Beast

She paused when she came to a room that had no furniture. She entered this room, the candles obligingly bursting into flame as she crossed the threshold. She looked around, noticing that this was a room without a window. She realized why when she saw the series of portraits lining the walls. They seemed to be of the same family. The women were all beautiful, the family members having the same blazing red hair. The men's hair was darker, closer to mahogany. The wives and husbands of the family were just as beautiful as their spouses. They all had blue eyes. The family all had the exact same shade of cerulean. The spouses' eyes were varying shades but they were all blue.

Lilly looked to the left of the door at the portrait there. It was of a husband and wife. Judging from their clothing, she guessed that they were painted in medieval times. She followed the portraits around the room. Sometimes it was of a couple, sometimes a single person, sometimes a family. The men showed the most resemblance to each other, the women not quite as much. Sometimes a single man would be painted with a hound or horse. Some of the single women had a little lap dog with them. The portraits were all very large, close to four feet tall, and there were at least fifty of them hanging on the walls of the room. Lilly went from one to the next, noticing that although the women's fashions changed drastically from the first to the last, the men's changed very little. Perhaps a little less lace and from hose to breeches to trousers but their changes were, overall, much more subtle than the ladies'.

When she got to the last portrait, Lilly thought there was a slight difference in one of the men's appearances compared to the other men. One was bearded, not unusual as several of the other portraits were of bearded men, and more slightly built than the other. He was stooped, though he appeared young, as if he spent his days bent over a desk. The artist had captured a very dark expression on the thin man's face. Lilly shuddered and turned her gaze to the larger of the two men. This was the one who was a little different. He was obviously a brother to the thin man but he seemed to be taller than any of the other men of this family. His shoulders were more broad and his physique much more muscled. This man looked like he spent his time outdoors perhaps helping the servants to care for the horses. He had the suntanned look of an outdoorsman. As she looked at the portrait of the larger brother she thought she saw something a little off. She looked at some of the portraits preceding this one just to be sure then looked back to the large man. His eyes were not the same shade of blue as all the other men of the bloodline. Theirs were all a pure blue, his were an intriguing shade of blue-green. His bone structure, though slightly larger than the other men's, was the same shape. The portrait directly before the brothers' was of a couple, their parents most likely. Lilly saw that the mother had the family eyes and the father's were very close to the same shade, perhaps slightly darker but not the same as the green-eyed man.

A wild fantasy began as she stepped back to observe the last two portraits together. The couple looked almost old enough to be the brothers' grandparents. Lilly began to think that they, for some reason, couldn't have children. They'd tried for years and in desperation the wife turned to another man, perhaps a servant, for a child. She's of the bloodline so the child would look enough like pure family to pass. A very short time after she had the other man's baby, she became pregnant with her husband's child. The husband was probably overjoyed at first to have two sons but as the brothers got older, differences between them would likely become more pronounced. The older brother was robust, healthy, loved the outdoors. The younger brother was frail, perhaps sickly, and loved studies. The father probably doted on the healthy one, confident he'd survive all the usual childhood sicknesses. He'd be more aloof with the frail one, perhaps afraid to get too attached; afraid he'd die from one of those childhood sicknesses. This was sure to cause jealousy in the younger brother. He wanted his fair share of his father's attention and affection but when it wasn't forthcoming he set out to see if a rumor he'd heard once was true. A rumor about the timing of his brother's conception and birth. The healthier brother was supposed to have been a month early but he was a very large baby for supposedly being early. This must have been what the younger one was thinking when the artist captured his expression. He must have grown to hate his brother and want him disowned for a bastard. If he managed that he would be the sole heir to the family's estate.

Lilly wondered, as she stood before the portraits, how the thin brother would have tied to get rid of the robust brother. Just by looking at him she could tell that he wouldn't be able to best his brother in physical combat. From the looks of the larger brother, not many men could. If he was the better liked of the two, that would likely rule out ordering a tenant to assassinate him. That left poison or magic. She wondered which he would have used. Some poisons left tell-tale signs and might have made people suspicious of him. Magic, especially killing magic, was as dangerous to the user as to the one it was being used on. However, the thin brother had the look of someone who would stop at absolutely nothing to get what he wanted.

Lilly shivered and turned to leave the portrait room. The older brother's image caught her eye as she turned. He looked almost the complete opposite from his frail sibling. She could tell why he would be the better liked of the two. Laughter seemed to hover at the corners of his mouth as if he couldn't be somber for the portrait sitting. If her thoughts of him joining the tenant farmers in the fields was true, then that could only serve to endear him to the common people especially if he did it from the goodness of his heart and not for any ulterior purpose. She looked at the eyes once more and had the oddest sense she'd seen those eyes before. But that was nonsense because almost everyone she'd ever met had blue or brown eyes. Her sister Violet had eyes the color of violets and her own eyes were blue-green-grey but she could think of no one who had eyes that particularly intriguing shade of blue-green. She decided to ponder that question later. For now, she left the room and continued down the corridor.

She opened more doors and looked into more rooms. Some doors opened onto other corridors, some opened onto staircases leading up, down, or both directions. After several minutes of walking and peering into deserted rooms with sheet covered furniture she finally came to the end of what she was sure was the central corridor. A staircase led up to her left and the corridor continued to her right. She turned right and continued her wanderings. She'd only gone a few yards when she came to another stairway leading up to the next floor. She wasn't ready to turn back so she just shrugged, reveling once again in the slide of the soft mink fur against the tops of her breasts, and climbed the stairs. The flight was a short one and ended in a door. She opened it and was confronted with yet another corridor extending to her left and right. She decided to tie a ribbon around the handle so she'd know which door to use when she retraced her steps. There was a thin green ribbon threaded through the neckline of her gown that tied in front, keeping the scant inch of creamy skin that the dress covered above her nipples from being exposed. She reached underneath the cloak, untied the satiny ribbon, and pulled on the left end of it to free it from the bodice. It slid free easily, allowing the neckline of the dress to fall completely from her shoulders and expose the tops of her large, very dark areolas. She shivered with the naughtiness of having so much of her breasts uncovered. The secret place between her legs started to tingle and her overly large clit began to swell.

She tied the ribbon to the door handle and continued down the right hand corridor. Her skin became hyper sensitive as the fur of the cloak rubbed the upper curves of her breasts. Their increased movement made the fur rub all the more and kept her nipples erect. She continued to open doors, noticing that some of the staircases that led down from some of them could possibly be the same stairways that led up from the corridor she'd followed earlier. The carpet she walked on was a red, gold and brown paisley pattern and so thickly padded that her feet practically sank into the softness. The walls were a plain light gold color with thin stripes of red and brown that echoed the colors of the carpet. She came across several sets of four or five steps going up or down. She thought there might be rooms below with varying ceiling heights. After a few more minutes of walking, windows appeared in the wall to her left and she came to the end of the current hallway. Again she had the choice of stairs to her left, though they went down this time, and another passageway to her right. She turned right and soon came upon a single door. She opened it and had to wait for her eyes to adjust to the gloom inside. Even though candles had leapt into flame at the opening of the door there weren't enough of them to completely light the room which was small by the standards of the castle and oddly shaped. After a moment of staring she realized that the room had five sides. Every wall was covered with bookshelves or cubbyholes. Every bookshelf was crammed with books and every cubbyhole held multiple scrolls. She looked down at the floor and could make out enough of the carpet to realize that it was black with white lines on it connecting the points of the room, forming a pentagram. She stepped into the room and walked over to the heavy desk in the center. Several books were stacked there and one was lying open in front of the chair. Morbid curiosity gripped her as she slowly walked forward. She leaned over to try to see what the book was about but it was in a language she'd never seen. The letters looked strangely twisted, as if the words and sentences they formed were so horrible they tried to get away from themselves.

She had just decided that this room was not anyplace she wanted to be when a door opposite from the one she'd entered from crashed open and rank smelling steam boiled out of the room it led to. She caught a glimpse of more shelves and cubbyholes but the shelves held all shapes, sizes and colors of glass bottles. The cubbyholes held more scrolls and, from what seemed to be crows feet sticking out of one, animal parts. She didn't catch more than a glimpse though because her attention was riveted to the figure in the doorway. It was the thin brother from the last portrait in the portrait room. She stared at his wild dark hair and icy blue eyes. She remembered that the clothes the brothers had been wearing were 150 years out of fashion. She didn't know what to think except that she wanted out of here. She opened her mouth to excuse herself but didn't get a chance to speak.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my private library!?" the man yelled.

"I'm so sorry," Lilly said in a very contrite tone. "I didn't know this room was private. I'll just leave now. Please excuse me."

She turned to go but the man seemed to move with uncanny speed. He crossed the room and grabbed her upper arm.

"Not so fast, wench," he snarled. "You're the one who invaded my private rooms. I think you need a lesson on the consequences of sticking your nose where it shouldn't be."

"I'm sorry," she said, trying to twist her arm out of his bony grip. "I didn't know. I promise I won't come here again, just let me go."

He ignored her. His gaze was already drawn to her almost completely exposed breasts. What had been an extremely pleasant sensation, that of having her nipples almost peeking out over her neckline, became extremely humiliating. She tried again to turn away from his lecherous eyes but he just jerked her back. He reached up with his free hand to push aside the one side of her cloak that still covered one breast. That was the final straw for Lilly. While he was distracted, she lashed out with her right leg, her shin bone connecting with the sensitive organ between his thighs. He immediately released her arm to clutch himself. She turned and ran back out the still open door behind her while he yelled obscenities at her retreating form in a rather high-pitched tone of voice.

She fled almost blindly down the hallway, the candles in the wall sconces bursting into flame as she passed. She ran until the corridor seemed to fall away. She barely paused, flinging herself down the stairway, holding her skirts up with one hand and touching the wall for balance with the other. She ran until she came to a dead end. She frantically looked left and right, yanking the door to her right open and running down yet another corridor. This one was rather short, taking a sharp left before another set of stairs led upward. These stairs were twice the length of the other staircases she'd climbed or descended so far. She was gasping for breath by the time she reached the top but still she dared not stop. She ran on, the sameness of the corridors becoming a blur in her mind. This corridor curved slightly to the left. She was several yards down it when she tripped and fell down one of the short sets of steps. She hit the side of her head on the edge of one of the steps and crumpled to the floor at the bottom of them.

She dreamed again of running through woods. The branches of the trees were so low and dense she had to fight her way through them. Briars left stinging scratches on her arms. Exposed roots threatened to trip her with every step. This time she felt a sense of menace following her but she knew that if she could find the path that led back to the castle she could find safety.

She woke with a start. She thought she could hear someone calling her name so she slowly sat up, fighting the wave of vertigo that threatened to overwhelm her. She was chilled and her muscles were stiff from being in that awkward position for what seemed like hours. Using the wall for support she stood. The voice seemed to be coming from in front of her but the hallway's curve prevented her from seeing any light from the candles. She took a few tentative steps forward. When the voice called again she knew that it was Beast and not that monster she'd met earlier.

"I'm here," she tried to call out when she heard her name again. Her voice was weak and thin, probably from the cold. She shivered and drew the sides of her cloak together over her breasts.

"I'm here," she said again, her voice stronger this time. She stopped to lean against the wall when she saw the glow of candlelight approaching from around the curve of the corridor. Faint at first, it grew stronger until the approaching light merged with the lit candles surrounding her. Beast came into sight, looking worried then relieved when he saw her.

"When you didn't come down for supper I went up to your room to look for you," he said. "I tried calling you but when you didn't answer I set out looking. The candles led me to the fourth floor and down this hallway. If you'd gone just to the end of it you'd have been on one of the balconies above the entrance hall."

"I didn't know," she said. "And I was running and I had a horrible stitch in my side and I fell and hit my head."

"Why were you running?" he asked.

"I was running from that...that horrible man in that room with all those books in that strange language."

"So you've met Simon. I can't say I'm surprised that you'd run from him. He's delved so far into dark magic that it's twisted him physically."

"I saw him in a portrait first. Him and another man. But how could it be the same person? That portrait must have been painted 150 years ago."

"It is the same man. As I said, he's been involved in the blackest of magic trying to find immortality. I'm not sure if he's found it but he has prolonged his life."

"The other man in the portrait; what happened to him? I had the thought that maybe he was an um...illegitimate brother because his eyes were a different color. Maybe he was better liked by the parents and the people but his brother hated him and wanted him dead."

"You'd be right. After years of no children the lady took a servant to her bed while the lord was away. The lad was barely a year old when she conceived her husband's child. The servant who fathered the eldest boy was hearty peasant stock. The lord who was the younger boy's father was frail and often in ill health. There were whispers about the firstborn son being so robustly healthy when he was supposedly born a month early. There were even more whispers as the boys grew up and the differences became more pronounced. Simon heard them and started asking questions. He figured out that his brother was a bastard and tried to disown him. He was unsuccessful, however. The title came from their mother and since the oldest son was, indeed, of the bloodline, there was nothing Simon could do legally. He turned to black magic...are you alright?"

"I'm just a little woozy. I must have hit my head harder than I thought."

"Would you allow me to carry you to your room?"

"I think I'd better. The floor is spinning and it's making walking difficult."

Beast lifted Lilly easily into his arms. He carried her as if she weighed no more than a mere kitten. She draped her right arm across his shoulders and curled into him. Her left hand rested on the fur showing at the open throat of his tunic. She couldn't resist running her fingers through it, luxuriating in the softness. She dropped her head to his shoulder and glanced at his face. It was much more human looking than she'd first thought. His cheekbones weren't as prominent as they'd seemed at first. His nose was rather flat and catlike but his mouth, despite the elongated canines, was full-lipped and kissable. She blushed as that thought crossed her mind and turned her attention back to the patch of shaggy fur she was stroking. She continued running her fingers through it as Beast walked on silent paws down the corridor and out onto one of the balconies above the entrance hall. She saw him swallow hard and looked again into his face. He was looking determinedly ahead so she glanced down to see what could have caused him distress. She blushed again when she saw that the bodice of her dress had slipped down and almost half of her nipples were showing above her corset and chemise. She stopped fondling Beast's fur and reached down to tug her bodice up. She was only partially successful. The corset had shifted downward slightly and had taken the gown's bodice with it. The very edge of her areola still showed above the neckline. She kept hold of the gown as they made their way around the balcony and down the main stairs to the second floor. He carried her down the long corridor, turning left at the end, and stopped in front of her bedroom door.

"Dusk has fallen only an hour ago," he said as he set her on her feet, sounding like his throat was slightly constricted. "If you'd like to join me in my reading room for a light supper, I'd enjoy your company. Of course, I'll understand if you don't feel well enough tonight."

"I don't think I should try the stairs myself yet," she told him, still standing in the circle of his arms. She couldn't resist running her hands up his forearms to feel the incredible softness of his shaggy fur. "But if you'll give me half an hour to change my gown and repair my hair, I wouldn't mind if you joined me here for supper. Perhaps you could continue the story you started earlier; tell me where you fit into it."