Prologue: Part One
The original prompt was: Belle/Milo/Jane, poly relationship. Sex not necessary, but fluffy cuteness as they live together in nerdish booky glory. Bonus points (are not necessary), but if they manage to get their canon significant others ("Adam", Kida and Tarzan), and form a three couple poly relationship where they all live in a big house together.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. “Beauty and the Beast” was originally a fairy tale by Jeanne-Marie Le Prince de Beaumont. But, I'm afraid to say, the version in my brain is thoroughly Disney. (More disclaimers in coming chapters! Why, the things to look forward to.)
A/N 1: With permission from the prompter I gender-flipped “Adam.” So, this story will eventually feature a poly relationship, but it will start with F/F. I'm telling you all now to avoid any sort of problems.
A/N2: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading. Part One
It was never surprising knowledge to her – but then, she had realized her own preferences quite early.
She also realized quite early the need to keep it deep inside; these thoughts, these urges, these feelings – they were not the sort of thing to be spoken of. She knew this without having to ask, knew it just by observing, by seeing that it was not something that everyone else did, was different
And it was not even that she thought her Father would not accept her – Belle knew, being an inventor, her Father was an oddity completely of himself and the he loved her dearly, would love her no matter what. But why would she even bring this into the open – into the light of day and the taunts of the towns people who already ridiculed them, when there was no chance for happiness down this path anyway? No, it was better to not tell, to let everyone thing she was a normal girl.
When she was younger Belle had actually thought it would be easy
to keep this facet of herself secret – had even foolishly thought that this hidden bit of her was a gift in some way, made her special. And it was only as she grew that the difference started to chafe under the facade she was forced to keep, that the lie of it would press against the inside of her chest – wanting to burst out.
Because she was different, she was
. And not only because she much rather get lost in a book then play with dolls or gossip – she would never be like those other girls for a very
different reason. (Had to bite her lip when they spoke of young men and marriage because it was something she knew she would never be a part of
And Belle became rather resigned to the fact; the day-to-day of brushing off Gaston's pressing advances and, on rare occasion, allowing herself the luxury of secretly letting her eyes trail along the form of one of the women who might enter the book shop.
But time made everything fester; it felt like wearing clothes that no longer fit, only this was no mere garments but herself
– and she could not simply take off the skin that she woke up wearing every day and exchange it for something that didn't constrict every movement she made, every choice
. That didn't make her close her eyes and tamp down the urge to scream when she opened them again and it was morning where she must play out the very same day, yet again. With only her books to offer respite, a place in which she could escape.
And when something different does
happen, when Phillipe returns without her Father, when their dear horse faithfully takes her to him – and it is to a dreary castle that they ride...well, she feels absolutely terrible for wishing for anything but the life she previously had.
Because this day is certainly not
the same as the others. Is different, an adventure – like she has dreamed of; but not all adventures were good. And this dream felt very much like the beginning of a nightmare.
In fact, this whole scenario is dream-like, her father imprisoned by that creature – that Beast. It is almost the most natural thing in the world for Belle to make the offer, give herself as trade for her Father's life.
The Beast watches her sharply, looking down upon her; such a distracting cacophony of fur, claws, teeth, and horn that she doesn't quite know where to safely gaze without causing offense. But it is in the moment that their eyes lock – such human eyes
- that it moves from being a terrible dream to a terrible reality, that it all slams into her with such force that Belle has to bite the inside of her cheek so as not to stumble backwards, clutch her hands together so they do not shake.But
...she also does not look away, does not break eye contact.
And when the creature agrees, Belle knows for certain that nothing in her life will ever be the same again.