Chapter 2

It had been a strange few days in the castle for Belle, learning so many unusual thing that she'd never even dreamed would occur outside the pages of one of her storybooks. From what she understood after hours of conversation, courtesy of Mrs. Potts, her Beast was cursed long ago by some sort of enchantress, who left him and all the residents of the castle, locked in the forms of household objects. The rose she had found, had been the symbol and hour glass of the curse and yesterday its last petal fell. It was unclear to everyone in the castle what had happened and why the master had stayed the same. Perhaps Belle had been too late. She had not been able to profess her love in time, even though she had felt it for a long time. Perhaps the Beasts curse was more fragile than theirs. Perhaps this was just the way the witch made sure not everyone suffered for him. No one was sure, but what they knew was that he remained a beast and every other individual who had been affected was cured.

Belle lingered by his side for days, reading or laying by his side when she knew no one would interrupt them. The kiss she'd bestowed upon him had somehow saved his life, however leaving him in some sort of deep sleep. She liked to be there beside him, waiting until he woke, because she realized how frightened she would be, waking up alone in his situation.

She spent so many hours just staring at his sweet face, her hand lingering over his exposed arms and cheeks. She sat with her legs folded to her one side, her back against the plush headboard, her fingers slipping through his mane. Once or twice he had huffed or moved when she had tickled or touched a special spot, but other than that, he remained in a dream.

She'd never been able to appreciate his form for so long. It was an endless exploration, it seemed. Before she had been afraid to look at him; now she felt no hesitation staring his pleasant sleeping form. After he had been brought inside, he had been bathed and his wounds dressed. She had met the castle's doctor for the first time and he had assured her that he would be fine as long as he was allowed his rest. They had brought him into another room, one untouched by his wrath. It was a beautiful white and gold room at the corner of the castle, with panels all along the wall. There was a large marble fireplace and windows along two sides of the walls. The Beast lay in a large bed with a luxurious golden embroidered blanket and almost too many soft pillows about his head. Above was a long set of curtains that draped down from the tall ceiling and over the edges of the bed, so that one might pull them closed to escape to morning sun. Mrs. Potts had told her, this was his room before he had begun sleeping in the west wing. Belle had supposed he felt he was undeserving of such human splendor.

She couldn't help but think it was foolish of him as she stared down at him, his regal, lion-like form among the royal colors and silk fabrics. He lay on his back with his blankets coming up over his chest, his auburn fur exposed from his lack of clothing. She could see just the edge of his bandage as he moved slowly to his side as her hand slipped over his cheek. He stirred.

"B-belle?" he whispered gruffly, his eyes wincing at the light as he stared up at her. She didn't move but smiled softly. Her hand continued its gentle stroking; she hoped to keep him calm now that he was injured.

"It's alright," she murmured gently, "I'm here now. You're safe. Everything is going to be alright."

"You've said that a lot lately," he almost chuckled, his voice still soft and deep. His body shook a little with the beginnings of laughter, but he winced moments later, feeling the wound on his back.

"Careful," she urged, placing her hand on his chest, shifting down so that he could see her without moving again, "You're still hurt. It's only been a few days. Do you remember what happened?" He thought for a moment, his heavy brown knit in confusion as he attempted to piece together what had happened.

"I was outside. You were there. It was raining. There was a man and my back," he grumbled softly, then glanced up at her with the sudden realization at the confession of her love. It couldn't be true. He must have dreamed it all up. His eyes shot down to his paws, huffing in frustration as he lay back. It had been a dream. Belle watched him for a moment, realizing what thoughts might have been going through his mind. She wondered if now was the best time to explain or if waiting might help him understand.

"Beast," she murmured softly, placing her hand on his paw, pulling it to her cheek and cuddling against the fur, knowing this might be her last moment of calm before the tempest of his temper lashed forth, "I think you should know something happened while you were asleep."

He glanced up at her, his brow peaked in interest and surprise at this show of affection. It filled his heart with excitement to think even after all this time, she came back and still felt this way for him, but her tone worried him slightly. Perhaps she would leave him yet again?

Just as she parted her lips to speak, a small knock came at the door and it pushed opened.

"I thought you might like a nice cup of tea, my dear. It's almost time for lunch," Mrs. Potts bubbled, carrying a large tray with a cup and pot that looked much like herself only a few days before. She stopped though, staring at the two of them on the bed, the beasts eyes zeroing in on her human form, as if something in his mind were snapping. Mrs. Potts just stood there, eyes widened as she looked back and forth from him to Belle.

He stared up at Belle too now, then to his paws again, then to Mrs. Potts, his mind wildly racing to make sense of all of this. It couldn't be. The curse couldn't be broken without him. What had happened? What had she done? What had he done wrong?

"Belle," he urged almost in a panic as the rage built inside him, "What's going on?" He bellowed now, Belle's eyes snapping shut as he shouted. Mrs. Potts quickly put the tray down on the table and turned to him again.

"Now master, don't blame the girl. None of us understand what's happened-," Mrs. Potts insisted, placing her hands up on either side in defense but before she could finish, the Beast had shot up from his place in the bed, uncaring of the sharp pain he felt in his back as he moved back and forth, pacing at Belle's side.

"Get out!" he growled, turning towards his servant with his mouth more animal like than before, his words turning to a vicious roar as tears welled in his eyes. She quickly obeyed him and he turned to Belle again, his eyes pitiful and filled with fear and rage. "What happened?" he demanded, staring down at Belle as she carefully watched his large form move back and forth, her eyes shifting down every so often to his bandages which were now, once again, soaked with blood as he pulled the wound open in his movements. She winced at the thought.

"I don't know. I- I said I loved you, and they changed back but you didn't," she whispered regrettably, guilt in her voice as she fought back the urge to cry. She'd never agreed with the Beasts outbursts, but for this one time, she knew it was the proper reaction and somehow this was probably her fault.

"You wh-," he began as if he expected her to say something outrageous. Perhaps she or another intruder had touched the rose. Perhaps his almost death had prevented him from changing. He was ready to burst again, but when she admitted that she had said what he thought she had, his anger somehow melted in an instant. "You what?" he repeated, calmly and almost with confusion, as if it was the most beautiful lie he'd ever heard. When his speech changed she nearly began to cry. He was so much gentler now than he had been when they first met. It broke her heart to think that the only thing keeping him a human now, was her compassion and her love.

"I said, I said I loved you. I don't know what I did wrong. They all changed back but you remained this way," she said softly, staring up into his eyes. Suddenly the beast felt light headed and silly for his outburst. Now he was bleeding again and as he felt himself calm, he felt ill again. He sat down beside her on the bed, placing his paws on the soft linen of his pants, his eyes lowered in thought, unsure what to say. He couldn't think of anything she could have possibly done wrong. He wondered to himself in these past few weeks as they had drawn closer, just what his goal had been. Was he trying to become human again, or was he trying to obtain her love? The obvious answer was the latter, but now he was sure that he would never be able to keep her. Who could ever possibly learn to love such a monster?

"You didn't do anything wrong," he assured her, surprised when he felt her hand touch his. He turned to look into her eyes. Perhaps when she said it, she had not meant it, but then why would all of the other have changed back.

She looked down, frowning gently as she watched his heaving form, the bandages now coming undone. She slipped off the bed, pushing the edges of her green dress down over her legs again as she moved up to the table beside the bed and looked back to him.

"I'm going to have to fix those now," she said pointedly, her eyes darting to the bandages. He remembered the last time she dressed his wounds, back when he had saved her from wolves after he frightened her out of the castle. She had helped him back and after all their fighting, she'd somehow managed to be kind to him. That was the moment he'd realized she was different, that she was the one. She was the one who might help him. However, here they were, and the spell had been broken but he was still a monster.

He nodded and pulled away the bandages with one hand, getting up off the bed and approaching a tall mirror that stood in the corner. He turned and looked down at the large wound on his back. His fur there was missing and he could see the stitches that had held him together, some now broken and tugging, causing him to bleed again. He winced softly and returned to the bed.

"I'm sorry," he muttered sincerely as he lay down on his stomach, glancing up at her, "For losing my temper." She smiled sadly, placing her hand on his cheek as he watched her prepare the soft cloth pieces and balsam.

"Of all the reasons to be upset, this is the most understandable," she said softly, returning to her work. She moved back and forth and then took a small bowl with watcher and a rag, carefully dabbing at the cut. He let out an animalistic growl, baring his teeth and wincing. One eye popped open and stared at her, sheepishly looking down. He felt awkward now. He had yet to acknowledge what she'd said. All he'd wanted was for her to love him and now that she did, he had a million questions but he couldn't think of how to ask any of them.

"Mrs. Potts told me about the curse," she said finally, moving on to smoothing the cooling balsam over the stitches.

"What did she say?" he asked, unable to mask the worry in his voice. His eyes closed, indulging in the feeling of her delicate fingers lingering over his flesh, the pain soothed by it and the balm.

"That your beastly qualities were what got you into this mess to begin with," she said, almost scolding him. He drew his lips back in a wince again, this time for emotional reasons. "She told me you were a young man. It was a mistake and all of you were cursed, until someone came to break the spell," she continued, frowning when she thought that she had failed.

He watched her now, seeing the regret in her eyes. She was so kind to feel guilt for his mistakes. Perhaps it was all for pity, even if she'd never known there was a spell to break.

"Why did you stay?" he asked softly, his eyes locking with hers. She smiled tenderly, and wiped the excess cream from her fingers before placing her hand on his.

"I stayed because it was the right thing to do. I meant what I said. I didn't know you could be or ever were another way. I learned to love you in this form and I still do? Why would I change my mind now?" she whispered kindly, leaning down beside the bed, her face closer to his as she brushed her knuckles over the soft fur of his cheeks. He could feel his heart beating faster again, feeling secure for the first time in ages about her intentions and how she felt. He reached out, a clawed hand softly holding her long brown hair back from her face. It felt like silk to his padded paws. Altogether she was so delicate and soft. Just touching her was so different than anything he ever remembered. She was finer than gold and more soft than velvet. Just being close to her filled him with the urge to protect and care for her, even though it seemed as strong and monstrous as he was, she was always caring for him.

"You love me then?" he asked, his voice still mirroring the disbelief in his heart. Her eyes met with his and she moved in closer, closing the distance between them until she could feel his moist breath against her lips.

"I do love you. I'll never leave you as long as you want me here," she said lovingly, resting her forehead against his. She was afraid now to kiss him. Before he had been moments from death and now she was felt shy for some reason, feeling his gaze locked on hers.

"Now that you know that, I have to bandage you," she mused, with a little giggle, sitting up and going back to her work.