inverted reflection [Beauty and the Beast Reversal AU prologue/?]
Title: inverted reflection [prologue/?]
Fandom: Beauty and the Beast
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a Princess who angered an Enchantress. (Selective Reversal AU of the Animated Disney Film)
Prologue
Once upon a time, there was a Princess who loved to read. Always she wandered around the castle with a book in her arms, going to the library more often than her own room.
After her father died in his latest experiment gone awry, and her mother dead soon after of a broken heart (the polite way of putting it), the Princess spent more and more time in the library.
She grew imbalanced with her passion--books became the only thing to move her.
One night during a bitter storm, the Princess was too engrossed in a tome to hear the entreaties of an old woman begging for shelter outside.
Finally she angrily slammed her book shut, unable to block out the noise. In her world, all she wanted was silence, nothing but the crinkle of a turned page, the flip of a leather cover.
The Princess wrenched the door open and demanded that silence she craved. The old woman, bent over with a basket full of different flowers, withdrew one rose from it, and offered the solitary bloom to her, as payment for shelter from the storm.
With narrowed eyes and arched brow, the Princess asked if she were a witch. She told the old woman she looked like one from her book.
Bowing her head and grinning a one-tooth smile, the old woman answered 'yes.'
Interested, the Princess let the old woman in, demanding she teach her magic.
And so the old woman stayed at the castle for a time, educating the Princess in the ways of enchantment, always watching her young, eager pupil. Observing her dispassionately try little, minor and harmless spells in front of her servants--and even on them, too. Noted how they ultimately did not quell her experimentation, or even truly voiced their concerns about their mistress' decision to practice such arcane and supernatural arts.
The old witch promised her that the rose she had offered, actually enchanted, would be hers once she was ready.
So too would the mirror go to her--similarly bewitched to show the holder almost anything their heart desired. They used it in her lessons, to see far off places and observe other magicks at work. Sometimes the old woman even indulged the Princess, letting her use the mirror outside of lessons to look at more of the world, watch animals even more extraordinary than the ones she kept in her menagerie.
The old witch summoned all sorts of new books for the Princess to study and devour. But the largest and oldest book brought to the castle was for the witch's own use while staying on as teacher there. The Princess was never to touch that.
Finally, the old witch was satisfied enough with the Princess' progress, and gave her the rose and the mirror as promised, telling her they would be her conduits, talismans to focus her power through.
"I leave tomorrow night. There's little else I can teach you at this point. Continue your studies, exercising the utmost caution."
With a practiced look of grace, the Princess accepted the gifts, while her mind calculated.
That night, the Princess crept into the rooms given up to the witch while she stayed to educate her. Her hands drifting along the shelves and scanning the spines, the Princess finally found the magic tome she'd never read, what her teacher had always forbid to her.
The book was so large, it could only be read laid on its back. The Princess sat before it, flipping the pages.
She paused on a chapter about weather manipulation that caught her eye, reminding her of the stormy night the old witch had first arrived on.
The Princess tried the spell, chanting the words.
She drifted to the window in wonder, as the skies turned dark, and the clouds began to grow, the snow shift into something hard and cold and pounding, the winds shrieking louder and louder…she'd done that....
The Princess tore herself away from the window, eager to try another spell from the grand tome.
She found a paragraph on shape shifting, and immediately tried it out. To be someone else, a completely different creature, sounded so intriguing, even better than her menagerie, even the enchanted mirror.
But alas, nothing worked--wolf, mandrill, buffalo, all manner of beast--but no matter how much she focused and chanted the words and drew the necessary runes onto parchment, she changed into neither creature. Even when the Princess retrieved her new rose and mirror as a conduit and boost to her power, even had the mirror show fantastic images of the animals she wanted to be, nothing happened.
When the storm she made shrieked louder, she abandoned the book, returning to the window and watching her work with a more excited pride, not the relaxed arrogance she bore as high ranking nobility.
So engrossed in the storm she wrought, hearing it wail and scratch at her castle, the Princess did not notice the sudden shadow looming over her until the old witch spoke, "You don't realize what you've done, do you?"
The Princess turned her head around--her dispassionate rebellion soon evaporated in the face of the old witch glowing and melting, transforming into a tall, straight-backed beauty with golden hair and piercing blue eyes.
Even the Princess was overcome with reverence--she immediately bowed before someone of such might and knowledge.
"The storm can be dealt with--the other, however, will prove trickier, if at all possible," said the Enchantress in a low, cryptic voice. When the Princess managed to look up at her, she thought there was something dark and guarded in her eyes. She felt a jolt when the Enchantress' beautiful ruby red mouth tilted ever so slightly, as if torn between a deepening frown or a slight smirk--the only hint she gave that she recognized what the Princess had just observed.
Either way, she continued solemnly, "I forbade you from my own personal book. Everything else was open to you--the rest of my vast library; my most precious knowledge shared with you; even before my arrival, your own books, your servants and this very castle--but none of it was enough for you."
The Enchantress toyed with her wand, pale spindly wood in her grasp.
"Not even this enchanted mirror and rose, which you have abused just as much as my book--just as much as everything else."
Then the Enchantress said the words to immobilize and silence her, and the Princess had no time to mount a defense, had no power to even set one up that would be match for someone like her.
"From this day forward, you are cursed--as well as this castle, your servants." And so the Enchantress tapped the wand on the Princess' forehead.
She screamed and flailed, released from the immobilizing and silencing charm--but everything had gone far too dark and far too fast, and it was then the Princess finally realized the depth of the Enchantress' rage.
"The books you grew lost in are now closed to you."
When the Princess banged into the desk, she finally dropped to the floor, sobbing and begging for mercy, the horrible possibilities consuming her once bright imagination.
"The servants, whom you valued less than your library, are now what you once saw them with your own eyes as--nothing more than objects."
The Princess reached blindly for the Enchantress, following the sound of her voice, but it seemed to come from everywhere now.
"However, it isn't irreversible." With a flick of her hand, the Enchantress had the mirror and the rose fly off the ground and onto the desk before the Princess could step on them in her mad scrambling. "I'll leave instructions to lift the curse with your servants--they'll read it to you."
The Enchantress gently fitted the rose and the mirror in the Princess' trembling hands, advised her to keep both safe--they were still, to an extent, her conduits after all. Then the Enchantress simply vanished.
Her servants, dazed and living objects now, read their blinded Princess the message left behind.
But all soon despaired, for the 'instructions' were a riddle they could not decipher. Terrified and enraged, the Princess accused them of lying to her, taking advantage of her, mocking--
They all soon quavered and retreated when the rose she held in her hand grew and stretched across the floors, vines threatening to pierce them with their thorns.
Instead the Princess made the rose lock the library shut, and left the bloom in there, along with the now useless mirror.
Eventually, she had the rose's vines grow, twining around her wretched castle and shutting it all away from the rest of the world. Still, she ventured out--even though she could no longer see it, the Princess remembered her own looks, knew how superficial people were. There was business she still had to attend to in the outside world, things that could still be of use. Her pleasant dreams of travel to see the world, however, were gone.
Of course, her servants stayed behind. Their looks would not draw the right attention. But finally after one of the teacup children whined, she gave them the mirror to watch the world with.
The older servants, the most loyal, had offered to read to her, if she only opened the library up. The Princess steadfastly refused them--it was not what she wanted. It would not be the same. Already, she could no longer truly imagine the pictures in her head.
But as the years passed, the Princess grew more cold and unfeeling. Though her magic was limited by her blindness (and the self-doubt that grew from it, though she refused to ever show it), she still practiced as best she could--whatever the Enchantress said, she still wanted more. Would have more. Power. Power was all she could strive toward now.
The one, taunting hope was the Enchantress' riddle, rather morbid in itself. For all her knowledge and desire for it, the Princess could not comprehend its disjointed lyric.
The Princess despaired. Wished the Enchantress could have just cut her eyes out, instead of leaving them whole, but so clearly broken.
Fandom: Beauty and the Beast
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a Princess who angered an Enchantress. (Selective Reversal AU of the Animated Disney Film)
Prologue
Once upon a time, there was a Princess who loved to read. Always she wandered around the castle with a book in her arms, going to the library more often than her own room.
After her father died in his latest experiment gone awry, and her mother dead soon after of a broken heart (the polite way of putting it), the Princess spent more and more time in the library.
She grew imbalanced with her passion--books became the only thing to move her.
One night during a bitter storm, the Princess was too engrossed in a tome to hear the entreaties of an old woman begging for shelter outside.
Finally she angrily slammed her book shut, unable to block out the noise. In her world, all she wanted was silence, nothing but the crinkle of a turned page, the flip of a leather cover.
The Princess wrenched the door open and demanded that silence she craved. The old woman, bent over with a basket full of different flowers, withdrew one rose from it, and offered the solitary bloom to her, as payment for shelter from the storm.
With narrowed eyes and arched brow, the Princess asked if she were a witch. She told the old woman she looked like one from her book.
Bowing her head and grinning a one-tooth smile, the old woman answered 'yes.'
Interested, the Princess let the old woman in, demanding she teach her magic.
And so the old woman stayed at the castle for a time, educating the Princess in the ways of enchantment, always watching her young, eager pupil. Observing her dispassionately try little, minor and harmless spells in front of her servants--and even on them, too. Noted how they ultimately did not quell her experimentation, or even truly voiced their concerns about their mistress' decision to practice such arcane and supernatural arts.
The old witch promised her that the rose she had offered, actually enchanted, would be hers once she was ready.
So too would the mirror go to her--similarly bewitched to show the holder almost anything their heart desired. They used it in her lessons, to see far off places and observe other magicks at work. Sometimes the old woman even indulged the Princess, letting her use the mirror outside of lessons to look at more of the world, watch animals even more extraordinary than the ones she kept in her menagerie.
The old witch summoned all sorts of new books for the Princess to study and devour. But the largest and oldest book brought to the castle was for the witch's own use while staying on as teacher there. The Princess was never to touch that.
Finally, the old witch was satisfied enough with the Princess' progress, and gave her the rose and the mirror as promised, telling her they would be her conduits, talismans to focus her power through.
"I leave tomorrow night. There's little else I can teach you at this point. Continue your studies, exercising the utmost caution."
With a practiced look of grace, the Princess accepted the gifts, while her mind calculated.
That night, the Princess crept into the rooms given up to the witch while she stayed to educate her. Her hands drifting along the shelves and scanning the spines, the Princess finally found the magic tome she'd never read, what her teacher had always forbid to her.
The book was so large, it could only be read laid on its back. The Princess sat before it, flipping the pages.
She paused on a chapter about weather manipulation that caught her eye, reminding her of the stormy night the old witch had first arrived on.
The Princess tried the spell, chanting the words.
She drifted to the window in wonder, as the skies turned dark, and the clouds began to grow, the snow shift into something hard and cold and pounding, the winds shrieking louder and louder…she'd done that....
The Princess tore herself away from the window, eager to try another spell from the grand tome.
She found a paragraph on shape shifting, and immediately tried it out. To be someone else, a completely different creature, sounded so intriguing, even better than her menagerie, even the enchanted mirror.
But alas, nothing worked--wolf, mandrill, buffalo, all manner of beast--but no matter how much she focused and chanted the words and drew the necessary runes onto parchment, she changed into neither creature. Even when the Princess retrieved her new rose and mirror as a conduit and boost to her power, even had the mirror show fantastic images of the animals she wanted to be, nothing happened.
When the storm she made shrieked louder, she abandoned the book, returning to the window and watching her work with a more excited pride, not the relaxed arrogance she bore as high ranking nobility.
So engrossed in the storm she wrought, hearing it wail and scratch at her castle, the Princess did not notice the sudden shadow looming over her until the old witch spoke, "You don't realize what you've done, do you?"
The Princess turned her head around--her dispassionate rebellion soon evaporated in the face of the old witch glowing and melting, transforming into a tall, straight-backed beauty with golden hair and piercing blue eyes.
Even the Princess was overcome with reverence--she immediately bowed before someone of such might and knowledge.
"The storm can be dealt with--the other, however, will prove trickier, if at all possible," said the Enchantress in a low, cryptic voice. When the Princess managed to look up at her, she thought there was something dark and guarded in her eyes. She felt a jolt when the Enchantress' beautiful ruby red mouth tilted ever so slightly, as if torn between a deepening frown or a slight smirk--the only hint she gave that she recognized what the Princess had just observed.
Either way, she continued solemnly, "I forbade you from my own personal book. Everything else was open to you--the rest of my vast library; my most precious knowledge shared with you; even before my arrival, your own books, your servants and this very castle--but none of it was enough for you."
The Enchantress toyed with her wand, pale spindly wood in her grasp.
"Not even this enchanted mirror and rose, which you have abused just as much as my book--just as much as everything else."
Then the Enchantress said the words to immobilize and silence her, and the Princess had no time to mount a defense, had no power to even set one up that would be match for someone like her.
"From this day forward, you are cursed--as well as this castle, your servants." And so the Enchantress tapped the wand on the Princess' forehead.
She screamed and flailed, released from the immobilizing and silencing charm--but everything had gone far too dark and far too fast, and it was then the Princess finally realized the depth of the Enchantress' rage.
"The books you grew lost in are now closed to you."
When the Princess banged into the desk, she finally dropped to the floor, sobbing and begging for mercy, the horrible possibilities consuming her once bright imagination.
"The servants, whom you valued less than your library, are now what you once saw them with your own eyes as--nothing more than objects."
The Princess reached blindly for the Enchantress, following the sound of her voice, but it seemed to come from everywhere now.
"However, it isn't irreversible." With a flick of her hand, the Enchantress had the mirror and the rose fly off the ground and onto the desk before the Princess could step on them in her mad scrambling. "I'll leave instructions to lift the curse with your servants--they'll read it to you."
The Enchantress gently fitted the rose and the mirror in the Princess' trembling hands, advised her to keep both safe--they were still, to an extent, her conduits after all. Then the Enchantress simply vanished.
Her servants, dazed and living objects now, read their blinded Princess the message left behind.
But all soon despaired, for the 'instructions' were a riddle they could not decipher. Terrified and enraged, the Princess accused them of lying to her, taking advantage of her, mocking--
They all soon quavered and retreated when the rose she held in her hand grew and stretched across the floors, vines threatening to pierce them with their thorns.
Instead the Princess made the rose lock the library shut, and left the bloom in there, along with the now useless mirror.
Eventually, she had the rose's vines grow, twining around her wretched castle and shutting it all away from the rest of the world. Still, she ventured out--even though she could no longer see it, the Princess remembered her own looks, knew how superficial people were. There was business she still had to attend to in the outside world, things that could still be of use. Her pleasant dreams of travel to see the world, however, were gone.
Of course, her servants stayed behind. Their looks would not draw the right attention. But finally after one of the teacup children whined, she gave them the mirror to watch the world with.
The older servants, the most loyal, had offered to read to her, if she only opened the library up. The Princess steadfastly refused them--it was not what she wanted. It would not be the same. Already, she could no longer truly imagine the pictures in her head.
But as the years passed, the Princess grew more cold and unfeeling. Though her magic was limited by her blindness (and the self-doubt that grew from it, though she refused to ever show it), she still practiced as best she could--whatever the Enchantress said, she still wanted more. Would have more. Power. Power was all she could strive toward now.
The one, taunting hope was the Enchantress' riddle, rather morbid in itself. For all her knowledge and desire for it, the Princess could not comprehend its disjointed lyric.
The Princess despaired. Wished the Enchantress could have just cut her eyes out, instead of leaving them whole, but so clearly broken.