Cursed

25. Belle Facing Fears

25. Belle Facing Fears

Ever since the first night I had had that nightmare with Daurien and my father, I had been having similar dreams every night. In every single one of them someone died at the hands of Daurien who I knew with every bone in my body would never do something so cruel to an innocent.

Why did it keep coming up in my dreams? Yes, I was his prisoner, but I wasn't un happy. I was here for a reason, I realized. Daurien needed me. I didn't know exactly what I was supposed to do but I needed to be here to do it. And I could see enough in Daurien to make me want to do it.

He was so good to me. He challenged me intellectually, he made me laugh. I had yet to make him laugh but I couldn't blame him. He'd been unhappy for so long, he was simply out of practice. I would get him to laugh one of these days, I'm almost positive I caught a few suppressed smiles.

I wondered what could cause these nightmares. There really was nothing about Daurien that I feared now. I'd been at Rose Manor a few months and he had been nothing but kind to me. More than that, he cared about me. Why else would he come bursting into my room in the middle of night at the sound of my distress?

What was even more strange was that when he held me, I felt safe. I didn't care that he was covered in an in human layer of fur, or that his soft soothing voice when he comforted me held a slight animalistic growl. None of it mattered when I was in his arms. When I was in his arms the nightmare was gone and nothing could hurt me, least of all Daurien. How could someone who makes me feel so safe pop up in my dreams as such a monster?

Every night I had a similar dream and every night Daurien would throw open the door to the sound of my screams, breathing hard with concern in his eyes. It became such routine that I began to call for him. I needed him. Maybe I wasn't here just for him. Maybe I needed it, too.

...

"I want to exercise," I told Daurien one morning at breakfast. I watched him almost swallow his fork in bewilderment.

"You want to do what?"

"AllI do here is read and eat and I've gained weight so I need to exercise." He looked me up and down, allowing me to notice his scrutiny. I blushed.

"You don't look any different to me."

"You mean I was always this fat?" I blanched. His expression changed drastically as he realized his mistake. Never ever call a woman fat.

"You're not fat, you are not even plump! You are exactly as you should be.  I... didn't, that's not..."

"I know I'm not fat. But I have rounded up a bit and I don't like it so we are going to start exercising."

"We?"

"Yes, we." He looked at me utterly stunned, "I am not working out alone and it wouldn't hurt you to get a bit of moving in."

"I don't need exercise, I have inhuman strength."

"It's not good for your health to live like this."

"I've got magic, it has kept me alive this long. I am sure it can continue to do so for a few more centuries," he seemed far too satisfied with his argument. I scowled.

"You are going to do it for me because I feel uncomfortable with my body and you would hate to be an indirect cause of my suicide due to self-esteem problems."