Rose Bound Magic

by Caitlin Crowe

  Beast frowned. “Why did Sidero give the mirror to you? When was she here? I don’t remember seeing her.”

  “Well, it was some time ago, although I couldn’t tell you exactly when. As far as I know, Sidero was only in my suite. She allowed me three requests when I first got here, and I hadn’t used any yet when she visited. She suggested the mirror in exchange for one of my favors.” Bell couldn’t decipher the emotions flicking over Beast’s face, one right after the other.

  He watched with a shrewd twist of his lips as he asked his next question. “Why did you get three requests? None of the Fae would be generous without some ulterior motive, especially Sidero. What did she want from you in return, Belladonna?”

  Looking down at her hands Bell worried her lips. “I don’t know, and that unsettles me. She said I can ask for any three requests, as long as they aren’t to get out of my deal. She didn’t ask for anything, at least not that I can remember. All she said was that I interested her and that her magic is different than the other Fae’s. Quite honestly, she scares me, which is part of the reason why I hadn’t asked for anything on my own.”

  She glanced at Beast, who had stopped watching her and was staring, brooding, out at the now calm pond. Bell chose not to break the silence, instead letting it stretch as she pondered why Sidero had given her such liberties.

  Beast grabbed her hand, and she looked up at his scarred face. “What happened this morning, Belladonna? I caught some of it, but I feel like I missed something important. Is everyone okay? Is that woman related to you?”

  Before she could stop herself, words were bubbling up and falling out of her mouth. Seizing his hand for comfort, Bell told him everything – how she had never liked her sister’s husband, how her sister had stopped visiting when they noticed the first bruises, and how no one said anything, but they all knew her bruises weren’t caused by simple accidents. How Geranium had shown up on the doorstep of Flor Cottage, beaten beyond recognition, and how Bell had watched her family and Dr. Jayr save her. Bell held back no detail, telling Beast everything. At some point, he pulled her close again, and she rested her head on his shoulder. Ending with the discovery that Geranium couldn’t see, Bell said no more, exhausted from the exodus of words and feelings.

  They sat together on the bench for a long time, each moment comforting her.

  “I’m so sorry, Belladonna. I wish there was something I could do.” He squeezed her shoulder tighter. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here. I’m sorry you can’t be at home with your family right now.”

  “How do you do it, Beast? How do you stay sane even though you know things are happening to those you love? That time passes, and you don’t know if they’re dead or not?” Even knowing it was a rude and inconsiderate question, she hadn’t managed to squelch it down.

  His hand squeezed hers. “I didn’t. I told you before that you can’t die here. The grief drove me into madness for a long, long time. I tried very hard to move on, but no matter what I did, nothing worked. My body always healed itself after a while. Even if my parents were gone, I still had friends and the staff of the Palace that raised me. It was an endless cycle of imagining what happened to them, followed by had they died yet.”

  Taking the grief in her chest into consideration, Bell understood how someone could be driven mad by it. Peeking out from under her lashes, she saw that he was looking up at the sky. “How did you stop it?”

  His lips twisted into an empty smile that held no humor. “Why, Belladonna, I realized enough time had passed that they were all dead anyway. I realized I could mourn them truly, and after time it became bearable. Even when time doesn’t behave, it still bandages all ills.”

  Neither spoke, both lost in their own thoughts. It didn’t seem Beast was going to address the fact they had shared a bed the night before, and she wanted to know why he had been screaming. Working up the courage, she asked, “Beast, what happened last night? It was nightmarish for both Fluffy and me.”

  Rising, he turned back to the Palace but not before Bell saw his face pale. “We better get going. I’m sure Fluffy is wondering where we are. I left him inside.”

  Perplexed, Bell continued to sit, watching Beast walk away. He didn’t want to talk about what had happened, even though they had awoken that morning in each other’s arms? No, that wouldn’t do. Bell sprang up and ran after him, grabbing his arm and yanking him back.

  Shocked by her abruptness, he turned.

  “Oh no, you don’t! You aren’t just going to walk away from me! You TERRIFIED me last night! I was so scared for you! You’re going to tell me what’s going on because I want to know. No, actually, I deserve to know. I am your friend Beast, and you’re going to confide in me like one.” She stood resolute, refusing to move or release his arm until he explained.

  “Friend?” he asked, bewildered.

  Annoyed, Bell rolled her eyes and snapped, “Of course we are! What else would we be? You are my friend, and I was scared for you!”

  Beast searched her face and seemed to find what he was looking for. He whispered, “I get night terrors. No, I don’t think they’re night terrors at all. I think they’re the Fae’s version of an entertaining punishment. Every night when I fall asleep, I experience how one of the people who perished died. I get to experience death through the eyes of everyone over and over again.”

  Bell heard the words but didn’t understand them. “You mean… last night when you were screaming… you were…” she trailed off, her brain catching up. “No. Oh, no.” Without thinking, she flung herself at Beast, wrapping him in a tight hug. He stood there awkwardly before raising his arms and wrapping them around her. “I am so terribly sorry, Beast. That’s horrible and cruel!” she said, her voice muffled by his chest.

  She stepped back, momentarily confused. “But why didn’t you wake up? I don’t understand. You stayed asleep even when I was shaking you.”

  Gesturing towards the path, the pair resumed their trek back to the Palace. “The magic of the Palace provides me with a tea I drink every evening before bed. There used to be an old witch that the Fae would allow to visit for whatever reason, and she would give me the blend. Once she was gone, the house picked up the habit. It doesn’t make the dreams go away, but it keeps me asleep. Otherwise, I wake up and can’t go back to sleep, sometimes for days.”

  “Tea? That’s interesting – I wonder what’s in it. I wish I had Papa’s big book, I’m sure it’d be able to tell me…” Her voice trailed off as she halted.

  Beast took several steps before he realized that Bell was no longer beside him. Turning, he looked at her questioningly. Her mouth was opening and closing, but no sound was coming out. “What?!” he asked, alarmed, coming back to her.

  “I didn’t drink the tea last night. The teapot is always ready for me when I go to bed, and I drink it. Last night I was so upset about everything that was happening at home that I didn’t even think about it. Do you think… do you think I’ve been drinking the same tea, and that’s why I’ve never heard you screaming before?”

  Neither spoke for a long moment. They stood looking at each other, recognizing that they already knew the answer.

  “Yes. I know I scream every night. With our suites being next to each other, I’m sure you would have heard me before last night, Belladonna.”

  Giving a small nod, she started walking again. When they reached the door to the kitchen, Bell said, “I’m glad I didn’t drink the tea last night. I’m glad I was there for you.” She entered, leaving Beast standing on the doorstep, stunned.

  Beast rose from his chair in the library. Bell looked up – she had been flipping the mirror, lost in thought. Earlier in the evening, she had tried to check on her sister, but it seemed there was a time limit on how long the mirror could be used. After a faint swirling across the surface, Bell was left with only her reflection.

  “I’m going to bed.” Beast groaned, stretching. Seeing Bell rise as well, he hastily asked, “What are you doing?”

  �
��I’m going to bed with you.” Raising an eyebrow at his confusion, she continued towards him.

  Beast stuttered, “What – you – bed – my bed?”

  Bell laughed and tapped his chest as she passed.

  Spluttering the entire way upstairs, he seemed unable to form any coherent thought. Smirking, she was pleased with having flustered him so thoroughly. Bell was almost at the door she assumed was Beast’s when he rushed past her to block it with his arms.

  “You are not coming in here,” he growled.

  She patted his cheek before sailing under his arm into the room.

  “No! Wait! You can’t come in here!” he squealed, his intimidating façade crumbling from the panic in his words.

  Bell twirled around and stabbed him in the chest with a finger, halting him and his protests. “If you think that I can sleep in the room next to you knowing that you are being tormented, and drug myself to ignore it, you are out of your mind.” She punctuated every other word with a hard jab. Without giving him a chance to respond, she started heading to his bed-chamber. His rooms seemed to be a mirror image of her own.

  Before she had made it out of the sitting room, she was enveloped from behind in Beast’s strong arms. Pulling her close, he rested his chin on the top of her head. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Bell stood enveloped by him, wondering how her life had brought her to such an unusual circumstance.

  “I need to go to my own rooms and get ready for bed. I’ll bring my bedding back so I can sleep on the ground.”

  “Ground?” yelped Beast, reminiscent of Fluffy’s yips. “You can’t sleep on the ground! I’ll sleep on the ground!”

  Ignoring him, Bell used his surprise to slip from his arms and head towards the connecting door to her suite. Returning to Beast’s chamber, she found him curled on the ground with Fluffy.

  “Get up! Get up!” she poked him with her toe. He opened one eye and looked up at her.

  “What? Why are you disturbing my sleep, woman?”

  Nudging Fluffy so he would rise as well, Bell said, “You are not sleeping on the ground, you are sleeping in your own bed, in your own room. The last thing I want is for you to thrash around and knock something over and have it fall on you. So up you go.”

  Beast rose but didn’t move towards the bed. “I will sleep on the ground; you will sleep on the bed. And if you insist on sleeping on the ground, then I’ll be sleeping on the ground, too.”

  “Fine! We’ll both sleep in the bed!” Bell conceded, throwing her arms up in frustration. “Ungrateful brat,” she muttered to herself as she plopped down.

  Beast settled down beside her, smiling to himself. “Goodnight, Belladonna. Goodnight, Fluffy.”

  Every morning the two of them rose, and Bell grabbed the mirror to check on Geranium. She continued to improve, but her eyesight had yet to return. Bell had an inkling that her sister would be living in darkness for the rest of her life. Papa and Poppy continued to act as if everything would be alright, but everyone seemed to know that the day where she could see again would never arrive.

  It pained Bell to see her family suffering and be unable to help, but she knew that there was nothing she could do, even if she was home. She would only be one more mouth to feed and one more person in the already cramped cottage.

  More often than not, Beast ended up holding her afterward as she cried. Something had shifted between Bell and Beast, although she didn’t know what. He no longer avoided touching her and even began cautiously reaching out, whether it was to comfort her or to brush a stray hair back into place.

  At first, every touch had made Bell blush, unused to such casual contact, but now each was a small comfort. It had never occurred to her that so much could be conveyed through so little – every brush of his fingers reminded her she wasn’t alone in this place.

  With each passing moment, Bell was sickened by this prison more and more, her heart burning with hatred. Hatred for her position, hatred for her entrapment, hatred towards the Fae. The spacious rooms grew smaller, almost claustrophobic each time she entered. When Beast touched her a little more room was created, a little more space for her to exist.

  On another bright and sunny afternoon, Beast and Fluffy had joined her on the picnic blanket when she turned to Beast, astonished. “Beast, I can’t believe I’ve never asked you this before. I feel quite dim.” He turned to her, his brow creasing at her sickened expression.

  “What, Belladonna?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

  “What’s your name?”

  Blinking at her, his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, no sound escaping.

  Bell rushed on. “Beast can’t be your name; you must have been called something else before. I mean, what kind of mother would name her child such a horrid thing? Not to mention you said your mother loved you very much. I just can’t picture it. Even if you did name such a glorious animal Fluffy Butt, I doubt the poor naming ability was a family trait. And I never asked! Oh, I feel so ashamed! How dense am I? And here I am, having called you such a horrid name all along – what?”

  Laughter doubled Beast over. Choking out past his spasms of mirth, he managed, “You’re fine. It never even crossed my mind.”

  Bell indignantly waited for him to collect himself, crossing her arms.

  Wiping a tear from his eye, he turned to her. “Somehow, you managed to both apologize and insult my naming abilities in one go. Quite impressive, really.”

  Bell rolled her eyes at him, a faint blush betraying her embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to insult him, but it was a uniquely awful name.

  “You’re right – Beast isn’t my name, it’s what the Fae call me because of my physical deformities. But it’s been so long, I don’t actually remember what my name was before I came here.” Thoughtful, he looked up at the clear blue sky. “Whatever it was, it’s gone now. So there’s no need for you to feel bad about not asking, Belladonna.” His rueful smile drooped at her deep frown. “What?”

  “That just won’t do!” she exclaimed, making Fluffy jump up. “I can’t call you that name anymore! We’ll just have to choose a new one for you! Well, I’ll choose a new one. I don’t trust you due to prior naming incidents…” she said, side-eyeing Fluffy, who was settling back into a ball at their feet.

  “Give me a name?” Beast sounded out the words as if they didn’t form a comprehensible sentence.

  “Yes. I guess you can have some input, but it can’t be something horrible.”

  Without hesitation, he blurted out, “Fine, but I want it to be a plant like in your family.”

  It was his turn to blush, his scars staying white while the rest of his face turned beet red – quite a dramatic effect in Bell’s opinion. Before she could fashion any response, Beast continued hastily. “I love your name and your sister’s names. I know you said your father chose them and they’re all after plants with these wonderful stories, and if I get to choose a name, I want it to be one that means something and I also want it to be separate from any part of my life before and I… I just… yea,” he trailed off, anxious for Bell’s reply.

  Using all her self-control, Bell suppressed the mirth she felt bubbling up in her chest. His blush and flustered speech made him seem like a small child caught in the middle of an embarrassing act. Blue eyes lighting up at the image, Bell grabbed his hand. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. And thank you for thinking Papa’s idea is so grand – he would be thrilled to know.” She rose and started back inside, leaving him with his mortification. Tossing over her shoulder, she said, “I’ll think of something and let you know when I have it.” She heard a pained groan behind her, and she smiled.

  By the end of the night, however, Bell no longer thought that Beast’s requirements for a new name were cute – she was several hours past annoyed with them. It seemed like every five minutes, he asked her if she had thought of one, and she couldn’t even think with his interruptions. She knew hundreds of plants, each with their own unique u
ses and stories, and finding one that fit such a unique man like Beast seemed impossible.

  “If you don’t stop, you’re never going to get a name,” she snapped at him, her face buried in the book she was trying to read.

  Ignoring the indistinct grumbling, she turned another page without thought, having long given up on reading the thing that night. The naming of an actual human being weighed on her, and she had no idea how Poppy had decided multiple times on what to name her children. What if she got it wrong?

  “I’ve got it!” Bell leaped up, screaming in excitement. Beast joined her, his pouting forgotten.

  “What is it?” he asked, clutching her hands, unable to hide his eagerness.

  “Well, since we’re in the library you need to sit down, and then I will tell you a story.”

  Perching on the edge of the chair he had just abandoned, he stared at Bell, expectant. “Go on.”

  Once upon a time, there lived a boy as sweet as honey and bright as the sun. Though young, he understood kindness better than most grown men. A collector of all things broken, he helped those that he could and sheltered those he could not.

  As good as the little boy was, he was just as frail. Sickly from birth, his mother would have kept him bedridden at all times if he had allowed it. No matter how she tried, he always found a way to sneak out. His favorite place to go was the infirmary in town. Children were not typically allowed in, but his touch had a way of calming even the most distressed patients.

  One day, he came home with a slight cough. The boy’s mother, always concerned, sent him to bed immediately. Checking on him later, she found him unresponsive, burning up with fever. For days she gave round-the-clock care to her ailing son, praying for him to return to her.

  On the 3rd day, she called for the town healer, who, upon arrival, knew that the boy would not last long. What he had caught could not be cured. As kindly as possible, he told the boy’s mother and left.

  The boy lingered on, unwilling to leave this world, and every day he had visitors. Hearing that the sweet child wouldn’t recover, one by one, those he had helped came to repay his kindness. No one could save him, but they could care for him for a moment, as he had cared for them. They all came, relieving a small burden on his mother’s heart.