After The Beast

Just a little something I've been working on lately. I got the idea probably last year. Took some notes, didn't work on it, of course, but it's been buzzing around my head the past couple months. So I took some more notes, and wrote a scene. I'm still not clear on the timeline, but...well here's what I've got. (Well, I have quite a bit more of this, but this is what I've written up and decided is a presentable enough draft for you few who read this blog.)

I clearly remember the night he finally chose to reveal his past to me, to tell me of his curse, of who he once was.


We were sitting by the library fireplace, he in his favorite wing-back chair, I on a cushion at his feet. In the beginning he would make me sit there, to look up at him as my master. Over time he ceased to order me to the cushion, but I continued to sit there out of habit, though I no longer felt like his pet.

“You know I was a prince,” he began when we were settled. “The rumors that still circulate in your town and this castle attest to that. My family name has long been lost to me though; I was stricken from the books by this curse, pushed away, forgotten. It seems I have become sort of a fairy tale, and not even my ancestors will come to see what is left of their property. No doubt there is some rotting, dusty tome that bears my name on record, but to those who know of my existence here—or believe it to be just a tale—I am known as The Beast. You grew up listening to the horror stories about me, did you not?”

I nodded.

“But once, long ago, longer than I really care to admit, I was a man with a name. I was a prince of the royal family. Yes, those who reside in the capital now are probably my great-great-grand nieces and nephews. Centuries ago, I was Prince Stefan, younger son, while my brother was heir to the throne.”

He turned towards the flames, a distant look in his eyes. He was quiet for a moment and it seemed he was trying to remember his story.

“This castle was built, and this land given to me, though I forget exactly when. Mostly it was to get me out of my father’s hair. He was training my brother to be king, and I was really only good for a political match. I was young, too young really, to be left on my own. But I was spoiled, and my mother made sure I got whatever I desired, so I was given this castle.” Absentmindedly he waved a paw towards the roof.

“I did as I pleased. As you know, your town is a quiet one, and it was such when I was young as well. I gave the people no cause to love me—I would not involve myself in town politics, nor would I visit, or hand out favors. What good was such a small place, devoid of culture and society?” He looked at me apologetically, as though I cared about the people who so easily abandoned me when my father gave me away to a monster. “I spent most of my time in the city, or throwing lavish parties here for all my young, arrogant friends. I was not taught to respect the people of this land. I was cruel to my servants and all who displeased me. I cared only about myself.

“Eventually the time came for me to be married. As brother to the would-be king, there were many lords willing to give me their daughter in exchange for the political benefits they would reap. My parents presented me with a group of suitable ladies, and told me I could have my pick.”