A/N: 'Parently I like updating this story a lot more than I thought. Mostly right now it's just 'cause I like where all of this is going.
Shadowfang14: Naw, I made it up. Eric isn't his name. I just thought it would fit the character. Idk what Patrick M. had in mind for his first name. Thanks! Here's the next one!
Here we go! (Oh god)
Beatrice's POV:
If it weren't for that kiss her whole world might be normal and she wouldn't be feeling so suddenly rushed. If it weren't for that kiss, things wouldn't be so complicated. If it weren't for her feelings in general, she wouldn't be sitting in a chair with Lorna staring at her with concern. If it weren't for the Beast she'd never have met any of them and things would still be normal, and she wouldn't be getting married to some guy she didn't want to. If it weren't for her mother, she wouldn't be here at all. If it weren't for Greg, the Beast would be roaming again. If it weren't for her own foolishness, she wouldn't be sitting in some abandoned cottage with no idea of how life had gotten so messed up.
Thoughts like these, and only thoughts like these, trickled through her mind in a slow torrent of molasses-like speed. Her breaths were slow, but she could feel the way she sort of raggedly took them in and then let them go as slowly as her thoughts were. Beatrice was feeling a little more wretched than usual over her own actions, and with no one to tell them about except the one she had performed them to, it was all the more horrible.
Lorna's large eyes were still looking at her. Why was that timid creature looking at her? Okay, well, perhaps it was the position she was in, with her legs spread and her dress falling between them and her head in her hand, eyes shifting from one place to another. It was a little strange of her to sit like that, no, Lorna probably thought it was strange of her to sit like that. For Beatrice it was often the one way she could disgrace her own mother, because despite her love for her mother, she didn't always enjoy the way the woman talked about their family and such.
"Beatrice?" Lorna's small voice came softly to her.
"Please, don't talk to me." She shook her head with enthusiasm, pressing her hand harder into the side of her face.
"Are you feeling alright?"
"Do I look well? What do you honestly think?" Lifting her head and dropping her hand, she stared straight at the girl.
"You look quite well but…your mental state may say otherwise." So now she finally got it. Sheesh, the girl was a little dense.
"It does. And probably my physical state. Why do you care?"
"You talked to Wirt. Did he say something or perhaps do something that you did not enjoy?" Her manner was kind enough that Beatrice sighed because the girl probably would never believe her if she said she was the one who had done something.
"No, it wasn't … he didn't do anything. I guess." If you called that not doing anything.
"Then what, may I ask, happened? I'm afraid I don't understand what you are getting at."
"A lot of things happened, Lorna. A lot of things, things I don't think you'd understand anyways." Beatrice shook her head once more, but less energetic again.
The silence that reigned after she spoke was one of deep thought. Beatrice could tell that Lorna was trying to figure out what she meant and what had happened, but the poor girl was not doing very well at it. Which, of course, was fine in Beatrice's view because she didn't want her finding out right now; things were too busy and they were trying to still figure stuff out anyways. Apparently that was what she was going to be doing with Wirt now, trying to figure out why they felt this way to each other and how they could make it work with him in this horrible position.
Light flooded in suddenly as the door swung open and in came Greg, humming a tune and holding his frog. He smiled at the both of them, and then sat down abruptly in front of the door as it closed. Beatrice wanted to smile back but with the way she was feeling, which was pretty gutted out of emotions, she couldn't do anything but lean her head on the table. Lorna stood up and looked out the window.
"We may need to do something soon. Are we going to keep walking?" She said, turning to look at the red-head.
"I have no idea, okay? Look, maybe we're meant to just stop here. I don't know what to do anymore, and I don't know where to go." Beatrice had felt the anger there but now that she was actually releasing it, part of her wanted to stop. "I don't know how we can help any longer."
She stood and stormed out of the cabin, leaving the other two behind and heading toward a tree. Settling down against it, she sighed, burying her face in her arms. Everyone expected her to have the answers. They had a right to, as she had created this mess. She was the one who had made the deal that had landed them all here, and now where were they going to go? Wirt was going to end up staying like this and was going to be the Beast. It was just going to happen: she should have realized they were simply delaying time. Hope wasn't there anymore, there wasn't any hope anymore that was left for her to use against what was the inevitable.
A feeling of a presence by her caused her to lift her head, hoping it wasn't-but it was. Wirt stood there without a single emotion on his face. He looked almost sorry for her, but she wasn't sure he wanted to feel happy. It looked like he didn't. Happiness was probably the worst thing conceivable for the Beast and she was the one who had caused it, and now he looked more in pain than anything else, as if being happy caused him severe pain. Most likely it did, so now he was suffering. Beatrice wasn't sure if she was upset that it was because of her that he was like this, or not.
"Beatrice?" Well that was definitely Wirt's voice, so the Beast wasn't busy right now. Probably unhappy, but not busy.
Instead of replying, she put her face back down, not willing to look up. All this time had been spent wondering how he was feeling, and it made her feel worse that he was just as confused as she was. Only they could get themselves out of this mess, and that was what was the worst part about it. The other two couldn't help with this part of it, as much as she wished they could because she needed more support with what she was feeling currently.
"Beatrice?" Wirt said it again, still no emotion in his voice. "I…"
"If you've come to apologize, it was my fault. Let's not fight like the most cliché people ever, please. Or whine. Or complain." She sounded muffled through her arms.
Wirt took a deep breath, she could hear it, "I … I know. I just wanted to let you know…that…if I get out of being like this…we could…"
"You're not going to escape the Beast, Wirt." She said it coldly. "It's too late. The others were right. This sort of thing doesn't …. It doesn't go away. You'll become the Beast. And you will not be Wirt anymore and this whole endeavor will be for nothing."
"I know that, Beatrice." Wirt actually sounded sad, and she looked up at him, staring at him in disbelief. "I … it was hopeless all along. We haven't even gotten far yet and I already know that. I did know it."
"So you're just giving up?"
"There you go again." This time he was harsh about the way he said it, shaking his head. "I told you. I'm not giving up. This is just accepting my fate, I guess."
"You're not going to do it." She refused to just let him go. No matter how she knew it was right. "Someone here has to have had experience with this sort of thing before."
"If there were anyone, they would have helped."
"I don't think so." Beatrice looked away from him and around. "I have the feeling they wouldn't want us to know about it so they'd just be rude and walk away."
Wirt drew in a sharp breath, "The Woodsman doesn't know anything about this."
Yet as Beatrice listened, she knew that it was the Beast talking in that instant and not Wirt. It was easy to identify the different voices. Her suspicions grew as she thought about how the Beast probably lied about stuff to cover up his past. Evil spirits often lied to cover up, it was common sense in this place.
"The Woodsman knows plenty of things and we're going to find out what exactly he knows." She stood, and couldn't help but let the smirk grow on her face because she was overjoyed in allowing him to know that she wasn't going to let the idea down. They would find out what they could.
"I refuse to let you do that." The Beast's tone was sharp now, and he reached out and grabbed her hand, large white eyes swirling.
"You can't do anything, since Wirt's in control of you currently, and we made a deal. Anywhere. Until we've given up or win." Beatrice made sure to say this matter-of-factly and started walking toward the cottage. "I'll get the others, you wait here."
The Beast moved to stop her but she began to run, ignoring his low growling sound that followed her. When she flung the door open and saw the other two on the floor, playing with Jason Funderberker, she couldn't help but give them both a smile. They stopped and stared, wondering no doubt what had come over her. She was feeling much better than she had been 15 minutes ago.
"We're going to see the Woodsman." Announcing this, she crossed her arms.
"The-why?" Lorna exclaimed, standing up. Greg stood too, eyes gleaming.
"He'll give us food." Was Greg's reply, but Beatrice didn't make any comment off of that.
"He has information we need. We'll get there as soon as we can. I don't think he will want to see Wirt, but we can go in, I'm sure of it."
"He seemed so angry…" Lorna trailed off, her face looking rather pale now.
"I'm sure he'll be unhappy to see us, but that's not what matters."
Greg grabbed his frog and started out the door, but Lorna seemed to freeze before she moved forward. As if she suspected something now, but Beatrice didn't let that linger, because she was finally having good thoughts. All thoughts of what had happened were gone and now she was determined to find out what she could. They were no doubt nearby the mill that the Woodsman apparently lived in, as she had asked Wirt of once, back when they were traveling around to get them home-that thought struck her a bit.
The feelings she'd had for Wirt had started during that time. Maybe it was obvious, but she figured it wasn't since he hadn't suspected much at all back then and probably hadn't now. Up until now, at least, and now she'd ruined her reputation right in front of him, to him.
"Let's get moving!" Greg ran out of the door, and she followed him after Lorna.
If things were going to get better, perhaps they could find a way out of all of this and the Woodsman had answers. Her suspicions had started last night when they'd run into him, and now it would be best if they pursued those suspicions. Beatrice had enough confidence that she knew better than to let them fall flat on their face.
A few hours later they stood on the steps of the mill house. Wirt had gone to lurk in the forest, and she was looking at the other two.
"Well, we'd better get going on this." Lorna announced, and did the last thing Beatrice thought she would ever do-knock on the door.
A few minutes later and they were confronted with the Woodsman. He stared at them. Beatrice saw his face fall a bit at first, and he was silent for a little bit. As if he was considering whether to let them in or not.
"Well. This is an interesting situation we have, eh?"
A/N: Well that was chapter 13. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed! Can't wait until the next one! Thanks again and please, review, review, review!