Fic: Turning Back
Title: Turning Back
Fandom: Disney's Beauty and the Beast
Words: 440
Rating: G
Genre: Friendship
Summary: AU. What if Belle hadn't run when the Beast attacked her in the West Wing?
Characters/Pairing: Belle, Beast
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: None of it is mine, sadly.
Notes: This was written for disney_uberland's Rewrite Challenge, in which we basically had to choose a piece of the canon and then say "What if...?" I'm also using this for Prompt 87, "Courage" on 100_women
When reared up on his hind legs and roaring, the Beast was nothing short of terrifying. Belle would freely attest to that. When he screamed at her to get out, she didn’t need to be told twice. And yet, as she reached the door of the West Wing, she felt the need to turn back to get one last look at her captor. He roared at her again, but she found that suddenly she wasn’t scared anymore. The Beast roared at her again, and though her eyes widened a little and her legs definitely told her to run, she stood firm, simply tilting her head to the side to show her disapproval.
The Beast, used to years of nothing but obedience, was momentarily taken aback by this sudden defiance. He grunted, and tried to look threatening again, but the moment had passed, so instead, he turned his back on Belle. Belle wondered if he was actually sulking, and smiled quietly to herself, before walking back to him. She placed a hand on the Beast’s back, feeling the coarseness of his fur on her fingers, and a shiver that ran through him at her touch. He turned to look at her, and she saw sadness in his eyes. In that moment, she knew there was much more to him than immediately met the eye.
“Who did this to you?” she asked softly.
The Beast’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment, before he realised he was giving himself away. He tried to avoid Belle’s gaze, but her eyes were probing, and he somehow knew that now she’d figured him out, she wouldn’t rest until she knew his story.
“When I was younger,” he began, “I made a mistake. A stupid mistake. There was an old woman who came to the castle...” Slowly, sitting in the West Wing amongst torn curtains and overturned chairs, the Beast opened up to Belle about the curse that had been laid upon him. Belle felt her heart ache for him; she couldn’t imagine what he had been through.
When the Beast reached the part about the enchanted rose, and how he had to find someone to love and who loved him before his twenty-first birthday, Belle wondered if somehow she had been meant to find the castle, if she was the one who supposed to break the spell. She regarded the Beast. He was certainly no Prince Charming, but if he learnt to control that temper of his, Belle believed he could be gentleman.
She didn’t love him, not yet anyway, but she resolved right then that she would do whatever she could to help him.
Fandom: Disney's Beauty and the Beast
Words: 440
Rating: G
Genre: Friendship
Summary: AU. What if Belle hadn't run when the Beast attacked her in the West Wing?
Characters/Pairing: Belle, Beast
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: None of it is mine, sadly.
Notes: This was written for disney_uberland's Rewrite Challenge, in which we basically had to choose a piece of the canon and then say "What if...?" I'm also using this for Prompt 87, "Courage" on 100_women
When reared up on his hind legs and roaring, the Beast was nothing short of terrifying. Belle would freely attest to that. When he screamed at her to get out, she didn’t need to be told twice. And yet, as she reached the door of the West Wing, she felt the need to turn back to get one last look at her captor. He roared at her again, but she found that suddenly she wasn’t scared anymore. The Beast roared at her again, and though her eyes widened a little and her legs definitely told her to run, she stood firm, simply tilting her head to the side to show her disapproval.
The Beast, used to years of nothing but obedience, was momentarily taken aback by this sudden defiance. He grunted, and tried to look threatening again, but the moment had passed, so instead, he turned his back on Belle. Belle wondered if he was actually sulking, and smiled quietly to herself, before walking back to him. She placed a hand on the Beast’s back, feeling the coarseness of his fur on her fingers, and a shiver that ran through him at her touch. He turned to look at her, and she saw sadness in his eyes. In that moment, she knew there was much more to him than immediately met the eye.
“Who did this to you?” she asked softly.
The Beast’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment, before he realised he was giving himself away. He tried to avoid Belle’s gaze, but her eyes were probing, and he somehow knew that now she’d figured him out, she wouldn’t rest until she knew his story.
“When I was younger,” he began, “I made a mistake. A stupid mistake. There was an old woman who came to the castle...” Slowly, sitting in the West Wing amongst torn curtains and overturned chairs, the Beast opened up to Belle about the curse that had been laid upon him. Belle felt her heart ache for him; she couldn’t imagine what he had been through.
When the Beast reached the part about the enchanted rose, and how he had to find someone to love and who loved him before his twenty-first birthday, Belle wondered if somehow she had been meant to find the castle, if she was the one who supposed to break the spell. She regarded the Beast. He was certainly no Prince Charming, but if he learnt to control that temper of his, Belle believed he could be gentleman.
She didn’t love him, not yet anyway, but she resolved right then that she would do whatever she could to help him.