Author's Note: I cannot thank the people at the Bittersweet and Strange forums enough for their help with this fic. You are all absolutely wonderful people. Thank you, TrudiRose, for the suggestion of the title.

"Then—then you must go to him."

The beginning of the end.

"What did you say?"

No turning back now.

"I release you; you're no longer my prisoner."

It's over.

"You mean…I'm free?"

Fate is sealed

"Yes."

Forever a Beast.

The Beast stared into the depths of the wilting rose, constantly replaying the final conversation with Belle in his mind. So close to the end, yet his only chance to reclaim his humanity ran away on a galloping horse. Why did the Enchantress even bother to try and save him? No one could ever learn to love a beast.

He didn't bother to turn his head as the sound of pinking metal approached and acknowledge the intruder, just another reminder of his curse, damning many innocents to share in his hell. At least he would eventually die and know peace in the blissful ignorance of death. The servants would outlast him until time forced their material to rot and no one was around to make repairs, conscious of every crack and chip in their frame until finally they fell apart.

"Master?"

"Leave me be, Lumière," he pleaded, unable to feel anything but doom and despair.

"My prince, please, for all our sakes, go after Belle, and tell her how you feel."

"Why? So she can tell me in plain French that she hates me? She made that very clear already."

"Hates you?" Lumière barely stifled his laugh behind his candlesticks. "At some distance away, I saw and felt affection and adoration pouring off of our dear mademoiselle tonight."

The Beast placed a paw on his chest, remembering the feel of when Belle laid her head there, so content, so trusting. "No! Lies, all of it!" He growled, shaking his head free of the painful memory. "I imprisoned her father; he would have died in that cell if she hadn't come for him, begged for his life. I trapped her here, a selfish means to an end. How could she ever forgive me after all that? How could she feel anything but loathing for this animal, this creature, this monster?"

"Was her actions tonight really just 'let me placate my captor and maybe he'll go easy on me?'"

The Beast refused to dignify that with a response.

"She doesn't hate you, master. She brought you back home to heal your wounds after the wolf attack, rather than let you die in the woods. She clearly made the best of the situation here, and dare I say enjoyed your company more than anyone else's? The only person outside of this castle I've ever heard her mention in a positive light is her father."

"In the town where I come from, the people think I'm odd. So I know how it feels to be…different, and I know how lonely that can be."

"She would have said something if she was coming back. She saw the pain I was in, but she said nothing!" He slammed his fist into the table, rattling the bell jar. Lumière chewed on his wax in nervous anticipation of the sound of breaking glass, but the jar settled down, moved only a tiny fraction of an inch.

"This may surprise you, master, but even I was scared to tell Babette that I loved her at first, terrified of rejection, because she was so special to me. Could it be that Belle was scared of that same rejection if she told you how she felt?"

He snorted in disgust, and then allowed the concept some thought. The confidence that she had all night turned into shyness when he escorted her to the outer balcony, free from all eyes except his, but when he said her name, she eagerly turned to him, graciously accepting his paws around her hands, receptive to whatever he had to say, as if she was anticipating him to make the first move… "Maybe you're right, but it doesn't matter. She's gone, and I'll be twenty-one in a few hours."

"All the more reason to go after her! We're so close, Master, please!"

"Lumière, I—"

The crack of the heavy door handle harshly striking the wall interrupted them as Beast whirled around, hoping against all hope that Belle had found her father and brought him back to the castle where they both belonged.

"Find Belle and bring her back!"

The Beast frowned and turned away, ignoring the frantic teapot, until his right foot was suddenly surrounded by a pool of hot tea. "What do you think you're doing?!" He roared, balancing on one foot as he shook the other dry.

"Chip is nowhere to be found. He was last seen outside of Belle's room, and must have run off with her. I can't lose him, sir; he's all I have left of my dear Peter!"

An angry rebuttal died on the tip of his tongue as long-forgotten memories of Mr. Potts suddenly flooded his mind. The man was more of a father to him in his early years then his own absentee father, giving him love, attention, and the discipline that he needed so badly. For all his arrogance in his childhood, he at least tried to honor Peter's memory by being kind and gentle with young Chip, who only a toddler when his father died. If he lived, maybe I wouldn't have brought on this curse… "I will bring him back, Mrs. Potts," he promised, slipping out of his jacket and tossing it on his bed.

"And confess your love to Belle!" Lumière begged, but Beast showed no reaction as he changed for the journey.

The melting snow made the soil soft, making it easier for the Beast to follow the draft horse's hoof prints as he chased the snaking path all around the forest, crossing back and forth all around the established roads. "She's riding around in circles, trying to mask her trail so I can't pursue her," he growled, kicking up dirt. "It was all a ruse to escape! Chip, you fool, why did you follow her?!" He took a few steps to the right, feeling his foot dip into a shallow hole in the road. He looked down and saw Philippe's hoof print, slightly deeper in the dirt then every mark he found before. "He must be carrying extra weight, she found her father." He followed the deeper prints to the road, where they suddenly became farther apart as the horse picked up speed. He looked around for the castle, but saw nothing but trees. "She must be closer to her home in the village," he reasoned. "Perhaps if she found him near the castle, she would have brought him there." Perhaps, answered his cynical side as he took off running down the trail.

The Beast was as comfortable in the forest as he was in his own castle: the master of his domain. As the trees began to thin out and the settled land began, fear began to take hold, stronger than any chance of being rejected by Belle. The outside world didn't care about him, laughed at his pathetic excuse of holding power in his own home. No one would stop to plead for their safety if they saw him outside their window, they would scream for someone to come and kill him, and some would gladly leap at the chance to earn fame and glory among their peers for having the trophy head of a monster mounted on the wall. Even Maurice simply cowered before him, as if the old man expected to be consumed to satisfy his bloodlust, but Belle did her best to argue logically for her father's release, acting as if he was human. Even when he showed her the truth of what he actually was, she never derided him for being an animal, only when he was acting like a jerk. To her, he was always human.

I have to find her. I have to tell her. Even if she can't break the spell, it would be enough just to have her near. With new resolve in his heart, he stepped out of the last remnant of the woods and into the human settlements. Dark clouds covered the moon, casting everything in dark shadow. A storm was coming, but with luck, he could get everyone back to the castle before the rain fell. He carefully moved on four paws, ready to run at the slightest disturbance, but no one heralded his coming. No house was lit, and he stayed as far away as he could from the smaller structures sheltering the livestock.

Thinking back to every time she spoke of her old home, he couldn't think of anything specific that would place her house in the country or in the town itself. He knew she owned Philippe but anyone could keep a horse in town if they were wealthy enough. She never mentioned what her father did to support them. In all the time she spent there, she had only mentioned her father on the rarest occasion; no doubt too painful to think about after he threw the poor man out like unwanted trash, without giving them a chance to say goodbye. All he could do was keep following the trail of hoof prints and hope.

Philippe snorted before grabbing another mouthful of grass, slowly chewing the first grass of spring. Did he really have to carry his master and mistress back here? He rather liked his new home at the castle, especially the mysterious objects that moved without human hands. Never had he enjoyed the privilege of constant attention! If he had the slightest itch, the brush jumped to relieve him. As soon as he woke up in the morning, his feeding trough was full of hay and oats, even though Belle swore she did not fill it. It didn't take much to cajole an extra apple or two out of the pitchfork, just an innocent, pleading look. Now he was back in Molyneux, without even the company of the goats and chickens. Their scents were faint and dead, probably sold off while he was at the castle. Not even the delicious freshness of the grass was enough to make up for the drastic change in his lifestyle.

He stopped mid-chew as a scent came on the wind; his ears perked up high as he nervously studied his surroundings. Predator, run, screamed his instincts, but he stood still, giving the scent further thought. It seemed so familiar… The man-animal Belle calls Beast! What was he doing out here? The two silently stared at each other, Philippe swallowing his food as the Beast smiled at him.

"Good to see you, boy," He softly whispered as he carefully rubbed the horse's nose. "Is Belle inside?"

The horse nodded, silently praying that the Beast could convince his humans to go back to the castle as he watched the man-animal approach the cottage. Belle seemed so much happier there, telling him daily stories of the jovial antics of the objects, rather than ranting about how badly Gaston or any other villager annoyed her that day. Sure she had a fair amount of complaints about the man-animal, but the positives were much more common the past few weeks. And how could anyone ask him to give up his devoted servants?

The Beast lowered himself to all fours as he knocked on the door, embarrassed to present himself this way to Belle, but he was too tall for the doorway, probably for the house itself. The small size, much like Belle herself, filled him with humility and embarrassment that he was such a gangly brute. He didn't belong here, didn't belong in this world designed for humans. How he wished for his gilded cave, but without her beside him, what was the point of going back?

His heart skipped a beat as the door opened, smiling as his dear love filled the door frame, together again, just as it should be. If only she felt the same way, as instead of returning his grin, she stepped backward, her hand stifling a gasp of fear. This was a mistake. I never should have come, he thought as his smile vanished. She hadn't responded to him this way since the night they first met.

As soon as she recovered, she grabbed his arm and roughly pulled him inside, slamming and locking the door behind him. She didn't say a word, nor even turned to acknowledge him, only leaned against the door, breathing deeply. Awkwardly hunched over as he stood on two legs, he reached out to put a comforting paw on her shoulder, but she whirled around before he could touch her, her face filled with fury. He shrank back down to all four paws, confident she was going to tell him off for ever thinking she thought well of him.

"What were you thinking?" She hissed. "No one knows you like I do. If Gaston knew you were here…" Already unbidden images of his head on Gaston's wall came to mind, those beautiful blue eyes numbly watching the men praise the hunter for his latest trophy rather than scorn him for being a murderer. She shuddered at the thought, desperately attempting to rid herself of such horrors.

"Who is Gaston?" He brusquely asked as his fur stiffened and his paws clenched. Was he a suitor that she conveniently failed to mention, or perhaps a lover? Belle's eyes widened, was that jealousy in his tone? "Never mind, it's not important. Chip is missing."

"No, I'm not, I'm right here," the boy replied as he bounced into he room.

"Your mother is worried sick about you, why did you run off?"

Chip hung his head in shame. He didn't think about that.

"He was confused and concerned about why I left," Belle interjected. "I was going to bring him back as soon as my father was well again."

"He was your only reason for returning?" The Beast loudly demanded, angry at himself for being taken in by her fake sincerity earlier. He didn't even see the images the mirror showed her, what if it was all a lie? What if her father was perfectly well, safe in the comfort of home? If Chip was never a stowaway, would she have given a second thought to those she left behind?

"Keep it down, Papa needs his rest!" She ordered, and the Beast gruffly complied, letting the anger in his eyes say everything. "No," she answered in a much softer tone then before. "Even if Chip stayed in the castle, I would have come back as soon as Papa was well enough to travel."

"For Lumière, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, Chip?" He bitterly suggested.

"Is it really so hard to think I'd come back for you?" She snapped, "Or am I a fool for thinking you actually have a heart beneath all that fur, that you actually care about others?"

Now it was his turn to be taken aback in surprise. "But I imprisoned your father, and then you out of spite and anger. He would have died under my neglectful watch. Look at me, Belle, I'm a monster!"

She shook her head, and knelt before him, placing a hand on his cheek. "It wasn't a monster who saved my life twice, who showed me kindness and true friendship this past month, who shared the best night of my life with me just a few hours ago. It was a man, a man's soul trapped within a beast's body. I didn't want to leave you, but I couldn't leave Papa to die alone, not when I could try and save him."

Confess your love, do it now, came the ghostly voice of Lumière in his head, as he carefully wrapped his paw around her forearm. The perfect moment, don't wait any longer! "I couldn't stand to see you in such pain. I couldn't hold you back any longer. You haven't been my prisoner for a long time now. Not since Christmas, after I had time to think and realized how much of a fool I was to accuse you of trying to escape. It was selfish of me to hide the truth from you, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner that I always meant to come back. You mean so much to me," she pulled him into a tight hug, her body relaxing as she felt his soft fur. "I don't ever want to leave you."

Now, damn you, now! "Belle, I..."

A series of loud, hacking coughs interrupted him, and Belle quickly ran to her father's side. "Papa?"

"I'm alright, I—" Another cough came over him, making him turn purple before he managed to control it. "I'm alright."

"No, you're not. I'm fetching the doctor."

"Belle—"

"You told me you've been in and out of those woods all winter, focused on nothing but finding the castle, what if you have pneumonia?"

Maurice kept quiet. There was no arguing with her in this state.

"Take Chip and go back to the castle. I'll return when Papa is well enough to travel," She instructed the Beast as she grabbed her cloak, quickly fastening it around her.

"We have a doctor at the castle," Chip pointed out.

"I don't want him moved, and the village is much closer."

"Wait," the Beast pleaded, getting between her and the front door. "I don't want to leave you. I can hide somewhere, perhaps in the cellar?"

She shook her head. "People will find you, and Gaston will kill you. How can you ask me to go on knowing you are a head on that man's wall? Please, go home, I'll feel so much better knowing you are safe."

An argument died on his tongue as tears began to fall down her face. He always vowed to prevent them, never to be their cause. "As you wish," he conceded, wiping her face dry with his paw.

A large smile engulfed her face as she threw herself at the Beast, kissing his cheek as she held him tightly. "I don't want to leave you either," she confided, stepping back before the stunned Beast had a chance to respond and retreating to her father's room for a second. "Use this to carry Chip," she said as she returned, handing him a heavy satchel.

He reached inside and felt the familiar engravings on the handle. "The mirror? I can't, it's yours."

"Take it with you, so you can watch over my progress with Papa, and soon watch me race though the forest to come back to you once more."

"Alright," he conceded, holding the flap open as Chip bounced his way inside. "Be careful, Belle."

"You too, my Beast," she replied, kissing his cheek one last time. He crept out first, clinging to the shadows around the house's perimeter, protectively watching as she mounted Philippe and quickly brought him to a gallop as they sped away.

"Why didn't you tell her?" The cup demanded, sticking his head out of the satchel's flap. "The rose is almost dead."

A noble lie was on the tip of his tongue, but instead he found himself telling the child the truth. "Fear, heart-pounding crippling fear of rejection, of being reminded I'm an animal while she's an angel."

"But she kissed you, doesn't mean she loves you? In the storybooks…."

"Not every story has a happy ending."

Chip's lower lip quivered as tears came to his eyes, "I just want to be human again."

Of all the innocents cursed from his selfishness, Chip was the most innocent among them. He was only a young child who played no part in his corruption, who probably considered him a good friend though he confessed that he barely remembered his life before the spell. "You will be, I promise," he vowed, removing the mirror from the satchel. "Show me the girl."

Author's Note: In a small comic book mini-series called "The New Adventures of Beauty and the Beast," depicting stories of when the prince and Belle were children, and life before Belle came to the castle, Mrs. Potts said the young prince "had a surprisingly gentle way with you, Chip" near a panel of the prince pushing Chip on a swing. I wanted to explore why an arrogant young prince would care about a servant's child when he clearly had no problem mistreating the servants.