beauty and the beast sideblog. i post about both the 1991 and 2017 films, the broadway musical, and any other batb interpretations that come my way. fandom meme lord and fic librarian. i follow from
Beatrice scrambled through the rose garden, tripping over the deep gold skirts she’d worn specifically to look nice for her host. Where was Beast? He wasn’t in the library, dining room, conservatory, aviary, music room, ballroom, study, parlor, billiard room, or any of the castle towers. She’d thought she’d find him brooding in a melancholy corner, awaiting her return, but she was running out of melancholy corners and beginning to get frustrated. Where could an eight-foot-tall dog-tiger-monkey man possibly hide?
The garden had changed. The usual balmy summer had become oppressively hot and humid. The roses drooped. The damp air clung to Beatrice’s skin and red curls escaped her hairpins and frizzed around her face. Where were the sparkling sunshowers that kept the gardens moist? Where were the playful breezes that kept the air fresh and cool? Beatrice hadn’t seen so much as a fluttering curtain to indicate the presence of an invisible servant. Everything was silent. Still. Dead.
Half-mad with anxiety, she raced down cobbled paths and across the wide lawns where she and her Beast had played so many games of croquet. Past fountains where they’d splashed each other in ferocious water battles. She trampled beds of pansies and tore holes in hedges and prayed the invisible gardener would forgive her. If Beast meant to get revenge for her delay in returning, he was doing an excellent job of it, but when–yes, when–she found him, they would have words about how a single day of waiting did not justify throwing your guest into a blind panic.
She checked every bench in the garden, navigated the entire hedge maze, and even took a raft to check the bottom of the lily pond. When she came ashore, she leapt a short hedge and found herself at the far end of the south lawn, where the lush grass gave way to rougher scrub as the palace grounds approached the surrounding woods. A creek babbled over stones, separating forest from palace, and not far from its bank, Beatrice saw a lump of tawny-striped fur covered in a familiar blue cloak.
Beatrice raced to Beast’s side and found him barely conscious. His fur was dull, his eyes were glassy, and he panted in the heat. The sharp teeth sticking out of his pointed muzzle were as dry as his black nose.
Beatrice struggled to catch her breath, then gasped, “Beast! What happened?”
Beast lay curled up on his right side, legs bent to his chest like a newborn babe, while he clutched his long tail in one monkey-like hand. Softly, he said, “You broke your promise."
How could he be so maddening? "It was one extra day! I haven’t seen my family in nearly two years! I thought you could manage without falling into a melancholic decline!”
Beast squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw against some internal pain. “I told you. Three days only. Or I waste away and die.”
“I thought it was a metaphor! You know how dramatic you get!”
He shook his head. “Rules of this place.”
Beatrice’s stomach sank. Though the sun shone hot as ever, it seemed to Beatrice as though a cloud had blocked all the light. She didn’t…he couldn’t…
honestly i love the entire “woman falls for fearsome supernatural creature that truly loves her and treats her well instead of her intended human suitor who is only interested in the status marrying her will bring them and doesn’t care about her happiness” genre because it combines all of the things i look for in an ideal romantic partner: someone tall and strong, but tender and kind, who cares about my happiness, and fangs
ALT
ALT
