mon père

[beheld_beauty]

Belle probably wouldn't have gone into the forest looking for her father if it weren't for the fact that, were he home, she'd never be allowed.

She understands his concerns. Really she does. If it weren't for the fact that he's the local lawman, she wouldn't even be allowed out into town on her own. She's beautiful (as no one can shut up about for thirty seconds at a stretch; is it any wonder she prefers books?) and while he can protect her in their tiny town, the Witchwood is another matter. People get lost there - sometimes the Wood spits out men and women and children from other villages entirely, near theirs instead, and they have to be given maps and sent the long way around to get home - and anything could happen and he has no jurisdiction over crimes committed there.

But the woods are beautiful, and she's going to bring a blank book to draw a map in, and her father has been missing for four days and even if Belle's only concern were her safety she'd need to find him. Because orphaned seventeen-year-old girls tend to find it in their own best interest to get married, and if she wanted to get married, it would not be to anyone in the village.

He chased in a highwayman (whose crime was not committed in the forest, so all is in its proper order).

The highwayman came out.

Charlie did not.

Charlie, apparently, has gotten lost.

And Belle is going to go in and get him.

---

Her map is wrong.

No - no, she was very careful. She knows people get lost here; she knows the woods are twisty, suspects the landmarks must include duplicates. She brought bits of ribbon to mark her way. She's been changing colors as she gets deeper into the forest, and she's been traveling for almost a day now, and that ribbon right there was tied in the first hour. She's not that turned around; it's broad daylight and she's been tracking the sun. Not even magic, if magic existed, would be able to move the sun.

That leaves her, and the tree. She has been picked up and put back where she started or she has been followed by this tree. Or the ribbon, perhaps, if it's magically untied itself and made exactly the same knot around a different branch. ...No, there is the bit of blood from where she tripped and scraped her hand against the bark of that tree, and blood and ribbon both following her is more of a stretch than her having been transported or the tree having walked on its very roots to heel like a dog.

Damnation.

Well. Most people who wander into the Witchwood are eventually heard from again. But it's getting dark, and she trips more than enough in daylight; she underestimated the treachery of the ground deep in among the trees.

She goes on. She keeps making her map - it's still possible it will be useful for something, and she has precious little else to do while she walks alone through the dimming woods - keeping an eye out for a place to sleep.

She finds one.

Comments

[beheld_beauty]

Mmm, lunch.

Belle fills up and then she decides to go out and see if she can make any headway at discerning a pattern in the way the forest steers her.

[deslandes]

This time it lets her get much farther from the castle before steering her back... but 'much farther' is still only a few minutes' walk.

[beheld_beauty]

She writes down everything she notices.

It looks random to her.

Finally she lets herself be steered all the way back into the castle to mull over what she's noted down while not trying to take more data. She gets nowhere. She gives up and experiments with talking to the furniture.

[deslandes]

Requests for things that involve simple movement—'come here', 'go there', 'wiggle if you understand me'—are generally obliged. More abstract queries, or statements that don't involve asking for anything, are ignored.

[beheld_beauty]

She's still curious about her idea of the rug pile forming words. She writes some words of her own in the carpet: write back if you can understand me.

[deslandes]

The rug waits for a moment, then wriggles and flattens itself out, providing no words back to her.

[beheld_beauty]

Hmm. Disappointing.

She makes her way to the locked door. "Will you open up?" she asks, addressing the door politely.

[deslandes]

It rattles for a moment, then relaxes.

[beheld_beauty]

Huh.

If there's a person in the castle at all, it's past this door, and it's otherwise so obliging except about letting her get away from it for more than a few minutes at a time. "Excuse me!" she calls. "Can anyone who's not an object hear me?"

[deslandes]

There is a sound—like someone or something exhaling sharply.

It's not very objectlike, but neither is it very human.

[beheld_beauty]

Oh.

Oookay.

Maybe this is the menagerie part of the castle and it has not kept all of the cages in good repair and this door is locked for her safety.

All right then.

She backs away, and processes her thoughts in her notebook - in the dining room, so she can see if dinner presents itself differently when she's there and not in a random other location.

[deslandes]

It does!

Instead of setting itself up on the tray, her meal serves itself onto the table in fancy dishes. Apparently it's roast duck tonight. There is even wine.

[beheld_beauty]

Belle waters down her wine heavily - she partakes, drinking unwined water is hazardous where she's from and she doesn't know if this castle is different in that respect, but she doesn't like to overdo it.

She follows the dishes, when they clear themselves. She wants to see if she can figure out where the hell the duck came from.

[deslandes]

There is a kitchen, where the dishes clean themselves in water that pours out of thin air with the help of flying dishrags. Then the dishes put themselves away, the rags wring themselves out, and the washbasin scoots over to the kitchen door and empties itself onto the ground outside.

The adjoining pantry is very well stocked with non-perishable items, but contains no more ducks.

[beheld_beauty]

She checks the outside. Maybe there's poultry kept somewhere in the garden; she hasn't thoroughly inspected the garden yet.

[deslandes]

No poultry. Lots of roses. Some herbs, growing more or less wild.

[beheld_beauty]

She tells a rosebush to wiggle if it understands her. Just to be thorough.

[deslandes]

The rosebush either does not hear her, or chooses not to obey.

[beheld_beauty]

Ah well.

It seems to be just plants out here. And not even an actual vegetable plot. She'll lurk in the kitchen before lunch the next day and see where the produce and meat comes from. (She doesn't expect to be up in time for breakfast.)

She goes back inside, and says to the kitchen experimentally, "Tomorrow morning for breakfast I would love crepes with strawberry and blackberry preserves."

This does in fact sound delicious, but it's also very specific; the kitchen will most likely only give her this if it can understand fairly complex language.

[deslandes]

A few cabinet doors rattle, perhaps in an acknowledging way.

[beheld_beauty]

"Thank you."

And she goes upstairs and whiles away the time before bed, and goes to bed.

[deslandes]

The next morning: crepes, with strawberry and blackberry preserves.

[beheld_beauty]

Yum. Information.

Belle settles into a routine of sorts: experiment with requesting things of the castle, experiment with trying to go into the forest, three tasty meals a day. She takes up singing while doing those of these activities that don't involve chewing. She's not good at it, but it fills the silence.

She makes no progress into the forest, but she keeps trying. It will not help Charlie to fret, it will only help Charlie to get out and find him, so she expends energy on the latter and not the former.

[deslandes]

And then one morning before breakfast arrives, down by the locked door, something

roars.

[beheld_beauty]

Gleep!

The roaring wakes Belle up from her half-doze and leaves her sitting up shivering in bed.

Has the something-in-the-menagerie-or-whatever gotten out? What is it? Has the castle not been feeding it? (How long has it been devoid of inhabitants, she can't gather any clues when it keeps itself so well-ordered and free of dust, the garden suggests a long time, surely the castle must have been feeding the animal or animals if they're still alive?)

She runs through her notes about the layout. She has not found a way to get to the roof yet, but maybe she can come up with one. Roaring-thing won't be able to get her there. Probably. (Certainly she has no chance of outrunning it, even discounting how the forest turns her around. The roof is dicey - she may topple from it and die - but not guaranteed to fail.)