Beast: Chapter 3
After five days, Beast had forgotten all about the man who had stolen his rose. He was back to roaming the halls, with an empty mind poisoned with loneliness. One conversation, one nearly human interaction had not been enough to save it from the bestial depths it had sunk to. He was not expecting her any more than any other visitor, when a horse whinnied from near the gates, with someone on top of it, galloping through the vast garden to the palace.
He nearly had no time to escape, so he retreated up the stairs, listening. The stranger was in a haste: they jumped down the horse and ran up the steps, ran all the way inside, too, a little out of breath.
”Hello?” a voice echoed in the hall. It was a girl’s voice, young and innocent, a little shaky, scared. A kind of voice the walls didn’t recognise. The hollering was more intentional than any that had sounded before it, it meant to address someone specifically: meant to address Beast. ”Hello? I’ve come - I’ve come to take my father’s place.”
It took a little time to understand the words. Their father’s place. Beast remembered. The old man with six children, the thief. The girl was indeed addressing him.
It hadn’t truly ever crossed his mind, that she might come - and how many days had it been? He had given the man a week - it was barely five days, the fifth day turning into a cold night soon.
”Hello?”
Calling again, the voice sounded frustrated, possibly for having to be kept waiting.
Heavily, he moved.
He was the one scared.
She would be terrified, he was sure, she would scream and run away and somehow his loneliness would feel even worse. It was one rose - one rose that the enchantress would never come back for, anyway. He should have let her have it. But he would send her home, he would let her run away. What would he even do with a girl?
Heavily, feet dragging, every step making a weightful sound against the marbled stone, he began to ascend. Dragging along the body that was in no way his own, but which he could not rid; the effort solicited a low rumble from deep inside his chest. It echoed in the staircase, in the hall. Filling the space with a threat that would tremble inside one’s breastbone, rattle the ribcage.
He wouldn’t have heard if the girl had turned and ran away, not from under the noise his ascension made. But when the shadow in front of him on the wall finally moved to walk alongside him, when he reached the turn and could see to the dark hall with his small eyes, there she was, in the dusty dark, standing completely still, looking frightened but brave.
Not a little girl at all, but a young woman; and she was beautiful. Seeing him now, her big eyes widened — her skin had paled; it was white compared to her windswept chestnut hair, though despite it she was positively vivid in the bare hall. As vivid as the red rose she clutched against her chest, which was clad in a plain blue travelling coat.
Even afraid, she looked determined, red lips pursed. Somehow the look was both noble and defiant like a child's. Nonetheless, she would not have looked out of place on a battlefield.
It was true: Beast would have whimpered and coiled in shame if he could’ve, for he was undeniably afraid of stepping in front of such a creature. Of being seen by someone so humanly perfect. But fear would have been too much like a human emotion, something sympathetic, and so it was against the fibre of his new being that the enchantress had crafted. Thus, somewhere along the way from reaction into being his whimper turned into a low growl.
When he reached the lower floor, she finally took an unsure reactional step back, half a step. Beast halted, all the mass and fur around his limbs stopping a second behind his muscles.
”It has not been a week”, his voice rasped past the fangs.
The woman had to gather her wits for a few seconds, but she did not shrink, on the contrary.
”I have come to take my father’s place”, she said with a shaky voice. ”I had to leave early, in secret - he wouldn’t have let me come.”
”You have brought the rose”, his voice was a quiet rumble, when he lowered his eyes to look at it. The flower looked exactly the same as it had, when the man had plucked it.
”Yes”, the woman said and lowered the hand clutching it from beside her chest. She looked as if she didn’t know whether to try and bring it over to him. But it would've been too much, she was still too afraid - perhaps repulsed. ”This was my doing. I’m the culprit. My father only wanted to make me happy.”
To make her happy. It was difficult to remember, what that would mean. Even more difficult to remember what it would feel like.
”I am to blame. Which is why I’ve come to take his place.” She was swallowing, hard.
How curious, that she hadn’t yet run away. She was standing right there - very small, compared to him, her head turned slightly to the side, so she wasn’t looking back at him straight on. Beast took a step closer, just to see her a little better, and finally she shut her eyes, wincing, as if he had just lunged towards her and not taken a tentative step closer from the other side of the hall. Afraid, she tightly clutched his eyes shut. What did she think he would do? Beast could hear her pulse, dancing rhythmically on top of her skin, though he tried not to listen. He didn’t want to hear. He didn't want to be able to.
Beast sighed, and this time it came out as he intended it to, as weary.
”Why didn’t you bring the town with you?” he huffed out, stepping heavily to the side, away from her.
Her head turned to face him, now, taken by surprise. She frowned.
”Why?” she asked, without understanding.
”Why didn’t you bring them to free you?” he sounded irritated, and there was agitation in his heavy movement. For a moment she hesitated.
”Would that have freed me?” she asked. Beast gnarled in frustration, and it wasn’t loud, but she jumped, startled.
”No matter”, he said forcefully. ”You’re free.”
”Free? But… my father made an oath”, she said, her tone first faltering, then starting to match that of his. ”Please, just do it quickly. And please don’t… please don’t eat me, after, I beg of you.”
Beast growled: it sounded like distant thunder. She was egging him on— to kill her? And eat her? That was not in his nature, whatever it now was.
”No”, he bellowed. ”Go away.” He continued the corridor towards the dining room, deciding to leave it behind him - deciding to forget, like he had almost everything else. She would go. He could forget. Despite the shame, which would fade from memory completely.
But her steps didn’t sound against the floor. The door didn’t creak on it’s hinges when she reopened it. No, behind him, she was standing still. And then the steps suddenly followed him, briskly.
”Why would you do that, then?” she asked. ”Why would you scare my father that way? He was beside himself when he came home! He wouldn’t stop crying and apologizing!”
Beast huffed for an answer, only a little bit guilty. She sped up so that she could stop to stand in his way, her legs parted, parking herself there, body leaning towards him. Towards him and not away.
”Why would you ruin our life that way?” she demanded. ”Just to say it was nothing!”
He hadn’t thought of anything, was the answer. Nothing, except his own misery, his own loneliness. His only remaining link to anything that meant anything to him, the roses.
But why would he have to explain himself to her? Wasn’t his suffering enough, enough penance for anything? He wasn’t even acquinted enough with words and speaking after so many years to try and explain.
”Leave”, he said.
”No”, she answered.
What a headstrong girl.
”I don’t want you here.”
”Well, I’m not wanted back either. So you will suffer me.”
”You are young and… beautiful”, he said, large tongue twisting in his mouth around the word. It was almost a task, and his breathing through the small slits of a nose was laboured. ”They will want you back.”
”No, they don’t. My sisters at least are glad to be rid of me.”
How positively infuriating she was.
”You would gladly accept death?” he asked raising his voice. It bellowed in the hall and she shivered.
”Yes”, her voice was smaller.
”You shall not get it from me. Go. Away.” And he pushed past her. What reason had she to be done with life, anyway? That young, that able and charming, life was not done with her. She was a fool not to see it.
”Fine. Just show me where I can sleep and eat. I’ll stay out of your way.”
Beast roared, making her flinch.
”No, you will not stay here!”
”My father made an oath—”
”I will not have you staying here, disrupting my peace—”
”You were the one who disrupted our peace—”
”—and looking at me like—”
Now it was Beast who cut himself short. Looking at him, as if he was...
But he was a monster. He would always be a monster, whether anyone looked at him or not. No point in saying something that deluded aloud.
It was just that most of the time he did not have to see the truth so clearly, looking back at him from someone else's eyes.
The girl did not talk over the silence, though she had clearly expected to go on. There was some kind of recognition in her brown eyes. Oh, her mouth said wordlessly.
Beast loathed it, whatever it meant.
The monster pushed past her.
Easily, too easily, the mind slipped back into nothingness, into barely-consciousness. She did not try to follow him, but spoke.
”You wish the villagers would come? They will, if I stay. My father will get them to come."
But the monster wouldn’t say anything more. Stay or leave, it would have nothing to do with him. The business was done. He would keep haunting the halls, halls that were once his, but now belonged to no one, as he had no ownership. Not even of his body. She could stay or go, it would not save him, that much was clear.
He nearly had no time to escape, so he retreated up the stairs, listening. The stranger was in a haste: they jumped down the horse and ran up the steps, ran all the way inside, too, a little out of breath.
”Hello?” a voice echoed in the hall. It was a girl’s voice, young and innocent, a little shaky, scared. A kind of voice the walls didn’t recognise. The hollering was more intentional than any that had sounded before it, it meant to address someone specifically: meant to address Beast. ”Hello? I’ve come - I’ve come to take my father’s place.”
It took a little time to understand the words. Their father’s place. Beast remembered. The old man with six children, the thief. The girl was indeed addressing him.
It hadn’t truly ever crossed his mind, that she might come - and how many days had it been? He had given the man a week - it was barely five days, the fifth day turning into a cold night soon.
”Hello?”
Calling again, the voice sounded frustrated, possibly for having to be kept waiting.
Heavily, he moved.
He was the one scared.
She would be terrified, he was sure, she would scream and run away and somehow his loneliness would feel even worse. It was one rose - one rose that the enchantress would never come back for, anyway. He should have let her have it. But he would send her home, he would let her run away. What would he even do with a girl?
Heavily, feet dragging, every step making a weightful sound against the marbled stone, he began to ascend. Dragging along the body that was in no way his own, but which he could not rid; the effort solicited a low rumble from deep inside his chest. It echoed in the staircase, in the hall. Filling the space with a threat that would tremble inside one’s breastbone, rattle the ribcage.
He wouldn’t have heard if the girl had turned and ran away, not from under the noise his ascension made. But when the shadow in front of him on the wall finally moved to walk alongside him, when he reached the turn and could see to the dark hall with his small eyes, there she was, in the dusty dark, standing completely still, looking frightened but brave.
Not a little girl at all, but a young woman; and she was beautiful. Seeing him now, her big eyes widened — her skin had paled; it was white compared to her windswept chestnut hair, though despite it she was positively vivid in the bare hall. As vivid as the red rose she clutched against her chest, which was clad in a plain blue travelling coat.
Even afraid, she looked determined, red lips pursed. Somehow the look was both noble and defiant like a child's. Nonetheless, she would not have looked out of place on a battlefield.
It was true: Beast would have whimpered and coiled in shame if he could’ve, for he was undeniably afraid of stepping in front of such a creature. Of being seen by someone so humanly perfect. But fear would have been too much like a human emotion, something sympathetic, and so it was against the fibre of his new being that the enchantress had crafted. Thus, somewhere along the way from reaction into being his whimper turned into a low growl.
When he reached the lower floor, she finally took an unsure reactional step back, half a step. Beast halted, all the mass and fur around his limbs stopping a second behind his muscles.
”It has not been a week”, his voice rasped past the fangs.
The woman had to gather her wits for a few seconds, but she did not shrink, on the contrary.
”I have come to take my father’s place”, she said with a shaky voice. ”I had to leave early, in secret - he wouldn’t have let me come.”
”You have brought the rose”, his voice was a quiet rumble, when he lowered his eyes to look at it. The flower looked exactly the same as it had, when the man had plucked it.
”Yes”, the woman said and lowered the hand clutching it from beside her chest. She looked as if she didn’t know whether to try and bring it over to him. But it would've been too much, she was still too afraid - perhaps repulsed. ”This was my doing. I’m the culprit. My father only wanted to make me happy.”
To make her happy. It was difficult to remember, what that would mean. Even more difficult to remember what it would feel like.
”I am to blame. Which is why I’ve come to take his place.” She was swallowing, hard.
How curious, that she hadn’t yet run away. She was standing right there - very small, compared to him, her head turned slightly to the side, so she wasn’t looking back at him straight on. Beast took a step closer, just to see her a little better, and finally she shut her eyes, wincing, as if he had just lunged towards her and not taken a tentative step closer from the other side of the hall. Afraid, she tightly clutched his eyes shut. What did she think he would do? Beast could hear her pulse, dancing rhythmically on top of her skin, though he tried not to listen. He didn’t want to hear. He didn't want to be able to.
Beast sighed, and this time it came out as he intended it to, as weary.
”Why didn’t you bring the town with you?” he huffed out, stepping heavily to the side, away from her.
Her head turned to face him, now, taken by surprise. She frowned.
”Why?” she asked, without understanding.
”Why didn’t you bring them to free you?” he sounded irritated, and there was agitation in his heavy movement. For a moment she hesitated.
”Would that have freed me?” she asked. Beast gnarled in frustration, and it wasn’t loud, but she jumped, startled.
”No matter”, he said forcefully. ”You’re free.”
”Free? But… my father made an oath”, she said, her tone first faltering, then starting to match that of his. ”Please, just do it quickly. And please don’t… please don’t eat me, after, I beg of you.”
Beast growled: it sounded like distant thunder. She was egging him on— to kill her? And eat her? That was not in his nature, whatever it now was.
”No”, he bellowed. ”Go away.” He continued the corridor towards the dining room, deciding to leave it behind him - deciding to forget, like he had almost everything else. She would go. He could forget. Despite the shame, which would fade from memory completely.
But her steps didn’t sound against the floor. The door didn’t creak on it’s hinges when she reopened it. No, behind him, she was standing still. And then the steps suddenly followed him, briskly.
”Why would you do that, then?” she asked. ”Why would you scare my father that way? He was beside himself when he came home! He wouldn’t stop crying and apologizing!”
Beast huffed for an answer, only a little bit guilty. She sped up so that she could stop to stand in his way, her legs parted, parking herself there, body leaning towards him. Towards him and not away.
”Why would you ruin our life that way?” she demanded. ”Just to say it was nothing!”
He hadn’t thought of anything, was the answer. Nothing, except his own misery, his own loneliness. His only remaining link to anything that meant anything to him, the roses.
But why would he have to explain himself to her? Wasn’t his suffering enough, enough penance for anything? He wasn’t even acquinted enough with words and speaking after so many years to try and explain.
”Leave”, he said.
”No”, she answered.
What a headstrong girl.
”I don’t want you here.”
”Well, I’m not wanted back either. So you will suffer me.”
”You are young and… beautiful”, he said, large tongue twisting in his mouth around the word. It was almost a task, and his breathing through the small slits of a nose was laboured. ”They will want you back.”
”No, they don’t. My sisters at least are glad to be rid of me.”
How positively infuriating she was.
”You would gladly accept death?” he asked raising his voice. It bellowed in the hall and she shivered.
”Yes”, her voice was smaller.
”You shall not get it from me. Go. Away.” And he pushed past her. What reason had she to be done with life, anyway? That young, that able and charming, life was not done with her. She was a fool not to see it.
”Fine. Just show me where I can sleep and eat. I’ll stay out of your way.”
Beast roared, making her flinch.
”No, you will not stay here!”
”My father made an oath—”
”I will not have you staying here, disrupting my peace—”
”You were the one who disrupted our peace—”
”—and looking at me like—”
Now it was Beast who cut himself short. Looking at him, as if he was...
But he was a monster. He would always be a monster, whether anyone looked at him or not. No point in saying something that deluded aloud.
It was just that most of the time he did not have to see the truth so clearly, looking back at him from someone else's eyes.
The girl did not talk over the silence, though she had clearly expected to go on. There was some kind of recognition in her brown eyes. Oh, her mouth said wordlessly.
Beast loathed it, whatever it meant.
The monster pushed past her.
Easily, too easily, the mind slipped back into nothingness, into barely-consciousness. She did not try to follow him, but spoke.
”You wish the villagers would come? They will, if I stay. My father will get them to come."
But the monster wouldn’t say anything more. Stay or leave, it would have nothing to do with him. The business was done. He would keep haunting the halls, halls that were once his, but now belonged to no one, as he had no ownership. Not even of his body. She could stay or go, it would not save him, that much was clear.