Stories Before a Wedding, or The Fairytale of Beauty and the Beast

Once, a long time ago, it was custom that on the night before wedding all the married women of equal Rank and status would gather around the bride in her chamber. While helping put the finishing touches on the bride's dress and trousseau, the women would take turns telling Tales of their great Romance and own marriages. This served two purposes: these stories taught the bride what she could expect from her own marriage and wedding night, and it also served as a history of these women and their stories. The most romantic Tale and the woman who told it would earn the right to give the new bride away into her married life. Now, in most cases, naturally the bride's mother or grandmother or some favorite cousin would quite easily be announced the winner and told how their story was such an inspiration to the new bride. In this way, weddings passed from mother to daughter, matriarch to descendant, and the women’s stories remained alive and aided a new bride in preparing for what was to come.

On this such night, the wedding of Ella - a gentlewoman - to the Duke of this land was to pass tomorrow. As per this custom, noblewomen throughout the land and even a few princesses gathered in Ella's humble chamber. Ella herself blushed and seemed to shrink into herself in the presence of her Noble guests, something that most of them, unhappy to see a common gentleman’s daughter risen to their ranks, smiled at. No doubt the girl’s stepmother, now banished from the room she had once forcibly claimed, laughed to see the girl so discomforted, and comforted herself with the thought that - as per the duchies tradition - the house and the room that Ella had been restored to would finally, and truly, be hers tomorrow as Ella could take no possessions save her clothing and a few mementos into her married life, for such is the way of the nobility. And so, Ella was left alone: no mother, no stepmother, no sister nor stepsister, to look to and to say: “your story inspires me, so you shall guide me happily into my marriage.”

While Ella blushed and faded into the background of her own celebration, one guest - a princess – patiently waited until it was time to tell her story. While her rank allowed her to go first, she deferred to the eldest present saying that she too wished to learn the stories as she was the newest married in the room and her land had no such traditions, nor did she - like Ella - have a mother to tell her stories before her own wedding. Finally, she went to speak and told a story that is both familiar and unique. This is her story:

The Story begins - as many magical stories do - with an ordinary day; the post had just been delivered as a family sat down to an early dinner. At the head of the table sat a man - a merchant, and, if the story is to be told honestly, a foolish and selfish man - who had three daughters. Two of these daughters took after their father, while the third - our storyteller - was kind, intelligent, and giving. She was also the most beautiful girl in this town or any other within a week's travel, which, if you asked her father, is why he named her Belle, which means Beauty; however, he did also name her eldest sister Charity and her middle sister Tolerance, both of which certainly did not live up to their namesakes, and besides, it is hard to know when one is a baby just exactly how one will grow. But Belle grew into her namesake, both inside and out.

On this morning, the merchant learned that one of his lost ships may have indeed been found at last, and that the family's fortunes may have been restored. Nearly giddy with excitement, the man read the letter aloud to his daughters no fewer than three times. The eldest two were faint with joy at the prospect of retaining their place in society; the youngest, on the other hand, was quiet for she knew that not all was guaranteed, but she did know better than to say it aloud. The merchant announced that the very next day he would travel to see the ship and bring back jewels and gowns for his daughters and gold for himself. So confident was he, that he encouraged his daughters to go around the town and make whatever purchases they had been putting off for lack of coin - something the elder two girls did willingly. Indeed, by the time the father returned from his trip, both girls had new dresses, hats, shoes, gloves, brooches, fans, buckles, and had even bought a popular novel or two, if just to prove their refinement and class in front of the new officers that had just arrived in town for training exercises. In short, the family was in debt.

All would have been well had the father discovered his missing ship, but, alas, this was not to be. Instead of the ship and all of its precious cargo, the merchant found ruin and, indeed, was even far more worse off than before with both the cost of his trip and his daughters' purchases. To make matters worse, the man had gotten lost during his travels and had stumbled upon the realm of a Beast. In an effort to save his own skin, the man offered to the creature to take one of his daughters instead of himself.

Upon returning home with this news, the elder two girls wept and gashed their teeth and tore at their bosom - not out of grief, mind you, but out of fear that they would lose all that they had bought and any chance of the officers' regard. The youngest, too, wept, but her tears with genuine and full of fear for what her father had done. She knew that one of them had to make a sacrifice, and, knowing her sisters, she knew that it would have to be her, so, by the by, she left the perfectly ordinary house and, with her father's blessing, went to go live in the Beast's home.

Now, unlike some versions of the story that you may have heard, the Beast was not cruel, nor did he yell at her or imprison her. In truth, the Beast treated her well - bowing to her, and announcing to her that, since she came of her own free will, not only was she free within his Palace, but that it was a gift to her and that she alone with Master here. In the months that followed, Belle found a peace she had not known before, spending her days reading in the library or strolling through the rose gardens; when both her feet and eyes were tired of wandering, she would go to the conservatory and play or just listen as the golden instruments played themselves for her amusement. There was a room dedicated to art as well, with watercolours, pastels, oils and canvases of all sizes that would frame themselves when complete. There were rooms full of all sorts of amusements, and, when Belle desired to be useful, she would go into the vast kitchen and cook and bake for herself and the Beast.

As for the Beast: he was a gentle giant, standing over two metres tall and possessing the tusks of a wild boar, the horns of a ram, and the mane, colouration, and snout of a lion. He – or, rather, She, a fact that Belle had yet to realise as they only met at night and her voice was the roar of a lion rather than human timbres – was clever and well-read, and Belle found herself voraciously devouring books so that she would be an able companion for the Beast. The Beast was also kind, and she even offered Belle to send jewels and gowns home with her thoughtless father – something that pleased both him and the unsuitably named Charity and Tolerance.

And so, the months passed peacefully, gently, and kindly for Belle and her Beast. The only sadness that Belle felt was for a brief moment each night when the Beast asked if Belle would do her the honour of marrying her and becoming her Consort. This hurt the kind-hearted girl, as the Beast had been nothing but courteous and generous to her since her arrival, but, every night, she answered the same: “Oh, kind Beast, while you are far more gentle and true than any man I’ve ever met, I cannot marry you, for you are a beast.” Thus, her answer gave hope to the cursed woman – for cursed, she was – that it was only her tusks, and horns, and mane and snout and colouration of a lion that caused Belle to reject her each night, for she knew the girl’s love and fidelity would, eventually, break her spell. Each night, after her proposal, she also entreated permission to join Belle the next night. Belle gladly granted this request, as she not only enjoyed the Beast’s company, but she felt a sincere and true desire to lighten the Beast’s burden and loneliness. Thusly, a full year passed.

The Beast, knowing that Belle had to remain with her freely and willingly for one year, one month, one week, and one day in order to break the spell, also knew that the girl had to prove that she remained at the Beast’s Castle of her own free will, and so she had to be given the choice to leave before the end of the time specified. Still, she was loath to let Belle leave as she too had grown to love Belle as much as it was obvious that the girl loved her. Lately, Belle had taken to resting her hand on the Beast’s paw before she could propose each night and say: “Oh Beast, if only you were not this Chimera, but a more familiar shape, for then I could grant your and my great wish.” So the Beast remained silent and dallied until all but the last day to send Belle away from the Castle as her final test; if she failed, the Beast would be parted from Belle forever, and she would have to wait in solitude for the next maiden with the potential to break the curse to be born.

To accomplish this, the Beast used her magic to create a mirror that would show Belle whatever she asked for and a magic ring that would return Belle to her side no matter where she may be in the world. These gifts prepared, the Beast called Belle to her side and asked if she missed her father and sisters. Startled to realise that she had forgotten all about her family, Belle felt a flush of shame and embarrassment, and she confessed that she was now worried about how they were surviving without her to cook, clean, and smooth her sisters’ thoughtlessness over with their village. Nodding – for even though she knew it was necessary to break the curse – the Beast offered Belle the ring and explained it’s magic to the girl. With a smile, Belle accepted the ring, and, with a kiss to the Beast’s lion’s snout, she vowed to return in one week and one day’s time as she did love the Beast.

The next morning, after packing a bottomless trunk full of gifts for her family at the Beast’s orders, Belle awoke to find herself in a strange house. Upon exploration – and after frightening a poor maid – Belle found her father at the breakfast table ordering a stern-faced butler. He gasped as he saw her, but his shock quickly turned to a calculating smile as he took in her gown and the large gold rose necklace the Beast had also gifted her the night before. Embarrassed by her father’s clear greed, Belle hid her hand wearing the Beast’s ring behind her skirts. Rising, the merchant grasped his daughter’s shoulders and drew her to the table and bade her sit by him and listen to the family’s news; Tolerance – the middle sister – was to be married to an officer. In fact, her to-be husband was the ranking officer to elder sister Charity’s husband, which bothered Charity to no end; this amused her husband, who reminded her of her namesake now many times a day. Uncomfortable with her father’s obvious intent, Belle quickly confessed to the gifts she had brought and asked for the truck to be brought down.

Awakened by the news that their sister had returned, or, rather, excited by the trunk she had returned with and jealous that one might choose a gift the other wanted and fearful that their father would claim the biggest cut, Charity and Tolerance rushed downstairs to greet Belle. As the trunk was unpacked, Tolerance claimed silks and jewels for her trousseau, Charity argued that – as the eldest and the one with a less auspicious match – it was she that deserved both the emerald set and the sapphire buckles and tags, and their father reasoned the gold and jewels should be his to supplement his business as it was his doing that Belle brought them the gifts. Indeed, when Belle went to claim a few small pieces to save for the maids and other servants her father had hired, she was rebuffed by all but Tolerance who – after confirming the smallness and meanness of these items – argued that Belle was no doubt owed some small debt for being forced to endure the beast for so long. Knowing they would not listen to her truth, Belle left the room and her family to fight over the trunk.

Already, she missed the Beast and the freedom and joy that the past year, one month, and one week had brought her, but she had promised herself to stay the appointed week so that she could return to the Beast with a full heart. In the meantime, she walked among the officers still stationed in the village and heard their jeers and felt their leers as she passed. She ignored them all completely, her mind on the gentleness and chivalry of the creature these men would call a monster. She walked a circle around the village – sometimes stopping here or there to visit with a merchant who had been friendly to her before or to check on a farmer’s field or litter of cats or the now-toddler aged child the village’s poor barmaid bore – until her new brother-by-law came and escorted her home. The whole time they walked, he spoke to her as if she were the toddler and he lectured proper decorum to her. However, despite his worries, Belle not only did not embarrass the family at dinner in front of Tolerance’s Colonel, but she unfortunately performed so well, that he realised his intended’s foolishness and turned his full attentions to her sister - perhaps he thought to gain the clever, beautiful, and clearly wealthy sister in trade for the dour and temperamental middle sister. Belle’s horror was so great that she faked a powerful migraine and left for bed before the fruit was cleared from the table.

In fear, Belle nearly left that night, but she still had one gift to give: a single, perfect rose to adorn her sister’s wedding dress, for that was the tradition of her land. She had taken the rose on a whim, not even knowing if it would be used, but now, she was sad she had as it forced her to remain until the night of Tolerance’s wedding. The next morning, armed with the determination only a soul-deep pain can bring, Belle approached her sisters as they sat arguing over whose life was worse and suggested that – as she was forced to return to the Beast in three days’ time – perhaps the wedding could be moved up? Tolerance, having seen how her husband-to-be’s eyes never left Belle’s form, could not agree fast enough, and, surprising them all, Charity also agreed. Their father had no objection as he had already been forced to gather the dowry, and, as the thought of giving anything of value away wounded him greatly, he would rather it be done now rather than later. The only objection came from the groom, who secretly desired to woo Belle herself, but he was quickly forced to agree when Belle, rather than flattered, threatened to scream when he accosted her on the stairs and made her his offer.

On her fourth night – the night before the wedding – Belle gathered in the main room of the house with Tolerance and some other officers’ wives. In her truest fashion, Tolerance had even tried to exclude Charity and force her to sleep with their father at the Inn because her husband was below her’s in rank, but Charity’s bond of blood combined with the Colonel choosing to have her husband attend him that night sealed her appearance at the celebration. This, the bride tolerated in such good humour as to sigh and glance at her sister dismissively every few minutes. Belle presented the rose which was clearly superior to any other flower provided and, when it was remarked that red was out-of-fashion for a bride, the rose itself – endeavoring to please – became a milky white. While the other wives babbled about how blessed Tolerance’s marriage was sure to be, the bride herself and Charity grew pale with rage that the youngest was so outshining them.

Rather than just celebrating the wedding and allowing her to leave them forever into the Beast’s Castle, they grew angry and decided to trick Belle into missing her deadline to leave and ruin her joy as their lives were so unhappy to them. To that end, after the wedding dinner, Charity, the eldest betrayer, placed an onion in her handkerchief – a mean one, not the silk ones that Belle had brought her – and cried to her sister about their father’s failing health. Concerned, Belle agreed to remain another day. Still not satisfied, the next day, Tolerance borrowed her sister’s handkerchief (for she had argued it was already ruined, so why should she ruin one of hers; in the end, she paid her sister a gold coin for the honour) and did the same evil trick. Belle, again, agreed to stay.

The sixth day never seemed to dawn but was, instead, overcast and thunderous. Charity and Tolerance chose to attend breakfast where Belle sat with their father to see her ruin first-hand. They smiled gleefully to think of how pale and hurt she would get upon realising that she was cut off from her precious beast and the joy she had felt in his Castle. They giggled as they filled their plates, each vying for the best, thickest piece of bacon and more strawberries than the other. Belle herself had risen early, helped the overworked maids with the breakfast and the curtains, prepared her father’s slippers and newspaper, laid the table, aided the butler – for he was old – in laying the food and even had fixed her father his plate and coffee as she heard his tread on the stair before making her own and sitting at last. Eating slowly despite her hunger, Belle waited to hear what her sisters clearly wanted to say.

Finally, they could not take their sport any longer and begged their sister to remember her promise to the Beast and that she had broken it. Would the ring she had refused to give Tolerance for her own wedding band work now? Oh, how cruel they were. Even Charity’s husband and their own father blushed at their jeers; Tolerance’s own husband leered at Belle while silencing his wife when he offered her a place in their home. Tolerance grew pale to see his hand on Belle’s arm and the lust hidden under his mask of sympathy.

To their surprise – and Tolerance’s surprised relief of her fear of losing her new husband so soon – Belle just stood, shaking off the Colonel’s hand, and she faced them all with composure. Did they truly think she was a fool? Did they truly think she was blind enough to their dispositions not to be suspicious when they approached her with old, plain handkerchiefs? Did they truly think she – who had taken care of them both for years – did not know their twisted games and cruel natures? No, she knew, and, to test them, she had said she was forced to return in four days’ time, when, in fact, she had eight. At that statement, she wished them all the joys their natures would allow and twisted the ring still on her finger. Seeming to know the urgency, the magic worked immediately, and Belle disappeared.

Returned at once to her Beast’s Castle, Belle went to her rooms, washed her the air of her family’s house off her skin, changed into a gown she knew the Beast favoured, and waited for their time together to begin. If the Beast was shocked by her calmness during dinner, she gave no sign. As they ate, they discussed the history of the lost Royal Family and whether Merkin or Shore was the better composer. Finally, in the library that night by the light of the fire, Belle told the Beast all of what happened. The Beast was saddened that Belle should have been proven so right about her sisters and, to a lesser extent since she had no illusions about his character, her father, but she only said that she was happy Belle returned so quickly and that she had missed her. Finally, the Beast rose and moved to leave the library and end their nighttime together.

Belle furrowed her brow; was the Beast not to ask the now expected and comforting questions? As the Beast had already bowed and was nearing the door, Belle rose and called out: “I do understand, finally. They are my blood but have proven not to be my family. You have loved me and asked for nothing in return. The man that stared and leered – he saw my face, my body, where you see me. You have loved me and not my appearance. You are no beast, and they are no men but, instead are the real monsters. You have not asked your question, but I will still answer it: I will marry you, and I will be your consort - boar’s tusks, ram’s horns, and lion’s mane, colouration, and, especially, snout.” As she said this, Belle had moved ever-closer to the frozen Beast, and, finally, as she said the last word of her declaration, she leaned up and – since the Beast naturally leaned down to look the girl in the eye whenever they spoke – pressed the lightest of kisses directly on her nose.

Perhaps, listener, you expected fireworks, the Princess asked the gathered wives and bride, which startled them from the trance they all seemed to have fallen into throughout the story. No, there was no swelling of an invisible orchestra, no grand, magical moment where the fur and horns and tusks became hair and skin. This is not that kind of fairytale – not that that kind does not have its place. The Beast bowed low over Belle’s hand, kissed it, and wished her a good night. Tomorrow – she said – they would meet for dinner to finalise the details and then, since Belle was, effectively, disinherited – willingly so – from her family, they would plan their wedding. With this rather matter-of-fact plan in place, the Beast offered to escort Belle to her rooms, an offer the girl willingly accepted.

The next day – the four-hundredth and third day – dawned bright and clear. Belle spent most of it in the kitchen, making a betrothal feast, albeit a simple one which she knew would suit them both fine. Before dinner, she also slipped into the garden to find a suitable flower; she blushed at how forward she was being, but she could not bring herself to care beyond the blush. When all was prepared, she returned to her rooms to dress and prepare herself for whatever this night would bring.

As per their usual custom, Belle arrived at the table first and seated herself at the right hand of the head for both she and the Beast eschewed the most formal of conventions in favour of closeness. That thought alone made Belle blush yet again; they truly did act as though they were already married, which should have been a clue to how deeply she had loved the Beast for nearly all the time she had lived there. She sat and drank in the smells of the bread and soup she had made, the heat and sounds of the fire and it’s glow as well as that of the candelabras, the dark wine and it’s woodsy and sweet flavour, the feel of the heavy silk across her legs, but what she did not sense was her Beast – his smell, the sound of his heavy paws padding down the stair, the sound his horns made when they inevitably scraped the doorframe because he never remembered to duck down quite low enough. Anxious, Belle took a deep breath and closed her eyes and focused on calmness, shutting out the fire, and candles, and food, and the rustling of fabric.

With her eyes closed, she missed the sound of footsteps on the marble stair, for the fabric rustling was that of the Beast – or, rather, the Prince’s coat – not her dress. It was not until she finally smelled the Beast’s scent that she opened her eyes again only to be staring directly into those of a stranger. Belle gasped and went to move when the Stranger placed her hand over Belle’s. The gesture was so familiar, and, combined with the scent and the kind, warm eyes, Belle knew at once who the person sitting in the Beast’s chair was.

The Prince – for that was her true title (and yes, Belle still thought the Beast, and, by extension the Stranger, male – in defense of her, the Prince wore a man’s style suit, had a deep and rich voice, and no bosom nor curves to speak of, and very defined muscles from training with weapons – the Prince was a prince through and through, albeit a female prince) told Belle that she was trained in magic, and would routinely come to this out-of-the-way castle to practice magic when not needed at court. The Prince had been trying to discover a way to harness the strengths animals to turn the tide in a war against a horrible tyrant. That shocked Belle as she remembered learning about that war, but it had been decided by a strange and powerful knight over two hundred years before. The Prince had laughed and confessed to being that Knight, that her father had used her to win the war and then banished her to the Castle to find a way to end the spell. A kindly fairy, grateful that the Prince had always tried to protect her kind, had “cursed” the Beast so that should a maiden remain freely and faithfully living with a monster for one year, one month, one week and one day, the mistake would be undone. Furthermore, she granted the Beast would live until such a time came that the spell would be undone and cursed the throne that once the Prince’s family died out, the throne would stand forever in the centre of the capital city of the Kingdom, waiting for the Prince to reclaim it and her rightful place that none could deny.

After dinner, Belle and the Prince retired to the library for – as the Prince well knew – there was no need for a chaperone, and, for her part, Belle was already wearing the rose she had asked the garden for that afternoon, so she considered them all but married anyway. Finally, she asked the Prince why – as the Beast – he had proposed marriage each night. The Prince answered that she knew immediately that Belle would be the one to break the spell because of her kindness and intelligence; the fact that she saw through the beast and saw the Prince showed her worth, so she was simply trying to take a more intimate path. Of course, Belle’s response was “but even on the first night?” to which the Prince had to admit she may have been playing a bit of a game during the first week, which caused them both to laugh at the natural absurdity of their situation. In her corset, Belle found herself suddenly a touch faint from the extended laughter and the stresses of the night. As such, she found herself leaning heavily against her betrothed’s chest and learned the final thing left unsaid by both Beast and Prince. Belle simply smiled and allowed her Prince to draw her closer and asked for their wedding to be arranged the next day.

With the blessing of the fairy who had felt the spell break and had come to check on the Prince, Belle’s wish was realised, and they were married the moment after midnight in front of the Fairy Court. After their seclusion – of which other wives have spoken of tonight, Belle said, so I will not; especially since you marry a male prince and not as I have – they returned to the Prince’s kingdom’s Capital where she claimed her throne. In a sense, the story ends here; they are still writing their happy ending – Belle guiding her Prince, the people remembering the lost Royals, and the Prince gaining the trust of her people back – but, it will be a happy one because it is built on love, respect, and devotion with – perhaps – a bit of magic thrown in.

At this, the Princess ended her tale, and the room remained silent. At a not-so-subtle prod from the Duke’s old nursemaid at the wonder-struck Ella, the bride declared the Princess’s story the winner. None could fault the bride’s choice, and, as the night grew late, most left to prepare their own households for the wedding the next day, but the Princess remained, for she knew what it was like to find a marriage in a Fairytale. As the dawn approached, a girl left her Evil Stepmother’s home for the last time, and she entered into what happens after “and they lived Happy Ever After.”