned their necks, confused, as a small feather duster with a golden handle and grey feathers came around the door. The feather duster seemed to gaze up at the Beast as, to the girl and cat's shock, it spoke.
"Yes, Your Highness." Melinda turned to the bewildered prisoners. "Come this way, please." Catalin pushed Beauty ahead after the duster, gave one last threatening hiss to the Beast, and followed, sheathing her dagger. Shuffling eerily down the hall, Melinda led them into a tower, in which a long staircase awaited them. The three entered the quickly darkening tower and began their long ascent.
After what seemed to Beauty to be an eternity of climbing stairs, the feather duster finally halted in front of a large, forbidding door made of purest ebony and featuring sparkling silver hinges and doorknob, as well as an ornament shaped like the head of a wolf. The silver wolf's threatening jaws stretched wide open, revealing a score of menacing teeth that looked as if they could bite right through Beauty's hand if she put it too close. The light of the flames in their sconces glistened eerily on the door's silver, sending shivers down her spine. She instinctively edged closer to Catalin, who bristled the fur on her back in annoyance. Beauty's mind was filled with terror that she was expected to open that door. However, the door swung creakingly open, as if of its own accord. Melinda turned to face the shivering girl and her agitated feline companion.
"Follow me, please. Your room is not much farther."
The feather duster began her eerie shuffling motion again, moving rapidly down a dark hallway, dimly lit by torches in golden sconces. Beauty stood stock-still, frozen by the turbulence of the many emotions that had been running through her head since she made up her mind to leave home. Catalin glanced up at her and scoffed, as if to say "Are you going or aren't you?" Bewildered, Beauty pressed on, Catalin in tow, down a gallery lined completely by elaborate tapestries that looked as if they had cost a fortune. The manifold colors of the tapestries were muted in the dim light, but she could clearly see the scornful figures they depicted and felt as if she were the cause of their discomfort. Embroidered maidens at cross-stitched spinning wheels glared at her, thread huntsmen brandished their weapons as their dogs growled; lords and ladies waltzing in their satin-stitched ballrooms glowered at the Baker's daughter. Why have you come here, they seemed to ask. How dare you disturb our solitude, impertinent peasant? Humbled, Beauty lowered her eyes to the floor which, as the trio moved into a better lit area, could be seen to be made of shining, glittering gold. What is this place, Beauty wondered as she followed Melinda down the aisle. The glare from the gold hurt her eyes, and she thought nostalgically of the bare boards which floored the Baker's cottage. Finally, Melinda stopped in front of a snow-white door with gold designs painted into it.
"This, Miss Beauty, shall be your room." The girl hesitated to open it, fearing that the door handle might burn her if she dared to touch it. Melinda tapped her ankle with a feather. "Well, go on, open the door!" Her fingers slipping, Beauty quickly grasped the handle and pulled the door open, stepping inside. Immediately her feet left a floor of gold for a floor of dazzling silver. Beauty looked up to find herself in the largest bedroom she had ever seen; at least half of her cottage could have fit into the immense space. She also noted with amazement that everything inside the room contained something of some shade of purple. The gigantic ivory bed in which, as Beauty estimated, her entire family could have slept; was crowned by a canopy of majestic violet satin. The downy, luxurious-looking comforter was made of cashmere of the same shade, and the silk and satin bedsheets were the color of lilacs. A chandelier hanging over the center of the room was made entirely of translucent purple diamonds. An elegant lavender velvet divan rested by the silver silk-hung wall on the far right of the room. An exotic Turkish carpet, boasting at least twenty purple hues, lay at the center of the room. A beautiful blue armoire stood near the upper left corner, purple silk peeping through its doors, matching their dazzling gemstone knobs. A vanity rested beside it, on which rested a purple jewelry box and a silver, purple gem-encrusted hairbrush. Even the fireplace at the back wall, in which a roaring fire blazed, had purple flecks in its masonry. Beauty, bewildered, hung her shawl and hunting jacket on a platinum rack next to the door. As she wandered, breathing heavily, into the room, a warm voice loudly greeted her.
"Well, and you must be the daughter!" Beauty jumped in surprise as Catalin brandished her dagger. The voice laughed. "Welcome, my Dear."
Beauty turned her eyes in the direction of the voice, wondering who had addressed her. She reproached herself for thinking this, but the voice appeared to have come from the armoire.
"Puss in Boots… did the armoire…?"
The cat nodded in amazement, rubbing her eyes with her paws as a metallic voice arose from the vanity.
"Well, I must say I did not expect to see YOU here so soon! It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss-"
"Miss Beauty," Melinda interrupted, "I would like to introduce your handmaidens: Vivienne," she gestured towards the armoire with a feather, "and Jaqueline." As she said this, Melinda pointed another feather at the vanity as the hairbrush raised itself.
"P-pleased to m-meet y-you." Beauty stammered, backing towards the bed. What was happening? Household objects were inanimate, she knew that. They were not meant to speak, or to move, but to remain silent and stationary, existing only for human use. Yet now three supposedly inanimate amenities had addressed her! Beauty had longed for adventure, but this was a bit more than she'd bargained for. A high- pitched, irritating creaking arose from the floor as the armoire dragged itself in her direction, closely followed by the repeated scratches of the brush's bristles on the floor. The armoire opened itself as the brush jumped inside it.
"Well, Miss Beauty," Vivienne stated, "what a perfect name for you, by the way. Shall we begin?"
"Begin what?"
"Why, assisting you, of course! I will be providing all of your gowns from now on, and Jacqueline will be in charge of ensuring that not a single hair of yours is out of place. I have been the castle seamstress for many years, as Jacqueline has been its chief image consultant. You, however, are the first lady we have had residing here in quite some time. Please, if there is anything you need, do not hesitate to inform us. Why don't we start by getting rid of that rag you're wearing," the armoire congenially offered, showing off a vast array of bejeweled, embroidered gowns of every hue imaginable. Who lived here before I, Beauty wondered, that wore such things, that could live in such splendor? Beauty felt frightened and out of place. She knew that the objects were simply trying to be kind to her, but she was not used to being addressed by furnishings. Also, the image of the Beast was still imprinted in her mind, his pointed horns, menacing claws and frightening teeth engraved permanently on her subconscious. It had been a long, emotionally trying day, and she wanted nothing more than for it to be finished.
"That's very kind of you. I appreciate it, honestly, but I would really like to sleep now, if it does not offend you."
No sooner had Beauty said this than a lavender velvet nightgown was thrust through the armoire towards her. Accepting the garment and putting it on, Beauty nervously glanced at Catalin, who had taken off her boots and laid her dagger beside them and had curled up the divan.
"I promise not to leave." The black cat assured her. "It would appear that you are safe in this room; at least I do not detect any hint of threat in anything here now. However, if any outsiders do come in, you may rest assured that I will hear them and that they will be dealt with."
Reassured, Beauty knelt beside the bed and gently began to nudge at the mattress, wondering if perhaps it was alive as well.
"Hello? Hello? Are you awake? Can you hear me? Can you- listen, I'm going to be sleeping here for quite some time, if that's all right. Hello?" She turned to the feather duster, who was now shuffling out the door. "Melinda? Can he or she speak?"
"The bed is not amongst us servants, Beauty. It cannot speak." With that, the duster vanished as the candles of the chandelier blew themselves out. Exhausted, Beauty climbed into the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. She sank into the mattress as if it were water. Closing her eyes, she relaxed her body and tried to force herself to think of something, anything, other than the Beast, his strange, enchanted castle; and the family she'd left behind.
As Beauty lay in the bed, she began to feel weightless, as if she were being carried away on a light breeze. She tossed and turned as she disappeared into a misty haze. What was going on? Was she dreaming? She saw nothing, she felt nothing, only flying, only floating towards the center of the mist. As she moved deeper and deeper into the fog, a shape began to appear to her in the distance. Beauty squinted. She wondered what it was. As the shape came closer, she could see that it was a man. This man was the most handsome that Beauty had ever seen. He was attractive enough to make Raoul look uglier than the Beast. The man's flawless skin was of a beautiful pale tone, like alabaster or pearl. His black hair, the color of midnight, shone as bright as the sun. His silvery grey eyes sparkled lovingly at Beauty, and when she gazed into them she felt as if she could see deep caverns, sparkling with undiscovered diamonds. His body was strong and muscular like Raoul's, but whereas Raoul's physique seemed reminiscent of a machine, this man's reminded Beauty of a living creature, an indomitable spirit conveyed through strength and courage. The man was a prince, a fact made obvious by the golden suit he wore, covered in silver medallions. He approached Beauty and addressed her.
"Marry me."
Beauty reeled back, startled. Had this man, whom she was sure she'd never seen before in her life, just asked her what she thought he'd asked her? No, she could not have heard properly.
"What?"
"Marry me, Beauty. Please."
Confusion raced through Beauty's mind. This man, this PRINCE, had just proposed marriage to her. The Baker's daughter. She did not even know the man's name! How could she ever marry him?
"No! I cannot marry you! I do not know who you are!"
"But I need you, Beauty. Please, marry me! Marry me!"
"But I do not know your name!"
"Marry me!" With that, the prince began to fade. Beauty, frightened, tried to chase him. However, the fog had other plans. Within seconds it had surrounded Beauty, choking her with its misty haze. She could only watch, only wonder as the prince disappeared.
As the mysterious prince faded into the distance, a warm, comforting smell penetrated Beauty's nostrils. She sniffed, trying to identify the appetizing odor as she slowly began to awaken. The smell was soft, light yet hearty, salty yet sweet, and familiar. As Beauty regained consciousness, she realized that this was no ordinary smell. This was the smell of bread baking. That could only mean one thing: It was all a dream. Chip's hysteria, the night escape, the journey through the woods, the castle, the roses, the Beast, the talking household objects, the prince and his marriage proposal… all of these were in her head, mere figments of her imagination. Chip probably hadn't even returned from the festival yet! Beauty yawned, her eyes still sealed shut. I wonder what time it is, she mused as she stretched in bed, trying to will herself to get up. I hope I haven't slept too late. I'll probably get it from Stepmother in a few minutes. Beauty paused as she thought this. Something was not right. She jerked her leg, hitting the mattress. It sunk into the bedding as if it were being enveloped into a cloud. Beauty inhaled sharply. That wasn't supposed to happen. Was she still dreaming? Quickly, she ran her hands over the blankets. Soft and smooth as silk. These were definitely not her homespun blankets. Desperate, Beauty rolled over in bed and found that she was alone. This was not home. Home was not one's own bed with silk and satin blankets and a goosefeather mattress. No, home was a comfortable-enough straw mattress with homespun blankets and a little sister who kicked in her sleep. Beauty slowly lowered her eyes open and gazed at her surroundings, more resigned by the second. There was the velvet nightgown. The canopy loomed above her head like a purple storm. The purple Turkish carpet still rested on the silver floor. Beauty looked up to see Catalin curled up on the divan in the corner, her prized boots and dagger on the floor beside her bed.
Beauty sighed, defeated. It was not a dream. She was really the prisoner of a Beast. There was no escaping that fact. While she would not be eaten, she would be doomed to remain inside this castle for the rest of her days and would never see her family again.
Author's note: Wow, this one was long. This is probably the longest chapter this story is going to have. I tried to break it up, but just couldn't find a way, so yeah. Also, Beauty is going through intense mood swings (who wouldn't in her situation), and as we all know, people do stupid things under stress, i.e. Filling one's satchel with beans. On another note, the voice with the mysterious accent is saying: "Well, I'm sorry, but in the past I never used an axe! Besides, what's the use, I say. The Beast can simply, how you say, rip it apart with his monstrous jaws. He does not need butchers when he can do the job perfectly by himself!" I meant for the accent to not resemble any one in particular so as not to offend, but if it is too close to one and it is offensive, let me know and I will re-work it. So, now the Beast has his girl. However, that is only one of the Witch's requirements. Can Beauty love a beast? Can the Beast make it possible for Beauty to love him?
What new adventures and acquaintances await Beauty and Catalin in their new life as the Beast's prisoners? What will happen to the Baker, Cinderella and family now that they think Beauty is dead? How has Chandler's rescuer affected him? And what will become of Brina? Find out in the next chapter.
Reviews= good, flames= magic baked beans.