Chapter 1: Jeanne
Chapter Text
I said in my heart, It is thus with the children of men, that God may prove them, and that they should see that they themselves are but beasts. For what befalls the children of men befalls beasts; even one thing befalls them: as the one dies, so dies the other, and they have all one breath; and man has no pre-eminence above the beast: for all is vanity. - Ecclesiastes 3:18-19
December 1st, 2042
There was no better way to begin the holiday season than a ball, Guillemette decided. Something about such a party felt like it was made for the season of joy: the conversations, the laughter, the dancing, she couldn't quite place exactly what it was. Only the most reserved person would find themselves not having a good time, and even then all they needed was the right person to enjoy the party with. Despite being somewhat reserved herself, Guillemette loved balls. She enjoyed the chance to talk to people and learn what their lives were like. Her lot in life didn't afford her such opportunities often, and she relished every minute of it.
Which made the fact that she wasn't there now all the more jarring. Guillemette, or as she preferred to be called 'Jeanne', lurked in one of the corridors furthest from the ball, heading towards the back of the castle discretely. Slung across her back was a rather large duffle bag, packed with everything she needed for as long as she would be gone. Jeanne didn't know how long that was, but she hoped to be home by Christmas. It was only a distant hope, given how long this threat to her country had been around, but hope, nonetheless. She didn't mind that much if she missed Christmas, though. She couldn’t just sit by and do nothing unlike everyone else.
Frankly, Jeanne was shocked that entire towns of people going missing didn't incite more panic, nor did mysterious reports of objects falling from the sky. Her father dismissed those stories as just that: stories, hoaxes, the ravings of lunatics. It sounded like one of those conspiracy theories that UFO 'truthers' often peddled. A few months ago, Jeanne would have agreed with him. She liked to think of herself as a practical, rational person. She was not one to be easily swayed by unreliable rumors and tall tales. But everything that had happened was too much even for her. Too many people with the same story, too many witnesses to be dismissed, too few people caring enough to look deeper into the problem. So, Jeanne had made up her mind. Her bag was packed with printouts of each incident report, every interview she could find that was remotely related, she'd even taken a few books from the library. Jeanne also had packed food, water, clothes, and, on a whim, a strand of Christmas lights and a small generator. If she couldn't get the truth here, she was going to find it out there.
"Jeanne! Where're you going?"
Turning around, she looked down the corridor to find her two younger siblings running towards her. Stopping just before her, her brother Antoine caught his breath before exclaiming, "What're doing up here? You're missing the ball!" He was a tall young man about three years younger than Jeanne, with golden blond hair and light blue eyes. Strong and athletic, he exercised that athleticism by doing multiple sports, such as football, archery, and fencing. Despite his drive on the field, Antoine was the most laid-back of the three siblings otherwise, willing to have a good time but more than a little adverse to his responsibilities.
"C'mon, sis! Papa has a big announcement later tonight, I don't wanna miss it!” Juliette, their younger sister, whined. With her dark brown hair and large green eyes, she had a more innocent appearance than her brother and sister. Don't let that fool you, though: she was the most precocious of the three. At only twelve years old, she was already reading at a level that typically fifteen-year-olds did. Juliette, however, was still a child in many ways; at the moment she was glaring at her older sister with a pouting expression.
"I'm just, um...taking this stuff down to the stables! Don't worry, I'll be back soon!" Jeanne lied.
"I don't think so," Antoine replied, heading behind Jeanne and rifling through the duffle.
"Get out of there!" the latter scolded, trying to swat him away. "That's my stuff!"
"But these aren't!" he retorted, pulling out a stack of papers. Pulling her brother in front of her, Jeanne saw that he had found the incident report printouts, and was scanning them quickly for their contents. Looking up, he rolled his eyes and groaned, "Really sis? You're taking these loonies seriously?"
"They might not be loonies!" Jeanne retorted. "Doesn't it strike you as a little odd that all those people are saying the same thing? Saw the same thing?"
"Oh come on, Jeanne! People disappearing? Objects falling from the sky? There's probably just something weird in their water, nothing else!"
"But what if it's not? Look, I have to find out what's going on, but I can't find that out here. I need to go out there, where all the answers are. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a horse to saddle up." She began grabbing her things, but as she reached up to put something in her bag, her left sleeve slid down, revealing a dark, heavy, metallic cuff. A row of numbers was blinking in neon green across the front, like a watch that hadn't been set. It displayed today's date, December 1st, 2042, and the current time, 8:17 pm.
Juliette, recognizing the cuff, gasped and grabbed Jeanne's wrist. She glared at her sister and said accusingly, "You stole from Mama's room?"
"I didn't steal it from Mama's lab, I'm just borrowing it! Big difference!" Jeanne had only meant to go into their mother's laboratory to see if any of her old inventions could help her. She didn't find anything useful, much to her dismay, but something about the cuff was intriguing. Their mother had spent the last ten years of her life working on it, up until the day she died. Jeanne had only been eleven years old when that happened, and their mother's lab had been sealed up since by their father. Luckily, Jeanne knew where he kept the key, and it had been easy enough to get inside. On a whim, she had taken the cuff, thinking that it had some purpose, and maybe she could figure out what it was.
"Papa will be so mad at you when he finds out!" Juliette continued.
"So don't tell him!" Jeanne argued. Sighing, she took a deep breath before continuing. She didn't want to leave her brother and sister like this. Kneeling down, she looked Juliette in the eye and grabbed her and their brother's hand before saying, "Look, I don't expect you two to completely understand, but I'm the eldest. It's gonna be my job to look after all of us, hopefully far off into the future, but I digress. I'm going to be responsible for keeping everyone safe, including you guys. I can't do that if I know there's something out there, threatening everyone and making things not safe. And if no one else is gonna do it, then it's up to me."
Juliette was silent for a moment, her sniffling the only sound she made. She suddenly threw her arms around Jeanne's neck, hugging her tight. "You'll be back by Christmas, right?" she whimpered.
"I promise, I'll be back by then." Jeanne replied.
Antoine gave Jeanne a look, but knelt down and hugged her too. "Good, 'cause we'll find you and drag your butt back ourselves if you don't." Juliette giggled, her mood lightened slightly by her brother's threat. He added a second later, "Why don't you just take a car?"
"The computer systems. They can be tracked. I'll be more incognito on a horse."
"You taking Faust?"
"Was it really up for debate?"
"Nah. He's a great horse, I'm sure you'll be fine." Antoine pulled back from his sisters and grabbed Juliette's hand. "We mean it, sis. You better be home soon."
"I will," Jeanne replied, hoisting her duffle back onto her shoulder. "I'll see you guys again soon." Her siblings were already heading down the corridor towards the party.
"Good luck!" Juliette called, waving back at her sister.
"You'll need it!" Antoine added.
Jeanne waved back, and headed down to the stables. Reaching them, she went over to Faust, a large blue roan stallion, and began saddling him up. While he was one of the younger horses in the stable, he was also one of the bravest. Before he was Jeanne's horse, her father broke him in by taking him on hunts, chasing big European game. Faust wasn't afraid of anything; he'd fought wolves with his bare hooves and snapped his teeth at bears to protect his master. He hadn't lost any of that fighting spirit when he'd become Jeanne's horse, and she was glad to have him as a personal mount.
Tightening her bag against his back, she led him by the reins to the stable doors, opening them manually. Using the push-button would have alerted the palace staff that someone was opening the doors, and she'd have been caught. Shoving against the door with her shoulder, Jeanne fought back against the fierce winter winds outside. The first snowstorm of December was blowing in, and already the doors were icing over. After leaving the warmth of the stable, Jeanne hopped onto Faust's back and trotted into the woods, hunching down against the wind.
Snowflakes fell steadily around them, and on the horizon flashes of lighting could be seen, but she pressed on, determined to get her answers.
A couple of hours later, Jeanne began to feel a strange sense of foreboding. It wasn't quite a shiver down her spine, nor the hairs standing on the back of her neck, but something else. It was almost a strange sense of dread, like something very bad was about to happen. It felt akin to the agitation she felt when she was being watched. It might have just been the cold; she was starting to feel the beginnings of frostbite and knew she should seek shelter soon. But it might not have been. Pulling Faust's reins to the left, Jeanne turned to look back at the castle.
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Antoine and Juliette didn't know how much longer they could do this. People had been asking about their sister for almost two hours now, and neither of them enjoyed lying about her. The two siblings had stuck together for most of the evening, which had helped. Despite the age and maturity gap, Antoine and Juliette were quite close as far as siblings went. It might have been because, since they had an older sister, they weren't expected to take on the responsibilities she had. Jeanne certainly had become harder to connect with as she aged, and now that she was an adult, her life was going to get even more complicated. This had meant that Antoine and Juliette had been mostly sidelined by their father, and sought each other out for company. They didn't blame their sister for the distance, she couldn't help who she was any more than they could. But it was still hard.
"Papa's going to make his announcement any time now!" Juliette quietly protested. "What are we gonna do?"
"I don't know," Antoine whispered back, "But we better think of something soon!"
At that moment, a hush fell over the crowd as their father stepped up to the podium, dressed in his most formal attire.
"We really could use a distraction right about now!" Antoine muttered.
Suddenly, all the lights in the castle slowly faded, and everything went dark.
The sound of protests could be heard rumbling through the crowd, confused and annoyed. Some people yelled about the lights going out, while others noted that the heat had also died. Since the castle furnace was on the same electrical circuit, it made sense that it would go out when the lights went out. Already, the temperature was starting to drop, and a chill could be felt settling in the ballroom. The crowd's complaints could be heard getting louder, and Antoine was worried that a fight would break out soon if the lights and heat didn't come back on.
Before that could happen, a rumbling sound rang out from above the ballroom, just above everyone's heads. The ballroom became dead silent, and people looked up in curiosity. There wasn't anything on the upper floors that could make such a sound, so both siblings were confused. There was also a quality to the sound that made it foreboding; it had almost sounded like a growl, like something alive had made it. Another growl came from above just then, louder this time. People began clutching each other's arms, dread turning the stomachs of everyone there.
"Antoine, what was that?" Juliette whimpered.
A rushing sound now could be heard overhead, and a cold breeze blew from above, chilling the ballroom further. Nervously, they both looked up.
And brick by brick, the roof of the castle was ripped off.
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Jeanne couldn't believe her eyes. Right before her, just a couple of kilometers away, the castle was being ripped apart and lifted up into the storm clouds above. Part of a tower was lifted away intact, only to be torn apart right before it disappeared high up in the air. Not only that, but Jeanne could see people being lifted up as well: she could hear their screams of confusion and fear over the roar of the storm. Everything that was being lifted up vanished once it reached the cloud just above the castle. It was like they were being raptured, only far worse.
Jeanne could feel her breathing turn shallow as she started hyperventilating, her eyes wide and panic filled. She nervously clawed at the horn on Faust's saddle, preparing to hang on in case he decided to bolt. Gripping the reins in her other hand, she slowly began turning her horse around and continued on, hoping to escape whatever was tearing her home apart.
Suddenly, it stopped. Nothing else was being lifted into the sky, and the only sound she could hear was the wailing of the winter wind. With bated breath, Jeanne looked back and took a closer look at the cloud above the castle, hoping to get a look at what had taken all those people. Clear as a bell, she heard a different kind of roar than that of the storm. This one sounded animalistic in nature almost, but what kind of animal could make that noise? It was followed by a series of clicking noises, like something hollow was expanding.
And then something moved out of the cloud.
She didn't stick around to see what it was. Jeanne had already turned the horse back around and started heading deeper into the woods, encouraging Faust to start trotting faster. Regrettably, she took one last look behind her to see if she could catch a glimpse of what had destroyed the castle. Jeanne briefly saw something white, something round, and something flying towards her at an aggressively fast speed. It was all the motivation she needed. With a sharp kick of her heels, Faust shot forward, galloping hard and fast like the devil was at his hooves. Snow was kicked up with each pound of each hoof, thrown behind him as they took off into the dark heart of the forest. Jeanne was so busy trying to outpace that thing that she didn't notice the numbers on her mother's bracelet going haywire, running through various dates and times at random. She also didn't notice the lighting had come closer, and was starting to leap between the clouds straight above her.
Before she could notice any of this, Jeanne was suddenly yanked backwards into the air. Screaming, she flailed and tried to grab Faust's reins, but missed. The horse was seized into the air right behind her, whinnying and kicking his hooves frantically. Jeanne's ears popped as the air pressure lowered, her vision whitened out by the snow being lifted right along with her. The sky around her grew dark as the thing's shadow closed in around her, and the air turned even colder. Desperately, Jeanne reached out her left arm out, as if trying to grasp one last chance at freedom.
A bolt of lightning shot out from the sky just then, striking Jeanne's arm and branching off. The branches leapt in front of her and behind her, and her world went black.
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December 1st, 1742
The fact that a storm had swept through last night didn't deter Belle from a ride through the woods. In her opinion, the world looked especially beautiful while blanketed in fresh-fallen snow. It was December snow, Christmas snow. There was no better way to begin the holiday season than a horseback ride through the first snowfall. It hadn't taken much to convince Adam to come with her, riding his own horse.
At the moment, the two of them were racing through the Black Forest, though now it wasn't as foreboding as it had been last Christmas. Belle couldn't imagine how her life could get any better than it was right now. The enchantment was broken; she had a wonderful husband that was also a prince, making her a princess; a father that loved her just as she was; an entire castle of people that she considered her family. Everything was right in her world, and she was determined to have it stay that way.
"Come on, Adam, keep up!" Belle laughed, racing ahead of the prince as she rode Philippe. Despite the chill of the season, she felt nice and warm due to the well-made winter clothes she wore, including her riding gown.
"Oh I can keep up just fine!" Adam teased, flying past Belle as his horse shot past her. "Maybe you're the one that's going too slow?"
"Really? You think this is slow? Maybe I should pick up the pace then," Belle taunted, flicking her reins so Philippe overtook Adam's horse yet again.
The two lovers continued their jaunt through the forest, observing the newly fallen snow that enveloped the trees in soft white coats. The sound of birds that had stayed for the winter sang out into the woods, their soft song contrasting the fast-paced tempo of racing hooves. As far as either Adam or Belle knew, they were the only ones out enjoying this winter wonderland.
As far as they knew, anyway. After a while, the bird song came to a stop, and slowing down their horses for a break, they soon noticed how eerily silent the forest had become.
"Well that's a little odd," Belle commented.
"What is?"
"It's quiet, Adam, almost...too quiet. Where are all the birds? Where's the breeze?" She brought Philippe in a tight circle around the clearing they had stopped in, looking around the trees curiously. "Something's different, it almost feels like - "
Just then, a horse burst through the clearing both riders were in, sprinting as if it were being chased by wolves. Whinnying loudly and thrashing its head around, it kicked its hooves erratically and in a blind panic. Something had clearly spooked the horse; it was so badly shaken that Adam could see it foaming at the mouth. With wild eyes, the horse tore towards the two riders.
"Belle!" Adam shouted, lunging forward and yanking Phillipe's reins back just as the strange horse flew past them.
"It's all right, Adam! I'm fine." Belle reassured him. She watched the horse as it bolted out of the clearing and into the woods, in the opposite direction it had come from.
"Did you see that horse?" Adam asked.
"Of course I did! Poor thing acted like he saw a ghost," Belle answered.
"Not that, I mean...there was a saddle on its back, and a bridle on its head, but no rider. Where's his rider?"
Belle fell silent at that, realizing that there must be some poor soul nearby that had lost his or her horse, and was surely freezing. Turning to the direction the mysterious horse had come from, she began trotting that way. Adam followed her, and they both followed the chaotic set of hoofprints that had churned up the snow.
Eventually, they came to a meadow not far from the pond, where they were greeted with a very strange sight. A tree had been split in half, most likely from a lightning strike from last night, and was black and charred. At its base, a person lay face-down in the snow, lying far too still for someone still among the living. Belle and Adam initially guessed that it was a man, given the dark trousers and matching coat they wore. However, upon coming closer, the two lovers could see that it was a woman, much to their surprise. She had mid-length hair that was caked with too much ice for its color to be made out, but it appeared to be dark. Dismounting from Philippe, Belle crept up to the woman and rolled her onto her side. To the princess's further shock, the woman looked to be her own age at most, most likely a year or two younger than her and Adam. There was a cut on her head, which was bleeding steadily. Thankfully, the cold seemed to have slowed down the bleeding. Judging by the small cloud of air puffing from her slightly parted lips, and their blue tint, the woman was still alive. But she wouldn't be much longer if left out in this cold.
"What happened to her?" Belle gasped, stunned at the state of the strange woman in the snow. "What could have done this?"
Adam didn't answer her at first, too busy combing the rest of the meadow for clues. There was a large, unusual-looking bag resting in the snow not far from the woman. It wasn't built in a way he would have recognized; the material and design were foreign to him. It was also buried halfway into the snow, despite the snow itself not being that deep. He surmised, therefore, that the bag must have fallen from a great height before landing there.
A strange sound was heard just then. It was strange principally because it seemed to come from the sky. But there was another quality to it that made it strange. Adam and Belle looked up at the source of the sound, but saw nothing but late morning clouds drifting lazily across the sky. It sounded like the wind at first, but there was something off about it. It sounded too loud for how high up it was. The wind also wasn't supposed to move erratically across the sky; one moment it was heard towards the horizon, the next like it was right where the sun's zenith was in the summer. But if it wasn't the wind, what was it?
The strange sound suddenly fell silent.
"What do you suppose that was?" Adam asked.
"I don't know, Adam, but I don't like how quickly it stopped."
Just then, a louder, much closer sound could be heard. The sound of ice breaking as something crashed through it. Darting through the trees, Adam reached the frozen and still pond, which wouldn't remain that way for much longer. To his shock, he could see bricks raining down from the sky, hitting the icy surface of the pond with a great crash and sinking to its bottom. Even stranger, they weren't just free falling, they looked like they had been thrown from the sky with great force. Other objects falling around him, some of which he recognized: silver serving platters, shattered wine glasses, butter knives, broken pieces of wood that he recognized as once belonging to chairs and tables. There were other things he didn't recognize, but those didn't draw his eye. It was the third category of items that most disturbed him. They were bits and pieces of clothing; shoes, belts, jackets, that sort of thing. But most of them were torn, and even worse, had splatters of blood on them.
"ADAM!" Belle shouted, sounding more than a little scared.
The prince hurried back to the meadow, where he saw Belle struggling to pull the woman out of the snow and into the shelter of the trees. He ran over and helped her, until all three people were safely under the pines, two of them watching the strange rainfall around them. Belle, in the meanwhile, had continued looking over the strange woman they'd found. Lifting up her left arm, she could see that it had been burned up to the elbow. It didn't look too severe, thankfully. Despite being red and blistered, Belle suspected that it would heal up within a couple of weeks at most. There was also an unusual black bracelet on her wrist, giving off whisps of smoke. What did this mean?
There was a dull thud somewhere to their right, and looking that way, Belle and Adam saw a buck that had fallen over dead. The cause of death was easy to see; something round and heavy had collided with its head, and blood was starting to drip down from the left eye socket. The mystery object was golden colored, and had tines on the bottom that all pointed one way. Some of the gold had been dissolved off, though, exposing the cold grey metal beneath it in macabre splotches. There were also gemstones inlaid into the ornately carved metal. Looking closer, Adam recoiled when he recognized the object.
It was his father's crown. Soon to be his own crown.
The sound of raining objects stopped. Looking out from under the trees, Adam and Belle looked up at the sky, and were startled by one final sound.
The birds had started singing again.
Chapter 2: Adam
Notes:
Just a quick note before the chapter - Jean Jacket is NOT called Jean Jacket here. There's no horse named Jean Jacket in any of the characters' backstories, so I had to find something different. It's a bit odd, but will (hopefully!) make sense.
Happy reading!
Chapter Text
December 1st, 1742
It had taken more than a little effort to bring her back to the castle unnoticed. Adam had been forced to remove his cloak and throw it over the strange woman’s body, explaining to the stable hands that he had bagged a deer while he and Belle were out. It wasn’t a terribly good lie, the prince wasn’t as into hunting as some of his predecessors had been. Still, it did the job, and he and Belle were able to sneak the woman into one of the spare guest rooms. The servants were under strict instructions not to go into that room, but it was only a matter of time before someone found out. Which was the reason for the discussion the two royals were having now.
“We can’t send for the physician yet, Belle! What are we supposed to tell him?”
“We wouldn’t have to lie about anything, Adam! Just that we found her in the snow, she was out there for hours, and she’s hurt! There’s nothing to hide about her!”
“But what if there is? You saw and heard the same things I did! What if she’s connected to all this somehow! The fewer people that know about her, the better. People could get the wrong ideas and start to panic!”
“You don’t know that she has anything to do with what we saw! Besides, that’s not important currently. At this moment, there’s a young lady in that room, hurt, cold, and probably scared out of her wits right now! We found her, so it’s our job to help her!”
“I never said it wasn’t! Look, maybe we should just - ”
Just then, one of the doors to the guest room slowly creaked open, and the young woman, awake and alert, poked her head out into the hall. Adam and Belle both turned to look at her, surprised that she had woken up so soon.
In a hoarse whisper, the strange woman said, “Excuse me, but…could you please tell me where I am? Don’t worry, I won’t hurt either of you, not that I’m in much position to do so.”
Adam winced before replying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that you were a threat. It’s just that with everything else we saw today, it was…rather unnerving. I just want to keep my subjects safe.”
“I understand, you don’t have to apologize for anything,” the woman replied.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed!” Belle exclaimed, walking briskly into the room and guiding the woman back to said bed. “Here, lie back down and you can tell us what you remember.”
“But I feel fine,” the woman protested. “Honestly, I feel like I’ve slept for over a year. And I still need answers!”
“And you’ll have them,” Belle reassured the woman, “once you’re feeling better. You hurt yourself pretty badly out there.”
As all three of them went back into the room, Adam stopped in the doorway, stunned by what he was seeing. He hadn’t noticed it before, but with the ice melted out of her hair and her skin cleaned off, the odd woman bore a striking resemblance to Belle. They had the same dark brown hair, same face shape, eyes were roughly the same shape too, same skin tone. It was…uncanny.
The only visible differences he could spot were that Belle’s hair was slightly longer, while the stranger’s hair was cut so that it looked…neater, he guessed was the word? More orderly, he decided. Formal, almost, if it were brushed out from the messy tangle it was currently in. There was also the slight difference in height; the stranger was about five centimeters taller than Belle. And this was setting aside the obvious differences in clothing: Belle now wore her signature blue dress, while the stranger wore a long-sleeved shirt, odd stockings that clung to her skin, and thick woolen socks. Belle had taken the time to remove all the stranger’s outer clothing, soaked as it was from the snow (he had waited outside of course, to preserve the strange woman’s modesty), and the pants and jacket were hanging by the fireplace drying off. Overall though, if he had only first met both women, Adam would have sworn they were sisters at least.
Belle noticed that her husband had stopped and asked him, “Are you alright, Adam? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“You don’t see it?”
“See what?”
“Take a look at yourself in that mirror over there, and then look at her.”
Belle went and did that, and her eyes widened when she saw the resemblance. The stranger had done the same thing, and now both women were starting at each other in shock.
“This is weird,” the mysterious woman complained.
“That’s certainly one way to put it,” Belle agreed. “Though I don’t know how you missed the most obvious difference.”
“Which one?”
“Your eyes. Adam, look at them. There’s something unusual about them, almost like…I’ve seen those eyes before.”
The prince took a closer look at the stranger’s eyes, not seeing what Belle was seeing at first. They looked like regular human eyes, there was nothing foreign about them. In fact, he had to agree with Belle here: her eyes looked oddly familiar. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but the woman’s eyes struck a chord in him, like he’d known those eyes all his life. He just couldn’t for the life of him figure out where he’d seen them before.
The strange woman looked away just then and sat on the edge of the bed, hands resting palms down on the duvet. Seeing that getting her to rest again was pointless, Belle rolled her eyes and instead decided to keep talking to the woman. “So, what do you remember?”
“I’m pretty sure I asked you first,” the woman sassed back. “I’m not talking ‘til you two start talking.”
“You’re a stubborn one, you know that?” Belle replied with a smirk.
“I’ve had many people tell me it’s one of my best qualities.”
“Alright, this isn’t getting us anywhere,” Adam interrupted, sounding exasperated. “Can we at least have your name?”
“Jeanne. It’s Jeanne.”
“Fine, Jeanne. What is it you wanted to know?” the prince asked. Judging from the tone of his voice, his patient was wearing thin with the stranger, and while Belle may have been amused with her attitude, he certainly wasn’t.
“Well, ‘where am I?’ would be a good place to start,” Jeanne replied.
“My castle. You’re in France, in case you were wondering.”
“Oh I already knew I was in France, but thanks anyway. Wait,” Jeanne paused for a second, taking all this information in. “If you have a castle, doesn’t that make you a prince or something?”
“A reasonable conclusion.”
“But am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, Your Highness, pardon my lack of decorum earlier. I’ll be sure to remember it in the future.”
Adam looked quizzically at the young woman. Was this the same person backtalking his wife not two minutes ago?
As if reading the prince’s mind, Jeanne replied, “I may be obstinate, but don’t assume that I don’t know my manners as well.” She followed up with the explanation, “I had a good education.”
Jeanne then stopped talking, realizing that something was wrong. France had its fair share of castles, but only one that would be occupied by a prince. And that one was –
She suddenly got up from the bed and began walking around the room, hoping that the theory she was forming turned out to not be true. As Jeanne took in all the details, the bed, the curtains, the furniture and carpeting, she realized that she’d been here before. This was exactly like on the guest chambers in the castle back home! But that didn’t make sense, the castle had been destroyed last time she’d seen it. She couldn’t possibly be there right now. But Jeanne’s eyes weren’t betraying her, this room was indeed the same as the room in her home.
As she took things in further though, Jeanne realized that there were more than a few details that were different. Bending down to look near the floor, she saw that there were no electrical outlets, or phone jacks, or outlets of any kind really. This surprised her; the castle had had electricity for decades by now. In addition, the curtains were wrong. This type of curtain had fallen out of style centuries ago. Jeanne was more likely to see this in a textbook that in a window. Getting back to the lack of electricity, Jeanne also noticed that there were no overhead lights in the room. The only light source that she could see came from a candle burning steadily on the bedside table. The curtains from earlier were drawn back, allowing the late morning sunlight to flood the room. Perhaps the candle was lit since the back of the room remained dark?
It was at that moment that Jeanne spotted a bookshelf on the far wall that she had missed. It had caught her attention because there was one book on the top shelf that looked familiar. It was bound in string, and was more a collection of pages than a book, but that didn’t matter. Going over to the shelf, she picked up the book and began gingerly thumbing through it. Across the room, Adam started to head Jeanne’s way, most likely to take the book away from her, but Belle put a hand on his arm to stop him. Jeanne wasn’t damaging the book by looking at it, and who was she to stop someone from reading a good story?
Meanwhile, Jeanne flipped through the book’s pages, her eyes widening as she recognized the drawings and story. Back home, this book was considered priceless, an ancestral relic of the royal family. It was a storybook that Queen Belle, from the mid-18th century, had written for her husband King Adam as a Christmas gift. This was the same King Adam that had spent ten years of his life cursed to be a Beast, the result of an enchantment that affected the entire castle and servants. Jeanne remembered the story well: Prince Adam, as he was known back then, had no love in his heart, and had been cursed when he denied a beggar woman shelter. She’d turned out to be an enchantress, and for the next decade he was cursed to be a Beast. Only by earning another’s love could the spell be broken. Queen Belle, who had originally been a peasant woman, had taught the Beast how to love again, and had in turn grown to love him. So the spell was broken, and the Beast became a prince once more. By far, they were the most beloved rulers in the monarchy’s history, and everyone in the castle was taught the story at some point.
So it confirmed it, then: this was the castle back home, intact somehow. Queen Belle’s book proved it. What threw Jeanne for a loop was that the book looked so new. Despite the great efforts taken to preserve it, the book definitely showed signs of its age normally. Faded text, pages curling at the corners, at one point the strings tying it together had to be replaced. But this book looked pristine. Why?
“Excuse me,” Jeanne asked, “How old is this book?”
“I wrote it just last year,” Belle replied, “Why do you ask?”
Jeanne could feel her heart racing in her chest, and Belle’s voice grew quieter as her ears began ringing. This couldn’t be happening. This cannot be real. This had to all be a dream. Any minute now, she was going to wake up in her own bed in her own castle that was definitely in her own time and she was going to see her own family and –
Jeanne clutched her head, feeling dizzy. This wasn’t real. None of it was.
Belle rushed forward, grabbing Jeanne’s arm and leading her away from the bookcase. “That’s it. You need to rest. Let’s get you back to bed.”
“Your name.”
“Sorry?”
“You never told me your names.”
Belle blushed, realizing her and Adam had forgotten their manners. “I’m Belle, this is my husband Adam.” Jeanne’s eyes widened and her face paled. From the other side of the room, the prince looked quizzically at the young woman, wondering why hearing their names was enough for her to act like this.
Jeanne didn’t hear much after that, because that last statement resulted in her passing out.
___________________________________________________________________________________
“Well, let’s try this again.”
Jeanne had come to only ten minutes later, disoriented and shocked. Belle and Adam were more than a little concerned by her reaction at hearing their names, and wanted an explanation. After getting her a glass of water, brought by one of the maids, Jeanne had calmed down enough to keep talking.
“Sure, let’s do that,” Jeanne agreed with Adam, “but you’re not gonna like, or even believe, what I’m gonna say.”
“Why are you so sure of that?” Belle asked.
“You’ll see why. First of all, I just wanted to confirm:” she addressed Adam for this part, “You are the same Prince Adam that spent ten years cursed to be a Beast because there was no love in your heart, along with your servants, and castle, also being cursed, and the curse would only be broken if you could get someone to love you?”
Adam visibly tensed at the question while Belle stared wide-eyed. After an uncomfortable silence, Adam finally answered, “Yes, I’m that Adam. But you shouldn’t know that! No one outside the castle should know that!”
“That’s because I’m not from outside the castle, technically speaking.”
“What do you mean?” Belle questioned. “Neither of us has seen you before, and I’m sure I would have remembered you if you were one of the servants.”
“This is the part I don’t think you’ll believe. You see,” she took a deep breath before continuing, “I’m from this castle, but not this version of it. I came from the version of the castle…that exists 300 years in the future.”
The silence that followed in the room was so still that you could hear a pin drop. Eventually, Adam replied to Jeanne with, “You’re right, I don’t believe you.”
“Well I do,” Belle countered.
“Belle, doesn’t this sound a little far-fetched? Come on, have you ever heard of someone coming from the future before?”
“No, but I know that magic exists. I know enchantments exist. You and I know better than most people that it’s real! If that kind of magic can exist, why not magic that allows someone to travel through time?”
“You know, now that you said it out loud, you have a fair point.” Jeanne agreed. “With all due respect, Your Highness, this is an odd place to draw the line of believability.”
Adam rolled his eyes and replied sarcastically, “Well excuse me for not immediately taking the word of someone I’ve just met!”
“Adam!” Belle exclaimed.
“How about proof then? Would that satisfy you?” Jeanne asked.
The prince looked skeptically at her and replied, “It depends on the kind of proof. What were you thinking?”
“Where you found me, did you see anything there that confused you? Perhaps an item or two that you didn’t recognize?”
Belle was the one that answered this time, “Actually, there was. Adam, didn’t you find a crown out in the woods? You seemed to recognize it.”
Adam reluctantly admitted, “Yes, I did find a crown. It looked like my father’s. But that can’t be right! It’s still here in the palace.”
“Why don’t you bring both crowns here and we’ll compare them?”
Adam went and got his father’s crown, while Belle went and grabbed the crown they’d found in the woods. Placing them side by side on a nearby table, both royals compared the two crowns. Adam especially looked closer, to see if there was anything in particular Jeanne wanted to draw his eye to. After a few minutes, Adam looked up in shock.
“Adam, what is it?” Belle inquired.
“…They’re the same crown,” he muttered. “I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but they’re the same exact crown!”
“Exactly,” Jeanne confirmed. “Granted, the one you found near me looks older and more beat-up, but they’re the same!”
Adam was having a hard time denying the proof in front of him. The details matched too well, the sizes were too similar, he couldn’t find any significant differences that couldn’t be chalked up to age or wear. Reluctantly, he addressed Jeanne again, “Okay, let’s assume I believe you, that you really are from the future. How did you get here?”
“With this,” Jeanne rolled down her left sleeve, gingerly lifting it over the burnt skin and revealing the bracelet. “My mother made this. I didn’t know what it did for the longest time, but now I do.” Looking closer, she realized that it had been fried in places, and the numbers no longer showed up. Cursing, she slid the bracelet off her wrist and began frantically turning it over and over.
“What is it?” Belle asked her, concerned.
“I – I don’t know, I think it’s broken,” Jeanne replied, nervously looking closer at some of the components. Realizing that it wouldn’t work in this state, she set it down in resignation. “Well, looks like I’ll be here until it’s fixed. Looks like I’m not going home for a while.”
“I’m so sorry. I know it must be hard, wanting to go home but you can’t.” Belle consoled. Adam winced, a twinge of guilt touching his consciousness.
“If only I had some of my tools with…”
“Is there anything in here that would help?” Adam asked, trying to sweep the self-reproach he felt under the rug. He went over to the other side of the room and grabbed a familiar-looking bag.
“Yes! That’s perfect! Thank you for finding that!” Jeanne exclaimed, sounding relieved. “I’m sure I’ll be able to find something in there that’ll help.”
“Well that’s good!” Belle commented.
“So, um, it looks like I’ll be staying here for a while, if that’s all right with you two?”
“Of course, stay as long as you need.” Adam offered rather quickly. While he was still reluctant to trust this stranger that was in his home, he couldn’t help but feel bad for her a little. Here she was, displaced from her ‘real’ home and trapped in another century. In a strange way, Jeanne was a prisoner; if not of her body or a place, but of time itself.
If anyone other than Belle could empathize with the feeling of imprisonment, it was him.
___________________________________________________________________________________
December 5th, 1742
The cover story that everyone else in the castle was given was that Jeanne was a cousin of Belle’s. According to her, she’d come out to offer her congratulations to Belle for her marriage to Adam, but had been robbed on the way here. The story explained Jeanne’s strange resemblance to Belle, why she was hurt, and why she didn’t arrive with many things (supposedly; in reality, Jeanne had hidden her bag in her room. She didn’t want to arouse suspicion with its contents).
Much to her frustration, Jeanne found herself mostly confined to the guest room she was staying in. The door wasn’t locked or anything, so technically Jeanne could come and go as she pleased, but it was strongly suggested by both Adam and Belle that she didn’t. Belle’s reasoning for the suggestion was that Jeanne needed the time and quiet to recover from her injuries; Adam’s reasoning was that the less time Jeanne spent outside the room, the fewer chances there were for her secret to be discovered. Both reasons sort of made sense in Jeanne’s mind, but that didn’t satisfy her. Besides being stuck here, she was really curious to learn what the castle was like 300 years ago, how things worked around here. It couldn’t have hurt, certainly, not to do a little exploring when she wasn’t trying to repair the bracelet? But Jeanne listened to her hosts all the same. It has only been four days at this point, Right now, this was their home, not hers, which made her a guest. So, she respected their request despite not liking it one bit.
It did help that Adam and Belle weren’t the only ones visiting her. Some of the palace staff had been up to visit her, which made the time go by quicker. Mrs. Potts, for example, was the one that brought Jeanne’s meals up to her usually, including afternoon tea. Jeanne had quickly found the older woman to be a lovely conversationalist, and she soon found herself looking forward to her visits.
“So, I take it you and Belle were quite close growing up?” Mrs. Potts asked as she poured a cup of tea for Jeanne.
“Yes, we were,” Jeanne replied, “We both lived in the city when we were children, but our families left because of the plague.” Grabbing her cup of tea, she looked expectantly at Mrs. Potts, until asking, “Aren’t you going to pour a cup for yourself?”
“Oh I don’t usually take tea with the royals, dear.”
Jeanne chose the wrong moment to take a sip of tea, because she started gagging for a second before banging her chest with a fist and clearing her throat.
Mrs. Potts looked in concern at the younger woman and asked in concern, “Are you all right, love?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. What did you mean by ‘royals’?”
“Well I meant your cousin, dearie. She’s married to a prince, which makes her a princess.”
“Ah. Right.” Jeanne sighed in relief before continuing, “Belle and I lost touch after we fled the city. We ended up in separate villages and were only able to send each other letters up until now. You see, my family runs a bakery you see, and I was kept busy helping them out. Had to keep my younger siblings from going hungry.”
“You sound awfully devoted to your family. Your siblings must be very blessed to have you as an older sister.”
Yes, they were Jeanne thought sadly, but replied with. “Thank you. Family is important to me. Which is why I came out here to see Belle as soon as I heard the news.”
“Well I’m sure she’s very happy that you came out to see her, after all this time.”
“That’s good, because I’m sure happy to see her!”
Later that night, Jeanne was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and wondering how long she would have to keep up this charade. She never considered herself a terribly good liar, and everything that came out of her mouth were lies nowadays. Pulling the covers over her shivering self, she rolled over and looked out at the gardens, the fields, and the forest beyond. The gardens had an assortment of décor in it: rose bushes, sans foliage in the dead of winter; one or two benches, and multiple statues. Just outside Jeanne’s window, she could see a tall statue of a buck deer. It stood tall and proud against the dark, cloudy sky. In the pale thin light of a crescent moon, the fields looked grey and still, like a lake undisturbed by a breeze. The dark woods further away appeared even more foreboding tonight, more than they had the night she’d left. It only felt like yesterday that she was running for her life through those woods, fleeing from some unknown horror that had destroyed her home. Jeanne thought about what had happened to all those people. Where were they taken? What had taken them? What did she see that night? Did her family manage to escape before it happened?
Was her family still even alive?
Before she’d allowed herself to think about that, she heard a lonely-sounding howl outside the castle. Startled, she sat up in bed and padded over to the window in stockinged feet. It wasn’t the sound itself so much as its proximity that had surprised her. Jeanne knew what wolves were very well; her family had once spent a summer touring the United States and had seen wolves in Yellowstone National Park. She’d forgotten that this far into the past, wolves were not yet extinct in Europe. Leaning out the window, she excitedly looked for them, her mood lifting slightly.
It was rather easy to find them. To her confusion, there was a pack of them milling around the rose garden. There were about ten of them, sniffing around the bushes and jumping over the hedges. Jeanne assumed they were looking for rabbits or something. But that was odd. Why hunt for rabbits, when there were deer and other large game just off in the woods?
As if answering her question, she heard a low thrum out towards the forest, like a rumble of thunder. Jeanne looked out at the horizon, confused. There were some clouds out tonight, but not enough to indicate a storm later on so what was that? A second rumble quickly followed the first, this one decidedly sounding not storm-like at all. Jeanne would have pegged it as sounding like a bear’s growl, low and deep, but there was a quality about this sound that gave her pause. Where had she –
Her heart lurched as she realized where she’d heard it before.
Suddenly, the wolves took off through the garden, howling as they ran towards the fields. Jeanne could feel her stomach turning in knots as she watched the pack bolt across the fields, towards the dark forest waiting on the other side. She prayed that she’d just heard thunder, that it wasn’t what she thought it was.
It happened so fast. There was a sound like a tornado forming, and Jeanne saw a column of white swirling air form just before the edge of the woods. The top of the tornado disappeared into a cloud that hovered over the woods. Jeanne watched as the tornado picked up ten grey dots, the wolves’ howls echoing across the fields. She could feel dread settling into the pit of her stomach as the tornado stopped, having picked up all the wolves. She could catch brief snippets of howling coming from the sky as whatever took them flew south.
Jeanne didn't sleep well that night.
___________________________________________________________________________________
The next day, Jeanne was heading to the castle library, her mind racing. Screw the suggestion to stay in her room, this was too important. She had dug through the closet in her room for clothes, knowing that the ones she arrived in would begat too many questions. Right now, Jeanne wore a light green dress that went past her ankles, a white undershirt that came to her wrists, and her hair was tied back into a low ponytail.
Jeanne didn’t really know what she was looking for. She only caught a vague glimpse of the thing that attacked the castle, and it wasn’t much to go off of. Big, round, white, were the only descriptors that would apply to it. And the reports she’d brought from her own time didn’t say much else. Luckily for Jeanne, she had a knack for thinking outside the box, which was helpful when the box itself was taken away. She knew there were cases where people in the past would describe something they didn’t understand, only for people in the future to realize what that thing was. For example, she knew that sailors, upon seeing manatees for the first time, would describe them like they were mermaids. Or explorers that first saw a rhinoceros would call it a unicorn.
Perhaps that was the case with this thing. Even though it most likely wasn’t alive. If Jeanne had to put a name this thing, she would most likely use the word ‘UFO’. It certainly bore a resemblance to one. Were there accounts of people in this time seeing what she saw, and describing it? Jeanne didn’t know, but she was keen to find out.
She had her nose in a report, and was too busy trying to read it, that she didn’t notice the young man walking in the opposite direction towards her. He was too busy reading a bundle of sheet music in his hands, so neither party was aware of each other. Both people were moving at a brisk pace, and it wasn’t long before the two of them had collided with each other and fallen flat onto the floor.
“Oh goodness, I am so sorry Miss Belle!” the young man stuttered, nervously gathering his sheet music.
“No no, it’s my fault, I should’ve watched where I was going,” Jeanne replied, feeling embarrassed. She quickly gathered up her paper, trying to stop him from seeing them.
As they grabbed their respective materials, the young man looked up at Jeanne quizzically, and after a beat said, “Hey, you’re not Belle! But you sure do look like her!”
“So I’ve been told,” Jeanne commented. “I’m Jeanne, her…cousin.”
“I’ve heard of you! Sort of, the master told us you were visiting, but didn’t say much else.”
“It’s been a little while since Belle and I have talked, so he probably just doesn’t know much about me.”
“Well, that makes sense…I think.” He looked around, and seeing what looked like one of Jeanne’s pages, he made to grab it. “Here, let me help!”
“Wait!” she exclaimed, shooting her foot forward. It landed right on the page, just in front of the man’s hand. She slowly slid it back to her, covering the contents with her foot. Noticing his confused look, she added, “Um, that’s…a surprise! I’m writing a story for Belle, and I want to keep it secret.”
“That’s very nice of you! I bet she’ll like it a lot.”
“Definitely.” Jeanne replied. Picking up more papers, she grabbed one of the young man’s and caught a glimpse of it. Reading the sheet music, she looked at it before looking back to him, commenting, “Hey, this looks pretty good! Did you write this?”
“Oh, well yes, yes I did. Do you really like it?” The man’s voice sounded hopeful, and a little disbelieving.
“Yes, I do! Is this a violin sonata? I recognize the key.”
“Sure is! I’m glad you like it, I worked really hard on that piece and…not a lot of people notice my work.”
“Why not?”
“I’m the newer court composer around here, so I’m just starting out really.”
“Now it makes sense! You’re quite talented, I should’ve known you were the court composer earlier.”
“Oh, um, thank you,” he shyly admitted. At this point the young man was blushing from the genuine praise Jeanne was giving him. “But I’m not the only composer for the court, just so you know.”
“You’ve got two composers?”
“It’s a long story, one that’s…not fun to tell.”
“I’ll be sure to remember that.” As Jeanne handed the sheet music back, her fingers briefly brushed his. Both of them froze for a minute, before she let the paper go and he took it back. The man looked at her again, looking like he was trying to solve a puzzle. Finally, he said:
“You know, I really should’ve known that you were Belle’s cousin before.”
“What makes you say that?”
“It makes sense that a pretty girl like you would be related to her!”
Now it was Jeanne’s turn to blush. She could feel her cheeks warming up, feeling flustered from the unexpected compliment.
“I mean, what I mean is,” the young man quickly stammered, “It’s that, you know, you look a lot like her, and she’s a pretty girl and - ”
“Don’t worry, I get it.” Jeanne reassured him with a smile. “Say,” she suddenly said, “I’m trying to find the library, and I keep getting lost. Would you mind terribly if you could - ”
“Sure!” he agreed, quickly getting to his feet. He offered his hand to her, and she took it graciously. “I just came from there!”
“Oh, well I wouldn’t want to keep you from your work!”
“It’s fine, don’t worry. Come on, I’ll show you where everything is!” Letting go of her hand, the young man set off down the hall, Jeanne following him. For some reason, she was upset that he had released her hand, but she let it go.
“Wait!” she interjected. He turned to look back at her. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name?”
“I’m Fife, it’s really nice to meet you. Officially, that is.”
“Well, Maestro Fife. I must thank you for your assistance!”
“It’s all right, just trying to help. And, um, you can just call me Fife.”
Jeanne then spent the next several hours combing the library archives with Fife, trying to see if there was anything useful in there. She didn’t have much luck, even when she tried the more obscure sections of the library that could offer something. Jeanne had other ways of getting her answers, though. Which is why she was out in the fields not far from the castle later that night. It had been a bit difficult to sneak out, but since she had timed it right, it was a success. Dragging the buck statue from the gardens and across the bridge was the real challenge. Jeanne was forced to swipe a toboggan she’d found in the cellars, and pushed the statue onto it. Towing it out here had taken at least an hour, and she was worried about being spotted, but it had worked.
Now comes the easy part. Opening her bag, she pulled out a chain of fabric she’d tied earlier that evening. Having found some bedsheets courtesy of a maid she’d followed, Jeanne had then used her pocket knife to cut them into wide strips and tie them together. The resulting chain was a good seventy or so meters long, perfect for what she had in mind. She had also dug deeper into her bag, and much to her surprise had found an old pack of glow-sticks. She wasn’t sure how those got in there, but she wasn’t going to complain. Right now, a bunch of them were tied between some of the strips, one every ten feet or so. They were still straight and unbroken, which was about to change.
Jeanne bent each stick, watching it crack and giving it a shake before bending it into a loop and securing it. At the last one, she must have bent a little too hard, because it snapped in half and got glow-stick fluid on her hands. Cursing, she wiped it off onto her clothes, and looked at the two broken halves. Looking up at the statue, she got an idea. Cheekily, she used one half to fill in the eyes on the deer, and with the other half she painted a Joker-esque grin on the snout. Snickering to herself, Jeanne pocketed both halves and tied the chain around the statue’s midsection. Turning around, she headed back to the castle, feet stomping in the snow.
A half hour later, Jeanne was back in her room, looking out the window at the statue intensely. She’s taken her small generator and hooked up the Christmas lights to it, hoping to make the place feel a little cheerier. They were now framed around the window. Jeanne didn’t worry too much about them being seen; anyone would have to be outside to see the lights.
Coincidentally, that was exactly where Adam was heading at the moment. He’d caught a brief glimpse of the statue missing from the garden while making his way to the dining hall earlier. He’d sent a couple of servants to look for it, and to his surprise they said it was now in the middle of a field. Adam had no idea how it got there, but he was going to bring it back. Belle had tried to talk him out of it, saying that it would still be there tomorrow, but Adam didn’t listen. He was determined to bring it back tonight.
At that moment, he was saddling up a horse with the help of the stable hands. The horse, a white-coated stallion named Esprit, was one of the faster horses in the stable, light-footed and quick. Sliding the bridle over the horse’s head, Adam told the stablemaster, “I should be back in about twenty minutes. You can start worrying then.”
“Yes, master,” the stablemaster replied. Two of the stable hands open the large door leading out into the fields. A blast of cold air swept into the stable, causing some of the horses to nicker and shuffle their hooves nervously.
Adam mounted Esprit, flicked the reins, and rode out into the nearly dark night. The snow underneath him was not that deep, only coming up between the horse’s pastern and cannon, but it was hard from the icy wind. Each step was accompanied by the sound of crunching as Esprit’s hoof broke through the top layer of ice. Adam huddled down against the horse’s neck, feeling himself start to shiver. The howling of the wind in the gorge echoed eerily as they crossed the bridge over it. Hopefully he’d be able to bring the statue back quick before he caught frostbite.
Inside the castle, Jeanne watched nervously as Adam rode out to the statue, its eyes and mouth visibly glowing courtesy of the glow stick fluid. She prayed that she was only having a bad dream last night, that she didn’t actually see what she thought she saw. If this was real, then the prince was in grave danger. Looking up at the sky, Jeanne saw a bunch of clouds starting to gather above the valley, eclipsing the moon and diffusing its sickly pale light across the icy snow. Soon, she saw Adam stop about ten meters from the statue. He didn’t dismount or ride closer, so she assumed that he was trying to figure out what the heck it was.
Out of the corner of her eye, the Christmas lights started to dim.
Curiously, she looked over at the lights, wondering if her generator was already starting to run out of power. That couldn’t be right, it had a full charge when she left. Kneeling down and fiddling with the dial, Jeanne was confused when the lights continued to dim, until they were completely dark.
Outside, a familiar roar echoed across the night sky.
Jeanne leapt to attention. This was bad, this was bad, this was very very bad, she couldn’t help thinking over and over again. Racing out of the room, she ran down the castle halls, yelling at confused servants to move as she ran to the stables. She thought she heard one or two voices calling her name, but she ignored them and kept running. Miraculously, she found the stables down in the lowest level of the castle. Frantically, she looked around for Faust.
“Excuse me, but is there a horse in here, a tall blue roan stallion, dark socks on his legs? He’s mine, he’s supposed to be here.”
“Pardon me, but who are you?” the stablemaster demanded.
“Sorry, but there’s no horses here like that,” a stable hand replied.
“Then I need to borrow a horse,” she commanded. “I don’t have much time!”
“I don’t take orders from you!” the stablemaster snapped. “We don’t know who you are, so leave!”
“Then perhaps you’d like to explain to the rest of the castle, including the princess, how Prince Adam was abducted on your watch? I’m sure they’d love to hear the reasons you had for letting your prince go missing, possibly getting himself killed!”
The stablemaster gulped nervously, glared at Jeanne, and finally pointed to a small bay mare in the corner stall. “Take her. She’s old anyway. You can have one of the older saddles and bridles too. But the prince will hear about this!”
“Wouldn’t have expected less,” Jeanne muttered, rushing over and donning the mare in riding gear. Swinging her leg over the saddle, dress bunching up before her, she heard some of the stable hands whispering about her unconventional riding style. Ignoring them, she trotted the mare forward and asked them to open the doors. Obliging, Jeanne rode the mare out into the night, galloping as fast as the old girl could go.
She had crossed the gorge and was only about a third of the way to Adam when she saw it happen. A roar like a storm reached her ears, and a familiar white tornado formed around the statue, obscuring it from view. Adam, thankfully, was still a good distance away, presumably still puzzled by what he was seeing. His horse staggered back nervously, whinnying in fear at what he was seeing. Adam himself could only watch in confusion and nervousness as the tornado lifted the statue into the air, spinning around and around the cyclone of snow before disappearing into the cloud above it. The colorful rope of bedsheets and glow sticks swirled after it, the top part vanishing into the cloud right behind the statue. The lower part, about thirty meters worth, hung from the bottom of the cloud.
Adam held Esprit’s reins steady, trying to calm down the jittery stallion. Both of them were looking at the spot where the statue once was, before slowly craning their necks back to look up at the cloud. The prince’s eyes then traced the long chain of fabric down from the cloud, seeing three or four strange glowing rings tied in about every ten meters. Adam was still shivering, but now his face and hands were starting to grow numb. That strange, cold tornado didn’t help. He stared up, his eyes starting to make out some sort of shape –
“YOUR HIGHNESS!”
Startled, he whipped around in the saddle and saw someone on a horse galloping towards him. To his surprise, the horse in question was Sage, one of the senior horses in the stable. The mare was already old when the enchantress cursed the castle, making her positively ancient now. He didn’t even know she could still run that fast! Adam looked closer, trying to determine who was riding her. When he saw who it was, he cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled back,
“JEANNE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”
“IT’S IN THE CLOUD! YOU HEAR ME, IT’S IN THE CLOUD!”
“WHAT?”
“RUN ADAM, RUN!”
Almost like it was timed, at that moment there was a loud, thunderous roar from the cloud above. But it didn’t sound like thunder. There was a metallic quality to it, almost machine-like, but it mostly sounded like some massive animal. The roar had a growling, snarling, almost predatory sound to it. And whatever made it sounded very angry.
That was enough for Esprit. With a whinnying shriek, he reared back, front hooves slashing the air like he wanted to fight. The sudden motion caused Adam to lose his grip on the reins, and he was bucked off into the snow. Landing on his back, he gasped as the air was knocked out of him. Esprit took off once he was free of his rider, racing towards the far end of the field. A second, even louder roar came from the cloud just then, and Adam watched as a dark round shape moved within it. Crawling backwards in the snow, hands freezing up quickly, he staggered back, away from whatever was menacing the skies tonight.
“Grab on!” Jeanne yelled at him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw her holding on to Sage’s reins with her left hand and leaning to the right. Her right arm was extended out, her hand reaching for him. Adam grabbed her arm as she shot past, yanking himself onto the mare’s back with one fluid motion. He wrapped his arms around Jeanne’s waist, foregoing modesty, and they rode away as fast as possible.
Adam looked back for a moment, and he saw a dark round shape, massive in size, shoot out of the cloud and higher up into the sky. While he didn’t see much of the thing beyond that, there was something about it that deeply unsettled him. He wasn’t just shivering from the cold now.
“What is that?!” he shouted at Jeanne.
“I don’t know!”
“Then what were you doing with the statue?”
“What do you mean?”
“You knew something was out there! Start talking!”
“Little busy trying to save your life right now!”
“You’re dodging the question!”
“What question?”
“How did you know something was out there?!”
“Can’t we talk about this later?!”
As the two of them were arguing, Sage continued racing across the fields back towards the castle. Her hooves churned up snow as she galloped, throwing puffs of it behind her. Somewhere in the fields, Adam and Jeanne could hear Esprit galloping in a blind panic, his terrified whinnying sounding eerily similar to a person screaming. Somewhere up above, Jeanne could hear that thing flying around, darting across the overcast night sky in near darkness. Only every now and then, if it flew past the stars and caused them to disappear, or if the already frail moonlight went out, could she pinpoint its approximate location. Jeanne kept her eyes on her window, looking at the relit Christmas lights. Somehow, those lights dimming had something to do with that thing’s arrival. It wasn’t much of a lead to go off of, but it was better than nothing.
They were almost at the bridge when the lights dimmed again.
Jeanne quickly turned Sage away from the stable doors, leading her to a nearby stand of pine trees. They were arranged roughly in a circle, and with their branches laden with snow, they would make a decent hiding place for now.
Pulling the mare into the trees, Jeanne huddled against her back and anxiously watched the sky.
“What are you doing? The castle’s right there!”
“Quiet!” she hissed, pointing a finger up at the sky. “It’s here!”
Adam listened to her, thankfully, and pressed himself against Sage’s back as best as he could. The two of them remained completely still, waiting for an opportune moment to slip away to safety. Jeanne felt like her heart was going to leap out of her chest. She gripped the mare’s reins tightly, and if her hands could be seen the knuckles would be white with tension.
Overhead, Jeanne watched nervously as a dark round shape emerged from the clouds and covered the moon. The valley was shrouded in darkness, and Jeanne and Adam waited with bated breath for it to move. The silence was so thick that both their ears were ringing. No owls called, no wolves howled, they didn’t even hear heavy chunks of snow falling off of tree branches. It was as if the whole world paused at that moment, waiting to see what this strange new threat would do. The dark, monstrous shape hovered there for two tense minutes, then moved slowly out of the way towards the west.
Looking towards the castle and seeing the Christmas lights come back on, Jeanne whispered, “Okay, I think it’s gone. Let’s hurry back while we can.”
She led Sage out of the trees and they started galloping over the bridge, going as fast as possible while still being quiet. Jeanne and Adam didn’t say anything during the next ten minutes, afraid that even speaking would draw the thing’s attention. That is, assuming that it was still nearby. Hopefully, the lights would stay on and they could get to safety.
They were almost at the stable doors when the silence was pierced by the sound of hooves thundering on icy cobblestones. Looking behind her, Jeanne could see Esprit bolting towards them, nickering and tossing his head as he ran. She froze as he grew closer; if he came too close and was too loud, it would come back and they would be caught. She prayed for the horse to turn around, to stop panicking, for something to happen before the worst did.
She looked back at the window, and seeing the lights grow dark again, she sent Sage into a full gallop. Frantically, she raced the horse towards the door, screaming at the stable hands to open them. Seeing that she wasn’t going to stop or even slow down, they quickly flung the doors open. She and Adam swept into the stable, racing towards the far wall with Jeanne stopping Sage just a meter from it.
“Close the doors!” she ordered.
“But Esprit’s still out there!” Adam protested.
“Do you want your horse back, or do you want to live?!”
Adam hesitated, then ordered the stable hands to do what she said. They quickly pulled the doors shut. Right before they completely closed, everyone’s view of Esprit was suddenly obscured by a wall of white, and a violent wind swept past them. Swirling around and around, it rattled the stable doors and threatened to send them flying away into the cyclone. All the other horses were hysterical, kicking their stall doors and rearing back in fright. Most everyone huddled near the back of the stable, but a few brave souls crept forward to peer through the door cracks. Jeanne could hear Esprit’s cries of confusion and fear as he was lifted up into the sky, disappearing somewhere into the clouds. Finally, the winds stopped blowing and silence settled once more.
Well, it was almost silent. From somewhere overhead but moving away fast, they could still hear Esprit’s panicked whinnying. Going to the doors and cracking one open, Jeanne saw a large white shape fly off and vanish over a hill, heading south fast.
Jeanne and Adam remained hidden in the stable for a few more minutes, their minds trying to process what had just happened. Finally, Jeanne turned to the prince and said,
“Let’s get upstairs. I’ll tell you what I know.”
Chapter 3: The Beast
Notes:
Buckle up folks, a lot happens in this chapter. A LOT. Quick PSA, it gets gory and pretty gross in this chapter (you know which scene I'm talking about!), so if that bothers you, feel free to skip it, it won't affect the plot too much.
Enjoy!
Chapter Text
December 6th, 1742
Jeanne had hoped that the events of tonight had gone unnoticed by the rest of the castle. Telling everyone that some strange thing was flying around, taking people and animals, would at best be laughed off and at worst cause a panic. Keeping it on the down-low would be the best course of action for now.
That was not an option.
The whole castle was in an uproar. Several of the servants had actually seen what had happened earlier, while others heard the information second-hand. There were many conflicting theories about what had happened: some people suggested it was a freak snowstorm, others thought that it was just a trick of the wind. A few people, having been drinking earlier in the evening, dismissed it as the result of too much alcohol.
Cogsworth and Lumière were among those arguing about what had happened. As could be expected, they disagreed on what it was, each of them being certain that the other was wrong.
Cogsworth insisted, “I am telling you Lumière, it was only the wind! Honestly, there’s no need to discuss this further, the master was never in any ‘danger’ like some people here are insisting!”
“But how can you be so sure, mon ami?” Lumière argued. “We heard winter winds blow past this very castle for almost ten years, and they never sounded like they did tonight!”
“But wind doesn’t always sound the same!” Cogsworth countered. “It was just a particularly strong gust, at most. An approaching storm perhaps, but nothing to be concerned about!”
“If that’s the case, why was our mysterious guest in such a hurry to get to the master? Surely if it was only a storm, there was no cause for concern. Or do you think she’s just that scared of the wind?” Lumière replied sarcastically.
“Maybe she is! Have you considered that?”
“Possibly. I shall ask her myself once I get the chance! She is our guest, after all, and I’m afraid we have been woefully neglectful in our hospitality!”
“But the master has made it clear that visits to her are to be kept to a minimum!”
Such was the nature of most of the arguments among the servants that night. Everyone had a different idea of what was going on, said ideas ranging from mundane to fantastical. But the only way to settle it was to talk to the two witnesses involved.
After Adam and Jeanne returned, they noticed that the atmosphere of the castle had shifted somehow. There was a newfound sense of urgency, but for what, neither was certain. When they entered a hallway after leaving the stables, a pair of maids was walking towards them, talking animatedly among themselves. Noticing Adam and Jeanne, they grew quiet and looked at the other pair, their gaze lingering on Jeanne too long for her liking. As they passed, they started speaking again, quieter this time but no less passionately.
“I think they know something’s up.” Jeanne grimaced.
“Really? What gave it away?” Adam retorted.
“Oh shut it Your Highness! You’re the one who almost got himself abducted!” Jeanne snapped.
“Don’t talk to me like that!” Adam berated. “And what’s this about being ‘abducted’? You said you’d tell me everything!”
“No, I said I’d tell you what I know. And yes, I did promise something like that. But not in front of an audience. I’ll tell you and Belle what I can, and you can explain to everyone else. They’re more likely to listen to you, anyway.”
“Fine. But I need an explanation, even a small one. I can’t keep the rest of the castle in the dark if they’re in danger.”
“That’s a fair point,” Jeanne admitted. “As much as I would like to keep it on a ‘need-to-know’ basis, it probably isn’t fair to everyone else.”
“‘Need-to-know?’”
“Exactly as it says. Only people that need to know about something will know about it.”
“I see.”
By that time, they had reached the doors to his and Belle’s chambers. Before they could even step into the room, Belle ran over and embraced Adam, sighing with relief “Thank goodness you’re all right! I saw you get thrown from your horse, and with the storm, I assumed the worst!”
“Belle, I’m fine,” the prince reassured. “But it wasn’t exactly a storm.”
She pulled back from Adam and gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”
“I can explain. Sort of.” Jeanne answered. “But there’s something I need to get first. I’ll be a moment.” She darted out of the room, and returned a minute later with the bundle of reports she’d brought from home. She paused, as if remembering something, then told Adam and Belle: “You both might want to sit down for this. It’s…a lot to take in, even for someone like me.”
Now Belle was intrigued. If it was something that gave even Jeanne pause, it must be very unusual indeed. There was a cluster of armchairs by the window, and all three of them went and sat down. Before joining them, however, Jeanne went over to the window and nervously looked out it, her gaze lingering on the sky for an uncomfortably long time. Belle watched the younger woman, growing even more curious about her behavior. What could be so frightening that it had to be kept a secret from the rest of the castle?
Settling into her armchair, Jeanne took a deep breath, looked both royals in the eye, and began: “So, I think the best place to begin is what I know for certain: I didn’t come here alone.”
“We might have guessed that,” Adam commented. “When we found you in the woods, there was a horse there too. It didn’t have a rider, but it wore a saddle and bridle. I assume it was yours.”
“Faust! You saw him? Was he okay?” Jeanne exclaimed, sitting up excitedly.
“We’re not sure,” Belle added. “The poor thing was scared, he took off before we could catch him. The look in its eyes…it was like he’d seen a ghost.”
“More like heard a ghost,” Adam remarked. “That’s another odd thing that happened that day. When we first found you, we heard a very unusual sound. We thought it was the wind at first, but the way it moved across the sky was wrong. And it was very high up, yet we heard it clearly. I swear, if I didn’t know better, it almost sounded like…someone screaming. No, not one person, but lots of people. It was strange.”
“And when the sound stopped, it started raining. But it wasn’t normal rain. It was…objects. Bricks, mostly, but other things too, such as glass, pieces of wood, and clothing. Some of the clothes had blood on them!”
“Then you’re really not gonna like what I have to say next. I think it was people.”
Belle gasped and Adam insisted, “But how? Why would we hear people in the sky?”
“Like I said, I didn’t come here alone. That thing somehow followed me!”
“How could it have done that?” Belle asked.
“It was purely an accident,” Jeanne replied. Holding up her left wrist, she revealed her mother’s bracelet. Jeanne had decided to wear it whenever she was out of her chambers, for safe keeping. “This device - ” she gestured at her bracelet, “was only designed to send a single person through time. You have to have physical contact with it, either directly or by proxy. It’s how my horse, Faust, was able to come back with me. I was wearing the bracelet, and I was riding him. How that thing was able to follow me is a mystery. Unless…” She took a look at her arm, the burn wounds starting to slowly heal, “we were struck by lightning the moment we went back. I saw it branch out. Maybe it was hit too, and something went weird with the bracelet’s energy and it was caught…I’m not exactly sure, but that’s not important right now. What is important is telling you what that thing is, supposedly.”
“So, what is it?” Adam asked impatiently.
“It all started about six months ago, my time. Reports had been coming in from all around France, about whole towns going missing, and objects falling from the sky like you described.”
“How could entire towns just vanish like that?” Belle said incredulously.
“I don’t know, it’s definitely something worth looking into. At least, I thought so. No one else seemed to be interested in looking deeper. Some people thought they’d all just moved away, others thought that an outbreak of some disease had killed them, and wanted the towns quarantined. Most people thought that it was just rumors, tall tales and nothing else. Those people weren’t really gone, they were just in hiding or something. Or there was something in the water driving everyone else mad. There were even witnesses to the attacks, and no one believed them!”
“Witnesses? So that means someone saw it?” Belle asked hopefully.
“Yes, it does. These are reports describing what each one saw, some of them even have drawings of what the attacker looked like.” Jeanne handed Adam and Belle each a few papers, and let them look over the reports for a few minutes. Most of the drawings were rather rudimentary, clearly none of the witnesses was an artist by any means. Furthermore, the images varied wildly between reports: some witnesses drew something that looked like a large white disk with a dark hole on the bottom. Others drew something that was tall and billowy, like a massive jellyfish made out of cloth.
“That’s…interesting. Why do some of them look different?” Belle inquired.
“I’m not sure,” Jeanne replied.
Adam looked up from the reports and questioned, “So you’re telling us that even with proof, no one took this threat seriously? Not even the king?” After a moment he added, “Assuming France still has a king.”
“No, not even the king,” Jeanne confirmed. “He dismissed it as just a rumor, a conspiracy theory even! It was so frustrating, I tried talking to him myself several times, but he wouldn’t listen! I couldn’t get him to take the problem seriously, no matter how much I insisted!”
“Wait, how do you know the king in your time?” Belle inquired.
Jeanne was pensive for a moment, before explaining, “I was…close to the queen, before she passed. She was a descendant of yours; it’s also how I knew who you two were. The king is courteous to me, but he hasn’t been the same since his wife died. He loved her dearly, and was a better king while she lived. It wasn’t until the queen got sick that he started to downplay problems, such as how bad her illness was. How the doctor’s treatments weren’t working. When she succumbed to the disease, something inside him just…broke. The king now lives in a state of constant denial, pretending that everything is fine, much to the country’s detriment. He blinded himself to this latest problem…until it was too late.”
“‘Too late’? What do you mean by that?” Adam asked nervously. It was very uncharacteristic of him to sound nervous at all; even he was surprised by it. The way Jeanne had said ‘too late’, however – from the way she phrased it, the consequences must have been awful.
“The night that I left, the castle was destroyed.”
You could hear a pin drop in the room after Jeanne announced that. Adam sat there, looking dumbfounded, like he wanted to say something but didn’t have the words. Belle started wide-eyed at the younger woman, in disbelief at what she’d heard. “But…but that’s impossible!” Adam declared. “You can’t just destroy an entire castle! It’s too much work, it can’t be done!”
“And yet it was done. You see, I’d gotten fed up with no one taking this thing seriously, so I decided to go out and investigate it myself. I’d packed a bag, saddled up Faust, and left that night. Not long after I did, I heard something behind me. Turning around, I saw this massive dark cloud over the castle, and it was ripping the castle apart. Thousands of bricks torn from the walls and lifted into the air, stained glass shattering and the shards swirling around like leaves in the wind. I even saw an entire tower get ripped from its foundations, only to be torn to shreds as it was lifted into the storm. Not only that, but people were being lifted up too. I could hear their screams from all the way across the valley. When it was done, that thing started chasing me. It looked just like this.” Jeanne pointed at one of the reports, which portrayed the thing as a massive flying disk. “I tried to outrun it, but it caught me. I was lifted off the ground. I was still holding onto Faust’s reins, but I couldn’t see him with all the snow. It went dark, then there was a bright flash…the next thing I knew, I was here.”
“That would explain why it started raining bricks,” Adam concluded. “And why you stole and defaced my statue.”
“Sorry about that,” she replied sheepishly. “I wanted to make sure it really was here, and that’s the idea I came up with.”
Adam sat back and reflected on what he’d just heard. Knowing what he did now, he felt a little more at ease. Having an idea of what they were up against was immensely helpful. Still, he couldn’t get over how something like that could destroy the entire castle. It was more than a little unnerving.
Belle didn’t realize she was holding her breath while their guest told her story. She started breathing again, and told Jeanne, “You must’ve been terrified. From the sounds of it, you’re lucky to be alive.”
“Everyone else might still be alive!” Jeanne insisted. “You didn’t see any bodies, right? A-and wasn’t it just a little blood on the clothes? They might’ve just gotten hurt by all the stuff flying around, cut by glass or something? Maybe it’s a ship or something, and they’re alive but need help!”
Adam gave Jeanne a pitying look and softly said, “Jeanne, while I hope that you’re right…you might want to prepare for the possibility that they’re…not alive.”
“You don’t know that!” she replied accusingly. “They’re still alive, I know it!”
“Adam, love,” Belle added, laying a hand on her husband’s arm but looking sternly at him, “Let’s not talk about that right now,” She nodded at Jeanne, who had grown distraught at what Adam suggested, “Let her continue to hope, while she still has it.”
The prince sighed and replied, “I just want her to be prepared for the truth, even if it’s what she doesn’t want to hear.”
“I know, but let’s wait to cross that bridge until we get to it,” his wife murmured. She was thinking a similar thought, in all honesty, but Jeanne needed something to hold on to. Even if it was just a naïve sense of hope. Belle turned back to the younger woman and asked, “What did you mean when you said it might be a ship?”
“There’s theories, stories with some truth if you will, of these mysterious flying saucer-shaped things. They’ve been around for the past century at least, we call such things ‘UFO’s’, it stands for ‘Unidentified Flying Object’. There’s a newer term going around, called ‘UAP’s’. It stands for ‘Unidentified Aerial Phenomenon’. I personally like UFO more. Traditionally, when people say they saw a UFO, they saw something like this,” She held up the drawing she’d indicated earlier, “The most common theory is that they’re ships, and the reason they’re flying ships is because they’re carrying people from another world.”
“What?!” Adam exclaimed, “You mean that thing is a ship with people from…from somewhere else?”
“That’s the most likely theory.”
Belle looked out the window, watching the night sky and wondering if there really were people from other worlds. The possibility was exciting, but also rather scary. What if they were as hostile as these visitors were? Why would they choose to visit her world? Could her people put their fear aside and befriend such travelers from the stars? It would be worth asking Jeanne a bit more about what she knew, but at another time.
“That’s all I’ve got,” Jeanne concluded. “Do you understand now why I didn’t want the whole castle knowing?”
“Yes, clearly.” Adam replied. “If something like this got out to the others, it could cause them to panic.”
“But what will we tell them?” Belle protested.
“That it was just a weird snowstorm, I guess,” Jeanne suggested. “It was just a nice, normal, everyday snowstorm.”
“I’d just like to point out that this isn’t a nice, normal, everyday castle. Someone might figure out you’re lying.” Belle dryly remarked.
“We’ll worry about that later,” Jeanne replied absentmindedly. She was flipping through the other reports when she saw something that didn’t belong. Pulling the page out, she looked at it for a moment then set it on top of the others. Turning towards the door, Jeanne said, “I’ll talk with you both more tomorrow. I have to head to the music room for a bit.”
Adam tensed up for a moment and curtly told Jeanne, “You shouldn’t go down there.”
“I’m just returning this sheet music that got mixed in with my stuff. It belongs to your court composer, Fife.”
The prince relaxed when he heard that explanation and replied, “Sorry, I thought you were going to go see Forte.”
“The other composer?” Jeanne asked. “What’s up with that anyway? Fife mentioned that there were two court composers, but he didn’t say why. He…wasn’t keen to talk about it.”
“I don’t blame him,” Adam darkly muttered. “Not after what Forte did.”
“What do you mean?”
Belle stepped forward and answered, “Forte was the court composer before the enchantment. He didn’t want the curse to be broken, because he didn’t want to become human again. Naturally, he saw me as a threat to breaking the curse, so he tried to stop Adam and me from falling in love. When that didn’t work, he tried to…kill us all, and destroy the castle.”
Jeanne gasped and asked incredulously, “But why? Why would he do that?”
“He said that he felt more important, more wanted, by Adam after the enchantment. Forte felt like he was unimportant, minor, before the enchantress cursed the castle. He was worried that he would go back to being unwanted after the spell was broken.”
“It’s no excuse for what he did!” Adam protested hotly.
“It isn’t,” Belle agreed, “but it is an explanation. You really should go talk to him, love.”
“What’s this about?” Jeanne inquired.
Belle turned to Jeanne and answered, “Adam and Forte are not on speaking terms after what happened. He tried to throw Forte out of the castle after the enchantment was broken, but I stopped him.”
“Why would you do that?”
“That’s what I wanted to know!” Adam interjected. “I couldn’t understand why you would do that, Belle.”
“We couldn’t just let him go, not like that.” Belle explained patiently. “And no, I didn’t forget about what he did; I went to speak with him myself a few weeks ago, where he explained his motives to me.”
“Which were selfish!” Adam added. “He knew how much the rest of us wanted to be human again, and yet he tried to stop the curse from being broken anyway!”
“Okay, I can see that this is a touchy subject,” Jeanne observed. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“It’s not your fault, it’s just…” Adam sighed, then continued, “Forte and I were close during the enchantment, which is why what he did hurt so badly. He seriously thought that I would forget about him once the curse was broken, so while I understand his motives…I just can’t forget about what he did.”
The room was silent for a moment, before Jeanne said, “Well, I guess I’ll wait till morning to return these papers. It’s been a long night.”
“Yes, let’s rest for now,” Belle agreed. “It’s been a long night for everyone here.”
____________________________________________________________________________________
December 7th, 1742
The next morning, Jeanne was tiptoeing down the castle corridors, turning both Adam and Belle’s words over in her head. Reaching the doors to the music room, she pulled one of them open and cautiously stepped inside.
“Hello, Fife? Are you in here?” she called out. “I have some of your music here, must’ve gotten mixed in with my things yesterday.” Not hearing anything, she turned around and was about to leave when she heard a different voice:
“I had heard rumors that we had another guest in the castle, but I must confess I didn’t believe them until now.”
Looking in the direction of the voice, Jeanne saw a tall, thin man rise from the bench in front of the organ and walk slowly towards her. There was something meticulous about the way he walked, like each step was controlled with absolute precision. As he got closer, Jeanne couldn’t help but notice the self-assured, almost smug expression he had. If snakes grew legs and learned how to walk… she thought. Judging by the disdainful way he stared down at her (despite not being that much taller), she could take a guess who this was.
“You must be Forte,” Jeanne greeted.
“That will be Maestro Forte as far as you’re concerned,” he corrected, sounding miffed that she didn’t use his proper title. He didn’t know why he was surprised, to be honest. He didn’t expect peasant folk to know much regarding decorum. “You must be Jeanne, Belle’s cousin.”
“That would be right,” she replied. “Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair before long. I’m looking for Fife.”
“Interesting,” the older man commented. “He’s not here, he went to the library some time ago. He’s not the type of person I’d expect you to seek out.”
“Not the type you would seek out, at least,” Jeanne retorted. Setting the sheet music down on a nearby table, she added. “I just came by to return some sheet music for him. It’s part of a sonata he’s working on. Not like I’d expect you to care.”
“And what makes you say that?”
“I’m not usually one to jump to conclusions quickly, but since I started talking to you, you demanded that I use your proper title, assumed things about me that aren’t true, and I know that you tried to kill everyone last Christmas. I don’t exactly have the highest opinion of you.”
“Who told you about last Christmas?” Forte asked accusingly.
“Prince Adam,” she replied simply. She wasn’t really paying attention to Forte, mostly concerned with waiting until Fife got back. Wandering over to the organ, Jeanne spotted a half-finished set of sheet music set aside, complete with inkwell and quill. Curious, she sat down at the organ and began reading it.
“Don’t touch that!” he snapped, walking briskly over to the organ to chase her away.
“Did…you write this?” she asked, gesturing to the music. “As much as I’d rather not admit it, it looks rather good.”
Forte was taken aback at the unexpected, if begrudging, praise. He had assumed, based on her quickness to bring up the events of last December, that she wouldn’t like his work. Hell, he didn’t expect anyone in general to compliment his work. There had been a time when the master had appreciated his music, but that time had long passed. The master wouldn’t even speak to him nowadays, though he supposed that he couldn’t blame the man. It was hard to ‘forgive and forget’ attempted murder, after all. So having this stranger say she liked his music…he didn’t dislike the fact that she had complimented his work, but he was surprised. Perhaps she was just recognizing his genius, as she should? “Well, um…thank you, my dear. Do you play the organ, perchance?” Apparently, there was more to this girl than meets the eye.
“A little bit,” Jeanne replied. “I was taught how to play multiple instruments; the organ, the violin, the cello, for example. Musical literacy was heavily emphasized in my education.”
“Really?” Forte asked incredulously. “I wouldn’t have expected someone of your…social station to have much musical training.”
“You could say I’m full of secrets,” she returned cryptically. She absentmindedly fingered a key, before asking out of the blue, “Do you regret it?”
“Regret what?”
“Trying to kill everyone. Belle told me that you had felt unwanted before the curse, but…with how you handled it, I can only assume that you only feel even more unwanted now. So…do you regret it?”
Forte grew quiet in that moment, before sighing and answering, “You already told me what your assessment was of my character, and I will admit, it’s fairly accurate. However, do not think that I don’t have a heart, or a conscious. When Belle insisted that I stayed in the castle, defying the master’s desire to throw me out, I was grateful for that, believe me. While I don’t expect him to forgive me, I do hope one day we can at least be…civil, with one another. On speaking terms at least.”
Before Jeanne could reply to that, she heard the doors to the music room opening. Turning around on the bench, she looked over and saw Fife walking into the room. “Jeanne!” he exclaimed, rushing over, “Are you okay? What are you doing here?”
Walking over to the table she had set the music on, she replied, “I just stopped by to drop this off.” Gesturing to the sheets, she added, “By the way, how are you doing? Wasn’t that some storm last night?”
“Yeah, right,” he nervously laughed. “Some storm. But how are you feeling? I saw you go out into it last night. You could have gotten really hurt!”
“Wait, were you…worried about me?”
Fife flushed scarlet at the admission, before stammering, “Well, I mean, a little, it’s just that…it – it was cold last night! No one should be out there, not even the master! What was he doing anyway?”
“Trying to move a statue that I dragged out to the fields.”
Confused, Fife asked, “Wait, what?”
Forte, overhearing this, decided to add his own thoughts: “Now that’s a rather odd thing to do if you knew a storm was coming. I’m very curious to hear what your motives were.”
She had said too much. Jeanne tried backtracking by adding, “…Because Prince Adam didn’t like where it was before! He’d asked me to move it, but he must’ve changed his mind. That’s why he went back out there, to bring it back to the gardens. Too bad it got carried away in the storm.”
She wasn’t sure if either composer bought it, but Fife at least decided to change the subject. “Anyway, I wanted to find you because I found something! It was in the library, on a back shelf. The master and Belle might want to take a look too.”
Forte, however, did not want to change the subject. “I heard that the statue was taken by the storm. As well as the master’s prize horse. Such a shame, Esprit was quite the stallion. I wonder what kind of storm would be strong enough to carry away a horse…”
“Let’s go show what you found to Adam and Belle!” Jeanne interjected, rushing out the door. Fife, caught off guard, followed after her and quickly caught up. “Okay, show me,” she asked once they were down the hall. Fife handed a large book to her, its binding starting to fray. Taking a closer look, Jeanne read the title: De Grandine et Tonitruis.
Jeanne stopped where she was and just started down at the book, the title taunting her. Turning to Fife, she flatly said, “You don’t buy that it was a storm, do you?”
“I saw something, and it definitely wasn’t a storm!” Fife insisted. “I don’t know what it was, it was big, white, and round. When I saw it, this was the first thing I thought of! Is that what you were trying to find in the library yesterday?”
“But this? On Hail and Thunder? It’s just some bishop from 900 years ago debunking the idea of Magonia’s existence. Seriously, a country in the clouds? Ships that carry sailors to steal crops? Weather mages that create storms? Nothing but the superstitions of…naïve, backwards-thinking…peasants…” Her voice trailed off as a dark thought came to mind. In her time, there was a rather large town not far from the castle, but right now it was but a small village. She had learned earlier that Belle’s father Maurice was in that village, as well as a bunch of innocent townsfolk. If that thing decided to attack…
She suddenly took off ahead of Fife, turning down a corridor that was on the right. “Wait, where are you going?” Fife asked, caught off guard yet again.
“I have to go!” Jeanne yelled. “There’s something that I need to do! Tell your master that I’ll be back by nightfall!”
“What do you mean?!” he shouted back.
Instead of answering his question, Jeanne suddenly stopped and turned back around. Rushing back towards him, she said, “Congratulations Fife, you might have just saved the village. Thank you.” And to his shock, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek before taking off again.
Fife felt himself blushing again, too stunned to ask her what she meant and resting a hand on the cheek she had pecked. He stood there for a moment, staring in the direction that Jeanne had run off in. Should he tell someone? What would he say though? He didn’t know what she was doing, other than going to the village, so he couldn’t provide any helpful information. Just that she was in a hurry, but what good would that do?
A minute later, Mrs. Potts appeared around the corner, heading in the opposite direction Jeanne had took off in. She was pushing a trolley with a tray on it, balancing two saucers and teacups with a pot brimming with steaming tea. Noticing Fife standing in the corridor, she greeted him cheerfully, “Well, Maestro, what a pleasant surprise! You’re always holed up in either the music room or the library, it’s so nice to see you out and about.”
“Oh, Mrs. Potts! Sorry, I was distracted there,” Fife started, breaking his gaze with the corridor Jeanne had disappeared down and responding to the matronly woman.
“No need to apologize dear, we all have those days!” she replied with a laugh. Noticing that there was something in his hands, she gestured at it and asked, “Now what’s that you’ve got there?”
“Just a…book I was borrowing,” he answered. He held it up so she could read the title.
Seeing which book it was, she look at him with a knowing glance and implied, “Now why do I get the feeling that this was meant for Miss Jeanne?”
“How-how did you know that?” he asked sheepishly.
“An educated guess. It’s a strange book to be sure, and ever since she’s arrived here strange things have been happening,” she noted.
“You could say that,” Fife commented absentmindedly.
“Although,” Mrs. Potts continued, “Something tells me that this is only the beginning. That stranger things are just around the corner, and that Miss Jeanne will have some role to play in it yet.”
____________________________________________________________________________________
After getting into yet another argument with the stablemaster, Jeanne had requisitioned a jittery yearling named Frileux to ride to the village. Despite the fact that after last night, Adam had given her blanket permission to borrow any horse she needed, apparently the stablemaster hadn’t gotten the memo. Something to mention to the prince when she got back.
Frileux cautiously set his hoof down on the other side of a log in their path. They’d made good progress so far, and the village was now only half a kilometer away. However, half a kilometer back, Frileux had started demonstrating just how he’d gotten his name. While some people would call him ‘prissy’, or ‘cowardly’, Jeanne would describe him as ‘cautious’. Not a bad trait for a horse to have, but admittedly rather frustrating given the current circumstances. She was willing to give him some leeway, though. He’d only been a colt when the castle was enchanted, and this was the first time he’d ever been off the castle grounds. The grey and speckled yearling had done an okay job so far, and Jeanne understood that most horses weren’t known for dashing into danger head-on. She’d worked with the castle horses (from her time) for most of her life, and she knew what she was doing.
Hearing hoof steps behind her, Jeanne lightly pulled on Frileux’s reins and halted. Sighing, she turned around in her saddle and called, “Let me guess: Fife told you where I was going.”
“Only because I insisted on knowing,” Adam replied, trotting up to her on his horse and stopped. He was riding his personal horse, a red roan mare named Joan, who nickered at Frileux in a friendly greeting. Their riders were not so amicable. “You shouldn’t have left the castle, you’re not even supposed to be out of your room! Why are you going to the village?”
“To warn them!” Jeanne argued, “It’s not safe with that thing flying around! And the villagers are even more exposed than we are! If it could level a castle with ease, it could destroy the village no problem! Not to mention that Maurice is there, for Belle’s sake at least someone should warn him. Look, I’m sorry that I broke your rule, again, but I wouldn’t have done it if I didn't have a good reason.”
“What sense does it make to put yourself in danger then?” he asked, frustrated. “This is the second time now you’ve broken the one rule you’ve been given and run off towards trouble! And you’re expecting me to just ignore it?”
“Okay then,” Jeanne replied, turning her horse around to look at Adam directly. She leveled a stare at him and asked, “If your rules are so important to you, why didn’t you just drag me back to the castle? You could’ve grabbed my reins anytime and lead us back, or called guards to help you, or something, but you didn’t. You’re letting me argue with you instead. Why?”
Adam grew quiet at that. He looked like he was in deep thought for a minute, before reluctantly answering, “Because…you remind me of…well, me. In the best and worst possible way.”
“How so?”
“You’re impulsive, but you’re also brave. You’re stubborn, but also determined. You won’t take ‘no’ for an answer, but only for the right reasons. Before the enchantment, I showed those traits in the worst ways possible. But now…Belle brought out the best in me, and the best of my character. I see a lot of myself in you, and…I don’t know how to feel.”
Jeanne wasn’t sure how to feel either, if she was being honest with herself. In her own time, being compared to King Adam would either feel like a great compliment or a massive insult, depending on what kind of day she was having. Now that the man himself was drawing the comparison, she felt taken aback. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and decide that he meant it in a complimentary fashion. He didn’t seem like the type to indulge in self-loathing anyways. “Well, then,” she started, unsure of how to continue. “Maybe…maybe then you understand where I’m coming from, when I do things like this. You should understand better than anyone.”
“You’re right,” he admitted. “If I were in your shoes, I’d be doing the same thing you’re doing now.” His voice grew stern as he added: “But did you even have a plan? You can’t just go into the village and expect them to listen to you without question.”
“A fair point,” she reluctantly said. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”
“You’re almost at that bridge, though,” the prince replied, pointing ahead. He was right; they were close to the village already and Jeanne still didn’t know what she would do or say.
“Let’s…see how things look, and go from there.” Jeanne decided.
“That sounds promising,” Adam muttered, but he followed her into the village all the same.
As they passed through the market, Jeanne couldn’t help but notice the stares she was getting from the villagers, nor the hushed whispers that hopped through the crowd. She pulled the hood of her cloak down over her face to try and hide, but it didn’t do much good. It didn’t escape her attention that people would notice the resemblance between her and Belle, if not mistake her for the former peasant entirely. She wasn’t sure if that would be a point in her favor or not. Surely, having Prince Adam vouch for her would increase her credibility at least.
They reached the main square. Both Adam and Jeanne noted that the villagers had noticed their presence, and some of the people from the market had followed them to the square. The prince looked around, trying to find a way to get the rest of the town here, when he noticed Jeanne and Frileux head down a side street. He noticed that there was a church at the end of the street, and he prayed that she wasn’t going to do what he thought she was.
She did.
Cringing, he heard the church bells start ringing and he saw Jeanne galloping back out of breath. She came up to Adam and panted, “If an angry priest comes up that street and starts yelling, tell him it was for a good cause!”
“Are you serious?!”
It worked though. Within a matter of minutes, the town square was filled with peasants. From the size of the crowd, Jeanne estimated that the entire village had shown up, which was perfect. No need for her to come back and warn them again. She started to feel antsy at all those eyes starting at her and Adam, and Frileux shifted nervously beneath her. Now that the moment was upon her, Jeanne could feel some of her bravado start to fade.
The whispers had started up in the crowd again. Adam, annoyed that Jeanne was taking too long, pushed her back, causing Frileux to step forward with a snort. She glared at him, then turned to the crowd: “Um, hello?” she started, “I’m here to tell you all-”
“SPEAK UP!” someone in the back of the crowd yelled.
“Why is she doing here anyway?” someone else shouted. “I thought that girl was too good for us now that she’s a princess!”
“Maybe she’s just here to show off her husband, the prince!” a third person hollered. “Though if you ask me, he ain’t much of a prince. The arrogant twat is still too much of a beast for my liking!”
Behind her, Jeanne heard Adam growl, seething at the insult. She reached behind her and placed a comforting hand on his arm. The prince calmed down, surprised how the gesture was so similar to something Belle would do. Speaking of which, it occurred to him that judging by the people’s reactions, Jeanne had been mistaken for his wife. With the hood covering her eyes, there was virtually no difference between the two women.
“They think you’re Belle,” he muttered to her.
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Jeanne remarked. Adam let the sarcasm slide.
Getting frustrated, Jeanne realized that she couldn’t go about this soft and gentle. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back and yelled, “THAT’S ENOUGH!”
Startled, the crowd turned back to her, shocked at how aggressive ‘Belle’ sounded. It was a strong change in character from the odd girl they’d known their entire lives, a change no one quite knew how to take.
Satisfied that she had their attention, Jeanne continued, “We brought you all here because there’s something important we have to tell you! You’re all in grave danger! You have to leave the village!”
There were gasps in the crowd, and some people shifted uneasily. “Danger? What sort of danger?” someone asked.
“A terrible danger! One that abducts people and animals, never to be seen again!” Adam elaborated.
“Well what sort of thing has the power to take people?” another person questioned. “We would have heard of a gang of marauders snatching people out on the roads!”
“It’s not marauders!” Jeanne insisted. “It’s something far worse!”
“Belle?” an older voice exclaimed incredulously.
Jeanne looked towards the edge of the crowd. She spotted an older man, short and sturdy, pushing his way through the crowd towards her. He had white hair with a bald spot on the top, and an equally white mustache. There was a toolbelt hanging around his hips with a mishmash of various tools jammed into it. Judging by the way he was staring at her, Jeanne guessed that this was Maurice, Belle’s father.
“Mau - Papa, it’s good to see you!” Jeanne greeted. “You have to get out of here! A terrible disaster is going to befall the village!”
“Oh my, what kind of disaster?” Maurice asked nervously.
“Of course the lunatic believes her!” someone else yelled. “Why should we listen to her if crazy old Maurice takes her seriously!?”
“But it’s true! It’s…it’s…” Jeanne struggled to come up with an explanation. What could she say that would get them to listen to her? At that moment, she had an idea. She suddenly shouted out to the crowd: “It’s the Magonians! One of their ships is here, and it’s been taking people back to their homeland.”
The reaction from the crowd was mixed. Several people laughed at her, while most of the crowd stared in disbelieving silence. From off to her left, Jeanne saw Adam side-eying her. An old man’s voice screamed angrily: “How dare you spread such blasphemous rumors in this village?!”
Turning to look at the source, Jeanne and Adam saw the village priest storming up to them, all red in the face. He jabbed an accusatory finger at Jeanne and berated her, “This is a good Christian village, with good Christian people, and you dare tell lies that invite apostasy?! It wasn’t enough that you broke into a house of God and desecrated it, but now you sow fear among His children with your words!”
“Are you still mad about the bells? Because believe me, it was for - ”
“She did what she had to do to get people to listen to her,” Adam interrupted, addressing the priest. Turning to the crowd, he added, “I’ve seen this ship with my own eyes. I saw it take a full-grown horse up into the sky, never to be seen again. And she - ” he nodded at Jeanne “Has seen it take people with her own eyes! I swear on my word, she’s telling the truth!”
“And I swear, on my mother’s grave, that it was the Magonians! I’ve seen their ship, seen them take livestock, wild animals, people, anything that it can catch! Listen:” her voice turned slightly gentler, but still carried the same firm tone as before. “I came here today to warn you about this, because I cared about you! You may choose to believe me or not, but I wanted to give you that choice! I believe that all of you are smart enough to decide for yourselves whether or not I’m being honest. But I am. You can stay here…or you can die. The choice is yours.”
The crowd was silent, turning over her words in their heads. ‘Belle’, while a very odd girl, was not one to lie or exaggerate when it came to matters like this. They hadn’t listened to her father about the beast, and that didn’t end well. They hadn’t listened to Belle herself about the beast not being dangerous, that Gaston shouldn’t try to kill it, and now he was dead because of it. Not a whole lot of good had come from not listening to the strange father-daughter duo. But how could they believe Belle on this? It was just too far-fetched.
Maurice could. He turned to the crowd and added, “Well I believe her. I trust my daughter’s judgement. She’s an honest girl, and she wouldn’t lie about something like this.” He turned to Jeanne and Adam, “Now if you two will excuse me, I have a cart to pack.” He started walking away back through the crowd, to his house to get his things.
He wasn’t the only one. The town librarian said, “I believe her as well. She’s smart, smarter than anyone else in this town - ” He ignored the offended gasps from the crowd. “and her word is as good as anyone’s. I’m coming with you.” He went off to collect the few books in the town library, and his personal things.
Then another person spoke up. And another, and another. The priest, fuming that the townspeople were taking Jeanne seriously, had glared threateningly at her before skulking back to the church. In total, about half of the town had gone to grab whatever they could, leaving their houses empty. The other half of the town mocked them, tauntingly saying that they were letting a fairy tale scare them into uprooting their lives. Although, among the latter group, some of their taunts were not said with much conviction.
They all met up at the edge of the village. One of the villagers asked Jeanne, “But where will we go from here? The roads are impassible in the winter, and the storms are on their way!”
Adam and Jeanne exchanged a look. This was something neither of them had considered. Where could they go? They would get caught by that thing if they stayed out on the open road for too long, even if the road was a viable option. What were they going to do?
Adam got a strange look in his eye, and he turned to address Jeanne. “I know where we can take them.”
____________________________________________________________________________________
This was, by far, the most people that the castle had hosted at once. Half the village didn’t sound like a lot at first, but considering that ‘half’ was about two hundred people, it suddenly was a lot. It helped somewhat that most of the villagers would be staying down in the wine cellars, with only the oldest or sickest people in the castle proper, but that didn’t matter to most of the servants.
Cogsworth, in particular, was incensed at this turn of events. “Now this is outrageous, simply outrageous! This is far too many people for my liking, if you ask me!”
“Au contraire,” Lumière countered, “I see nothing wrong at all with the number of guests here tonight! The more the merrier, I say!”
The two of them were discussing this as they helped direct people to the cellars, or their rooms, and helped answer any questions any of the villagers might have. Lumière was more than happy to help, Cogsworth not so much.
“It’s that girl’s fault!” Cogsworth griped, “She talked the master into this insane idea! I heard that she snuck off to the village this morning, disobeying his direct order! Clearly this is her doing!”
“That would where you’d be wrong, mon ami. I heard that it was the master’s idea to let them stay in the castle.”
“What?!” Cogsworth gasped. He simply couldn’t believe his ears. “You – you can’t be serious!”
“I know, the irony is hilarious, non?” Lumière laughed. “And to think only ten years ago he was turning away one old beggar away from the door, and now he’s inviting half the village into the castle! How times have changed, my friend!”
“That - that doesn’t change anything! He would have never done it if the girl hadn’t talked them into leaving in the first place! Did you hear that she claimed that Magonians were going to attack the village? Magonians! She’s clearly mad, claiming something out of a fairytale is threatening their lives!”
“Look who’s talking,” Lumière pointed out, smirking at the majordomo.
“You know what I mean!”
Several floors above, Jeanne was talking with Belle and Maurice. She’d been a bit disappointed to learn that apparently Maurice knew she wasn’t Belle the whole time. Then again, it made sense; while he was rather absent-minded, he would certainly know his own daughter from an imposter. After explaining to him what had happened over the past few days (leaving out the time travel part), Maurice brushed it aside.
“It’s good to see you again, Papa,” Belle said to her father. “I’ve missed you so much!”
“I’ve miss you too, Belle. You haven’t been out to visit that often since you got married!”
“I’m sorry about that. It’s been rather busy here, and with the past few days - ”
“Now don’t you worry about that! I’m sure we can arrange something once this is all over.”
“I’d love that,” Belle replied with a smile.
Jeanne watched them interacting from the side, feeling grateful yet also a little sad. She admittedly didn’t have such warm feelings for her own father, who was quite cold and distant. The stresses of his job and the past eight years had taken their toll on him, and on their relationship in general. She would have loved to have a father like Maurice, but it just wasn’t meant to be. At least she was able to save Belle’s father. Earlier, the princess had pulled her aside and quietly thanked her for finding Maurice and bringing him to safety. Knowing that she had saved someone else’s father had been enough to sooth Jeanne’s spirits.
She was wandering around the room Maurice was staying in, not really paying attention to anything when she spotted a strange wooden box the old inventor had brought. It was large and latched close with a brass lock, and when Jeanne jiggled it, she didn’t hear anything inside move around.
Noticing what she was doing, Maurice came over and started explaining, “Now be careful with that, it’s my latest invention! It’s not ready yet, I’m not finished with it.”
“What is it? Can I see it?”
Maurice seemed delightfully surprised that Jeanne wanted to see one of his inventions, and obliged her, “Well, yes, go ahead! Let me open it for you.” He unlocked the box and pulled out…well, Jeanne wasn’t quite sure what to call it. Belle came over to take a closer look too. Neither of them could make heads or tails of it.
It was a glass bulb, whose previous use Jeanne couldn’t guess, with a copper collar around the opening. There were a couple of copper wires would around the collar, with the excess coiled into a loop at the bottom of the box. There were wires inside the bulb too, bent into a loop and curled around the collar. The ends of the wires in the loop had clips on them, big ones meant for clipping onto something equally big.
“What does it do?” Jeanne asked.
“Well it connects to a large metal rod set up on top of my home, only when it’s set up properly can I show you what it does,” Maurice admitted, “But when it is, the results are amazing!”
“What happens?”
“When a large storm passes by, if a bolt of lightning hits the rod, it shoots down these wires and makes the bulb light up!”
“You should be more careful, Papa!” Belle exclaimed. “You could get hurt working with lightning.”
“I can attest to that,” Jeanne added wryly.
Maurice looked at her strangely, but Jeanne added that she’ll explain later. As Maurice continued to explain his invention, she looked closer at the bulb. It was clear to her that Maurice was experimenting with electricity, which intrigued her. He could only make the bulb light up for a second, but if he could sustain the reaction it would be incredible. Then she thought back to how her Christmas lights had gone out when the thing passed by the castle. There must be some sort of connection between the two. Jeanne looked deep into the glass of the bulb, her eyes tracing the copper wire loop inside. What if…
____________________________________________________________________________________
December 10th, 1742
It had been a rather intense past few days. Jeanne, Adam, and Belle had read through On Hail and Thunder several times, trying to see if there was anything in there tying it to the thing. . Speaking of which, the three of them had taking to calling the thing the Magonians. If it was a ship carrying people, they should refer to those people by their proper name.
The bits of folklore the bishop described matched several facts they knew about the ship: they created storms when they visited the surface world and took people, animals, and crops with them. None of them were sure that the ship took crops too, but everything else about it was true. Their country, Magonia, was located high up in the clouds, which is why no one had found it yet. If the ship also sailed full time high in the clouds, it made sense why no one had found a ground-based location for it yet.
On the other hand, the Magonian ship had characteristics that weren’t described in the bishop’s book. Such as how it would rain down inorganic objects at seemingly random intervals. That was one thing that frustrated Jeanne especially, and today she seemed to have hit a dead end. She had been taking notes on what they were reading, and she threw the pen down in frustration. “We’ve been through this book four times now, and we’ve learned nothing new! What are we going to learn on a fifth try?”
“How you found anything else in the library?” Belle asked. “You’re in there almost as much as I am, which is certainly saying something!”
“Nothing that I haven’t found already! Fife and I have combed through that place top to bottom, and there’s nothing new that can help!”
“I didn’t know Fife was helping you,” Adam commented. He sounded surprised, and a little bit suspicious.
“Yes, he’s been a great help,” Jeanne replied, not noticing the implications of Adam’s words.
“Is that all he is?” Belle asked coyly. “I’ve seen you too in there together whenever I’m there, and you act awfully friendly with him.”
Jeanne was paying attention now. Blushing, she stammered, “Well, he’s a friend! He’s been helping me as a friend, there’s nothing else going on there!”
She pointedly turned back to her notes, ending the conversation. Adam and Belle looked at each other curiously, before turning back to their own notes. A few minutes later, Jeanne suddenly sat up straighter and said, “Wait, why did I think of that before?”
“Think of what before?” Adam asked.
“This,” she explained. Digging around in her bag, she pulled out a dark red book with brass lettering embossed on the cover. Setting it down on the table, the royals couldn’t help but notice the rather ominous-sounding title: The Book of the Damned. “It’s not what you think,” Jeanne clarified. “The ‘damned’ in this book refers to data and information. It talks about how certain kinds of knowledge have been dismissed by modern science because it doesn’t conform to an already accepted belief.”
Belle rolled her eyes and commented, “Nice to know that even in the future, new ideas are still shunned.”
“It’s not as bad as it was,” Jeanne replied. “Or rather, as it is, given the circumstances. Anyway, I think there’s something in here that could help us.” She began flipping through the pages, until she got to the section she wanted and pointed a finger. “Here! Come look at this!” Belle looked over her shoulder at the page in question, and Jeanne summarized its contents. “It talks about these strange things called ‘falls’, basically when things such as frogs, fish, and unidentifiable objects fall from the sky. That matches what you saw the ship do when I first arrived.”
Belle hummed in interest and took the book to read herself. Thumbing through the pages, she read the ones that caught her eye, as if she was searching for something particular. After several minutes, she handed the book back to Jeanne, frowning and stating, “There’s nothing in there that explains why those ‘falls’ happened though. The author just describes them, without explaining them.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Jeanne admitted. “I just thought it might be helpful.”
“It was,” Belle reassured. “It’s just not enough to…‘connect the dots’, so to speak.”
“Too bad all the villagers that like us are already here,” Jeanne chuckled half-heartedly, “We could have gone to the market and looked for some other books to check out.”
“I’d be very surprised if they started selling books in the village,” Belle stated. “There isn’t exactly an abundance of buyers for them.”
“And books are rather expensive,” Adam added. "I don’t know how things are in your time Jeanne, but not everyone can afford to buy them.”
“Wait…” Jeanne muttered, seeming to have forgotten the book discussion. She remembers now, at the village marketplace there was a section of it devoted to buying and selling livestock. She hadn’t given it much thought on her last visit there, but a thought had just occurred to her. It was a long shot, but just maybe…
She got up and headed for the doors. “I’ll be back by sundown. I’m heading to the village.”
“Again?” Adam exclaimed.
“What for? Everyone that listened to you is already here,” Belle added.
Jeanne looked back at them and replied, “I’m getting my horse back.” Then she left the room and headed for the stables.
Adam groaned and got up from his chair. “Better go after her, make sure she doesn’t get into trouble again. Do you want to come with?” he asked Belle, but she didn’t hear him. She was nose deep into The Book of the Damned, reading a section towards the back with an increasingly concerned expression. “Belle, love, what’s wrong?” he asked, walking towards her and peering over her shoulder.
“Adam, look at this,” Belle said, sitting down in a nearby armchair. She pointed to the section of the book she’d been reading. “This book also talks about mythological creatures, strange animals that, according to the rules of Jeanne’s world, shouldn’t exist. It’s quite fascinating, and I’d love to read more later when I have the time, but…reading this got me thinking.”
“About what?”
“You remember Gaston, right?”
Adam’s eyes narrowed and he growled, “How could I forget him? Why did you bring him up?”
“Well, back when he still thought he could woo me, he would sometimes bring back his latest kill for me to admire. You could imagine how I felt about that,” Belle shuttered at the thought. What on Earth made Gaston think she would be impressed? “Anyway, if he’d killed something like a wolf or a bear, he’d go into great detail about the hunt itself. How he’d outsmarted the wolf, how the bear would attack once he charged, things like that. So, that led me to think…this ship we’ve been trying to learn about, it’s behaved a lot like a wolf. Or a bear.”
This theory stunned Adam. He tried to wrap his head around it, the idea that a ship could be crewed to act like a predator. But he wasn’t quite sure he bought into the idea. “Can you explain what you mean?” he asked Belle.
“The night Jeanne brought the statue out to the field. The Magonians only decided to attack after you and Jeanne both looked at their ship. A bear only attacks people if they make eye contact. And later, when the ship was in the clouds, it only came out of hiding to take Esprit. The same way a large cat would lie in wait, hiding until the moment it killed its prey.”
Adam was starting to feel uneasy with where Belle was going. He could guess what Belle was thinking, and honestly, he was starting to think that too. He didn’t dare voice it out loud though. It sounded too outrageous, too horrifying, to be true.
He didn’t have to. Belle asked the question on his mind for him.
“This thing we’re chasing…what if it’s not a ship?”
____________________________________________________________________________________
Later That Day
It was a bright and beautiful day in the village. There was fresh snow on the ground, with a few light flakes continuing to fall, making for a picturesque scene. The late afternoon sun was shining, it was the holiday season, and everyone was in a good mood. It was a bit odd, having half the village missing, but no one paid much mind. It was their loss; while they were hiding out and living in fear, the smart people would go out and live their lives as normal.
The marketplace was bustling that day. At the moment, two men were haggling over the sale of a horse. It was a beautiful specimen; a tall, strong stallion like this one didn’t come along every day. It had a lustrous blue roan coat that even with the dirt and water soaking it, still had a brilliant sheen. The stallion also had dark socks on his legs, a dark muzzle, and straight ears that pointed up. Despite the seller’s best attempts to wrangle him, the horse still paced nervously and looked like he was only moments from kicking the man.
“So, this that prize horse you were talking about, Pierre?” the potential buyer asked.
“Sure is, Louis!” Pierre confirmed. “Found this beaut running wild through the forest meself! Had a saddle ’n bridle ‘n everything!”
“You sure it isn’t someone else’s horse? If it had a saddle already - ”
“I’m sure, Lou! Been almost a fortnight since I found him and no one’s claimed him. He’s mine now! To sell, that is.”
“Are the saddle and bridle for sale?”
“If you’re willing to pay extra,” Pierre haggled.
“Now Pierre, we’ve been friends for a long time, you really gonna charge a friend extra for a measly saddle and bridle?”
“Now Louis, these aren’t any saddle and bridle, they’re top of the line! The saddle also comes with bags, filled with all sorts of weird stuff!”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Dunno. You can have that for free, it’s all junk as far as I’m concerned. But the set of riding gear, now that’s another thing…”
On the other side of town, the village priest was stepping outside of the church to head to the market himself. He felt a little on edge, given what had happened a few days ago. That inventor’s daughter had already caused too much trouble in his village, and now she was running around telling tall tales, making people frightened! Good riddance to her, as far as he was concerned. And that went for the villagers that listened to her too. He didn’t need people as easily swayed as that among his flock, at least everyone else here were good Christian folk –
A sudden rumble from the sky interrupted his thoughts. Turning in the direction it came from, he looked up, only to see nothing but a few clouds. Probably just thunder, he thought. It was a little odd; the rest of the sky was mostly clear, so a storm shouldn’t be on the way so soon. He was about to resume his day when he saw a bunch of peoples stopping in their tracks. They all turned to look behind him, at the spot in the sky he was just looking at. Some of them whispered amongst themselves, some of them remained silent and wide-eyed in awe. A child holding his mother’s hand pointed up and yelled, “Look Mama, look! Up there in the cloud!”
The priest turned back to the sky. Upon taking a second look, he saw a dark shadow moving towards him inside the largest cloud. It was massive, as wide as thirty horse lengths lined up end-to-end. It was round, and he could vaguely see under it. There was a dark hole on the bottom, about ten horse lengths wide with a long dark streak leading away from it. As he watched, there was another rumbling sound, but at the same time he saw a powerful gust of air blow down from the hole. When he heard it a second time, the priest noted that it didn’t exactly sound like thunder. There was a quality to it; a growling, roaring, almost living quality to it. When it roared, he saw something long and colorful dangling from the hole ruffle in the wind.
“Father, what is that?” he heard someone ask.
The priest turned around, startled, and answered, “Well, I’m not exactly sure, my child. This is new, even for someone as old as I am.”
“It’s big!” someone else said.
“What if Belle was right?” a third voice nervously asked. “This is the great danger, it’ll get us all!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” the second voice answered. “It’s just a bit of strange weather, right Father?”
“Look, it’s gone!” a fourth voice exclaimed.
Looking back, the priest saw that indeed, the strange thing was not in the cloud anymore. Sighing with relief internally, he addressed the people, “See, nothing to be worried about!” The villagers seemed convinced with his answer, and decided to resume their day. He even felt like he had convinced himself that nothing was wrong.
And it would have stayed that if he didn’t feel his hair stand on end. The priest didn’t know what it was, but it felt like there was something wrong with the air. It felt like…not exactly heavier, but more palpable. Like he could feel the air all around him, almost like it was alive somehow. He dismissed it as the cold and rubbed his arms nervously. He noticed that other people were doing the same thing, rubbing their arms and the backs of their necks. It had to be the cold, there was nothing else it could be…right?
Suddenly, a series of loud clicking sounds could be heard. No, not exactly clicking, popping, like something that had collapsed close was opening back up. The priest thought it was an eerie sound, the kind of sound that one would hear moments before disaster struck. Looking back to the now large crowd, he saw many of them pointing somewhere behind him, yelling “It’s back!” The priest didn’t turn around though. He knew what they were talking about.
The air pressure dropped. His ears popped. Around him, he could see drifts of snow blowing up from the ground and start swirling in the air. It was a snowstorm falling in reverse, a blizzard that raced towards the sky instead of the ground. A miracle to be sure, but…what kind of miracle is it if it wasn’t a good one?
The snow wasn’t the only thing falling from the ground. People were being lifted into the air, towards the leviathan being creating the reverse snowstorm. He could hear screams of shock as they were yanked violently upwards, disappearing from view as they entered the dark hole at the being’s center. Many of them tried to grab ahold of something to stop their ascent; a woman gripping the corner of a house until she was pulled away, her fingers broken and bleeding from being snapped in two. A man hanging onto his wife with one arm, wrapping his free arm around the beam holding up the well. The beam snapped in two and both of them were carried away. A child desperately clawing at the snow, trying to grab something that would save her. It was all in vain, and she too was swallowed by the circular abyss.
The priest didn’t scream as he felt his feet leave the ground. He didn’t try to run, he knew deep down that it would be for naught. He spread his arms wide, as if he were being crucified. Closing his eyes, he leaned back and began rising up, feeling the cold snow whip away at his robes. A sudden chill settled on him as he entered the dark hole.
Was this what it was like to be raptured?
____________________________________________________________________________________
It watched with anticipation as the humans were sucked up into its mouth, and shoved into its esophagus one by one. This meal was smaller than what it was used to, but it would be enough for now. It had to feed. It wanted to feed. It was accustomed to much larger meals to sustain its mass. Even among its own kind, it was a beast. The top of the food chain. Of all the monsters that prowled in the skies, it was the king of those monsters. And a king takes what is rightfully his. It had been deprived of nourishment for far too long, because of the thing.
It didn’t know what the thing, that challenger had done, but something happened to its throat so it couldn’t eat as much as before. It burned to swallow, and the feeling had been worse right after it had happened. And while it was still healing, the thing fed it something that wouldn’t let it eat at all. It would almost say the thing was cruel, but that wasn’t true. It was an apex predator, just like itself. There could only be one standing at the apex. And it had reigned supreme for thousands of years. It was not ready to give up its crown anytime soon.
The last of the humans had been swallowed. It had finished feeding.
____________________________________________________________________________________
It was dark. Dark and warm. The warmth was not a soothing one though, more of a choking, suffocating kind of warmth that would be found inside an oven. The priest didn’t know what had happened, but somehow he was pushed to the front of the line. The darkness was so complete that it pressed against his eyeballs, choking his vision with blackness. He entered the tube first, his eyes too useless to warn him of the horrors that lie ahead.
It was tight. The walls around him crushed him in, forcing his legs to straighten and his arms to painfully point ahead of him. He felt himself begin to hyperventilate, desperately trying to get any air into his lungs. The walls were closed in all the way around his head, and he felt himself shaking. With a sudden flex, one of the walls flexed inward, and with an audible snap! his arm and half of his ribcage were reduced to mere bone fragments. The walls were even tighter behind him, as they forced him higher up the tube.
It was loud. The screams of everyone behind him were contained in this tight corridor, trapping the sound and causing his ears to ring. His head began to throb, and his heart began to race. Some people were so terrified that they emptied their stomachs, clogging up the tube with a foul stench. Others wet themselves with fear, and the putrid concoction ran down the fleshy walls and coated the people waiting below. The priest gagged from the smell and resisted the urge to vomit himself. There were people crying out for their loved ones; children screaming for their mothers, husbands screaming for their wives, siblings screaming for one another. Mostly, though? People were just screaming, too scared out of their minds to form words.
It was wet. The walls were secreting some sort of fluid, and when it touched the priest’s skin it burned. It soaked the back of his head, and he felt his scalp begin to slough off his skull. The severed flap of skin slid down the tube, releasing from the wall with a wet-sounding splooge and falling on the face of the woman below him. Looking ahead at his hand, the priest saw the fluid began to eat through the tissues, exposing muscles, blood vessels, and bone.
He felt something up ahead. It felt like a snout of some kind, the muzzle of some sort of animal. Straining in the darkness, he could make out an equine head, ears drooping to the side. The priest had succeeded at not screaming this whole time, trying to remain calm as best as he could. His hand reached out for the head and softly pet it. Why wasn’t the horse struggling? Feeling a lack of fur, he looked closer and saw exposed tissue. Its snout was nothing but muscle, and everything past the cheekbone was completely skeletal. A dark empty eye socket stared back at him. That was the last thing he saw before the fluid – no, stomach acid, he knew it was now – fell across his face, blinding him in an instant.
And at last, the priest screamed.
____________________________________________________________________________________
It was almost sunset by the time Jeanne reached the village. The snow had stopped falling and the sky had turned a pretty peach color, with pink coral stretching towards the eastern horizon before giving way to indigo, heralding the approaching night. It was almost blissfully quiet, almost…too quiet. It was a minute before Jeanne realized why it was so quiet: the birds were not singing.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” a man’s voice said behind her.
Jeanne turned around on Frileux and looked into the woods ahead. Adam, riding Joan, and Belle, riding Phillipe, trotted out of the trees and onto the path.
“You didn’t have to come,” Jeanne sighed.
“It’s too dangerous to be out alone!” Belle insisted. “Even though someone - ” she looked pointedly at Adam, “insisted on trying to follow you by himself.”
“Belle, you could get hurt!” Adam protested.
“So can you!” she insisted.
“Guys, it’s okay,” Jeanne interrupted. “You’re here now, so let’s just try to make this quick.”
“The market should be closed by now, I’m not sure what you’re hoping to find,” Belle said.
Jeanne was about to reply when she saw the village. She sat upright in Frileux’s saddle, her jaw slack and her eyes wide in disbelief. “What – what happened here?” she asked.
Adam and Belle rode up beside her and saw the carnage themselves. Adam gasped, appalled by the wreckage before him. Belle’s hands covered her mouth and she silently cried, horrified and grieving at the state her home was in.
The village was destroyed. Most of the buildings had had their tops ripped off, the thatched roofs lying scattered across the street and in the square. Splintered pieces of wood littered the ground. Some of them lay flat, while other pieces stood upright in the mud. Personal effects, farming implements, and other belongings lay among the wreckage, most of them broken to some extent or another. Looking into the distance, Adam noted that the church’s steeple had collapsed. Jeanne watched as a trio of sheep, huddled under an awning about to collapse, scurried away into the woods. Whatever had happened here, it was worth it taking their chances with the wolves.
“What could have done this?” Belle whispered.
“Where is everyone?” Adam added.
There was that too. There were no people in the village, trying to pick up the pieces of their home. No parents trying to locate their children, no siblings trying to find each other, no shepherd followed the sheep that ran off. There were so many people here before, even after half the village had left. Where were the villagers?
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” Jeanne said resolutely. She flicked Frileux’s reins and started forward.
“Now wait a minute,” Adam implored, grabbing Jeanne’s arm.
“What, what is it?”
“Something’s not right.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s too quiet.”
“We’ve established that.”
“No! I mean, it’s too quiet. Have you noticed the birds have stopped singing?”
Jeanne listened. Sure enough, she couldn’t hear any sort of birdsong. “Now that you mention it, no, I don’t hear any birds. What are you trying to say, Your Highness?”
“The day we found you, the birds weren’t singing. That was when we also heard the wind acting strange. Don’t you get it? If you can’t hear the birds singing, then the ship is close by.”
Now Jeanne was starting to understand. They couldn’t afford a confrontation with the Magonians yet, so secrecy was paramount at the moment. “Okay, I see your point. But Faust could be in there, I can’t just leave!”
“We’ll stick together,” Belle suggested, trotting Phillipe forward. “We can keep each other safe if we’re not separated. Now let’s hurry. I – I don’t want to stay any longer than I have to.” It was clear from Belle’s voice that she was shaken by seeing her home like this, smashed into too many pieces to put back together. And still she blazed ahead, determined to find out what happened to all those people. Adam and Jeanne followed Belle into the ruins of the village. No one was sure what they would find, but something told them it wouldn’t be pretty.
They’d spent about twenty minutes searching for Faust, but nothing had turned up. During this time, the sun had set even lower on the horizon, and the sky had turned a pink blush that gave way to lavender. To the east, some of the first stars had started to come out, but the view was partially blocked by the approach of storm clouds. It was debatable whether or not it would precipitate rain or snow, the temperature was borderline, but hopefully they would be out of here before then.
The last place they checked was the marketplace. All three of them had tied their horses to a nearby hitch and looked around on foot. Jeanne gasped when she saw a tall blue roan stallion tied to a hitch rail at a stall on the other end of the street. The stall itself was demolished, but the rail and rope holding the horse in place held up. He had a saddle and bridle on him, almost as if someone was preparing to ride off with him right before the attack.
“That’s him! That’s Faust!” she exclaimed excitedly.
“Great! Now grab him and let’s go!” Adam commanded.
She was about to do just that when all three of them heard the wind overhead. It didn’t exactly sound like the wind, though. There was a strange quality to it, but now all three of them knew what it was: it wasn’t the wind of all.
It was the sound of people screaming.
On instinct all three of them looked up, desperately searching the sky for any sign of it. Then they spotted it. Towards the west, a dark shadow rose over the horizon and disappeared into a cloud. It was far away from them, about five or so kilometers, but that didn’t help matters at all. Jeanne felt her heart begin to race as she tiptoed away from Adam and Belle. Her head was beginning to hurt, and her bones started to ache as they began shifting. It was happening again. She growled softly to herself as she slipped out of sight.
“We need to get out of here. Jeanne, I’m sorry but - ” Adam turned to address the young woman but stopped when he saw she wasn’t there. “Where is she?” he asked, his voice tense.
“I don’t know, she was just right here!” Belle replied, looking frantically around. “We can’t leave until we find her!”
The sound of wind and screaming was heard again, but a little bit closer this time.
“We can’t stay here, Belle! The ship is right over there and we’ll get caught!”
“So what? We just leave that poor girl to fend for herself? Is that it?!”
“No, I – that’s not what I meant. We’ll come back for her once it’s safe. And trust me, she’s more than capable of fending for herself, she’ll be fine!”
“But what if she isn’t?”
The screaming was a little closer now, and the hairs on the back of the royals’ necks stood up. The air felt electric, the way it was before an oncoming storm. Neither of them noticed.
“Just because she can protect herself doesn’t mean she doesn’t need us, we need to find her NOW!”
“I knew it was a bad idea to let you come along!”
“Excuse me, ‘let me’? I don’t need your permission, or anyone’s, to follow my husband and make sure he’s all right!”
“That’s not what I meant!”
The screaming had now come even closer, almost as if it was right above their heads. A series of clicking and popping noises followed, and the ship prepared for another attack.
“Look, just because she’s capable doesn’t mean she isn’t scared! Did it ever occur to you how alone she is, that the chances of her returning to her own time are very slim! She could never go home again, do you understand? Adam? Adam!”
He didn’t respond. He starting backing up, the color draining from his face and his boots shuffling in the mud. Confused, Belle turned to see what he was looking at and felt herself grow faint. She grabbed Adam’s arm as they began running for the nearest shelter.
The ship had seen them. Flying in fast, it leveled out as it reached the marketplace. Faust began bucking and kicking, and was able to snap the rope holding him before darting down a side street. Frileux, Joan, and Phillipe took off towards the square, hoping to outrun their attacker.
It was pale, and as it came closer Belle and Adam saw that it wasn’t perfectly round: it was more of an oblong shape. It tilted on its side, blocking out the last light of sunset and exposing its underbelly. It had a long burnt streak leading away from a massive hole, dark and swallowing any light. The wind that it generated, pulling anything caught in it, whipped around them as they desperately searched for shelter. The air pressure dropped, and both Adam and Belle’s ears popped. But the worst part were the screams. Now that it was right on top of them, both of them could hear not just screaming, but actual words:
“Help me, it burns!”
“I can’t see, Oh God I can’t see!”
“Lord help us, PLEASE!”
“I can’t breathe, it’s crushing me!”
“MOMMY!”
It was almost too much, too unbearable for them. But they were determined to survive. Spotting a cellar door, they ran over to it and yanked at the latch, which refused to budge. Belle screamed as her feet were lifted off the ground, Adam clinging desperately to her. He felt his grip begin to slip…
Something large slammed into them from behind. Something with claws that dug into their backs, something strong enough to bust the door in and sent all three of them flying into the cellar. Adam felt his head collide with something hard, and he was knocked out cold.
____________________________________________________________________________________
The first of his senses to return to him was smell. It smelled like rain; rain and mildew. There was another smell that was harder to place; something familiar, but not in a good way. When his hearing returned, it confirmed his initial suspicions: it was raining outside. Sitting up, Adam groaned when he felt how sore his back was. Turning to the window, he saw that it was now night. He felt something warm and sticky on his forehead. Bringing a hand up to it, he pulled it away to reveal fresh blood. He would have to fix that later.
His memory came rushing back. “BELLE!” he cried out.
“Over here, Adam,” she replied.
He quickly pulled himself over to her, thanking every god in existence that she was okay. Belle was leaning against a wooden barrel, winding a piece of fabric torn from her gown around her arm. Judging by the blood seeping through it, Adam could tell that it had been cut. She was scuffed up, covered in dirt from the cellar floor, but still alive.
“You’re hurt! We need to get you out of here!” he insisted.
“You’re hurt too!” Belle gasped, seeing the wound on his head. “We all need to get out of here.”
“Right. Did…did you find Jeanne?” he asked, sounding ashamed. As Belle tore off another strip of fabric and bandaged up his head, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He was the one that insisted on leaving her behind, and if she had been taken…he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to forgive himself.
“She’s over there,” Belle answered, pointing into the corner of the cellar opposite them. “But she hasn’t left that corner, or said a word, since I woke up.”
Adam looked. When he did, the smell he couldn’t identify got stronger, and he finally recognized it: it was the smell of wet fur. Was there an animal hiding in the cellar with them? Something like a dog or a goat, perhaps. But he didn’t hear anything that sounded like one of them. He’d get that answer later. He looked again at Jeanne, as saw that she was huddled in on herself. He couldn’t see much of her, for her corner was shrouded in darkness and she was only a shadow. Her cloak was pulled over her shoulders, and Jeanne was turned away from them.
“Jeanne, you’re okay,” Adam noted. “Look, I’m – I’m sorry that I suggested leaving you behind. I was just scared, and I wanted to leave. That doesn’t make what I did acceptable though. I’m just glad that you weren’t taken - ”
“Eaten.”
Adam and Belle were stunned by Jeanne’s voice, both by what she said and how she said it. It was distinctly her voice, but it didn’t sound right. Her voice was hoarser and deeper than normal, and she didn’t say the word so much as she growled it. Currently though, they were more perplexed by the word she used, “What?” Adam asked. “What do you mean, Jeanne?”
“It ate them. It ate them all,” she stated, her voice now sounding like it was on the verge of tears. “And I let it happen!” She raised a hand to the cellar wall, a hand that looked larger than normal, and swiped it down the bricks. There was a scraping sound, like nails on glass but stronger. “I should have known before, there was more that I could do, I - ”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Belle said soothingly. “We did our best to help them, and that’s more than anyone else would have done.” The tremor in her voice suggested that she was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince Jeanne. “We saved half the village, aren’t you happy about that?”
“That’s not what I meant! All of them are dead, all of them!” Jeanne was roaring out her words at this point, her voice choked up in emotion.
“What makes you think it ate them?” Adam asked carefully, trying to take her mind off the ‘all of them’ train of thought.
“There was one other thing that I forgot about UFO’s,” Jeanne began. “When people first began describing them, properly that is, they were theorized to be living beings instead of ships. People thought they were alive, and that when they took people they were eating them. The way this ‘ship’ behaved…it just confirmed it. You see…” she chuckled darkly, “I have more insight than most into the mind of an animal. The way it hid in the clouds, like a wolf stalking a sheep…why the people and animals it took were never seen again…why it attacked the village when it saw me.”
“What do you mean?” Adam asked.
Jeanne was silent.
Belle had an idea. She turned to the younger woman and soothingly said, “Jeanne, I want you to come into the light.”
Jeanne hesitated. She weighed the decision carefully in her mind, as if it was a matter of life or death. She knew she couldn’t hide any longer. With a defeated sigh, she inched forward, sliding her foot into the light first. Adam and Belle’s eyes widened when they saw her foot. It was covered in dark brown fur, wet from the rain outside. The digitigrade foot had toes that were tipped in claws, and Belle felt something akin to déjà vu. The rest of the leg slid into the light, still covered in fur, and then the rest of Jeanne emerged from the shadows. Despite being hunched over, like she was trying to appear smaller, they could tell that Jeanne was taller than normal now. Her arms, like her legs, were covered in fur, and the claw-tipped fingers drummed nervously as they gripped the cloak over her head. Adam’s heart raced. He remembered an earlier encounter like this one, but now he felt like his role had been reversed. Belle, unafraid, watched in fascination as Jeanne dropped the cloak over her head and let it fall to the floor with a wet thump. Her head was where the most startling change had taken place. Monstrous fangs jutted out of her jaws, upper and lower, and her mouth and nose were pulled forward into a muzzle. A pair of long horns curled above her head.
Though Jeanne’s fur stood on end, Belle looked into her eyes and saw that she was scared. Scared, and ashamed. With a start, she finally realized where she’d seen those eyes before.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” the Beast said.
Chapter 4: Forte
Notes:
Grab your umbrellas, 'cause there's a storm coming, folks!
In other news, enjoy the chapter!
Chapter Text
December 10th, 1742
It was an hour before midnight, and the master, Belle, and Jeanne were supposed to be back hours ago. Something was wrong. Fife wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. He was walking down the castle corridors from the library, on his way to his personal quarters. He’d spent the past few hours after dinner alternating between working on his latest composition and looking for more information about this ‘ship’. That was the working theory Jeanne was going with, and a small part of him was proud of the fact that he’d given her the idea. He wanted to continue to be useful, which is why he spent more and more of his time in the library. It was late though, and he wanted to retire for the evening. Fife knew though that it would be difficult to fall asleep tonight, knowing that Jeanne and both rulers were still missing. Hopefully they would be back by the morning.
He was walking past one of the guest rooms when he saw a strange glow emanating from within. Curious, he gently cracked open the door by a hair and looked inside. Judging by the large bag in the corner and the pile of books on the table, he guessed that this was Jeanne’s room. There were two books lying open on the table, one of them being On Hail and Thunder, but Fife ignored that. He was more curious about the strange set of colorful bulbs hanging around the open window. They were all connected by a thick black wire, and miraculously they all glowed with their own light. The wire led to a small black box sitting on the floor by the window.
He stared, transfixed by the lights. Was it some sort of sorcery? Did Jeanne possess her own magic? Fife was confused, maybe even a little frightened, by how the bulbs were staying lit. Where could Jeanne have gotten such strange lights? Was kind of secrets was she keeping from him?
Before he could question it further, the lights slowly dimmed and quickly faded out. Confused, Fife stepped into the room, forgetting for a moment how rude it was to go into someone’s quarters uninvited. Before he could get far, he heard a soft rumble in the distance. Startled, he looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember where he’d heard it before. It wasn’t thunder, but something else. He felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, and the air around him felt energized.
Then he remembered where he’d heard the sound before.
He bolted out of the room and down a flight of stairs. The kitchens were not far, and he had to act fast. Reaching his destination, he grabbed a large knife used for slicing meat and raced out of there. Fife didn’t know how helpful it would be, but having something to protect himself with was better than nothing.
He was running past the ballroom when he saw most of the other servants were gathered in there already. Most of them were still dressed, refusing to go to bed until the master and Belle returned. Some of the villagers were gathered there too, keeping to themselves and not engaging with the castle staff.
Fife walked over nervously and continued looking up at the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge anyone else for the time being. Mrs. Potts, spotting him, looked startled at seeing him so nervous and asked, “What’s gotten into you, dear? You look like the roof is going to cave in any second!”
Jumping, he turned to the older woman and replied, “It’s not the roof I’m worried about, ma’am.”
Seeing the large knife he held, she exclaimed, “Blooming heck, sir! What on earth would you need something like that for?”
Overhearing her, Lumière and Cogsworth paused their conversation to see what Mrs. Potts was talking about. They saw the knife in Fife’s hand and Lumière commented, “There, you see Cogsworth! It must be something other than a storm, otherwise why would the boy take the time to arm himself?”
“Are you still buying that preposterous Magonian idea?! For the final time, that girl is a lunatic! A raving lunatic! Honestly, with how smart all of you are, I’m shocked that any of you would even entertain the idea!” Cogsworth fumed. “And look! Now Fife has a knife! She’s gone too far this time, sowing fear among us!” He’d had it with Jeanne’s antics by now, but scaring his fellow staff with far-fetched stories about sky ships? She had crossed the line.
“Now are you still certain that it’s nothing more than foul weather, my good man? You seem quite confident in that assertion,” Forte jumped in, overhearing Cogsworth’s rant. The older court composer looked even more smug than usual, which was certainly saying something.
“Yes, it’s just a storm! Please, enlighten me, what makes you so certain that it’s not?” Cogsworth snapped accusingly, as if he were daring Forte to prove him wrong.
“Oh, nothing much, just that I’m older than most everyone else here, and I’ve never seen rain do that.” Forte replied, pointing a long finger towards the windows.
All five of them looked towards the massive stained glass windows, and noticing them, everyone else in the ballroom did the same. It had been raining steadily for a few hours now, turning the snow outside into thick slush that would make travel impossible. When they first looked, the freezing rain was falling right next to the castle, pounding the floor-to-ceiling windows and drumming out a staccato rhythm. But now, as they watched, the rain began to recede from the windows. It continued to fall, but now the wall of rain was being pushed away from them, as if a giant were holding an umbrella over the castle. The rainfall kept retreating, past the courtyard and the gardens, stopping just before the gates at the edge of the gorge.
Before any of them could question what had caused that, they heard screaming. What was unnerving about it was that it didn’t come from anyone in the ballroom, oh no. It was muffled, and sounded like it was coming from right above their heads. They only heard one voice screaming at first, a woman’s. It sounded hoarse, like she had been screaming for hours. The most chilling part about the scream? Its tone. It wasn’t a scream of excitement, or of fear, or even of pain. It was a scream of sheer despair. It was the scream of a person that knows their life is coming to an untimely end, and there was nothing they could do about it.
More voices joined the first, more screams continued to shout down from above until it filled the room like a choir of anguish. The voices were layered on top of each other, each one straining to be heard above the others. The rest of the people in the ballroom looked nervously up, whispering to themselves. The screaming was starting to get to them; it was too much for them to bear to listen to.
“Who is that?” Mrs. Potts asked nervously.
“Sacré bleu, it sounds like they’re being burned alive,” Lumière whispered.
“They very might well be,” Forte replied somberly. “Listen! Some of them are speaking.”
“I – I’d rather not,” Cogsworth stammered. He looked at Fife, who was staring up in silence and clutching the knife in both hands. His hands shook, and he held the knife so hard his knuckles turned white. “Fife! Who is that? You knew something was coming, you must know who that is!”
“I…I don’t know,” he answered. “Just that, whatever’s hurting them – it’s right above us.” As if to emphasize the point, a loud rumble echoed from overheard, drowning out the screams for a moment. The rumble, more like a roar, was so loud that several people clutched their ears in pain and fell to their knees. It rattled the stained-glass windows, threatening to shatter them. It could be felt through the floor, vibrating it and almost causing them to fall over. When the roar had passed, Fife found that he could hear the screams with more clarity, and he strained to make out what they were saying. He later regretted it.
“Somebody help us!”
“I’m burning, oh God I’M BURNING!”
“Please, END IT ALREADY!”
“GET US OUT OF HERE!”
With a wet squelching sound, the screams stopped.
Fife’s face turned pale and he started to feel faint. It was easy to guess what had happened to those people. The reactions of the others weren’t much better. Mrs. Potts gasped and brought a hand to her mouth, tears silently streaming down her face. Lumière had turned white as a sheet and was muttering “Mon Dieu,” to himself over and over. Cogsworth was shaking like a leaf, and even Forte look disturbed. He simply stared wide-eyed up above, his hands clenching and unclenching like he didn’t know what to do with them. They knew now that it wasn’t just a storm, but for once he took no pleasure in being right.
There was a massive groan from above, and it was silent. The silence was soon broken by repeated thumping sounds, like it was hailing but the hail was much larger. The thumping sometimes came in a rhythm, like something large was rolling down the castle roof. Other times it was a single, barely audible thud, like something small but compact had impacted. Looking outside, Forte saw what was causing the sound: unusual objects were raining down from the sky. Farming tools, animal harnesses, baskets, drinking glasses, clothes still clipped to the lines they had been hanging on. As they all watched, they saw a horse’s bridle get caught on one of the stone angels lining the roof, hanging around its neck like a noose. A blanket, quickly growing wet with rainwater, draped itself over the spire atop one of the towers, the pointed tip tearing a long rip through it. Most of the objects, they noted, weren’t passively falling from the sky. They were being ejected from the horror above, pelted against the castle walls. A plow, yoke still attached, was thrown with great force into the balcony outside. The blade embedded itself into the stone and made the plow stand upright, defying physics.
They thought that was the worst of it. A scream from the crowd proved them wrong.
People started shouting and rushing away from the windows, huddling against each other in the center of the ballroom. Looking to the nearest one, Forte saw why. Behind the stained glass, blood poured down the panels, turning the bright colors a darkened scarlet. The blood seemed to gush from the sky, flowing down the windows like a macabre waterfall. With their new coat of ‘paint’, the gaily designed scenes portrayed on the windows became grotesque and horrifying parodies of what they actually were. Beyond the windows, the white marble walls became stained with red, drenching this imperial symbol of power with the blood of its subjects. Blood, still warm from pulsing within someone’s arteries, hit the cold marble angels and dripped down, steaming, from their wings. Meanwhile, the rain of objects continued to fall. With a booming gong, a church bell fell from the sky and landed just outside the ballroom, its brass shape warped by the impact. It cracked the ancient stone and quickly gained a new coat of red paint.
There was no one in the crowd not affected by the sight. Most of them, villager and servant alike, were weeping and holding on to each other, forgetting their past grudges in the face of a shared horror. Some people couldn’t handle it, and ran off to be sick in one of the many bathrooms. No one left the ballroom alone. A few prayers could be heard muttered in the crowd, begging their god for mercy and confessing their sins. It wasn’t a stretch to think that they were next.
“I-I-If I admit you were right, do you swear not to gloat?” Cogsworth stuttered, his eyes unable to break away from the window.
Forte offered a curt nod, gloating being the last thing on his mind. For only the third or fourth time in his life, he felt genuinely afraid.
____________________________________________________________________________________
It had been surprisingly easy to locate all four horses. They hadn’t run far when the village was attacked again; Jeanne would argue that their loyalty to their masters outweighed their fear. Unfortunately, none of the three riders had thought to bring lanterns with them when they set off from the castle, so for the most part they were riding home in the dark. Jeanne had dug around in Faust’s saddlebags (the contents surprisingly untouched) and found a flashlight. Adam and Belle had at first stopped to ask about the little device, and marvel at it, but now they were focused on getting back.
Jeanne took the lead, riding Faust and holding the flashlight with one hand. With the other hand she held onto the stallion’s reins, keeping him steady. She was now human again, but neither royal could forget that not long ago she wore the face of the Beast. Jeanne hadn’t talked much about it, and it remained a point of contention between the three of them. Belle was next, coaxing Phillipe on. The draft horse was nervous about encountering the monster again, but trusted Belle to keep him out of danger. Adam rode behind her on Joan, leading Frileux at the back of the procession. His reins were tied to the horn of Joan’s saddle, and with each gentle tug he was pulled forward towards home.
The rain had been falling steadily for hours now. They would have preferred to wait until it stopped, but they’d already been gone longer than they said they’d be. All three riders had the hoods of their cloaks pulled over their heads, but those garments were now soaked to the bone. It was getting cold; if they didn’t find shelter soon and get out of these wet clothes they were risking hypothermia.
“Over there,” Adam suddenly said, pointing to a clearing on their left. Out at the furthest edge of the fields was a small cabin, its windows dark and cold. Beneath the snow surrounding it, they could make out the tilled rows that crops grew from during the summer. A barn stood in the distance, hopefully with horse stalls inside. It was a farm, either belonging to a family safe at the castle or…no one wanted to think about the alternative.
Quickly, the three of them rode/led the horses over to the barn, bringing them inside to warm up. Heading to the cabin, it didn’t take long for Jeanne to break the lock, ripping it off the door with her bare hands. Adam and Belle exchanged a look. Nothing that Jeanne had done before indicated that she had that kind of strength. Was there anything else she had been hiding from them?
They walked inside, shutting the door behind them to keep out the cold air. Thankfully, the latch was still in place so it remained closed. It was a quaint setup: a table, chairs, a couple of beds in the corner, and a fireplace. Adam got to work building a fire while Belle looked around for food. None of them had eaten since that morning, and while she felt bad about stealing from a poor farmer, they didn’t have any other options. All she found was a single loaf of bread, which they decided to split three ways. She made a note to come back to this cabin and bring food in thanks (as well as to repair the lock). Jeanne took all three wet cloaks and hung them up by the fire, hoping they would dry off soon.
After they had eaten, the three of them pulled their chairs from the table and brought them to the fire. The heat blasting from the fireplace felt wonderful to their cold bodies, and they remained huddled there for a while.
Adam spoke up, “I feel that we should talk about what’s all on our minds. You’re really our…our…”
“Yep, your descendant,” Jeanne confirmed. “I told you that I knew about you because I was close to the queen…and I was close to the queen because she was my mother. Let’s just say that I have complicated feelings about being related to you two.”
Adam looked closer at Jeanne, into her eyes that were the same sapphire blue as his own. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. It’s so obvious now!”
“I did had a hunch about who you were,” Belle remarked.
“You did?” Adam asked incredulously.
“Darling, she came from the future and could pass as my twin. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together,” she replied teasingly.
The prince muttered something about how he would have figured it out eventually, and Belle laughed good-naturedly.
“So, yes,” Jeanne continued. “‘Jeanne’ is only a nickname. My full name and title is Princess Guillemette, daughter of King Petr and Queen Anne-Marie, and future ruler of France.” There was a note of pride in her voice.
“Wait, you’re next in line for the throne?” Adam asked curiously.
“Yeah, why?” Jeanne replied.
“Well, um, it’s just that…only kings have ever ruled France by themselves. If there was a queen that ruled alone, it was always because her husband, the king, had passed on,” he explained.
“I think it’s safe to assume that times have changed?” Belle offered as an explanation.
“Your assumption is correct. The law was changed about fifty years ago to let queens rule solo, even if they weren’t married which, yours truly currently isn’t.”
Both Adam and Belle looked surprised at this development, but not unpleasantly so. “Wow, really hammers home that you’re not from around here,” Adam remarked.
“I’ll say,” Belle added. "What a time you must live in!”
“It’s got its benefits, and its drawbacks, but it’s my time. And it’s the France that I’m destined to rule, so I got used to it a while ago.” Jeanne replied.
“You sound quite sure of yourself. Are you…content, ruling a country even if it wasn’t your choice?” Belle inquired.
“I didn’t have a choice either,” Adam pointed out.
“I know that, but given how Jeanne describes her time, I’d assume that royal children had a bit more freedom in the future.”
“Which is somewhat true. My younger brother and sister have - ” she winced, and her eyes teared up. “had a certain level of freedom that I didn’t. But ruling a country, at the end of the day, it’s a job, same as any other. It wasn’t a job that I chose, and personally one I don’t think I’m qualified for, but as the firstborn it’s my job, one that I’m bound to.”
“Why do think you aren’t qualified?” Adam asked. A look of understanding crossed his face, and he asked sympathetically, “Is it because of…” He couldn’t finish his sentence.
“The curse,” Jeanne whispered. “No one wants a Beast as their queen, especially given how the curse manifested in me specifically.”
“Why are you cursed, anyway?” Adam inquired. “When Belle declared her love for me, it should have broken the enchantment and gotten rid of the Beast forever.”
“I don’t know,” Jeanne admitted. “Magic is a strange and fickle thing. My, admittedly limited, understanding of it is that it’s like a virus.” At their questioning looks she explained, “It’s something small that makes you sick. Now a virus, it stays in the body for a long time. For the rest of the person’s life, I think. The virus is usually dormant, not doing anything to the person. But sometimes, when a person is under a lot of stress, it flares up and makes the body sick. I have a theory that the curse is the same way. It went away when you broke it the first time, but it still lingered in our family line. And sometimes, if the right stressors come along, it flares up. Such as it did with me, to gruesome effect.”
“What do you mean?” Belle questioned.
“It’s kind of a long story,” Jeanne replied. “But, since we have the time, I suppose I can tell you. Might be helpful for me, talking to someone other than my shrink about it.”
“Your what?”
“I’ll explain later. Anyway, the first thing I should mention is that I’m not the first of your descendants to be affected by the curse. What I’m about to tell you will be hard to hear, since this is family we’re talking about, but the context is helpful to know.
In the seven generations separating you from me, three of them not including me have been afflicted with the curse of the Beast. Your grandson turned into a Beast after watching the traumatic death of his wife, and never turned human again. He was hunted down and killed like a common animal.
My great-great-grandfather was the inverse; he was born a Beast. His mother died in childbirth, and his father blamed him for her death. He was locked away for most of his life, abused by his father, until he met a woman that helped him escape. He fell in love with her and became human, for the first time in his life. That woman, as you guessed, was my great-great-grandmother.
And then there was my grandfather. He fought in a war, and went back and forth between Beast and human due to the trauma he suffered in combat. He was never quite the same as he was before going off to war, and it put a lot of stress on his daughter, my mother.
So along I come. When I was a little kid, there was never any indication that I had been affected by the curse. I was even-tempered, agreeable, an ‘easy’ child to raise. It didn’t help that up until me, only the men in our family had been cursed. There wasn’t anything that suggested that a woman – or rather, a girl, since I was still a child when it manifested – could be affected. We were a perfectly normal family for a while, until my mother got sick and died. I was eleven, my brother was eight, and my sister was four. That was when the cracks began to form.”
“The…cracks?” Belle whispered, her voice trembling.
“Mentally. It’s…how I refer to the slow, eventual crumbling of my sanity. My patience ran thin quicker than normal. I became less social, withdrawing into myself instead of talking to someone when I was hurting. I was less sincere, more prone to sarcasm. The changes were small at first, everyone just assumed that I was still grieving my mother, but it was more than that. It wasn’t long after her death, you see, that the death threats started.”
“Death threats?” Adam gasped.
“Death threats. You see, my father, much like Belle, had been a commoner before marrying my mother. There was a sizeable faction of our people that didn’t think he was qualified to rule because of his ‘peasant blood’. It didn’t help his case, in their opinion, that he was the son of immigrants. He wasn’t even French in their eyes, despite having French citizenship. There were protests against him, demanding that he step down and let my maternal uncle take the throne. That didn’t happen, so things got worse. By the time six months had passed since my mother’s death, there’d been three different assassination attempts on my father. Three! My siblings and I had already lost our mother, but they didn’t care about the possibility of orphaning us entirely!” Jeanne’s tone had turned harsh at mention of the assassinations, and her voice shook with anger. Taking a deep breath, she continued:
“As you could imagine, this stressed my family out a lot. My father became paranoid, insisting that we didn’t leave the castle at all, and had three or more guards with us just to go about our home! My brother and sister had each other, my father had his work, but I didn’t have…anything, or anyone. Eventually, the grief, the stress, the paranoia, it all came to a head with the incident.”
Neither Belle nor Adam said anything, indicating for Jeanne to continue. She explained:
“It was a big conference. Several world leaders had met up to discuss some important issue, I don’t remember what it was now. My father was the keynote speaker. I was there with my siblings, but they were not involved with the conference itself. My father was at the center of the stage, at the podium, while I was off to his left. My brother and sister were off to the side, out of sight. There were so many guards there, but even then my father wasn’t assured of our safety. Each assassination attempt so far had come closer and closer to being successful. He’d only recently found out that there was a traitor in the palace staff. The potential killers were being fed information on our routines, who had the most contact with us, anything that would assist them in their goals. Not so coincidentally, I had noticed earlier that my father’s personal bodyguard wasn’t there. He never went anywhere without the man, and my father felt especially vulnerable that day.
The day he was gone would end up being the fourth and final time an attempt was made on my family’s lives. My father had just started speaking when I heard the first gunshot. It hit his arm and the past six months’ worth of grief, paranoia, stress and…rage. Actual, palpable, rage. All of it came boiling to the surface and…”
Jeanne shuttered and hugged her arms to herself. Belle couldn’t help but notice how the younger woman’s fingers clawed her skin, curling and twitching like they had a mind of their own. Jeanne self-consciously tucked her fingers under her arms, settling them down, and continued.
“My memory of what happened is spotty, I can only remember snippets of it. Of the worst 8 minutes and 17 seconds of my life. A smell, a sound, a texture, something like that. But there’s one part that remains clear in my mind to this day. A man was on the ground. It was my father’s bodyguard, Hugo. The reason he wasn’t working for my family that day was because he was working his other job – trying to get us killed.”
Adam remained silent at that reveal. He knew better than most how Jeanne felt. To have someone you trusted, someone sworn to serve you, someone you saw as a friend, betray you on such a personal level…it was a feeling that wasn’t easily forgotten. Or forgiven, in his case.
Jeanne kept talking: “It was a great shock to me. I’d seen Hugo as an uncle almost, he watched my siblings grow up! The denial I felt, I think, was what snapped me out of it. He was flat on his back, I was looming over him, my hands flat on the floor on either side of his head. They weren’t my hands, though. They had thick dark brown fur covering them, similar in shade to my hair, but in that moment, they were dark maroon from the blood matting the fur down. Instead of nails, the hands had long black claws, nicked and dripping with blood. The floor beneath us, soaked in blood. Hugo’s face? The stuff was splattered all over it. I’d never seen so much blood until that day, and hopefully I’ll never see that much ever again.
Hugo was looking at me, but I don’t think he saw me. The look of pure terror on his face – he didn’t see me, he saw a monster. And he treated me like one. He had a handgun with him, and without hesitation he aimed it at my face and was about to pull the trigger – I don’t remember anything after that.”
Jeanne slowly raised her hands and looked at them, like she was expecting them to still be soaked with blood. Her breathing was shallow, and she looked like she was going to be sick.
“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” Belle said reassuringly. “You can stop.”
“No no, I’m almost done, it’s just – it’s hard to talk about that part. I don’t remember the next bit, but my brother told me what happened. After about ten or so minutes, I had calmed down considerable. I…was a mess, to put it lightly. Blood all over the floor, four men lying dead and dismembered, everyone else had fled the room when it started. I didn’t know where our father was, but I saw my siblings, hiding behind a silk screen. They were holding each other, clearly terrified, but the way my brother look at me…he didn’t see a Beast, or a violent monster, he saw his sister. He was still worried for our little sister, for good reason, but he was also worried for his big sister, and what would happen to me.
He got his answer pretty quickly. I had reached a hand out, letting it rest on the screen. He reached his own hand out. And then I was shot.”
Belle’s hands flew to her mouth in shock and Adam stared at Jeanne, gaping. How could she say something like that so calmly?
“If there’s such a thing as lucky,” Jeanne went on, “I got lucky with how I was shot. The bullet entered the back of my neck, left of center, right here,” she lifted up her hair and pointed to the spot on her neck she’d mentioned. Sure enough, there was a faint scar there. “It exited below my right ear, just behind the jaw.” She turned her head and showed the other scar, just where she said it was. “It missed a vital artery by millimeters, and only brushed my brainstem.”
“You are describing that far too casually,” Adam muttered.
Jeanne shrugged, “I’m not trying to be casual about it so much as I’m distancing myself from what happened. I try to think about it as happening to someone else, which in some respect is true.
I blacked out after being shot, and when I woke up again I was in the hospital.” She took a moment to explain, “A hospital is a large facility where sick and injured people are treated. More convenient in places with a large population. I was human again when I came to, and had a thick bandage wrapped around my neck and head. Scratches all over my arms, self-defense wounds I later learned they were. The strangest thing though? The doctors weren’t looking at me like I was…well, a Beast. They were acting entirely normal around me. I later learned that the actual events had been covered up; the official story was that a guard’s dog went nuts and mauled those four men. I never stood trial for what happened, I wasn’t stripped of my title, I wasn’t shunned by my subjects. I never faced consequences for what I did,” Jeanne felt herself tearing up again. “I’ll be honest, I feel disgusted that I was never punished.”
Belle hesitated, then spoke, “Jeanne…It’s normal to feel guilty for what happened. I’ll be honest, what you did was horribly brutal. But – isn’t the word ‘disgusted’ a bit harsh?”
“It’s the perfect word,” Jeanne argued. “I didn’t just kill them, I disfigured their bodies to the point where you couldn’t even identify the remains! How could I just forget about that?”
“You weren’t yourself,” Adam pointed out. “And you clearly feel bad about it.”
“That’s isn’t enough!” Jeanne protested. She got out of her chair and stormed over to the window. Outside, the cold rain continued to pelt the glass. She braced her hands on the windowsill, as if she was going to fall if she didn’t. “I may not have been myself, Your Highness, that’s true. But I can’t just blame the curse for my actions. Tell me, in the ten years you spent as a Beast, did you ever kill another person?”
Adam was silent. He was thankful that he never went that far while under the enchantment, but he didn’t tell Jeanne that. Instead he quietly said, “No. But I still regret the things I actually did. And I know better than most what it feels like, knowing that you’re not acting like yourself but unable to stop it.”
“What do you mean?” Jeanne asked, turning away from the window to look at him.
“As the years went on, I slowly lost more of my humanity. I hunted with my bare hands, I forgot how to read; by the last year I was more animal than human mentally. I was being stripped of everything that made me a person, losing myself to those beastly instincts. If Belle hadn’t come along - ” here he gave his wife’s hand an affectionate squeeze, “I would have never become human again. It just took me longer than you to get to that point. I had years to come to terms with it, you only had seconds. That doesn’t make you any worse than I was.”
“You did something bad, very bad, that part’s true,” Belle added. “But that doesn’t make you a bad person. You had a good reason for what you did, didn’t you think about that? You saved your father, and your siblings. They’d be dead if they weren’t for you.”
“They are dead, remember?” Jeanne replied bitterly. “Even if I believed you, that I had a good reason for what I did, it was all for nothing.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
Jeanne looked curiously at her, as did Adam. Belle elaborated, “You’re already changing the past now. Who’s to say you can’t change a past that’s a little more recent for you?”
Jeanne looked thoughtful for a moment. She decided to give Belle’s idea more thought later.
The fire had started burning low a little while ago, and it was almost dark in the cabin again. Turning back to the window, Jeanne noticed that it was still raining heavily. She grimaced and said, “It doesn’t look like the rain’s going to let up anytime soon. If we stayed until it stopped, we could be here for days.”
“We don’t have enough food or firewood to last that long,” Adam noted.
“And we shouldn’t take anything more from the farmer than we already have,” Belle replied.
“Agreed. So…shall we press on?”
“I guess we shall.”
So they left the farm, taking care to smother the fire so the cabin didn’t burn down. Out on the open road, they made slow but steady progress, and the castle was almost in sight by now. They were about a kilometer away when they spotted the tallest tower over the treetops. They were about to continue when Jeanne’s flashlight suddenly dimmed and went out.
“Stupid thing,” Jeanne muttered, banging it on the heel of her hand.
“Is it broken?” Belle asked.
“It shouldn’t be,” Jeanne replied. “Great, now we’re stuck stumbling along in the dark.”
Adam was about to ask his own question when he noticed the rain ahead, that there was something off about it.
“What is it?” Belle asked.
“The rain. On the castle. It’s all wrong, it’s red. Why is it red?” he answered.
Jeanne was about to question what he meant when she caught the stench. Gagging, she reflexively tugged on Faust’s reins and he staggered back.
“Are you okay?” Adam said.
“Don’t smell the rain,” she gasped.
Too late for that. Both Belle and Adam caught a whiff of the rain that fell on the castle, the wind blowing just right. Belle started coughing and Adam’s stomach turned. It wasn’t one smell so much as the perfect combination of multiple horrible stenches: gastric juices, rotting flesh, wool so soiled it had regained its animal odor. The strongest smell, though, was distinctly metallic and fresh.
“It’s blood,” Adam choked out, “It’s raining blood!”
“No guesses on the cause?” Belle replied, trying not to get sick.
“You get three, and the first two don’t count.”
“You gotta be kidding me,” Jeanne muttered. She spoke up, “Whatever you do, don’t look at it!”
“What?” Adam exclaimed.
“Think! It’s a predatory animal. What do most predators do when you make eye contact with them?”
“They charge, I know that! But how do you know it’s looking at us?” he countered. “I’m not sure it even has eyes!”
“Well it has something that lets it know it’s being looked at. For now, just treat the entire body like an eye, err on the side of caution.”
As if to emphasize the danger it posed, they heard the monster roar, its thunderous call echoing across the cloudy heavens.
All three of them looked down towards the path. Through some miracle of nature, all four horses did the same. They were at a fork in the road. It should have been an easy decision to know which one to take, but there were a few small problems that complicated things. If the flashlight hadn’t gone out and thrust them into darkness, they would have noticed these problems. One, neither road pointed directly at the castle; they both branched off in different directions from it. Two, the sign indicating which road was which was gone, ripped out of the ground by the wind from an earlier storm. Lastly, the rain had washed out both roads, spreading dirt everywhere and blurring their boundaries. They couldn’t quite tell where each road ended and began. Needless to say, what should have been an easy task was proving to be harder than imagined.
“Well, which way?” Jeanne asked.
“I think we came down the road on the right,” Adam replied.
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve been riding in these woods longer than you have, I think it’s safe to say that I’m sure!”
“There’s no need to be rude!”
“Can you two please stop bickering! It’s not getting us home any sooner!” Belle chided.
“Okay, okay! We’ll follow you then,” Jeanne conceded. The smell of the blood rain was putting her on edge; the sooner she got out of it, the better.
They took the road to the right. That should have been the worst of it for them, but it seemed that nature had other plans for them. About twenty minutes after turning down that road, the hair on the back of their necks stood on end. All three of them felt a chill run down their spines that wasn’t from the bitter cold. Carefully looking up, Jeanne saw the blood rain move away from the castle and towards them.
“Oh God, please God no,” Jeanne pled, praying that the rain fell elsewhere.
They did not have such luck. The cold, watery rain was pushed aside by the monster’s massive bulk, and warm bloody rain began to fall on them instead. All four horses came to a halt, sniffing the air curiously. Frileux, the most jittery one, started nervously snorting and pulling on his reins. The other three horses didn’t handle it much better; they pawed at the ground and kept snorting, feeling distressed at the blood falling onto their snouts. Belle hunched down, trying to desperately pull the cloak over her head as much as possible. Adam gagged, the coppery tang of blood fresh on his tongue. It was technically his own fault; he was about to say something when the blood started raining. Hopefully, no one would point that out. Jeanne was hyperventilating, hands clawing at the bridle. Taking a deep breath, she began counting backwards from one hundred, “100…99…98…97…”
“What are you doing?” Belle inquired.
Pausing, Jeanne turned to her and said, “Technique my therapist taught me. The sight and smell of blood, especially in large amounts, can cause a nervous breakdown for me. Counting backwards from one hundred take my mind off it, and I can calm down.”
“What’s a therapist?”
“Doctor of the mind, I guess. My father made a lot of mistakes while I was young, but hiring a therapist for me after the incident wasn’t one of them.”
“What do we do now, then? Anyone have any ideas?” Adam asked. He was hunkered down almost flush against Joan’s neck, as if to put as much distance between himself and the sky as possible.
“We can ride in the trees,” Jeanne suggested, her racing heart starting to slow down.
“We’ll lose the road!” Adam argued.
“We won’t go too far, just enough to get some shelter!” Jeanne countered. “Also, need I remind you two, but if the rain is falling here, then that monster’s right above us! It can see us while we’re out here, but not if we hide in the trees.”
Adam thought it over for a moment, before decided, “All right, good point. We won’t go too far though!”
“Fine by me!”
All three of them rode into the trees just to the right of the road, branches dripping blood snapping as the horses broke them. Blood rolled down pine needles and dripped onto the ground below. Jeanne continued counting down from one hundred softly under her breath. The forest floor was uneven, and the combination of water and blood rain was causing the ground to become muddy. The horses handled it as best as they could, lifting their hooves up high to avoid getting stuck in the mire or tripping over any obstacles. The blood didn’t fall as heavily in the trees as it did on the open road, so at least they had some reprieve from that. All four horses shambled along uneasily in the dark, waiting for this latest horror show to end.
Luckily, they didn’t have to put up with it for much longer. After a few more minutes, the blood rain stopped falling. No one dared look up to confirm that it was over. They heard that same series of clicking and popping noises far overheard. Belle shuttered, remembering what happened last time she heard that sound. The monster moved away from them, and the cold watery rain began pelting them once more.
Jeanne looked down at her clothes and shivered in disgust. “Ugh, I look like I stepped out of a slasher flick,” she griped.
“Never thought I’d be grateful to get caught in the rain. Real rain, that is.” Adam muttered.
A light suddenly flashed to life from within Jeanne’s saddlebag. Curious, she opened it and pulled out her flashlight. It was shining again.
“Well, that’s a relief,” Belle noted.
“We should head back to the road if it’s gone,” Adam suggested.
“Um, do either of you remember which way we came from?” Jeanne asked.
They turned back towards the direction they had come from. All three of them saw nothing but dark trees, branches still dripping blood but slowly being washed away by the rain. All around them, the trees looked the same. That wasn’t their only problem. The storm had slowly gotten worse over the past hour, and now flashes of lightning could be seen jumping between the clouds. The sound of thunder crept closer with each strike.
“Oh great, we’re lost!” Jeanne complained.
“Wasn’t going into the forest your idea?” Adam pointed out, sounding frustrated.
“Let’s not start fighting now!” Belle jumped in. “Look, that awful rain’s stopped, and the blood’s washing away. We’ll find the road again soon enough, I think the worst is behind us.”
Adam sighed, but conceded to her point. “Right. It’s gone, so things have already gotten better. Don’t see how it could get much worse than blood rain,” he replied with a nervous laugh.
“Let’s not go tempting fate now,” Jeanne mumbled under her breath.
Jeanne ended up being right, Adam had said a rather poor choice of words. The lighting, creeping steadily closer, was now on top of them. Coincidentally, they were riding past a particularly dry tree that had died in a drought three summers before. It was quite tall, and its bare branches reached for the sky like a set of antennae. It drew the lighting towards it with the same efficiency, too. As the three of them passed the tree, a massive bolt shot down from the sky and struck the tree.
Chaos quickly followed.
____________________________________________________________________________________
They thought it would never end. The rain of objects had long ceased, but warm bloody rain continued to fall on the castle, cascading down the stone walls in unending waterfalls of red. The sticky substance clung to the windows and clumped there, until the clumps grew too heavy and fell away with a silent splat.
What on God’s green earth could orchestrate such a tragedy? What had the capacity for this level of sadism? This ship, if it even was one – what else was it capable of? These questions haunted the minds of everyone in the ballroom. All of them, villagers and servants alike, huddled in the center of the room, not daring to speak to ensure that the menace outside didn’t hear them. Earlier, some of the servants had been sent all over the castle, putting out any candles or other lights so it wouldn’t know there was anyone here. If anyone was on the outside of the castle looking in, they would have thought the place was abandoned.
“How long is this blasted rain supposed to last?” Cogsworth exclaimed, nervously looking out the window.
“Hopefully it isn’t too much longer,” Mrs. Potts replied, trying to remain optimistic. The slight quaking in her voice still betrayed her fear. “It can’t end soon enough!”
“How - how did those people die anyway?” Fife asked. He hadn’t stopped staring at the ceiling, and he had yet to put down the knife.
“We thought you knew!” Cogsworth insisted, “You’re the one who’s spent the most time studying the darn thing!”
“Don’t be so harsh now!” Mrs. Potts chided, “The lad’s doing his best!”
“I thought I knew what it was!” Fife argued, “This is new! I, um, wasn’t prepared for something like this. I’ll be honest, I don’t even know what it looks like!”
“So what do we do now then, mon ami?” Lumière asked, sounding uncharacteristically somber. “We are all sitting ducks here, something ought to be done!”
“I believe the first step is rather obvious, is it not?” Forte replied. “We need a better idea of what sort of entity we’re dealing with. Someone should go outside and get a look at it.”
There were no volunteers. It was still raining heavily and showed no signs of stopping. The possibility of getting soaked with blood aside, there was the risk that the threat above could see them. In their minds, the risk of being seen and attacked wasn’t worth the ‘mere’ reward of seeing what it was. But Forte did have a point. They didn’t even know what it was! If they wanted to stop it, they first had to know what it was.
“I’ll go,” Lumière said, his voice sounding firm. “It’s just a quick look, how much danger could I be in?”
“Quite a bit, I think!” Cogsworth replied. “We’ve all seen what it’s capable of. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Now what’s this? Are you worried about me, dear Cogsworth?” Lumière teased.
“Not like that! Just worried that you’ll do something stupid and get yourself killed!” Cogsworth blustered. “Just be quick about it, if you must!”
“I’ll be back before you know it!” Lumière said reassuringly. He turned and started walking towards the doors on the far side of the ballroom.
“Lumière?” Cogsworth called just as the man was heading out.
“Yes?” Lumière answered, turning back.
“Be careful, old chap.”
Lumière smiled and replied, “Anything for you, mon cher.” And with that, he turned and left the room.
It was a short walk down the castle corridors to the main entrance. Here, the sound of the rain was much louder, blood hitting the massive wooden doors with excessive force. Lumière could also catch the faintest whiff of the blood’s coppery scent. Walking up to the doors, he steeled himself beforehand. Unbolting them, he tugged at the handle and the heavy door cracked open with an ominous creak.
The first thing he noted was that it was far worse outside. The bloody raindrops slapped onto the stone steps leading up to the doors, and was already starting to form scarlet puddles on the promenade. Lumière saw with some dismay that his view up was blocked by the balcony overhead. He realized that, in order to truly see what that thing was, he would have to get out from under the balcony and into the rain. Grimacing, he stepped outside and stopped just at its edge. Leaning forward, he ignored the warm blood bathing his head and looked up, wiping the gruesome fluid out of his eyes to see better.
It was massive, that much he could tell immediately. Against the storm, he saw that it was so large that it shielded the entire castle underneath, with plenty of ground to spare. It had a vaguely round shape, and despite the darkness of night he could tell that it was an off-white color. In its center was a large dark hole that the blood poured freely from. There was a long dark mark leading from the hole to its outer edge, looking like some sort of burn mark. Trailing away from the hole was a long tattered rope of some sort. If he looked closer, he could see that it had once been more colorful, but was now soaked crimson. There were a series of rings tied at regular intervals along the rope. Lumière had only started at the monster for a second or two before a bolt of lightning illuminated its pallid bulk, and a menacing, grumbling roar echoed from within it.
He stepped back into the castle instantly, and in a second the door was bolted shut again. He leaned against it, shaking from both the cold and the horror’s true form. Lumière could only say one thing in response to what he just saw:
“Non.”
He hurried back to the ballroom, not stopping until he had reached his destination. When he got there, Cogsworth immediately asked, “So, what is it? What does it look like?"
“It’s huge, far bigger than the castle! And round, round as the saucer for a tea cup. It was also white, with a large black hole on the bottom. The blood was coming out of that.”
“Speaking of which, I do think it’s moving away,” Mrs. Potts pointed out.
They turned towards the windows, while a few brave souls in the crowd crept closer. Sure enough, the blood was no longer falling on the castle. Rain made of water began falling from the sky once more, and the monster started hovering over part of the forest beyond. Blood continued to fall from it, spraying the treetops and soaking the ground. Overhead, the strange being was still roaring, but now it sounded raspy, almost like someone trying to clear their throat.
“Why did it rain all that blood on us, anyway?” Fife asked.
“Perhaps we did something to offend it?” Lumière suggested.
Suddenly, there was a cacophony as one of the stained glass windows shattered and something flew into the ballroom. The crowd fell away with several shouts as the item crashed to the floor with a cracking thump. It slid across the ballroom floor, leaving a sticky trail of blood in its wake before coming to rest in front of the five servants.
Forte looked down at the item in confusion. It was a statue of a buck, the one that had been taken from the gardens by Jeanne several days earlier. But now, it no longer looked like the regal piece of garden décor it had once been. One of the tines on its right antler had broken off, and some sort of substance had been painted on its eyes and mouth. He could tell that it had originally been green, but was now dark and almost black. A rope had been tied around the buck’s midsection. It was hard to tell what the original material had been, but Forte swore that they looked like it had been made out of bedsheets. They had been shredded into strips and tied together to create the rope, and a series of strange rings were tied at regular intervals along said rope. Looking back at the blood trail, he also saw that because of the angle it crashed at, one of the antlers had scratched the ballroom floor, leaving a garish gash in the marble. The last thing Forte noted was that the statue, the rope, and the rings were all soaked in blood, and if he looked closer he could see tiny bits of flesh clinging to the carved stone. He grimaced and looked away; the sight was too ghastly even for him.
From outside, all of them could hear a series of noises, somewhere between popping and clicking. Everyone tenses up, thinking that meant it was going to attack again. Fortunately, that was the last strange sound anyone heard. After several minutes of no frightening noises, more blood rain, or anything else they would deem disturbing, the people relaxed and assumed that it had left.
“Well that was positively awful,” Cogsworth commented. “Thank God that it’s over.”
“Not really,” Fife added, “The master, Belle, and Jeanne are still missing!”
“Sacre bleu, the boy’s right!” Lumière exclaimed. “We’ve been so busy here that I forgot about that!”
“So have I!” Cogsworth cried, “Where the devil could they be?! That monster aside, the weather has only gotten worse! All sorts of things could have happened to them - ”
“Now let’s not worry ourselves here, I’m sure they’re fine!” Mrs. Potts said soothingly. “All three of them are quite smart, they must have taken shelter during the storm. They’ll be back before we know it.”
Suddenly, there was a thunderous boom from outside and a flash of light. They all heard the sound of people screaming and multiple horses whinnying in fright. Running to the window, they saw that one of the taller trees in the forest had been set ablaze, most likely by a bolt of lightning. They could hear the screaming with more clarity now, and it didn’t take long for any of them to recognize it.
“It’s them!” Cogsworth yelled. “The master! Belle! And that girl!”
“What are they doing out there?” Mrs. Potts added, “They’re going to hurt themselves!”
“Someone ought to do something!” Lumière insisted.
Out of the corner of his eye, Fife noticed that Forte had slipped away and was heading to the other end of the ballroom. Being careful not to be seen, he left the others to debate about what should be done, and he followed the other composer down the corridor. He caught up to Forte in the royal stables, where he was placing a saddle on a horse’s back.
“Maestro, what are you doing?” Fife asked.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Forte snapped, “I’m going to find the master and Belle and bring them back to the castle.” He wanted to add that Fife didn’t have to call him Maestro anymore since they were both the court composer, but refrained from it because 1) he didn’t have time to discuss it, and 2) he enjoyed the ego boost that came with being addressed by the title.
“And Belle?” Fife exclaimed curiously. “I thought you didn’t like her.”
“She’s married to our prince, which makes her his equal. We don’t really have a choice on whether or not to listen to her. Not to mention that the master would be rather upset if I left her to die, and I’d rather not be on his bad side.” He added under his breath, “Even though I seem to always be on his bad side these days.”
“She’s not that bad, Maestro! Didn’t Belle convince the master to let you stay here, instead of being forced to leave?”
Forte paused as he was fitting the bridle over the horse’s head. He admitted begrudgingly, “Yes, she is the reason I was allowed to stay. I am grateful for that, believe me.” He continued, but less begrudgingly, “Maybe Belle isn’t as bad as I first thought. Now leave, I must be going.”
“I’m coming with you!” Fife insisted.
“Don’t be daft, you’ll only get lost in the woods!” Forte argued.
“I wasn’t asking for your permission!” Fife replied, leading over another horse and struggling to throw a saddle onto its back.
Forte looked questioningly at his colleague and remarked, “It’s about the girl, Jeanne, isn’t it?”
Fife turned beet red for a second and replied “Y - Yes, yes it is! She’s lost too, so I’m going to help get her…un-lost!”
Forte sighed and helped him throw the saddle over the other horse’s back. “Fine. But don’t get yourself hurt, I won’t be able to help you!”
A few minutes later, the horses were saddled, bridled, and ready to go. Both composers led the horses to the stable doors, opened them, and mounted onto their backs. Forte looked out at the castle grounds, blood and semi melted snow soaking the earth, across the gorge and out at the forest, with yet more blood dripping from the branches. And now part of it was on fire. At least it was raining. He sighed and muttered to himself, “I knew I should have left the castle when I had the chance.”
____________________________________________________________________________________
It was dark. Far darker than it should have been. Belle was trying to stay calm, but it was very hard to do so considering that she had lost her sight. She had been closest to the tree when the lightning struck, and unfortunately had been looking in the tree’s direction. The bright light of the bolt had overwhelmed her eyes, and the next thing she knew she couldn’t see. Belle had had to rely on her other senses to figure out what happened next: Phillipe’s startled shriek, Adam shouting her name, Jeanne screaming, Phillipe’s hooves slapping the partially melted snow underneath as he took off somewhere deeper into the forest. She still felt the ice cold rain hammering her cloak, now soaked again and causing a chill to settle into her bones. Belle had been smart enough to press herself against Phillipe’s back when he took off, too wary of being knocked off by a low-hanging branch. She’d been able to yank on his reins after several minutes of running, and he’d eventually come to a stop.
It was impossible to tell where she was. The sound of the rain pelting the trees drowned out everything else, save for Adam and Jeanne’s panicked screams in the distance. She couldn’t tell which direction they were coming from; it was almost like they came from every direction possible. Belle shivered and tugged her wet cloak tighter over her shoulders, trying in vain to reclaim some warmth. It had been about twenty minutes since the lightning incident, and she tried not to think about that her sight had yet to return.
What if it never did?
She was soon distracted by the sound of hoof steps heading her way. Turning her head in the direction she thought she heard them in, Belle listened and tried to guess who it was. Adam? Jeanne? She didn’t know what had happened to them, and was thankful that at least one of them was all right.
“Belle.”
She was confused. What was he doing out here? “Maestro Forte?”
She heard his horse step closer until he was right in front of her. “Are you all right?”
“I can’t see,” Belle whimpered.
“How bad is it?”
“Bad. It’s all dark, I can’t make out anything. I was next to a tree that was struck by lightning. The flash, I was looking right at it when it happened.”
“I’m sure your vision will return soon. Let’s return to the castle, it’s cold and we could both become ill.”
“Adam and Jeanne are still out here! We need to find them first!”
“Fife is out here as well, he’ll worry about finding them.”
“Fife? He’s here too?”
“Believe me, I’m just as surprised as you are.” She felt the reins slip out of her hands, “I’ll be leading you back, don’t worry.” Belle gripped Phillipe’s mane as he walked forward, tugged along with his reins tied to the horn of Forte’s saddle.
“Maestro?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you,”
Neither of them said anything after that. Forte silently led them back to the castle, the sound of rain drowning out even their thoughts.
____________________________________________________________________________________
Jeanne sat up with a groan, rubbing her head and trying to clear the stars out of her eyes. She was using her left hand to do this, so she attempted to sit up using her right arm. To her alarm, she realized that she couldn’t move it. Jeanne looked down and saw that her right shoulder had been dislocated when she was knocked out of the saddle. She lied back down and with a grunt, rolled onto her left side. With her left hand, she pushed herself off the forest floor and sat up.
Looking around, she saw that she was in a clearing of some sort. The trees were thick here, and many of the branches were tangled with each other. Hearing the sound of panicked thrashing, she looked ahead and saw Faust was caught in some of them. His reins were wound around a particularly thick branch, and he was yanking his head away while pawing at the snowy slush. Some of the branches snapped as his legs kicked erratically. Over the treetops just to her left, Jeanne saw the lightning-struck tree had caught on fire, and a few more trees were starting to burn as well. Thankfully, it looked like the rain would put out the flames soon, hopefully before half the forest caught on fire.
She didn’t know where she was. This clearing was unfamiliar to her; all the trees looked the same as they had before. Jeanne started shivering, and she curled up and tried to retain some warmth. Crawling to a nearby tree, she huddled under its branches and tried to shelter in place.
“Jeanne?”
She sat up, hearing someone’s voice. It wasn’t Adam’s or Belle’s. To her surprise, it almost sounded like –
The branches on the other side of the clearing parted, and Fife appeared on a horse. His clothes, including his cloak, were soaked, and he looked just as cold as she felt. He looked around, and quickly spotted her. “Jeanne!”
“Fife? Is that you?”
He got off his horse and ran over to her. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking at her right arm hanging limply at her side. “What happened to your arm?”
“My shoulder, it’s dislocated. Help me up,” she replied. He grabbed her outstretched left hand and pulled her to her feet. Jeanne stumbled for a second before catching herself.
“Don’t worry, we can get a physician to look at it when - ”
“It’s okay, no doctor needed. I got it, it’s an easy fix.” She gripped her right shoulder with her left hand and tried pushing against the joint. She couldn’t get enough momentum to fix it however, and turned to Fife looking sheepish. “On second thought, I might need a little help.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Grab my right wrist, and pull on my arm for five or so minutes. I’ll be able to reset the joint then. You might need to brace one of your hands on my ribs.”
It was Fife’s turn to look sheepish. “Are – are you sure it’s okay for me to…touch you there?”
“It’s okay, you’re helping me. Please hurry, my shoulder hurts real bad!”
“Okay okay!”
He awkwardly placed his left hand on Jeanne’s side, pressing hard into her ribs. With his right hand he pulled on her left arm. After five minutes he felt the arm’s muscles relax, and Jeanne rolled her shoulder. There was a pop as it snapped into place, and she kept rolling her shoulder back and forth. Satisfied with the range of motion, she turned back to him.
“My arm, it works! My hero,” she said teasingly.
Fife blushed and replied, “I - It’s nothing, really. Just happy to see that it’s fixed.”
“Are the others okay? I’m not sure what happened to Adam and Belle, it all happened so fast.”
“I don’t know, Forte went to go find Belle and I haven’t heard anything from the master.”
“Forte’s out here?” Jeanne asked, astonished.
“Yeah, surprised me too,” Fife answered with a shy laugh.
“Well, then I guess we should go find the prince,” Jeanne determined, stepping over to Faust. Calming him down, she untangled his reins and led him out of the trees. Hopping into the saddle, she held her head for a second, feeling dizzy.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Fife asked worriedly.
“Yeah, just a little bump on my head, but I’ll manage.” Jeanne replied.
He got back on his horse and they rode out of the clearing. To their mutual relief, a few minutes later they heard the prince’s voice, calling out for both Belle and Jeanne alternatingly. Jeanne smiled, knowing that this horrible night would soon be over. Cupping her hands to her mouth, she yelled in his direction, “Adam?”
____________________________________________________________________________________
It didn’t take long to return to the castle after everyone was located. No one commented on the debris decorating the castle’s exterior, or its new coat of ‘paint’. After the horses were returned to the stable, the five humans headed inside. Adam led Belle inside; her vision was slowly starting to return but she was still unable to navigate by herself. Neither Forte nor Adam said anything to each other, but the prince did offer a curt nod of thanks to the composer. It might have been premature to suggest that they had ‘buried the hatchet’, so to speak, but not outside the realm of possibility.
To Adam, Belle, and Jeanne’s confusion, Forte and Fife led them towards the steps leading down to the wine cellars.
“Why are we going down there?” Adam asked.
“And where is everyone?” Belle added.
“It was decided after that ‘ship’ of yours left that the castle itself was no longer safe. Everyone has gone down to the cellars, deep underground, to hide.” Forte explained.
“It’s not a ship,” Jeanne corrected insistently.
“What?” Fife exclaimed.
“It’s not a ship. It’s an animal. That thing is alive. And it’s here because it thinks this is its home.”
Both composers turned to stare at the young woman, each of them looking quite disturbed at the implications. Forte started saying, “So it didn’t simply ‘take’ those people, it actually - ”
“Yep.”
“And the screaming we heard, it’s because they were…” Fife nervously added.
“Yep.”
“And there were no bodies because…”
“This is going to sound ghastly, but to put it simply: there were no bodies because there were no leftovers.”
To Adam’s shock, Forte looked horrified at Jeanne’s explanation. In all his years he’d known the self-assured, collected composer, he’d never seen him express such genuine emotion. Fife looked like he was going to be sick. Belle and Adam merely grimaced; they hated the fact that they had processed the revelation already. It wasn’t the type of knowledge that should be readily accepted.
“I think we should just keep walking,” Adam said, interrupting the silence.
“Agreed,” Forte added.
Continuing down the castle corridor, Adam noted, “It’s so dark. It’s almost like the castle is under the enchantment again.”
“I don’t like it,” Belle chimed in. “It’s too quiet. I never wanted the castle to be like this ever again.”
“Hopefully, we can fix this whole mess and it never will be this way again,” Jeanne said, trying to remain optimistic.
Heading down to the wine cellars, they saw that they were packed with people. Servants, surviving villagers, every single person under the castle’s roof was hiding down here. Some people had set up personal sleeping areas, using blankets to corner off a space for themselves and their families. Food had been brought down here, to minimize the number of trips topside. The heat of the boiler prevented it from being too cold, but between that and all these people, they faced the opposite problem: it was too warm. To stave off the darkness, the people had grabbed as many candles as they could before coming down here. None of this, none of it, could be considered living: sleeping on the ground, staying in the dark all the time, rationing food. But it was surviving, which was all they could ask for then.
Adam, Belle, and Jeanne washed the remaining blood off of themselves (after receiving more than a few alarmed stares) and tried to think about what their next steps would be. By now Belle’s sight had returned fully, and the first thing she did was check that Maurice was all right. The old inventor was very relieved to see that his daughter was unharmed, but worried when she described what happened earlier. Belle was careful to omit any mention of Jeanne’s true identity, or her secret.
After wracking their brains for an hour, all of them decided to retire to bed. It was well past two in the morning, and they would function better after a good night’s rest. In the morning, Adam, Belle, and Jeanne reconvened to discuss everything they had learned so far about the monster. They found a quiet area of the cellars to talk, making sure no one could overhear them.
“I think we can all agree that it should be called ‘the Magonian’, singular. Only makes sense, seeing as how there’s only one of them.” Jeanne declared.
“Bit of a trivial thing to worry about, but sure, let’s call it that.” Adam agreed.
“But why is it here, of all places? And I don’t mean here, as in the present. I’m talking about in Jeanne’s time. What does it want with France?” Belle asked.
“Well, from a predator’s perspective, this place has everything. Plenty of food, places to hide, access to other resources. Makes sense that it would choose here as its territory.” Jeanne theorized.
“While that is true, I can’t help but think about those reports you showed up, Jeanne. It showed that the Magonian has been traveling across the country in a specific route. It wasn’t visiting the same place twice, and seemed like it was looking for something almost. What do you suppose that could mean?”
Jeanne was silent, trying to think of an explanation. To her surprise, it was Adam who came up with it: “I may have an idea,” he said. “Before my father died, he taught me some of the basics of hunting. When he was teaching me how to hunt wolves, he mentioned that when a young wolf is almost an adult, they’re kicked out of their pack and sent to establish their own territory, create a new pack. Maybe that’s what the Magonian’s been doing.”
“Adam, are you saying that there may be more of those things out there?” Belle asked nervously.
“You mean we might be stuck down here forever, hiding from a whole pack of those things?! ‘Cause I do not want to live in an 18th century wine cellar for the rest of my life!” Jeanne ranted.
“It’s just a theory!” Adam defended.
“Right. Sorry. It’s just, it’s too plausible. I don’t wanna think too much about it.”
“Fair enough. There’s something else that doesn’t make sense though.”
“What is that?”
“Why didn’t it destroy the castle again? It was capable of doing it easily in your time, so why did it leave us alone?”
“There might be an explanation for that,” Jeanne said. "Remember when we were in the village and it attacked us?”
“How could we forget?” Belle jumped in.
“Did you see that long dark mark on its underside?”
“No, I was too busy running for my life,” Adam deadpanned.
“Very funny, Your Highness. Anyway, I saw it, and I remembered that lightning burn I got on my arm. It’s almost healed up, by the way, which is great. So I got hit, and I checked Faust for a similar burn and found one on his back. What I think happened is, when that lightning strike hit all three of us, it got me in the arm, Faust in the back, and shot down the Magonian’s throat. The bolt came in at a tight angle, hence why there’s a burn on the outside. It would explain this castle not being destroyed, and why the entire village didn’t just disappear overnight. It hurt too much for it to swallow, so it couldn’t eat the meals it was accustomed to.”
“That would also explain why no one noticed it before,” Belle added. "It would be too weak to do much hunting and could only go after easy prey.”
“Like those wolves I saw it eat when I first got here. It’s winter, they’d be having a lean season too and couldn’t run away fast enough.”
“Is it odd that I feel a little sorry for them?”
Adam looked at Belle incredulously. “They almost killed you, Belle! Why do you feel sorry for them?”
“Because their deaths were horrible! They’re just animals, they weren’t actually evil. They were just trying to survive.”
“You gotta respect the irony in it, though,” Jeanne chimed in. “The predator becoming the prey.”
“I think we’ve gotten off topic,” Adam said.
“I’d say we have,” Belle added.
“So, we know what it is, we know how it hunts, we know why it’s here. What do we do now?”
“I think there’s only one thing we can do. We have to kill it.” Jeanne replied grimly.
“But how? It’s bigger, it’s stronger, it has the advantage in every way!” Adam countered.
“We have to try! Look around!” She gestured to the hundreds of people hiding with them. “This isn’t any way for a person to live. They’re alive, sure, but they’re only surviving! No one was meant to spent their entire life underground, living in fear of what’s on the surface. Not only that, but everyone here has lost someone to that monster! We owe it to them to do something!” She took a deep breath, “I owe it to my family to do something. My father was killed by that thing. My brother. My sister. And no, this isn’t some twisted attempt at revenge that will get us all killed. It’s about…finding peace, knowing that while I may have lost my family, no one else will have to lose their families to it.”
Adam and Belle turned over Jeanne’s words in their heads. Her determination to make sure no one else suffered what she did was admirable, a noble goal for sure. And yet…“I agree with you, Jeanne, but – you’re wrong about one thing,” Belle replied. She reached over to the younger woman and softly hugged her. “You haven’t lost all your family. You’re my family too, and…while knowing what you’re planning to do scares me, I’m going to help.”
“So will I,” Adam added. “No one is allowed to hurt my family and get away with it.”
Jeanne felt herself tearing up, touched by their devotion to their kin, no matter how distant. “Thank you,” she whispered, her heart feeling full for the first time in a long while. “Because I’m going to need help with what I have planned. As a matter of fact, we’re going to need a lot of help…”
____________________________________________________________________________________
December 13th, 1742
It was eerie, seeing the village so empty. Lumière looked around uneasily at the wrecked buildings and debris littering the streets. Hopefully he could finish up here quickly to get back to the castle in one piece.
He was out here with about nine or so other men, going through the homes of the deceased to look for supplies. It felt wrong to him, so wrong to steal from these people. They weren’t around anymore to complain about it, granted, but that didn’t matter to him. He was a gentlemen first and foremost, and he prided himself on being a giver, not a taker.
He wasn’t even sure which homes belonged to people that had been killed. It was probably a safe bet that the homes that were locked up had occupants that were still living. The windows would be boarded up, the doors bolted shut, any personal effects removed and out of the house. This last rule wouldn’t exactly apply if the home was partially destroyed, but rules one and two could be trusted to still be in effect.
Lumière went up to one cottage that was halfway between whole and leveled. The door was flung open; it hadn’t been bolted shut when the creature attack and nothing had stopped it from flying open. Cautiously, as if worried about disturbing the former occupant’s ghosts, he crept up the barely intact stairs, stepped inside, and looked around.
Half the roof was caved in, and the fallen debris had smashed a huge hole in the floor. Taking great care to step around the hole, Lumière began going through their belongings, seeing if he could find something useful. He turned up some cookware, a few coins, and some miscellaneous items, all made of copper. He stuffed these into the sack he carried, and looked around for more. Finding a few glass flasks, he took those as well. Finally, he went into the back rooms and took some towels and the threadbare sheets off the beds. All of what he found was meager; being poor this family couldn’t afford the best thing, and Lumière felt guilt gnawing at his insides for what he was doing. But he didn’t have much of a choice.
“Désolé, les morts,” he murmured, offering up what little penance he could, “but you cannot imagine how desperate we are to stay alive.”
He was uncharacteristically silent the entire trip back to the castle. Lumière’s worry was only growing stronger. Even if he survived, could he lived with what he’d done to do so?
December 18th, 1742
Mrs. Potts pulled the needle through the four layers of fabric, taking care to ensure she didn’t stab one of her fingers on accident. She’d been at this for hours now, but knew she had to keep going for a few hours more. Looping the thread back under the sheets she was sewing together, she pierced the fabric and pulled the thread taunt. It had to be as tight as humanly possible, if it was to work.
If this project was even necessary, anyway.
This was only a backup plan, if anything. Her and the many other women tasked with the sewing had already finished the primary tools they’d need. However, the master had been quite insistent on having this done, “just in case”. Despite insisting on it, he’d been quite polite on asking for this extra project. He’d really had changed for the better, thanks to Belle. Which made the fact that they were all stuck working on this ‘plan’ hurt all the more.
Mrs. Potts looped the thread under the sheets again. It wasn’t right, any of it! It was December, late December to boot, they shouldn’t have had to be worrying about some monster hunting them all down for food. They should have been preparing for Christmas; it was supposed to be a happy time of year! This was the first Christmas they’d had since the enchantment was broken; instead of celebrating, they were all living in fear of their lives! Although, Mrs. Potts didn’t complain, she considered herself one of the lucky ones. Even after all this was over, there would be many families too busy mourning their losses to enjoy the holiday.
The poor dears, she thought, they should have been celebrating with their loved ones, not grieving their loss! She felt herself tear up, remembering that children had been among the monster’s victims. Children! For her, it was all too easy to imagine her Chip as one of them…
She didn’t let her mind go there. She couldn’t. She had to stay strong, had to see this through.
Ironically, remembering that Christmas was right around the corner had only strengthened her resolve. If this succeeded, they would all need something to look forward to again. Even those that had lost their friends and family to the monster; they in particular would need a strong reminder that they were not alone. One of the strangest outcomes of this was how the castle inhabitants and the villagers had slowly learned to bury the hatchet. A common enemy could unite even the most bitter of foes, she supposed. All of them would need to lean on each other more than ever. They were a community, every last one of them, and the upcoming holiday would be a strong reminder of that.
And she would help make sure it came to pass. Making her last stitch, Mrs. Potts tied and cut it off.
____________________________________________________________________________________
December 21st, 1742, Day
Jeanne cautiously peered out the tower window, her brunette hair blowing in the cold December breeze. The temperature had dropped drastically in the past week, and all the rain and blood from that terrible night had frozen over. Already, she could begin to see the first signs of a storm brewing on the horizon, and fog was starting to swirl around the trees on the edge of the forest. She prayed that it would clear up by tonight. Despite knowing that looking at the Magonian would kill her, being able to see otherwise would be important.
The cold air was starting to sting her face and make her eyes run. She wiped them on the edge of her sleeve. Jeanne looked out over the quiet valley, the sound of silence ringing in her ears. No sounds of the village in the distance, no servants bustling about in the castle below, not even any birds sung in the forest. She hated it. More than anything, she was most looking forward to hearing the birds again. That, and being able to repair the time bracelet and go home. Even though she had mostly been preoccupied with defeating the monster, she’d also still been working on fixing her mother’s device. If fixing it meant getting a second chance to save her family…
“I don’t think you should be up here,” a voice said behind her.
Turning around, Jeanne saw Fife coming up the stairs and joining her at the window. “I know, but…I just needed to get away from everything before, well - ”
“I get it,” Fife replied. He looked out over the desolate valley, leaning his arms on the windowsill, and shivered. It was a gesture that would be imperceivable to most, but then again Jeanne was not most. “Do you think it’ll really work?”
“It’s our best shot,” Jeanne admitted. “It’s not the best or safest plan, but it’s better than nothing.” She turned to look at the young composer. “Are you okay, Fife?” she asked.
He was quiet, sighed, and admitted, “No. No I’m not. I’m scared! You and I both know what that thing can do! I might actually die later today, and - ” he hesitated before adding, “and I don’t wanna die.”
“Neither do I,” Jeanne confessed. “To tell you the truth, I’m scared too, Fife. I don’t wanna die either. I don’t think anyone does, for the most part.”
Fife looked at her incredulously, like she had grown two heads, and exclaimed, “You’re scared? But you’re so brave! You’re the one that drew it out of hiding, you’re the one that warned the village knowing it was out there, you’re the one that came up with this plan! I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t think you could get scared. I know it sounds silly, but…that’s what I thought.”
Jeanne fell silent at his assertion, then quietly said, “Fife, you know the tale of St. Romain and the Gargouille, right?”
He nodded, and she continued, “The Gargouille was a dragon that drowned and ate a lot of people, and yet St. Romain knew that if he didn’t do something, it would keep killing people. He succeeded at subduing and killing it, so his story has a happy ending, but…what if St. Romain was scared of the Gargouille?”
He looked at her surprised, and replied, “I – I hadn’t thought of that. I mean, I’d be pretty scared if I had to fight the Gargouille…where are you going with this?”
“I was just thinking…St. Romain was human, so he must have been scared of the Gargouille. If he could succeed at killing it, despite being scared and knowing there was a chance he could die…doesn’t that mean we have a chance at killing our own monster?”
Fife looked thoughtful at that, before responding with, “Hey, you’re right! If he was scared and still won, then maybe we’ll win even though we’re scared too!”
Jeanne smiled, before noticing the sun starting to set. “We better get going. It’s almost time.”
“Right, sure,” Fife said. They both started walking down the stairs of the tower, before Jeanne turned back to him.
“Fife? Be careful tonight, okay? Can you do that for me?”
“Sure! You do the same, okay…please be careful?” To her surprise, he punctuated his question by tightly hugging her, much to their mutual surprise. However, neither of them thought it was an unpleasant surprise.
“I will,” she said, hugging him back and grinning to herself.
They stayed like that for a long time, before finally letting go.
Chapter 5: Belle
Notes:
Here we are, the home stretch! Only two chapters left, so let's go!
Chapter Text
December 21st, 1742, Night
As the soft twilight gave way to the harsh night, a cold breeze began to blow, bringing the fog with it. It crept through the valley, winding slowly through the dark trees until a cloudy sea had covered the forest and palace grounds. Only the castle’s tallest tower stood above the fog, like a lighthouse keeping watch over a stormy ocean. It wasn’t entirely dark however; the light of the full moon illuminated the area, crowding out the stars and casting a dull white glow. The pale moonlight was scattered by the fog, and may have caused a problem for the riders down in the valley had it not been for the lights set up.
Twelve lights, each powered by its own small windmill, were set up in a series of three rings around the castle. The four outermost were set up two kilometers from the castle, the next four were one kilometer away, and the innermost four were a mere half kilometer. Eight of them had been set up in the gorge that was behind the castle, but with their luminance they could still be seen from a long way off. Wires spung from copper objects that had been melted down wound around the windmills and went inside a series of glass bulbs. The bulbs were not uniform in any way; some lights were a single large vessel, others a makeshift collection of many small vessels.
The devices were a joint project between Jeanne and Maurice. Jeanne wasn’t an electrician by any means and Maurice was still trying to understand the concept of electricity, but with some MacGyver-ing they had come up with something. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was their best way of knowing if the Magonian was around. If it approached from a certain direction, the ‘light station’ nearest it would go out. Not only could they tell if it was nearby, but if multiple stations went out in a certain order, they could tell which direction it was going in. It was especially helpful given the change in weather.
For now though, all twelve stations were lit and it was quiet. Jeanne, hiding in the trees on the edge of the forest, looked out across the fields and gorge towards the dark castle. She knew that a small handful of volunteers, including Belle, were hiding in the three tallest towers, acting as lookouts for any sign of the monster. Each one was equipped with a lantern that had a cover on it. By uncovering and covering the light, they could communicate with everyone else if they saw the Magonian before the bulbs detected it. In addition, the lanterns had been rebuilt using the shards of glass from the shattered stained-glass window. Each lantern had been modified to glow a different, distinct color. Hers was a deep red color; just bright enough to be seen from a long ways off. She grasped it in her left hand, the corresponding wrist clad with her mother’s bracelet.
The device was almost repaired. She wasn’t going to risk it being stolen if it was left in the castle, hence why it was out here with her. Taking it with her was a risk in and of itself, but a risk that carried just a little more peace of mind. The bracelet was almost done, the only thing that stumped her was how to give it more power. It had taken a bolt of lightning to send her so far back this time. It made sense that only something of equal power would send her far enough forward, and send her home. The question was, where would she get that much power?
Jeanne turned her head to the left, looking down the row of trees that were silhouetted in the fog like a dark reef. Faust shifted beneath her, snorting and shuffling on his hooves uneasily. With a soothing whisper, she did her best to calm him. It must’ve been the blindfold tied across his eyes. Of course, she knew better than to look, but she wasn’t taking any chances with her horse. None of them were taking chances with any of the horses. Jeanne knew that both Adam and Fife were out here somewhere, also on horseback and (somewhat) ready for what lie ahead. The three of them were merely three of several volunteers on horses, comprised of both villagers and castle servants. If things went according to plan, only one of them would be riding into danger and no one would die tonight. It was a very risky plan, but if it worked they would be rid of the Magonian for good.
The silence of the night was broken by the sound of organ music floating across the air. Jeanne tensed up, realizing the plan had finally been set in motion. She had to admit, even from this distance she could tell that Forte was quite the savant when it came to the organ. She still felt more than a little envy for his part in all this, though. In her opinion, he had the easiest job. All Forte had to do was play the organ and hope it drew the Magonian out of hiding, somehow. The elder court composer didn’t have to keep watch; he wasn’t on horseback like she was; his role held the least risk. Then again, his role also held the strongest amount of uncertainty. For all they know, his music could draw the monster near, provoke it to attacking, or do nothing at all. In a way, the success of this whole endeavor hinged on that music.
To pass the time until something happened, she turned to talk to the gentleman on the horse next to her. He was a portly fellow, had been mostly quiet up to this point, but she figured it wouldn’t hurt to try and strike up a conversation. “So, nice night for a ride, huh?” Jeanne asked casually.
“Are ya kidding? I’m freezing my butt off out here! The sooner we get back inside, the better, I say!” the man blurted out.
Jeanne was taken aback by the initial rudeness, but chalked it up to nerves. “Yeah, I guess you have a point,” she conceded courteously. “It is pretty cold tonight, isn’t it?”
“That’s what I just said! Sure can’t wait to get back inside that nice warm, big castle. Can you believe that most of its unguarded right now?! All those riches, just lying there for the taking!”
“…That’s an odd observation to make, I’m pretty sure being robbed is the last of His Highness’s concerns right now.”
“I know, right? Imagine all the gold and gems and stuff that you could take right now! They’d be none the wiser!” he laughed. “And why are you calling that guy ‘His Highness’?”
Jeanne’s eyes widened, but with their lanterns covered the mystery man didn’t see it. “Because Prince Adam is our ruler! And let me get this straight, you want to steal from him?”
“Well duh! Took you long enough to figure it out!” She saw his head turn towards her in the darkness, trying to make her out. “Who are you, anyway? Never seen you in the village before.”
“No one important,” Jeanne replied quickly. “But why do you want to rob the castle?”
“Because he killed my best friend! It’s his fault Gaston’s dead!”
“Wait, who’s Gaston?”
“Who’s Gaston?!” the man exclaimed, sounding almost offended. “He was only the best guy around! The best of the best, the town hero! He was the greatest! And the Beast killed him!”
She would have to ask Adam about this Gaston fellow later, clearly something wasn’t adding up. Thinking the man was simply confused, Jeanne explained, “The Beast doesn’t exist anymore, he was Prince Adam the whole time! I think there’s something you’re missing,”
“Prince shmince! He’s still the guy that killed my best friend, he’s gonna get everything that’s coming to him!”
Before Jeanne could protest, she saw something flicker out the corner of her eye. Peering out into the fog, she looked out towards the light stations, their light wavering in the dense low-lying clouds like ghosts. She narrowed her eyes at the light station farthest to the east, just on the other side of a stand of trees. Despite the obstacle, the station had glowed consistently bright ever since it was set up. Now, she watched as it slowly dimmed and went out.
“Hold on,” she said, lifting her lantern so she could start signaling. Before she could, the light brightened up just as quickly as it had darkened. Pausing, she briefly considered that the wiring could be faulty. After all, it was a somewhat amateur attempt at electric lighting. Then another possibility crossed her mind. “It must be poking around,” she muttered to herself.
“What was that?” the man asked.
“It’s testing us. It wants to know if it’s safe to come out,” she explained.
“What is?”
“The monster, that’s what! What did you think we were out here for?” Does he seriously not know what’s going on?! She thought.
The man laughed at her and retorted, “Monster? There’s no monster out here, you really buy that?”
Jeanne was still watching the light station while she was arguing, trying to see if it would go out again. At that moment, it did, as well as the light station nearest it. “I’m telling you, there’s a monster out here and it’s been killing people for weeks now! Seriously, you think a Beast killed your friend, and this is where you draw the line?” She used her lantern to signal that two stations were out, and which ones, then asking for someone to go check it out. “And what did you mean the prince is gonna ‘get what’s coming to him’? If you wanted to rob the castle, you should have stayed inside and done it now, while everyone else was distracted.”
“Oh, I didn’t say robbing the castle is the only thing I’m gonna do.”
Jeanne turned to him, using her lantern to finally get a look at the man’s face. In the red light, she could make out a pig-like nose, a gap-toothed sadistic grin…and a crazed look in his eyes. Jeanne felt her heart start to race, but she kept calm and asked, “W-what else are you going to do?”
Before he could answer, both of them saw another lantern signaling back, indicating that someone was going to go ‘check it out’. The lantern signaling back was blue.
Blue was Adam’s color.
The man’s cruel grin widened at the sight and he reached for his hip. He unsheathed a long dagger slowly, holding it up to the scarlet light. He fixed his murderous gaze on the young princess before answering, “You, little lady, are gonna find out!” With a madman’s laugh he took off on his horse, digging his heels into the animal’s sides and racing across the fields. Caught off guard, Jeanne gasped and scrambled to secure her lantern to her saddle before taking off on Faust, hoping to stop the wannabe assassin.
High up in one of the towers, Lumière and Cogsworth had noticed the first station go dark. They were watching as it, and the station nearest it, both went out at once. “Would you look at that, it seems our guest has arrived,” Lumière chuckled darkly as he watched Jeanne’s lantern signal for help.
“Who do you suppose is going to investigate?” Cogsworth asked.
He thought he was going to have a fit when the master’s blue lantern signaled an answer. “Has he lost his mind?!” he gasped, “He’s going to get himself killed!”
“Do you really have so little faith in our master, my friend?” Lumière asked, trying to keep the mood light. “Besides, he’s the closest one to that particular station, so it makes sense he would take a look around, non?”
Cogsworth was about to retort with something witty when the fog cleared temporarily and he saw another rider head out towards the stations. He was racing across the fields towards the prince. A moment later, a second rider followed the first, going just as fast. Both of them saw the crimson glow of Jeanne’s lantern hanging from her saddle. Judging from Faust’s speed, the erratic waving of her arms, and the shouting, they could guess that she was trying to warn their master of something.
“Now who is this mysterious fellow ahead of Mademoiselle Jeanne?” Lumière questioned.
“I’m not quite sure,” Cogsworth admitted, “but he looks awfully familiar. I know I’ve seen him somewhere before…”
“Whoever this gentleman his, do you think he knows he’s heading straight for the pond?”
“Hasn’t it frozen back over by now?”
“Yes, but only recently. The ice will be perilously thin. I’m no expert on ice, but I’m certain that it won’t be strong enough to support a man riding a horse, galloping at full speed.”
Only a second later Lumière was proven correct. Just as quickly as he appeared, the mystery rider vanished as he fell straight into the pond. There was a yelp of surprise as he crashed into the chilly water, but other than that he disappeared without a sound. Jeanne yanked back on Faust’s reins, and they saw her come to a stop at the pond’s edge in the nick of time.
The commotion had gotten Prince Adam’s attention, and he turned to the pond to watch the hole horse and rider both made when they fell in. No one surfaced from that hole, but a minute later the horse, sans rider, was pawing at the opposite shoreline. Her hooves scrambled to get back on dry land, but she successfully pulled herself out of the cold water. Shaking herself off, the mare galloped into the woods with a neigh of freedom.
Neither servant had seen the rider surface yet. “Has he drowned?” Cogsworth asked.
“It’s possible. I highly doubt he’s still alive after being in the water that long,” Lumière answered.
A scream from the pond grabbed their attention once more. A pair of dark, pudgy arms waved out of the hole, thrashing at its edges before getting a grip on the ice. With what looked like a lot of effort, a short, stout man pulled himself back onto the ice and flopped down on his back.
“I stand corrected,” Lumière said, baffled at the strange man’s inexplicable survival.
“If only I could remember where I know him from! I swear, I’ve seen him before!” Cogsworth huffed, frustrated with his memory. Who was he?
In the next tower over, Belle was asking herself the same question. Her and Mrs. Potts had both seen man and horse crash into the pond, and were now watching him pull himself onto the thin ice.
“Goodness, that was quite a fall! He better get himself inside before he catches his death of cold,” Mrs. Potts exclaimed.
“Thankfully they’re not far from the castle. That poor man would freeze to death in this weather otherwise,” Belle agreed. “Although, it’s quite strange. I think I know who that it.”
“Well, who is it love? Someone from the village?”
Belle didn’t answer for a moment, peering out the window to be certain. With a gasp, she turned to Mrs. Potts and replied, “It’s Lefou! I knew I should have recognized him!”
“You mean that Gaston fellow’s friend? What’s he doing out there? Wouldn’t have expected someone like him to put himself in this much danger.”
“I’m surprised too! On the one hand, good for him if he genuinely wants to help. But something tells me his intentions are not that innocent…”
Both women watched as Adam and Jeanne, still on either side of the pond, shouted across the ice. They were trying to tell each other something, but neither Belle nor Mrs. Potts could make out their words. Adam sounded adamant, Jeanne sounded frustrated. Finally, Jeanne turned back to the woods she’d rushed out from and trotted back. Adam, meanwhile, dismounted from Joan and began crawling across the ice, trying his best not to break it.
“He’s going to try and save that buffoon?” Mrs. Potts asked, sounding just as befuddled as she felt.
“It looks like it! I know Lefou did some horrible things for Gaston, but he doesn’t deserve to die, does he? But with that monster somewhere nearby…” Belle felt both proud of Adam for trying to save the villager, and yet also terrified for him. If he couldn’t get away in time…
Down in the valley, Adam hopped down from Joan’s back with a thump, his heels crunching into the ice-crusted snow. Behind him, he could hear Jeanne yelling back at him as she made for the tree line, “Just so you know, if you die trying to save him I’ll kill you!” He rolled his eyes, but still appreciated the sentiment. Looking at the two light stations he’d originally was going to check out, Adam saw that they were still dark. The Magonian was here. He had to act fast. Out on the ice, Lefou lay gasping for air, his breaths stuttering as he shivered. Panicked breaths of air puffed out of his mouth and clouded before his pudgy face. The water was already starting to freeze, turning his clothes stiff and immobilizing him.
“Don’t worry, I’m coming to get you!” Adam yelled. He got down on the ground and began crawling across the ice. Despite the many layers of warm clothing he wore, the ice still chilled him and he felt his elbows and knees grow numb as he pulled himself along. Even in the darkness of night, the prince felt his eyes squinting; the light of the full moon bounced off the ice and shone back at him, leaving him almost blind. After what seemed like an eternity, he’d made it to Lefou, and he reached out to grab the shorter man’s arm.
Lefou saw his chance. With every bit of resolve he had, he grabbed Adam’s arm with both hands and yanked him down. He tried to flip the prince so he would go tumbling into the hole in the ice, but he wasn’t strong enough. Luckily, Adam saw this coming. Heeding Jeanne’s warning, he pulled back and reached around Lefou’s side, trying to take his dagger. What he didn’t know was that the shorter man had lost the dagger when he’d fallen into the pond. Lefou, noticing the prince’s error in judgement, seized up and wrapped his arms around the taller man’s neck, trying to pull him down. The two men were now wrestling on top of the ice; the prince trying to save the peasant that was trying to kill him.
Belle looked on in horror, her heart in her throat as Adam was thrown dangerously close to the hole’s edge. By now, both light stations had flickered back on, illuminating the scene on the ice in even more frightening detail. On the one hand, she was grateful that the Magonian had left for now, decreasing the danger. On the other hand, her whole body was tense as she could do nothing but watch as Lefou tried to kill her husband.
“That scoundrel! Our master is risking his own life trying to save him, and he returns the favor with attempted murder!” Mrs. Potts seethed. Belle had never heard the older women sound so angry in her life, but then again, she had every reason to be so.
“They need to get out of there!” Belle cried. “If it comes back now, they’re both going to - ”
All at once, the three light stations closest to the pond went out, like candles in the wind.
Out on the ice, Lefou flopped back down, too exhausted by his murder attempt to keep moving. He flailed half-heartedly at Adam’s neck, trying to reach around to choke the prince. Suddenly, a loud burst of air, like a sonic boom, echoed from the sky, and Lefou froze. “Wh-wh-what is that?” he shivered, staring up at the fog-shrouded stars in terror.
Adam, confused, looked at the shorter man before spying a flicker in the water from the hole. With a speed greater than a charging bull’s, the Magonian dove towards the pond, charging in fury at the sight of its reflection in the water. Lefou hadn’t been shivering, he realized. He’d been stammering in fear.
With a look of regret, Adam told his would-be killer, “I really am sorry about this,” and he stood back up. Sprinting across the frozen pond, he felt the ice crack and start to give way under his heels, but the prince kept running until he was at Joan’s side. Blood pounding in his ears, he heard Lefou’s screams as he fell back into the water and a horrifyingly familiar series of clicks, each click closer to him than the last. Throwing his leg over Joan’s back, he grabbed the reins and dug his heels into the mare’s sides. She galloped away from the pond at top speed as a dark shadow blocked out the moon behind him and a ghastly roar made his hair stand on end. The fog swarmed him again, blown back into place by a wind that was anything but natural. The rushing of water almost made him look back in curiosity, but he resisted. A tornado of freezing water, shards of ice, and dusty snow formed above the pond as Lefou was sucked up. Adam could hear him shrieking as Joan bolted, desperate to escape the alien predator. The Magonian rushed at horse and rider, coming close to taking them too, before it pulled up and rocketed back above the fog and retreated into the sky.
As the fog closed him in again, Adam could feel his heart racing in his chest. That was too close, he thought. He kept Joan running, as fast as she could go, not trusting that he was out of harm’s way. Overhead, Lefou could still be heard within the Magonian, its hollow insides causing his screams to echo and be amplified across the entire valley. His wails of fear seemed to come from everywhere at once, causing Adam to become disoriented and lose his sense of direction. The fog didn’t help matters; it was like trying to navigate the ocean: no distinct features for (what seemed like) hundreds of kilometers. He slowed down, worried that in his confusion, he could run right over the edge of the ravine…or into the monster’s jaws. He lightly tugged on Joan’s reins, coming to a stop. Adam kept his grip on them tight in case he had to bolt once again.
He could hear Lefou’s screams getting louder. Looking around above him, Adam saw a dark silhouette materialize out of the fog, slowly coming closer. He instantly put his head down, trying to keep his breathing steady and ignore his shaking hands. Joan held completely still, her prey instincts compelling her to avoid attracting the predator’s attention as much as possible. A shadow crept across the ground beneath them, until a massive dark ring encircled horse and rider. Now that it was closer, Adam could hear Lefou’s shrieking coming from right above his head. He didn’t know how high above him the Magonian was, but it was far too close for his liking.
Lefou’s screams had turned into wails of despair as he realized what was about to happen. He cried out for help, someone, anyone, to try and save him. His pleas were all for naught, and a second later they were mercifully cut off by a squelching crunch. Adam’s heart sank in pity; even though the man had tried to kill him, no one deserved to die like that.
A slow, lazy whirlwind began to swirl around the prince, and yet more popping and clicking could be heard from the Magonian. Snow and fog were whipped up by the wind, ruffling Adam’s hair and freezing the skin on his face. It wasn’t strong enough to lift him up, but he didn’t dare take the chance to run. Any sudden movements could send it back into a rage. He curled his fingers around Joan’s reins even tighter, trying to restore blood flow to the numb fingertips. Just beyond his line of sight, he could see a green lantern signaling him, asking if he needed any help. Ever so slowly, he reached for his lantern, which was clipped to his saddle, and covered and uncovered the light, telling whoever that was to stay where they were. There was no use getting anyone else killed if it could be helped.
Thankfully, the Magonian either didn’t notice the movement or didn’t care. It gave off a strange sound, somewhere between a gurgle and a snort, as it digested the freshly pulverized meal. Adam and Joan didn’t move, not trusting that any more movements wouldn’t set off the monster. The Magonian suddenly roared down on them, blasting them with a violent gust and assaulting their noses with the vile stench of rotten blood, decaying flesh, and gastric juices. Adam resisted the urge to gag at the smell, holding his breath as long as need be.
Meanwhile, Jeanne wasn’t sure if she’d gotten turned around in the fog herself, but when she reached the forest Fife was there. Both of them watched the prince face off against the monster, each of them dealing with their collective anxiety differently. “I can’t watch!” Fife whimpered, shrinking down in his saddle and covering his eyes.
“I c-can’t look away,” Jeanne shivered. “I want to, but I just can’t!” She was shielding her own eyes, focusing on looking only at Adam and not the Magonian. She was trying, and failing, to hide how scared she was from Fife. She liked to think of herself as a brave person, but right now every fiber of her being was alight with terror.
She suddenly felt a hand, cold despite the glove it wore, grab her own and offer a reassuring squeeze. She felt herself tense up at the action, but not necessarily in a bad way. Jeanne squeezed Fife’s hand back and whispered, “I’ll tell you when it’s over.”
“Thank you!” he whispered back gratefully.
It didn’t take long for it to end, fortunately. Frustrated, the Magonian gave Adam one last snarl, and lifted off back into the fog. It retreated into the distance, dipping behind a hill and disappearing from view. Adam appeared clearly in the distance, and Jeanne could see him reaching for the lantern again. A minute later, a blue light flashed back a series of signals, and Jeanne gasped as she interpreted them.
“He’s going to do it,” she muttered.
“Do what?” Fife asked, daring to look up.
“He’s gonna do a run. He’s doing a run!”
“He is?”
“Yes, look! He’s running back, his hood is pulled up! You can see the eyes we sewed on!”
“I really hope this works!”
“…Me too.”
Out in the snowy fields, Adam brought Joan to a trot, using the eyes on his hood to attract the Magonian’s attention, this time on purpose. Just overhead, he could see the Magonian’s dorsal side surface above the fog like a shark’s fin. It cruised along momentarily, sneaking closer and closer to try and goad Adam into turning back. The prince stayed the course, continuing to gallop in a straight line right next to the ravine on his left. Failing to bluff him into retreating, the monster growled with a sound like thunder and soared into the bleak dark sky; a shooting star falling in reverse.
Adam rode through the snow and icy wind, his eyes squinting in pain as new snowflakes began to fall from the sky. He kept his lantern on his left, uncovered and brilliantly lit, to make sure he didn’t make a wrong step and start falling into the rocky abyss. With the fog closing him in, it felt like he was running through a dark grey sea; waves of clouds instead of water battering him as he pressed on. He dug his heels into Joan’s side, coaxing her to keep going.
On his right, Adam passed another light station, this one shining brightly through the fog. Then he passed another one, also lit. And another. He wasn’t sure if the Magonian had fled or was just playing games with him, but he had to make sure it followed him. Tightening the hood of his cloak, he double-checked that the eyes sewn on the back were still visible. Maybe if he was going faster, it would present a more exciting target to the lethal predator. Grabbing his riding crop, he tapped Joan’s side and clicked his tongue, causing the mare to speed up. Her breathing was labored now, each of her breaths condensation before her nose in puffs of steam. Adam leaned against her neck, tucking himself down to create as little wind resistance as possible. At this point, all he could do was pray that the Magonian would take the bait.
And take the bait it did. Just as quickly as it disappeared, the Magonian reappeared, descending from the clouds on the western horizon. It shot towards Adam with the speed of a bullet, determined to overtake him and Joan. As it got closer, the eight light stations closest to its point of impact suddenly went out, winking out of sight like stars in the morning sun. Just before it could slam its massive bulk into the ground, it pulled up and kept speeding along. The force of the near impact, combined with the Magonian’s size, causing waves of snow to be thrown into the air. Swells of snow, almost half as tall as the castle itself, were stirred up from the frozen earth and created a trench directly under the Magonian’s flight path. Banks of snow carpeted the bridge over the ravine, and a freezing blast of air buffeted the castle walls, throwing back anyone standing right next to a window.
Adam and Joan had all but vanished inside the inverted blizzard. Quickly, he reached into one of his two saddlebags and pulled out a pouch. It was made of coarse brown fabric, and was sewn completely shut so its contents were contained. This part was important. They had a finite amount of this resource; the stores in the castle combined with what they’d salvaged from the village was not a large amount. And that wasn’t even considering that half of it went towards plan B.
The resource in question? Gunpowder.
Adam gripped the reins in his right hand and opened the lantern with his left. Carefully turning it so the tiny flame wasn’t blown out, he used his teeth to unravel one of the course brown threads holding the gunpowder in place, and stuck it inside the lantern. The thread caught on fire instantly, and Adam slowed Joan down as he closed the lantern. This was the most dangerous part. Because of the weight of the pouch, they couldn’t attach a sail to it and let it fly into the Magonian’s maw.
This meant that he had to get as close as possible to its mouth.
The world around him darkened as the Magonian’s body overshadowed him, and he swore for a moment he could hear someone screaming. It might have been a trick of the wind, an unpleasant past memory of the monster, or something else, but he ignored it as best as he could. Just as the makeshift fuse was burned halfway down, he turned around and heaved the pouch right into the dark maw behind him. He watched it disappear down the Magonian’s throat, and he quickly turned forward and grabbed Joan’s reins with both hands. He coaxed Joan into a sprint once more, the exhausted but determined mare giving it all she had in that moment. Her coat was now shiny with sweat, and she was starting to get chilled fast, but getting her master out of danger trumped her increasing discomfort.
Reaching into the other saddlebag, Adam pulled out a series of fabric strips, torn from colorful bed sheets, attached to a small parachute on one end. The other end was tied around the horn of his saddle. Releasing the end with the parachute, it fell behind him until it was yanked upwards with a sudden tug. The Magonian, recognizing that it was associated with being choked, pulled up abruptly, turning on its side to avoid ingesting the hazard. With all the light stations out, and only the light of the moon to provide visibility, the Magonian’s white hide was lit up with the luster of a pearl. If you didn’t know what was going on, you would have sworn in that moment that a second moon had fallen to earth.
Like all predators, it was both beautiful and deadly.
Hearing the monster start to back off, Adam pulled on Joan’s reins and slowed her down again, coaxing her to a trot with a gentle word. Overhead, he watched as the Magonian took off again, rocketing back up into the sky. Just as it vanished behind a bank of oncoming storm clouds, he heard a massive boom. Then, it was silent.
Adam waited for a moment, not daring to believe their luck. He stared at the sky, anxiously waiting for any sign of its return, but none came.
Everyone collectively held their breath to see if it was really over. In one of the towers, Mrs. Potts and Belle watched the sky, looking at every cloud closely to see if it was hiding in one of them. After what seemed like an eternity, Mrs. Potts sighed and said, “By Jove, I think it actually worked!”
“It must have!” Belle agreed. “It would have come back by now if it hadn’t worked!”
But as Belle was leaning out the window to get a closer look, she realized something. Despite the fact that all the light stations were back on, she quickly realized that something was off. It was an innocuous observation; not noteworthy at all under normal circumstances. But these weren’t normal circumstances.
“It’s quiet,” she noted. “Too quiet…”
“What do you mean, love?”
“It’s just, I know this sounds trivial, but…it’s too quiet. I can’t hear any birdsong, or any sounds of life, from the forest.”
“Well I suppose most everything is either hibernating or has migrated by now, I’m sure it’s not much to be concerned about.”
“Normally I’d think so too, but there’s always a few birds that stay here through the winter. And every time Adam and I encountered the Magonian, the only way we knew it was really gone was when the birds started singing again. But I hear nothing!”
Mrs. Potts went over to the window and took a listen herself. After hearing nothing, she found herself agreeing with Belle: “Now that you mention it, it is awfully quiet out there.”
“I have a bad feeling about this, Mrs. Potts. I don’t think the worst is behind us yet…”
Out in the forest, Fife and Jeanne were also watching the sky, trying to see if the Magonian would come back. “It’s a bit soon to tell that it worked,” Jeanne stated.
“I think so too. It’s only been a few minutes,” Fife agreed.
“I’m going to go check on A – the prince,” Jeanne quickly corrected. “That was a pretty close call, chances are he’s a bit shaken up.”
“Good idea, I…I think I’ll stay here until I’m sure it’s safe.”
“Honestly? I don’t blame you. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Jeanne tapped Faust’s sides lightly. The stallion, trusting his rider despite the mask on his eyes, began cantering across the fields.
“Jeanne?”
She turned back to respond, “Yes?”
“Be careful.”
She offered a smile of encouragement, and replied, “You too, Fife.” Then she turned forward and continued on to Adam.
The younger court composer remained hidden for a moment, before hesitantly tapping his horse’s sides and peering out of the woods. He was riding Frileux, who oddly enough had a temperament that matched his own rather closely. To be fair, the horse’s main source of anxiety tonight was that he was blindfolded, a justifiable reason to be nervous. It was therefore up to the rider to do the navigating for both of them. Fife, not seeing anything unnatural in the sky, decided that it was safe enough, at least, and cajoled Frileux into stepping out of the trees and into the open.
At first glance, Fife thought it must be over. None of the light stations were out, and the other riders were stepping out of their hiding places. Most of them had been tucked away in the trees, sneaking among the pines and forest shadows unless they were needed. Now, they were slowly tiptoeing out into the fields, their confidence growing with each passing minute that the Magonian didn’t show up. One of them started signaling to Fife, the brown light of his lantern flashing quickly asking if he was all right. Fife recognized him as one of the castle cooks; he didn’t quite remember his name but had seen his face a few times. He answered back, the green light of his own lantern sending confirmation that he was okay.
Something didn’t feel right, though. Besides the crunching of snow under Frileux’s hooves, it was terribly quiet for this time of night. Normally, if he were out in the woods during this time, he’d hear the typical things you’d hear in a forest: the howling of wolves, the hooting of owls, the thumping of rabbits as they dashed through the trees. But he heard nothing. Well, that last part was somewhat inaccurate: he could hear the sound of his heartbeat growing louder in his ears. Fife was growing nervous. He could feel his anxiety from a few minutes ago sink in again. He controlled his breathing as best as he could and ignored the fact that his heart had started racing again. It was only a matter of when and what, not if, something would snap the tension like a string stretched too far.
And snap it did. Fife watched the man with the brown lantern as he suddenly stopped signaling back and froze. He held his lantern in his hand still, and stared unmoving at the sky somewhere behind Fife. In his frozen state, the man could have been mistaken for a statue in his transfixed condition.
Fife was just about to signal back if he was all right when he felt a chill, but not from the cold. It was the kind of chill that sends shivers down your spine, and makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He felt a sense of foreboding and dread. And then he heard a familiar series of clicks.
He couldn’t even bolt back into the safety of the trees before a dark shadow passed overhead. Fife froze in place, keeping his head down and not breathing again until it was gone. He thought he caught the smell of burning flesh as the monster flew past him. Peering up cautiously, he didn’t have time to do anything but watch as the man with the brown lantern was sucked up by the enraged Magonian. A tornado of white trapped the man and his horse, and Fife watched on in horror as both of them swirled around momentarily, screaming all the while. With a hiss, the Magonian pulled both of them into its mouth, and their screams were quickly silenced.
Chaos quickly broke out among everyone else. There were screams coming from everywhere as most of the riders tried to bolt to either the woods or across the bridge to the castle. One of them charged straight for the iced-over pond, deciding that the risk of drowning or hypothermia was worth avoiding death by ingestion. Fife couldn’t hear anything from the castle, assuming that they were hiding and trying to remain silent. It was at this moment, the worst possible one, that the moon was covered by a long stretch of storm clouds, plunging the valley into pitch-black darkness. Only now, in this lightless void, could he see what the source of the burning flesh smell was: the pouch of gunpower the master had thrown into the Magonian’s mouth had only managed to set its throat on fire, and with a sharp inhale of cold wind the flames were quickly snuffed out.
Fife could only see faint dots of colorful light as rider raced around erratically, desperately trying to find cover from the monster overhead. He was frozen to the spot in fear, hoping that maybe, if he held still, the Magonian would ignore him. He planned to stay like that for as long as it took. At least, that was what he was planning when he saw someone race just past him. He only caught a flicker of a white lantern, but was able to recognize the rider as one of the villagers. He heard a growl somewhere over his head, and something inside the young man snapped.
Fife would never describe himself as a man of action, and even after that day would continue to deny that he was. Which was a fair assessment, in all honesty. But in that one moment, he did something that was very much out of character: he charged right into danger. He kicked Frileux’s sides hard, and sent the horse galloping towards the unknown villager with the white lantern.
He quickly noticed that the other man kept looking back, trying to find the monster so he could avoid it. Fife quickly caught up to him, cupped his hands around his mouth, and began shouting, “Don’t look! Don’t look! It’ll get you if you look!”
“I can’t see it, I can’t see it! Where is it?!” the villager yelled back, ignoring Fife’s warning. He was barely watching where he was going, and Fife had to grab the other horse’s reins to stop him from hitting a tree at the last moment. He yanked as hard as he could on both horse’s reins and desperately tried to lead them to safety in the woods.
As bold as Fife’s actions were, they were in vain. A gust of wind began swirling around them, and the other horse’s reins were snatched out of his hand before he realized what was happening. If he hadn’t been wearing gloves, he would have surely gotten a friction burn on his palm. The villager howled in terror as both he and his horse were sucked up into the air and into the Magonian’s maw. Even long after their screams had been silenced, Fife could still hear them ringing in his ears.
He didn’t realize it until then, but Fife had made a grave error when he’d tried to save the villager. When the horse’s reins were pulled from his hand, he’d turned around to try and grab the other man’s hand. While looking at the man’s anguished face, for a split second he’d also accidentally looked at the Magonian, staring right into the blackened, charred abyss that was its throat. After eating the villager, it turned its attention to Fife. At this painfully small distance, the clicking and popping sounds it made were deafening to the composer. This time, he didn’t freeze and wait for it to leave, knowing that it wouldn’t leave until he was eaten too. He kicked Frileux as hard as he could, and the young horse sprinted even faster, trying to get away from the infuriated predator. Fife could feel its cold shadow overtake him, and an even colder wind start to swirl around him –
“HEY! OVER HERE!”
The wind suddenly stopped and the shadow receded. Through the banks of fog that slithered through the valley, Fife saw Jeanne a little ways off, holding her red lantern up high and yelling at the Magonian, taunting it.
“COME AND GET ME, YA OVERGROWN FRISBEE!” she yelled, waving her other arm and getting the monster’s attention.
“Jeanne! What are you doing?!” Fife yelled back.
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m saving your life!”
“Jeanne, get out of there! Save yourself!”
“Don’t worry about me! Run, Fife, RUN!”
To her relief, Jeanne saw Fife run towards safety, and she stared down the Magonian momentarily before turning around and bolting. Noticing that she wasn’t far from the forest, she steered Faust in that direction, praying that they would make it to the tree line before it caught up with her. Jeanne could hear a furious growl, like the first rumblings of thunder before the storm, behind her as the Magonian closed in. The icy wind blistered her face as the edge of a dark shadow slowly began to eclipse her. It was almost on top of her –
Safe! She was in the forest, she was safe. Jeanne kept Faust going at a trot, just to be sure she was far away from open ground, before slowing him to a halt. Both horse and rider took a precious moment to catch their breath. Faust’s breaths came in heaves, the stallion almost ready to collapse from all the galloping he’d done tonight. Jeanne took a breather of her own, and looked up at the dense forest canopy. Even though many of the trees had already shed their leaves, the evergreens provided enough cover to almost cut off the sky completely. Not a single star, or beam of cold moonlight, came through. Jeanne sighed in relief. Because of the thick branches, it should be almost impossible for the Magonian to pinpoint where she was. Frankly, she would be surprised if it could even see her.
Never underestimate the determination of an angry predator.
The forest was flooded with the harsh light of the moon as the first few trees were ripped out of the ground. Clods of dirt fell from the tightly packed roots, and blended with the snow falling in heaps off the branches. Jeanne and Faust stood in the center of a green, brown, and white maelstrom, both of them paralyzed with fear. They heard the sound of branches breaking overhead, and the heady scent of pine and tree sap was mixed into the bitterly cold wind. Jeanne heard someone screaming, and realized with a start that she was the one screaming. She could feel her body start to become weightless, and she gripped the saddle for dear life. Faust’s hooves were flailing at the snow that was quickly disappearing from underneath him, trying in vain to remain in contact with the ground. Her mind flashed back to that first night she escaped the Magonian, heart racing as that traumatic memory was replayed in real time. Jeanne closed her eyes, hoping that at least her death would be quick…
Faust fell back to the ground with a thump, and the trees started falling down from the sky. With earth-shaking thuds, the stripped-bare trunks of dozens of pines fell in a ring around Jeanne. One of them came so close to hitting her that she could feel the impact of the tree with the ground. Jeanne kept her eyes down, looking up just enough to make sure her and Faust weren’t flattened by a falling pine. She thought she heard someone shouting, but her ears were still ringing from the tornado she barely survived.
Dazed and confused, Jeanne looked out across the newly created clearing and saw Adam, yelling at her and distracting the Magonian. Before she could shout at him to stop, the monster began moving towards the prince. It turned to face him agonizingly slow, for it was relishing in the horror its latest victim must be feeling. It took off away from Jeanne, making a beeline for Adam. It had already let two potential meals get away, this one was not going to do the same.
Adam didn’t even wait for it to fully face him before he turned around and bolted. He kicked Joan’s sides hard, and tapped her with the riding crop. The horse’s hooves churned up the snow even further than it already was, mixing the newly exposed mud below with the white powder on top. Already, with the plummeting temperature the snow was starting to freeze over again, creating an icy crust and an even icier tripping hazard. Fortunately for Adam, Joan’s hooves were sure and steady as she tried to carry her master out of danger. The sound of the Magonian gaining on them got louder and louder, as it got closer and closer. Adam chose to focus only on the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. It meant at least that he was still alive, and he could still fight.
The Magonian sought to change that. With a final burst of effort, it caught up to its target, and swooped in low to try and finish them off. The telltale roar of a tornado began to ring in the icy air, this one more powerful than all the others that came before. Joan threw herself forward, just barely getting out of the hellish hurricane before it could claim them.
She sadly wasn’t fast enough to get them out of harm’s way unscathed. As Joan carried Adam through the deadly winds, she whinnied in fright as both of them were thrown into the air. To Adam, it felt like someone had tied a rope under his arms and yanked him abruptly upward. He felt the air get knocked out of his lungs as he and Joan soared fifteen meters above the ground, barely surfacing above the dark grey fog. For a moment, Adam caught a glimpse of a brilliant December sky. A lunar halo had formed around the full winter moon, its hazy light drowning out the pinpricks of starlight that dotted the dark expanse beyond.
It was like the calm eye of the storm.
That brief moment of serenity was cut off as he fell back to earth, coming to a painful stop as he impacted the ground. Adam had somehow twisted around in the air as he fell, and when he landed it was right on top of his left arm. There was an audible crack, and searing pain shot up his arm and almost blinded him with agony. He bit back a scream, opting to collapse into the snow instead. Adam’s breath came in labored gasps, and the throbbing he felt at the site of the break sped up his already-racing heart. He tried to sit up, but with only one good arm to push himself up on he simply couldn’t do it. Had his good luck finally run out? Would this be the night he died? He lay back down in the snow, hoping that he could at least accept his fate with dignity.
Belle had seen enough. She snatched her cloak and darted out of the room, ignoring Mrs. Potts asking where she was going. She ran down the dark castle halls, her footsteps echoing around the ancient stone corridors. Belle didn’t stop running until she made it to the stables. Phillipe stood waiting in his stall, nervously shifting from hoof to hoof at the sounds he was hearing outside. Belle threw on his saddle, a bridle, and tore off a section of her dress so she could tie a blindfold across Phillipe’s eyes. She pulled open the stable doors, the hinges groaning as the masses of wood moved. The cold hit her like a slap to the face, but Belle simply pulled the hood of her cloak down tighter. Bracing herself, she kicked Phillipe’s sides and made for the bridge, horse and rider galloping right into the heart of danger.
Meanwhile, Fife was in the rose garden, praying that the hiding spot he’d found would be sufficient to avoid getting the monster’s attention. He’d dismounted his horse, tying the reins to a nearby statue, and he kneeled behind a hedge, as quiet as a church mouse. He could still hear the panicked screams of the other riders down in the valley. It wasn’t unreasonable to assume that each one was wondering if he or she was next. Fife was shaking as he pulled away one of the bush’s leafless branches and cautiously looked down into the valley. Whether he shook from the cold or fear, he couldn’t tell. His fingers and toes were starting to grow numb, and he hoped that this would all be over before they became frostbitten.
Fife felt the heavy weight of guilt come over him, like a weighted blanket on his shoulders. What was Jeanne thinking, letting him run to safety while she put herself right in that monster’s path? Why didn’t she listen to him when he told her to save herself? He should have been the one to throw himself in harm’s way, she should have been the one that escaped. Then again…why did he care so much to begin with?
Through the intense shame he felt, there was a spark of confusion. On some level, he supposed, it made sense why he was so worried about her. She was his friend, one of the few friends he’d ever had in his life. But oddly enough, in the short time he’d gotten to know her, something had changed…then it hit him. He no longer liked her as a friend, but something more.
He dismissed the thought as quickly as he had had it. Jeanne was Belle’s cousin, it would be too awkward to work out. Besides, if Belle was the future queen, then that meant Jeanne was royalty by association, of sorts. Servants were never supposed to marry into royalty, it just wasn’t done! Fife knew that he should let it go, it just wasn’t meant to be. She probably didn’t even like him back!
…did she?
Fife slowly realized that it was quiet again, too quiet. He couldn’t hear anymore screaming, which should have been a good thing. But it wasn’t just the screaming that had stopped, it was all sound completely. It was like the world was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next. Fife looked down into the valley again, trying to see what was going on. The fog still flowed thick as syrup, and he couldn’t see any of the riders’ lanterns. Most of the light stations on this side of the castle were still lit, so the Magonian must be gone. He fortunately didn’t catch a glimpse of it above the valley, and he felt himself start to relax a little.
He wasn’t like that for long. With a suddenness that sent a chill down his spine, the three light stations closest to him went out all at once. But he didn’t know where it was. Where was it? Where was it? The rumblings of an oncoming storm could be heard echoing on the horizon. The clouds were far away, but even from here Fife could hear the thunder, each clap booming like a cannon had gone off. From somewhere behind him, he heard another roar of thunder, this one much closer. He looked down into the valley once more, and –
- saw the Magonian surface above the fog and disappear into a cloud.
Fife’s blood ran cold when he realized his mistake. He looked at it. He’d looked at it, and it was coming to get him. And he wasn’t getting a second distraction.
He turned back, his heart pounding so hard he thought it would leap out of his chest. He only had a minute, if that. Then Fife looked at the rose bushes. He winced at what he would have to do, but if it saved his life it would be worth it. He ran to Frileux’s side and untied his reins and blindfold, letting the young stallion get to safety. Fife stared at the rose bushes, braced himself, and dove right into them. The skeletal branches, baring nothing but thorns in the bleak of winter, scratched at Fife’s arms and hands as he dug down. Ignoring the awful pain he felt, he pulled himself deeper into the foliage, the thorns tearing at his clothes and puncturing his skin all over his body. One thorn came dangerously close to taking out his right eye, but he closed it in time and only received a sharp nick across the eyelid. Like the claws of dozens of wolves, the thorn-laden branches ripped at his flesh as rivulets of blood stained his clothes. He gasped in pain as a particularly sharp series of thorns tore at his neck, but kept on going.
Fife ran out of time far too soon. He heard the telltale series of clicking pops that signaled the Magonian’s arrival as it crested the gorge and snuck up on him. The sky above him grew dark, and a cold wind began to blow. As a last resort, Fife lunged for the bases of the two largest plants near him, holding back a yelp of pain as the thorns shredded the delicate skin on his wrists. His vision turned white as the snow was lifted up into the maelstrom. He heard the sound of roots being ripped as the rose bushes were torn from the soil and flew into the Magonian’s mouth. One by one, each of the plants were plucked from the ground and were sucked up into the blackened orifice. Fife felt his stomach lurch as the rose bushes he’d burrowed into were ripped out, and he shot upwards. The ground disappeared from view, and the air grew cold and dark as he entered the Magonian’s mouth. He grit his teeth, expecting to be pulled into the throat and swallowed at any moment…
He fell out of the massive maw, plummeting a short distance before crashing into the snow. The thorns pierced his side as he landed on part of a bush, and he failed to hold back a scream of pain. Fife watched as more rose bushes, the soil still clumped to their roots, rained all around him. He didn’t have time to congratulate himself for his quick thinking, though. Behind him, he heard the Magonian make a strange new sound. It wasn’t the clicking and popping in anticipation of its next meal. It wasn’t the growl as its prey escaped him. It wasn’t the roar it made when it was especially angry. No, this was something else. Something that sounded even more sinister. A low groan, a muted moaning whine that was slowly increasing in pitch. The moon lit up the ground again, but Fife didn’t feel safe now that it was leaving. If anything, his fear was growing stronger.
Things were about to get worse. The only question was, how?
____________________________________________________________________________________
Phillipe’s thundering hoof steps were the only thing Belle heard as she made her way quickly across the bridge. A thin coat of ice covered the weathered stone, and Phillipe treaded carefully to avoid twisting an ankle. Belle pulled her hood tighter over her head as the cold wind blew past, making her ears ache. In front of her, the thick fog obscured the other side of the bridge, making it look like it led right into the clouds. Behind her, the castle had disappeared into the grey stillness. The fog trapped both of them in that lonely point of existence; nothing else in the world except for the clouds and the bridge they stood on. But she knew better than that. She kept her eyes up as high as she dared; the complete silence that had settled on the valley put her on high alert. She’d encountered this monster enough times to know what total silence meant.
Belle was about halfway across the bridge when she heard the sound of something large flying through the air. She froze, tugging on Phillipe’s reins to bring him to a halt and looking down at the ground. There was no doubt in her mind what it was; the Magonian was the only thing big enough to be heard from this far away. There was something rather unusual about the direction the sound came from, though. Instead of coming from somewhere above her, Belle swore that the Magonian was approaching right from the side. As she listened more, the sound began to move, and now it was almost like the Magonian was below her. Belle was confused for a second, trying to understand how that was possible, until she realized –
- it was in the gorge.
Belle stared at a point on the bridge beneath her, at a stone to the left of Phillipe’s hoof, as the Magonian made its final approach. She heard it slow down as it reached her, and stiffened as it made its signature series of clicks and pops. As it passed underneath the bridge, turning its massive body on its side to avoid hitting the pillars, those clicks and pops boomed and echoed, vibrating the ancient stones that held Belle and Phillipe aloft. Belle’s heart was beating faster than ever as it passed slowly by. She didn’t know if it could sense her presence when she was above it, but she wasn’t taking any chances. When the Magonian reached the other side, Belle listened as it surfaced above the lip of the gorge and starting attacking the rose garden. She didn’t know if there was someone hiding there, but she prayed that they would escape unharmed.
Even though the odds were astronomically small.
Reaching the other side, Belle began looking frantically around for Adam. She had seen him and his horse get thrown into the air, but wasn’t sure where either of them had landed. She lit the lantern she had grabbed before leaving the castle, its light casting an amber aura about three meters in radius. It lit up the fog past that, creating a hazy glow that made it difficult for Belle to see beyond, but she pressed on regardless.
As she cautiously rode through the darkness and low-lying clouds, she began to hear something new. Her intuition told her it was the Magonian; she’d never heard the sound before and it made the most sense. Belle was careful not to look in the direction of the sound, instead going in the direction she thought she saw Adam fall. She wasn’t even sure if he would find him, for all she knew he was already –
- no, better not think that.
There was a chance, a slim chance, that the Magonian had abandoned its hunt for the prince in search of different prey. It didn’t seem to have any particular goal in mind; after all, it had abandoned its pursuit of both Fife and Jeanne when someone else had distracted it, even though both of them were easy pickings at that point. Was it just easily distracted? Not thinking straight in its mindless rage? Whatever she would call it, Belle prayed that the same thing was true for Adam, and he had survived.
The curious sound she had heard before was growing louder, and moving slowly towards her. Belle bit back her fear and pushed on, hoping her luck hadn’t run out. She had to bite back a cry of relief when she saw a faint blue glow through the fog and a pair of dark shadows lying near it. One of them, distinctly horse-shaped, was struggling to its feet, while the other one lay prone on the ground. Kicking Phillipe’s sides, Belle galloped over to them, leaping out of the saddle and kneeling next to Adam.
“Adam, Adam, wake up!” Belle whispered, shaking his shoulder. “We need to get out of here, please wake up!”
Adam groaned and stirred, his head fuzzy with pain. “…Belle?” he groaned, his voice raspy and sounding confused. “What are you doing? It’s not safe out here for you!”
“It’s not safe out here for you either!” she exclaimed, turning him over so he was on his back. She saw his blood-stained left sleeve and crooked arm and gasped. “Your arm! What happened?”
“Broke it. Let’s just say this wasn’t the smartest way to break my fall,” he chuckled weakly.
Out in the fog, the strange sound was growing closer.
“Belle, get out of here! I’ll be fine!” he lied.
“No, you won’t be! I’m not leaving without you!” she snapped, pulling Adam to his feet with his good arm and throwing it across her shoulders.
“I’ll only slow you down! I can’t ride Joan back like this!” he argued.
“So Phillipe will carry both of us!” she countered.
The sound grew closer, and the fog started blowing slowly away. Neither royal noticed the rapidly receding clouds, or the cold moonlight steadily growing brighter around them.
“Don’t be ridiculous, he can’t carry both of us!” Adam exclaimed.
Phillipe gave an agitated snort, seemingly taking offence at the statement. However, it wasn’t Adam’s jab that was making him nervous. He couldn’t see anything with the blindfold on, but his senses told him something was wrong.
“He has to at least try! Both of us are getting out of here alive, and that’s that!” Belle concluded stubbornly.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something large and white. It didn’t look like the Magonian however; it looked more like a long white curtain, unrolling from the sky and snapping straight with a thump. Belle briefly glanced at it and –
Froze.
She still supported Adam’s weight, but the rest of her had become immobile as a statue. Adam, concerned, made the mistake of looking where she was and froze along with her.
It could only be the Magonian, nothing else was that big, but that was the only thing that had remained consistent. It was no longer disk-shaped, its tissue and flesh having unfolded somehow. Its folds flickered and whipped out from the center of its body, rippling like giant white curtains in the cold winter wind. A massive arc of fabric-like tissue, pockmarked with holes that stretched along the material, covered its top in an ivory dome. There was a mass of tissue in its center, tight and balled-up. In this state, the Magonian towered above the castle, engulfing the stars and eclipsing the moon, its ebony shadow stretching across the entire valley floor. Still droning that awful sound, it hovered there, like a jellyfish held aloft by currents of winds instead of water.
It was horrifying, it was dangerous, it was deadly. It was also tragically beautiful. Belle and Adam stood transfixed by the site, every instinct and intelligent thought in them telling them to run, to hide, to get out of there, but neither of them were able to move. Adam watched its wavering form slowly lurk closer, not feeling alarmed despite his fear as the flesh in its center parted. With a sound that sent shivers down his spine, the flesh rubbed against itself as it pulled away and revealed a dark orb on a stalk, its inky blackness focused on him and Belle.
Belle was reminded of the seraphim described in the book of Isaiah: “…each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. And one called to another and said: Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.” Yes, glory could be found in all corners of creation, even here on the edge of death. Wasn’t that one of the most beautiful things about life, anyway? That it was only temporary, and that the finality of death could snuff it out in an instant?
A roar bellowed across the valley, breaking them free from the monster’s spell. Adam and Belle pulled away sharply, believing that it was about to strike. To their surprise, the Magonian’s form began twisting, as if it was as alarmed by that roar as they were. Confused, they watched as it began moving away from them and towards something else.
They looked below the Magonian, at its target, and understood. For it wasn’t the monster that made that roar.
On the other side of the valley, Faust paced from side to side nervously in the snow. Jeanne had a tight grip on his reins, stopping him from bolting towards safety. But, it wasn’t exactly Jeanne anymore…at least, not the Jeanne anyone had expected to see. She had been transformed into the Beast once more; an involuntary metamorphosis to be sure, but given the circumstances, not an unwelcome one. Her hood was thrown back, exposing her long curling horns to the icy winter wind and blowing the fur on her head back. Her paws gripped the reins tightly, so tightly the claws dug into the palms and begot pinpricks of blood. She growled lowly up at the Magonian, which hissed and retreated a little ways from her. Her sapphire eyes were narrowed, and she fixed the spectral Leviathan with a withering glare. The challenge only incensed the monster once more, and it let out a ghostly groan as it mirrored her aggression and stalked closer once again.
As it drifted closer, Jeanne tugged hard on Faust’s reins and the stallion began stepping back. She kept her eyes locked on the Magonian as much as she could, but Adam and Belle could see her gaze flickering down to them every so often.
“What’s she doing?” Adam whispered, keeping his eyes down, trying to avoid attracting the monster’s attention again.
“I don’t know, but she’s only making it angrier!” Belle replied, watching Jeanne with equal parts fear and interest. “She needs to get out of there!”
“JEANNE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Adam shouted. He looked up as he yelled, pulling the Magonian’s attention back towards him and Belle. “IT’S NO USE, JUST LEAVE, SAVE YOURSELF!”
As the monster crept back towards them, the aperture in the center of its body parted again, and the dark orb emerged once more. They could now see that a strange fold of tissue surrounded it, bunched up and vaguely square-shaped.
Jeanne held Faust in place as her eyes locked on Adam and Belle’s. Her gaze, hard and piercing to the monster’s eyes, softened as she looked back at the only family she had left. She said nothing, her expression unreadable through her fanged maw and dark fur. She only lifted a paw, stretching out an open palm towards them, and then waved it to the side quickly.
Neither royal understood the gesture at first, and stared back in confusion. Frustrated, Jeanne repeated the motion, scowling and waving her paw again with more aggression.
Belle’s heart sank as she realized what Jeanne was trying to say. “She wants us to run,” she murmured.
“But we’re too close!” Adam protested. “We won’t be able to get away in time!”
“If all three of us tried to run, then yes. Which is why she won’t.” Belle replied solemnly. “She wants us to save ourselves.”
“She’ll die if she stays behind!” Adam argued. There was something desperate about his tone, something Belle heard very rarely. Even if he denied it later, which seemed unlikely, she could tell that the thought of letting Jeanne sacrifice herself didn’t sit well with him.
“It’s her choice,” Belle said softly. “This is what she wants.”
Adam said nothing in reply; he didn’t agree with her decision at all and wanted all three of them to get out alive. But Fate had made it clear that that wasn’t happening. One of them had to stay behind. And Jeanne had decided that it would be her.
Belle helped Adam back into Joan’s saddle, the prince using his good arm to hold on to the horn tightly. She mounted Phillipe, holding his reins firmly to make sure he didn’t run. She looked back at Jeanne and nodded, hoping that the other woman saw her reply.
The young beast saw Belle’s nod and offered a sad fanged smile. Even from this distance, both royals could see the conflicted look in her eyes. She was afraid, just as afraid as they were, of what she had to do.
But they also saw resolve. She may have been scared, she didn’t want to die any more than they wanted her to, but was willing to lay her life down if it meant they kept theirs.
Jeanne turned her gaze back to the Magonian and glared sharply at it. Her dark blue eyes were filled with aggression and fury as she stared down the monster that had taken everything from her. The Magonian responded in kind, staring down the thing that had been a thorn in its side for so long. This thing had burned it, starved it, challenged it, and everywhere it went, that thing had been there, prolonging its torment. Its inner eye extended once more, leering down at her as it brought out its threat display. A series of bright green tendrils, some of them charred black from ingesting the failed bomb, flared dramatically from its eye. Snapping at the wind with the sound of thousands of whips cracking, it crept closer to its challenger, planning on ending this once and for all.
The beast growled once more, her eyes narrowed as she lowered her horned head. Reaching down, she ripped the blindfold from Faust’s eyes, allowing him to stare down the monster before them. Her clawed hind feet tapped his sides gently, and the horse began marching forward. His hooves dug into the snow with surefootedness as he stepped closer, his head held high as he stared down the otherworldly predator. The Magonian whipped its tendrils faster, upping the aggression as the beast refused to back down. Jeanne lifted her head and growled. She may have been a Beast, but she was also a future queen.
And queens bowed to no one.
The Magonian shrieked and flew faster, its folds waving wildly as it reached to enveloped Jeanne and Faust. The wind generated by the monster’s movements sent the snow blowing up, whipping Jeanne’s fur and Faust’s mane and tail back. The icy gusts didn’t deter them. Jeanne kicked Faust’s sides and the stallion took off in a gallop. He tossed up the snow as he bolted towards the Magonian’s maw, his head lowered against the bitterly cold winter winds. His breath coming in labored snorts, Faust charged the monster, mustering the last of his strength. Jeanne held on, never breaking eye contact with the heavenly horror that loomed above. Right before the two of them disappeared from view, Jeanne roared a final time and Faust whinnied as he gave a flying leap into the monster’s jaws.
That was the last thing anyone heard before it was silent once more.
____________________________________________________________________________________
Adam and Belle waited with bated breath, hoping and praying that by some miracle Jeanne had survived. Neither of them dared to look at the monster, watching the ground below it to see if their descendent showed up unharmed. The Magonian hung in the cold night sky, immobile after confronting its challenger, and gave no indication either way of how the encounter had gone.
“Jeanne?” Belle whispered, her hopes sinking as more time ticked by without a positive sign.
She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes as the Magonian began turning back towards her, moving slowly and surely as its eye fixed itself back on her and Adam. There was no sign of Jeanne; no frantic yelling to run away, no additional challenge to the monster, nothing at all. Which was to be expected by now; they knew better than most that this Leviathan lit up with lunar luminance left no leftovers.
She was gone. It was up to them now.
Well, technically, up to her. There was no way that she would let Adam put himself in harm’s way again, not with his broken arm. She had to get him to safety.
“I’ll distract it while you go get help,” Belle said quickly, watching the Magonian drift closer.
“What? Belle, I love you, but what on earth are you thinking?!”
“I’m thinking, ‘my husband that I love dearly is too hurt to keep going, so I need to take his place.’ Now hurry, while there’s still time!”
“And I’m thinking, ‘I will never forgive myself if my wife that I love so much dies trying to save me!’ I can’t let you do this!”
Belle kept talking, hoping that he wouldn’t notice his wrists being tied together with his own reins, “Someone has to do this, and I refuse to let you get hurt again! You got very lucky last time, you could have died! I’m not giving you another opportunity to get yourself killed!”
“I can’t let you die either! It’s just – too many people have already died tonight. I don’t want you to be one of them,” Adam’s voice had softened, and Belle swore that it was on the verge of breaking.
“I don’t want you to be one of them either,” she replied reassuringly. She tightened the final knot, feeling guilty at the confused look on his face. “I’m sorry about this,” she added sadly, then before Adam could protest she snatched the riding crop from Joan’s saddle and hit her flank as hard as she dared. The roan mare took off towards where she thought safety was, blindly running with masked eyes while Adam grabbed the saddle with his bound wrists to stay on as she flew. She heard him yelling back, asking her what she was doing, but his voice quickly faded away as Joan kept galloping. He desperately used his bound wrists to yank at the reins to keep her on course, hoping she didn’t send them careening into the gorge.
Belle looked up at the Magonian, her brown eyes fixed into a defiant glare as it approached. The aerial menace hissed dangerously and started flying faster, aggression peaking as it stared down this latest threat. Belle grabbed Phillipe’s reins, kicked his sides, and turned towards the forest. Through the last of the fog, the draft horse raced across the valley quickly, crossing the tree line and making for the road. He ran like the devil was on his hooves.
Even in the dead of winter, the skeletal tree branches blocked out the light, and Belle felt like she was chasing shadows as she and Phillipe ran through the woods. The moon had started to set a while ago, and the pale distant stars offered little in the way of light to travel by. Reaching the road, the canopy overhead cleared up slightly, but not by much. The road was iced over, decomposing blood and mud caught in frozen stasis as the draft horse’s massive hooves pounded it. The ice was slick; one wrong step and Phillipe could twist his ankle and send Belle flying over his saddle. The sound of his hooves on the ice was the only thing either of them heard as they raced through the darkness and cold. That, and the sound of the Magonian in pursuit not far behind.
Belle noted that it was much less quiet in this form, as the curtain-like flesh created a whooshing sound in the air as it flew. It was also much slower; if it had been in its compact form it would have caught up with them by now. She had seized the advantage, and a spark of hope flared in her once more. Despite Phillipe’s labored breathing and the drumming of her own heartbeat in her ears, Belle allowed herself a small smile. They could do this. They had to do this, it was up to them. Even though she was afraid of the monster baring down on her at that exact moment, she knew that someway, somehow, everything was going to be okay.
The woods opened up before her as they entered the abandoned village. A layer of frost had coated the wrecked buildings; nature’s attempt at sugarcoating the absolute carnage this place had been subjugated to. Phillipe ran down the empty frozen street as Belle made their way to the main square. Just before they reached the fountain in the square’s center, she pulled hard on the reins. Phillipe tried to stop, but hadn’t accounted for the ice that coated the street and made it slick. He slid across the icy cobblestones, bracing his legs and locking them to stay upright. He felt himself spin out and thought he would crash, before coming to a stop just before the fountain.
Phillipe steadied himself as Belle hopped down and looked back in the direction they’d come from. She could hear the sound of trees branches cracking as the Magonian caught up, preparing to attack once again. She knew she’d only have a few minutes to get this right. Just off on the east side of the square was a section of four buildings. They were arranged in a square, and in the center of that square was a pile of thick, burlap-style cloth. Four parts of the cloth were tied to each of the buildings, keeping a good chunk of it suspended about four meters off the ground. Belle ran over to where most of the cloth rested on the ground, lifted it up, and opened her lantern. Finding a small piece of wood nearby, she used it to collect an even smaller flame from the lantern and set it against a basket that rested at the bottom of the cloth pile. It was tied to the rest of the contraption, ropes running up its sides to give it stability. It wasn’t a regular pile of cloth, you see, but more like a giant sack. As the basket caught on fire, the sack began in inflate and it slowly began to rise from the ground.
As it rose, Belle made sure the fuses near the basket were close enough to catch fire at the right time before going to the four ropes holding the sack up. She had to climb the sides of the buildings, gingerly watching her step so she didn’t fall, and untie the sack as it grew in size. Within a few minutes, it was ready. It was another one of Jeanne’s ideas; she’d called it a ‘hot air balloon’. The idea was, as the sack filled with hot air from a small flame, it would grow lighter than the air around it and it would float into the sky. All around it, eyes had been painted on it to entice the Magonian closer.
But this was no treat, no easy meal for that menace. Running up its sides were seams of fabric with gunpowder sewn into them. Twelve lines in total, they crisscrossed the balloon’s interior like a spider’s web and had fuses reaching down to the basket. For good measure, just below the flames, a chamber of gunpowder also sat, sealed away for the moment and ready to ignite when the time was right. If the fuses were brought just a little closer to the flames…
Belle knew it was a long shot. The Magonian was big, it was deadly, but it wasn’t stupid. It should be able to tell that this was a trap right away. Besides, would the balloon even be strong enough to lift such a payload off the ground to being with? She’d started to feel hopeful again, yes, but even she had doubts about this part of the plan. Would it work?
She felt herself breathe a sigh of relief as the Magonian ascended into the sky, its pursuit of its human prey abandoned as it eyed the much larger prize. It shot upwards into the dim heavens, the moon now setting beneath the western horizon and the first rays of sunlight reaching across the eastern sky. It disappeared into the cumulonimbus clouds drifting lazily across the sky, blocking out the rapidly fading stars as they heralded the storm that was on the way. Following the balloon that had vanished into the heavens just moments before, its pursuit was as relentless now as it was before.
Belle continued to watch the clouds after the Magonian departed, before turning away from the sky. She could hear the first rumblings of thunder, real thunder, approaching as the biggest storm of the year crept closer. Those first rays of the light of dawn were quickly being drowned out by the dark grey underbellies of the storm clouds. She could only hope that Adam had made it to the castle in time. She could only hope that everything would happen in time.
____________________________________________________________________________________
Adam had managed to wrestle his wrists free from the reins binding them, and used his good arm to steer away from the bridge. The fog was rapidly dissipating, letting him see across the valley a little more. He didn’t know whether to be angry with Belle, or to admire her courage. She was going to face off against that monster alone, with no idea if their backup plan would work. The chances of her succeeding or failing were about equal in that moment, but he sincerely hoped that it would be the former. If anything, he was most upset about the fact that she expected him to stay behind. They’d already been through so much together, experienced enough hardships to last a lifetime, and he was damned if he was going to let her face this one alone.
He was almost at the road to the village when he saw the balloon ascend above the tree line, followed by the Magonian hot on its heels. Adam hid cautiously within the trees; he didn’t know if it could tell he was looking at it from over here, but he wasn’t going to take the chance. The darkness of the night sky was starting to fade, as the first fingers of dawn light stretched from the east. It didn’t matter much though; he could hear the first rumblings of thunder and knew a storm was on the way. Already, dark grey thunderheads were forming above his head, including the one the balloon and Magonian had now vanished into.
Before he continued his pursuit, Adam looked at the spot Jeanne had disappeared from. He couldn’t see if she was still there, as the fog hadn’t cleared from that spot yet. He knew it was pointless; the chances of Jeanne having survived her close encounter were slim. He didn’t have time to check if she was still there, anyway. He kicked Joan’s sides, her blindfold already removed, and continued towards the village.
____________________________________________________________________________________
Jeanne’s eyes opened blearily, and she sat up in shock. She lay in the snow, flat on her back and with Faust lying not far away. As she sat up, she noticed her chest felt tight and she tried to breathe, but a searing pain made her back off. Jeanne tried to stop herself from freaking out, this must be normal, right? It should be, after all she was almost eaten alive.
She remembered sharply the sensation of the Magonian going in for the kill: its folds surrounding her, trapping her in its ivory flesh; the rapid decrease in air pressure as the vortex surrounded her; her ears popping; suddenly feeling very tired as all the oxygen was sucked away. Although that last one might have been from behind awake over eighteen hours, but she wasn’t sure. And the strongest memory she had of those final moments; the sound of something flying through the air, almost like the singing of a metal blade, before something hit her side hard and she’d blacked out.
Remembering that last bit, Jeanne looked down at her chest and tried to stop herself from gasping in horror. She failed, and another agonizing twitch of pain shot through her ribs. Buried up to the hilt in her side, between two of her thoracic ribs, was the dagger that Lefou had shown her earlier. Blood gushed from the stab wound, and the snow around her was stained a deep scarlet. The scarlet deepened to a dark maroon as her lifeblood continued to seep from her side. Jeanne heard a rattling sound as she tried to breathe, and realized that her lung had been punctured. Looking around, she saw that Lefou’s other effects were scattered around her: shoes, a belt, the smashed lantern, and the like.
She would die if she stayed here. She knew it. Jeanne reached for the dagger, her hand human once again, and gently tugged on it. It budged a little, but made the pain flare up again and she fell backwards in shock. She could feel tears of pain sting at her tired eyes, and knew she had to act fast. Jeanne reached for her mother’s bracelet, checking it was still there, before calling for Faust. The blue roan stallion stood shakily, gingerly plodding through the snow before lying on his belly next to Jeanne. She rolled onto his back, her right arm flung over his neck as she pulled herself into the saddle. Checking her saddlebag, Jeanne felt the coil of copper wire she’d kept for herself. She slumped forward, her hands gripping the saddle horn weakly as Faust stood up and headed towards the road.
Jeanne knew she couldn’t just up and leave, not after everything. Good thing she’d written a note. They made their way to the village just as the balloon and Magonian disappeared into the clouds.
____________________________________________________________________________________
It shrieked as its prey lurched closer, falling back with a hiss and a flare of its folds. It had never seen prey like this before, but food was food and it wasn’t going to let this meal get away. It had gone through the most vexing night of its life in a long time: not one, not two, not three, but FOUR potential meals had slipped away! It would have been a successful hunt for the last two if that thing hadn’t shown up once more.
had always been there, hunting it down and toying with it with all the cruelty that should be expected of a predator. It had almost gone for the kill when it had shown up unexpectedly, threatening to take away its most recent prize. It hadn’t been prepared when that thing had challenged it; it was so much smaller, how could it expect to win a fight with it?
It didn’t want to take the chance. Acting quickly, it had ejected the indigestible matter from its last meal and fled, deciding to pursue the much easier target running to hide in the woods. That is, that was going to be its next meal until this great prize showed up.
The prey didn’t back down. Both of them floated there, drifting in the cold winds foreshadowing the storm, before the Magonian rose higher, showing off its full height and flaring its tendrils before falling back. It positioned itself above the prey, and prepared for the final strike.
____________________________________________________________________________________
Belle’s eyes flickered between the sky and the road, looking for a sign, any sign, even if it was a bad one. She hated this: the not knowing, the waiting, the anticipation as the lives of everyone she cared about hung in the balance. There was no plan C, nothing else that could be done. Soon, it would all be over, and only one of them would still be standing.
____________________________________________________________________________________
Joan’s hooves pounded the road so hard that the ice coating it cracked, the sound echoing across the otherwise silent forest. Adam leaned forward, ignoring the stabs of pain he felt each time his broken arm was jolted. He needed to know that Belle was all right. If she hadn’t survived…
He didn’t think he could live in a world where she was gone.
____________________________________________________________________________________
Jeanne tried to keep her breathing under control as Faust trotted carefully yet steadily. It was going to take longer than it should have to get there, but she was worried about the bleeding. If she was jolted too much, it could speed up and she’d bleed out before she got there. Jeanne banished the thought from her mind. She was going to make it, she just had to convince herself of it.
She was almost there, just outside the village entrance, when she heard a loud thump and looked up. It wasn’t the thunder she’d been expecting, but something far more reassuring. Jeanne watched as the Magonian pounced on the balloon, folding itself back up as it sucked the contraption into its mouth. Having resumed its regular shape, the monster used its fold to pull the balloon inside. Jeanne watched with bated breath and waited…
____________________________________________________________________________________
The strange prey was big, much bigger than its usual prey. But that didn’t deter it. It swallowed, the muscles of its throat contracting as it pulled the prey up its digestive tract. After going without food for so long, it would take its time digesting this meal before going back for more. That thing was still down there, and it wouldn’t rest until this challenger was out of its territory for good.
Something was wrong. The prey had an unfamiliar smell, something hot. Something irritating. It was like that sensation it had felt while chasing the other, smaller prey. Burning, gritty, alien; it had stung almost as bad as that strike from the sky not long ago. But it was worse. It shifted the prey around its mouth as it swallowed the mass, trying to determine the source of the burning.
As it jostled the balloon around, the fuses touched the flames.
And then it knew. It knew what that feeling was.
FIRE.
The blaze raced across the balloon’s skin as the flames spread rapidly throughout the Magonian’s body. It burned, it burned worse than anything it had felt in its long life. The monster panicked as amber and scarlet flames shot up its digestive tract, incinerated its flesh, and spread quickly to engulf, burning it from the inside out. It moaned in confusion, fear, and pain as it tried to process what was happening. It could already feel its body start to fall apart into ash as its organs began collapsing.
Its internal eye watered as the flames reached for it, their scorching fingers flickering closer and closer. The fire, the fire, it burned, IT BURNED –
____________________________________________________________________________________
Belle had seen Adam emerge into the square and was about to call him when they heard a blast. Startled, both of them looked up just as the Magonian exploded. It lit up into a red and yellow fireball, its entire body alight as it fell to the Earth like a shooting star. The light was so brilliant that for several moments, it drowned out the light of the rapidly encroaching dawn. As it fell, it lit up the storm clouds it had fallen from and caused their underbellies to glow a smoldering crimson.
Belle worried that the fire wouldn’t go out when it hit the ground, and soon the forest would be up in a blaze. To her relief, the Magonian burned quickly, the flames fading as flesh was rapidly incinerated. Just before it hit the tops of the trees, the monster let out a final shriek as the last of its body burned away. Its remains were carried away on the stormy winter winds in a cloud of smoke and ash.
She turned away when she heard Adam scream her name, “BELLE!” as Joan galloped towards her, the mare sliding to a stop much like Phillipe had. He hopped off the saddle and ran over to Belle.
“Adam!” Belle exclaimed, “You shouldn’t be here, what about your arm?”
“I couldn’t just let you face that thing alone, what were you thinking?” Adam asked. “You could’ve died, and I couldn’t have done anything to save you!”
“You could’ve died too!” Belle countered. “You still could, if that break gets infected. You need a physician! I know I acted rashly, but…I couldn’t just let you die. I love you!”
“I love you too! Why do you think I was so upset! I couldn’t let you die either…Belle, I’d be lost without you. I need you with me,” Adam replied, his voice softening. He used his good arm to pull Belle into an embrace, holding her as tight as he could. All the fight had left him, and he simply felt drained. It was over. It was all over. They were safe.
“And I need you,” Belle affirmed, wrapping her arms around Adam and embracing him back. She buried her face into the crook of his neck and gripped him, tears of joy and relief stinging her eyes. There would be time later to fix his arm, to rebuild their home, to remember the dead. They were alive, they were together. In the end, that was all that mattered. They stayed that way for several minutes, holding each other as if they were going to be torn apart at any moment. The storm kept building overheard, but the echoes of thunder faded into the background as white noise. The golden light of dawn reached across the wrecked village, stretching and slowly enveloping the two lovers in the much-desired warmth of the sun. If they had their way, they would have remained in each other’s arms until the end of time.
The sound of hooves on ice alerted them to another’s arrival, and Adam and Belle reluctantly pulled themselves apart. Looking back, they were shocked to see Faust trot slowly into the square, Jeanne slumped over his saddle. She was human again, the skin on the tip of her nose starting to show signs of frostbite. She didn’t say anything as she approached, and they could see her weakly gripping the saddle’s horn. She was still alive, much to their joy, but at what cost?
“Jeanne!” Belle cried as the younger woman approached. She rushed to Faust’s side to help Jeanne down, but paused when she saw the latter’s ashen, pained face. Jeanne braced herself on Faust’s back, swung her far leg, and didn’t hop so much as fall off the saddle. Belle grabbed her before she could face-plant into the cobblestones, and Adam came up to help Jeanne stand. As his hand brushed her side, she gasped in pain. Concerned, he pulled back her cloak to reveal the dagger. Her blood had soaked her undershirt, and with the chilly wind she had started to shiver worse than before.
Belle gasped at the sight and asked, “What happened?”
“Lefou’s dagger…got lost in the pond…spat out to get away…” Jeanne answered, her voice faint. Her eyes were starting to cloud over and she struggled to stay on her feet.
“You need a physician even more than I do!” Adam exclaimed. “Come on, we need to hurry!”
“No time…” Jeanne weakly protested. “Damage…too great…don’t have much time, listen!”
“Jeanne, this isn’t up for discussion! We’re getting you to a doctor now!” Belle argued.
Jeanne’s hand reached out and gripped Belle’s arm, her fingers tightening to get her attention. Belle looked at her, and before she could protest Jeanne kept speaking. She mustered up what energy she had left and talked quickly, “I have to leave now. I’m dying…my injury, it’s too great for any doctor here, there’s not enough time. The doctors in my time, they can save me quickly, but only if I leave now.”
“But what about your bracelet?” Adam asked. “Isn’t it still broken?”
Jeanne held up her left arm, showing the bracelet and the copper coil winding around her wrist and hand. “It’s almost fixed, just needs a power source,” She pointed up at the sky. “I checked in one of the books I brought, and I found something. Over the next two days, you’re gonna have the biggest snowstorm of the century. The lightning should be strong enough to power the bracelet and send me back. If I want to get home, it’s now or never,” Jeanne pulled a note out of her pocket, and handed it to Belle. “Instructions. Follow them, and everything will be all right.”
“But everything is all right, almost everything,” Adam argued. “What more do we have to do?”
“Not you, me,” Jeanne explained. “I have to go back and set things right. But you have to let me go!”
Belle and Adam both looked reluctant to send her on her way, especially given the state she was in, but what choice did they have? Insist on finding a physician here, risking her bleeding out before they could treat her? Try and stop the bleeding, and have her miss her one window to get back home? As they thought about the alternatives they had, both of them realized that, for some reason or another, none of them were viable. If Jeanne wanted the best chance of survival, she had to return home now and hope the doctors there could save her.
“How will we know you made it?” Belle asked.
Jeanne was silent. “You won’t,” she quietly admitted. “You just have to believe that I made it. I’m sorry, but…until I can set things right, that’s all I can offer.” It wasn’t much, it wasn’t anything at all, but it was all she could give. A roar of thunder overhead, right above them, underlined the severity of the situation. “I have to go,” Jeanne panted, turning back to Faust to hop into the saddle. Before she did, she smiled softly and embraced Adam and Belle. “Thanks for everything,” she whispered, her voice hoarse yet filled with love. “I’ll never forget you.”
She felt Adam and Belle pull her closer, even more reluctant than before to let her go, before releasing her. Jeanne gingerly pulled herself into Faust’s saddle, gratefully accepting Adam’s help getting back on. Clicking her tongue, she directed her horse towards the far side of the village, and kicked his sides. He began trotting at a brisk pace as the lightning overheard started arching closer and closer to the ground. When Jeanne reached the edge of the village and was on the open road, she looked back and lifted a hand in farewell. Adam and Belle waved back, unsure if this would be the last time they saw her alive.
Not even Jeanne herself could answer that question. Double-checking that she had the date she wanted on the bracelet, she stopped Faust for a moment. She unspooled the end of the copper wire, winding it around the dagger in her ribs. She hadn’t planed on doing this, but if the opportunity presented itself…Jeanne grit her teeth as she tied the wire firmly around the blade, just above the hilt. The cold wire resting against her skin stung. She grasped the dagger with both hands, took a deep breath, and yanked as hard as she could.
Without the blade holding it in, a rush of blood gushed from her ribs, and Jeanne almost collapsed from the sudden blood loss. Somehow, she remained upright. Whether or not it was a lingering fear of death or sheer resolve, she didn’t know. Gripping the dagger in her left hand, she thrust it towards the stormy clouds, her blood dripping down the blade and leaving scarlet streaks on her hand. With her other hand, Jeanne grabbed the horn of Faust’s saddle and kicked him as hard as she could.
He took off down the open road, his rider’s blood leaving maroon drops on the ice behind them. Several strikes of lightning arched towards them, dodging at the last second. Jeanne hoped this would work; she was far from the tallest thing around here, but the metal of the dagger and wire should have been attractive enough. She counted down the second between strikes, the gap getting smaller and smaller each time: Three seconds. Two seconds. One second…
There was a flash and the world lit up around her and Faust. She felt a searing pain in her arm just like last time, and then her vision faded to black.
____________________________________________________________________________________
Adam and Belle watched in trepidation as Jeanne and Faust were struck. One moment they were there, riding off into the sunrise, the next they were gone. They might as well have been a couple of ghosts; the last traces of a nightmare fading in the morning light.
Belle looked at the note in her hand. Unfolding it, she read it out loud while Adam looked over her shoulder at the words. It was simple, straightforward, and to the point. Most of it was clinical; Jeanne was right when she said they were instructions. The last line struck a chord within both royals, however. It wasn’t a ‘goodbye’, not in the typical sense, but it was a stark reminder of who they’d come to love…
Burn anything I’ve left behind.
Write down everything that happened. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last. We need to be prepared.
Tell Fife I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye.
…and then lost.
Thank you for being my family.
Chapter 6: Epilogue: Fife
Notes:
There's a lot of fluff in this chapter, just as a heads-up...did I mention that this is a Christmas story?
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
June 10th, 2042
The stinging stench of antiseptic assaulted Jeanne’s nostrils as she slowly came to. Her eyes hurt too much to open them just yet; she took in her surroundings sightlessly as she laid prone on the bed. There was a constant beeping sound, from what she could guess it was a heart monitor, and the sound of muttering somewhere distant as multiple voices conversed in hushed tones. Jeanne felt something wound around her head and enter her nostrils, and her nose felt itchy in response to the canula. Feeling something constricting her left forearm, she finally opened her eyes and looked around.
She was in a hospital. A thick pad of gauze and tape was wound around her left forearm, and she could see the faint telltale red splotches of blood soaking the pad. Someone would be in to change it soon, hopefully. Jeanne was wearing one of those cheap hospital gowns they give patients when doctors need quick access to their body. The kind that had ties on the side instead of seams, and hers had a cheery flower pattern for a print. Her side was sore, and looking down Jeanne saw an even thicker patch of gauze over the spot where Lefou’s dagger had stabbed her. Reaching with her right hand, she saw that an IV line had been inserted into the top of her hand. It was continuously pumping some sort of clear liquid into her vein. Looking at her other hand revealed a second IV line, this one pumping fresh blood into her body.
Jeanne sat up, ignoring the dull ache in her side and the throbbing in her head. There was no sign of her bracelet, or her clothes, and she certainly didn’t know where Faust was. Hearing voices just outside her closed door, she leaned carefully forward to listen in:
“…can’t just discharge her. Do we know if she had family nearby, someone that can look after her?”
“Not that I’m aware, nurse. She was brought in as a Jane Doe; no ID, no effects, nothing but the clothes on her back and that dagger she was holding.”
“Do you think she was involved in a murder or something?”
“We’re not here to speculate nurse, need I remind you of that?”
“Sorry doctor, it’s just…it’s all so strange, isn’t it?”
“Besides her being a Jane Doe?”
“Yes, I mean…I heard the police found her passed out on a horse. What do you think that’s about?”
“It’s not our job to know, it’s our job to heal.”
Jeanne was puzzled by their words. A Jane Doe? Why didn’t anyone recognize her when they brought her in? As the crown princess of France, surely her face would have been plenty recognizable to the ER staff. Assuming she was still in France, that is. It was a safe bet; nothing about the bracelet’s function had indicated that it could displace someone across space as well as time. She continued eavesdropping on the doctor and nurse:
“Didn’t the dagger get sent off to a forensics lab?”
“It did. All the blood on it came from her. That, and…”
“And what, doctor?”
“I didn’t believe the forensic analyst when she told me what else she found. I swore she misspoke the first time, but she said she found stomach acid on the dagger.”
“Stomach acid?”
“Oui. They didn’t find any on the copper wires that were on the dagger, nor on the bracelet that was connected to the other end, which makes it even stranger.”
“What about the horse? I heard animal control took him in.”
“That’s right. Took three men to subdue him, but he’s been impounded until further notice.”
Faust! Jeanne hoped he was all right. Their ordeal had already been harrowing enough; he didn’t deserve to be jailed after everything. She would have to heal quickly to get out of here and go get him.
“But do you want to know the strangest thing, nurse?”
“What’s that, doctor?”
“I swear, she looks exactly like Princess Guillemette! But that can’t be right, she hasn’t left the palace in months!”
“Probably another one of her episodes, to be sure. Why couldn’t her brother be the future ruler instead? Prince Antoine seems far more stable!”
Jeanne was pissed at the insult but let it slide. She was more interested that they were using present-tense to refer to her brother. He was dead, wasn’t he? And the palace wasn’t standing any more! And shouldn’t she be considered missing? What was going on?
“Anyway, she’s set to be discharged on the 18th, so we’re stuck with the Jane Doe for a while.”
“Hopefully she feels better soon! And sorts out…whatever happened to land her in a place like this!”
The 18th? But it was the 21st when she left! Was it already January? How long had she’d been out? Questions swarmed around Jeanne’s mind, too fast for someone still waking up. Looking around, Jeanne tried to find any clues on when she’d been sent back.
Spotting a calendar on the wall, she looked carefully at the date. Her breath caught in her throat as she read "June 2042" at the top of the month.
That was about a month before the attacks started. Which meant she was one step ahead. And it also meant something even more important: her family was still alive. They were alive!
She had a second chance to save them!
Jeanne fell back onto the bed, tears of gratitude stinging her eyes and a smile on her face, as the door slid open to let the doctor and nurse in. She felt her body relax as all the tension was released. Jeanne allowed herself to drift back to sleep as the medical personnel kept chatting, getting the best sleep she’d had in a long time.
She would need it. She had work to do.
____________________________________________________________________________________
December 24th, 2042
Jeanne spun around on the ballroom floor, laughing merrily as she let go of her current partner’s hand and fell into a new one’s arms. Her face was flushed red from both dancing for over an hour and the two glasses of wine she’d already indulged in, but she didn’t feel overwhelmed at all. The orchestra was playing a jaunty rendition of ‘Deck the Halls’, and her feet moved in time to the enthusiastic violin playing. Jeanne’s hair was already starting to fall out of the jeweled pins she’d put in place, but she was having too much fun to care.
This was the Christmas she’d always wanted. This was the Christmas she deserved, anyway, after all she did over the past six months. It had felt surreal, knowing that her counterpart was at the palace while she was in a hospital. No name, no identity, nothing. Which gave her the advantage she’d so desperately needed.
After being discharged and retrieving her things and Faust, Jeanne had gotten to work. Based on her reports, she knew which town would be the first to be attacked by the Magonian. It had been much more difficult this time around, having to go toe-to-toe with it on her own, but she’d never been the type to back down from a challenge.
In the end, it had been simpler than she’d thought: trick the Magonian into swallowing a bunch of gasoline, have it eat a dummy she’d rigged up with explosives, and watch the fireworks as it exploded high up in the sky. All before it had a chance to eat any real humans. The newspapers the next day varied wildly on what actually happened: some say there was a mid-flight fueling accident with a military plane, others said it was a missile test that backfired, a few came close to the truth about it being a UFO, but they were dismissed. Jeanne didn’t care; it was dead and gone for good, and her family and country were saved.
Lying low for the next six months had been the hard part. Jeanne knew she couldn’t just go back to the palace and demand to be let in; she was technically already there! Besides, she didn’t want to risk creating any time paradoxes or such if her counterpart saw her. She’d seen enough movies about time travel to know that it never ended well, usually.
So she did something she thought she’d never have to do: get a job. A fake name, a few faked papers, and she was working as a bartender in the coastal town of Collioure. Beautiful place in her opinion; colorful homes, the beautiful turquoise waters of the Mediterranean, great wine, and tons of old places to explore. A little bit touristy, but quiet enough that no one would figure out her real identity.
Jeanne would have stayed forever if she could, but she knew her place wasn’t there. In late November, she’d quit her job and quietly returned home.
It had felt surreal, seeing her counterpart for the first and only time. She’d symbolized a timeline that no longer existed; her counterpart symbolized a timeline both of them were trapped in. Only one of them was ultimately allowed to exist though, and neither Jeanne was sure how to handle it.
As it turned out, neither of them had to make that choice. The Jeanne from the previous timeline had watched in sadness as her counterpart slowly faded away, disappearing like a mirage in the early morning sun. Jeanne regretted, in a way, that the other Jeanne couldn’t exist as well; this was the only timeline her counterpart had ever known, and now she wasn’t simply dead, but gone. How did that feel, ceasing to exist instead of just dying?
Not that the present Jeanne was unhappy to be the one allowed to stay. She caught her brother’s eye from across the room and exchanged a grin with him. Ever since she’d gotten back earlier this month she’d worked hard to repair her relationship with both her siblings. Stepping back from her royal duties. Reading a book together with Juliette so they could talk about it. Trying out one of Antoine’s sports with him. Jeanne didn’t end up taking to cricket so easily, but she could tell he appreciated the effort. It was a bit odd, knowing that the Jeanne they’d known for the last six months didn’t exist and this was someone else. Current Jeanne dismissed it though; the timelines had only diverged about six months ago, so she was the same person for the most part. Besides, she was just happy to have her family back.
She’d already lost her brother and sister once, she would never let that happen ever again.
“Jeanne!” She heard her little sister calling her name, and Jeanne spun around to meet Juliette’s existed gaze.
“What is it, Julie?” Jeanne asked.
“Papa’s making his big announcement in a few minutes, we should go, come on!” she said quickly. Grabbing Jeanne’s hand, she pulled her away towards the stage that was already set up. Throwing a quick apology to her dance partner over her shoulder, Jeanne stumbled and laughed as she tried to keep up with her enthusiastic little sister.
King Petr was already at the podium, testing out the microphone and making sure it was on. Noticing that the king was there, the crowd slowly fell silent until a gentle hush had settled over the ballroom.
“Welcome, everyone, and Merry Christmas!” King Petr began. “I hope you all are having a good time. As you know, we aren’t here today just to celebrate the holiday, but also because I have an announcement to make. I am stepping down from the throne!”
Several gasps shot their way through the crowd, but the king had anticipated the shock.
“Settle down, settle down, there’s more. I have decided to retire so I can focus more on my family. While I have given you my best as your king, I have not given it my best as a father to my children. They’re the only family I have left, and…it has taken me a long time to realize this, but you have to cherish and treasure the people you love while they’re still here. There are no second chances, and once they’re gone, there’s no getting them back.”
Jeanne suppressed a knowing look and kept listening.
“My decision means that my successor will have to step up and take the throne in my place. I firmly believe that she is more than ready to do so.” King Petr looked down into the audience and found Jeanne’s gaze. “Guillemette, my light, will you come up here please?” he asked softly.
Jeanne’s breath hitched in her throat as she stepped up to the stage and walked across it. She hoped she wouldn’t trip and fall over her heels; being as tipsy as she was, she’d already done that once tonight. Thankfully, she made her way to the stage without incident, and stepped up to the podium.
“My daughter, Princess Guillemette, will be crowned your new queen this spring when I officially step down. She is strong, compassionate, intelligent, and has spent her entire life prepared to take the throne one day. I have every faith that she will be the queen this country needs.” Jeanne’s father looked at her. “Do you have anything you would like to say?”
Jeanne nodded slowly and took the king’s place at the microphone. She looked over the crowd nervously. She hated having all these eyes on her, all those knowing looks. She knew she looked a mess at least, and most people knew she could act like a mess at times. She could spot at least three different people looking upon her in judgement, their scornful eyes bearing into her soul and seeing her shortcomings. Jeanne felt herself shrink in. She wasn’t prepared for this, how on earth would she be expected to do this?
“You’ve got this sis!”
Turning to the crowd, she saw Antoine giving her two thumbs up and smiling in encouragement. Juliette stood next to him, cheering and shouting, “You can do it Jeanne!”
Jeanne smiled gratefully and turned to the crowd with confidence now. Who cares what a few judgmental people thought? The people whose opinions mattered the most thought she was ready, and that was all that mattered.
“Hello everyone,” Jeanne began. “Thank you all for coming. I know that my history makes some of you weary of me being your future queen, and I understand and respect your concerns. But, if there’s anything I can say to ease your doubts, I hope it’s this: I love and cherish each and every one of you. Nothing matters more to me than protecting my people and guiding our country into a bright future. My family has ruled this land for over a thousand years, and I hope to follow in their footsteps as a great ruler in my own right. I may not be the queen you expected, or even wanted, but I hope I can be the queen you deserve. Thank you.”
The crowd was silent for a moment, and Jeanne briefly wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. Then someone started applauding. Then someone else joined in. Then another. And another. Slowly, like a roll of thunder in a storm, it kept building until the entire crowd was roaring with applause, their cheers loud and encouraging. Jeanne’s grin nearly split her face as she looked out over the ballroom with tears of gratitude in her eyes.
Maybe her people could grow to love her after all.
____________________________________________________________________________________
That was two hours ago. Jeanne had spent that time fielding congratulations from various people, including several dignitaries. It was long and tedious, but Jeanne knew how to handle herself with grace and decorum.
She was now a little ways off, letting everyone else continue to enjoy the party. Jeanne had slipped away for a while, but hopefully no one would even notice that she’d left. It certainly wouldn’t seem like she was gone for long, anyway. Letting herself into a quiet little room, Jeanne picked up her mother’s bracelet. During the six months she’d spent in Collioure, she’d also worked on modifying the late queen’s bracelet, making it safer to use.
Now, it looked more like a gauntlet than a bracelet. It had a very powerful battery pack attached to it; she wasn’t exactly sure what sort of fuel it used, but it should work. It was connected to the main bracelet using a harness, which encapsuled her scarred forearm from the elbow to the wrist. Now, it was time for a test run. Jeanne flipped the date to ‘December 24th, 1742’, pressed a button, and vanished in a flash of light.
There was one more thing she still had to do.
____________________________________________________________________________________
December 24th, 1742
They didn’t have a lot of time to get the castle ready for Christmas, but they’d done their best. In the two days since the Magonian’s defeat, they’d hung tinsel and holly, gotten the best Christmas tree they could find in the woods, and prepared the greatest feast anyone had seen in a long time. Despite the rather bittersweet atmosphere that hung over the holidays this year, everyone worked to make sure it was a cheery holiday at least.
It was bittersweet mainly because half the villagers were dead. Some of the survivors had family members that were among the deceased, and this Christmas was a painful reminder that their loved ones would never experience Christmas ever again. But at the same time, it was a strong reminder for everyone there to cherish the people that were still around. You never know when their time will be up, and you should make every moment last. This Christmas, then, was not only focused on loving the people that were still here, but remembering the people that had passed on.
All in all though, everyone was happy to have something to look forward to. Given how horrible the events of the last month were. Lumière and Cogsworth were discussing this very idea as they gathered around the fire: “It’s truly wonderful that we were able to have a real Christmas this year,” Lumière said. “I didn’t think it was going to happen!”
“Neither did I, old friend,” Cogsworth agreed with a sigh as he swirled a glass of spiced wine, “At least after all the hardships we’ve had to endure over the past ten years, we finally can have a real Christmas!”
“It’s quite unfortunate about all these people though,” Mrs. Potts chimed in, “The poor dears having lost their loved ones, and they won’t have any place to go once the holidays are over!”
“Au contraire, Mrs. Potts,” Lumière explained. “I hear the master is allowing them to stay until spring, when they can start rebuilding the village!”
“Really?” Cogsworth exclaimed, “I guess the master really has turned over a new leaf!”
“I guess so,” Mrs. Potts laughed as she poured herself a cup of tea. “I suppose if we have anyone to thank for that, it’s Belle!”
“We certainly do!” Lumière added. “While we are on the subject though, how do you suppose they are doing? They did not take Mademoiselle Jeanne’s sudden departure very well.”
Shortly after Jeanne’s abrupt goodbye, Adam and Belle had revealed to the rest of the castle the truth about her identity. That she was from the future, that she was their distant descendent, that she was so determined to fight the Magonian because it had killed her family in her time, everything. Even the fact that she sometimes turned into the Beast. There was no hiding that from them, anyways; almost everyone had seen her transformation the last time she faced down the Magonian. It took some reassuring that it didn’t mean the enchantment wasn’t broken, just…changed, a little.
“Frankly, I’m still shocked that none of us figured out the truth sooner!” Cogsworth noted. “Granted, Jeanne was rather convincing as Belle’s cousin, but then again Belle never mentioned having any cousins in the first place!”
“To be fair, my dear fellow,” Lumière added, pouring himself a glass of wine, “Miss Jeanne looked far more like Belle than the master, except for the eyes of course. Who would have figured out the truth without her telling them?”
“I believe Belle would have,” Mrs. Potts. “Smart as a whip, that one!”
“True, very true,” Lumière mused.
“What do you suppose happened to her?” Cogsworth asked.
“Belle?”
“No, Jeanne. Do you think she’s still alive?”
The conversation fell off at the question. None of them had seen Jeanne after she’d confronted the Magonian, and with the pool of blood they’d found in the snow afterwards they’d assumed the monster had killed her. To their relief, Adam and Belle told them they saw her travel back to her own time, fatally injured but still alive at the moment. Which, in a way, made things even worse. It left Jeanne’s fate as nothing more but a question mark. Was she still alive? Had she succeeded at saving her family? Or had she bled to death before she had the chance?
“I don’t know, mon ami,” Lumière replied in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. “I hope she is, if for no one’s sake than the master and Belle’s,”
“Or Fife’s,” Mrs. Potts added. “Have you seen the lad? Poor dear’s barely left the music room since that night!”
“If he’s not careful he’ll wind up like Forte!” Cogsworth laughed.
“I’m serious!” Mrs. Potts insisted. “I’m quite worried about him, he took Jeanne’s leaving especially hard. And he’s debuting his first composition tonight!”
“How odd,” Lumière mused. “You don’t think the boy’s grown feelings for her, do you?”
While the three servants were discussing all this, Adam and Belle were in another section of the castle. The two of them were in a quiet little room by themselves, preparing to head down to the ballroom. While they were both excited for the party, they also couldn’t help but feel a little sad. They didn’t know if Jeanne had survived the trip back to her time, but the odds hadn’t been good.
On the dresser by the window was the book On Hail and Thunder. Belle walked over to it and flicked one of the pages sadly. In the columns she could see some of Jeanne’s notes, her neat and tiny handwriting legible even by thin candlelight. Belle didn’t think she’d be able to read this book ever again and not think of Jeanne. Despite the fact that many generations separated the two women, Belle had grown to love Jeanne like a daughter. It was true, technically; a seven-times great-granddaughter counted, didn’t it? And it was odd; technically there had only been a two-year age difference between them at the time. And yet the familial love Belle felt for Jeanne was real. But the odds of her still even being alive were slim.
And even though it was Christmas and they had won, it didn’t feel like a victory to Belle.
Fortunately, she wasn’t alone in her thoughts. Adam, his broken arm in a sling, walked over to where Belle was and saw what she was looking at. Seeing the book, Adam smiled sadly and said, “I miss her too, Belle. It’s a shame we can’t find her and see if she’s okay. All we can do is hope she made it.” Adam was a bit more reserved when describing how he’d felt about Jeanne, but it didn’t invalidate his feelings at all. Even though he’d gotten off to a rocky start with his descendent, he had found himself growing close to her against his better judgement. He missed the banter he’d shared with her, the quick exchanges, the wisecracking. But more than anything, her big heart and devotion to her people had won him over in the end. If – no, when, - he and Belle had children, he hoped at least one of them would be like Jeanne.
A flash of light from the other end of the room startled them. Adam and Belle jumped and whirled around, preparing to face the intruder. When they saw who it was, their hearts stopped.
Jeanne stood there, smoke billowing from her arm, and she coughed and held on to a nearby table. “Remind me not to do that again if I’ve been drinking,” she muttered, steadying herself.
“JEANNE!” Belle shouted, rushing across the room and grabbing the other woman in a tight hug. Jeanne wasn’t prepared for the action and stood there startled for a moment, but ended up embracing Belle back quickly. Tears of joy stung both their eyes as Belle spoke: “You’re okay. You made it!”
“I did, didn’t I?” Jeanne replied. “I’m just as surprised as you are!”
Adam stepped up to Jeanne then. Belle let go, and both future rulers eyed each other wearily. To Jeanne’s surprise, she thought she saw tears in Adam’s eyes, and she worried about how he’d react. The hesitation only lasted a minute, and Adam quickly pulled Jeanne into a warm embrace of his own. “It’s good to see you, Jeanne,” he whispered, his voice laced with pure happiness.
“Oh you haven’t seen the last of me yet, old man,” Jeanne teased.
“Old man?” Adam replied sarcastically as he drew back. “I’m only a couple of years older than you, young lady!”
“Tell that to my brother!” Jeanne sassed back.
“Your family! Did you save them?” Belle exclaimed, anxious to hear the answer.
“I did!” Jeanne confirmed. “I have so much to tell you both!”
“Why don’t you join us for the ball, and you can tell us later? Unless you need to be somewhere, that is.” Belle sincerely hoped she didn’t.
“I think I’ve got time,” Jeanne replied with a laugh. “Let’s party!”
____________________________________________________________________________________
Fife checked and re-checked his composition notes for the fifth time that night, making sure that the sheets were in the correct order. He knew, rationally speaking, that they already were in order, but it couldn’t hurt to check. Besides, he needed the distraction.
Why did Jeanne leave without saying goodbye? He couldn’t wrap his head around it. As far as he thought, he didn’t see a reason for her to do that. Jeanne could have come back to the castle first before leaving, should have come back first if she was as injured as he’d thought. It didn’t make sense. And what about hiding the fact that she was from the future? On some level, he understood that last one; it stretched the point of believability, even beyond his standards. When the rest of the castle was told about Jeanne’s true identity, he’d been just as shocked as the rest of them. Still, it hurt, knowing that she hadn’t been entirely honest about who she was.
Fife looked out at the court orchestra, making sure all the musicians were in place. It was supposed to be a great night for him, he was debuting his first composition! But sadly, his heart just wasn’t into it. Knowing that Jeanne was dead more likely than not had put a damper on his spirits. He regretted not telling her how he felt when he had the chance. He knew he should forget about her, Lord knows he was never going to see her again. But rational thoughts like that didn’t stop him from hoping. If he had just one wish for Christmas that year, it was to see Jeanne just one last time -
The big doors at the end of the ballroom slowly opened, and Adam and Belle stepped out looking positively regal. Fife straightened to attention; this was it, he was on! To his surprise, the royals stopped in the center of the ballroom.
“Welcome everyone, and Merry Christmas!” Adam began, waving to the gathered crowd. There was a cheer, and several people replied, “Merry Christmas!” right back. “We’d like to thank you all for coming, and celebrating the holiday in our fair home! We hope you all are having a good time!”
“It’s truly wondering seeing so many familiar faces here!” Belle said. “After the month we’ve had, I think Adam and I speak for everyone here when we say that all of us needed this. If anything good has come out of this tragedy, it’s that all of us were able to come together, put aside our differences, and become a real community,” Belle’s smile suddenly turned strange as she added, “We also have an announcement. A special guest has joined us from far away, and is very excited to be here tonight.”
There were murmurs in the crowd, wondering who this guest could be. Fife, curious, took a couple steps forward to see for himself who it was.
Adam turned back to the hallway he and Belle had emerged from and spoke to someone hidden: “You can come out now!”
Fife’s eyes grew wide and his heart stopped when he saw who it was. He wasn’t the only one with such a reaction, he heard gasps from within the crowd as a familiar young woman stepped into the ballroom. She wore a dark green dress made of velvet and silk, her bare shoulders covered by a white coat. Her dark brown hair was curled and pinned up, though he saw a few loose strands already starting to fall out. Her sapphire blue eyes were lit with a reserved joy. She raised her hand shyly and said, “Hi everyone, sorry I ran a little late,” she said with a laugh.
Then her bright blue eyes landed on him. She gasped, and with a soft smile asked, “Fife?”
He felt himself taking another step forward. Then another. And another. Before he knew it, he was running to meet the young woman that was running to meet him. He didn’t care how foolish he looked right now; she was alive, she was alive!
“JEANNE!” Fife shouted.
“FIFE!” Jeanne yelled.
The two of them met halfway and practically threw themselves into each other’s arms. They spun around, not caring that the entire ballroom was looking at them now. Before Fife could say anything, Jeanne suddenly lunged up and planted her lips on his.
Fife was caught off guard, but felt himself deepen the kiss. He pulled Jeanne closer, wrapping his arms around her shoulders firmly. Jeanne giggled, and he felt her laughter as much as he heard it. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and deepened the kiss along with Fife. Neither of them cared that they were making out right there, in front of the prince, the princess, God and everybody.
Fife had gotten his wish.
The two of them reluctantly pulled apart when they heard Adam clearing his throat. Blushing, Jeanne and Fife turned to look at him and Belle, the latter of whom was giving them a knowing look.
“I believe we also came here to hear a certain composer’s first composition!” Adam said with a laugh. He looked at Fife and added, “Will you do the honors, old friend?”
“I’d be delighted!” Fife replied.
After the concerto (which was met with much applause!) Fife and Jeanne talked animatedly with each other; on Jeanne’s end at least, they had six months’ worth of catching up to do! Adam and Forte were watching from a distance, the former feeling much more at ease in the latter’s company than he would have been six months ago. Everything was in the past, and Adam was glad to finally have his friend back.
“I give it three months before they break it off,” Forte commented.
“Why so pessimistic? Granted, I think it might burn out after a while, but why only give them three months?” Adam questioned.
“Master, don’t you think it’s a little…odd? I mean, she’s from the future, it’s not like she can stay here with him.”
“Maybe he’ll decide to go back to the future with her one day?” Belle posited, joining the two men in their discussion.
“True, very true. But there’s also the fact that she’s your descendent? You don’t find it strange at all?”
“If she were say, our granddaughter, I’d find it a little weird I admit,” Adam conceded. “But technically, she’s our great-great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter.”
“There’s another great, Adam.” Belle added lightheartedly.
“There’s another great!” He corrected.
“Besides, they don’t have to make any big decisions right now,” she stated, watching with fond remembrance as Jeanne and Fife held hands. “Something tells me those two have all the time in the world.”
FIN
Notes:
Thanks for reading! Glad you guys liked this strange little fic of mine :)
Kaz3313 on Chapter 1 Tue 07 Mar 2023 03:50PM UTC
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LastStarontheLeft1969 on Chapter 1 Wed 08 Mar 2023 07:07PM UTC
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nainabanaina on Chapter 1 Thu 09 Mar 2023 10:36AM UTC
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SheepDotGov on Chapter 1 Mon 10 Jun 2024 11:20PM UTC
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SheepDotGov on Chapter 1 Mon 10 Jun 2024 11:53PM UTC
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Googleman (Guest) on Chapter 1 Wed 17 Jul 2024 04:47AM UTC
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LastStarontheLeft1969 on Chapter 2 Thu 09 Mar 2023 11:39PM UTC
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Googleman (Guest) on Chapter 2 Wed 17 Jul 2024 02:33PM UTC
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LastStarontheLeft1969 on Chapter 4 Sat 11 Mar 2023 09:49PM UTC
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LastStarontheLeft1969 on Chapter 5 Mon 13 Mar 2023 11:16PM UTC
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Googleman (Guest) on Chapter 6 Thu 14 Aug 2025 05:32AM UTC
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