Beastly - A Beauty and the Beast Faberry Fic - Epilogue
And so we finally close the book. Read it on ff.net over here
It took Rachel some time to once again become accustomed to the castle. To be specific, it was the castle’s inhabitants that threw her off. She was just so used to being the only human in the place, and now there were about a hundred of them running around. She had to re-learn everyone’s expressions and putting names to faces. She actually didn’t mind that so much, especially when it came to re-learning her love – Quinn was somebody she could stare at for hours. She was glad that Quinn seemed to feel the same about her.
After Finn’s death, nobody dared return to the castle, leaving it to once again fall away from the memories of the villagers. And that was just fine with everyone else involved. It turned out things were actually much easier for the castle when nobody outside of it knew of its existence. And Quinn would go to her grave swearing that that was the only reason why she invited Hiram and Emma to live with them – not at all because Rachel had asked for it.
They set up a workshop for Hiram where the dungeon was, since they decided there was no longer a need for it. It only took him a week to feel comfortable enough to actually go inside it. He became the castle’s personal inventor, eventually creating a light source that didn’t need going from room to room to douse every night. Kurt was ecstatic.
Emma was given a job as a consultant of sorts. She would help Rachel, Quinn, Hiram, and the servants with any sort of troubles they had. And she was relatively good at the job, too. Just as long as she didn’t use magic.
Jesse still didn’t have much of a role in the castle, but Quinn had promised that if there ever came a time where the kingdom needed ruling, again, he would be the one to step forward. He acted indifferent about the arrangement, but he couldn’t have accepted the offer fast enough. He had to admit, he always liked the sound of King Jesse.
Tina fell back into her routine of being Quinn’s personal helper rather easily. And she was a lot more outgoing than she used to be. Her only trouble was getting lost in the castle, but she was easy to find most of the time.
After years of playing the royal advisor nonstop, Kurt decided it was time to take a much-needed vacation. Quinn was a little worried, until she realized his “vacation” just consisted staying at the castle to eat, sleep, and catch up with the tailors. And sometimes he’d take a break from his busy schedule to bicker with Jesse.
Ms. Jones was tempted to leave the castle and set out on a new path. She got as far as getting a job as a barmaid in the tavern, and getting thrown up on by one of the drunkards, before deciding that she really did belong in the castle. It was where all her friends were, anyway. And nobody ever vomited on her.
And nothing changed with Brittany, just like Brittany didn’t change after the curse was cast.
After things started to settle, and everyone seemed to finally get back into their normal routine, Quinn came up with a decidedly wonderful idea. She waited to talk about it until one night, after she and Rachel had readied themselves for bed in their newly renovated royal chamber.
“I want to take you on a trip,” she said simply, after snuggling into their bed.
“Really, where?” Rachel giggled into her lover’s hair as Quinn started to playfully nip at her neck.
“Somewhere…far, far away,” she smiled into Rachel’s neck as she felt nimble fingers run through her hair. “Anywhere. Wherever you want to go.”
Rachel stayed silent for a while, basking in the warmth of Quinn lying next to her. They’d only been together like this for a few weeks, but she found that they both easily slipped into the married life. The happy and tear-filled (mostly due to Rachel and Kurt, but Quinn couldn’t deny the stinging of her eyes) ceremony was held in the castle, and hosted by Emma. Afterwards, things had still been too hectic for Quinn to leave the castle as it was, so they never had the chance to officially celebrate their newfound union. But things finally got back to the way they were, and apparently Quinn was ready to travel.
“Anywhere, hm? Can we…sail across the nearest ocean and see where the waves take us?” Rachel’s eyes twinkled playfully.
Quinn shrugged, “I can buy a boat.”
“Can we take a carriage ride until the horses have to rest, and stay wherever we stop?”
“We might have to bring some extra supplies.”
“I’ve always wanted to be among the stars.”
Finally, Quinn paused. “That might be a little more difficult.”
Rachel laughed softly as they both snuggled closer to each other, fending off the cool winter air that was seeping through the poorly-repaired window. The one thing the castle didn’t have at its disposal was a better than decent glassmaker. But the winter was already starting to give way to warmer days, so they didn’t mind much.
Under the covers, one of Rachel’s hands found its way to a bare and pale stomach. “First thing in the morning, we’ll pack up a carriage. Then we’ll eat breakfast, say goodbye to everyone, and then set off on our adventure. We’ll go wherever the horses take us.”
Though her head was now completely out of the conversation, Quinn replied in hitched breaths, “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
Rachel’s eyes darkened as a wide grin spread across her face, “I’m glad you think so.”
Beastly - A Beauty and the Beast Faberry Fic - Chapter Six
And here's the (very small, compared to the others) chapter on ff.net
She had gotten there in time to see the hunter, whoever he was, toss aside the wolf that had jumped on Rachel. She watched as he withdrew his musket and fired at the hungry pack. There was an urge, a brief flash within the beast, to run over and maul him. Hide his body and take credit for being Rachel’s savior. But she stood still, and she watched. And when she saw Rachel hug the man, something gurgled deep inside of her, and she let it out the best way she knew how. She only hoped the two were too far away to hear her howl.
The trek back to the castle was slow, cold, and if she were being honest, lonely. At her arrival, Kurt, Ms. Jones, Jesse, and Brittany all stared up at her, and then at the castle’s entrance, all with the same hopeful and expectant look. When they saw no sign of Rachel, their faces morphed and mirrored the look of guarded defeat on the beast’s countenance.
“She walked off with some hunter,” was all she would offer as explanation before stalking off to the comfort of her parlor.
Her servants, of course, followed after her. They asked a myriad of questions that jumbled together into a singular annoying buzz. She ignored them all, slumping into her chair and rolling her eyes as they surrounded her.
“You could always go to the village and bring her back,” Kurt’s voice broke out from the crowd, the sound of defeat only barely hidden by the reassurance in his voice.
Quinn’s response was a dry laugh and a cold glare, marked with the slap of reality across her servant’s face, “What, and have the townspeople see me and form an angry mob? I’m a monster; people don’t tend to look upon me with kindness.”
They were all quiet for a moment as realization set in. They had lost. It had taken years for anyone to wander into the castle, and it was mere chance that brought Rachel there. The gardenia’s magic was fading fast and the petals were already falling. It was only a few months until the beast’s 21st birthday, and after that they’d be stuck like this forever. Any hope that the beauty had brought with her had dwindled away to nothing as the five of them sat in the darkness of the parlor.Er seHer
The beast slowly turned her head away from her workers, hiding her face. While most of them took that as a sign to leave, one decided to stay behind.
As the others left, Brittany swished closer to the beast and gave her a sad smile. “It’s okay if you miss her,” she said before turning around and following the others.
All the beast could say was, “I don’t.” And she didn’t. It was impossible to miss someone you never got to know.
She was just so tired. Any optimism she had left was stolen by a gangly man in too short pants and a beaten up musket.
She used to believe that it would be easy to lift the curse. In the beginning, she thought that all she had to do was sit in the castle and wait for someone to come. Surely, the village past the forest would realize that the princess was missing. One day, her hero would come, they’d fall in love, and everything would be happily ever after. Eventually, after months when no one came, the beast realized that she, along with the castle, had been easily forgotten.
When that plan had failed, the beast and her servants tried to think of something new. The thought had come to Kurt, as he recalled the night they met the enchantress, that it was never said that she couldn’t fall in love with one of the workers. So, one by one, she shared in the company of her servants, hoping that one of them would secretly be the key to their freedom. And every time she was left both disappointed and annoyed. The only time she had felt anything beside boredom and contempt was when she was with Tina, but it was merely from not seeing her as often as the others. While it had helped the beast discover that she preferred the company of women, this plan also proved fruitless.
Soon, all the servants had given up hope, and the beast closely followed suit. But in the darkness of her chamber, she’d spy on the village through her magic mirror, still silently entertaining the idea that luck would one day be on their side. She never mentioned it to them for fear of having her only company grow to resent her – more than she thought they already did.
It got to a point where the beast wasn’t sure if she’d even know how to act around a human if the opportunity struck. She’d had years of training, etiquette lessons, back when she was still human, but that meant nothing after years of isolation. When Hiram had come to the castle, it was quickly understood that any of her learned politeness had left her. She had calmed herself and at least tried with Rachel, but apparently that still wasn’t good enough.
Rachel’s presence had charged everyone’s spirits, but none more than the head of the castle. To see a human again, and one that the beast thought rivaled her own beauty. It did more to her than she’d like to admit. And her laugh was…slightly unconventional, but it was the most joyous sound the beast had ever heard.
She yawned and stretched out her arms far past the chair. She went to her chamber, and only briefly paused when she glanced at the mirror that rested on the table, wondering briefly if Rachel had made it out of the forest, before shaking herself and moving to her bed, slumping in the comfortable wreckage. Perhaps she missed Rachel after all.
Beastly - a Beauty and the Beast Faberry Fic - Chapter Two
Madame Hudson, can't you just see it?
As always, this chapter can also be found on ff.net
In the village, inside that cottage on the edge of town, Rachel tried to keep herself from worrying about her father. She’d cleaned the cellar, tended to the family’s animals, finished reading her recent book, and was currently practicing her scales. Though no matter how busy she kept herself, she couldn’t help but wonder how he was fairing at the convention. She was about to give up and embrace her mild panic when a knock came from the door.
She crossed the room and threw the door open. There was Finn, with a queasy sort of smile, standing in front of her, and what appeared to be a small party a little ways behind him. Finn barged into the cottage, lightly pushing Rachel out of the way and closing the door.
“Hello, Rachel,” Finn greeted in a shaky voice, rubbing his hands against his pants.
“Hello, Finn. Is there…anything I can help you with?”
The tall man started pacing, all the while grabbing at his clothes and running hands through his hair, often times staring at various reflective surfaces in the cottage. “I’ve been thinking…”
“Well, that isn’t like you at all,” Rachel muttered.
“I know, I know…but there’s something that’s been annoying me for days.”
Suddenly, Finn stopped in front of Rachel, so close to her that she nearly broke her neck to look at his face. Still, she gave him a pleasant smile, as if to coax him to carry on with his business.
“You should be my wife,” he stated as if that were all the explanation she needed.
In silence, they stood in the middle of the cottage; awkward smiles and sweaty, meaty hands and a nearly broken neck.
A flatly spoken, “What,” was Rachel’s only response.
“Marry me,” Finn said as he grabbed Rachel’s hands. “You and I are the most eligible bachelors in the village. Or, at least I am. And I think we would get along great together. For us to not marry is simply…nonsensible!”
“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘insensible,’ Finn. Actually, I think the word you’re looking for is ‘nonsensical,’ but I suppose either work fine.” Rachel seemed to have lost him with her miniature ramble, but after she gave him a tight smile and raised her eyebrows, he seemed to realize that she was done.
“So you agree!” Finn happily exclaimed as he started to drag Rachel to the door. “Then we should hurry, the whole town is waiting!”
With a small oomph, Rachel managed to stop Finn just before they got to the door. He turned around, confusion clear on his face, and attempted to listen as Rachel explained herself.
“Finn, while I am incredibly flattered by all of this, I just don’t see us working out. And don’t you think this is moving too fast? We haven’t gone on a date, yet. We haven’t even kissed!”
“We’ll have plenty of time for dating after the wedding, but if you really can’t wait for a kiss…”Finn eagerly leaned forward in an attempt to kiss the beauty, and before she could clearly plan out her escape, Rachel quickly dodged the man and opened the cottage door.
Finn clumsily fell forward, past Rachel, through the doorway, and onto his face. The crowd outside stopped what they were doing and stared at the man as Rachel quickly slammed and locked the door. Blaine hurried to Finn’s side and attempted to help him up and dust him off, but Finn just pushed the shorter man away.
“I guess it didn’t go so well, huh?” Blaine asked, and Finn just glared down at him and walked away, leaving Blaine to quickly follow.
Rachel blew her bangs off her forehead with a strong puff of air, thankful to hear her unexpected guests packing up and leaving. Who did that pig-headed brute think he was, practically demanding that she settle down in some no name town like this one? Though, Rachel supposed she should thank him, since his stunt helped take her mind off of her father, if only for a little while. When she was certain that everyone had left, Rachel carried on with her chores, grabbing a bucket of feed and heading outside to visit with the animals.
While outside, she raved and ranted and quite possibly frightened the chickens. She was meant for things beyond this little town, and she knew it. She just wished that somebody else besides her or her father would see it. From a distance, she heard a faint gallop, and she wondered who would possibly want to bother her, this time. The gallop quickly increased in volume as the family horse made his way to Rachel.
“Philippe,” Rachel happily called out. At the first sight of the horse, she was overcome with relief, but when she saw that her father was nowhere in sight, panic began to swell within her.
She raced toward Philippe and noticed that her father’s machine was still loaded onto the horse’s cart, left battered from the journey. The horse’s spooked behavior calmed some as Rachel approached him, allowing her to unhook the cart from his harness.
She gently patted his muzzle as he huffed out slightly distressed breaths, “Philippe, what happened? Where’s dad?”
The horse shook out his mane and turned away from Rachel, heading back to the path he came from. Rachel understood what was happening and ran after the horse, mounting him and letting him carry her down the trail, hopefully to where her father was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The trip took longer than necessary, since Philippe was a little wary to go back down the path. The night had crept closer and closer as they traveled, and Rachel wasn’t sure what time it was when they reached their destination. A gasp wedged into Rachel’s throat as she gaped at the castle off in the distance. Why she wasn’t aware of its existence until now, she didn’t know. True, the castle was sure to have seen better days, but it still stood tall and proud with a certain obscure elegance.
As she and Philippe neared the castle’s gate, she noticed there were obvious signs of struggle. The lock to the gate was open, and Rachel hoped that that only meant good things for her father. She grabbed a hold of Philippe’s reins and pulled the protesting horse to the gate.
“Come now, Philippe, we have to find Dad, and I’m not leaving you here. Who knows what might get to you.”
With the memory of the wolves, Philippe galloped past Rachel and into the castle grounds. Rachel closed the gate and moved forward, observing the overgrown gardens of rose and witch-hazel that were surely once beautiful things. Scum covered the tops of fountains, and a few crows stared at her from the tops of the fountains’ decorations. She shook off the feeling of being judged by them as she trudged forward into the castle, leaving Philippe behind.
The disrepair of the outside did not match the castle inside, Rachel realized, as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Inside, it was the type of castle she dreamt of when she was a little girl. She would imagine her very own prince charming that would sweep into her life and whisk her and her father away to his home, where she’d spend her days happily performing for royalty. When she brought herself back to the present, she realized that that was far from her current situation.
She held her breath and picked a hallway to start with. She called out to her father as she slowly explored the castle, but only ever heard her echo in reply. Wherever she walked, she always had to ignore that bizarre sense of being watched. Eventually, she came upon a hallway where lush red carpet gave way to cold cobblestone. She lightly swallowed, and with shaky feet, followed the path into an encroaching darkness far deeper than the rest of the castle.
Up against the wall, she followed the winding walkway until she found a heavy wooden door. Rachel pressed her ear close against it and focused. When she heard a familiar hacking cough, she barged into the room.
Much like the hallway, the dank room was shrouded in darkness, save for a small stream of moonlight coming in through a barred up window. Once again, Rachel called out for her father, only this time her name and a loud cough came in reply. She followed the sound of Hiram’s coughing fit, only to find him locked up within a cell, like a caged animal.
Before she could ask him what happened, Hiram reached through the bars and clasped Rachel’s hands in his, “Listen to me, Rachel. Before it’s too late, you have to get out of here. There’s something wrong here.”
“I’m not going anywhere until we get you out of here,” Rachel protested.
“He stays in the dungeon!” Rachel jumped at the booming voice behind her, and quickly spun around to face the shadowy figure before her.
She was tall – taller than Finn – and intimidating, much like her castle. Her figure was rather burly but definitely female judging by the pitch of her raspy voice. That was all Rachel could tell by the woman’s partially hidden presence. And it terrified her.
Despite the chill in her spine warning her to leave now, Rachel stood her ground – albeit in a slightly more submissive nature than before, “Please, ma’am, this is my dad. He’s sick, he can’t just stay here!”
“Your father is a trespasser and he belongs in the dungeon! And if you don’t leave now, you will join him,” the woman let out a low growl and Rachel wondered how that was humanly possible.
“Sweetie, everything’s going to be fine, I promise. You go and I’ll…play dead so she doesn’t hurt me.”
“Now is not the time for jokes, Dad,” Rachel scolded her father before quickly turning back to the woman. “I’ll give you anything, just please let him go.”
“Someone is going to pay for your father’s crime, and if it’s not going to be him, then it’s going to be you.”
The room was tense as both the shadowed woman and Hiram waited for Rachel’s reply; Hiram prayed that his daughter would just run away and never look back.
“…I’ll do it,” Rachel’s voice was quiet but sure.
“Rachel, no! What about your future?”
“My future isn’t worth risking your life over.”
“You’re really going to do this?” the woman sounded astonished. She started to step closer to Rachel, but thought better of it when she noticed the strip of moonlight. However, Rachel saw the woman’s reluctance and curiosity overcame the rest of her current emotions.
“Step into the light…please,” Rachel called out into the darkness. The woman hesitated, and then slowly moved forward, her visage bathed in moonlight. It was a vision that nearly made her scream.
Standing before Rachel was some type of hideous beast. She seemed like a crossbreed of lion, wolf, bear, and possibly more. There was no telling where ungroomed fur ended and thick muscle began. Her overgrown fangs sparkled and had points just as sharp as the horns sprouting from her head. If it weren’t for her ability to stand on two legs or talk, Rachel would have thought that this was just another wild beast that belonged in the woods. But the things that struck her the most were the beast’s eyes. They were almost feral, bright with anger, but just behind that, there was something there that Rachel couldn’t decipher.
At the woman’s gawking, the beast seized forward to Hiram’s prison. She gripped the door in her gigantic paw and ripped it from its hinges.
With a deafening roar, the beast yelled, “Get out!” and she threw the door across the room. Hiram scrambled to freedom, looking back one last time, only to see his daughter being picked up by the beast, and he swore that wouldn’t be the last time he saw his Rachel.
The beast’s movements were swift and deliberate as she carried Rachel out of the dungeon. She tried to focus on her surroundings, but her body jostled with every step the beast took. She thought she saw something following them down the halls, but she wasn’t certain until she heard them calling out to the bounding monster.
“Don’t hurt her!” was yelled by a feminine, but decidedly male, voice.
“Do you always have to act like an animal?” questioned a man.
“She could be the one!” a woman happily shouted to no one in particular.
Before she knew it, Rachel found herself in a simple bedroom, luxurious compared to her room in the cottage. She was gently placed onto the carpeted floor, and silently thanked whoever scolded the beast during their trip. Just outside the bedroom door, there were quiet murmurings, but blood was rushing too fast through Rachel’s head to make anything out. The beast turned her head to the noise and quickly turned back to Rachel.
“You will sleep here. I would…” the murmurings started again, and the beast quickly turned towards them and back again, “enjoy it if you treated this place as your home.” Her voice was stilted and uncomfortable, yet it had a polite sound that Rachel couldn’t enjoy. “And you will join me for dinner…that isn’t a request!”
With that, she slammed the door and left Rachel alone with her thoughts of never being able to see her father again. On the other side of the door, the beast threw a glare at the candelabra, grandfather clock, and feather duster that stood there. Only Kurt and Jesse seemed phased, and the duster swept forward, “She’s really pretty…”
“Hush, Brittany,” the beast grumbled.
Kurt cleared his throat, “I’m glad you took my advice, your majesty. I must say, giving her the room was a nice touch. You must really want her to feel comfortable.”
“I really don’t,” her voice was low in warning.
Jesse scoffed, “Then why give her the room in the first place?”
“Because…Because I broke the cell in the dungeon!” she yelled and stormed off.
“We have more than one cell,” Brittany offered to the retreating figure.
Beastly - A Beauty and the Beast Faberry Fic - Chapter One
Look, there she goes, that girl is strange, no question...
It was morning, and the sun was just starting to rise above the quiet village. The only sounds were of birds chirping, and mechanical whirring that came from a small cottage on the far edge of town. And from that cottage appeared a beautiful young woman, loose brunette locks swaying with the wind. Quietly, she sang to herself as she followed the path into town, ready to start her day just like she always did: with a visit to the library.
It was just an average day in town. Like every day, the woman waved to the passing baker, bread tray in hand. There were shoppers and storekeepers, townspeople milling about. Despite the day being ever uneventful, the woman smiled. It wasn’t like the town was known for big news, anyway, so she begrudgingly accepted it in spite of her boredom.
It was a little town where everybody knew everybody. Even so, no matter what the size of the town was, everyone would still know Rachel.
As always, everyone said hello to her as she walked towards them, then whispered about her as she passed. They thought her odd; an odd girl raised by an even odder man. Rachel tried to pay them no mind. She’d tell herself that they were all just jealous because she had ambition and was destined for something great, and her father was a brilliant inventor. They thought her and her father were crazy for wanting more than the simple, provincial life.
And, yes, she talked to some sheep, once, but it was simply out of excitement from hitting her highest note yet, and nobody else wanted to hear about it.
Rachel got to the library at her usual time, and started browsing her frequented shelves. When she grew tired of her usual fanciful tales of adventure and epic love, she would read books about her first true love – music. Seeing such a book in the stack of new additions brought Rachel out of her dreary disposition. After shared pleasantries with the old librarian, Rachel thanked him and went on her way. With her nose thoroughly buried in the book, she started to make her way back home. That is, until, on this rather ordinary day, a rather unordinary thing happened.
When she got to the edge of town, Rachel felt a presence start to follow her, and then walk right beside her, towering over her and blocking the sun. She was about to say something when a rather large hand plucked the book from her grasp. With her field of vision no longer blocked, she could see that it was Finn who had been following her, along with his trusty, and much shorter, sidekick, Blaine.
“Good morning, Rachel,” Finn greeted with a lopsided grin.
“Good morning, Finn,” Rachel replied in a polite tone, eyeing the man as he flipped through her book.
Most of the people in town considered Finn to be the most handsome and most eligible bachelor the town had. Rachel could certainly see the appeal, in fact she always had. She could admit to admiring him from afar a few times, and even fancying the idea of becoming his wife. But it would never do. Rachel wanted adventure, she wanted to experience life to the best of her abilities, and Finn…Finn wanted three or four children in a cabin full of dead animals. Besides, there was always something about him that irked Rachel.
When Finn finished flipping through the book, he scowled at it. “How can you read this? The words are too long, and I think some of them are spelled wrong,” he muttered.
Yes, that was it.
Rachel rolled her eyes as she grabbed the book from his hands, “Those words that are ‘spelled wrong,’ as you put it, are in a different language, Finn. This is a book about music, and a lot of the terminology happens to be in a different language. It’s just one of the many reasons why I find music so…inspiring.”
She could have gone on, but when she looked up she noticed that only Blaine was half paying attention, whereas Finn was completely gone and had developed a glazed-over look in his eyes. Instead, she lightly cleared her throat, and that seemed to bring the man out of his stupor.
“I don’t see the point in reading unless you absolutely have to,” Finn said, furrowing his brow. “Like recipe books. That’s what women read, right?” he turned to Blaine, who merely shrugged.
“You are positively primeval, Finn Hudson,” Rachel gave a small huff.
“Uh, thanks…I think,” Finn accepted the…compliment, his face taking over a semi-constipated look. Rachel was about to continue on her way when Finn wrapped his arm around her, “Listen, I know I don’t normally talk to you all the time, or ever, but I noticed you in town today. And I don’t agree with everybody who says you’re too short or too loud, or too annoying or anything else like that.”
With that, Rachel quickly removed Finn’s arm and started walking down the path, once again.
“I would really love to continue this conversation, Finn,” she lied, “but, you see, I promised my father I’d help him with work.”
“I wouldn’t waste my time trying to help that flamboyant old bat,” Finn mumbled, eliciting a too hardy laugh from his friend.
Rachel spun around and glared up at the men, and was about to deliver a diatribe (that Finn would undoubtedly ignore), but before a word could pass from her lips, an explosion rang out from her cottage. In fear for her father’s safety, she raced home, leaving the laughing men to their own devices.
She followed the trail of smoke billowing from the small window in the cellar, eventually getting to the door and calling out for her father as she tried to make it through the debris of failed experiments.
“Everything’s fine, I just had a little…mix up,” her father replied, and Rachel nearly tripped over his body while gawking at the so-called mix up. She hopped over her father and retrieved a pail of water, then dumped it over the small fire that somehow started by his latest invention.
With a groan and a cough, Hiram brought himself from underneath the machinery and stood to greet his daughter. His hair was graying and his glasses were thick, but he seemed spry for his age. Rachel still worried, though, since her other father seemed spry for his age, too.
“If I wasn’t so sure of my remarkable intellect, and ability to fix this piece of junk, this thing would be in the scrap heap in the corner,” Hiram said while giving the invention a little kick, causing it to splutter and groan.
Their family had gone through some troubles, recently. While Hiram was once considered a wise inventor, things started to go foul over the past year. Machines kept busting, and his ideas were starting to jumble. While the villagers thought he was losing his mind, Rachel knew his faults came from losing his love.
Leroy had been a kind man who treated Rachel as his own. He started out as solely Hiram’s assistant, and to the people outside of their home, that’s all he ever was. But over the years he grew to be a good friend to Hiram, and then a lover. He was the calm to Hiram’s storm and both his and Rachel’s rock. He fell ill one winter’s night, while transporting one of Hiram’s inventions to a convention in the next town. He never got better.
Now, Rachel helped Hiram whenever she could, which really just meant handing him various tools. She wasn’t quite the handy type. Hiram got back under the contraption, wrench in hand, and as always, Rachel stood by the tools, ready to help whenever.
“Dad, do you…do you think we’re odd?” the woman asked after a short while.
His voice, along with the struggle of metal against metal, echoed under the contraption, “Odd? Well, no. I mean, except for the obvious things,” he chuckled. “Why do you ask?”
Rachel seemed to fade off into her own world, leaving the toolbox behind as she started to pace the cellar as she went into a small rant, “The townspeople were talking again, and I try my best to ignore them and tell myself that they’re wrong. But sometimes I just can’t help but think that they’re right, and we are different, and-“
“Hold on, wait, wait,” Hiram interrupted his daughter, “of course we’re different. Rachel, honey, there’s nothing wrong with being different. This family has prided itself on being different.”
“Maybe. I just feel lonely, like there’s nobody for me to talk to.”
“Well, what about that Finn boy? He seems…well intentioned.”
“Well intentioned or not, whenever that man opens his mouth, he always puts his mud-covered boot in it,” Rachel rolled her eyes. “This town might worship the ground he walks on, but he’s not the one for me. I just feel like there’s something better for me.”
The last of her sentence was drowned out by the strange machine sputtering back to life. Hiram jumped to his feet and the both of them partook in a hopping sort of dance as they cheered and the device chopped logs of wood. Rachel helped her father attach the invention to the family horse, and after a long goodbye, he rode off into the sunset, map in hand and dreams of a wonderful future for his daughter flooding his mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The night was an inky black when Hiram discovered that map reading wasn’t one of his strong suits. He had been lost for hours but, being as thick-headed as he was, decided to keep moving forward. And perhaps he should have listened to his horse’s animal instinct when they came to the fork in the road.
The trees of the forest towered over him, tall and hollow, and he would have felt threatened if they weren’t merely dead wood. Even though he had a lantern, he could barely see three inches from his face. His horse was no better, and they both shivered with every twig that cracked under a hoof.
From the depths of the woods, a howl sounded out. And then another. The sound of paws thumping against the cold ground came closer and closer, and the horse bucked and whinnied and galloped in whatever direction he could. No matter what the old man tried, he couldn’t calm down his steed. The howls grew louder, and the horse grew wilder. Eventually, he crashed into a wrought iron gate and threw off his master, running off before the wolves could get him.
Hiram watched his horse abandon him before quickly scrambling to the fence. Luckily it was unlocked, and he barged in before any other creature of the night could find him. With a heaved sigh, that quickly transformed into a choked cough, he turned away from the gate, and saw a grand castle in the distance. When he noticed the long, crumbling bridge he had to cross to reach salvation, Hiram almost turned tail and tried to make it back home, but he figured a wolf attack would be more painful than falling to his death. So, with shaky legs, he carefully made his way across the bridge. At the halfway point, he made the mistake of looking over the side and nearly passed out from his ragged nerves. The bottom was nearly pitch black, but even Hiram’s old eyes could see the sharp rocks that lie there. He paused to take a couple calming breaths, and then continued onward.
With every step closer, Hiram could see the castle in greater detail. Stone pillars were cracked, the surrounding garden was overrun. Fearsome creatures, gargoyles possibly, stood tall upon the castle, the only things that seemed to be untouched by weather. It appeared as if only crows were brave, or foolhardy, enough to cross the castle’s gates. The sight alone charged his nerves, but the shelter of the castle was more than Hiram could turn down.
Once inside, though the castle was shrouded in darkness, Hiram could tell the walls were richly decorated. The slightest step produced an echo, and Hiram hoped that whoever lived here – if someone lived here – was a friendly soul. He wandered down one of the hallways, and didn’t know if he should be grateful or nervous when he started to hear whispers. They were unintelligible murmurings at first, but the further he walked down the hall, the easier he could hear.
“We should at least see if he’s all right,” someone argued in a hushed, ambiguous tone.
“You’re really hard up for conversation, aren’t you?” came an obviously male, and equally as snarky, reply.
No matter where he looked, Hiram couldn’t find a door to where these voices were coming from. He reached over to a table in the hall and picked up the small candelabra that rest there to help him better see in the darkness.
“Hello? I don’t mean to intrude, but I was passing through the woods, and some wolves came around. My horse suffered a terrible fright and accidentally left me here. Either that, or he’s been plotting against me for months, after that time I tried to use him for farming…”
“I hate to think what her majesty will do, if she finds out you let somebody into the castle,” the snarky man whispered.
Hiram twirled around in the hallway, trying desperately to find the source of the voices, “The weather is rather atrocious. I only ask to stay the night and-” his voice cut out as a coughing fit overcame him.
“Oh, you poor man,” the high-pitched voice called out seemingly right beside his ear, “of course you may stay the night!”
The other voice groaned while Hiram jumped from surprise, “Hello? Where are you?”
“…Beside you,” was the tentative reply, and Hiram turned his head to see nothing but the candelabra.
“Good evening,” said the…candelabra. And Hiram passed out.
He awoke shortly afterward in the comfiest chair he had ever sat in, placed in the middle of an elegant parlor. The parlor was dark, like the rest of the castle, save for a small amount of light that came from the floor next to the chair. Where the candelabra stood.
Hiram just stared at it for a moment, almost begging it to move (or to stay perfectly still, he wasn’t sure which he would prefer). He inched forward to the edge of the chair and tapped it with his foot, causing the candelabra to hop backwards and bluster out, “I beg your pardon!”
Hiram, too, jumped back, and was enveloped by the cushiony softness of the chair. He warily inspected the candelabra as it stared back at him, “You can talk.”
“Yes, I can,” the candelabra unnecessarily affirmed. He tried to take on a patient tone, but this strange man was wearing on his patience. Perhaps his friend was right, and they should have just dragged him outside when he passed out.
“Yes, he talks, you talk, the chair would talk if that wouldn’t lead to awkwardness and embarrassment for all of us,” the snarky voice from before remarked, and before Hiram could reply, the chair started to move. He decided standing would be for the best.
The owner of the voice stepped into the candelabra’s light. It was a small grandfather clock, with a dark mahogany finish. His face had a…face, and one of his eyebrows was raised at Hiram, “Now that that’s covered, you need to leave.”
“Nonsense,” the candelabra interrupted. “Don’t mind him, sir. Jesse always lacked a certain compassion for others.”
“I’m sorry I’m being realistic. I just don’t want to be thrown in the dungeon when Miss finds out we’ve let someone into the castle. Remember the last time you let someone into the castle? That certainly didn’t end in our favor.”
Hiram watched in astonishment as the two should-have-been inanimate objects bickered with each other, until something came to his attention, “You have names.”
The candelabra turned to the man and gave him a small smile, “I don’t believe we’ve properly introduced ourselves. My name is Kurt, and this wretch is Jesse.”
“Charmed,” Jesse drawled.
There was a squeaking that echoed from the hall outside the parlor, and soon a tea set came in on a rolling cart.
“Oh, splendid, the tea is ready! Thank you, Ms. Jones,” Kurt gushed and the teapot nodded as best as she could for being a teapot.
“I heard you’ve had a nasty night,” Ms. Jones said while pouring a cup of tea for Hiram, and he nodded as he experienced another coughing fit. “Well you just drink up and try to get some rest. You’re welcome to consider this place like home…at least until Miss wakes from her nap.”
“You two need to stop being so overly dramatic,” Kurt huffed with a roll of his eyes.
“Says the boy who goes into a frenzy whenever his finish is scuffed,” Ms. Jones muttered to Jesse.
Hiram was understandably put off by the tea, but he drank it anyway in a show of politeness. Despite his wariness, the beverage tasted delicious and even helped him relax. At least for a short while.
There was a low growl and a strong breeze came out of nowhere. The objects in the room started to tremble, and before Hiram could ask what was happening, he was lifted off the ground by his neck. It was too dark to see specific details, but Hiram knew that whatever had him wasn’t human.
“What are you doing here?” the beast shouted at the man.
Hiram stuttered and coughed, and Kurt tried to explain the situation, “You see, your majesty, he lost his horse while traveling in the woods, and he came upon the castle. He has a terrible cough, and I just thought-”
“Enough!” the beast roared, and everything stood as still as death.
“Please, let me go,” Hiram choked, “I didn’t mean any harm! I Promise I’ll leave as soon as you let me go.”
The beast gave a sickeningly saccharine smile, made all the more menacing by the glint of candlelight on sharp fangs, “No, if you want to stay, I’ll be happy to house you.” The beast bounded out of the parlor, the old man still captured in her paw, leaving a protesting Kurt and Ms. Jones, and a slightly smug Jesse.
