𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 could feel his heart pounding in his chest. However, none of the household servants seemed to notice at first as they gathered around, trying to make the final preparations of the evening... well that is all of them aside from Mrs. Potts.

The teapot hopped closer and looked up toward the master expectantly. "What seems to be on your mind?"

He hesitantly opened his mouth to reply, but it was at that moment that Lumiere burst into the room. "Tonight is the night!"

The beast quickly turned and began to exit the room. "I'm not sure I can do this."

Mrs. Potts and Lumiere glanced toward one another before quickly rushing after the beast. Lumiere called after him, "Master, wait. You don't have time to be timid! You must be bold, daring."

The beast paused. He had yet to turn around, but with a sigh, he straightened and ran his hands through his mane of hair. He offered an affirmative nod before repeating Lumiere's words more for himself than anyone else. "Bold. Daring!"

Without leaving room to think, Lumiere and Mrs. Potts guided him back into the other room where the drawn bath waited. The beast climbed into the tub, but as a few of the other servants began to help him freshen up, his worrisome thoughts returned.

Mrs. Potts hopped closer and again tried to help ease his concerns. "What's on your mind, dear?"

The beast sighed. "When I saw her in the library, looking so glum, I thought perhaps dinner would lighten the mood. I never imagined she'd actually say yes, much less suggest a dance. What was I thinking?"

Lumiere quickly jumped into the conversation, "No, Master. It's perfect. The rose has only four petals left which means tonight... you can tell her how you feel."

"I feel like a fool," the beast muttered. "She will never love me."

"Do not be discouraged," Lumiere replied. However, as the beast exited the tub and shook himself dry, he drenched the candelabra in the process. Lumiere spat the mouthful of water onto the ground before continuing the previous conversation, "She is the one."

"I wish you'd stop saying that!" The beast snapped, but sighed as he took a seat at his vanity. "There is no 'one'."

"You care for her, don't you?" Lumiere asked, desperation creeping into his voice.

The beast directed his eyes toward the ground before looking back into the mirror. He couldn't lie to himself anymore. Ever since she'd first stormed his castle, she'd invaded his dreams and haunted his every waking moment. She had a deceptively fiery spirit hidden beneath her calm disposition and her eyes... There was so much depth and intelligence that lie beneath the forest of her eyes. At times she frustrated him more than anything else in the world, but he couldn't imagine life without her now.

"More than anything."

"Well, then, woo her with beautiful music and romantic candlelight," Lumiere exclaimed with exasperation. "Yes, and when the moment's just right..."

Lumiere trailed off as Plumette entered the room. As if to visually explain his implication, the candelabra swept the feather duster off her feet and carefully swung her around. The feather duster giggled and certainly would have blushed if possible.

The beast averted his eyes, not out of embarrassment, but fear that when the moment came he'd make the wrong decision. "Well, how will I know?"

"You will feel slightly nauseous," Lumiere replied without hesitation. However, he quickly corrected himself as he noticed the anxious look on the beast's face. "Don't worry, Master. You'll do fine."

"Just stop being so nervous and tell Celine how you feel," Mrs. Potts rejoined the conversation. "Because if you don't... I promise you'll be drinking cold tea for the rest of your days!"

"In the dark," Lumiere added.

"Covered in dust," Plumette piped in.

"Dark and very, very dusty," Lumiere repeated for emphasis.

Whatever anxieties and concerns the beast had multiplied tenfold. His blank stare into the mirror was interrupted by the ding of a bell that symbolized the start of the servant's work.

"Start with the hair," Lumiere exclaimed, "Women love nice hair!"

"I'll take the fingers and toes," Mrs. Potts volunteered. "Chapeau, brush those teeth."

"They need it," Lumíere quickly agreed before guiding the staff through the routine of preparation. "Dip, dip. Snip, snip. Polish the nails. Shine the horns."

"Eyes closed," Plumette warned as she dabbed makeup onto the beast's face, "Poof, poof."

"And to top it all off..." Lumiere motioned for Chapeau to grab the wig from the nearby stand. The white powdered wig was placed on the beast's head and the staff took a step back to admire their work. "Voilà!"

The beast puffed out his chest and offered his best smile. However, the entire staff grimaced at the image of their master. It seemed that they'd forgotten the beast no longer had the same physique as the prince and therefore couldn't be groomed as he once was.

Lumiere sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay, I can fix this."

The beast deflated at the sight of his own reflection and sighed despairingly. "This is stupid."

"Non, Master," Lumiere tried to provide encouragement. "Perhaps we go with a more natural look."

With the new suggestion, Chapeau removed the wig and the staff returned once more to their preparations. Less than a few minutes later, Cogsworth entered the room and cleared his throat. "Ahem ahem ahem. Your lady awaits."

———— 𖥸 ————

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 caught in his chest as his eyes met hers from across the stairwell. She was breathtaking. Madame de Garderobe had selected an off-white, feathered dress that accentuated her delicate curves. The bodice of the gown was an ornate gold that shimmered in the candlelit room. A gold ribbon that matched the trim and small accessories of the gown held back her hair in a loose bun.

She seemed to notice his awestruck stare and averted her eyes toward the ground as her face lit up with a warm blush. Like a swan gliding across a lake, she descended the stairs to meet him in the center. Her green eyes shone as they looked up to meet his sapphire. Gently, he extended his arm and she accepted. Arm in arm, they descended the last section of the stairs and proceeded toward the dining hall.

As Celine had first laid eyes on him, she'd been reminded of the small child adorned with a lion mask at the masquerade ball. There were certainly other parallels, specifically the gown she herself wore that was almost too similar to be coincidence. However, she was determined to enjoy the evening without the distractions of everything she'd learned as of late.

She smiled as he pulled her seat out for her before making his way to sit at the other end of the table. However, before he actually took a seat, he froze. It seemed that he too remembered their first dinner together and ultimately decided that he didn't wish to repeat history. He lifted his bowl and moved back to the seat beside her.

Lumiere's rule of dinner and a show hadn't changed though. He lifted his arms into the air as if a conductor then led the staff of musical instruments to the tune of a melody that set the mood for the evening.

"Tale as old as time," Mrs. Potts sang along to the tune of the enchanted orchestra, "True as it can be."

Celine stifled her laughter as she noticed him struggle with the hand-eye coordination of handling a spoon. She supposed paws weren't the best ally when it came to dining etiquette. Trying to help him feel more comfortable and less out-of-place, she touched his arm to get his attention then lifted her bowl to her lips. He smiled appreciatively then followed her gesture of drinking straight from the bowl by lifting it to his lips.

"Barely even friends, then somebody bends unexpectedly."

Although there were several other courses lined up to be served, once they finished the first course, Celine took him by the arm and dragged him away toward the ballroom. His movement was off-balanced with the surprise of suddenly changing location, but he was quick to adjust and regain his footing.

"Just a little change. Small to say the least."

Her smile remained warm as she moved from his side to the front to face him. However, concern filled her eyes as she noticed the pure terror reflected on his as he looked down at their hands. She freed one of her hands and gently lifted his chin so that their eyes might meet.

"Just focus on me," she suggested, "and the rest will follow."

Although he was still tense, he nodded his head. From that small and simple gesture, she knew: he trusted her. She was equally anxious by that prospect, but she wouldn't let fear stand in her way.

"Both a little scared, neither one prepared, beauty and the beast."

The dance was a bit clumsy at first, but as they improved and moved in sync, the motions became natural. They twirled around the open expanse and suddenly it felt as if they were the only two souls left in the world. The music swelled and consequently he lifted her from the ground. The train of her gown floated in the air and the visual illusion of wings came to mind. The candlelight that formed a halo behind her only solidified the comparison of an angel. Her laughter was melodic and contagious as he chuckled under his breath.

"Ever just the same. Ever a surprise. Ever as before, ever just as sure, as the sun will rise."

That's when the atmosphere around them changed. Celine's eyes glowed a vibrant green hue as sparks of the same color flew from the hem of her skirt. Neither individual had any idea that things were different until it was too late. The music slowed to an eerie pace and Mrs. Potts's voice could still be heard, but the teapot was nowhere to be seen.

Adam gently set Celine back on the ground. She was the first to break eye contact and notice their surroundings. They were still in the center of the ballroom, but the pair of thrones at the back of the room were certainly new. However, neither individual found the room foreign, for he had grown up in the room and she had seen it in her visions.

"By royal decree." Adam and Celine turned their heads in unison toward the sound of the herald's voice. The way he spoke was familiar, rolling each 'r' that escaped his lips, but she didn't recognize his face. "The practice of witchcraft and wizardry has been prohibited. His royal highness extends a token of the highest honor to the huntsman who eradicates spoken evil from the land."

"What's happening?" Celine whispered her question.

Adam didn't answer. His eyes had frozen on the strong figure seated on the throne and the woman seated at his side. She gently took his arm.

"Adam?"

He turned to look down at her, shock still registering across his face. "That's my parents..."

The armored guards around the room pounded their chests with their fist and shouted in unison, "Hail, King Alexandre."

Celine's blood ran cold at the mention of the name responsible for the death of her own father. Adam hadn't noticed her hesitation as he gestured toward the herald standing before the throne. "And that's Cogsworth—a much younger version of the Cogsworth I know anyway."

"How is this possible?" Celine questioned. Her voice remained quiet as if afraid that if she spoke up they'd be seen.

"I'm not sure," Adam admitted, but his frustration was growing with each passing moment. He growled, "Perhaps an unspoken side effect of the curse. I now understand why my parents outlawed the practice of magic. The prospect of fulfilling wishes is enticing, but never ends well."

Celine's lips twisted. She wasn't quite sure whether she agreed. Sure, she'd seen the lasting effects of the curse, perhaps not to their full extent, but she understood the entire castle was in pain. Magic even seemed to be the cause behind her father's death. However, she couldn't help but think it was the human action that forced a magical reaction. She kept quiet though, clearing her throat to change the topic of conversation. "Do you think they see us?"

Adam looked around, adjusting his stance as if protecting her with his hulking form. He wouldn't let her light be vulnerable to the darkness of the room. He loved his parents and missed them dearly, but he was not blind to their cruelty, carried on then in the form of his uncle, and finally his own character over the years as he descended into madness. Realizing that everyone in the room seemed to ignore them, he shook his head. "I don't believe so."

"Capitaine Devereux." It was the first time the king had spoken and Celine visibly shuddered. She'd thought her veins were ice before, but now she truly understood the meaning of the word cold. She hadn't expected her father's name to be called, nor for a notable rank to come before it. "Step forward."

Raoul was silent as he moved forward. He bowed and remained in the bent position until he'd been directed to stand at attention. The king's grin had grown twisted with sick pleasure as he looked the soldier over.

"This hunter has proved himself in a battle with our physical enemy and the battle with our spiritual enemy," the king declared, "Here is the example of how good soldiers shall be honored in my court. Capitaine Devereux, you shall lead the best of my soldiers to claim victory in this righteous battle against evil."

"That's my father..." Celine quietly nodded toward Raoul. "He's different from how I remember him."

"Tale as old as time. Tune as old as song."

The music swelled once more before Adam could reply. They both jumped in alarm, startled as the atmosphere around them changed once more. They no longer stood in the ballroom, but were surrounded by the thick canopy of the forest. Just in the distance, Adam and Celine watched as a man approached a woman, who appeared more like a nymph than human, with his gun loaded and aimed in her direction. The young couple wasn't close enough to identify, but Celine had no doubt who they were.

"My mother..."

"This must be the first time they met," Adam noted.

"That would make sense," Celine agreed, never taking her eyes away from her parents, "Maman did say my father was a hunter... she just never told me that she was what he hunted."

Adam looked toward her in confusion, struggling to make the same connection. The young illusion of Althea took Raoul by the hand and ran off into the forest, changing into a lifetime of foreign memories that passed in but a second. In less than a minute, Celine watched their entire love story unfold, including the addition of a child they referred to as their petit ange. She had to close her eyes though as their story came to a close with the death of her father and her mother's wails as she discovered his corpse.

She turned her head and buried her face into Adam's chest. He felt safe and provided the support she needed as he wrapped his arms around her. He did well hiding how shaken he was by the sudden turn of violence since refused to let it show.

"Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change, learning you were wrong."

The quiet score of music underwent another crescendo that symbolized the changing imagery around them. They returned to the castle as a young boy sprinted down the halls past the queen, hiding behind the lengthy curtains. The king was less than pleased by this outburst of character. He raised his voice to shout and the boy's hidden form immediately stiffened, causing the curtains to rustle. Sheepishly, the boy inched back to face his parents, keeping his eyes directed toward the ground.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you, son." The king's voice had not changed, remaining just as cold when speaking to strangers compared to his own child. Adam averted his eyes and suddenly the roles were reversed. It was Celine's turn to provide support. "The du Beaumont men are strong. We do not cower in fear and we do not show weakness."

"Allow me to speak with him," the queen requested, risking her husband's wrath by interrupting. For whatever reason, he had a soft spot only for her and left the room with a single nod. She lowered herself down to the same level as the boy and allowed a warm smile to appear on her face that had previously been stone-cold. "You must be brave, mon cœur de Lion."

The boy sniffed and embraced his mother. "Must you go?"

"Oui, your father is needed on the battlefield." His mother nodded her head, offering her son a look of sympathy. "But while we are gone, you're the man of the castle. Can I trust you to protect our home?"

The boy slowly nodded his head, putting on a brave face as his posture straightened.

"I failed to do even that," Adam muttered under his breath. The lights dimmed and it was then just the two of them. Adam released Celine's hand and walked back toward the ballroom. "That was the last time I saw them."

"The events that followed were hardly your fault," Celine attempted to console him, lifting the hem of her skirt as she quickened her pace to catch up with him. "You were just a child. Running a kingdom is not the responsibility you were meant to possess at such a young age."

Adam gently nodded his head, offering her an appreciative look, but the bitterness in his eyes remained. "My uncle eagerly took his place on the throne when the people agreed I was too inexperienced to rule."

"And then came the curse..." Celine finished his unspoken thought, wrapping her arm around his.

He looked down at her, surprised by the sudden contact, but nodded his head in agreement. As if the curse understood their process of thought, the music swelled once more and the lyrics sung by Mrs. Potts carried them back to the night they were both dreading. They both claimed to want answers, but they feared them just as much as they desired them.

"Certain as the sun. Rising in the east."

The weather was cold that December evening. The wind was harsh and the snow was thick. Despite the white environment, Celine and Adam felt no colder than when inside the castle walls.

A woman sprinted past them, carrying a small child in her arms. The child's cloak was soaked and she shuddered with every step her mother took. The woman hardly cast a glance to check her shoulder, but upon doing so revealed herself to be none other than Althea. In the distance, a dim torchlight could be seen and a shadow of mass resembling a mob of hunters. Gunfire echoed around them, enough of a warning to send the mother running once more.

"Everything is alright now, mon petit ange," Althea consoled the child quaking in her arms. "I won't let those beasts harm you."

Althea lifted her knees higher as she trudged through the thickening snow. Only once she reached the golden gates of the castle did she release a sigh of relief that stained the air with steam. The gate had remained unlocked to welcome in the guests invited to the castle for the evening festivities, but how could a beggar woman and her daughter know that?

Althea only set her daughter on the ground once they reached the castle steps. A glint of recognition passed through her eyes as she scanned the castle for signs of life. Of course the musicians and guests could be heard inside: raucous and lively meant a well-hosted ball.

The young Celine rubbed her eyes, pulling her cloak tighter around herself, cold and exhausted from their travels. "I'm sleepy, Maman. Can we go home?"

Althea looked at her daughter with sympathy. As she glanced up toward the towering walls, her eyes hardened, but turned soft once she looked back down at her little angel. "There is just one more thing I must do, mon ange."

"Where are you going, Maman?" The young Celine's small emerald eyes blinked back tears at the thought of being left alone.

Althea offered her a gentle smile, bending down to the small girl's level to hold her by the arms. "I'm going to make sure the bad men never come looking for us again. Then we will go home. I promise."

The young Celine brightened and nodded her head. Althea gently guided the girl into the bushes, hiding her from plain sight. She then lifted a finger to her lips, signaling that the child needed to stay put and remain silent. The girl nodded her head to confirm she understood.

Althea stood and faced the looming castle doors, but immediately her facial structure grew haggard and wrinkled. She knocked on the door and a pair of guards answered, but appeared less than pleased by her presence. Neither Celine nor Adam heard what Althea uttered under her breath, but the guards' eyes immediately flashed gold and they became highly susceptible to new instructions.

They led the disguised woman down the hall and into the ballroom where a young prince, with a lion mask lazily adorned on the top of his head, yawned with boredom as his uncle sat atop the king's throne. As the doors were thrown aside and Althea limped into the room, the regent stood and approached.

"What is this disruption?"

"She—she insisted upon meeting his highness," the guard stuttered, finally free of the spell he'd been under.

The regent looked expectantly toward Althea, but her silence agitated him quickly. "Well spit it out, woman!"

"Not you," Althea's voice rasped. She lifted a single, gnarled finger and pointed to the prince. "I come for the boy."

"Me?" The small prince looked up and pointed toward himself, finally paying attention. Unlike the first time she'd watched the dream unfold, Celine noticed the boy appeared uneasy rather than repulsed.

Althea nodded her head. It was then that the prince's snobbish behavior appeared. He scoffed as he approached, and recoiled as she tried to take his hand in hers.

"I heard word of the disastrous events of the late king and queen," Althea said, initially ignoring the gesture. The prince's face fell at the reminder of his parents' recent death—and Adam's face shared the same expression. "How tragic... but befitting of such monsters—"

"Who are you to speak of my parents like this?" The boy snapped, enraged.

Celine quickly realized there was more to this child than the entitled behavior she witnessed the first night she spent in the castle. The boy may have been molded by pompous nobility, but he had not quite been taught to control his emotional state just yet.

"There was a time when magic flourished in this fair country," Althea ignored the boy's remark. "The late king and queen extinguished just about every last spark. Now, I've come to see what the little prince plans... and offer him a blessing."

Althea slowly pulled a rose from her robe and extended it out to the prince. The boy scoffed. "You call this a blessing? I have a dozen more just like it in the gardens."

"There is more to this rose than meets the eye," Althea ominously warned. "It serves as a symbol: the start of fixing the wrongs of the previous generation. There's still some magic left in this world, but it's dying—"

"I don't care," the prince interrupted. "You've rudely interrupted this evening and have disrupted my guests long enough. Be gone, hag."

Althea's haggard face fell, but she extended the rose once more and fell to her knees as if preparing to beg. "Allow me to stay one night, sire. I ask you not to send me back out into that bitter storm."

The prince glanced back toward his uncle, looking for some form of approval. The regent simply upturned his nose. The prince mimicked his action as he sneered at the old woman. "You shall receive no sympathy from here."

"I ask you just once more," Althea slowly rose to her feet and offered him the flower for the last time. "Do not be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within..."

The regent scoffed and turned to walk back to the throne, now uninterested in the matter, leaving the final decision up to his nephew as if it were a test all along. The boy's eyes hardened as turned his face away and motioned for the guards to haul the old woman away. The guards moved to obey the prince's command, but were never given the chance.

They were easily knocked aside as the hag's deformed appearance melted away and was replaced by a brilliant light. The entire room averted their eyes for fear of going blind. The regent screamed and the prince's eyes widened in horror. This time, Althea's form was visible to both Celine and Adam, finally connecting the last piece of the puzzle that explained everything.

Their parents had gone back and forth, acting in anger and vengeance, destroying one another until nothing was left of either legacy. Additionally, innocents were caught in the crossfire: the benevolent faye, the household staff, and the heirs of the warring individuals themselves.

The castle guests screamed and tried to escape the room while the regent ordered the surrounding guards to subdue the enchantress. However, she had no issues dealing with them and their armor clattered to the ground, no longer occupied. She then turned her attention toward the faux king himself.

"You're no better than those before you." Althea's voice echoed around the room and her eyes glowed a brilliant gold hue. "You persecuted those that were different in hopes of boosting your own greatness... Oh, how far you fell."

The regent turned coward frantically looked around the room for an escape from the enchantress's wrath. However, there was none. She lifted her hands and chanted a few words in an ancient tongue that evaporated the man on the spot. The crown too large for his head clattered against the polished floor.

The prince's eyes widened in horror and he immediately realized his mistake as he collapsed to his knees. His hands clasped together as he looked up at the enchantress, pleading for his life. The enchantress shook her head, lifted her hands, but stopped and turned to look at the vacant space to her right. It was almost as if she'd spotted Celine and Adam. The enchantress sighed and looked at the boy, almost as if pitying him.

"Raoul reminds me of a time where I was generous enough to provide second chances." The corners of her mouth turned in a slight smile, but vanished just as quickly. She slowly shook her head. "The little prince is as beastly as his parents... but there is still time to change. So, I offer you a second chance, little prince."

The boy looked up at the enchantress, but it was impossible to tell if he was actually listening. He only seemed to concentrate on himself and his fear.

"There is no love in his heart." Althea clicked her tongue in disapproval. Celine no longer recognized her own mother. The face may have been the same, but her demeanor was cold and chilling to witness. Althea continued her conversation as if there was someone else with whom to speak. "Should he learn to love another, and that love be returned prior to the last petal of this rose falling from its stalk on his twenty-first birthday then this spell shall be broken."

The boy's mask fell down over his face as gold sparks flickered from the enchantress's hands. He made an attempt to pry it off, but it was no use. The sparks of magic were drawn to him and he cowered the second they touched him. A low growl echoed around the room while the enchantress focused on completing her spell.

She closed her fists as if drawing her energy inward before it surged outward, touching anything and everyone that remained on the palace grounds. An ear-shattering scream drew Adam, Celine, and Althea's attention toward the door. The younger version of Celine stood frozen at the threshold of the room. Having grown concerned for her mother, the child had pushed past the nobles fleeing from the castle and entered the room just in time to receive the end effects of the spell tainted with dark magic.

Golden sparks that matched the color of her hair flickered and stained the girl's eyes, drawing her closer to the enchantress and the curse. A look of horror contorted Althea's celestial features as the girl's small form crumpled and collapsed. The cursed boy was forgotten, left writhing along the ground as his nails elongated into claws while his hair grew into an untamed mane. He was the last thing on her mind as she released a wail, cradling her daughter within her arms. The child paled and her lashes fluttered, closing as her breath grew shallow.

"Je suis desolée," Althea apologized under her breath, slowly rocking as tears streamed down her face. "Mon petit ange, I meant to protect you... this was to protect you."

There was one final flash of light that allowed the enchantress and her daughter to vanish and escape presumably to the village where Celine would spend the next ten years of her life. That flash of light also ended the spell and returned the pair of travelers back to the dance within the ballroom.

"Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme, beauty and the beast." The tune slowed and Mrs. Potts smiled as she repeated the final lyrics of the song. "Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme, beauty and the beast."

Celine and Adam stood mere centimeters from one another. Their eyes remained locked into the other pair: sapphires staring into emeralds. However, they both held a deep pain that had yet to be dealt with.

Celine felt as if her chest was closing and her breath grew shallow. Without a following word of explanation, she gently released his hand, lifted the hem of her skirt, and rushed toward the balcony for fresh air. There was too much to take in and she refused to spend one more second within the room where the source of her troubles began.

Mrs. Potts, Cogsworth, and Lumiere looked at one another in both confusion and concern. As far as they could tell, the dance had gone well. The two had moved in such perfect sync that their chemistry was undeniable, all the while the staff remained unaware of what really occurred.

Adam turned his head in their direction. He could tell they wanted answers or to help in some regard, but at the moment nothing mattered more to him than the well-being of Celine. He shook his head to keep the staff from approaching then made his way out toward the balcony.

Sure, he was hurting himself. Reliving those memories always reopened the wound, but he'd had ten years to deal with the curse. He knew who he was and why he'd been cursed in the first place... although now he was slightly unsure if judging a book by its cover was the exact reason for his punishment... Which wasn't the point. His world wouldn't shatter within the next few minutes while hers looked like it would. She'd provided a shoulder to depend on and an ear to listen in his time of desperation and pain. The least he could do was return the favor.

So, he did just that. He took a seat beside her, said nothing, and simply listened.