Title: Beauty
Author: Queen
Rating:PG
Mail: queen2126@hotmail.com
Hello, and welcome back for Part 2, minna! Sailor Moon and the characters in
it do not belong to me, but to Naoko Takeuchi, Toei Anime, Chix Comix,
Pocket Mixx, and DiC. The story belongs to anyone with an imagination.
Please mail! (queen2126@hotmail.com) I'd love to hear from anyone and
everyone!
Enjoy!
-Queen
Beauty-
Part 2- The Many Colored Glass
To Mercy Pity Peace and Love,
All pray in their distress:
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.
For Mercy has a human heart
Pity, a human face:
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.
And all must love the human form,
In heathen, turk or jew.
Where Mercy, Love & Pity dwell,
There God is dwelling too.
from The Divine Image - Songs of Innocence
William Blake
It seemed so simple, in remembrance. The eyes that are the windows to the
soul were precisely the same, the chestnut color, distant somewhat. But
alive and not painted on the canvas, they harbored the sadness more visibly,
and that Ami could see. She did not say a word of it to the Beast. It would
hurt him, and she was certain that he had led her to the painting, with
those words, to tell her of what he was. This, then, was the curse that
Makoto had distractedly mentioned. And what Rei had meant when she said that
the prince was not trapped as they were.
These were Ami's thoughts as she lay in bed, awake, listening to the twelve
gongs of the clock in the halls below her. It echoed loudly, heard through
all the castle.
She was more eager to wake the next morning. Part of her wished to find the
Beast, to speak to him again. They had parted ways after the conversation at
the portrait, Ami to her room to undress and sleep, the Beast to do whatever
he was to do. But the day sprawled before her. Dressing quietly, she sailed
out of the room, not waking Minako or Rei, who was dozing half out of her
candlewick.
More certain of her footing today, she drifted to the library of the day
before. Upon opening the doors, she drew up at the sight of the Beast,
sitting atop one of the ladders that led to the upper levels of the library.
His tail fell over the small platform he sat on, book open in hand, lips
murmuring as he read the page to himself.
"Milord?"
He snapped the book shut, startled at her sudden appearance in the doorway.
"You're here?"
Ami smiled faintly. "I woke early."
He set the book back into its slot on the shelf, then turned to watch her
from above. "I did not know you cared to read."
"I love to read!" Ami exclaimed, settling herself onto the sofa. "What were
you looking at?"
"A book left on the table there yesterday." He gestured at the endtable
beside the sofa. "Christine dePizan."
"The Book of the City of Ladies? Yes, I was reading it yesterday. I'm sorry
for leaving it out."
The Beast waved it off. "Did you enjoy it?"
"Oh, yes. It's not often I get new books in town. I was reading Chaucer...
before," she trailed off, then regrouped. "I had just finished the Wife of
Bath's tale."
"I haven't read that, though I have a fine collection of Shakespeare's
folios."
"May I see them? Quarto form?"
He slid the ladder along the rail, then plucked a looseleaf and folded
sheaf of papers from their spot. She stood, taking them from where he handed
them down to her. Idly, she flipped through them, resettling to the stuffed
sofa.
"What was it about?"
"Hm?" Ami lifted her head from the sliding sheets, splayed out across her
lap. "What? Chaucer?"
"The tale you mentioned. What is it?"
Ami blinked, uncomfortable. "You want to know what the tale is about?"
"Yes."
Ami bit her lip, watching the Beast leap from his perch on the ladder,
landing with a soft thud on the floorboards. He padded his way to the sofa,
sitting beside her. She took a breath. The story of the Wife of Bath could
be taken in an interesting way by the Beast. She hoped he would take it
well. "It begins in the era of Arthur. One of his finest knights...committed
a...grievous sin. To a woman." She waited to see his interest. After a
moment, he nodded, understanding, and urged her to continue.
"Go on."
"The queen stopped Arthur from punishing him, and instead gave him a
challenge and a geas. He was to learn what it was that women most desire, to
atone for his crime. He would have a year and a day to do so. He searched
the land, asking all the women he met, and they gave him many answers, but
none were the correct one. Until one day, he came across an old woman, a
witch. She was very...ugly," Ami managed, trying not to falter in her tale.
The Beast was breathing steadily beside her, saying nothing. "She whispered
the answer in his ear, and sent him back to court, where an assembly had
gathered. He told them that what women want was sovereignty in marriage, and
have their way in love. No woman could contradict this, seeing its wisdom."
The Beast snorted, dismissive. "And the knight was let off free. What good
was his journey to him, if he learned nothing?"
"But the story isn't over."
"Oh?"
"No!" Ami laughed, placing a hand on his arm. She spread her other hand
over the scrawled pages of paper on her knees, letting her eyes roam to the
painting over the fireplace, of the happy couple, gazing up into each
others' eyes. She blinked once, looking at the image. "There in the crowd,
the witch stood. She proclaimed that it was she who gave him the knowledge.
She demanded, in return for the answer, the hand of the knight."
"Why would she want to marry a man who would do such a thing?"
To that, Ami sighed, looking at him. "He had changed, during the time. He
learned something in his journey, though at that moment he did not know it
yet."
"And then?"
"Then the queen gave her orders. The knight was to marry the witch, who was
so old and ugly. The knight was horrified at this, but he knew that it was
the order of the queen, and thus the great King Arthur. And he owed the
witch his life. And so they were married.
"On their wedding night, they lay in bed, the knight refusing to touch her.
She told him that he was to have a choice. As an old and ugly witch, men
would be unlikely to want her, and as such, she would be completely loyal to
him alone. But as a witch, she could make herself beautiful. If she did so,
she would be far more tempting, and may not be so faithful to him. The
choice was his.
"The knight thought about this choice. At last he sighed, taking his wife
in his arms, telling her he would accept her decision with honor, and would
be content with whatever pleased her. At this, the she commanded him to kiss
her. And as he did this, she became as beautiful as an empress, saying that
since she had won sovereignty in love, and freedom in their marriage, that
it was her choice to be both faithful and beautiful."
"A beautiful story."
"Very."
"Is that what you want, Ami? Love from a husband, and freedom?"
"I want someone to love, and someone to love me in return. Someone...kind.
Beautiful of spirit, and kind of heart." She looked at the painting of the
couple above the fireplace. "Someone to look at me the way he looks at her."
Breaking her eyes away from the image, she looked to the paper before her,
then realized that her hand was still resting lightly on the arm of the
Beast. She lifted it away before she could think, an unsteady, startled
motion that made her flinch.
She heard a great breath of air from the Beast, who dropped to all fours,
pacing around the sofa. Ami turned to watch him go. "Wait, I-" she tried,
holding a hand out as though to stop him.
He said nothing, and with a flick of his tail, left the room.
"I hurt him," Ami breathed, watching the door click to a close. She turned,
assembling the copy of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" and tying the loose ends
together. After a moment, she ran her fingers through her hair, setting the
waves rolling into each other. Setting the folio beside her, she walked to
the mirror on the wall, running her fingers over her face. "I didn't mean to
hurt him," she told the image of herself, placing her fingers to the looking
glass. She sighed, looking at her eyes, the translucent sapphire color of
the rivers. "What is wrong with me?" she asked the mirror, as though her
reflection may give her an answer.
After a moment, she looked defeatedly in the glass, the edge of the
painting visible behind her. She turned slowly. "And you two. You shouldn't
move if you want your privacy."
The picture remained still for a moment, then the girl's lips turned
upward, followed by the young man's, causing the girl in white to burst into
a fit of giggles. The man shook his head, turning and catching Ami in his
own ocean blue gaze. Dreamily, the young woman's hair floated down, hanging
in the twin tails down her back. They remained holding each other. "We
didn't want to surprise you," the girl laughed, a high, twinkling laugh,
that could become ear shattering if pitched much higher.
"I've already met Minako, Rei, and Makoto. Two people in a painting are
fairly normal for this place. May I ask who you are?"
"Endymion," the man answered. "My wife, Serenity."
"Pleased to meet you, Ami," Serenity made a small curtsy, while Endymion
bowed from the waist. "It's nice to finally greet the mistress of the
castle!"
"Mistress?" Ami asked, startled. "Me?"
Serenity nodded eagerly, flushing in excitement at the gossip. "Oh yes!
Minako was telling me all about you and Urgh-!" Serenity's speech was cut
off by Endymion's hand, which was now over her mouth.
"Forgive Serenity. She gets...." Endymion glanced at Serenity, who was
making choking motions, while looking angry at the interruption.
"...excitable, sometimes."
"It's all right. Were you servants in the castle, as well?"
Serenity finally broke Endymion's hold on her mouth, elbowing him viciously
in in the ribs. "No. We were visiting when the enchantress came."
"A case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, you could say,"
Endymion told her. "We came to see the prince's parents."
"Who never showed," Serenity sighed, shaking her head sadly. "Poor boy. Of
course, he's gotten older."
"You haven't aged?"
"Nope!" Serenity cheered. "Not a day! Wonderful for the complexion, don't
you think?" she touched a cheek softly, patting it. "No pimples, no bad hair
days."
"No walking around, no breathing," Endymion added, not looking as
enthusiastic as Serenity about their static state.
"No," Serenity agreed, leaning against him. "And I miss going for walks
with you."
Endymion wrapped his arm around Serenity, a gentle, protective gesture. As
Ami watched, they slowly seemed to fade into the picture again, leaning
gently against each other. Ami felt a tinge of jealousy for them, the
happiness they embodied, and the ease with which they held each other.
Ami coasted to the window, looking out at the garden below. The gazebo
stood out of the piles of flowers, the steeple of the roof white and red
from both paint and roses. There was a motion from within it, the sudden
jerk of flora settling as the Beast trimmed them. There had been a moment,
she knew, when she had placed her hand on his arm, and it had rested there
as easily as Serenity's now rested on Endymion's.
"What is wrong with me?" she asked again, and hoped that she, with all her
mind and knowledge, could sort out the strange sensation rolling over her.
"What is wrong with me?"
She did not see the Beast at dinner. She had dressed in one of Minako's
ball gowns again, in hope of giving herself strength. Ami wanted to
apologize to him. The way she had pulled away. It was such a small thing,
and somehow it disturbed her for him to think that she was as unwilling to
have any contact with him, in the way that the knight refused to touch the
witch. Beast he may appear, but she could see so clearly through that now.
When her mother had taken that rose, she had cut the one thing that he held
precious and beautiful. It gave him no right to behave the way he had, but
now she understood it. To imagine the thing closest to your heart cut so
sharply away by a stranger. And he had been living alone for several years
now.
Minako, Rei and Makoto, as well as Endymion and Serenity...they were not
companions to him. Minako was too bubbly, and would have no interest in the
books and the garden he seemed so comfortable with. Rei was a complete
personality mismatch. They would clash. And Makoto treated him as an older
sister while she placed food before them.
She ate alone, wondering if the Beast was eating in his own way. She
shuddered to think of what that may be. An image of him as a young man came
to her mind, an adaptation of the portrait in the hall. Older, less aloof,
less sad. Trapped within the body of the Beast. Who could love him that way?
And in that, Ami realized, was his torture. He had no family. They ignored
him, commanding him wherever they needed to go, and he accepted it as he
must.
Her mother often was away on medical business, leaving her to mind the
clinic. But mama always came back, and often with a small gift. When she was
little, it was a toy doll, from a farm, or raspberry marmalade. And when
mother spent longer days at home, they would bake cookies, pressing designs
into them. And as Ami grew, she found herself invited along the trips,
learning as her mother worked. And slowly, Ami learned to be independent,
and strong in her own, quiet way. She did not need to be loud to be seen.
Her calm, calculating usefulness spoke clearly for itself.
She set the fork she had been holding down with a clatter, and Makoto flew
over, looking concerned. "Ami? What's the matter?" Makoto's worried face
floated ethereal before Ami, skirts not touching the ground.
"Nothing, Mako. I'm finished," Ami wiped her mouth. "I'm going for a walk."
"Ami...."
"I'm fine, Mako. Really."
Makoto sighed softly, shaking her head. "Go on. Ami...?"
At the question, Ami turned slightly hand on the door. "Have you seen the
hallway in the east wing?"
"The east wing?"
"Look for it. You may find it interesting." Makoto turned, tray in hands,
and ghosted from the room through the swinging door to the kitchens.
Puzzled and curious, Ami found herself walking slowly forward, heading
through familiar corridors, which grew less and less recognizable as she
moved through them. She passed the portrait on the wall, and the grandfather
clock, meandering past tapestry and windowsill. A turn, a twist, and she
found herself facing a mosaic of beautifully patterned stained glass.
The hallway was wide, one side lined in mirrors, reflecting the images of
the other side a thousand times over. And as Ami moved towards the panels of
many colored glass, she saw a story being slowly acted out. "Makoto told
you?"
"Minako?" Ami turned to see her red ribboned friend in the mirror behind
her, looking more solemn than she had ever seen her. She was standing in a
full length mirror, the fullness of her form revealed, laying indistinctly
behind Ami's more solid reflection. "This is what happened that night, isn't
it? When you, and the others were...."
"Enchanted?"
"Yes."
"It is," Minako told her, looking at the enigma of rainbow shards. They fit
together, the black beams of iron holding them together looking like black
scars across their bodies. In the reddish light of the dying sun outside,
the warm colors of the glass were brightened, sending light crimson beams
though in shafts, making motes of dust floating visible as the light pooled
on the floor. Blue and yellow streaked Ami's face as she observed the
drawings.
"Tell me, Minako. What happened?"
"You see her? The woman in black?"
"Yes," Ami said, touching the dark figure. "The Enchantress?"
"She came on the Master's birthday. There was a storm that night. She came
to the door as a beggar woman, clutching a cane. She had nothing to offer
for her stay, and wished for charity. The Master told me to dismiss her. But
she...she came in. I wasn't going to push her out. I couldn't. But he was
there, watching, and demanded that she leave at once for trespassing, or he
would throw her out."
As Minako spoke, Ami wandered among the images in glass, watching the story
unfold before her. She traced the faces of the people acting their silent
drama, seeing how the sculptor of the images had caught the essence of their
expressions. The bent shape of the cowled woman, obscured by the hood. She
saw Minako, red bow in place, looking startled as the woman passed her by,
holding her cane with gnarled hands.
"She was very ugly," Minako was saying as Ami came to the portrait of the
woman, her hood thrown back. Her eyes were red, her hair white and tangled.
"But she gave the Master another chance to change his mind. She told him
that his heart was sick, and needed to heal."
Ami traced the face of the woman with her eyes, mind already knowing what
would happen in the next panel of glass. "He dismissed her again."
Minako was silent for a moment, waiting as Ami leaned away to look at the
multiple scenes. Ami walked along, Minako growing smaller and larger behind
her as she moved from mirror to mirror. "Yes, again. This time himself. I
think she put me in the mirror so I can see myself, you know. So that I
could always see what I looked like. Maybe to be grateful I didn't appear to
be repulsive.
"But when he refused her, she lifted the staff over her head, and it
changed, as she did."
Ami could see how. The knotted, half rotted wood had turned into a fine
silver staff, curled and glistening, a red piece of glass representing a
large ruby or garnet within a heart. And the black cloak had become a dress,
long and flowing around her as the panel displayed the casting of the spell.
Black and jade stain had been used for her hair, which flowed in the
casting, the sunlight causing her spell to glow around the frozen people.
"When I could see clearly again, I was in here, and the Master...."
"Was the Beast," Ami finished, looking at the curled and lupine form in the
forefront of the enchantress. "And the glass here?"
"We found it later. We all assume that she put it there."
"The final panel," Ami said, looking at it. After the spell picture, the
glass was clouded, swirls diluted and merging together, without image.
"Minako," Ami asked suddenly, "how does one break the spell of the
Enchantress?"
"How to break it?" Minako asked, not quite understanding. "Can you perform
a counterspell?"
Ami shook her head. "I've no magic. But what were the terms of the spell?"
Minako did not seem cheered when she told Ami, "When I heard her speak, she
said that it must be broken by his twentieth year. Or else..." Minako
hesitated, looking afraid. "Or else the curse.... Ami, I honestly don't know
what may happen." Minako's usually cheery face was deadpan, devoid of its
usual happiness.
"How long, Minako?"
And Minako met Ami's eyes. "Not long enough, Ami. Not nearly long enough."
The night was cloudy, though the moon still shone through, the checkerboard
pattern of moonlight gracing the sleeping form in the bed. Ami slept, at
last. Staring at the ceiling had tired her, as she racked her brain for some
solution to the tumult in her mind. She had retired to her room after seeing
the wall of glass, pacing and at last lying still.
The morning did not bring her further answers. She stood, opening the
French doors in the cool of the morning, and dressed in the mirror, finding
herself selecting the only blue gown Minako seemed to own. Blue, to match
her feelings, sad and somehow calming. It was not full, but rounded,
brocaded in deeper shades of sapphire, the neckline trimmed in ermine, the
waist tied off with a sash.
She wandered instead, skipping breakfast. Food would only make her queasy
now, even the delicacies of Makoto's cooking. Traversing the halls, she let
herself become absorbed in the ways of the castle, the spiraling feeling she
felt as she was spun around. Finding her way to the library, she stopped on
seeing the images in the painting. Serenity and Endymion were asleep, heads
resting against each other. It was not an image she wished to see at that
particular moment, as her mind churned between confusion and confusion.
It was near to midday when she made up her mind to see the Beast. She had
secreted herself away in a room of tapestries, away from Minako's mirrors
and Rei's candles. She wished to be alone with her thoughts. Sitting in the
room alone, perched on the windowsill, she had watched the roiling clouds in
the sky, bleak and churning. The heavy scent of rain was beginning to grow,
filling the air with humidity. Head propped on an arm, she suddenly came to
the decision, not really thinking about it at all, but simply knowing that
it must be done.
Standing, she glided down to the gardens. He would have to be there. And he
was, standing in the midst of the roses that he cared for so much. What
struck Ami was the amount of the fallen petals that lay on the ground,
swirling around the silk folds of her skirts. She watched him turn around,
eying her narrowly, considering her presence. "Good morning."
"Good morning."
"May I help you?" She picked up a pair of shears, looking at a rose as she
touched it with a finger. The Beast did not respond, but rather turned back
to his flowers, continuing his watering. Not denied, Ami began to work in
the dirt. They went on like this for some time, working in silence alongside
each other.
"Why did you come?"
Ami looked up at him, wiping a lock of azure hair from her eyes, leaving a
small trail of dirt across her cheek. "It's beautiful here. So alive," she
brushed the petals of a rosebud, leaving it to wave in her wake.
"This place is for dying," the Beast told her. He took a handful of petals
from the ground, letting them drop slowly as they fell, fluttering in the
breeze until they swirled into the rest of the blanket of flowers, only to
be lifted again as the wind caught them, tossing them into the air to ballet
to the sound of the gazebo's windchime.
"But even they dance. Look, see?" She deliberately set her hand on his arm,
firmly establishing the contact. Under her fingers, the muscles of the
lupine man tensed, then relaxed at the touch. An idea forming in her mind,
Ami laughed lightly, turning to meet the Beast's chestnut eyes with her own
rivery ones. "Dance with me," she set her hand out to him to take. Warily he
watched her, unsure. "Come. Dance with me," it was a gentle command as her
fingers stretched out, waiting for him to place his broad paw into her tiny,
delicate palm.
The moment's breath passed, and he engulfed her slender fingers in his own,
leading her to the center of the gazebo. "It's been awhile," he told her,
looking down in embarrassment, grinning as he was wrapping an arm around her
waist.
"I've never danced."
"You'd stand out at court."
"I'm sorry."
"That was a compliment."
Ami blushed as he began to turn, the chimes ringing around them in the
wind. It was slow, the steps, but the Beast led, Ami following easily as
they spiraled around the wooden floor, spinning petals into an illusion of
red and white snow around them. As they slowly spun, Ami found her initial
nervousness evaporating as she learned the steps. And softly, she lay her
head against the linen of the Beast's tunic. She felt his hand enveloping
her own, and she watched it as they held their hands up. She opened her
palm, forcing him to release the grip, and instead, she laced her fingers
through his, connecting their hands in a weave of fur and flesh. She had not
been this close to him before, and he smelled surprisingly of soap and
roses, dirt and water, clean and rich scents, no perfumes to distract her
senses.
And as she leaned into him, he breathed in the scent of her hair, the smell
of water and rain, clear and pure. She was warm and small in his grip, and
he felt as through protecting her as he towered in his beastly form. And in
this pleasant feeling, the Beast murmured into her hair, "Marry me, Ami."
She startled from his arms, blinking in surprise, face blank of any other
emotion. He waited as she searched his face with her eyes, lips parted as
she tried to speak. "I...." she managed, "I...."
He pulled away slightly, looking at their interlocked hands. She was not
pulling away from him, but instead her grip had tightened, the shock of his
words leaving her speechless. "You worry about your mother," he said, and by
her sudden glance away, he felt certain. He had no family to speak of. She
did. And her heart was kind enough to worry for her mother. The Beast could
see that in her beautiful eyes. He wanted nothing more than to make her
happy, and remaining there with him would not allow that. "You have a life
outside here," he told her, and he slid his fingers out of the grip, letting
his hand fall to his side. "Go. Now."
It hurt, in her heart.
She still couldn't quite figure out why. For being such a brilliant girl,
Ami felt as though this was some enigma set before her, that involved no
tangible clues to its solution. She heard the question in her mind as she
walked forward, tugging the black velvet of her cloak tighter around her,
clutching the triangle knot of her brooch pin. Fleur had gone, most likely
through the open gate of the castle, left so by Ami on her arrival.
Rideless, she began her trek to the village, placing one foot before the
other steadily.
The sun was gone behind the clouds, and the trees swept above her,
obscuring the sky further. Grasses crunched underfoot as her skirts crushed
them. The trail to the village was narrow and broken with weeds. It was
afternoon now, and the humid heat was tiring her as she walked. Her hair was
damp and sticking to the sides of her face. She brushed it back, plunging
forward.
The pounding hooves of a horse made her turn around. Clods of dirt kicked
up behind it, the charger drew up along her, the rider taking a curved horn
from his belt and blowing it long. "Ami!" swinging down, he landed before
her. "What happened to you? Are you all right?"
"Fine, Nephlite. Please, stop," she batted his hands from her face.
"You're dirty," he touched the dirt smear on her cheek. "And what are you
wearing?"
"A dress," Ami responded, irritable. She did not want to put up with
Nephlite and his questions. If she was going home, even for a time, she
wanted to go without the interrogation. She'd have to tell it enough times
later.
Nephlite was far from listening to her as he began to look around the woods
surrounding them. "Zoicite's got Jadeite with him, and Kunzite's around here
somewhere looking for you too. Where were you? What happened?"
Ami sighed, folding her arms, giving every appearance of being petulant.
Stubbornness was not a usual trait people believed her to have, but that
stubborn streak showed whenever she decided on one particular thing. If she
decided she wanted something, beware anyone who stood in her way. It was
fortunate she was usually quiet. She took Nephlite's barrage of questions
stoically as Kunzite and then Jadeite and Zoicite arrived, each with their
own set of worries. Ami felt like a schoolgirl getting a scolding by four
very noisy chickens, at least until she found herself being held by Zoicite.
"Are you all right?" he demanded, holding her back and looking at her with
deadly seriousness in her eyes. Finally deciding she could get a word in
edgewise, Ami nodded.
"Yes. And I want to go home."
It was strange returning to town on the back of Zoicite's mount, the height
of the horse making her look down on the people below, who saw the vanished
girl and whispered, scurrying off like field mice to spread the word that
she had returned. Fierce and protective looks from her four impromptu
bodyguards held her viewers at arms length. Ami felt more than slightly
ridiculous, as though on stage when she opened the door. Never had such a
common event held so much interest by the entire town. Zoicite, Nephlite,
Jadeite and Kunzite trailed her in, and she was met with an astounded shout
of,
"Ami!" from Haruka, who was standing in the clinic, a tray of bandages in
her arms. She blinked once in amazement, then screamed, "Michiru! Sayuri!
Ami!" the tray of supplies clattered to the floor, and Ami found herself
being shaken ferociously by the shoulders. "Where the hell have you been? Do
you have any idea what your mother has been screaming about the last four
days? She's gone nuts, and you disappear!"
Appearing at the foot of the stairs, Michiru, hair covered in a scarf,
wiping her hands on an apron then placing them on her hips, snapped,
"Haruka!" who frowned, but let Ami go. "Ami, you should see your mother."
Ami didn't need to hear any more. Skirts flying behind her, she flew past
Michiru, who leapt out of the way. Ami ignored the sounds of shouting and
the stamping of boots on the floorboards behind her, the heavy treads of
Haruka and the men, and the lighter ones of Michiru.
She flung the door open, and in her room, her mother was staggering
forward, freezing as she saw Ami in the doorway. "Mama?"
"Ami?"
Ami ran forward and swept her mother up into a hug, feeling her mother's
hand trailing over the back of her head as they hugged. "You're alive!"
Sayuri gasped in wonder and joy. "The Beast!"
"Mother, I...."
"Ami," Michiru interrupted from the doorway. "Your mother...she's not
well," Michiru tapped her head slightly, looking both worried and depressed.
Five other figures loomed in the doorway, Haruka pushing past them to stand
beside Michiru.
"I saw the Beast, Michiru!" Sayuri tried to yell, but began a coughing fit.
Ami grabbed her, pressing her back into her bed. Taking a decanter of water
from the endtable, Ami ladled it into a cup, handing it to her mother, who
sipped it. Ami began to notice the paleness in her mother's face, and the
slightly sunken cheeks.
"You've been sick!" Ami exclaimed, feeling guilty. "Mother, what-?"
"I took the chills the day you left," Sayuri told her, not taking her eyes,
still vibrant in defiance, from Michiru. "We found the note you left.
Michiru came later that day, and found me asleep and you gone. They think
I'm crazy, talking about a monster in the old castle."
"Sayuri," Michiru began consolingly, hands parted and open in entreaty.
"There's no monsters in the forest. You were...."
"Not seeing things," Ami said firmly, standing from where she knelt at the
bedside. "He's real," she ran her fingers over her other hand, the feeling
of pelt still warm between her fingers. "I was at the castle."
That brought on another round of shouting and questions, along with several
questions of her own sanity. It was Zoicite who placed his fingers in his
mouth and whistled sharply, silencing the room, causing everyone to look at
him. "Sayuri needs rest," he said sensibly, "and we aren't going to get far
shouting at each other or at Ami. Beast or not, she's been gone for four
days, and she should at least have a chance to explain."
Jadeite began to make a comment about protecting his girlfriend, but
received two blunt blows to the stomach from Nephlite and Kunzite before he
got much out.
Michiru took charge of the silence following Zoicite's reasonable advice.
"Everyone downstairs, now! And that means you, too, Haruka!" Pushing the
protesting Haruka out the door, Michiru glanced over her shoulder at Ami.
"We'll be downstairs. Take your time," then she shut the door.
"Ami, why did he release you?"
Ami sat beside her mother on the bed, eyes downcast. She did not feel
surprised to hear that her mother was not asking how she escaped. Her own
experience with the Beast had taught her that had he wanted to kill her, she
would not be there beside her. "Because he's not a monster."
Sayuri watched her only child, the delicate features of her face pressed in
confusion and sadness. She remembered the face of the Beast in her own, the
ferocity of the eyes, but the surprise she felt when he agreed to let her to
say farewell to her daughter at her pleading. "Then why?"
"You killed the only thing he had."
"The rose?"
"Yes."
Sayuri glanced to the dresser on the opposite side of her room. Michiru had
found a crimson rose on the floor of the clinic, and had placed it in her
room to cheer her while her body fought the fever. It had broken only a few
hours earlier, and she felt much better. But the rose that had been dead and
black was now blossoming. "He treated you kindly?"
"Yes, Mother."
Sayuri was unsure what to say to her child. Ami was touching her hand as
though in remembrance of something, turning it over and flexing her fingers.
Sayuri saw her sadness. "Do what you think is best, Ami."
"What?" Ami looked at her in puzzlement. "Mother?"
Sayuri smiled, tapping Ami over the heart. "You always had such a beautiful
heart. Follow it. I'm sure you'll make the right decision."
Ami felt some of the confusion lift from her as she hugged her mother
again.
On descending the stairs, leaving her mother to rest, Ami found herself
settling down and telling the tale of her mother's arrival at the castle,
the geas the Beast lay on her, and how she ultimately came to take her
mother's place. She did not say that the Beast had been enchanted, out of
ignorant fear of magic. Where the faerie were concerned, people reacted
badly, taking extreme measures where none were needed, panicking when they
most needed to be calm. She spoke no word of it to her silently astounded
audience, holding a mug of cider in her hands and watching her reflection in
the liquid. There was silence around the table, and watchfulness. After a
time, they left, Michiru hesitating to ensure that Ami was all right.
It ran late, the telling of the tale, as Ami tried to fill in questions
without giving away too many answers. She wanted the Beast to have his
privacy, and did not want half the village going to stare and whisper at the
gates.
Dark and dreary, clouds rumbling in the distance, Haruka and Michiru
trudged home, breaking away from the four men. Wordlessly, they headed for
Enchanting Books, following Zoicite's lead. The bell rang as they entered,
and Hotaru slipped in, carrying a box. "Zoicite?" she blinked at the faces.
"Kunzite? Everyone? What's wrong?"
"Nothing, Hotaru," Nephlite told her, leaning up against a bookcase,
folding his arms.
Hotaru looked at them carefully for a moment, the two cottars and two
forestmen, watching Jadeite pulling a chair up from a table, kicking his
feet up on to the top, leaning back on the legs, hands behind his head.
Kunzite was frowning from across the room, still armed with a quiver of
arrows, and Zoicite took a place across the table from Jadeite. They settled
in, dropping their weapons, dirk and dagger, and in Kunzite's and Nephlite's
cases, bows. None of them seemed very happy, and in fact appeared worried.
Hotaru slipped behind the counter, setting the overlarge box before her,
and silently went to work unpacking it, letting them forget she was there.
They would talk, and she would listen, taking in information in the least
obtrusive way she could.
It was Jadeite who broke the silence, rocking back on the chair's legs.
"Well, do you believe her, or is she just crazy too?"
"Ami is not crazy!" Zoicite growled, running his hands over his face in
irritation.
"Then you believe all that?" Jadeite replied, looking uncertain whether he
should be serious or not. " A Beast in the castle? It's madness."
"There are many things in the stars and the heavens," Nephlite offered
sagely. "What is unseen is not often unreal."
"Would you get over your whole the 'stars rule everything' fixation,
Nephlite?" Jadeite snapped. "Don't even think about it!" Jadeite slammed the
front two legs of the chair down before Nephlite could swipe the back two
out from under him, causing a crash. Nephlite smirked, folding his arms over
his leather vest, digging one boot into the ground. "Kunzite, you don't
believe all this, do you?"
The platinum haired forester frowned, and began to walk over, taking a
chair for himself at the table. A few stray locks of hair fell into his eyes
from where it had been clubbed back into a tail at his neck, tangled in his
hood. "I have to agree with Nephlite. I don't know what you farmers see, but
in the woods there are many things that walk in the shadows."
"You're all nuts. Believing in that stuff. Zoicite, you don't agree with
them...?" Jadeite tried, trailing off as he saw how hard the lines of
Zoicite's face were set. "So you do."
"I don't know what to believe," he clenched his fists on the table. "It's
madness, but Ami is the most level headed person I know. She's not likely to
be making up wild stories about monsters. And there's the fact that she was
wearing a different dress. She got it somewhere. And she's hardly been
starving. Someones' been with her, helping her."
Sighing, Jadeite held up his hands. "All right, all right, I believe you.
But playing devil's advocate, Ami is the daughter of a healer, and is a damn
fine one herself. She knows how to survive in the woods. And the dress,
well, maybe she did go to the old castle. Maybe she found it."
"We won't know until we go, will we?" Zoicite said, waiting for a response
from the other three. "We have to know. Beast or not, if there isn't we'll
know she's mad, and if there is..." he frowned, shaking his head. "She said
the Beast was not an enemy or to be feared. But monsters don't just roam
around for no reason."
Kunzite stood, chair scraping against the floorboards hollowly. "Then lets
go. See what lies in the castle. If it's dangerous, then kill it."
"Now?" Jadeite exclaimed.
"Afraid?" Nephlite grinned, straightening from his post on the bookcase.
"'Course not!" Jadeite bolted from his seat. "It's just that it's late and
going to rain."
"Afraid of water?"
"Nephlite, I'm going to kill-"
"Both of you!" Kunzite intercepted, standing between them. "Get your
weapons. We're going to the castle. Tonight. To put and end to this, one way
or another."
Hotaru watched through the store window as the four men returned to Ami's,
taking their horses. She watched them mount, swivel the horses' heads and
charge off into the dark of the village. Few candles were lit, and fewer
lanterns wove their way between houses and across the plaza. Hotaru made a
nervous gesture, tucking her hair behind her ears and began to pace, violet
skirts roiling around her as she paced.
A Beast? In the abandoned castle? And Ami had insisted that it was not an
enemy? What, then was it? They had seemed to think it could be evil, to kill
it if it was dangerous. That seemed sensible. But Zoicite had been right to
say that Ami was unlikely to make up stories. She was hardly delusional, and
from the glimpse that Hotaru had seen of her returning home, Ami had been
quite calm, and seemed unafraid. That was not the behavior of a terrorized
woman. What is unseen is not necessarily unreal. And no one went to the
castle anymore, with the whispers that it was haunted.
Whirling again in agitation, Hotaru placed a palm on the table as she
coughed several times, trying to clear her lungs. Finally she gasped in a
deep breath of cleansing air as the door to her father's room was pulled
wide, him emerging from it with a concerned look on his face. "Hotaru? Is it
an attack? Are you well?"
"I'm fine, Papa," Hotaru smiled, waving a hand and stepping away. "Just a
small fit."
"Are you worried about something? That's brought them on before."
Hotaru took several breaths, steadying herself as she considered her
options. She could do nothing, and hope that the men would behave
themselves, and not do anything foolish at the castle. Or she could do the
sensible thing, and speak to Ami. "Papa, I'm going to go see Ami. I'll be
back in a few minutes," Hotaru scurrying behind the counter, her father
watching as she pulled out a black shawl, tossing it over her head and
wrapping it around her hair and chest. "I'll stay warm, promise."
"Hotaru, it's late. You shouldn't...." he tried to protest as she was
hurrying for the door. "Hotaru!"
"I'll be back soon, Papa. Promise!" And he was left with the sound of the
doorbell ringing at her departure, heading out into the pitch that was
settling outside their store.
Ami nearly burned her fingers on the teapot when there was heavy thumping
on the clinic's door. Wiping her hands on a towel, she peered out the
eyehole, seeing the tiny, cowled form of Hotaru. She ripped the door open,
pulling the girl inside, who was shivering. "Hotaru! What on earth are you
doing out? It's late!"
"I'm all right, really! Please, stop!" Hotaru protested as Ami led her
closer to the fireplace to warm her. "Ami, I heard about the Beast."
Ami found herself frozen a moment, then returned to the steeping teapot,
which was whistling. Taking out three mugs, she poured a steaming cup for
Hotaru, handing it to her. "It's strong. Careful."
"Thank you. Ami, I heard about the Beast."
Not turning from her pouring, Ami asked, "And?"
"Was it real?"
Ami hesitated, considering. "Hotaru, you were reading the Lais, weren't
you?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember the lay of Bisclavret?"
"The Beast is a werewolf?"
Ami shook her head, placing one of the mugs on a tray, meant to be taken
upstairs to her mother. "Not exactly. You remember that Bisclavret was a
noble man, even though he was trapped in the body of a wolf?"
"Yes."
"The Beast is such a person, though he was once very empty of heart. And
that made him cruel and mean," Ami sat beside Hotaru on the bench, her eyes
becoming gentle in the remembrance. "But he's not that way anymore.
He's...very kind of heart. And beautiful of spirit," she placed her
fingertips on her lips as she glanced at the hearth, the orange glow
reflecting in her sapphire eyes, as they did in Hotaru's amethyst.
"Then you had better go, Ami. I'll watch your mother."
"Go?"
"Zoicite and Kunzite, Jadeite and Nephlite went to the castle to see if
what you were saying was true. And since it is, they may very well kill the
Beast."
Wind.
It tore through the short waves of her hair, sending it to a storm of azure
eddies, slapping at the paleness of her skin. The black cloak sailed out
behind her, whipping the air as she streamed along the pathway to the
castle, flying on Fleur's back. She would not let them hurt him! What could
they possibly be thinking? That she was mad, most likely, and that
infuriated her, setting her face into the stillness of the deep calm. Her
fingers were tensed around the reins, and she mercilessly kicked Fleur's
sides, urging her to faster speeds. The palfreys of the four men were far
faster than Fleur's steady pace, and they had a great lead on her. In the
distance of the trees, she saw the uppermost spires needle through the
treetops, jolting closer as Fleur raced.
Both of the gates had been pulled aside, hanging wide open, one dangling,
slightly unhinged as it had been when Fleur had jumped it. Four horses idled
along side, roped to the iron lattice work. Halfway up the bridge, Ami swung
from the saddle, Fleur turning aside as the weight on her back vanished. She
gathered her skirts up around her, whirling the blue cloth up into a hand as
she ran the length of the crossway. Rain began to spatter down on her,
covering her face, catching in her lashes.
Four figures emerged from the doors, one exclaiming in surprise to see the
stormy figure of Ami heading for them.
Zoicite grabbed her, pushing her back and away from the doors. "Ami, stop!
You don't know what you're doing!"
"What I'm doing? Zoicite, let go!" she struggled with him, his hands
clenching around her wrists. "Zoicite! Murderer!"
"Ami! Listen to me!" he struggled to contain her, and she kicked at him,
which resulted in the other three men restraining her. "Ami! Listen! Listen
to me!" She paused in her fight, staring at him, backing away into
Nephlite's chest. "Ami, he's dead. We didn't touch him. We found him, but
didn't touch him!"
"He's not dead!" Ami began to struggle, slipping out of Zoicite's grip. She
whirled to the other three faces. "He's not...Jadeite?" He looked to the
ground. "Kunzite?" Kunzite shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. Her last
hope. She croaked, "Nephlite?"
The brown haired man's face reflected pity. "He might have breathed."
She nodded, slowly backing away though their arms. Then she whirled,
running through the doors and into the castle. Lightning shattered the sky,
thunder roaring as the downpour began, a waterfall of rain.
"Ami!" Zoicite began after her, and found his way barred.
The doors had suddenly swung to an echoing close.
She heard the sounds of thunder roaring outside the castle's walls, and the
panes of glass that allowed light inside shuddered at the force of sound,
strobing as the lightning caught in a rapid pace. She passed though the pool
of red and blue and yellow fragments of light that the rose window poured
onto the ground, sending her light shadow over it as she ran. She passed the
clock and the portrait on the wall, the sad and lonely eyes of the boy
following her as she flew.
For a moment, she paused as she came to the hallway of many colored glass,
the spell of the Enchantress alight with the flashes of lightning from
without. "The spell must be broken...by his twentieth year....and there is
not enough...time," she whispered it to the panels of glass.
The final panel, the blank sheet of cloudy imagery, had begun to coalesce,
the swirls solidifying. And in it, she saw the iron rimmed body of the
Beast, lying on the ground. It was gently lined, the borders of the image
indistinguishable from the shards of solidity.
Gong....
The first stroke of midnight rang from the grandfather clock in the hall.
Before anymore of the mosaic could form, setting it into history and
finality, Ami turned and ran for the life of the Beast.
The puddles of water on the walkways splashed up around her ankles as she
ran, feet striking hard against the stones.
Gong....
The gazebo was in sight. He was there, as she knew he would be. He had been
waiting for this, and it was the only place that made him happy. It was
where he planned to die. That was why he had kept it beautiful. The roses
were dying around him, those that did not fall white and red curling into
black on their stems, then dropping to their deaths on the ground.
Gong....
Not enough time. She slid down beside him, seeing the slight and low rise
of his chest as he took in a shallow breath of air, expelling it minutely.
Taking his face in her hands, she turned him to look at her, and saw the
closed eyes open into narrow slits.
"The curse...has come upon me," he told her, watching her as she peered
down at him.
The clock's low echo melted into the panicked ringing of the windchime
behind them, it frantically trying to cheer the tomb, but its frenzy lost in
the slamming of the sky and the blows of the clock.
His lungs took in a deeper breath, making his body shudder. "You should
know, Ami...that moment when I saw you...I did love you."
She heard the sound of the clock from within. She took up his hand and
laced her fingers though it, as she had when they had danced so much earlier
in that day, danced so beautifully, amid the roses of the garden that he had
meant for his grave. None from within could come to touch him, Minako
within the glass, Rei with her fiery hands, and Makoto, trapped within her
tiny realm. Serenity and Endymion within their painting. There was no one
for him. She tightened her fingers in his, and lay her head down on his
chest, closing her eyes and breathing in the same scent she had that
morning. And then she responded to the question he had proposed in that
happier moment of time.
"Yes, I will marry you. And in the moment I first saw you, I did love you."
Then the twelfth ring struck within the halls.
She felt, rather than saw, the petals fly up around them, as they kissed
her face in their hurricane of red and white, lifting her hair and cloak in
the wind. She clenched her hand in his, knowing that this was a part of the
spell, and thinking that it was the end, the death of the man in her arms.
The lacing of fingers that connected them grew both very hot and very cold
at once, as though unsure what it wished to do. Ami drew her eyes open, and
saw his body rise on the wind.
Within the castle, several odd things began to occur. Within a mirror, a
young red ribboned woman pressed her hand forward, and the solidity of the
polished surface stretched with her touch. Another more fiery figure of a
young woman began to shimmer her way upward and out, her body dimming as she
stepped forward. Within the kitchens, where a ghost dwelled, a pair of feet
began to emerge downward, tapping the ground as the figure solidified. And a
young man found himself emerging from a painting, offering his hand to the
woman in white with him, escorting her from their place on the mantel.
Within the gazebo, there was a blinding brilliance, that found its center
in the interlocked fingers of the two people in its center. Ami held on to
that hand in hers, feeling the fur between her fingers lessening, retracting
and reforming into soft, pliable skin. The touch linked them, and she felt
her own strength flowing like a river of water into him, a pure, healing
flood of light.
Her magic.
And it was very strong.
"I never did know your name."
"Urawa. My name is Urawa."
"Ami."
Then they said very little else for a very long time.
The Enchantress Speaks....
You may wonder, reader, what part this may play in the cycle of these
children's lives. You may also wonder, perhaps, what part this may play in
the future lives they will lead. As I share my own part, in a future of
crystal purity, these people will meet again, and if the wandering stars in
the sky see it fit, perhaps they will love each other once more.
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