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Title: La Belle et la Bete (or, Snarky and the Cynic)
Rating: PG
Pairing: none (yet)
Word Count: 2380
Notes: Still a rewritten Beauty and the Beast, still written in fairy tale style. ... Nino isn't even in this one XD; Self-betaed again.
Ninomiya Kazuko was well and truly lost.
The whole of the month, it seemed, was not meant to go her way. She sighed, stopping the mare and looking around. Nothing was familiar. The falling snow had covered everything that might tell her which way to turn and find the main road.
“No fortune, no food, no shelter. We received not even enough to buy a decently pretty dress for my girl, all because of his bloody debts. And now we’re lost because you jumped at a rabbit.” she grumbled, nudging the mare back into a walk.
By and by she came to a fork in the road and she stopped the horse again, looking up and down each path. There was nothing to indicate which path she should take, but the mare began to walk to the left of it’s own accord, and no matter what she did, Kazuko could not turn the horse back.
Nothing came of the path. No houses, no people. Nowhere to warm herself or find a meal. She had spent one night in the hollow of a large, fallen tree already – she refused to do that again. Still the horse would not turn from the path, and Kazuko sighed, settling back in the saddle.
The road was surprisingly clean for a snow-covered forest path, she noted. No fallen branches or debris littered the ground, and she hoped that perhaps she would come upon some sort of forest cottage like her own.
As the horse bore her forward, the snow lessened on the ground until it disappeared and the path became a wide avenue, lined on both sides by orange trees. A light fragrance filled the air, distracting Kazuko from the tingling in the back of her mind that it was very strange that there should be ripe oranges on trees in the middle of winter and no snow on the avenue.
The sun was setting when she came across the huge iron gates that were the first portal to the palace beyond. One was left slightly open, and no matter how hard Kazuko looked through, she couldn’t see anyone to ask permission to enter. She dismounted and led the mare through the gate, knotting up the reins and leaving the horse in an open, empty stable. She called out twice, but nobody answered. Kazuko brushed down the mare and left her with some oats from a bucket by the stall door.
She looked around, spying an open door off to the right, and peeked through it. It was a changing room of some sort, with another open door leading into a grand hall. The air was warm and calming, but there was not a sound to be heard save her own footsteps.
Kazuko made her way carefully to that door and stepped into the hall, hesitating to enter any farther. “Hello?” She called, “Is the master of the house in? I’ve lost my way in the woods and it’s snowing quite heavily. ... I don’t want to intrude, but ... I don’t see anyone ...”
Receiving no answer, she trailed off and sighed, unsure which way to turn.
A flicker of flame caught her attention and she turned toward it, seeking the source. Her search led her to a small room with a couch pulled up close to a fire. There was no sign of the torch bearer she’d thought she’d seen. Drawn to the warmth after the chill of the winter air and the damp snow, she sat down on the couch thinking that surely something like this was meant for an expected guest. She resolved to wait until her host appeared, but fell asleep quickly.
When she woke from her hunger, Kazuko found drawn close a table laid out with a supper more lavish than anything she’d seen in her life – there were cooked meats and pastries and soups and breads that she’d thought she’d left behind when they’d moved from the city, and more foods that she couldn’t even identify.
“Is this saved for someone? I’m quite hungry, but I won’t touch it if it is ...” she paused and sighed, “But nobody’s here. Right.” she reached out tentatively and grasped a piece of warm bread. When nothing struck her down, she placed it in her mouth and looked around, wondering as she chewed if her host would appear so she might thank them.
No one ever did.
Still weary from her journey, she fell asleep on the couch in the middle of eating. When she woke again, refreshed, the dinner table had been replaced with a small table of fruit and wine and small cakes. Kazuko helped herself, wondering how the table had been reset without her hearing anything. Sated, she stood, leaving the room behind her and turning towards the main stairs. She never saw the candles putting themselves out.
“I realize this is very forward, but I’m very tired and I have a long journey home from here ... I think. I would like to express my gratitude to the master of the palace ...” she paused, growing irate at the unending silence. “You don’t care, do you? Or somebody would show themself.”
She stepped boldly into the hall and took herself up the stairs to the second floor, only to realize that she didn’t know where anything was and stop sheepishly at the landing. Another flicker of flame from the top of the next flight of stairs caught her attention and she rounded the stairs, heading up. When she stopped at the landing of the third floor, the flame had disappeared. She put her hands on her hips and huffed.
“Now what? Really, this is quite tiresome.”
Something creaked as if in response – to her right a heavy door was opening. She frowned, feeling vaguely that she should be a little frightened of a castle with no people in it – but the desire to sleep was too great. She entered the room.
Laid over a lush bed was a gown of silk and the hearth had a warm fire crackling comfortingly. Kazuko slipped from her snow-dampened clothes and put on the nightgown, sliding under the heavy covers and settling with a sigh of total comfort.
She was asleep a minute later.
------
Kazuko woke to a warm, sunny glow and a warm breakfast tray, the fire still burning merrily in the hearth. Laid over the chair were her clothes – they were dry, and on inspection had been mended carefully. She dressed and ate, murmuring her thanks, and when she was finished she left her room, intending to retrieve the mare and begin her journey home.
In the light of day, the castle was far less forbidding than it seemed at night, but it remained silent and lifeless and was thus far lonelier. Kazuko returned to the first floor, looking through the galleries and rooms that she’d been too tired to search the night before, hoping to find her host in one of them.
When her search proved fruitless, she made her way out from the back of the palace and into the garden, smiling delightedly. Everywhere else it was winter, but out here the sun shone warmly and the air was light and sweet with fragrant flowers. But here, as everywhere else in the palace, there was no sign of life – not even a servant!
Kazuko walked down the steps into the garden, bending to inhale from a delicate flower she couldn’t place the name of. She stood again with a sigh and laughed. “I should return home at once and bring my children here. Surely if no one lives here this is meant for us.”
She left to find her mare, hoping it hadn’t been killed.
The horse was still happily munching oats in her stall. A blanket had been placed over her and she’d been brushed out shining – she looked as beautiful as Kazuko had ever seen her. Kazuko took the horse from the stall and led her outside, flinging her cloak over her shoulders. She was nearly over the bridge when a smaller, hedged garden caught her eye, cherry trees in full bloom despite the cold season. Her breath caught in her throat, remembering Kazunari’s request.
Tying up the horse, she headed into the garden and wandered under the trees, admiring the beautiful branches. When she found one branch low enough to reach, she reached up and plucked a flower from it.
Before she could even blink, she was set upon by an angry shadow, a flash of shining teeth and dark fur. Kazuko screamed and threw her arms up reflexively, sure that she’d been set upon by a hungry wolf or bear or rabid something. When teeth didn’t immediately sink into her flesh, however, she paused and peeked her eyes open, only to wish she kept them closed.
Looming in front of her, standing between her and the tree protectively, was a thing she could only call a Beast. Deep brown eyes glared at her from behind a snout that couldn’t quite contain all the teeth and crooked fangs. Small ears protruded from behind long, curled horns. The Beast stood, towering over her on his bent hind legs, fur bristling all down his back, claws extended at her.
“How dare you?” it growled, and Kazuko gave a short scream, falling back.
The Beast dropped to all four legs, pushing his face close. Kazuko whimpered.
“Well?” the Beast demanded. “Who told you that you could take from my trees? Was it not enough that I fed you, sheltered you and your horse from the snow, and fixed your clothes? You repay my hospitality and kindness by destroying my beautiful tree?”
“I’m sorry!” Kazuko cried, covering her face as if that would protect her. “I’m really so very sorry, noble sir. I am grateful for everything you’ve done – it wasn’t my intention to offend you. But you’ve done so much that I couldn’t imagine taking a blossom would offend you, and my son asked for a blossom. He so rarely asks for anything or expects he’ll actually get it, and I thought – ”
“You are ready with flattery and excuses,” The Beast growled loudly, cutting her off. “But I do not care who you meant to give my blossoms to. You have stepped over your boundaries and you should have known better. Your words will not save you from the death you deserve.”
“Please, sir!” Kazuko said, “I meant you no harm. I couldn’t even salvage enough to buy my daughter a dress, but I thought I could at least bring Kazunari the blossom. Please let me go home to my children. We barely have money to survive as it is and they have no father – they can’t lose their mother, too. They will both die without me.”
The Beast paused, tilting his head as if considering. He breathed out idle growls as he did, leaving Kazuko to wait with growing anxiety until he made his decision. Finally he drew himself up and nodded. “I will forgive you your trespass on one condition – and that is that you will send me one of your children.”
“What? No, please, noble sir! I can’t!”
The Beast snarled in disgust, and it seemed to Kazuko that he shrugged. “Then they have lost their mother,” he said, sharpening a claw on the stone laid path. His voice was calm and steady, almost nonchalant.
“Even if I could bring myself to buy my life at the expense of my children, what excuse could I give to make either come?”
“None will be necessary,” answered the Beast, “When one will come, he or she will come willingly. I will not accept either of them otherwise.” He paused and shook out his great furred body before continuing. “You seem honest enough so I will trust you to go home. You have a month to see if either of your children will be brave enough to save your life. If neither will come, you will return alone, bidding them both good-bye forever, for you will never see them again.” He paused, then added grimly, “And do not imagine you can hide from me.”
Kazuko watched in numb horror as the Beast stalked away, unaware of the tears tracking down her face. She stood shakily, the delicate blossom cupped in her hand. She returned to the path where she had tied up her mare, only to find the horse gone. She cried out in horror, thinking the Beast had not really intended to let her leave.
“Cease your howling, woman,” the Beast growled from afar. “You may not leave now – you will go tomorrow. You will find a horse ready for you. Eat your supper and await my orders.”
Kazuko returned to her room, numb with shock. A hearty and delicious supper was laid out for her and the fire was blazing in the hearth, but she could barely bring herself to eat and only tasted a little of the food for fear of what might happen if she didn’t. When she finished, a loud noise came from the next room – she knew the Beast was coming. She couldn’t escape his visit, so she drew herself up and tried to appear unafraid.
The Beast entered, and in his rough voice asked, “Have you eaten?”
“I have, thank you, noble sir,” Kazuko replied.
“Remember my face well, and make sure your children know what to expect. Remember that I will find you should you attempt to escape. And do not get up tomorrow,” the Beast added, “until you see the sun and hear a bell ring. Your breakfast you will find waiting for you, and there will be a horse in the courtyard. He will bring you back with your child a month from now. Farewell.”
Kazuko slumped down on her bed when the Beast left, shivering, and laid there until the sun rose. When the sun was up and the bell had rung, she sat up, finding a breakfast tray laid out at her elbow. She ate quickly and left to find the horse in the courtyard. The animal took off so quickly once she had mounted that she hardly noticed when she lost sight of the palace and was still lost in her gloomy thoughts when she arrived home to her cottage.
Rating: PG
Pairing: none (yet)
Word Count: 2380
Notes: Still a rewritten Beauty and the Beast, still written in fairy tale style. ... Nino isn't even in this one XD; Self-betaed again.
Ninomiya Kazuko was well and truly lost.
The whole of the month, it seemed, was not meant to go her way. She sighed, stopping the mare and looking around. Nothing was familiar. The falling snow had covered everything that might tell her which way to turn and find the main road.
“No fortune, no food, no shelter. We received not even enough to buy a decently pretty dress for my girl, all because of his bloody debts. And now we’re lost because you jumped at a rabbit.” she grumbled, nudging the mare back into a walk.
By and by she came to a fork in the road and she stopped the horse again, looking up and down each path. There was nothing to indicate which path she should take, but the mare began to walk to the left of it’s own accord, and no matter what she did, Kazuko could not turn the horse back.
Nothing came of the path. No houses, no people. Nowhere to warm herself or find a meal. She had spent one night in the hollow of a large, fallen tree already – she refused to do that again. Still the horse would not turn from the path, and Kazuko sighed, settling back in the saddle.
The road was surprisingly clean for a snow-covered forest path, she noted. No fallen branches or debris littered the ground, and she hoped that perhaps she would come upon some sort of forest cottage like her own.
As the horse bore her forward, the snow lessened on the ground until it disappeared and the path became a wide avenue, lined on both sides by orange trees. A light fragrance filled the air, distracting Kazuko from the tingling in the back of her mind that it was very strange that there should be ripe oranges on trees in the middle of winter and no snow on the avenue.
The sun was setting when she came across the huge iron gates that were the first portal to the palace beyond. One was left slightly open, and no matter how hard Kazuko looked through, she couldn’t see anyone to ask permission to enter. She dismounted and led the mare through the gate, knotting up the reins and leaving the horse in an open, empty stable. She called out twice, but nobody answered. Kazuko brushed down the mare and left her with some oats from a bucket by the stall door.
She looked around, spying an open door off to the right, and peeked through it. It was a changing room of some sort, with another open door leading into a grand hall. The air was warm and calming, but there was not a sound to be heard save her own footsteps.
Kazuko made her way carefully to that door and stepped into the hall, hesitating to enter any farther. “Hello?” She called, “Is the master of the house in? I’ve lost my way in the woods and it’s snowing quite heavily. ... I don’t want to intrude, but ... I don’t see anyone ...”
Receiving no answer, she trailed off and sighed, unsure which way to turn.
A flicker of flame caught her attention and she turned toward it, seeking the source. Her search led her to a small room with a couch pulled up close to a fire. There was no sign of the torch bearer she’d thought she’d seen. Drawn to the warmth after the chill of the winter air and the damp snow, she sat down on the couch thinking that surely something like this was meant for an expected guest. She resolved to wait until her host appeared, but fell asleep quickly.
When she woke from her hunger, Kazuko found drawn close a table laid out with a supper more lavish than anything she’d seen in her life – there were cooked meats and pastries and soups and breads that she’d thought she’d left behind when they’d moved from the city, and more foods that she couldn’t even identify.
“Is this saved for someone? I’m quite hungry, but I won’t touch it if it is ...” she paused and sighed, “But nobody’s here. Right.” she reached out tentatively and grasped a piece of warm bread. When nothing struck her down, she placed it in her mouth and looked around, wondering as she chewed if her host would appear so she might thank them.
No one ever did.
Still weary from her journey, she fell asleep on the couch in the middle of eating. When she woke again, refreshed, the dinner table had been replaced with a small table of fruit and wine and small cakes. Kazuko helped herself, wondering how the table had been reset without her hearing anything. Sated, she stood, leaving the room behind her and turning towards the main stairs. She never saw the candles putting themselves out.
“I realize this is very forward, but I’m very tired and I have a long journey home from here ... I think. I would like to express my gratitude to the master of the palace ...” she paused, growing irate at the unending silence. “You don’t care, do you? Or somebody would show themself.”
She stepped boldly into the hall and took herself up the stairs to the second floor, only to realize that she didn’t know where anything was and stop sheepishly at the landing. Another flicker of flame from the top of the next flight of stairs caught her attention and she rounded the stairs, heading up. When she stopped at the landing of the third floor, the flame had disappeared. She put her hands on her hips and huffed.
“Now what? Really, this is quite tiresome.”
Something creaked as if in response – to her right a heavy door was opening. She frowned, feeling vaguely that she should be a little frightened of a castle with no people in it – but the desire to sleep was too great. She entered the room.
Laid over a lush bed was a gown of silk and the hearth had a warm fire crackling comfortingly. Kazuko slipped from her snow-dampened clothes and put on the nightgown, sliding under the heavy covers and settling with a sigh of total comfort.
She was asleep a minute later.
------
Kazuko woke to a warm, sunny glow and a warm breakfast tray, the fire still burning merrily in the hearth. Laid over the chair were her clothes – they were dry, and on inspection had been mended carefully. She dressed and ate, murmuring her thanks, and when she was finished she left her room, intending to retrieve the mare and begin her journey home.
In the light of day, the castle was far less forbidding than it seemed at night, but it remained silent and lifeless and was thus far lonelier. Kazuko returned to the first floor, looking through the galleries and rooms that she’d been too tired to search the night before, hoping to find her host in one of them.
When her search proved fruitless, she made her way out from the back of the palace and into the garden, smiling delightedly. Everywhere else it was winter, but out here the sun shone warmly and the air was light and sweet with fragrant flowers. But here, as everywhere else in the palace, there was no sign of life – not even a servant!
Kazuko walked down the steps into the garden, bending to inhale from a delicate flower she couldn’t place the name of. She stood again with a sigh and laughed. “I should return home at once and bring my children here. Surely if no one lives here this is meant for us.”
She left to find her mare, hoping it hadn’t been killed.
The horse was still happily munching oats in her stall. A blanket had been placed over her and she’d been brushed out shining – she looked as beautiful as Kazuko had ever seen her. Kazuko took the horse from the stall and led her outside, flinging her cloak over her shoulders. She was nearly over the bridge when a smaller, hedged garden caught her eye, cherry trees in full bloom despite the cold season. Her breath caught in her throat, remembering Kazunari’s request.
Tying up the horse, she headed into the garden and wandered under the trees, admiring the beautiful branches. When she found one branch low enough to reach, she reached up and plucked a flower from it.
Before she could even blink, she was set upon by an angry shadow, a flash of shining teeth and dark fur. Kazuko screamed and threw her arms up reflexively, sure that she’d been set upon by a hungry wolf or bear or rabid something. When teeth didn’t immediately sink into her flesh, however, she paused and peeked her eyes open, only to wish she kept them closed.
Looming in front of her, standing between her and the tree protectively, was a thing she could only call a Beast. Deep brown eyes glared at her from behind a snout that couldn’t quite contain all the teeth and crooked fangs. Small ears protruded from behind long, curled horns. The Beast stood, towering over her on his bent hind legs, fur bristling all down his back, claws extended at her.
“How dare you?” it growled, and Kazuko gave a short scream, falling back.
The Beast dropped to all four legs, pushing his face close. Kazuko whimpered.
“Well?” the Beast demanded. “Who told you that you could take from my trees? Was it not enough that I fed you, sheltered you and your horse from the snow, and fixed your clothes? You repay my hospitality and kindness by destroying my beautiful tree?”
“I’m sorry!” Kazuko cried, covering her face as if that would protect her. “I’m really so very sorry, noble sir. I am grateful for everything you’ve done – it wasn’t my intention to offend you. But you’ve done so much that I couldn’t imagine taking a blossom would offend you, and my son asked for a blossom. He so rarely asks for anything or expects he’ll actually get it, and I thought – ”
“You are ready with flattery and excuses,” The Beast growled loudly, cutting her off. “But I do not care who you meant to give my blossoms to. You have stepped over your boundaries and you should have known better. Your words will not save you from the death you deserve.”
“Please, sir!” Kazuko said, “I meant you no harm. I couldn’t even salvage enough to buy my daughter a dress, but I thought I could at least bring Kazunari the blossom. Please let me go home to my children. We barely have money to survive as it is and they have no father – they can’t lose their mother, too. They will both die without me.”
The Beast paused, tilting his head as if considering. He breathed out idle growls as he did, leaving Kazuko to wait with growing anxiety until he made his decision. Finally he drew himself up and nodded. “I will forgive you your trespass on one condition – and that is that you will send me one of your children.”
“What? No, please, noble sir! I can’t!”
The Beast snarled in disgust, and it seemed to Kazuko that he shrugged. “Then they have lost their mother,” he said, sharpening a claw on the stone laid path. His voice was calm and steady, almost nonchalant.
“Even if I could bring myself to buy my life at the expense of my children, what excuse could I give to make either come?”
“None will be necessary,” answered the Beast, “When one will come, he or she will come willingly. I will not accept either of them otherwise.” He paused and shook out his great furred body before continuing. “You seem honest enough so I will trust you to go home. You have a month to see if either of your children will be brave enough to save your life. If neither will come, you will return alone, bidding them both good-bye forever, for you will never see them again.” He paused, then added grimly, “And do not imagine you can hide from me.”
Kazuko watched in numb horror as the Beast stalked away, unaware of the tears tracking down her face. She stood shakily, the delicate blossom cupped in her hand. She returned to the path where she had tied up her mare, only to find the horse gone. She cried out in horror, thinking the Beast had not really intended to let her leave.
“Cease your howling, woman,” the Beast growled from afar. “You may not leave now – you will go tomorrow. You will find a horse ready for you. Eat your supper and await my orders.”
Kazuko returned to her room, numb with shock. A hearty and delicious supper was laid out for her and the fire was blazing in the hearth, but she could barely bring herself to eat and only tasted a little of the food for fear of what might happen if she didn’t. When she finished, a loud noise came from the next room – she knew the Beast was coming. She couldn’t escape his visit, so she drew herself up and tried to appear unafraid.
The Beast entered, and in his rough voice asked, “Have you eaten?”
“I have, thank you, noble sir,” Kazuko replied.
“Remember my face well, and make sure your children know what to expect. Remember that I will find you should you attempt to escape. And do not get up tomorrow,” the Beast added, “until you see the sun and hear a bell ring. Your breakfast you will find waiting for you, and there will be a horse in the courtyard. He will bring you back with your child a month from now. Farewell.”
Kazuko slumped down on her bed when the Beast left, shivering, and laid there until the sun rose. When the sun was up and the bell had rung, she sat up, finding a breakfast tray laid out at her elbow. She ate quickly and left to find the horse in the courtyard. The animal took off so quickly once she had mounted that she hardly noticed when she lost sight of the palace and was still lost in her gloomy thoughts when she arrived home to her cottage.
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