Love Doesn’t Discriminate (Part V)
Authors’ Note: Hey guys! This is part 5 of the fic and we’re so happy to be sharing it with you. We’re very sorry that there has been such a long wait for this part and we certainly hope that this part makes all the waiting worth it.
Part I Part II Part III Part IV
“What in hell are you doing in my study?”
You held your breath. The beat of your heart in your chest began to race as fear surged through your veins. You could hear his feet stomping behind you, marking his full entrance into the room. The air around you seemed to grow warm in his presence as if the temperature rose from the sheer rage that slipped from him in waves.
His paw closed around your arm and you felt the prick of his claws against your skin. He tore you from the table with a sharp tug, spinning you to face him in the process. You stumbled backward in a mad scramble to get away from him. As you turned, your foot caught on the binding of a fallen book, and in a rush of air, you found yourself surging towards the floor. His grip loosened as you crashed down onto the cold wood.
As you reached out a hand to steady yourself, a nearby shard of glass embedded itself into your palm. You bit back the yelp of pain that rose to your tongue as you looked up, fighting to remain calm. Your fear began to multiply as you took in the sight of him above you, seeing the true beast he was for the first time.
His dark wings were spread behind him as though he were preparing to take flight. His face seemed to be caught between words and a snarl, sharp teeth glinting in the bits of moonlight that floated in from the window. One arm was raised, and you felt yourself begin to shake at the sight of his outstretched claws.
“Did I not say that this wing was forbidden?”
You could not halt the tremble that spread through your body at the ice that frosted his words, chilling you to the bone. His voice was deadly quiet; you could barely hear the words over the constant rolling growl that rumbled through his throat. Your mouth fell opened as you fumbled for words, but you could find no response that would satisfy him.
“You are nothing but an insolent little girl. I should have just killed you and been done with it. Do you think you are free to touch things that don’t belong to you?”
“I hardly touched it,” you whispered shakily. “I didn’t think-”
“No, of course, you didn’t. Do you have even half a brain in your head? You shouldn’t have touched it at all! You shouldn’t have been in here!”
You felt numb. You couldn’t speak and you didn’t dare move, so you only stared up at him from your place on the floor. When he began to take a step forward, you crawled backward, unsure of whether or not he’d try to hurt you.
“What are you still doing here,” he thundered, taking another step closer. “Get out, you stupid girl! Get out!”
You jumped to your feet, forcing yourself not to trip again as you sprinted towards the door. You turned down the hall, headed back the way you had come. His responding roar of anger followed you through the corridor, echoing off the walls and pulsing against your ears.
You ran all the way back through the castle, past the dining room and the blocked off corridors into the great hall. Darting for the front door, you swung it open, staggering back a step as a cold wind blew in from outside. A drift of snow flew in on the sudden breeze, coating the floor with a smear of white. You looked out across the gardens, all the flowers covered in ice and the trees laden with newly fallen snow. Taking a deep breath, you prepared to step into the freezing world beyond the castle when a frightening thought touched your mind.
If you left, broke your bargain with the beastly prince, would he go after your father?
He had threatened to, your first night in the castle. He had not broached the subject since that night, had refused to even acknowledge your father. But after having spent a few months in the castle, you wouldn’t put it past him.
You took a step back, letting the door fall from your fingers and listening to the lock as it clicked shut. Turning away, you began to trudge back to your room. Tears began to slip down your cheeks as you once again resigned yourself to your fate.
If it would spare your father his life, then you would gladly remain trapped here with the beast.
The Prince was still pacing his room when Leslie appeared in the doorway, a few minutes later. Hearing his footsteps, his head snapped up to glare at his advisor, eyes still bright with rage. Leslie didn’t shrink away from him, having grown used to his fits over the years.
“Why was she even allowed to get anywhere near here? Has no one been watching her like I ordered? Do you have any idea what could have happened if the rose was harmed?”
“Sire, no one will watch her,” Leslie replied calmly.
“No one will watch her. We all, myself included, believe you are being far too discourteous and ignorant to and about (Y/N). She is brave, kind, and generous; if you were still human, she would be exactly the type of girl you would have fallen in love with. So what exactly is your issue with falling in love with her now?”
The prince turned on his heels to face Leslie, a violent roar tearing itself from his throat, loud enough to match the one that had echoed through the castle only a few minutes earlier.
“How dare you speak so boldly to me! I am your prince, you would do well to remember that!” Leslie continued to stare at him, still unaffected by his rant. “And I don’t want to fall in love with her. She is only some idiot peasant girl, and I don’t care about this stupid curse either way!”
“If you didn’t care about it, why would you have any qualms about her harming the rose?”
The prince fell silent. He had no way to respond to Leslie’s question without damaging his already fragile pride. He had no intentions of making himself look even more unintelligent than he felt.
“Perhaps you should attempt to calm your temper and speak to her,” suggested Leslie, “without excessive growling or rudeness.”
He turned away from the open door, falling to his knees before the rose. He stared at it as it hovered tormentingly behind the glass, his mind wandering to the night it had been placed there.
“Leave me be,” he conceded, rubbing at his temple with one of his paws. Leslie sighed and turned away, beginning to walk down the corridor before he paused again.
“We all just want the best for you, Lin. Even if it doesn’t seem that way in times like these.”
You didn’t go to dinner that evening and were thoroughly surprised when the prince didn’t show up at your door demanding you come down. You spent the night hidden under the mountain of pillows on your bed anyways, too scared to fall asleep. Sunlight was beginning to filter through the window when you felt yourself drifting off, taking comfort in the safety of the daylight. Just when your eyes had closed, a sharp knock on your door startled you back into full awareness. Burrowing yourself deeper into the pillows, you waited for something to happen.
“(Y/N), dear. Are you awake? We’ve brought you breakfast.”
You breathed a sigh of relief to hear Renee’s voice calling your name. You slipped out from under your pillows and stifled a yawn as you made your way over to open it for her. Renee rolled in on the same cart you had seen her on during dinners, a full plate of food settled in front of her. Jasmine flew in behind her as you began to close the door and replace the lock.
“Good morning,” you said softly. Your throat was hoarse from crying through the night, leaving you barely able to get the words out. “What are you both doing here?”
“We came to see you, of course,” chirped Jasmine, fluttering around the cup of tea Renee was currently preparing. You smiled at them both as Renee nudged the cup towards you. Nodding gratefully, you picked it up and took a long sip, the warmth washing over you and soothing the pain in your throat. You had finished the whole cup before regarding them again; they both sat there, waiting for you to speak.
“Why are you risking your prince’s affection when he has forbidden you all from speaking to me?”
“The prince is misguided,” Renee said gently. “These years have been hard on him.”
You stood in silent contemplation as you stared at her, and were unable to stop the frown that broke out on your face.
“He is a monster,” you hissed to yourself before raising your voice. “You defend him when he is so cruel to all of you?”
“The form of a monster may have inflicted some wounds upon his soul, but the man you have seen is not who he truly is. I will not defend his actions, dear. In fact, I condemn them entirely. But he is only a shell of his former self. If you were able to know him as the man he was…”
Her voice trailed off as you continued to stare at her, but she did not draw her eyes away. Jasmine looked between the two of you, holding her tongue while Renee spoke. You turned your gaze on her as she began to move, busying herself with dusting off the mantle of the fireplace. Renee breathed out a short sigh and nudged the plate of food towards you before hopping off the cart. You watched as she slid to the floor, the gilded handles moving to help her down.
“I know you don’t believe me, (Y/N). I only hope one day you will understand. I’ll leave you to your breakfast.”
You watched as she turned away, and you moved to unlock and open the door as she left.
“Renee,” you called after her. She stopped short and turned to face you. “Thank you, for everything.”
Renee smiled at you and began to move away once more.
A small gust of wind had you turning your head. Jasmine hovered near your shoulder, smiling at you sympathetically.
“He acts a monster, but Renee is right. And you mustn’t be too hard on her either. She helped to raise him whenever his parents were away.”
“Oh,” you murmured. You had, of course, had no idea. You immediately felt guilty for your thoughts about her defense of the Prince and attempted to push the guilt away before it could overwhelm you.
“Well, I have a date with Anthony in the library, so I must be going. I hope you have a better day, (Y/N).”
And then she was gone, a trail of tiny white feathers the only sign she had been there. You closed the door behind her and locked it once more. Focusing for the first time on the plate of food, you realized how hungry you were. You picked it up and took it back to your bed, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you began to eat.
You were just finishing the last of the food when there was another knock on your door. Before you had a moment to react, the lock clicked open, the swing of the door following closely behind. It was no surprise to you when Pippa walked in, the door falling shut on its own behind her as she stepped over to you. Your face lit up in a bright smile when you saw her, your plate being set to the side as you stood and rushed over. She wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug.
“Are you alright, (Y/N)? I heard about what happened last night, did he hurt you?”
“No, of course not,” you objected. You watched as she checked over you for wounds, fretting like a mother hen over every hair she found out of place. “Pippa, honestly, I’m fine. Nothing happened. He just scared me was all. He’s a brute, but he hasn’t harmed me.”
“He better not,” she huffed, finally moving away from you. She kept a hand on your arm as she smiled at you, her other hand moving to push a few strands of hair from her eyes.
“Thank you, Pippa. I am lucky to have you as my friend.”
A slight blush crept over her cheeks as her head bowed. You laughed softly and moved away, settling back onto the bed as she looked over at you.
“Speaking of friends, what is Jonathan doing outside your door?”
“Who is Jonathan,” you questioned. You had never come across anyone by that name over the course of your stay so far, although you had not ventured out of your room very often.
“Lord Jonathan Groff, of the Southern Isles. He was a personal friend of the prince who happened to be here when the castle was cursed.”
“The Southern Isles? I’ve never heard of any place with such a name.”
“It isn’t a real place,” Pippa stated matter-of-factly. “It was a place he made up when he and the prince were little as part of a game. The title has stuck ever since.”
“A friend of the prince,” you mused. “Sent to watch me.”
“Relax, (Y/N). Jonathan is one of the kindest men you’ll ever meet.”
She danced over to the door and pulled it open, an arm reaching out to something you couldn’t see. A moment later, she had pulled a moving suit of armor into the room and was grinning like a little girl when she turned back to you.
“(Y/N), this is Jonathan. Jonathan, this is my friend (Y/N). I’m guessing the prince demanded you watch over her to keep her from wandering?”
“Yes, but he wasn’t in his right mind. I find such a task appalling. My apologies, Miss (Y/N). Although it is a pleasure to meet you at last. I have heard much about you, most especially from Pippa here.”
“From Pippa,” you demanded, pulling your eyes from him to glance at her. “I thought you made it a point to avoid everyone?”
“Jonathan is a friend,” she reassured you with another smile. You shrugged slightly and turned back to studying him.
He looked to be made of combined pieces of a suit of armor, all hovering in midair as though inhabited by a person. But upon looking through the cracks in the armor, you could only see the wall behind him. He bowed to you and then rose again, taking a few steps toward you and holding out his hand. You smiled and offered your own to him, trusting Pippa’s judgment. Jonathan brought it to his lips, or rather the hood of his helmet, as though he were kissing it, then released your hand with another bow.
“You are sweet, Lord Jonathan. In both actions and words. But I understand that you must follow the wishes of your prince.”
“Yes,” he acknowledged sourly. “He has demanded I follow you whenever you leave the room.”
“Then I suppose we are going to become fairly good friends. Although I would consider any friend of Pippa’s a friend of mine.”
“It would be my honor,” he replied with another bow. You smiled at him again and found yourself hoping that his words would bear true.
Oak stood silently beneath a crowd of trees, pulling his coat tighter around him to guard against the chill of the late autumn wind. His eyes didn’t leave Jefferson, who was huddled on the ground in a pool of fabric, his slim form overtaken by the bulk of the cloak that hung loosely from his shoulders. He knew the old man had been here every day since they had buried his daughter; Oak had no idea how he could stand to spend each waking hour staring with blank eyes at the writing on his daughter’s gravestone. It had been a dreary funeral, attended by only the three of them, along with the priest and the kindly man who owned the bookstore. It had rained that day, uncharacteristic of the time of year, but certainly fitting for the circumstances.
He had made another attempt this morning to speak to Daveed. It had gone just as well as the others, ending with a door slammed closed in his face and the distant sound of undignified sobbing from the window. He hadn’t realized just how deeply (Y/N)’s death would affect his friend. While he knew Daveed had been fond of her, he had questioned his actual love for the girl. His doubts melted away as he observed the proud man’s devastating breakdown.
Oak’s attention turned back to Jefferson, still hunched over the stone, now with his hand raised to caress the top of it. He had made it his mission to watch over the heartbroken father, knowing that (Y/N) had been all he had left. He knew from his experiences the past couple weeks that Jefferson had been here since sunrise. Oak looked up, noting the placement of the sun in the sky; it was mid afternoon already. He ought to be heading home soon. Stepping away from the trees, he made his way over to the old man, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“You’ve been here for hours, Jefferson. Let me help you home.”
A short sigh filtered out through Oak’s nose. From his delirious tone, Oak was positive that he hadn’t been sleeping. The man had been hit hard by his depression, losing sleep and ignoring food when he needed it the most.
“It isn’t your fault,” Oak whispered softly, crouching down to get closer. “There was nothing you could have done.”
“I should’ve protected her,” moaned Jefferson. “I never should have left her. This is all my fault.”
“This isn’t your fault,” he repeated. A sob choked its way out of Jefferson’s throat, his shoulders curling in on him as he wept. Oak felt the sharp sting of tears against his eyes as he moved his hand, patting the man on the back in a confused gesture of comfort. “This is not your fault.”
“Oh, (Y/N),” Jefferson said brokenly. “Please forgive me.”
Authors’ Note: Come tell us what you think about this part of LDD. We love feedback and we are always happy to chat with you guys.
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