La Bête Ch. 01 (Patreon)

After a brief bit of conversation with patrons, I decided to split the Beauty and the Beast story in half.  I'm nearly done with the second half and it will be released next week.  Most likely early next week.  Probably Monday.  I was just told that splitting longer stories (this will be over 15,000 words when done) makes it easier to read.

Plus, this'll give you something to look forward to once you finish this one :)

I hope y'all enjoy.  I tried to make it period accurate as much as I could with my limited knowledge and research.  I wanted to at least give it a decent atmosphere that worked well.  This is, of course, based on the original story.

The palace lay within the depths of the forest, surrounded by enormous gnarled roots rising above the earth like gigantic ringed worms.  As if tilling the depths of a land overrun by titans still free of their enslavement beneath the surface.  The trees supported the illusion, and indeed they could be stand-ins for those colossal mythical creatures.  They towered above the palace with boughs stretching to the horizon to cloak the entire area in darkness.

A single shaft of pure golden light lanced through the shroud toward the rear of the estate.  Beauty stared at it, focusing on the light in an effort to bolster her courage.  Her horse shifted beneath her, rocking back for a brief moment before starting forward once more.

She could barely remember the ride from her country home.  The great beast, who had delivered her father, had gladly accepted her in return.  When it felt her weight upon its back, it took off as quick as an arrow loosed by her eldest brother's brow, and just as unerringly.  The landscape had been a blur.  She'd clutched the creature's mane with one hand and the other gripping the horn at the front of the saddle so tightly that she feared her delicate fingers would never work again.

Her father had pleaded with her to allow him to accompany her on her journey, but she forbade it, instead insisting that she alone would submit herself to the waiting creature.  She feared it would change its mind on her father's punishment, especially when it learned that his children had pried the truth of the matter from him.  No, although she was tempted to allow her to guide him, she traveled alone.

"Oh," Beauty gasped with flames reflecting in her eyes.

Stone statues lined the path to the castle.  She saw now that they each held a torch in an upraised hand and, at her approach, the torches lit in sequence, bursting into life until the area was bathed in light and a gentle warmth . Orange trees grew around the statues and only now did she notice them, so dwarfed were they by their surroundings.  They were haphazardly planted in several rows behind the statues but, now that she looked, she saw more scattered within the forest itself with their fruit hanging from their limbs.

A silent trail of light traced a gray path into the sky.  Beauty swallowed and clutched the saddle tightly once more with aching fingers.  She feared the sight of it.  Her rattled mind imagined the worst - a demonic bird launching itself into the air to hunt her for sport.  A sudden, piercing shriek made her clasp her hands to her ears.  Seconds later, countless streamers filled the sky.

"Oh!" Beauty cried out.

Her mouth dropped open but she hid it behind her hand as she stared at the explosions erupting above the castle.  She stared, momentarily forgetting where she was, with childlike glee at the fireworks illuminating the forest.  Bittersweet memories stirred within her.  Before the destruction of her father's merchant fleet, her family had attended social functions which included pyrotechnic displays.  She watched them now, but the enchantment was diminished by the reminder of her family's current circumstances.

When the last firework exploded with a delayed whomp, the unperturbed horse continued forward.  Her heart began to beat faster within her chest as she approached the castle.  Oil lamps arranged above doorways and windows woke to flame with the sound of a sharply exhaled breath.  She was delighted at the display until she noticed true lover's knots outlining crowned monograms.  Written within were the initials of Beauty and the Beast.

Before she could remark upon the forwardness of the signage, a great cacophony startled her nearly off of the horse who, once more, seemed unbothered by its surroundings.  A thousand discordant instruments competed against each other as if vying for her attention.  She could imagine the Beast, when asked by its musicians what to play for her arrival, roaring 'Everything! Anything! Just play!'  A dire portent for his behavior and state of mind.

As the horse finally came to a stop at the foot of the steps leading up to the castle, she thought to herself that if she were given one final request, it would be to personally pick the music for her impending funeral ceremony.

Beauty leapt from the horse.  With her fingers resting against its side, she took a deep breath to steady her nerves.  The music died and she used that as her excuse to take her first step into the castle.  She held her simple, well-worn dress up in order to not trip upon the hem until she was at the landing.  From there, she entered the hallway.

Despite the lackluster decorations outside, the castle was incredibly well appointed.  She'd half expected to find the interior in ruins, but, instead, was amazed to see all manner of exquisite paintings and furnishings.  After a slow walk through the hallway, she found herself entering the drawing-room.

A rich feast was laid out, waiting for her.  She remembered the words of her father - of his first visit to the castle and his own feast and the eventual consequences he faced when partaking without permission.  She was here at the Beast's command, however, so she seated herself.

As described by her gentle father, the Beast was a fearsome creature and she quailed at the thought of meeting it.  Its temper seemed extraordinary and she prayed that enjoying the food laid out before her would show her acceptance of her fate.  Her own life was forfeit in exchange for her father's safety, but she was determined to do what little she could to survive.  It was the same determination that allowed her to adapt to the move into their cramped country home after her family's losses.

Her bravery faltered at the sound of a roar outside of the drawing-room.  Beauty shoved back against her chair to stand with her hands clenched against the side of the table before her.  There was only one way out of the room and it was through the doorway she'd entered from.

"Courage," she reminded herself and, as she spoke, she forced herself to sit straighter despite already being as rigid as a board.  Not only her own life, but that of her family balanced on the tip of a sword.  A sword that was held by a creature devoid of humanity.

His arrival left her momentarily witless.  When her brothers and sisters had dragged the details of their father's harrowing journey, his description of the Beast was madness.  She'd sat, listening to his raving as if far away while a rushing noise filled her ears.  Goaded into storytelling by his children, her father ranted about a great scaly Beast, more dragon than man.  After, when she'd recovered from the tale, a part of her expected his description to be a metaphor - the man's beastly behavior made flesh through an overworked imagination brought on by the threat of death.

And yet, here he stood.  The Beast.  His ears, great twitching tufts, brushed the top of the doorframe while his elbows nearly touched the sides.  Knee-length breeches, royal blue with gold trim, barely contained his bulk.  He wore no stockings and she briefly noticed the lack of shoes.  The laces on his full-dress shirt were untied.  A long tear delved deep, separating the shirt further to compensate for his massive shoulders and chest.  And still it was ill-fitting.  His waistcoat, tailored to reach mid-thigh on a normal man, barely touched his hips.  Two buttons were absent and it was impossible to miss the torn stitching surrounding the empty spaces.

His size alone marked him as a freak; he would tower over any man.  Indeed, he was no man but truly a Beast.  Brown fur covered his entire body from the tips of his pointed ears down to his broad feet.  He supported himself on his bare feet with his knees slightly bent and his toes - paws, really, with obsidian claws curling to touch the floor - resting on the dark fleshy padding covering the bottom of his feet.

"Oh," she said quietly while blinking rapidly.

A wolf's head stared at her from atop his shoulders.  Thin whiskers trembled while his black nose, broad and wet, glistening in the light of torches and candles, swelled as he inhaled her scent.  His snout was closed, but it did nothing to hide his fangs.  They curled away from the tip of his muzzle, locking together tightly.  Despite his animalistic appearance, elaborate braids twined his hair together in twisting knots that reached down to his shoulders.  She wondered, faintly, who managed him.  A more fantastical curiosity forced its way into her thoughts despite her best intentions: did someone daily brush his fur?

Movement drew her eyes to a bulge at the front of his breeches.  His open waistcoat did nothing to hide the shifting flesh.  Her cheeks grew red and she looked away, but, now that she'd noticed it, she could still see it at the edge of her vision.  It grew larger, spreading beneath the fabric as it widened until the laces above tightened to restrain it.

She rose on unsteady legs, grateful that her dress hid them away from view, and he studied her with brilliant golden eyes set deep beneath his sloping brow.

"Good evening, Beauty," he spoke, finally.  His voice was a booming, rumbling growl that reverberated throughout her body.  She felt no animosity from his tone, but he could do nothing to hide the rough edge.  It was a surprise, then, that she felt herself relax.  Her trembling ceased.

"Good evening, Beast," she replied as calmly as she could, mastering herself in the brief moment since he spoke his greetings.

"I expected your father to attend with you," he told her and his sharp eyes searched the room while his chest expanded as he took in the surrounding air.

"He begged, sir, but I thought it best to come alone and spare him the pain of seeing his daughter split from him forever.  We said our final farewells at home; my life is yours to do with as you please."

As she finished, he walked to her, and now she knew the clicking sounds were his claws cracking against the flooring with every step.  His hand reached out with a finger curled to touch the bottom of her chin.  Like his feet, his fingers were tipped with ebony nails, dense and curved to deadly points.  The side of his claw was cool against her skin as he lifted her chin until they were staring into each other's eyes.  Her heart raced.  At his touch.  At his closeness.  At the warmth she felt from him.  Fur from his finger tickled while the padded calluses scratched her, a contrast that made her shiver.

"You come of your own accord to freely submit yourself to me," he mused.  "I'm pleased.  I will send gifts home to your family to commemorate the occasion and so that they may remember you despite your absence."

Having spoken, he gestured for her to sit once more at the table.  She obliged meekly and he joined her at the opposite end.

Beauty picked at her food while the Beast simply watched.

"Will you not join me in eating?" she dared to ask.

"I've already had my fill," he told her and, then, he waved his hand.  "But, please, enjoy yourself.  The feast is yours."

Her nervous stomach left her uneasy and the ride, combined with the lateness of the hour forced her jaw to widen in an embarrassing yawn she barely hid behind her hand.  The Beast took note and excused them both, leading her from the drawing-room and out.

She followed behind him, rushing to keep pace with his long strides and only now did she see his tail.  It swept back and forth behind him in short arcs that continuously drew her attention despite her best attempts to ignore it.  A split in his waistcoat showed a ragged tear at the back of his breeches to allow passage for the tail.

The Beast stopped before ornate double doors outlined in golden trim.  He pushed and the doors opened silently to show a room almost as big as the home her family now lived in.  A four poster bed was the centerpiece.  Velvet fabric was tied back at every corner.  Sofas and chests of drawers and other magnificent furniture were arranged around the room with a path left open to an enormous closet.

"Goodnight, Beauty," the Beast said while standing beside the open door.

"Goodnight, Beast," she replied before stepping into the room.

The door closed behind her.  Lamps and candles flickered until she walked through the room to extinguish them.  Finally, she sat at her bed with her hands folded in her lap.  Exhaustion weighed upon her, heavier by the moment.

A glass chalice rested upon a table by the bed.  She peered into it to see the dark liquid.  The aroma of freshly poured chocolate wafted up to her.  She reached for the glass and tipped it back, swallowing the warm concoction until it was empty.

Beauty turned to lay completely upon the bed.  It was extravagant, softer than anything she'd felt before.  Her eyes fluttered and closed while muscles relaxed throughout her body.

She slept.

In her dreams, the estate was laid out before her.  The overgrown forest was gone, replaced by topiary, fluttering butterflies and gentle animals wandering the open grounds.  The orange trees still remained and she stared at them as ghost winds buffeted her without stirring her dress.

A man stepped from around the trunk of the orange tree in front of her, startling her.  He was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, and, when he spoke to her, her heart ached for him.

"I can feel your sorrow, Beauty," he said gently as he swept towards her.  She glanced in confusion and slight fear when a large shadow moved by the tree behind him.  Sunlight surrounded the man like a halo.  "You worry for your future without realizing that you've been saved from a life of indentured solitude to a family undeserving of your charm and grace."

"You aren't real, sir," she told him.  "You-"

Once more she looked around him to the shadow looming by the tree.

"I am real, Beauty," he replied while kneeling before her.  "And closer than you realize.  My love is deeper than the ocean itself but it will take your keen mind and the return of my feelings to see through the bleak depths of my disguise.  Eyes bound by societal mores see what they will but you must look beyond to find my true self."

His flowery words continued for some time but the dream faded and she found herself in a quiet room with a window overlooking a green valley.  She was seated here and another woman faced her.  The other appeared ageless but carried a weight of authority and maturity she would never command, even unto her old age.  Her words echoed the young man from earlier, urging her to look beyond appearances.

When her second dream ended, she found herself in a seemingly endless sequence of dreams involving the young man in a variety of places and activities.  His beauty rivaled hers and his words of praise for her never faltered.  She was thrilled by the attention but her eyes wandered.

The shadow remained, always half-hidden just in the background.  Its shape was familiar to her in a way she couldn't place and its presence gave her pause until the man pulled her away or took her hand.

She woke late in the evening the next day, full of energy and wonder.  The dreams remained but the words faded until she was left with his image and the impression of their time together.  The gentlemen in her dreams had been perfect and attentive, seeing to her every need before she even realized she wanted something.  As the memory of the dream turned to mist, she clung to him as well as the vague sensation of being desired and loved.

Beauty stirred and changed her clothes.  The closet was fully stocked with dresses appropriate for royalty and all fit her perfectly.  She took her time admiring but finally settled on a silver dress layered with pearls.

When she stepped into the room, the candles and lamps were all lit.  She stopped to stare at them with a nervous hand against her delicate throat.  The doors were closed and she'd heard nobody enter.  She was certain that she would've heard or seen someone as she moved around the closet.

It was said that well trained servants never showed themselves as they worked and she told herself that was the case here.  She made a note to mention it to the Beast when next she saw him.  In the meantime, she sat at a desk surrounded by mirrors.  Powders, pastes, and brushes filled the surface of the desk.  She delighted in making herself up - a waste for the Beast but she had her own pride as well.  When she was satisfied, she left.

As Beauty wandered, so did her mind.

The prince from her dreams must be a prisoner here, she told herself.  The Beast controls everything, now including me and nearly my father as well.  This prince, without a proper bribe to ensure his freedom, must've been locked away.  He must- he must've- Oh, Beauty.  You're so quick to grab onto any raft in this storm.  He was simply a dream conjured to fit the elegance of this palace.

And elegant it was.  Not a speck of dust covered the walls or furnishings as she wandered through the vast number of rooms.  And still, she was certain she'd barely covered a fraction of the estate.

Just when she decided to turn back to her room, light glinted past the doorway on her left.  She turned to see a bracelet dangling from a chandelier.  It was the only thing she'd seen out-of-place and she was drawn to it when it rotated slowly in front of her.  As she neared, she spied a small metal oval dangling from a fine chain.

Beauty reached for it, going to her tiptoes in order to unhook the bracelet from the chandelier.  The oval held an incredibly delicate painting of a young man.

"It's you," she gasped in quiet surprise while staring at the painting of the man from her dream.

Every detail was correct.  She sighed, happily, and clutched the bracelet to her bosom before locking it around her wrist.  An excited thrill raced up her arm when she realized what she'd done but she refused to undo it now.  He was the man from her dreams and it was a reminder that he lived - that he was real.  And if that was real, so were the words he'd spoken.  Fragments came to her - believing in him, in his love for her and looking... beyond?

Her suspicions had to be correct.  He was kept as a prisoner here by the Beast.

The discovery invigorated her.  She ran from the room and into the next across the hall with a joyous laugh.  Portraits surrounded her now, but directly in front of her was the man from her dreams.  Life sized and seemingly full of life.  She approached carefully to stare at him, walking back and forth before him as she studied his face and body in detail.

Now her thoughts changed.  The Beast hadn't captured the wayward trespassing prince.  Instead, he'd taken over the castle.  He must've imprisoned the man and his family to live a life of stolen wealth and prestige.  She walked through the room and, in so doing, walked through time.  Ancestors begat ancestors as each painting showed more and more wear.  When she reached the end, she touched the stolen bracelet and left.

Her stomach reminded her of how late it was and so she returned once more to the drawing-room to find dinner waiting for her once more.  It was a smaller amount but no less extravagant.  She waited for minutes, but just as she lifted her silverware, the Beast made his appearance and her fork clattered against her plate.  Her trembling hand gripped the bracelet until she found the clasp.  She opened it and hid it in the folds of her dress before gathering her courage once more to stand before him.

"Good evening, Beauty," the Beast growled pleasantly.  When there was no rage or roaring, she relaxed herself.

"Good evening, Beast," she replied shyly.  Her earlier discovery put her in an awkward position of feigning pleasantries while knowing the true owner of the castle was in chains beneath them.

"How have you amused yourself this day?" he asked as he sat at the opposite end of the table.

"By exploring, sir," she told him, taking her own seat.  "Although, I must admit that the estate is so enormous that I've only managed to visit a small amount of the apartments contained within."

"Hrm," the Beast grumbled.  "And do you believe you'll be able to make this your home?"

Once I restore the rightful owner, yes, the impertinent words rose to her lips but she swallowed them.

"I couldn't possibly give up the chance to live in such a beautiful estate," she told him.  It wasn't a lie.  She very much did want to live there.  Only, not with him.

He continued the conversation, asking about her life before as well as her family.  She answered as politely as she could.  When dinner was finished, he once again escorted her to her room.  With his hand on the door, he paused and for a brief, impossible moment, she swore that he looked nervous.

"Beauty," he began before stopping once more.  His monstrous fangs grinded together.  "Let me sleep with you tonight.  As a man and a woman do, together."

"Oh!" Beauty staggered back against the wall.  As she looked away from his face in shock, she realized that he was once again swollen with his mind full of carnal desires.  "God above, I'm lost!"

"No," the Beast growled and she heard a new fierceness in his voice.  "Don't- don't fear me.  I only asked- Answer me with a simple yes or no, without worry over what I shall do, for I will never harm you."

"No, Beast," she whispered with her hands against the wall.  She could feel the hard edge of the bracelet pressing into her palms.

He nodded once, twice - as if he knew and had accepted the outcome beforehand.

"If you'll not have me, I'll bid you goodnight and leave you in peace," he told her.

His voice was slower.  Even in her frightened state, Beauty swore she could hear pain hidden in the everpresent growling.  He bowed, ever so slightly, but kept his eyes down.

"G- goodnight, Beast," she told him.  She hurried past as she spoke and was relieved when he closed the door behind her.

So eager was she to see her prince that her eyes closed and her breathing slowed as soon as she lay on the bed.  Despite the confrontation, sleep came quickly to her.  Her prince rejoined her at once, wrapping arms around her.

"My dear Beauty," he whispered while holding her tightly.  "I've waited an eternity to see you again.  The pain of your absence cripples me, but I know I must endure for an eternity more.  How harsh is your judgment as my jailor!"

"M- me?  Your jail-" she began to ask but the dream shifted and she was outside, twirling in the prince's arms while music played and figures danced around her.

"They're here for you!  The festival is in your honor!" the prince exclaimed.

Now she saw, as she spun and dipped, that they all stared at her.  Men and women, dancing around her but always with their sight fixed upon her.  They all whispered of her beauty as if mesmerized by her.  She smiled in return but it faltered under the gaze of so many.  Their worshipful looks unsettled her.  She turned, instead, to the prince but gasped when she saw the same expression contorting his face.  There was hunger in his eyes.

"You are my light," he told her.  The music swelled until it was a physical pressure crushing her body.  "Your beauty matches my own.  I thought I was lost forever, but you can redeem me.  As your prince, I will elevate you for all to see.  Even without your status, your elegance will leave none willing to challenge our union.  Aphrodite made flesh."

"I-" her head throbbed.  The voices rose in volume as they continued to praise her and the invisible orchestra swelled to match.  "I don't-"

The scene changed to a ball where the prince held her hand to lead her from one dignitary to the other.  They all remarked upon her grace and allure.  He paraded her before them while they gushed over her hair, slim neck, and her perfect waist constrained within the corset of her dress.  As before, the dreams changed, but in each, she was flattered without pause.

Beauty woke on her back with her arms crossed over her stomach and the bracelet clasped in her hands.  She lifted it to stare at the spinning miniature portrait of the prince.  It was him.  The dreams were fading, yet she could still hear the ghostly voices speaking of her beauty.  So she was named.

After finishing her morning routine, she left her apartment to wander until she found the room containing the painting of her prince.

"I danced with you," she told him, reaching her hands up to his face with her fingertips hovering over the surface.

If she'd never met the man, she would've assumed the artist took inspiration from biblical angels to give their subject an unnaturally handsome appearance.  And even now, she doubted herself with only the knowledge that she met him in her dreams before seeing his portrait.

A lingering uneasiness troubled her.  She turned while clasping the bracelet around her wrist once more.  The walls of the castle closed in on her with a pressure that made her ill.  For a moment, she saw her prince in her mind's eye.  He stared down at her with a wild expression that gave her pause.  When it vanished, she hurried, rushing through the halls until she was outside.

The gardens greeted her while gentle sunlight, filtered through boughs overhead, cast a golden glow.  Beauty breathed deeply of the fresh air before gasping in delight when a spray of water shot through the center of a fountain.  Other fountains followed and she clapped her hands at the display.  Statues littered the area with orange groves that matched the ones lining the path to the castle.

"I remember this," she said out loud while turning slowly to take everything in.

She'd seen it all in several dreams.  Now that she recalled it, she remembered part of a dream where she'd sat for her own portrait in front of one of the fountains.  The memory, matched with the sight of a place she'd never visited before, reinforced her idea that the Beast kept the prince captive.

Beauty toured the gardens for an hour before turning back to the castle.  Once again, she explored the castle, browsing the apartments slowly in order to truly enjoy their variety.  After delighting in a room containing everything needed for sewing and knitting, she came across an aviary.  The clever birds, never straying from the room itself, enchanted her with their songs in an effort to attract her attention.  She knew a few of their species from the forest and field but so many more were unknown to her.  Despite their differences, their songs wove together into a complex symphony that pleased her greatly.

She sat upon a sofa and laughed when the birds competed with one another to settle close to her.  Still, her heart ached and a sadness touched her smiling eyes.

"You're just as I am," she told them.  "Prisoners kept for the beauty of your-"

The prince's words echoed throughout her mind along with suddenly remembered snippets of her dreams.  She'd be swept along with him in each of the scenarios.  On display - to be remarked upon by all who saw her for her extraordinary beauty.

A troubled frown crossed  Beauty's full, red lips.  Her eyelids fluttered while faint creases showed over her brow.  She was used to attracting the eyes of others.  Her entire life, before her father's misfortune caused their relocation to more humble surroundings, were filled by the interested and envious glances of others.  It was her life but external to her until she found her prince in her dreams.

"I must- I'm sorry, little ones, I need some time to myself," she said while gently prising herself from the sofa.  The birds surrounding her burst into flight.

Beauty passed large doors on her way back to the hall.  She walked, temporarily lost in thought until something caught her attention.  Her room was next door to the aviary.  The realization surprised her as she'd thought for certain that she was in a completely different part of the castle, but, also, because she never once heard the birds sing from her room.

Do they only sing for others? she asked herself.  Do they sleep, quietly, invisibly, until the moment that someone enters?

She rested before dinner, laying in bed to work through the new thoughts churning in her head.  When darkness touched her window, she stood, settled herself and her clothing and walked to the drawing-room.

As before, she entered before the Beast. He joined after and bid her good evening, which fell upon deaf ears.  She twisted the bracelet upon her arm while staring at her plate of food.

"How do you find your apartment?" the Beast asked, bothered by her silence.  "It would be my pleasure to guide you, should you need a tour.  If you're restless, I have an enormous library for you to browse.  Or a knitting room.  Or a-"

"Am I beautiful, Beast?" she asked suddenly.

"Of course," he growled, a moment later.  Her question surprised him, as did her interruption.

The fur over his golden eyes moved and she now saw lighter hairs mixed with the brown.  Delicate eyebrows that she'd missed before.  She stared at him, looking past the muzzle and his fearsome fangs.  His sharp eyes twitched and she suddenly wondered how soft his fur was.

"Would you put me on display for your guests?" she continued, prodding him while watching his expression change.  It was difficult but there were subtle hints in his wolfish features.

"On display... no," he told her and now his ears bent backwards while his eyes tightened.

"Because you host no guests?" she asked.

His fangs scraped together, sawing while his black lips, glistening in the candlelight, pulled back until she spied the fleshy redness at the base of his fearsome teeth.

"You're no toy doll," the Beast snarled finally.  "No statue for others to admire.  You're mine, as you've given yourself to me willingly.  And, I am yours.  I care not what others think.  My mate, to stand beside me as my queen.  As my equal.  You are, otherwise, your own woman.  I only want your love, affection, and respect.  Nothing more and I give my own in return.  You're worth more than a display piece."

"My beauty is my worth," she said quietly.

"No!" the Beast roared and now his ears stood tall.

Beauty shrank back into her chair at the suddenness of the Beast's anger.  She looked up at him with her head bowed.  His claws gouged the top of the table while his lips trembled.  Laces broke at the front of his silk shirt to show thick tufts of brown fur.  His chest expanded as he breathed through his rage to calm himself.  Her heart raced so quickly that she feared he could hear her - a rabbit's rapid beat before a hungry predator.

"No," he said after swallowing.  "Your wit and kindness far outpace your beauty - that which is already legendary.  No ordinary woman would consent to the burden of my company, for their own sake, certainly, but especially not to save their family.  Your filial piety speaks volumes of your character, enough so that my own vast library couldn't contain the entirety of it.  That you can sit here with me without fainting - indeed! That you can eat before me! That shows the strength of your courage."

"You flatter me," Beauty said, as quietly as before.

Now she lifted her head, raised up by the conviction in his words.  Her heart raced just as quickly as she stared at the Beast leaning over the table.  Strong black lines circled his golden eyes.  They were wide and honest and his fists were clasped tightly, claws biting into the dark calluses covering his palms.  His ears bent backwards at an angle - a sign she took to mean he was anxious.

Had she truly thought him hideous before?  She wondered that now, as she studied him.

Small tears opened in the sleeves of his waistcoat and the shirt beneath until strands of fur stood in the gaps.  He spoke of her strength but she could see his even through his clothing.  And yet, his bulky build belied his sharp intelligence.

They ate in silence afterwards with the Beast casting looks her way.  She watched him, occasionally, as he struggled with the utensils laid out before him and she found herself admiring him for it.  He could easily tear through the roasted pheasant and other meats but he ate meticulously, presumably for her benefit.

When they ate their fill, they stood and he escorted her to her room whereupon he opened her door to hold it for her.

She could see his arousal before he spoke.  The bulge his breeches couldn't contain.  So much larger than those she'd seen before - by accident but, more often as she'd grown older, with increasing curiosity.  And something more that left her breathless and warm.

"Beauty," the Beast spoke.  He licked his lips with his broad tongue before growling, as if to clear his throat.  "Let me lay with you tonight.  My body against yours."

"I- I cannot," she said, her voice hoarse while her temples throbbed.

She knew the request was coming, but it still left her feeling dizzy.  She shivered - not from fear but from the ghostly touch of a hot finger scratching down her spine.  He stood close to her.  Close enough to smell the faint flowery scent beneath the earthy aroma of his fur.  Close enough that he could wrap his arms around her, swallowing her up within his fur with his claws holding her tight.  Her lips parted and she shivered again when the faint puff of his warm breath caressed her cheek.

"Then, goodnight, Beauty," the Beast said while stepping back with the door handle in his grasp.

"Goodnight, Beast," Beauty said, slipping past.

As the door closed behind her, she leaned against it with her hands over her chest.  She felt strange and not just due to the rapid pace of her heart.  Her hands slid down, against her breasts until they pressed into her stomach.  The echo of her heart beat between her legs and throughout her cheeks.  Up to the tips of her scarlet ears.  She raised one hand to touch her warm face while wondering if she was warm below as well.

The dizziness from earlier returned.  Beauty lay her head back against the doors, breathing as steadily as she could.  Suddenly, her clothes were too tight and too hot and too much.  Her shoulders ached from the straps of her stays.  She sighed when she stripped out of it and down to her shift.  The touch of the silk moving against her body made her gasp in surprise.  It was something beyond ticklish; a gentle brush stroking her body in a way that thrilled her with a unique itching sensation deep within her body.

Beauty crawled into bed on all fours before turning to lay still.  Her chest rose and fell and she turned her head to press into the pillow beneath her.  Each deep breath pulled her shift against her bare nipples, sliding them back and forth until they began to harden and press into the sheer material.  She groaned with her small hands clenched tightly beneath her.

She was a mirror image of the Beast, anger replaced by lust but her chest expanding as his had and her fists clenched as his were.  The double image conjured him behind her tightly closed eyes.  His fiery countenance arguing on her behalf.  She had experience with anger; her sisters were abusive and her brothers could be quite protective and boisterous, but his was of a different nature.  Her brothers saw their defenseless baby sister and any slight against her was against their entire family.  The Beast saw her as a woman standing on her own merits.  An equal of sorts.

How did the prince in her dreams see her?

She fidgeted in bed, restless and warm, tempted to slip out of her shift in order to lay naked. Every twitch, every breath, left her desiring something she'd never felt before.  She moaned, head turned and lifting, with her bottom lip dragging against the pillow beneath her head.  Her legs sawed back and forth, rubbing together while her feet twisted, locked at the ankles to force her thighs closer.  With her lips apart, her breathing came rapidly and she realized dimly that she was panting like a wanton beast.

And, again, his image appeared before her as if called by name.  The Beast.  Snarling with fists clenched.  Shirt tearing.  She shuddered, lifting her chest in a juddering motion with a sharp gasp before laying back down.  Her eyes were open and staring beyond the walls of her room.

Warm air wrapped around her bare, smooth legs beneath her shift, coiling until they reached deep.  The tendrils felt cool against her bare flesh.

Beauty sat up to stare down at her body.  Her shift clung to her.  The cream color was dull between her legs and heavy, weighted enough to show her swollen labia.  She pulled at the bottom of her shift to expose herself, lifting it carefully without touching the wet spot she'd made in the material.  Tiny clear strings lay tangled in her bushy pubic hair while the skin below, and on the inside of her thighs, glistened in the light of candles surrounding her.  When she moved back, she spied a dark patch on the bed itself.

I... soiled myself? she wondered, staring at the mess.

The scent was different.  Sharper with a hint of sweetness behind it.  In the more than eighteen years that she'd been alive, she couldn't remember experiencing incontinence before.  It disgusted her enough that she carefully removed her shift to be washed later.  She found another, dressed in it, and then lay on the side of the bed away from the mess she'd made.  The maids would find it and she could only pray that they would hold their tongues to hide her shame.

And, still, despite what had happened, her heart refused to settle and the Beast filled her thoughts.

"You're doing well," the woman told Beauty.  "But, you musn't let yourself stray.  Keep your heart and mind pure."

Beauty blinked.  Just a moment before she'd been in bed.  Now she sat in a small room with a kindly woman.

"Where am I?" Beauty asked.  The room was plain to the point of being spartan with no identifying features.

"A dream, Beauty," the woman told her.  "I am, however, quite real.  The curse prevents me from visiting you otherwise."

"Curse?  What curse?" Beauty asked, alarmed.

The woman's mouth moved silently and her kind eyes grew clouded.

"I- I cannot say," she gasped, a hand against her throat.  "It is powerful magic that works against me and all others.  Heed my original warning.  Keep yourself pure, as you are and ever have been, and the rewards will be greater than you can imagine."

"What are-" Beauty tried to ask, but she was standing now, and watching her prince approach.

"The sun shines once more," the prince announced loudly with a broad smile.  He took her hand and knelt to kiss the very tips of her fingers.  "Come, there are dreams of other royals to touch, with grand fêtes to attend!"

He stood and pulled her but she resisted and their hands came apart.

"Who are you?" she asked him in a hoarse voice.

The prince's smile faltered for the first time since she'd met him and, for an instant, she swore she spied something darker behind his eyes.  And then it was gone and his smile was bright again.

"I am your prince," he told her.  "The one you seek and the one you'll free.  Your love will-"

"But, why?" she asked and his smile nearly broke once more.

"Why?" he repeated, as if disturbed by the question.  "I'm afraid I don't understand, Beauty."

"Does the Beast have you trapped in the castle?" she prodded bluntly.

"I- I- I-" the prince stuttered.  Sweat beaded over his brow while the blood drained from his face.  He groaned, in pain, and placed a hand against his head.

"You have to see the real me," he whispered with his back bowed and his eyes on the ground.  "Your love can free me if you can look beyond my grotesque nature to who I really am.  Save me and all of your desires will come true."

"And?  What are my desires?" she asked, as quietly as he, while her eyes searched his face.

"Comfort," he said, more confidently now.  "Comfort and the adoration of all.  A luxurious life without care or concern.  Everlasting beauty.  As all women do."

"A painting in a gallery," she told him before sighing.

"What?" the prince asked.

"Send me back," she said.  "Back to my dreamless sleep.  I'm tired tonight."

"Beauty, no," the prince said, reaching for her hand once more.  His smile was fractured.  "Come with me.  A king will have his birthday celebration soon and I know the dreams to touch to see it before it is finished."

"Another night," she said, retrieving her hand.

"This is wrong," he told her and his face cracked while his melodious voice took on a rougher edge.  "She said you would listen.  You'll be better tomorrow night.  She will visit you again and you'll pay closer attention."

"Who told-" Beauty tried to ask.

The imagined room was fading, swirling with darkness that centered on his hard eyes until even those vanished.

Beauty awoke with early morning light streaming through the windows.  She felt as if mere minutes had passed, but dreams were tricky things.  Sleep eluded her when she closed her eyes to rest longer.  With a heavy sigh, she slipped out of bed to clean and dress herself.