Beauty and Her Beasty

A Light in the Darkness

Willow's Point of View

It took myself and the elves lots of effort to transport the Beast, but somehow we did it. Unfortunately though he did not regain consciousness during the whole ordeal of lifting him, which even though I am no doctor I took as a bad sign.

As if reading my mind Portia spoke up, whipping sweat beads from her brow. "I have never seen the master so...so...peaceful." She suddenly shivered seemingly in disbelief over the thought.

"Indeed." The male elf agreed, he then pushed his way past me and up onto the bed with a small hop. Which caused his glasses to fall from his nose.

I managed to catch them just in time and placed them carefully in his now outstretched tiny hand. "Thank you." He muttered. Then he waded as I had seen Portia do earlier across the sheets and up towards the beast's head.

"What are you doing...I'm sorry but I do not know your name." I questioned as I joined him next to the beast's face.

"My name is Clarkson and I am checking his wounds obviously." He rolled his eyes as if I were stupid. What wounds? How would such a monstrous creature be hurt?

My thoughts of confusion were put on hold when Clarkson gently swiped back the hair on the beast's arm, causing the beast though still unconscious to flinch. Long and deep gashes sketched the dark skin beneath the fur. The cuts were swollen and an unpleasant looking yellow fluid coated them.

A nasty taste of vomit creeped up my throat. I had to clasp my hand to keep myself from hurling on top of poor Portia, who looked as disgusted as myself. I now understand why he fell unconscious, his wounds were clearly infected.

That's when it hit me. He got the infections from the wolves that he only fought to save me! This was all my fault I was repaying back my...oh hero doesn't seem right at the moment...my rescuer (much better) by not only having held at him but now he is suffering from painful wounds.

"Hot tempered fool. I told him...but no he insisted on being..." Clarkson trailed off and moved the beast's fur back into place. He clucked his tongue once, disapproving.

"Portia would you go get-"

"Yes on it! I-I will go get band-bandages!" Portia interrupted Clarkson, having regained her senses from the shock but her eyes were still wide saucers. She then hurried past me and scampered out of the room.

I watched as she left amazed at her loyalty. Vaguely I wondered if she would tell the other elves of their "master's" condition. But my attentions were turned back to Clarkson at the sound of him leaping from the bed. This time he was quick to catch his glasses when they fell.

He then paced to the opposite side of the room and sighed rather loudly, almost defeated. Something about Clarkson was different. Unlike Portia who was happy to please, Clarkson didn't seem afraid to speak him mind, and he carried himself in such an unmistakable and important manner. That has to drive the beast wild!

I turned my head to the Beast who despite his condition did look rather peaceful as Portia had said. But the pang of guilt would not leave my chest at what I had done to him. A dark thought suddenly crept into my head: What if he never wakes up?! What if I never get the chance to say thank you?! Oh why did I have to be such a selfish human? Here I am only thinking of myself when he needs help!

My burden of sorrow became too much and I collapsed onto my knees in a fit of sobs. This was all to much...I miss Andre...I need him...I can't feel so much guilt...the beast, my rescuer, must wake up. I buried my face into my palms.

A small tap hit my knee out of no where. I removed my hand from my face to see Clarkson before me, he looked somewhat concerned and perplexed.

"My lady what is the matter?" He tilted his head to look at me better, eyes locking onto mine. He was radiating a feeling of genuine concern that I thought was impossible for him only minutes ago.

"It's nothing...it's just-just that I...everything is so much right now and I feel it all settling in at once. And oh Clarkson I'm so sorry for your master being hurt that...was...my fault as well...." My voice shook with raw emotion as I spoke. Clarkson's eyes softened to what I read as pity. Pity for the poor girl before him in a pool of her own tears, for what I realized is my second time today.

"My lady the Master's infectious wounds are in no way anyone's fault but his own. You see he refused to listen to my requests to clean them properly, and instead chose to...well" Clarkson paused mid sentence like he was thinking of something different to say, he let out a weak cough instead, "And I do understand that this is so much for you and your stay here has been one of sorrow so far. But I will make sure that we change that for you-say I'm afraid I do not know your name, my lady?"

I rubbed away my tears and half smiled at the warmth Clarkson's comforting brought me. "Willow."

"Well then Lady Willow," Clarkson reached for my hand that wasn't wrapped in bandages. "What do you say we get you something to eat? Yes that's a good start indeed! And a change of clothes? Oh yes you will love that!"

I couldn't help but giggle at the playful side of Clarkson as I stood to my feet. However the light mood ended when my eyes found the unconscious Beast again.

"But what about-"

"Oh Portia and the others will tend to him." Despite he reassurance I swear I saw a glint of sadness in Clarkson's expression. But as quick as it came it vanished.

"Come now lady Willow it is time that you be our proper guest!" Then Clarkson lead me out of the room and back into the now shockingly familiar hallway of the enchanted palace.