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| When Orlando arrived at the pavilion in the evening, the Beast was already waiting for him. "You look pale. Are you sick, Orlando?" Shaking his head, the young man stared at the ground. "I don't know." The Beast cocked his golden head and watched him silently. While deep in thought he made a gesture as if wanting to lay his hand on the boy's arm. But the creature then caught himself and withdrew his hand, sighing regretfully. "I have realized how wrong it is to keep you here against your will." Orlando raised his head. He could hardly believe what he heard. "And you ask nothing of me in return?" The Beast looked him in the eyes. "That you promise to return when a week is over." Orlando's heartbeat quickened. "I promise." The Beast took the youth by the hand. "Now come, Orlando, I want to show you something. Do you see this secret chamber? It's the pavilion of the goddess Diana. This is the only place on my premises where no one is allowed to enter. Everything I possess has come to me through magic. And here, in this shrine, all my possessions are locked. This is the key to open the door ..." The Beast put an intricate, gilded key into the young man's hand and closed his paw around the fingers. "Take it. I could give you no greater proof of my trust in you than by this: I will die if you do not come back. After my death the spell will be broken. It will no longer be dangerous to enter the pavilion and you can easily access all my riches." Orlando looked at the Beast in wonder. The creature would die if I did not return? he mused, bewildered, and a strange ache touched his heart at this thought. Yet he chose to ignore the sentiment, quickly setting his mind on different matters. “So you'll really let me go home to see my family?" “Take this glove; when you put it on, it will take you wherever you want in an instant. Just one more thing: do not be surprised. You will notice that the time in my world passes differently." Bowing, the Beast looked at the young man one last time. "Remember your promise, Orlando. Farewell." Orlando opened his mouth and then shut it again. This had come quite unexpected. All of a sudden, there seemed to be so many things he should have asked or said. There was still time, but the words did not pass his lips. So he just nodded his farewell and then put on the glove. Almost at the same moment he was in his old room at home again. Quickly he ran down the stairs. In the living room the merchant sat in an armchair, snoring peacefully. His hair was completely white. It seemed he had aged greatly during his son's absence. Orlando knelt down in front of him, gently touching his hand. "Wake up, Father." The father opened his eyes. "Am I dreaming? Is it you, Orlando?" The young man smiled. "No, Father, this is not a dream, it is really me." "We thought you were dead! Oh, my son, you can't imagine what it means to me seeing you healthy and alive. I have always felt such guilt for having left you behind." The old man put his hands on the young man's shoulders. "How did you manage to escape at last?" "The Beast allowed me to visit you." The merchant nodded thoughtfully. "It is hard to believe. But apparently even the Beast has a heart." "Father, he suffers greatly. One half of him is constantly struggling with the other. I believe he is more cruel to himself than to anybody else." The merchant frowned at these words reverberating with a notion of compassion. Remembering his brush with death over a simple rose, the old man shivered. “Though part of him is still a hideous monster.” "Yes, it is true, he is terrifying. But he has treated me kindly during my captivity and sometimes his eyes are so sad that I pity him.” The father shook his head in disbelief. "Orlando, please do not tell me that you intend to go back to live with this fiend?" "I must, Father. I would commit a crime against him, and against you, if I broke my promise." "Did he threaten you?" "No, never. He only comes to me when I do not have to fear his animal nature. Sometimes his demeanor is regal as if he once was a King or a High Lord ... At other times, however, he drags himself through the empty corridors of his château as though he were suffering from some evil spell." “Yet he would have slain me for a simple flower. And what about you? He has kept you a prisoner all these years, far away from home and family. How can you pity him?” "Because while I live here in peace and without trouble, he carries pain and suffering with no cause! I can see his heart, and I can make him forget how ugly he is. And actually …" he stopped in mid-sentence. The merchant sighed. "You pay a high price for being so good." Remembering the dream he’d had the previous night and how he had reacted to it, the young man shook his head. "No, the Beast is good. I am not." Hearing these words, a tear fell from the boy's eyes onto the father's hand and transformed itself magically into a diamond. "Good God! A diamond!" cried the father, touching Orlando's cheek where another tear glistened. "And here's another one." Orlando smiled. "This proves that there is a mighty spell at work here. I thought of him when I wept." The father was wary and put the diamonds aside. "Maybe the Devil sent these diamonds." "No, Father, keep them. They are a gift from him and I am sure you will find a good way to use them; they will fetch a high price. Now, how did you fare while I was away? What do you mean when you said I was away for years? I could not have been away for more than a few weeks.” The merchant shook his head sadly. “Oh, my dear boy. You thought you were away for only a few weeks? It is not so.” Orlando looked around in the sparsely furnished room. Where had the tapestries gone and all the silverware? He took his father’s hands in his. “How are my sisters?" *** As soon as Vianne and Mirande had heard their brother's voice they came running. The young man's eyes shone with happiness when he embraced the two young women. "My lovely darlings – I feared I'd never see you again." He stepped back a bit to look at his sisters. "How have you grown! And you have both become even more beautiful! You must have suitors on each finger." Vianne the younger of the two looked down embarrassed. "Oh, Orlando, we are poor. Men would rather look at a girl's dowry than at her face." Mirande, the older one, a lively maid with a wild red-golden mane, took her brother's arm. "Each at its proper time. We manage quite well as it is – without husbands." She cast a scolding glance at her sister, "The most important thing is that you are back now." "Yes," agreed Vianne merrily, taking her brother's other arm. "You have to tell us everything, Orlando. How have you been all this time?" Orlando took the key from his vest. "Here, look. The creature gave me the key to all his riches. He trusts me." "But how did you live at this castle out there in the forest? Does he have many servants?" "No, we are on our own all the time. Invisible hands serve and dress me. The doors open and close by magic. I never saw anybody else." Mirande frowned. "And this Beast, this creature, does he speak like a human being?" "Yes, he speaks just like you and me." "Does he crawl on all fours? What does he eat? What does he drink?" Orlando hid a small smile. "Sometimes I let him drink from my hands. I know that he'd never hurt me." *** The days flew by like nothing. On the afternoon of Orlando's last day the two sisters were sitting in the garden. Vianne let the needlework drop in her lap and looked anxiously at her sister. "I cannot stand the thought of Orlando having to return tomorrow. If only I knew how we could make him stay." Mirande jumped up. "Ah, I wish I were a man. Then I'd go out and kill the Beast. Orlando wouldn't have to go back to him and all the treasures the Beast has hoarded at his castle would be ours." Vianne frowned disapprovingly. "Sometimes you almost sound like a man. Do not act like a fool. There must be spells to guard that magic castle. We might be turned into Beasts ourselves!” Mirande shook her head defiantly. "I do not believe in magic and evil spells. I think the Beast has hypnotized Orlando. There is no other explanation as to why our brother believes everything the Beast wants him to." Vianne sighed. "I fear for him." "You do not have to be afraid." Suddenly Orlando had appeared behind them. "I shall be safe." "But Orlando, why do you want to go back?" "Yes," Vianne chimed in immediately. "He is nothing but an animal. A cruel Beast! We are your family. You cannot leave us." "Do you think he will come to get you?" Orlando shook his head. "No, he has never used violence against me. He trusts me." "So what could happen if you do not go back?" Orlando looked at his sisters. They do not understand. They cannot. He thought, inhaling deeply. My heart tells me that the Beast will die. And if he dies it is all my fault." *** The rest of the day passed with laughter and long talks under blooming apple trees. "Stay, Orlando. Just one more week," Vianne said when the stars came up. They had lit a fire in the garden, and Vianne played the mandolin while they all sang old songs together. The father sat in between them with a content smile on his lips. "Do you not see how happy we are when you are with us?" Mirande said, taking her brother's hand. "I beg you, please, stay." "Alright," Orlando agreed, kissing her forehead. "But only one more day." The trees shimmered white in the pale moonlight and his heart weighed heavily. *** The following day passed just as quickly. The more time Orlando spent at home, the more his stay at the Beast's castle seemed like a dream to him. Another night came and went. The stars paled in the East and another day began. In the early morning haze a white horse trotted into the yard. Hearing the animal whinny, Mirande opened the door and ran outside. "What a beautiful horse, saddled and perfectly groomed. But where is its rider?" Both Orlando and Vianne had followed her. Instantly, Vianne saw the leather bag that was hanging from the saddle. "What is that?" The bag bore an intricate coat of arms with a lion's head. "I think this is meant for you," she said, handing it to her brother. Quickly Orlando opened the bag. "Yes, it is for me." He pulled out a small gilded mirror. "And it is clear what this means. Look into the mirror and you shall see the ugly face of a young man who has broken his promise." "Orlando, no…," Mirande replied quickly, reaching for him. But Orlando was already on his way back to the house; he ran up the stairs and into his room. He put the mirror on the bed and looked inside. As always he only saw his own reflection first, but then the mirror grew dark and cloudy before showing him the Beast. The creature looked at him with infinite sadness. His clothes were ragged; his whole appearance was no longer majestic. His eyes had lost their shine and his cheeks had sunken in. He looked ill. Clutching his breast and breathing hard, the Beast sank to the ground. "No!" Orlando cried, shaking the mirror in despair. But the image of the Beast was already fading. All he saw was his own face again. Without hesitating he ran over to his chest of drawers, took out the glove and put it on. Immediately he was back in his room at the château and in a wild haste, he hurried down the stairs to the Great Hall. Veils of silence hung in the corridors, as always. Orlando ran through the halls and galleries calling for the Beast, but the owner of the residence was nowhere to be seen. With each passing minute Orlando's heart beat faster and faster. "Where are you?" he cried desperately. "Answer me!" He dashed out of the château and into the park. At last he reached the small pond where he had once watched the creature drinking. At the edge of the pool he saw the Beast lying in the grass. He ran up to his former master and fell on his knees. "Beast! My dear Beast, please forgive me!" The creature did not move. Orlando put an arm around the Beast and pulled him closer. "Answer me, please! See, I have come back. And look, here is the golden key you gave me, and here is your glove. It will revive you with its magic powers." Quickly, he put the glove on the Beast's strong hand. "Please, help me. Wake up. You cannot leave me." Holding the motionless being close, he began to rock back and forth. Tears were running down his cheeks. "I am the monster. Not you." In that moment the Beast finally opened his eyes. "It is too late." Orlando cradled the creature gently in his arms. "I know how strong you are. Clutch at life and fight. Get up, roar loudly and fight death away. I know you can do it!" The Beast smiled weakly. He touched the boy's face with trembling fingers. "My dear Orlando …if I were a man, I would do as you say. But I'm just a poor Beast who knows nothing of life anymore. Or love. I only know that death will release me from this miserable existence.” Tenderly, the Beast looked at the young man one last time. Then he closed his eyes. "No, no, you cannot die," cried the boy. He bent over the creature and kissed him on the mouth lovingly. At that moment there was a loud noise and a twirl in the air. Orlando could see sparkles and swirling lights, but before he knew what was happening a strong wind from out of nowhere knocked him down. His head hit the ground and for a short moment the young man lost consciousness. Opening his eyes again, Orlando gasped. The Beast had disappeared! Instead of the ugly creature a tall, handsome man was standing next to the pool, dressed like a noble lord. Orlando rubbed his eyes. Could it be? The same features, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline, the same bold posture as the man whose portrait he had seen in the empty salon one night. “My lord,” Orlando stammered and bowed his head, utterly confused. Smiling, the man stepped up to the youth. “Get up, Orlando. The Beast is no more. It was I, King Viggo, who kept you prisoner.” “So you were not born a Beast?” The youth blurted, almost instantly regretting his audacity, feeling like a peasant in face of this regal appearance. Looking away he added in a low voice. “I almost suspected it, but I never dared to ask you about your past.” “Was I that terrifying?” King Viggo asked, looking down on his hands, as if expecting to still see the gnarled fingers and the thick fur. He sighed. “I guess I was. But you were right, I was not always a Beast.” “When I was born my parents bade the fairies to watch over me, the only heir to the throne, through all my childhood. In return they promised them riches, titles and high ranking offices at the court.” “The day I was crowned the fairies came to gather their prize. But instead of keeping their promise my parents mocked them and denied them their reward. That was a big mistake. The fairies grew angry.” ‘You avaricious, ungrateful creatures!’ they cried, ‘One does not mock us, nor deny us what is ours by right. You shall come to regret your decision.’ “And then, knowing there would be no harder punishment for my parents, the fairies changed me into a Beast. Only a kiss from someone who loved me could save me." Orlando rose to his feet, staring at the changed man in wonder. "But are such miracles possible?" The King took the young man’s hands. "Yes, we are proof of it. Love can turn a man into a Beast. But love can also turn an ugly monster into a lovable creature." Orlando inhaled shakily. "What is it? Are you sad that I'm no longer a Beast?" Orlando looked at him for a long while. The Prince had the same eyes as the Beast, nightgrey and fathomless. "I loved the Beast." The Prince smiled. "You are a strange boy, Orlando." Orlando smiled back diffidently. "It will take me a while to get used to you." The Prince touched the young man's face gently. "I have been living in exile here far too long. Will you come home with me to my kingdom? We can live there together in happiness. Your father and your sisters will be welcome too." "Is it far away from here?" "We'll be there in the blink of an eye." "I've been dreaming of you." Orlando blushed. "Of the Beast, that is." "You have?" the Prince said, pulling the boy closer. "Tell me about your dreams." Orlando's breath caught when King Viggo’s hands slid down his back. The young man’s voice dropped to a whisper. "I do not know if I can." "Then I will tell you of my own," the King said, kissing the boy's eyelids, his cheeks and then his mouth. "Once upon a time there was a Beast …" The golden key he is still clutching slips from the Orlando’s hand and the King's glove falls to the ground. “Is this a fairy tale we are in?” sighs the youth between kisses. “No this is real,” whispers the King, slowly sliding the shirt down the young man’s arms. The wind sings in the trees, carrying the dead leaves through the enchanted garden. Clouds and sky are reflected on the surface of the pond together with the image of the two lovers. The fairies look down from the trees … smiling. *** And if King Viggo and his Orlando did not die, they lived happily ever after *** |