Blue Rose and Raven: Chapter Seventeen

Marius finally returns home with the Beast by his side.

I shifted my feet on the front porch. My family’s new home loomed over me. I was a single knock away from seeing them again. I thought over and over what I meant to say. At the same time, I was deathly afraid. Here I was nearly seven months after disappearing suddenly only to show up with a story that in any other context would’ve labeled me insane. There was so much I knew I’d missed. I wondered if I could face them again. A tinge of shame still lingered after my decision to leave. Mother sobbing in the snow refused to leave my memory.

            I exhaled sharply. Just do it, I told myself. You don’t know unless you try. I balled my fist and banged the lion-head knocker. There was a gulf of silence on the other side of the door. I fought the urge to leave. I stared the knocker in the face, daring it to scare me off.

            Footsteps on wood. Tumblers clicked, releasing locks. The brass doorknob turned as the door swung open.

            It was August who answered the door. His light hair, now longer, laid tied behind his head in a small ponytail. He wore fine shining blue clothes befitting a gentleman. His expression was mostly neutral at first. He tended to be stoic anyway, so that didn’t bother me. He opened his mouth to speak before it shut. His eyes widened while his jaw dropped. We stood there in silence with him staring at me dumbfounded while I stood in the doorway.

            “Oh my God,” August breathed.

            “Nice to see you again, August,” I said, smiling.

            With a sudden motion, he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me through the threshold and shut the door. He squeezed me tightly in a hug. After registered what had just happened, my arms encircled him too. We stayed there, hugging each other. A warm feeling spread through my chest as I held my brother again for the first time in months.

            “Where were you?” August said in a small, muffled voice. We separated. His sharp eyes were wet and red. His cool façade utterly vanished. “I thought we’d lost you.”

            “That’s why I came home,” I said, holding my own tears. “I needed to see you again.”

            The interior of the house was finely furnished and clean, a far cry from the cottage I’d left. The front door opened to small pleasant sitting room with couches decorated with brightly colored cushioned. A kitchen with a dining table was visible through a doorway, and a small staircase led upstairs. As if on cue, Camille strode in carrying Caesar while Connie followed close behind carrying two dishes. They were heading to the kitchen when they collectively stopped and turned to stare, mouths agape. Connie immediately put down the plates and rushed to hug me. Camille put down Caesar, and both rushed to join the growing group hug. Camille hugged and kissed my cheek. Caesar hugged my leg like a monkey and reached for me to pick him up. My nephew felt considerably heavier. Finally, Connie scooped me up and bear-hugged me. I squeezed him hard as he swung me this way and that as effortlessly as his own son. He set me down and everyone took turns hugging me, their expressions tearfully joyful. In the happy reunion, I realized there was someone missing. “Where’s Mother?” I asked the family.

            “I think she’s still upstairs,” Connie answered. “She might’ve left early for work�"”

            Connie stopped speaking the moment we all saw her. Mother stood at the bottom of the stairwell. She too stared in disbelief at me. She too was clad in fine clothes, in her case a purple dress. Her face had changed since the winter morning I left. Bags bunched under her eyes. Slight lines on her fine features creased and seemed deeper. Her eyes appeared heavy and burdened. All the wealth in the world couldn’t fix the sadness so clearly written on her face. Overwhelming guilt and love washed over me as we beheld each other again.

            “Hello Mother.” I said timidly. I braced myself for her response.

            Mother raised her hand to her mouth. She choked back a sob. Tears ran down her hand as she ran to me and pulled me to her. She dragged me to my knees with her and clutched me close like a prized possession. She was inconsolable for a moment, weeping and chest heaving from crying. I just hugged her, holding her as close as she was doing to me. I did not cry. But the partial knowledge that I was to blame for her tears was enough for me. Otherwise, I put my guilt to the back of my mind as I savored the reunion.

            We broke our embrace. Mother wiped her eyes and held my face. “Don’t you ever run away again,” She said in between heaving gasps.

I gently touched her wrist. “I don’t plan on doing it again.”

“I thought I’d lost you forever,” She whispered, pulling into her arms again. “Oh, my boy. My sweet boy,” Mother said into my shoulder.

“I won’t leave ever again Mother. I promise,” I told her.

Finally, she let me go and we stood. I turned to face the rest of my family. “I think I owe all of you an explanation,” I announced.

“Explanation? You disappeared!” Camille exclaimed, Caesar back in her arms. “Where did you go?”

“You left without saying goodbye,” August added solemnly.

“We thought you were dead, little brother. You didn’t even write to us.” Connie said as well. “What happened?” He briefly looked to Mother. “It was the Beast, wasn’t it? It kidnapped you.”

“It’s not that simple,” I said under my breath.

“What do you mean by that?” Mother demanded. “What’s so simple about being kidnapped by a monster in the forest?”

“I was not kidnapped,” I said firmly. My words hurt to hear. “I left willingly.”

There was a collective hush in the room. Everyone stared at me, awaiting my explanation.

“I felt like I was the best person to leave the family because�"” I searched for the right words. “�"Because I thought my desires to be a painter were foolish. I felt there was no way for me to help support us when we lived in the cottage. And the fact that Mother had to pay with her life for something that was meant for me was too much. So I decided to leave.” I turned to Mother. “I’m sorry for how I left you that morning, Mother. It hasn’t left me all the time I’ve been away. I can’t imagine how you feel.” I turned to the rest of the family. “And I’m sorry I took all of you for granted. I was too far within myself to realize what mattered most. I caused you all a lot of pain. For that, I am deeply regretful.” The words came unburdened and clear. With each sentence, a great weight unmoored itself from my heart and drifted away. Understanding slowly overtook everyone’s faces in different capacities as I explained myself. Their reactions reminded me of why they mattered and gave me hope. “Recent events have transpired that allowed me to return home. So, I did. For both our sakes.”

“Who else?” Mother asked, her eyes narrowing.

Now comes the hard part, I thought. “I need you all to stay here. I’ll be right back,” I instructed. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

The family looked at each other with questioning glances. I exited the house and ducked into the alleyway. The Beast sat against a wall, clutching her cane. Her beak stuck out beneath her hood like a plague-doctor’s mask. She looked up as I approached. I beckoned her to come with me. “Are you certain this will work?” She asked with consternation in her eyes.

“I’ve told my story. I think it’s better you tell yours.” I reached out my hand. She took it. “I’ll be right there with you.” I assured her. I helped her to her feet.

We walked together back to the front porch. The Beast’s hand shook furiously as I opened the door. I squeezed it in comfort. The door slowly creaked open. The Beast’s cane found purchase on the floor with a dull thunk. My family were sitting on the various cushioned seats. Mother sat in the largest seat, resembling a queen on a throne. Her gaze was the most scrutinizing as I entered the room with the Beast by my side. Everyone visibly bristled as the raven woman’s tall frame bent slightly to enter through the doorway. Her large taloned feet clicked against wood, carefully stepping across the floor. She stood in front of them and threw her hood back. In the daylight streaming from the windows, her black feathers appeared a deep indigo and her beak shining obsidian. The silver on her cane’s head and the gems in their eyes twinkled. Even her black cloak shimmered in the sunlight. She was darkly beautiful, in her way. A picture of otherworldly elegance the likes of which I never knew existed.

As the Beast entered, Connie’s eyes widened. He swallowed, bracing himself on the couch and gently pulling Camille to him. Camille in turn squeezed Caesar tightly. The toddler simply watched the new visitor curiously. August’s normally cool demeanor flickered with fear and a bit of anger. But Mother’s expression was a barely contained mask of rage. Mother appeared ready to take a sword and decapitate the Beast the first chance she was allowed. She drew in deep controlled breaths as she glowered at my companion, daring in its aggression.

The Beast stood with my hand in hers. She regarded the spectators with the nervousness of a confessing criminal. She looked to me for guidance. Fear swam in her bright eyes. “Let’s sit,” I said calmly. I pulled chairs for both of us. The Beast sat poised and ladylike with her cane along her legs. I sat beside her and placed a hand on the Beast’s shoulder. I gave her a small nod.

“It is nice to finally meet,” The Beast intoned, bowing her head. “Marius has spoken highly of all of you.”

“Has he now?” Mother muttered.

I shot Mother a look. The Beast continued. “I understand that our meeting here is under extraordinary circumstances. And I feel there is little I could say to assuage any resentment you carry for me.” The Beast’s throat bobbed. “But I would not have come here if not by my own accord.”

“What do you mean?” Connie asked.

The Beast nodded. “He wished for me to meet you all, I wished to honor his request. I have my reasons for accepting this proposal and I wish to share it with you, if only to clarify things. I understand if you still despise me. I did have a hand in hurting you all.”

She stopped speaking for a time. Her shoulder was tense. I felt her heart pounding furiously through my hand. She looked to the family, then to me again. I held her shoulder.

Mother’s expression softened. She sat her elbow on the chair’s arm and placed a hand to her chin in a pensive manner. “Go on,” she said, motioning to the Beast. “Explain yourself then.”

 

            As the Beast told her story, morning gave way to midday. She told everything she had revealed to me in the manor: Her upbringing, her family, her curse. The Beast spoke evenly and clearly, her chin up. She reminded me of a great orator or a storyteller by a campfire. She demanded attention whether she meant to or not. All the while everyone watched and listened, transfixed. Whether it be her extraordinary appearance, her words, or the circumstances or her just being here, my family remained silent through the entire story. When the Beast finally finished, she took a deep breath. She was visibly spent, but at the same she seemed glad to finally express what she’d kept inside for so long.

            My family’s faces were a mélange of emotion: Connie bit the inside of his cheek as he held his wife and son close; August stroked his chin with searching eyes, his mind lost in thought; Camille held Caesar close with a look of deep sympathy towards the Beast. Mother’s previous intensity was no longer present, having melted like spring snow. Her face held nothing but pity for the Beast.

            “That was�"is quite the story,” Mother said finally. “Never in my years on this earth would I have heard such a tale.” She shifted in her chair. “This has been illuminating, Madame Beast.”

            “Thank you, M. Dufresne.” The Beast said with a nod.

            “I knew something was strange about this town,” August muttered. “Now we know why. Magic! What a world we live in.” He threw up his hands.

            “At least we know, August. It’s better than nothing.” Connie said to August. He turned to the Beast. “You mentioned something about the wolves being caused by your condition. Is there anything that can be done about that?”

            The Beast shook her head. “I only ask that you do not judge me for what I have done. The effects of my spell were entirely accidental, but I understand I have affected the lives of more people than I realize. It weighs heavily on me.”

            “Hm.” Connie responded. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m glad it wasn’t an evil witch that did it,” he said with a smile. “I never would’ve thought something like this could be done by accident. It really puts things in perspective.”

            “What do you mean?” The Beast asked.

            “I mean that even enchanters need help.” He said. “Magic, it seems, isn’t the cure-all like in fairy tales.”

            The Beast thought on his words for a moment. “I suppose you’re right.”

            “Since you’re staying for a few days, why not we prepare a room for you?” Camille interjected. “Then we can have a few meals, show you around town. If you’re willing of course.”

            “Thank you.”

            “Good,” Camille said confidently. “We’ll treat you like a proper guest.”

            The Beast clutched her cane in her lap. “I look forward to our time together. I will try to not to be a nuisance.”

            “I have a feeling you’re the opposite,” Camille assured. “Call it a mother’s intuition.” She tapped her temple.

            The Beast turned to me. Her eyes were glazed with nervousness. I gave her a reassuring smile and nod. Her expression relaxed slightly though she still appeared worried. She faced my family again. “Right then. What should be start with?”

 

 

Author's Note

General thoughts.