That afternoon, the two settled in the dining hall for warm French onion soup, courtesy of everyone's favorite matronly teapot. The china they ate from was lovely, but Belle was a bit frightened at first by the growling lions whose heads adorned each side of the bowl. To ease her fears, one began to gently lick and nuzzle her fingers as she ate and she soon calmed down and enjoyed her meal. Though not a fan of onions, Belle swallowed them and her stubbornness quickly, as there was nothing the kitchen's staff couldn't cook. After all, she was at first hesitant towards Lumiere's insistence to "try the grey stuff- it's delicious!", but soon came to realize that using the word 'grey' to describe food was not necessarily a bad thing.
The Beast, who was seated on the other side of the table, was struggling with his silverware. It was not the thought of using one of his kitchen staff as a utensil, though he did feel pity for whichever poor bastard was turned into a spoon. His massive paws and killer claws made it challenging to grasp such a tiny object, and he honestly did better just gobbling up everything like a beast anyway. But since there was a lady at the table this afternoon, he forced himself to pick up the flimsy metallic utensil and attempted to daintily scoop up some soup, dribbling the contents into his throat. Though the vast majority somehow ended up dripping down his fangs, he was proud of himself for doing something that he hadn't done in many years. Granted, Belle was giggling at him from across the table, but it was in an endearing way that didn't bruise his ego. He let this slide, as she was still laughing at him, but only this once.
"Care for some more to drink, luv?"
"Oh!" Belle was surprised to see Mrs. Potts and a slightly anthropomorphic wine bottle on a gold plated cart beside her. "Yes, please."
The teapot refilled the guest's wine glass and made her way over to the master's place.
"Er, thank you," he responded gruffly. Mrs. Potts was so surprised by his sudden display of manners that she almost knocked Monsieur Vincent (the wine bottle) right off the cart. They scurried away without a word.
The Beast tried in vain to strike up a conversation.
"How is your meal?"
"Lovely," Belle replied with a soft yelp, as the lion's head had accidentally nipped her.
Noticing this, the Beast arose with a start with a look in his eyes that caused the little lion to shrink back and whimper.
"I'm sure it was an accident," she said, hiding the spot of blood that the porcelain predator had drawn. Daintily swirling the rose red wine in her glass, she casually attempted to change the subject. "You have a lovely garden. One could easily spend the entire day out there."
"I see. Is that what you were trying to do today?" The Beast slowly sat back down.
"Not necessarily. I was just hoping to get a bit of fresh air this morning."
"Since you spend all of your time here cooped up in your quarters?"
"Well, yes, but-"
"Why is that?"
Belle sank back in her seat a bit. She knew that never coming out of her room was unspeakably rude, but that did not excuse his behavior. She straightened.
"You expect me to be open to the idea of being held captive- to just be a damsel in distress? I only agreed to this because you kidnapped my father!"
"He was trespassing! What did you expect me to do?"
"Show a little kindness and decency to a sick, helpless old man!"
"You expect me to just leave my doors open to every Tom, Dick, and Stanley that just waltzes in here uninvited? DO YOU THINK I WANT OTHERS TO SEE THIS?" He leaped up on the table, snarling. Belle, not one to be walked all over, put aside the few eighteenth-century ladylike conventions that she followed and did the same, albeit with some difficulty. She scrambled a bit to get up on the table, but the skirt of her dress didn't allow for much movement. She slipped a bit and landed on her knees, but regained her dignity by managing to stand.
"You monster- he could have died!"
The Beast slowly crept towards Belle, the table creaking under his weight.
"What did you just call me?" he snarled. Belle could feel his warm breath in her face.
"Master, please-"
"SILENCE, LUMIÉRE." He turned back to Belle. "What did you call me?"
"A monster. A horrible, beastly monster." She crossed her arms indignantly. "You were going to let an old man die just because he was looking for shelter!"
The Beast stood and stared at his "guest". Suddenly, he reached for her and grabbed her by the hair, his claws grazing her neck.
"What are you- agh! Let me go!" He yanked her off the table and dragged her from the dining hall.
"Let the poor girl go, m'lord!" Mrs. Potts hopped helplessly after them, click click click. "You're only making the situation worse!"
"I DON'T CARE! IF SHE LIVES IN MY HOME, THEN SHE'LL SHOW ME RESPECT!" He pulled the maiden towards the dungeon tower as Belle helplessly stumbled along.
"Think of the rose, m'lord!"
The Beast and his captive made their way up the stone stairs. Belle slipped slightly on the polished stones, falling to her knees with a yelp. The Beast yanked her back up and continued up the stairs.
"Please let me go!"
The Beast ignored her, his mind on her punishment.
When they reached the dungeon, he threw her in and she slid across the floor into a large pile of hay. When she looked up, the Beast had shut the heavy wooded door. She gently rubbed her neck, sore from his mistreatment. Tears fell down her cheek with fear of what was to come.
The Beast clambered down the stairs on all fours and headed towards the horse stable. Philippe awoke with a start and greeted the Beast with a whinny after noticing Belle's familiar scent in his fur. The Beast ignored the humble carthorse and searched quickly. Though he was unable to ride horses himself, the stable was still well equipped with the proper instruments- a fine assortment of whips and crops was hanging from the opposite wall.
.AN. ...I find it hilarious that I've had another account here for about a year with "clean" stories with a modest following, but when I promise lemons on an account that I've only had for roughly a month, my views go through the roof. Pervs. XD .AN.