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Posted on Saturday, 28 October 2000
Hi! I've been a long time lurker on this board, and I love what everyone's done here. While at Disneyland over the summer, it occurred to me that Belle would make a great Lizzy. After a bit of prodding from Tina, I'm coming out of my proverbial shell and this is my cross between the Disney version of Beauty & the Beast, the original fairytale version, and, of course, Pride and Prejudice. Since this is my first story, I'd really appreciate comments or suggestions anyone would like to make. Once in a far away land, a young prince named Fitzwilliam Darcy lived in a shinning castle. Because he had everything his heart desired, he was proud, haughty, and cold.
But, then, one winter's night, an old beggar woman in tattered grey clothes came to the castle and offered him a single perfect red rose in return for shelter from the bitter storm. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But, she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within.
And when his pride made him dismiss her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. Even at the sight of this, the prince remained unrepentant, and in his obstinacy, rejected even the idea of an apology.
Upon seeing that the prince had no love in his heart, the enchantress transformed him into a hideous beast and placed the castle of Pemberley, and all who were there, under a powerful spell.
Ashamed of his monstrous form, Darcy concealed himself inside his castle with a magic silver hand mirror as his only window to the outside world.
The rose that the old woman had offered was truly an enchanted rose. It would bloom until his 26th year. If the prince could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then, the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time.
As the years past, Darcy fell into despair and lost all hope.
.............For who could ever learn to love a beast?
Posted on Sunday, 29 October 2000
10 years later.....
The merchant urged his horse onwards, gold, red, and orange leaves crunching beneath the horse's hooves, as he rode into the forest. A gentle and hopeful smile spread over the merchant's face as he recalled his eldest daughter's request. A single red rose.
The merchant had been so fortunate in all his undertakings that he and his three daughters had been able to live in great comfort and wealth.
But one year ago, a most unexpected misfortune befell them. Their house caught fire and was speedily burnt to the ground, taking with it all of their furniture, precious goods, and personal possessions.
However, this was only the beginning of their troubles. The merchant suddenly lost every ship he had upon the sea through shipwreck, piracy, and fire. Then, he heard that his clerks in the distant countries, whom he trusted entirely, had proved unfaithful.
And at last, he, and his family, fell from wealth to poverty. All that was left was a little cottage at least one hundred leagues from the town they had formerly lived in. To this house the Bennet family retreated to and dwelled in for the next year.
But on this day, Mr. Bennet had received the news that one of his ships, which he had believed to be lost, had come safely into port with a rich cargo.
As he prepared for his journey to town, his two youngest daughters, Lydia and Kitty, had immediately loaded their father with lists of beautiful dresses, hats, yards of lace, and jewels for him to buy once their fortune was reclaimed. Only his eldest daughter, Elizabeth, feeling that it was still much too soon, did not ask for anything.
The merchant, noticing her silence, had said, "And what shall I bring for you, my Lizzy?"
"The only thing I wish for is your safe return," she had answered with honesty.
This reply had created an outburst of pouting and accusations from Lydia and Kitty. They claimed that Lizzy was always trying to ruin their fun and disapprove of whatever they did. That they had lived all year without any amusements, parties, or pretty dresses to wear. How they were actually forced to work! Lydia's exclamations were punctuated by vigorous nodding on Kitty's side.
Mr. Bennet intervened and pressed his favourite daughter to choose something. Elizabeth had relented and said, "Well, dear father, as you insist upon it, I beg that you will bring me a rose. I have not seen one since we came here, and I love them so much."
Mr. Bennet broke out of his reverie when he noticed a small winding path that led off from the main road. Believing that this was a shortcut, he broke off from the main pathway and rode into the opening of this trail.
A bluish-trey mist covered the forest floor, and the eerie quiet was broken only by the drip, drip, drip of water from a tree echoing in the dead silence. Philippe came to a complete stop, refusing to take another step.
"This doesn't look familiar at all," Mr. Bennet muttered to himself. "Come on, Philippe, let's go back," he said while he turned the horse around.
That's when he noticed something--a pair of pale yellow eyes directly in front of him.
A light grey and white wolf emerged from between the trees.
While attempting to keep the panicked Philippe under his control, it was a few moments before it registered in Mr. Bennet's mind that the wolf had actually sat down a few strides away from them and was making conversation.
"Please, don't be alarmed," begged the well-groomed wolf, putting on his most charming smile. "My name is Wickham. You see, I wasn't always a wolf," he continued quickly before Mr. Bennet could change his mind and bolt away.
"There's a castle, deep within the forest. One night, a long time ago, all who were there were transformed by an enchantress as punishment, because of the wicked prince that lives there." "Now, it's not my place to say anything," continued the wolf in a conspiratorial whisper, "but, I was once connected closely to the family that lived there, and it pains me to see what has happened. I do my best now to help travellers like you from wandering too far into the forest and falling into the clutches of the prince, who is now a horrible beast. Please, do let me show you the way."
Feeling sympathy for the wolf, and quickly won over by his pleasing manners and easy ways, Mr. Bennet consented to let Wickham be his guide.
Mr. Bennet urged Philippe a few times before the horse reluctantly moved forward. And so, the merchant and his horse followed the wolf into the forest.
Posted on Saturday, 4 November 2000
Elizabeth Bennet stepped out of the cottage and sprang lightly down the steps, basket in hand, on her way to a small town, a village really, just one league away from her home. She tucked a loose strand of her long dark hair behind one ear as she walked along. The small town of Hertfordshire was just waking up.
In this town, and other nearby towns, Elizabeth was known as Belle, for her beauty. The townspeople would stop what they were doing just to watch her walk by. Not only did look, they also whispered:
"It's no wonder that people call her Belle," noted the baker in a low voice to a customer, "her looks have no parallel."
"Yes," nodded the customer, learning forward, "but beneath that fair façade--"
"There's something rather odd," cut in the barber.
"She's beautiful-" began the milkmaid.
"And special," added the fruit seller.
"But a funny girl, that Belle," ended the blacksmith, with one last glimpse of Lizzy before she disappeared behind the door of a bookstore.
The wolf weaved in and out between the trees. Disappearing a few moments before reappearing onto the path. Mr. Bennet did his best to follow the grey and white flashes, but Wickham became harder and harder to follow, and eventually, Mr. Bennet could not catch sight of him anymore.
Instead, a shaggy dark wolf returned in Wickham's place. First one, then another, and another and another. It was an entire pack, and Wickham was not among them.
Panicked, Philippe reared up and streaked off blindly into the forest.
Mr. Bennet hunched over and clung desperately onto the horse's mane as the wolves, panting and snarling gained on them.
They rode, deeper and deeper into the forest. The trees became thicker and thorns ripped at the merchant's pants and branches seemed to push him back like arms.
And without warning, Philippe skidded to a stop, sending Mr. Bennet flying over the horse and against a black iron gate. The gate opened inward on contact and Mr. Bennet landed on the gravel within its walls.
The gate immediately closed on its own accord, and within seconds, the wolves hurled themselves against it with a loud crash and fell away whimpering when they could not gain entry.
With his heart still beating furiously, Mr. Bennet heaved a small sigh of relief.
He rose shakily to his feet and dusted himself off. He looked up and what he saw took his breath away. A dark, enormous castle loomed before him.
Just then, a thunderbolt split the sky, casting a harsh white light over the castle, and instantly rain began to fall in torrents. It left Mr. Bennet no choice. He ran towards the castle and the faint light that flickered from an open window.
He crossed a bridge that spanned a dried-up moat and passed the first court, where vines covered the grounds, crept up the garden walls and tangled around broken marble statues. Quickly, he went up the flight of agate steps to the castle door. To his surprise, the door creaked open without resistance.
He walked through several splendidly furnished rooms. But each archway seemed only to lead to more dark, faraway rooms.
Staring with wonder, Mr. Bennet tentatively called out, "Hello?" But the only reply was his own voice echoing in the dim parlour.
At long last, tired from the day's events and from roaming through the empty rooms and galleries, Mr. Bennet stopped in a room smaller than the rest.
A clear fire was burning and a couch was drawn up closely to it. Thinking that this must be prepared for someone who was expected, Mr. Bennet sat down to wait till he should come, and very soon, fell into a sweet sleep.
When his extreme hunger awakened him an hour later, he was still alone; but a little table with a good dinner laid out upon it, was placed next to him. Having eaten nothing almost all day, he lost no time in beginning his meal, hoping that he might soon have an opportunity of thanking his considerate host, whoever it might be.
But no one appeared, and even after another hour of sleep, from which he awoke completely refreshed, there was still no sign of a single soul.
The silence began to nag at Mr. Bennet, and the story of the terrible beast related to him by the wolf began to ring in his mind.
He decided that it was perhaps not best to linger and began to make his way out of the castle. But, a few wrong turns led him to the garden.
Here, the sun was shinning, the birds sang, and the air was soft and sweet. Mr. Bennet wondered at the orchard composed entirely of orange trees, covered with flowers and fruit.
But what captured his attention was a hedge of roses on each side of the walkway. An exquisite rose of every colour grew on the hedges. They reminded him of his promise to Lizzy, and he stopped to gather just one to take to her.
A whisper, urgent but as soft as a gentle wind rose up to his ears. He paused, with the red rose in his hand, to listen. "You must leave the rose. Hurry and go while you can," it urged him. When he didn't move, the message was repeated again. "Leave the rose, go quickly."
Mr. Bennet peered around the hedge to see whom this voice could possibly belong to, but like always, he didn't see anyone.
Feeling a small chill run up his spine, he turned to leave, but there was someone--something--blocking his way.
It towered on thick, hairy legs, and its head and arms were covered with matted fur. As it stepped toward Mr. Bennet, its feet pounded the floor like mallets. Under the thick, tangled brows, its eyes glared angrily and its nostrils flared.
"Who told you that you might gather my roses?" demanded Darcy.
Mr. Bennet wanted to run, but he couldn't. Fear had him frozen.
When silence was his only answer, the Beast continued in a dangerous growl. "Was it not enough that I allowed you to be in my castle and was kind to you? This is the way you show your gratitude, by stealing from me!"
Mr. Bennet, terrified by these furious words, dropped the fatal rose. He was only able to stammer out, "I...I heard about you, from the...the wolf."
The Beast's dark eyes turned suddenly cold. "So, you've come to my home to see the horrible beast?"
"No, no. That's not what I meant," Mr. Bennet said. "I just needed a place to stay when--"
But it was too late. Darcy reached forward and grabbed the poor merchant by the shirt with his claws. "I'll give you a place to stay."