Moist lips touched Eldric’s dry ones, and he heard her voice, as if from far away.
“Beast! Oh, my sweet Beast! Wake up! Don’t be dead. Wake up! I love you. I will be your wife. Wake up! I need you!”
A weight lifted off his chest, and he heard her sobbing.
His breathing eased. His head cleared. He opened his eyes and slowly, achingly, sat up. He felt… lighter, somehow.
Corinne was turned away from him, her face in her hands. Her honey-colored hair fell in a disheveled tangle down her back.
“Corinne!” Eldric’s voice sounded strange in his ears. “I’m awake. I’m here. What do you need, my love?”
Corinne turned around. The joy on her face flashed instantly into horror, through revulsion, and settled on rage.
“Eldric!” she snarled. “How did you get here? Where is my Beast? What have you done with him? If you have killed him, I will kill you.”
She reached into the saddlebags flung on the grass beside her and yanked out a smaller version of the rifles that Eldric had, in recent years, been seeing the hunters in the woods surrounding the castle carrying more and more frequently. She held it out in front of her with both hands, leveling the barrel at his chest with a terrible expression on her face.
Bewildered, Eldric looked around. His gaze caught his hands. They were… small. Hairless. Clawless.
He was human again.
“Corinne!” He backed away from her, hurriedly pulling off his vest, his shirt, his undershirt. “I am your Beast. Look! Here are the scars I showed you, from the years I spent learning my way through that maze of thorns around the castle!”
They were still there, pale ridges criss-crossing his now much smaller, much less hairy torso and arms.
She dropped the strange small rifle, one hand going to her heart and the other to her mouth.
“He — was — you — all that time? You — were — him — all that time?” Her voice was hoarse with grief, rage, horror, astonishment.
“Yes.” Eldric looked down at his hands again, feeling suddenly ashamed. “The sorcerer cursed me, too. I couldn’t figure out how to tell you. I was afraid that you would throw away everything you’d come to know about who I am now and reject me. Must I win your heart again? Must I prove to your mind that I am no longer the spoiled prince you tried to escape?” Without conscious intention, his voice had turned pleading.
Emotions fought in Corinne’s face.
“Yes,” she said, after a long silence, “and when you have, I will marry you. Now put your shirt back on. We need to save our kingdom.”
~*~*~
This is a story that I’ve been iterating, off and on, since I was thirteen. I could never quite decide at which point in the timeline of the story the presentation of the story ought to begin, and there were large chunks of the middle of the plot and character development that I couldn’t quite work out. After the kids’ bedtime tonight, I was thinking about my almost-two-year-old’s current favorite story, Interrupting Chicken, and its version of fractured fairytales started me thinking about the fractured fairytales assignment in the interdisciplinary first year experience course that I team-teach with two colleagues during Fall semester, and that started this story unspooling in my mind again — with a few new tweaks. Perhaps inspired by Kaylriene’s post about his month of Twitter streaming — and perhaps because I am procrastinating putting together the last OChem unit exam of the year — I decided to just write it up here on WordPress and post it.
As it happens, the story is beginning where it originally began when I first started composing it at thirteen: at “The End”, with the rest of the story to be told in (probably non-chronologically-sequential) flashbacks.
No guarantees about if/when other installments of this story might appear!