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Beauty could not stand an unhappy ending in the novels she perused. She adored tales of grandeur, with fairies blessing despondent folk and princes rescuing their damsels from the dangers that plagued their kingdom. She poured over these tomes until the wax in her candle melted into a golden puddle in its stand. Her father could no longer afford to bring novels home for her, but she treasured the ones she had, nonetheless.
Her sisters were not as appreciative as she was. While Beauty never complained, not even when they purposefully tracked mud on the freshly clean floors she had just mopped, or when they scattered crumbs from their meal all over the mahogany table. They woke up late and stayed out even later, trying desperately to hold the attention of the rare passing duke or earl they wished to marry. No ordinary man would satisfy them, so they continued pressing on, mocking Beauty for her lack of a husband while they themselves had none.
Her father one morrow received a missive of immense importance, news of an arriving vessel with precious cargo that could increase his fortune twofold. With this news, he bid his three sons and three daughters farewell, but before he departed, he asked each of them what they would like to have when he returned with his newfound riches. His sons only asked for coins to help with their families, as they were newly married and in need of assistance from wherever it would come. But his daughters, excluding Beauty, asked for the richest things, fine dresses and jewels that shined like the heavenly bodies. They were determined to find a husband of good stature in his wealth, and they were quite firm in their stance that it could not happen if they were dressed as poor country maidens.
And so, Beauty made her request known to him after all the others. She desired a single rose; a symbol of her mother who had been dead so long she could no longer remember her countenance. But she remembered that she smelled of roses, and Beauty would have liked to keep that smell around her, as a token of her dear departed mother.
Her father left for the harbor not long after, the thud of his horse’s hooves on the cool cobblestone a rhythmic beat until he faded out of sight. Beauty waved goodbye to him from her room in the top of the dwelling, praying that he would make a safe return.
But as the days passed by with no sign of her father, she began to worry. The skin of her lips grew raw with how much she passed it in between her teeth, a nervous habit she could not seem to break. Her sisters were unconcerned, only worried about the possibility of not receiving their gifts, and Beauty would have suspected them of foul play, had they not been with her in the dwelling the entire time his departure lasted. Her brothers wanted to go after him, but alas, they were so poor they could only afford the one horse their father had taken, and the journey was much too long to be taken on foot.
Finally, Beauty could take his absence no longer and set off on foot in the direction of where she thought her father travelled. Many days passed in that dreadful forest, thoughts of pain and torment growing with each step. The cool night air whipped around her, the wind a howling tempestuous force against her delicate frame. Wolves howled in the distant forest, waiting and watching for her to drop her guard so they could pounce and attack. All these thoughts worsened her anxiety, and she prayed for a dwelling to appear, one that she could take refuge in, if only until the sun rose.
Just then, she stumbled upon a dwelling of grand splendor, a beautiful palatial building grander than where she lived before her father lost his fortune. Wasting no time, she pried open the front door, stepping inside and quickly shutting the cold out. When she turned to face the entrance hall, a grand table was laid out, full of meals fit for nobility. Although she was famished, she decided to do the polite thing and wait for the master or mistress of the house to appear, if only to sup with them before presuming that role upon herself.
During the passage of time, she grew more and more ravenous until she could wait no longer, and at once, she practically dove into a seat and began to devour the food in front of her. It tasted so delicious to her starved stomach, her eyes closed in delighted ecstasy, and she cleaned her plate quickly. The flavors danced upon her palate, creating a symphony of beautiful flavors she never dreamed she could recreate. Once she had dined to her heart’s satisfaction, she felt rather sleepy, and presently decided to search for a mattress to rest her head for the night. She was still somewhat worried about the master or mistress of the house discovering her, but her need for sleep seemed to overpower her reasoning.
She wandered around the expansive halls until she found an open door. Peeking inside, she saw a massive bed with what appeared to be the softest goose down covers and fluffy pillows the size of her arm. Feeling exhausted, she fell into the soft covers, falling asleep before she could even remove the shawl, the woolen one she wore to protect herself against the cold.
She awoke with a start, feeling a pair of eyes watching her from afar. As her breathing began to quicken in pace, she finally noticed the tall figure looming in the corner. A scream bubbled up in her throat, but before it could escape, the sound was choked off before its exit. This was no ordinary master of the house then, as her mouth was closed by magic and the figure seemed to be approaching the bed at lightning speed, until he materialized in front of her.
A Fairy, she realized with startling certainty. Her mouth opened again like a fish gasping for water, but nothing would come out. Her words felt like honey in her throat, a lump impossible to move past, and she knew it was magic preventing her speech. He seemed to be silently enjoying her inability to apologize, but he did not mock her out loud.
“I have saved your life by not ending it the moment you stepped into my palace, and this is how you thank me. By eating my dinner and stealing my bed to sleep in.”
Her fear was steadily growing, and it spiked the moment he spoke. Whatever magical spell that had its hold on her was broken, and she was finally able to apologize for her multiple errors in judgement the previous night.
“I do apologize, my lord. I did not mean to intrude upon your palace; I was only looking for sanctuary on my journey to find my father.”
He hummed in a mixture of disdain and curiosity, and she could not decide which emotion she would prefer him to show to her. He appeared to have decided on the former, and a cruel mask of indifference covered his handsome face. For he was handsome, but in the way a cold winter’s breeze chilled you, unwelcoming yet taunting.
“Well, since it would be preferable to not kill you, as to not sully my reputation among my peers. However, there is no social chagrin for cursing a human.”
The scream rose in her throat again, and she thought to protest, but he was already murmuring an incantation under his breath, so silent she could barely make out the words. But she could feel no effect. He looked at her with the same cold mask, his gold-flecked eyes piercing into what seemed to be her very soul, like sunlight dappled across tree leaves.
The scream died in her throat yet again, as something seemed to close around the sound, cocooning it so it would not want to be heard. She realized she was still lying supine in the bed and tried her best to rise. But alas, her body betrayed her, and she fell back among the cushions. She looked to him for answers, and a slight smirk had curved his mouth upwards.
“I thought it would be fitting to turn you into what your sisters wanted you to be, so they’ll finally accept you like you wanted.”
She finally was able to rise from the bed, and with no questions answered, darted out of the room into the hallway, frantically searching for a door to escape. She spotted one a good way down the hall and began to run. But she had not made it far when her breath escaped her, and she had to lean against a pillar. What did he do to me to make me this weary? For Beauty did not know it, for there were no mirrors in the hall, but she had become what her sisters wanted: old and feeble, unable to be the beauty everyone knew her as.
Then she passed out.
When she came to her senses, she was lying in the bed from before, and she raised her hand to cover her eyes from the late sunlight filtering through the open window. But as she saw her hand, she gasped in horror, for it was wrinkled and veiny, not the hand of a country girl, but that of an old witch or hag from some forgotten fairy tale. Although, she thought to herself, it does feel like I’m living my own fairy tale now.
Her hand flopped uselessly to her side, and she could not think of what to do. She still had no earthly idea of where her father was, and she did not believe the Fairy would let her go in search of him anytime soon. Speaking of him, he was nowhere to be seen in her room, and she supposed that was a good thing.
After a bit of a struggle, she was able to push herself up from the bed, making her way to the door, the golden handle pushing the door outwards easily under the pressure she gave it. Making her way down the hall she had tried to run out earlier, she could not help but wonder about her sisters, what had become of them and what they would say if they could see her now. She could not say much about herself, as she was still in disbelief. But she could learn to live with it, only until she figured out a way to escape his grasp.
She made her way to the stairs, her stomach rumbling at the lack of food. While she still felt full from dinner last night, it felt like a lifetime ago, and her stomach was protesting. As she arrived downstairs into the kitchen, she picked up a teapot to brew herself a fresh cup. But as she went to set it on the fire, she noticed something pellicular about the flames. They seemed to be watching her intently, and as she looked closer, she noticed a pair of eyes staring.
She jumped back in a mix of fear and surprise, dropping the teapot on the hot coals. Her hand clutched at her chest, her heart fluttering in an erratic rhythm as she tried to calm herself down from the shock. A low chuckle from behind her snapped her out of her daze, and she whirled around, only to see the Fairy from before watching her. She pointed a finger accusingly at him, but no words would come out. He calmly walked over to the fire, removing the teapot from the hot coals and seemingly scolding the fire as he went.
“You can’t be scaring our guests like that, they’ll think you’re a demon of some kind,” he chided, but a gentle smile was on his visage. He was scolding them more in the way of an amused parent who couldn’t show it then genuinely scolding whatever had given the fire eyes, and as she looked closer, a mouth.
“What did you expect? You can’t hide us forever while she’s here,” the fire responded, seemingly offended at being questioned. If a fire could look indignant, he was showing it strongly. As it was, he looked more like a pouting child than the demon the Fairy had claimed he was. Her fear began to fade, replaced by a small sense of amusement. The Fairy set the teapot correctly on the fire, brewing the tea with the air of royalty. She watched curiously, wondering if the fire was cursed as she was, but she did not feel brave enough to ask. He seemed to notice her stare, and she thought he would provide an explanation. But the words that came out of his mouth were far from what she expected.
“You know, I don’t believe I asked for your name.” She would’ve scoffed if she had heard that from any other man, because asking for one’s name was common courtesy where she was from. But this was the man, or rather, fairy, who had just cursed her into an old hag. He wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of decorum, and she didn’t expect him to be after he cursed her.
“Beauty. And I suppose I should ask for yours in return.”
“Sylvan.”
She tilted her head, curious at his name. If she remembered correctly, his name literally translated to wooded or having to do with the woods. She supposed it was fitting, since his palace was in the forest. She didn’t realize the teapot had been heated and the herbal tea poured into two cups until he held one out to her.
She smiled bashfully, rubbing the back of her neck and muttering out a small thank you as she took the cup from his hand. She sipped the warm liquid, letting it soothe her throat as it went down. As she leaned against the counter, she couldn’t help but wonder what became of her father. For she had heard nothing of his fate, but she was slowly working up the courage to ask.
“If I may, I would like to visit my father. He’s been missing for days, and I just would like to know if he’s alive.”
He paused in drinking, and for a moment she thought he would reject her proposal. But a slight smile appeared on his lips, and she couldn’t tell where to be overjoyed that he would let her go, or terrified that the townspeople would see her like this. Well, she thought, that was a risk she would have to take to see her father again.
He had given her a horse to go into town on, and she promised she would come back after. But he just shook his head.
“Don’t worry if you can’t come back. I’ll know where you are.”
She didn’t know if that was meant to sound threatening or not, but she smiled to comfort him anyways. She took the reins in her hands, making sure they were secure before she turned the animal to leave. But before she could give the command, a hand landed on hers.
“Wait.”
He slid one of his many rings off his finger, holding it out for her to take. She tilted her head curiously, but she slipped it into her pocket. She didn’t feel like it was time to wear it, even if she couldn’t explain where that feeling had come from. He waited a minute to see if she could guess what it was for before he told her.
“If you ever want to come back, just put it on.”
She smiled again, nodding her thanks to him before she rode off. She rode all night, dodging fallen tree branches and cringing whenever she heard the faint sound of wolves howling in the distance. When she saw the silhouette of her home in the distance, she urged her horse faster, until she arrived at the stable attached to her home. She tied her horse up, her withered hands slow to make the knot tight enough.
Once it was right, she went up to the front door, gently knocking so as not to disturb her father too much. He was probably very sick from his adventure, if he had even made it back home. She wondered what her sisters would say. The door slowly creaked open, revealing one of her three sisters, as the other two were in the middle of fixing their hair at the table. The one at the door, Agnes, let out a gasp of shock.
“What do you want with our father’s fortune, you old hag? He’s already half dead from the loss of our dear sister.”
Beauty chuckled under her breath, for they never would have called her dear if they knew it was her. She removed the hood the Fairy had given her and spoke up.
“Actually, it is your dear sister. Although I suppose you can’t call me that anymore, considering this is my visage now.”
Agnes looked highly skeptical, but after a quick glance back at her sisters, who seemed to be delighted at having her back, reluctantly waved her inside. Beauty made her way over to the kitchen cupboard, craving a piece of her favorite honey bread before she saw her father. Her sisters were contriving a plan behind her, but she was too focused on her small meal to make out the words.
Her father practically fell over in excitement when he came down the stairs, wrapping her in a warm, familial embrace. He looked thinner than when she saw him, less portly than normal. But she was ecstatic to see him all the same. He was a bit unsettled by her new haggard appearance, but he didn’t let it stop him from enjoying her presence.
However, unbeknownst to her and her other siblings, her sisters had concocted a plan to rid her of their lives for the better. Rumors began circulating around the town of a witch, one who had kidnapped Beauty and returned to her home pretending to be her. Rumors like this in a small backwards town quickly became fact to the townsfolk, and one night, the riot came.
Broken glass flew inside onto the wooden floors. Beauty screamed in fear as they dragged her away to be burned at the stake at dawn. Her father protested behind the mob, but it was no use. Her sisters had spread the rumors well, and she would be all alone at the pyre as the flames surrounded her.
It wasn’t until she was being tied up that she remembered the ring still in her pocket. It had only been a few days since she left the palace, but she hadn’t felt the need to use it. But now, with flames licking at her boots, she wriggled around in her bonds until her fingers brushed against the golden band. She eagerly slipped it on her ring finger,
Instantly, she was transported to the living room of the palace, and she collapsed on the floor in front of the fireplace. She didn’t notice the hunting boots hovering above her head until her eyes opened. He looked down at her, his head tilting in what looked like morbid curiosity as he noticed the burns on her arms, but mostly on her legs. He crouched down beside her, and she flinched when he touched the raw skin there. But he didn’t flinch at her appearance, and there seemed to be a hint of concern in his gaze.
His hand rested lightly on the burned areas, magic seeming to flow from his hand into her wounds, a golden light slowly covering them and healing them. She gasped in surprise, but didn't want to break the moment of calm that had seemed to fall over them. He helped her to her feet, but she almost immediately doubled over, her elderly body not used to the sudden removal of pain. He tilted his head again, and for a moment she thought he would speak. But instead, he turned towards the door and left.
Many months later, they had grown much closer. She was still wary of his powers, and he didn’t completely trust her either. But he had opened up, and she had in return. One night, they were in the living room together, watching the flames flicker listlessly before she spoke up.
“Do you love me?”
He only paused for a moment before nodding.
“I suppose I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself.”
She smiled, nodding in return. Truth be told, she had learned how to love him, even with both of their flaws combined.
“I do as well.”
He smiled, bringing her into a warm embrace. And it was the first full smile she had seen on him. And as they embraced, she felt a change inside her. Her body began to shift back to her beautiful form, and she gasped in shock, gratefulness overwhelming her.
“I may have forgotten to mention the curse is removed through true love.”
She laughed, for the first time in many months, burying her head in his chest.
“You did.”