AN:/

Long time no update!

With a few shuddery steps, Tino made his way up to the gate like his own brother had done just hours ago. Shuffling his feet, his hands clutched around the flower, choking the colour out of it. Normally, a flower enthusiast like Tino would have avoided this at all costs, but he was too nervous to even register that he was doing it. He aimed a glance back at his chauffer, but the man with the axe was already heading out, not even offering a wave to Tino. Hmph! How mean – had Tino said something wrong?

Without further ado, Tino faced the gate again, taking in its sheer size. It was just so intimidating! Tino's mind wondered if he got many guests, this king. If he set things up to look this uninviting, then surely not many people could want to visit, could they?

Then Tino wondered how he was actually supposed to come into the place. It certainly didn't have a bell system and nobody was guarding the gate or anything. To test the gate, the boy pushed against it, yelping when one of the sharp edges cut into his finger. Okay, that wasn't going to work.

Aiming his head at the top of the gate, Tino decided to use his voice (as per usual). "HELLLLLLLOOOO! PLEEEEEAAAASSEEEE OOOOPEEEN THE GAAAATE," he called obnoxiously, kicking the bottom of the gate for added effect.

At first, he saw no results. Soon enough, though, a light shone in the window, then another window, then another. Shadows would pass over them every so often, and Tino could sometimes make out a figure in the windows if he strained his eyes.

A few curtains were drawn, some opened, then stillness once more. Tino was starting to wonder if he had been forgotten, but then the gate creaked open without anyone manning it. With a shiver, he crept through it, his eyes scouring the area for a doorman.

No one was around, but Tino felt the need to express his gratitude anyway. "Thank you," he whispered in a general direction, hoping that the gate opener had heard him.

The garden was colourful against the gray slate of the castle, the several shades of the flowers contrasted pleasantly with each other. These were obviously not grown randomly, Tino could tell – someone with a practiced eye for flowers or patterns had designed this place. Even Tino couldn't find a flower particularly out of place, though he could swap a few around due to personal preference.

Instead of heading inside, Tino meandered into the garden, stroking the petals of every flower. Because he lived in such a harsh climate, flowers were hard to come by – seeing something like this was pretty welcoming.

As if in a dream, he continued floating around the place, sampling each scent like a bumble bee. Granted, his nose got swollen and his eyes began to water (he never did understand why his body was so irritated around flowers), but it was well worth it. The flower vendor's garden had been extensive, but not this expertly laid out in the least. Best of all, Tino was able to see flowers that he hadn't ever seen before, obviously expensive. Some were carefully placed around mirrors that reflected straight onto them. Tino pondered and studied the mirror (but was careful not to move it). Perhaps these were sun-loving plants that couldn't take the bitter cold – not at all like the shade-dwelling lily of the valley.

Speaking of, he could see the non-bush of the lilies, but none were on it. Huh. He gripped his own flower protectively, deciding that he should probably stop moping around. Maybe this king guy was nice and not a creeper at all!

Tino walked back and approached the door to the castle, equally as intimidating as the gate. It differed from it because it actually opened. Tino stepped inside and was greeted with a pleasant warmth, coming from a roaring fire. It wasn't in a pit like in most houses – it was more similar to the village ones, more sophisticated.

It was a shame that the fire had been the first thing that he noticed because of how opulent every other cranny was in the place. It was a humongous room with a giant staircase in the back, one that Tino felt awkward to look at. His muddy feet sunk into the plush carpet below his feet (not that he knew was carpet was), thousands of crystals reflected from the chandelier above (but he had no idea what that was, either). The mantle of the fireplace (once again, something Tino didn't know of) was decorated with about fifteen trinkets, all sparkling in the light from above.

Two swords hung above the mantle, something Tino was familiar with. He longed for the swords of his parents, at least then he would feel capable of protecting himself from whatever was to come.

Not that he was distrusting of his surroundings. No, just a little insecure.

He would have explored his extravagant new home, but a creak sounded from his right. What was that? It had sounded like a chair against a wood flooring (a sound he learned from his previous new home), but where could that be coming from? And how come this place was so… small? It wasn't as if he were complaining, it was just that it had looked so much bigger from the outside. There was only this place, with plush carpeting and a fireplace, that seemed to serve little purpose. What kind of house was this?

As he looked for the source of the sound, he noticed another door. That was weird, since when were there doors inside houses? Would this just lead him outside again? How pointless! With a huff, Tino opened the door.

Oh. That was not outside, was it?

With a blink, Tino saw that the doors inside the house led to other rooms. This room had wood flooring, but was still similar in opulence to the plush room with the fireplace.

Another fireplace was against the wall, but a large table went down the middle of the room, cushioned chairs pushed up to the sides. Only one chair was pulled out, a silver platter on the table space in front of it.

Tino quirked an eyebrow, but inferred that it was either meant for him or for the king. Perhaps a servant had laid it out for dinner or something. Tino trotted up to the open chair and sat down on it, finding it hard to feel uncomfortable with the situation when the chairs themselves were just so comforting.

He pulled the cover off of the plate, revealing a succulent looking dinner of a type of meat (Tino had never seen it before), some round type of filler food, and a bright orange fruit. Next to it all was a letter, a little damp with steam.

Tino pulled it up and glanced at it. The writing certainly looked neat, with carefully formed letters.

Tino,

In anticipation of your arrival, I've set up dinner and a room for you. I do hope you find it most suitable. I will not be around much and you are not expected to do anything, but please do make yourself at home. You may venture into the marketplace as often as you like, though I would not advise going out at nighttime. If you should, however, no harm will come to you.

You will have at least two meals a day, all of them will be filling.

I only have two rules.

Do not go looking for me

Do not leave the marketplace.

Please comply as readily as you are able.

Have a comfortable night.

Then a seal was placed under it – two lions clutching a shield with more lions on it. Crowns were on the lion's head and on the shield.

Unfortunately, Tino couldn't read. Whatever this was, it looked pretty important – Tino had a feeling that not being able to read was a big problem here. He bit his lip. That picture under it looked pretty important, but what did it all mean? Oh darn it all….

Wait. If someone had made noise earlier, it meant that someone was here now, didn't it? Maybe he could ask them to interpret. Tino placed the cover back over the meal and slipped off the chair, looking around for more of those inside door things.

There were a lot more in this room, but which one to go in? Tino figured that if he heard something from behind one, then there had to be someone there, right? He listened next to two doors, both seeming to be dead behind it, and then skipped the one he had just come from, leaving one door. With a deep breath, he pushed it back, preparing to yell a greeting in this guy's face.

It was much dimmer in this room, so Tino wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him. A giant armchair was pointed away from the door, but Tino could see that someone was in it. "E-excuse me?" Tino ventured, noting the twitch in the chair at the sound of his voice.

Silence, then a low rumble. "What're ye' do'n here?" It took a minute for Tino to register it as someone speaking.

"N-nothing! I'm not doing anything!" Tino blurted in an uncharacteristically scared way. Why was it that this atmosphere sent shivers up and down his spine - that he found it difficult to stay there when he could easily bolt and run? "I just wanted to see where the king was, that's all," Tino scuffled his feet into the worn wood flooring, something that seemed out of place in this elegant dwelling. He trembled when the voice thundered again.

"That so?"

For whatever reason, that infuriated Tino. What was that supposed to mean, "that so?" It was obviously some sort of filler statement, said by people too stupid to have conversations properly. At least that Matthias guy had at least tried to pay attention to him talking!

At least, that's what Tino thought on the matter.

As he fumed, the voice spoke up again.

"Ye' can't read?"

Tino blinked. Eek! How did that guy know? "Nope, I can't. It's kind of not common knowledge, you know," he tapped his chin thoughtfully, his other hand still clutching his flower. "But can you read? If that's so," he stressed the last phrase, noting that the figure twitched when he did so, "then maybe you can help me." He punctuated his thought by bouncing slightly on his toes, peeved with how slowly the person responded.

Finally, he spoke. "'M the 'un who wrote th't. 'M the king." The man shifted in his seat momentarily, oblivious to the gape now present on Tino's face. The king! Who would have thought that this really creepy guy was the king? Tino brushed the hair out of his face and stared, trying to process that he would have to live with this guy for pretty much his entire life.

When he thought of it that way, he felt panic rise in his throat. His desire for small talk sprung, so he began to spurt the first things that came to mind. "Oh, really? That means we'll be living together from now on, right?" He paused with a smile, hoping to detect a change in the king's attitude. He strained to see, but detected absolutely nothing. Bugger. Well, uh, gotta talk, right? "I'm Tino, it's really nice to meet you. I…" oh, how to word this… "think we'll get along really well!" Oh boy – did that sound convincing enough? Tino sure hoped so.

"Mm," the king mumbled, his low voice reverberating through the room in an almost ominous manner. Tino got a mad case of the chills. Brr, this guy wasn't much of a talker, was he?

Shuffling his feet side to side, Tino attempted conversation again. "Sooo… what's your name?" He asked, giving the king something that he could readily reply to. Maybe the king just was uncomfortable with people.

Unfortunately, he never gave a response, he just sat in his chair and stared at the fire some more. Tino had no idea what his problem was, but it was really starting to bug him. With a glare, Tino stomped up, poking him on the back a little too harshly. "Look, I'm trying to get us off on the right foot. I'm trying to be a good guest. The least you can do is tell me your name," he snapped, his cheerful self abandoned for the time being. If this guy couldn't even put forth an effort, this would be a very long rest of his life.

After another infuriating silence, Tino figured that it would be best to confront this guy directly. Huffing to let the king know how displeased he was, Tino stomped around and made to face this silent king dead in the face. He didn't expect him to shrink back like that, though – the king had pulled his cloak over himself, as if making a shield between him and Tino. Getting a little annoyed again, Tino bit the inside of his cheek. "Come on, I'm sorry about yelling at you and all, don't be afraid of me," he tried to reason, a hint of irritation in his voice. When the king didn't even acknowledge Tino saying anything, Tino realized that he might havereally hurt his feelings or something. Gently, he kneeled next to him and lightly touched his hand. "Hey, I don't bite – I'm really sorry! You don't hate me, right? I mean I know that it sounds like I hate you, but I really don't. I don't even know you yet," Tino tried to reason, convinced that his new housemate was upset because of his rudeness.

Tentatively, the king stirred, still not showing himself to Tino. "'M Berwald, 's all ye' w'nted ta' know, right?" He shifted so he was sitting sideways in his chair, his face still concealed. Had he just introduced himself? Tino couldn't be too sure, but he thought that he had heard "Berwald…" what kind of name was that?

Tino decided to verify. "You're Berwald? Pleasure to know your name at last," he grinned. "Now here, let's see each other face to face. I mean, we're gonna be living together, right?" Take away that ridiculous cape thing covering your face," Tino gave a nervous laugh – it was dawning on him that this was a very awkward encounter and he kind of wanted to sleep.

It seemed to be even more awkward for Berwald, because he jerked from under the blanket. His form shrank back, which made Tino quirk an eyebrow. "Come on now, don't be shy," Tino said, as though being shy was a sort of deadly sin. When Berwald refused still, Tino began to tug on the cloak. Berwald's hands tightened around it stubbornly, so Tino stopped. "Really, take off the cloak," he said, beginning to get a little exasperated.

"No," Berwald said in response, though it was hard to tell what he had said at first. Tino's eyes narrowed.

"Yes."

"No…."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Berwald, take just take it off!" Tino screamed, seized the cloak himself and yanked it as hard as he could. Berwald made a kind or distressed noise (Tino had no idea how to describe it). When Tino finally got a look at Berwald, though, it was safe to say that he was the scariest and most hideous thing that he'd ever seen in his life.

Hollowed, narrow eyes glared at him with the intensity and likeness of a hawk's. Rough-looking fur sprouted from all over Berwald's body, pale in colour. From the places where his skin was visible, it appeared to be more scale-like than anything else. A long, greasy tail snaked out and curled under the chair, lashing back and forth irritably. Long, curled claws were digging into the seat, effectively ruining it for anyone else that might have liked to sit on it. Worst of all, though, was the creature's face itself. Horrible fangs of impossible length jutted out of Berwald's maw; a discoloured nose sat on the end of it, making him appear wolfesque. That is, he would look like a wolf, sans the creeping scales festering all over his face. Tufts of the fur poked out from his face, making him look like a disfigured abomination. As Tino took it all in, Berwald tensed, his muscles rippling with the movement.

To be perfectly blunt, Tino was terrified. Instinctively he flung himself backwards, shielding himself with one arm. He cowed, but looked up when he found that he was still intact and not being ripped to shreds. Slowly, he removed the arm from his face. The creature was still tensed, but it didn't seem like it was going to strike anytime soon.

"B-Berwald?" Tino ventured, his breath shaky. Maybe if he pinched himself he would find this entire thing to be nothing but a dream. He pinched himself. Shoot, it wasn't a dream, but now his arm really kinda hurt.

The monster looked up at the sound of its name, his eyes looking a little softer than they had a moment before. He gave Tino a look that he could decipher. It was a negative emotion, Tino supposed, because Berwald's tail was in between his legs and his ears were pulled back, just like how Hana Tamago looked when she was being scolded.

Tino was still breathing shallowly, not able to see clearly. Berwald seemed to notice, however, and slowly stood himself up, putting his arm-like appendages in front of him like the crocodile hunter confronting a particularly feisty snake.

When Tino withdrew, Berwald stopped advancing towards him. "'M not gonna 'urt ye'," he tried to articulate. Tino could see quite clearly that having a muzzle and teeth of that size was making it difficult for him to talk. He winced – why the hell was some sort of talking wolf-snake creature living in a castle and being called a king? Have the market people ever even seen him?

In any case, Tino opted to trust him for the time being. It wasn't that he was quick to trust a monster that could very well eat him, he just had no other choice. "What're you doing?" he questioned when Berwald began to leave the room – Tino noted that he walked on all fours. How had he written that letter? Didn't you need working hands to write?

Berwald glanced behind him. "Do ye' want t' sleep?"

Tino blanked for a minute. "Um, yeah," he mumbled, fiddling with the flower still in his hands.

Berwald continued onwards, so Tino assumed that he should probably follow him. He did know his way around, right?

They made their way back into the first room, the embers in the fireplace dying. Moving quickly, Berwald tramped up the stairs in the back, leaving Tino to run after him. Man, he could move fast.

When they got to the top, it opened to a long hallway, which Berwald turned down. After quite a bit of walking, Berwald gently nosed open a door to reveal an opulent bedroom. A giant canopy was the focal point of the room, but a large vanity and wardrobe were striking as well. Tino, having never even seen a comfortable-looking bed before, had no idea how to take it all. His fingers stroked the smooth walls, his eyes wide. Was this really his room? Tino gave a half turn to question about it, but Berwald was out of the room already. A weight pulled itself off of his chest – at least his host wouldn't stalk him like a lost puppy.

He shut the door and breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't dead – not in the least! Still shaken from the events of a few minutes ago, Tino resolved to flop on the bed (gently setting his flower on the vanity before he did so) and breathe in the scent of the sheets. Mm, rose.

After mindlessly laying there for a minute, Tino glanced up and saw yet another door – this one having glass in it. Through it he could see the outdoors. He chewed his lip thoughtfully – why would you have a door leading outside when they were so high up? Tino slid off the bed and trotted over to the door, opening it and letting in the dry, cool air.

There was a ledge with railing on the side, perfect for being in nature without actually being in nature. Tino stepped out onto the ledge (well, balcony, but Tino didn't know what that was) and leaned against the railing. Directly below him was the marketplace, dark due to the lack of sun. If he looked out, the moonlight revealed to him the forest – he could see the hills where the flower-seller's garden lay, and he could even see the path that led to his home village. How he missed that place! If only his parents had allowed him to go to war with them, if only they could have helped! Tino sighed, briefly reflecting on his parent's nature. They had loved Audun and Tino so much that they couldn't have let them go – they couldn't take the chance of them getting hurt. Other people found them crazy – if teenagers could fight, then surely young adults could, they said.

Tino rested his chin on his hand, still gazing out to the horizon. Why, there was the village where Audun and Cousin Roderich and everyone were, the one with the wall. He blinked and stared at it longingly – what were they doing tonight? A selfish part of Tino hoped that they were all discussing his departure, but something inside him doubted that they were.

With a sigh, he rested his entire chest on the railing.

He didn't want to be stuck here forever.

AN :/

I'm so happy that I could finally get this chapter up! Life's been so busy for me lately, I sincerely apologize. This chapter wasn't edited by my beta, so hopefully everything is still legible. ;; ;;

I've read all of your reviews and am touched by every single one. I've tried to address all the plotholes and errors that you've brought up in this chapter. Thank you so much for helping me with that – I do really appreciate it.

I've made it super obvious what this is based on now, and if you're slow (like me) and still don't know, it's Beauty and the Beast, yeah. It deviates so much from the movie because I really didn't want to rehash the same story that everyone knows and just switch some characters around. I'm sure you've seen all the fictions that incorporate things like Cogsworth and Lumiere as England and France and, though fitting, I didn't want to end up copying the movie. I tried for my own original take, but imagine my surprise when I found out that there was another movie about Viking Beauty and the Beast! ;; ;; ;;

Regardless, it (hopefully) won't go in a predictable fashion, so prepare for some surprises!

Thanks for sticking with me!

-Sweet