Happy Holidays, ishafel!
Title: A Beastly Tale
Author: Lumiere
Real Author Name: dkwilliams
Written for: Ishafel
Characters/Pairings: Duncan MacLeod, Methos, Connor, Richie, Ian MacLeod, Joe Dawson if you squint. Duncan MacLeod/Methos pre-slash
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: I am so, so sorry for this. My brain is obviously a very strange place. But when Ishafel said “weird AUs” in her request, this is where my mind went. A bit of an apology to Robin McKinley and Disney, and a whole lot to LePrince de Beaumont.
Summary: An enchanted castle, a curse to be broken, and a Beauty of a Tale to tell.
Come, gather around the fire and listen to tales of magic and mystery! I have stories of adventure, and stories of romance, and stories of brave deeds bravely done! Choose your story, listen till the end, and then drop a coin into the hat to pay for the tale.
What sort of story will you have tonight? A tale of adventure? I know just the sort, a story about a road that lead over the hills and back again. Or perhaps you would prefer a story of magic and romance, the kind that comes upon a person with great subtlety and changes lives. Very well! Fill up your glasses, sit back, and prepare for a story that will enchant you.
In a far off land, in a distant time, there stood a castle deep within an enchanted wood. The castle was old, the oldest in the world, and within the castle lived the oldest being on earth, who had once been a Prince of the Universe, handsome and gifted. But this Prince had fallen into bad company, and had committed horrible deeds that caused his name to be likened unto Death, and so had fallen afoul of a powerful sorceress. She had not been deceived by his fair looks but had instead seen the dark heart within him, and so she had cast a deep and dark enchantment upon him. He was transformed into a hideous beast, marked by the signs of the evil that he had done, and doomed to remain as such until the day when someone would look upon his fearful visage and love him in spite of that. But the Beast had hidden himself away from the world in this enchanted castle, and he was full of despair, for who could ever come to love a beast?
On the other side of the forest was a lovely town nestled in a beautiful valley, the principal town for that area of the kingdom. It was a quiet and peaceful town, full of people who were by turns kind and cruel, industrious and lazy, an ordinary town, full of ordinary people, on the edge of the most extraordinary forest in the world. Everyone knew that the forest held some dark mystery, but all the paths into it were covered with thorns and brambles that defied even the strongest of blades. And so the people of the town ignored the forest with its great mystery and went about their daily lives.
One of the most notable families of the town was the MacLeods. They had founded the town many years before, and the current patriarch of the family was Ian MacLeod, a man of great wealth and firm temperament. He was a businessman of great renowned, with a number of shops across the kingdom and many boats that sailed to distant shores to bring back priceless items for sale. He also bred the finest horses in the kingdom, horses that could run faster and longer than any other. But for all his wealth and influence, Ian was also known to be a kind man and a good father to his three motherless sons.
Comely and good were the sons of MacLeod, each of them blessed with different talents. Connor was the eldest, as wiry and sharply built as the swords that he favored above all things. Connor was also knowledgeable about the value of objects and was of great assistance to his father in his business, and he travelled to neighboring towns, trading for goods with a shrewd eye and a thrifty heart.
The youngest was Richard, and he was as hot-tempered and fiery as his hair. His greatest joy was in the fast horses that his father bred, and he had a way with the proud creatures that made all who saw him marvel. His were the hands that delivered the new foals and guided them to their mothers, and his were the hands that broke yearlings to the saddle and rein without breaking their spirits.
But Ian's greatest joy was in his middle son, Duncan. From the time of his birth, Duncan had been blessed with beauty of countenance and of spirit. He had wisdom beyond his years and a well-deserved reputation for fairness and justice. His counsel was called upon by men with more years than he to their tally, and all who sought his counsel came away with lightened hearts. His father relied upon him for assistance in many matters concerning the treatment of his employees, relying on his ability to see beyond the surface. And even though Connor sometimes complained that Duncan got all the pretty women, and Richie sometimes chaffed under Duncan's advice, both brothers loved him dearly and he loved them in return.
But what Duncan loved most of all was knowledge. He had, as his brothers, gone to the town priest for instruction in his letters and numbers but, unlike his brothers, he had continued under Father Darius' tutelage even when he became a man. He loved the books and music his teacher gave him, but even more than that he loved the stories that Darius told about his travels to distant lands when he was younger. Duncan longed to travel as well, to see the wonders that Father Darius spoke about, but he knew that he would never be allowed to do so. His place was there with his family, in the town where he was born. Still, he could dream, and in his dreams he traveled to distant places and saw wondrous sights.
Even more wondrous was that in his dreams there was always someone by his side, someone who loved and understood him, someone whose face he could not see, no matter how hard he tried. For Duncan was lonely. It wasn’t that he could not find willing partners, for many a lass or lad was willing enough for a tumble with so comely a young man. But he could not find anyone who felt as he did about books and travel, and after Father Darius went to his final rest, Duncan was lonely indeed.
In the same year that Father Darius passed on, there came a series of disasters to this kingdom. Floods and fire and famine - all were visited upon the hapless inhabitants. Even the powerful MacLeod family suffered under these unending calamities, through fires at their warehouses and storms at sea that wrecked their ships. They were forced to sell off all their goods and shops, and most of the fine furnishings in their home. Their horses were also sold, all but one mare, just to put bread on their table and pennies in the poor box, and when they could no longer afford to support the poor of the town, it was a very dark day for all.
But one day a whisper of good news came to Ian MacLeod, from the distant port on the other side of the forest. One of his lost ships had come into port, and the cargo of that ship would be enough to restore their fortunes and that of the town. The entire town took heart and came to see Ian off, and so full of hope was he that he asked each of his sons what they wanted him to bring home for them.
Connor asked for one of the new swords from the East, so sharp that they were said to be able to cut through silk like it was butter. With such a sword, he would be better able to ward off the bandits that attacked their shipments and wounded their employees.
Richie asked for a stallion from far Arabia. With a fine stud and the mare they’d kept, he would rebuild their stables and they would once again be renowned for their stock.
And Duncan asked for nothing.
Pressed by his father, Duncan finally admitted that what he missed the most was the fine library they’d had to sell, and he asked for his father to bring him a book, preferably one about travel to distant lands.
Ian promised to do his best and, after bidding his sons farewell, he set off for the port town along the road that encircled the great enchanted forest. When he arrived at that distant town, however, he was disappointed to learn that the goods contained on the ship had been badly damaged in the storms that had beset it, and the sale of the goods was barely enough to cover the cost of his trip.
Disheartened, he set off for home again. He was within a half-day of home when a sudden blinding storm drove him off the main road and into the shelter of the forest. There he rode for hours, lost and tired and cold, until he suddenly came upon a castle in the middle of the forest. It was large and elegant, but it seemed empty of all life. He put his horse into a stall in the fine barn, in which oats and hay had already been set out, and then made his way into the castle.
Ian wandered into the hall, hoping for at least rough shelter for the night, and was surprised when the candles sprang to life. Even more surprising was the hot supper laid out for him on the dining table. Ian looked about the room but could find no indication that the food was intended for another person. Deciding that he would apologize and explain when the master of the castle showed up, he cleaned his hands and face and, with a hearty appetite, sat down to a better meal than he had enjoyed in months, accompanied by the finest wine that he had ever tasted.
After he had finished, he was wondering if he should clean the dishes or leave them be when the dishes suddenly vanished from his sight. Greatly startled by this, he crossed himself and went out into the hallway, determined to spend the night with his horse in the safety of the stables. But a door down the hallway swung open and he heard the sound of water being poured, so he decided to see if he could find the master of this castle.
The room was an empty but elegantly appointed bedchamber. A large metal tub had been drawn up before the fireplace, and he could see the steam rising from the water. A large bed lay beyond it, piled high with blankets and fine linen, but there was no indication that anyone had ever slept in it. The wardrobe was bare as well, although a fine nightshirt had been draped over a chair nearest to the fire. With a shrug, he closed the bedchamber door, peeled out of his damp clothes, and settled into the tub for a much appreciated bath.
Fearing to fall asleep and drown, Ian finally pulled himself out of the tub and donned the nightshirt, then crawled into the bed. It was as comfortable as it looked, a bed that a prince would be proud to sleep in, and Ian was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.
In the morning when he awoke, there was still no sign of mortal life, but a basin of warm water and a fresh towel had been laid out on the washstand, and a covered tray sat on the little table by the window. His clothes had been cleaned and pressed and hung on a hook beside the wardrobe, and his boots had been polished till they shone. Ian washed his face and brushed his hair, dressed in his clothes, and sat down to a breakfast of rolls that melted in his mouth and rich hot chocolate.
Idly, he picked up a book that was lying on the table and leafed through it while he ate. It was a tale of travel to distant lands, and with a pang he recalled that he hadn’t been able to bring his sons any gifts. He looked at the book and thought that if he could find the owner of the castle, he would ask for the loan of the book, and if not, well, surely such a small thing wouldn’t be missed, not in this great castle.
His horse was waiting at the front door, already saddled and looking as well-fed and groomed as Ian felt. Ian turned around in a circle, looking for a sign of life, then shrugged and called out a thank you to the castle. Then he turned to his horse and tucked the little book into his saddlebag.
A roar sounded behind him and Ian wheeled around, terrified. There before him stood a horrible monster, armed with the largest sword that Ian had ever seen. The monster’s head was covered with thick coarse hair, matted and tangled, and its skin was covered with mottled blue and white markings. Skins covered its body, and rough fabric that looked more suited to a hovel than a castle.
“Is this the thanks I get for my hospitality?” the Beast roared. “We have given you food to eat and a warm bed to sleep in, and in return you steal from me?”
“I beg your pardon, most abjectly,” Ian replied, shaking in his boots at the sight of the fierce beast and its fearsome weapon. “I saw no sign of life within - I only thought to borrow it, for my son. Please, I do not have much in coin, but I will repay you the worth of the book.”
“You have stolen from me, and your life is the price!”
It was the final straw in a year of woe, and Ian found himself telling the Beast all his troubles, and of the goodness of his children who would be made orphans. He spoke of his last hope to bring a little gift to his beloved son, but the Beast was stern. He told Ian that he could go home to set his affairs in order, but he must return in a week or the Beast would hunt him down and destroy him and his people.
“Your only hope was to have someone else return in your place, one of your sons,” the Beast said finally. “Now take the book and go!”
It was a pallid and greatly-aged man who rode up to the empty stables of the MacLeod house, by way of the path from the enchanted forest. His sons ran to meet him, frightened by his pale face and trembling hands. Ian pulled himself together enough to greet them and give them the bad news about the ship, planning to keep the rest to himself.
Connor frowned and pointed towards the stables. “Then what is that?” he asked.
Ian looked around and saw that a pony was tied up beside his horse, bearing packs that bulged with silk and fine jewels. Beside the pony was a magnificent stallion and three mares, complete with their tack, and a fine sword was attached to the saddle of each. Three of the horses were black as night and labeled for each MacLeod, but one was grey with a note on its bridle that said "For Duncan".
Duncan went to the horse and pulled a book out of the bag tied to the saddle, and at the sight of it, Ian broke down weeping in despair.
They took him inside and the story tumbled out of him. Duncan immediately said that he would go in his father’s place, since the book was for him. Ian protested - he was old, he’d lived his life - and his brothers protested - they would take their swords and end this Beast - but Duncan was adamant.
At the end of the week, Duncan mounted the grey horse with nothing but the little book in his pocket, and he rode down the path that led into the enchanted forest. The brambles and branches that overgrew the path pulled back before him and then closed behind, and in this manner, he found the castle quite easily. The stable was waiting for his horse, and the castle was eerily empty, just as his father had said, but Duncan was not afraid. It was a great adventure, it seemed, like in his books, and the only pity was that it must end so soon with his death.
He wandered through the rooms, finding them all beautifully furnished but empty. Now and again, he heard a faint noise as if someone was whispering in the next room, but he never saw a soul. Eventually, he came upon a room that had sign upon it saying “The Highlander’s Room”, which he knew was meant for him for that was his nickname among his friends and family. It was a beautiful room, with a large and cheerful fire built up against the draft of the castle. A fine suit of clothing had been laid out on the bed and, with great relief, he stripped off his travel-stained apparel and donned the new clothes.
Dressed to befit his surroundings, he continued his exploration and found a great library, where he happily lost himself for a few hours in reading, for the shelves seemed to be filled with his old favorites as well as new books that Father Darius had spoken of. It wasn’t until the candles above the fireplace sprang to life that he realized the day had passed and that he was very hungry.
He walked back down the corridor to the great dining room that he’d noted upon his arrival and, as his father had said, saw that it was laid with food for a single diner. Duncan took his seat, wondering if the Beast was away from the castle and whether he would live to see another day. He thought wistfully of the library, with the books to be read, and sighed.
“Why do you sigh, Duncan MacLeod?” asked a voice from behind him. “Is something not to your liking?”
Duncan sprang up from his chair, swinging around to see a Beast-like figure standing in the doorway. After his father’s words, Duncan was prepared to see a huge, hideous monster, so he was very surprised by the sight before him. The Beast was tall but not as broad in the shoulders as Duncan. He bore not the semblance of an animal, save for the clothes that he had wrapped himself in, and it was only the wild tangle of hair and the odd markings on his face made him look hideous and fierce.
He made the mistake of saying this out-loud, at which point the Beast drew himself up and appeared larger than before, and quite terrifying. His eyes glittered with anger and his voice became cold and harsh. “I am Death,” he said. “I have killed hundreds, no, thousands! When mothers warned their children that the monster would get them, that monster was me. I was the nightmare that kept them awake at night. I am the Beast that you see before you.”
“Then what do you want with me?” asked Duncan.
The Beast called Death came closer, until he stood directly before Duncan. “I want you to marry me.”
Duncan caught his breath. “How am I to answer that?”
“Honestly. Truthfully.”
“Then no, I will not.”
Death’s mouth tightened and for a moment Duncan feared that he would die, but then the Beast made a little bow to him.
“In that case, I will leave you to your supper. Good night, Highlander. I will see you tomorrow night.”
Once Death had left the room, Duncan sat down to his meal but his appetite had fled and so he merely picked at his food. Finally, unable to bear the large dining hall with its shadows, Duncan fled to his room. The warmth of the merry fire dancing in the fireplace soon calmed his nerves, and he was touched to find the book that he had been reading in the library sitting on the small table next to a comfortable armchair. He read until he couldn’t keep his eyes open, falling asleep sitting in the chair, and then he dreamed.
In his sleep, Duncan dreamed that he was walking through the castle, as he had earlier that day. As he walked, though, he came across a room that he hadn’t seen earlier, a small and cozy library. Sitting before the fire was a young man with a shy, engaging smile who looked up as he entered.
“Hello,” the young man said. “Come in, Duncan MacLeod. Have a drink.” He nodded toward the table where a decanter and glass stood waiting for him.
“You know my name?” Duncan asked.
“Of course. I am Adam. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Duncan moved forward, ignoring the decanter. “Are you a prisoner of the Beast, too?”
Adam shrugged. “In a manner of speaking.”
“Have you been here a long time?”
“All my life,” Adam said simply. “I have been lonely for company.”
“It appears that I will be here for a long time as well,” Duncan said with a sigh.
“Then we will become great friends. Sleep well, Highlander.”
Duncan woke up abruptly and looked around. The dream had seemed so real that for a moment he wasn’t certain if he was sleeping or awake. The fire had died down and the room growing chill, so he set aside his book and went to bed.
Weeks passed in this fashion. By day, Duncan explored. Inside the castle, he found an art gallery and a music room, in addition to the fine library. On the vast grounds were magnificent gardens and stables that housed a splendid herd of grey horses. There were antiques and beautiful furnishings in every room. But look as he might, he could not find the room where Adam lived, except in his dreams at night.
In the evening, Death arrived shortly after Duncan had finished his meal and they began to spend more and more time together. Death had traveled the world and knew most of its languages, and he shared his stories with Duncan many evenings. Sometimes he would bring a book that he wanted to draw Duncan’s attention to, and sometimes they would play chess. Despite his intentions, Duncan found that he had come to like the beastly Death, and even that he would miss him should they part. But each evening as they parted, when Death asked him to marry him, Duncan hardened his heart and said no.
Every night, once his head had touched his pillow, Duncan dreamed of Adam, although the dream always seemed as real as the daylight world. In his dreams, they become friends, reading together and talking over many things. Adam always seemed so sad and one day, impulsively, Duncan kissed him. Adam returned the kiss, briefly, and then turned his head away.
“You must not kiss me,” Adam warned.
“Why? Is it because the Beast wants me to marry him?”
“And will you?”
“No!” Duncan said, quite forcefully. “He told me of the deaths he caused, the lives he destroyed. I don’t think that I can forgive him for that.”
“It is not up to you to forgive,” Adam said with a sigh. “It was a different time, Highlander. A different world. People change.”
“Even a Beast? Even Death?”
“Even Death.”
Duncan woke from his dream, and for the first time he did not feel soothed by his dreams. He stayed in his rooms all day, even taking his dinner there. After the dishes disappeared from the table, there was a tap on his door.
“Highlander, are you unwell?” came the concerned voice of the Beast through the door.
Duncan thought of claiming illness but couldn’t lie to the Beast. “I am well,” he replied. “I just need to be alone tonight.”
“You will let me know if you have need of anything? You have only to say the words and you shall have what you want.”
I want to go home.
For the first time since his arrival, homesickness overwhelmed him and he would have given anything to be at home, even as it was during the worst of times. But it was the only thing he could not ask for, as he had given his word.
That night he dreamed that he wandered the castle finding only empty rooms, until finally he came to the room where Adam was imprisoned. The other man was pale and silent, his back turned to Duncan.
“What is wrong?” Duncan demanded of him. “Why do you not talk to me? Why won’t you let me kiss you? Why don’t you trust me?”
“It is you who lack trust,” Adam said, his voice low, but he did not turn around. And a moment later, Duncan woke up, feeling as if he hadn’t slept in weeks.
He left his room right after breaking his fast in the morning, but he was unable to settle down anywhere. Everything he saw made him more homesick, thinking how his father would enjoy the fine artwork and how Connor would admire the chessboards that the Beast had collected. He watched the horses running free and thought how much Richie would delight in their beauty. Even the books failed to interest him for they reminded him of how kindly the Beast had shared his library, and of the books he had discussed with both Death and Adam.
When the Beast joined him that evening, he was immediately concerned. “Highlander, you are unwell! You should have called for help! Are you in pain?”
“Yes,” Duncan said lowly, “but it is a pain that you cannot cure. I am homesick. I miss my family and wish I could see them again, even if just for a day.”
The Beast was silent for a moment, and Duncan didn’t dare look at him to see if he was angered.
“I can give you a day.”
Surprise made Duncan turn to look at the Beast. “What?”
“I can give you a day with your family. If you leave first thing in the morning and promise to return in the evening, then I can give you that time with your family. But you must swear to return before night.”
“I swear!” Duncan said eagerly. “If you will let me go, I swear to return before dark.”
“Then go, but remember your promise, Highlander.”
Duncan was so delighted that he sprang up from his chair. He embraced Death and kissed his cheek, then dashed to his room to ready himself for the morning. He did not look back or he would have seen that the Beast sat in his chair, still as Death, with his hand pressed against the place that Duncan had kissed.
Duncan dreamt again that night, and just as the previous night, it took him forever to find Adam. When he did, Adam was curled in the window seat looking desolate. Duncan told him his good news but Adam looked even more unhappy.
“You are deserting me,” Adam said bleakly.
“No!” Duncan reassured him. “I am your friend, and I will be back. I promised to keep you company while you are the Beast’s captive, and to rescue you from him if I can.”
“It is not Death who is the cause of my unhappiness.”
Duncan frowned. “You always take his side. I think that you are in love with Death, not me.”
Adam sighed. “Oh, Highlander! I am not in love with Death, but he will always be part of me.”
Duncan woke, feeling oddly disquieted, as if he had missed something.
He fell back asleep but his dreams were ordinary, and when he woke it was to a castle that was as still as the grave. There was no breakfast on the little table but he paid no mind to that, dressing hastily and throwing on his cloak before racing to the stable. His horse was waiting, already saddled, and before dawn had done much more than extend its tendrils toward the sky, he was on the road to home.
To say that his family was overjoyed to see him is like saying that a starving man is glad to see food. They hugged him and hung on him, asking him question after question before interrupting his reply to hug him again. They listened to his stories of the castle and its grounds with awe and wonder, although his description of the Beast made Richie’s face darken with anger and caused Connor to express the wish to see the Beast dead.
“Oh no!” Duncan said, horrified at the thought. “He is my friend!”
And as he said that, he realized that it was true. The Beast and Adam were both his friends, and the thought of never seeing them again made his heart ache. In fact, he was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to return to the castle, to see the Beast again just to make certain that he was all right. But his family was so delighted to see him that he pushed back the urge to run from them, telling them yet again about the castle and its library.
Word had spread through the town that Duncan had returned from his travels, and the afternoon found the family descended upon by the good-natured townsfolk bearing all manner of food and drink. So merry did they make that it wasn’t until they began to light the torches that Duncan realized that evening was upon them.
“I must go!” he said, jumping up from where he sat. “I promised that I would return at dark.”
“But it is just barely evening!” his father protested.
“I gave my word,” Duncan said.
“Surely this Beast will not expect you to travel through those woods at night!” Connor said. “You will be unable to see the road - there is no moon to guide your way. Leave in the morning instead; that is the sensible thing to do.”
The night was indeed quite dark, for it was a new moon, and Duncan reluctantly agreed. But from that moment on, he could not enjoy the evening. He felt ill at ease, as if something pained him, and he could not settle in one place for long. When the party broke and he went to his old bed to sleep, he could not find rest but instead tossed and turned. Finally, somewhere after midnight, he gave up trying to sleep.
Duncan dressed quietly and slipped downstairs, careful to lock the door after he let himself out. His horse was pacing in her stall, equally restless, and she gave a whinny of joy at seeing him.
“I know, girl,” he said softly, rubbing her nose. “We should not have left him.”
Quickly he saddled the horse and grabbed a lantern to help find his way, then mounted up. As before, the branches and brambles parted as he made his way down the woodland path, but it seemed to him that they moved slowly, as if they were fighting against overwhelming exhaustion. He restrained the urge to go faster, to press through the tangle, knowing that it was futile but with every mile he felt as if time was running out.
At last they reached the castle, and Duncan was alarmed to see that the lights of the torches on the exterior walls only sputtered, not catching. He slid off the mare and knotted the reins on the saddle, promising to return to tend to his worthy horse, but he needed to be in the castle now. The rooms seemed emptier that ever, the candles providing only a faint light and the doors refusing to open on their own. He walked, and then he ran, down the corridors and peering into all the rooms, looking for Death but there was no sign of him. The castle was as still as a tomb.
At last, at last, he came upon Death’s private rooms, where he had never been allowed before. To his surprise, he recognized the outer room as the private library where Adam was to be found. Sitting in the window-seat was the Beast, his head leaning against the window as Adam had sat in that last dream. His hand cupped his cheek but he looked so still that Duncan was struck by the sudden terrified thought that the Beast was dead.
Duncan fell onto the window-seat beside Death, grasping the hand that lay on his knee and pressing it against his cheek. It was cool, too cool for a Beast, and he rubbed it against his skin to warm it.
“Beast? Lord Death? Are you unwell?”
The dark eyes in the mottled face slowly opened, then blinked at the sight of him. “Duncan MacLeod. I thought that you had forsaken me.”
“Never,” Duncan declared. “I was late in starting back - it was so dark - “
“It doesn’t matter,” the Beast said, his voice slow and quiet, but Duncan was relieved to see that a hint of color was returning to his skin. “You are here now.”
“Yes, and I will never leave you again,” Duncan promised, for he had come to realize that this was where he belonged, where he was happiest. “In fact, I will marry you, if you still wish it.”
There was an odd noise and a great whoosh! of air, and for a moment Duncan thought that a tornado had somehow invaded the castle. The Beast gasped, as if suddenly short of air, and then shook as if possessed by a fit before tumbling out of the window-seat and to the floor. Startled and frightened, Duncan sprang back and clung to the wall, wondering if the castle would fall down around his ears.
And then the noise stopped and the shaking stopped, and the figure of the Beast stopped shaking. Duncan went to his knees beside his betrothed, reaching out a tentative hand to touch hair that was no longer matted and unkempt.
“Beast?” he asked, his voice wavering.
The man looked up, for a man it was and not his beloved Beast. A familiar-looking man, and Duncan said, uncertainly, “Adam?” But it was not quite Adam, either, for this man was older in face and bearing, and in his eyes was the sorrow that had always lingered in the eyes of the Beast.
“My name is Methos,” the man said. “I am both the man you knew as Adam and the Beast you knew as Death. Both, and yet neither, for you have broken the spell cast upon me many, many years ago.”
And Methos told him about the curse and how it was broken, which was a marvelous tale to hear. But even more marvelous to Duncan were the kisses that his new betrothed gave him, kisses that promised that Duncan had finally found the other half of his soul, and that he would never be lonely again.
Later in the morning, they found that forest was no longer enchanted and that Duncan’s family and the inhabitants of the town had come to help them celebrate their marriage. For many days the celebration went on, for everyone was happy that Duncan had found his true love and that the curse was broken. The enchanted castle was enchanted no more, but instead filled with living and breathing servants who saw that all the old dust was swept away and that the guests were well provided for. Ian did indeed marvel over the artwork, and Connor over the chessboards, and Richie fell into a passion for the herd of fine horses. Everyone was delighted for the happy ending.
Except - Duncan found that a castle full of people was just a little too full, and that the time he had to spend with his new husband was too brief. So a week after the wedding ceremony had taken place, Methos placed the care of the castle into the capable hands of his in-laws and took his new husband off to see the world.
And while not all fairy-tale endings are happy, it can be said with truth that this one was.
So now my tale is done, and Beauty has received his reward for being True, while Beast has gained the heart that he thought long lost. And if you have found this tale to your liking, well, Joseph the Bard would be glad for the gift of a coin or two in his cap.
The End
Author: Lumiere
Real Author Name: dkwilliams
Written for: Ishafel
Characters/Pairings: Duncan MacLeod, Methos, Connor, Richie, Ian MacLeod, Joe Dawson if you squint. Duncan MacLeod/Methos pre-slash
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: I am so, so sorry for this. My brain is obviously a very strange place. But when Ishafel said “weird AUs” in her request, this is where my mind went. A bit of an apology to Robin McKinley and Disney, and a whole lot to LePrince de Beaumont.
Summary: An enchanted castle, a curse to be broken, and a Beauty of a Tale to tell.
Come, gather around the fire and listen to tales of magic and mystery! I have stories of adventure, and stories of romance, and stories of brave deeds bravely done! Choose your story, listen till the end, and then drop a coin into the hat to pay for the tale.
What sort of story will you have tonight? A tale of adventure? I know just the sort, a story about a road that lead over the hills and back again. Or perhaps you would prefer a story of magic and romance, the kind that comes upon a person with great subtlety and changes lives. Very well! Fill up your glasses, sit back, and prepare for a story that will enchant you.
In a far off land, in a distant time, there stood a castle deep within an enchanted wood. The castle was old, the oldest in the world, and within the castle lived the oldest being on earth, who had once been a Prince of the Universe, handsome and gifted. But this Prince had fallen into bad company, and had committed horrible deeds that caused his name to be likened unto Death, and so had fallen afoul of a powerful sorceress. She had not been deceived by his fair looks but had instead seen the dark heart within him, and so she had cast a deep and dark enchantment upon him. He was transformed into a hideous beast, marked by the signs of the evil that he had done, and doomed to remain as such until the day when someone would look upon his fearful visage and love him in spite of that. But the Beast had hidden himself away from the world in this enchanted castle, and he was full of despair, for who could ever come to love a beast?
On the other side of the forest was a lovely town nestled in a beautiful valley, the principal town for that area of the kingdom. It was a quiet and peaceful town, full of people who were by turns kind and cruel, industrious and lazy, an ordinary town, full of ordinary people, on the edge of the most extraordinary forest in the world. Everyone knew that the forest held some dark mystery, but all the paths into it were covered with thorns and brambles that defied even the strongest of blades. And so the people of the town ignored the forest with its great mystery and went about their daily lives.
One of the most notable families of the town was the MacLeods. They had founded the town many years before, and the current patriarch of the family was Ian MacLeod, a man of great wealth and firm temperament. He was a businessman of great renowned, with a number of shops across the kingdom and many boats that sailed to distant shores to bring back priceless items for sale. He also bred the finest horses in the kingdom, horses that could run faster and longer than any other. But for all his wealth and influence, Ian was also known to be a kind man and a good father to his three motherless sons.
Comely and good were the sons of MacLeod, each of them blessed with different talents. Connor was the eldest, as wiry and sharply built as the swords that he favored above all things. Connor was also knowledgeable about the value of objects and was of great assistance to his father in his business, and he travelled to neighboring towns, trading for goods with a shrewd eye and a thrifty heart.
The youngest was Richard, and he was as hot-tempered and fiery as his hair. His greatest joy was in the fast horses that his father bred, and he had a way with the proud creatures that made all who saw him marvel. His were the hands that delivered the new foals and guided them to their mothers, and his were the hands that broke yearlings to the saddle and rein without breaking their spirits.
But Ian's greatest joy was in his middle son, Duncan. From the time of his birth, Duncan had been blessed with beauty of countenance and of spirit. He had wisdom beyond his years and a well-deserved reputation for fairness and justice. His counsel was called upon by men with more years than he to their tally, and all who sought his counsel came away with lightened hearts. His father relied upon him for assistance in many matters concerning the treatment of his employees, relying on his ability to see beyond the surface. And even though Connor sometimes complained that Duncan got all the pretty women, and Richie sometimes chaffed under Duncan's advice, both brothers loved him dearly and he loved them in return.
But what Duncan loved most of all was knowledge. He had, as his brothers, gone to the town priest for instruction in his letters and numbers but, unlike his brothers, he had continued under Father Darius' tutelage even when he became a man. He loved the books and music his teacher gave him, but even more than that he loved the stories that Darius told about his travels to distant lands when he was younger. Duncan longed to travel as well, to see the wonders that Father Darius spoke about, but he knew that he would never be allowed to do so. His place was there with his family, in the town where he was born. Still, he could dream, and in his dreams he traveled to distant places and saw wondrous sights.
Even more wondrous was that in his dreams there was always someone by his side, someone who loved and understood him, someone whose face he could not see, no matter how hard he tried. For Duncan was lonely. It wasn’t that he could not find willing partners, for many a lass or lad was willing enough for a tumble with so comely a young man. But he could not find anyone who felt as he did about books and travel, and after Father Darius went to his final rest, Duncan was lonely indeed.
In the same year that Father Darius passed on, there came a series of disasters to this kingdom. Floods and fire and famine - all were visited upon the hapless inhabitants. Even the powerful MacLeod family suffered under these unending calamities, through fires at their warehouses and storms at sea that wrecked their ships. They were forced to sell off all their goods and shops, and most of the fine furnishings in their home. Their horses were also sold, all but one mare, just to put bread on their table and pennies in the poor box, and when they could no longer afford to support the poor of the town, it was a very dark day for all.
But one day a whisper of good news came to Ian MacLeod, from the distant port on the other side of the forest. One of his lost ships had come into port, and the cargo of that ship would be enough to restore their fortunes and that of the town. The entire town took heart and came to see Ian off, and so full of hope was he that he asked each of his sons what they wanted him to bring home for them.
Connor asked for one of the new swords from the East, so sharp that they were said to be able to cut through silk like it was butter. With such a sword, he would be better able to ward off the bandits that attacked their shipments and wounded their employees.
Richie asked for a stallion from far Arabia. With a fine stud and the mare they’d kept, he would rebuild their stables and they would once again be renowned for their stock.
And Duncan asked for nothing.
Pressed by his father, Duncan finally admitted that what he missed the most was the fine library they’d had to sell, and he asked for his father to bring him a book, preferably one about travel to distant lands.
Ian promised to do his best and, after bidding his sons farewell, he set off for the port town along the road that encircled the great enchanted forest. When he arrived at that distant town, however, he was disappointed to learn that the goods contained on the ship had been badly damaged in the storms that had beset it, and the sale of the goods was barely enough to cover the cost of his trip.
Disheartened, he set off for home again. He was within a half-day of home when a sudden blinding storm drove him off the main road and into the shelter of the forest. There he rode for hours, lost and tired and cold, until he suddenly came upon a castle in the middle of the forest. It was large and elegant, but it seemed empty of all life. He put his horse into a stall in the fine barn, in which oats and hay had already been set out, and then made his way into the castle.
Ian wandered into the hall, hoping for at least rough shelter for the night, and was surprised when the candles sprang to life. Even more surprising was the hot supper laid out for him on the dining table. Ian looked about the room but could find no indication that the food was intended for another person. Deciding that he would apologize and explain when the master of the castle showed up, he cleaned his hands and face and, with a hearty appetite, sat down to a better meal than he had enjoyed in months, accompanied by the finest wine that he had ever tasted.
After he had finished, he was wondering if he should clean the dishes or leave them be when the dishes suddenly vanished from his sight. Greatly startled by this, he crossed himself and went out into the hallway, determined to spend the night with his horse in the safety of the stables. But a door down the hallway swung open and he heard the sound of water being poured, so he decided to see if he could find the master of this castle.
The room was an empty but elegantly appointed bedchamber. A large metal tub had been drawn up before the fireplace, and he could see the steam rising from the water. A large bed lay beyond it, piled high with blankets and fine linen, but there was no indication that anyone had ever slept in it. The wardrobe was bare as well, although a fine nightshirt had been draped over a chair nearest to the fire. With a shrug, he closed the bedchamber door, peeled out of his damp clothes, and settled into the tub for a much appreciated bath.
Fearing to fall asleep and drown, Ian finally pulled himself out of the tub and donned the nightshirt, then crawled into the bed. It was as comfortable as it looked, a bed that a prince would be proud to sleep in, and Ian was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.
In the morning when he awoke, there was still no sign of mortal life, but a basin of warm water and a fresh towel had been laid out on the washstand, and a covered tray sat on the little table by the window. His clothes had been cleaned and pressed and hung on a hook beside the wardrobe, and his boots had been polished till they shone. Ian washed his face and brushed his hair, dressed in his clothes, and sat down to a breakfast of rolls that melted in his mouth and rich hot chocolate.
Idly, he picked up a book that was lying on the table and leafed through it while he ate. It was a tale of travel to distant lands, and with a pang he recalled that he hadn’t been able to bring his sons any gifts. He looked at the book and thought that if he could find the owner of the castle, he would ask for the loan of the book, and if not, well, surely such a small thing wouldn’t be missed, not in this great castle.
His horse was waiting at the front door, already saddled and looking as well-fed and groomed as Ian felt. Ian turned around in a circle, looking for a sign of life, then shrugged and called out a thank you to the castle. Then he turned to his horse and tucked the little book into his saddlebag.
A roar sounded behind him and Ian wheeled around, terrified. There before him stood a horrible monster, armed with the largest sword that Ian had ever seen. The monster’s head was covered with thick coarse hair, matted and tangled, and its skin was covered with mottled blue and white markings. Skins covered its body, and rough fabric that looked more suited to a hovel than a castle.
“Is this the thanks I get for my hospitality?” the Beast roared. “We have given you food to eat and a warm bed to sleep in, and in return you steal from me?”
“I beg your pardon, most abjectly,” Ian replied, shaking in his boots at the sight of the fierce beast and its fearsome weapon. “I saw no sign of life within - I only thought to borrow it, for my son. Please, I do not have much in coin, but I will repay you the worth of the book.”
“You have stolen from me, and your life is the price!”
It was the final straw in a year of woe, and Ian found himself telling the Beast all his troubles, and of the goodness of his children who would be made orphans. He spoke of his last hope to bring a little gift to his beloved son, but the Beast was stern. He told Ian that he could go home to set his affairs in order, but he must return in a week or the Beast would hunt him down and destroy him and his people.
“Your only hope was to have someone else return in your place, one of your sons,” the Beast said finally. “Now take the book and go!”
It was a pallid and greatly-aged man who rode up to the empty stables of the MacLeod house, by way of the path from the enchanted forest. His sons ran to meet him, frightened by his pale face and trembling hands. Ian pulled himself together enough to greet them and give them the bad news about the ship, planning to keep the rest to himself.
Connor frowned and pointed towards the stables. “Then what is that?” he asked.
Ian looked around and saw that a pony was tied up beside his horse, bearing packs that bulged with silk and fine jewels. Beside the pony was a magnificent stallion and three mares, complete with their tack, and a fine sword was attached to the saddle of each. Three of the horses were black as night and labeled for each MacLeod, but one was grey with a note on its bridle that said "For Duncan".
Duncan went to the horse and pulled a book out of the bag tied to the saddle, and at the sight of it, Ian broke down weeping in despair.
They took him inside and the story tumbled out of him. Duncan immediately said that he would go in his father’s place, since the book was for him. Ian protested - he was old, he’d lived his life - and his brothers protested - they would take their swords and end this Beast - but Duncan was adamant.
At the end of the week, Duncan mounted the grey horse with nothing but the little book in his pocket, and he rode down the path that led into the enchanted forest. The brambles and branches that overgrew the path pulled back before him and then closed behind, and in this manner, he found the castle quite easily. The stable was waiting for his horse, and the castle was eerily empty, just as his father had said, but Duncan was not afraid. It was a great adventure, it seemed, like in his books, and the only pity was that it must end so soon with his death.
He wandered through the rooms, finding them all beautifully furnished but empty. Now and again, he heard a faint noise as if someone was whispering in the next room, but he never saw a soul. Eventually, he came upon a room that had sign upon it saying “The Highlander’s Room”, which he knew was meant for him for that was his nickname among his friends and family. It was a beautiful room, with a large and cheerful fire built up against the draft of the castle. A fine suit of clothing had been laid out on the bed and, with great relief, he stripped off his travel-stained apparel and donned the new clothes.
Dressed to befit his surroundings, he continued his exploration and found a great library, where he happily lost himself for a few hours in reading, for the shelves seemed to be filled with his old favorites as well as new books that Father Darius had spoken of. It wasn’t until the candles above the fireplace sprang to life that he realized the day had passed and that he was very hungry.
He walked back down the corridor to the great dining room that he’d noted upon his arrival and, as his father had said, saw that it was laid with food for a single diner. Duncan took his seat, wondering if the Beast was away from the castle and whether he would live to see another day. He thought wistfully of the library, with the books to be read, and sighed.
“Why do you sigh, Duncan MacLeod?” asked a voice from behind him. “Is something not to your liking?”
Duncan sprang up from his chair, swinging around to see a Beast-like figure standing in the doorway. After his father’s words, Duncan was prepared to see a huge, hideous monster, so he was very surprised by the sight before him. The Beast was tall but not as broad in the shoulders as Duncan. He bore not the semblance of an animal, save for the clothes that he had wrapped himself in, and it was only the wild tangle of hair and the odd markings on his face made him look hideous and fierce.
He made the mistake of saying this out-loud, at which point the Beast drew himself up and appeared larger than before, and quite terrifying. His eyes glittered with anger and his voice became cold and harsh. “I am Death,” he said. “I have killed hundreds, no, thousands! When mothers warned their children that the monster would get them, that monster was me. I was the nightmare that kept them awake at night. I am the Beast that you see before you.”
“Then what do you want with me?” asked Duncan.
The Beast called Death came closer, until he stood directly before Duncan. “I want you to marry me.”
Duncan caught his breath. “How am I to answer that?”
“Honestly. Truthfully.”
“Then no, I will not.”
Death’s mouth tightened and for a moment Duncan feared that he would die, but then the Beast made a little bow to him.
“In that case, I will leave you to your supper. Good night, Highlander. I will see you tomorrow night.”
Once Death had left the room, Duncan sat down to his meal but his appetite had fled and so he merely picked at his food. Finally, unable to bear the large dining hall with its shadows, Duncan fled to his room. The warmth of the merry fire dancing in the fireplace soon calmed his nerves, and he was touched to find the book that he had been reading in the library sitting on the small table next to a comfortable armchair. He read until he couldn’t keep his eyes open, falling asleep sitting in the chair, and then he dreamed.
In his sleep, Duncan dreamed that he was walking through the castle, as he had earlier that day. As he walked, though, he came across a room that he hadn’t seen earlier, a small and cozy library. Sitting before the fire was a young man with a shy, engaging smile who looked up as he entered.
“Hello,” the young man said. “Come in, Duncan MacLeod. Have a drink.” He nodded toward the table where a decanter and glass stood waiting for him.
“You know my name?” Duncan asked.
“Of course. I am Adam. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Duncan moved forward, ignoring the decanter. “Are you a prisoner of the Beast, too?”
Adam shrugged. “In a manner of speaking.”
“Have you been here a long time?”
“All my life,” Adam said simply. “I have been lonely for company.”
“It appears that I will be here for a long time as well,” Duncan said with a sigh.
“Then we will become great friends. Sleep well, Highlander.”
Duncan woke up abruptly and looked around. The dream had seemed so real that for a moment he wasn’t certain if he was sleeping or awake. The fire had died down and the room growing chill, so he set aside his book and went to bed.
Weeks passed in this fashion. By day, Duncan explored. Inside the castle, he found an art gallery and a music room, in addition to the fine library. On the vast grounds were magnificent gardens and stables that housed a splendid herd of grey horses. There were antiques and beautiful furnishings in every room. But look as he might, he could not find the room where Adam lived, except in his dreams at night.
In the evening, Death arrived shortly after Duncan had finished his meal and they began to spend more and more time together. Death had traveled the world and knew most of its languages, and he shared his stories with Duncan many evenings. Sometimes he would bring a book that he wanted to draw Duncan’s attention to, and sometimes they would play chess. Despite his intentions, Duncan found that he had come to like the beastly Death, and even that he would miss him should they part. But each evening as they parted, when Death asked him to marry him, Duncan hardened his heart and said no.
Every night, once his head had touched his pillow, Duncan dreamed of Adam, although the dream always seemed as real as the daylight world. In his dreams, they become friends, reading together and talking over many things. Adam always seemed so sad and one day, impulsively, Duncan kissed him. Adam returned the kiss, briefly, and then turned his head away.
“You must not kiss me,” Adam warned.
“Why? Is it because the Beast wants me to marry him?”
“And will you?”
“No!” Duncan said, quite forcefully. “He told me of the deaths he caused, the lives he destroyed. I don’t think that I can forgive him for that.”
“It is not up to you to forgive,” Adam said with a sigh. “It was a different time, Highlander. A different world. People change.”
“Even a Beast? Even Death?”
“Even Death.”
Duncan woke from his dream, and for the first time he did not feel soothed by his dreams. He stayed in his rooms all day, even taking his dinner there. After the dishes disappeared from the table, there was a tap on his door.
“Highlander, are you unwell?” came the concerned voice of the Beast through the door.
Duncan thought of claiming illness but couldn’t lie to the Beast. “I am well,” he replied. “I just need to be alone tonight.”
“You will let me know if you have need of anything? You have only to say the words and you shall have what you want.”
I want to go home.
For the first time since his arrival, homesickness overwhelmed him and he would have given anything to be at home, even as it was during the worst of times. But it was the only thing he could not ask for, as he had given his word.
That night he dreamed that he wandered the castle finding only empty rooms, until finally he came to the room where Adam was imprisoned. The other man was pale and silent, his back turned to Duncan.
“What is wrong?” Duncan demanded of him. “Why do you not talk to me? Why won’t you let me kiss you? Why don’t you trust me?”
“It is you who lack trust,” Adam said, his voice low, but he did not turn around. And a moment later, Duncan woke up, feeling as if he hadn’t slept in weeks.
He left his room right after breaking his fast in the morning, but he was unable to settle down anywhere. Everything he saw made him more homesick, thinking how his father would enjoy the fine artwork and how Connor would admire the chessboards that the Beast had collected. He watched the horses running free and thought how much Richie would delight in their beauty. Even the books failed to interest him for they reminded him of how kindly the Beast had shared his library, and of the books he had discussed with both Death and Adam.
When the Beast joined him that evening, he was immediately concerned. “Highlander, you are unwell! You should have called for help! Are you in pain?”
“Yes,” Duncan said lowly, “but it is a pain that you cannot cure. I am homesick. I miss my family and wish I could see them again, even if just for a day.”
The Beast was silent for a moment, and Duncan didn’t dare look at him to see if he was angered.
“I can give you a day.”
Surprise made Duncan turn to look at the Beast. “What?”
“I can give you a day with your family. If you leave first thing in the morning and promise to return in the evening, then I can give you that time with your family. But you must swear to return before night.”
“I swear!” Duncan said eagerly. “If you will let me go, I swear to return before dark.”
“Then go, but remember your promise, Highlander.”
Duncan was so delighted that he sprang up from his chair. He embraced Death and kissed his cheek, then dashed to his room to ready himself for the morning. He did not look back or he would have seen that the Beast sat in his chair, still as Death, with his hand pressed against the place that Duncan had kissed.
Duncan dreamt again that night, and just as the previous night, it took him forever to find Adam. When he did, Adam was curled in the window seat looking desolate. Duncan told him his good news but Adam looked even more unhappy.
“You are deserting me,” Adam said bleakly.
“No!” Duncan reassured him. “I am your friend, and I will be back. I promised to keep you company while you are the Beast’s captive, and to rescue you from him if I can.”
“It is not Death who is the cause of my unhappiness.”
Duncan frowned. “You always take his side. I think that you are in love with Death, not me.”
Adam sighed. “Oh, Highlander! I am not in love with Death, but he will always be part of me.”
Duncan woke, feeling oddly disquieted, as if he had missed something.
He fell back asleep but his dreams were ordinary, and when he woke it was to a castle that was as still as the grave. There was no breakfast on the little table but he paid no mind to that, dressing hastily and throwing on his cloak before racing to the stable. His horse was waiting, already saddled, and before dawn had done much more than extend its tendrils toward the sky, he was on the road to home.
To say that his family was overjoyed to see him is like saying that a starving man is glad to see food. They hugged him and hung on him, asking him question after question before interrupting his reply to hug him again. They listened to his stories of the castle and its grounds with awe and wonder, although his description of the Beast made Richie’s face darken with anger and caused Connor to express the wish to see the Beast dead.
“Oh no!” Duncan said, horrified at the thought. “He is my friend!”
And as he said that, he realized that it was true. The Beast and Adam were both his friends, and the thought of never seeing them again made his heart ache. In fact, he was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to return to the castle, to see the Beast again just to make certain that he was all right. But his family was so delighted to see him that he pushed back the urge to run from them, telling them yet again about the castle and its library.
Word had spread through the town that Duncan had returned from his travels, and the afternoon found the family descended upon by the good-natured townsfolk bearing all manner of food and drink. So merry did they make that it wasn’t until they began to light the torches that Duncan realized that evening was upon them.
“I must go!” he said, jumping up from where he sat. “I promised that I would return at dark.”
“But it is just barely evening!” his father protested.
“I gave my word,” Duncan said.
“Surely this Beast will not expect you to travel through those woods at night!” Connor said. “You will be unable to see the road - there is no moon to guide your way. Leave in the morning instead; that is the sensible thing to do.”
The night was indeed quite dark, for it was a new moon, and Duncan reluctantly agreed. But from that moment on, he could not enjoy the evening. He felt ill at ease, as if something pained him, and he could not settle in one place for long. When the party broke and he went to his old bed to sleep, he could not find rest but instead tossed and turned. Finally, somewhere after midnight, he gave up trying to sleep.
Duncan dressed quietly and slipped downstairs, careful to lock the door after he let himself out. His horse was pacing in her stall, equally restless, and she gave a whinny of joy at seeing him.
“I know, girl,” he said softly, rubbing her nose. “We should not have left him.”
Quickly he saddled the horse and grabbed a lantern to help find his way, then mounted up. As before, the branches and brambles parted as he made his way down the woodland path, but it seemed to him that they moved slowly, as if they were fighting against overwhelming exhaustion. He restrained the urge to go faster, to press through the tangle, knowing that it was futile but with every mile he felt as if time was running out.
At last they reached the castle, and Duncan was alarmed to see that the lights of the torches on the exterior walls only sputtered, not catching. He slid off the mare and knotted the reins on the saddle, promising to return to tend to his worthy horse, but he needed to be in the castle now. The rooms seemed emptier that ever, the candles providing only a faint light and the doors refusing to open on their own. He walked, and then he ran, down the corridors and peering into all the rooms, looking for Death but there was no sign of him. The castle was as still as a tomb.
At last, at last, he came upon Death’s private rooms, where he had never been allowed before. To his surprise, he recognized the outer room as the private library where Adam was to be found. Sitting in the window-seat was the Beast, his head leaning against the window as Adam had sat in that last dream. His hand cupped his cheek but he looked so still that Duncan was struck by the sudden terrified thought that the Beast was dead.
Duncan fell onto the window-seat beside Death, grasping the hand that lay on his knee and pressing it against his cheek. It was cool, too cool for a Beast, and he rubbed it against his skin to warm it.
“Beast? Lord Death? Are you unwell?”
The dark eyes in the mottled face slowly opened, then blinked at the sight of him. “Duncan MacLeod. I thought that you had forsaken me.”
“Never,” Duncan declared. “I was late in starting back - it was so dark - “
“It doesn’t matter,” the Beast said, his voice slow and quiet, but Duncan was relieved to see that a hint of color was returning to his skin. “You are here now.”
“Yes, and I will never leave you again,” Duncan promised, for he had come to realize that this was where he belonged, where he was happiest. “In fact, I will marry you, if you still wish it.”
There was an odd noise and a great whoosh! of air, and for a moment Duncan thought that a tornado had somehow invaded the castle. The Beast gasped, as if suddenly short of air, and then shook as if possessed by a fit before tumbling out of the window-seat and to the floor. Startled and frightened, Duncan sprang back and clung to the wall, wondering if the castle would fall down around his ears.
And then the noise stopped and the shaking stopped, and the figure of the Beast stopped shaking. Duncan went to his knees beside his betrothed, reaching out a tentative hand to touch hair that was no longer matted and unkempt.
“Beast?” he asked, his voice wavering.
The man looked up, for a man it was and not his beloved Beast. A familiar-looking man, and Duncan said, uncertainly, “Adam?” But it was not quite Adam, either, for this man was older in face and bearing, and in his eyes was the sorrow that had always lingered in the eyes of the Beast.
“My name is Methos,” the man said. “I am both the man you knew as Adam and the Beast you knew as Death. Both, and yet neither, for you have broken the spell cast upon me many, many years ago.”
And Methos told him about the curse and how it was broken, which was a marvelous tale to hear. But even more marvelous to Duncan were the kisses that his new betrothed gave him, kisses that promised that Duncan had finally found the other half of his soul, and that he would never be lonely again.
Later in the morning, they found that forest was no longer enchanted and that Duncan’s family and the inhabitants of the town had come to help them celebrate their marriage. For many days the celebration went on, for everyone was happy that Duncan had found his true love and that the curse was broken. The enchanted castle was enchanted no more, but instead filled with living and breathing servants who saw that all the old dust was swept away and that the guests were well provided for. Ian did indeed marvel over the artwork, and Connor over the chessboards, and Richie fell into a passion for the herd of fine horses. Everyone was delighted for the happy ending.
Except - Duncan found that a castle full of people was just a little too full, and that the time he had to spend with his new husband was too brief. So a week after the wedding ceremony had taken place, Methos placed the care of the castle into the capable hands of his in-laws and took his new husband off to see the world.
And while not all fairy-tale endings are happy, it can be said with truth that this one was.
So now my tale is done, and Beauty has received his reward for being True, while Beast has gained the heart that he thought long lost. And if you have found this tale to your liking, well, Joseph the Bard would be glad for the gift of a coin or two in his cap.
The End