Beauty and the Monster ⚤

Chapter Sixteen: Risking It All

Belle sat motionless at the long white table, the excitable chattering of the other guests, ringing in her ears. As much as she had enjoyed renewing old acquaintances and catching up with the friends she hadn't seen in so long, her heart was still decidedly heavy.

It had been little over a week ago since she'd agreed to marry Sigurd, and her delighted father was now throwing a lavish garden party in honour of their engagement. Indeed, the news had come as a very happy surprise for him, but even though he couldn't understand what had brought about his daughter's sudden change of heart, he was glad for it nonetheless.

Had he been aware of her reasons for accepting Sir Sigurd's proposal, then he might not have been so joyous.

Nine days earlier, Belle had been alone in her room, sitting at her vanity table combing the snarls from her hair, when suddenly her reflection in the mirror began to ripple like the waters of a pond after skimming a stone across it's surface.
Alarmed, she jumped from her stool, almost tripping over her own feet in her haste to retreat backwards away from it.
Then, before her very eyes, a female face began to form, and she was further shocked when she realised how eerily familiar the woman was. Recognition replaced fear, as she took-in the waves of flaxen hair which seemed to shine like spun gold, the full, pouty lips, and sharp feminine features.

"Y-you."
Belle gasped, after having rubbed her eyes, thinking they must be deceiving her.

It was the woman on horseback whom she had met on the road whilst on Asgard.
Fearing that she might be losing her wits, Belle resisted the urge to pinch herself. Surely this had to be the result of some bizarre trick of the imagination?

But when the woman spoke, she wasn't so sure.

"Poor child. How frustrating it must be for you, to have won your beast's heart only to have destiny keep you from him."
She said in a syrupy voice, a tone which could easily be taken as mockery.

In spite of herself, Belle's brows drew together in a frown. Even though she was doubting her sanity now, she decided that if she'd succumbed to madness then she may as well as run with it by conversing with the apparition in the glass.

"Why are you taunting me like this? I haven't won his heart. If I had then he would have been honest with me. He would have been willing to fight for me."

"I am not taunting you, princess. I'm a friend. And you shouldn't take his betrayal personally. The wicked Loki has done what was necessary in order to survive. Surely you can't hold that against him?"

"I don't hold it against him, I left to protect him. To prevent the prophecy from coming true. I did it because I love him. To keep him safe. But I can't believe that he loves me in return."

The woman raised an eyebrow, her red lips quirking in amusement.
"You doubt my word?"

"Entirely. I don't even know who you are, or why you seem to know me--"

"I'm your appointed fairy godmother."
She laughed.
"But you can call me Amora the enchantress. I'm an apprentice of Karnilla, Queen of the Norns and sorceress supreme. The Norns are the weavers of destiny. I'm here to assist you."

Belle surveyed the enchantress through narrowed eyes. She was still sceptical. Although she recalled having read about the Norns in one of her books, she still doubted the woman. As well as herself. Perhaps she'd gone stark raving mad.