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Chapter Text

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle. He almost had everything his heart desired, but loss had turned him selfish and unkind. 

One winter's night, an old beggar woman came to his castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away, but she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress.

The prince, embarrassed and pride in shambles, tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart, and as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast, and placed a powerful spell on the castle, and all who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous form, the beast concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. His family moved on and enjoyed his siblings all they wanted, while the castle rotted and the prince was forgotten by all who may have cared by the enchantress's curse.

The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his twenty-first year. If he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair, and lost all hope.

After all, who could ever learn to love a beast?

Chapter Text

Bright, beautiful morning. The light poured in through the windows, and Vil smoothed out his apron and stared upon the town he was there to rock, yet despised all the same, once again. The light is beautiful, an annoying reminder that this town is a dead-end that would never get him anywhere if he didn't find a new place. 

"Little town, every day like the one before," comes an exasperated sigh, hard boots hitting the wooden stairs. He pushed through the garden and past the horse, away from plants that struggled to grow in the malnourished land. He stepped along the stone path and followed the uneven land into the town of his despair, gripping his only connection to the outside world; a blue book that he has read about three times already. "Full of-" ooh, he hates this part! "-little people .. waking up to say ..?"

"Bonjour!"

"Bonjour!"

"Bonjour!"

"Bonjour!"

Wooden windows slammed open and shopkeepers opened their fronts, powdered hair, and working people greeting the same morning they always saw with the same annoying grin. But of course, that's not all, because just as he walks by, another one rings out-

"Bonjooour!"

Another day, another day .. more people who lead this miserable life with him. Sometimes, Vil truly thinks this is a mass hysteria! Maybe they all haven't seen the real world, if they saw the graces of Paris and the true world, they would all run and take it with a jumping start. Yet here he is again, stuck in this miserable town.

A miserable town .. but that bread, as horrible as it may be for him, the only thing they can make right now just brings him in. "There goes the baker, with his bread like always. The same old rolls to sell, just like the morning we came." He finds himself stuck talking to himself in this town, it's pointless to talk! His head leaned closer as he tiptoed closer to the scent, steaming rolls that begged to be eaten. It's a trap, isn't it! Bread would do nothing but get in the middle of his pursuits!

"Good morning, Vil!" The baker waved as he took the cart of bread along, a bored Vil following behind. 

"Good morning, monsieur," he replied, leaning against the wall of the bakery. 

The piping rolls quickly slipped onto the shelves out of the baker's burned fingers, who huffed out of pain. "Well? What are you up to?" He watched Vil take a roll and slip it in the cloth pouch on his waist, bouncing for a moment while Vil spoke up. 

"Off to the bookstore," Vil says, slipping the book open and tugging the ribbon bookmark out. "Just finished this story about a beanstalk and an ogre-"

"That's amazing! Hey, Marie, the baguettes, where ARE they?!"

Vil had slipped away from the distracted baker and instead took his stroll. Waves, whispers, the gossip of France, That Vil, he's such a funny boy! He hopped on the back of one of the many horse-drawn wagons and slid quickly through the town, the breeze rushing over his fine hair and ruining the ironed clothes he had put so much effort into. The gossip, the affairs, I need six eggs - How is your wife? - That's too expensive! 

It's all so minuscule. There must be more than this provincial life. He slid from the wagon and strolled into the library, just a small collection of books that he has already sifted through multiple times. He clutched the book to the chest as the librarian spun to look and greet the only person who comes to visit him. Reading just isn't needed nowadays, is it? Work comes from your hands, not the inside of your imagination or storybooks that you can completely disappear into.

He held his hand out to take the book. "Ahhh, Vil!"

"Good morning," Vil hums as he hands the book back to the bookkeeper. "Just came to return this book I've borrowed."

"Finished already?"

"I was so bored, I couldn't put it down ... well, do you have anything new for me to read?"

The bookkeeper laughed at him. "Oh, no! Not since yesterday!"

"Hmph," he rolls his eyes, slipping up the ladder and rolling towards the end of the shelf, narrowly missing a trip to the ground once he hit the end. "Well, then I will just take .." his fingers skimmed over the collection, picking out a collection of fairytales. A blue cover with golden text etched onto it; he runs his thumb over the text before showing the bookkeeper. "This one."

The bookkeeper then examines the cover and meets Vil with another jest, a goofy smile, and chuckle. "You've already read that one twice!"

"Well, it's just my favorite," he meets him right back with a sheepish look and hands bringing the book back to his chest as if he was protecting it. "Far off palaces, a prince in disguise-"

"If you like it that much, it's yours," he says, a shocked Vil unsure if he should grumble in disgust at the fact he was interrupted again or smile and nod at the gift.

To be kind, he refused. "Oh, but sir!"

"I insist!"

"Why, then thank you!" Slipping the book into his bag as well, he waved to the bookkeeper and was already on his way again. Vil was quick on his feet, walking and reading, narrowly missing a few poor people and waving apologetically. He narrowly missed a bucket of water thrown right in his way, huffing as drops stained the fabric of this clothes 

With a bored, hateful look .. and his head stuck in a book - He's a puzzle to the rest of us, that Vil! The gossip of the people in this town, too busy to care but always finding the time to gossip about the town's local, bitter beauty! He slid onto the town fountain and watched as sheep passed by, crowding around him as their keeper was distracted by conversation.

A crowd that he wishes was full of people, not the sheep and cattle of the town that didn't know they were going to be slaughtered for food soon enough. "And isn't this amazing! This is the part where she meets prince charming .." Why is he talking to sheep? He patted them on the head and stood up, thumb and pinky finger holding the book open. "But she won't know it's him until chapter three." He tiptoed through the sheep and strolled along, waving blankly at anyone he saw.

It's no surprise his name means Evil! 

His glare has got no parallel!

But behind that fair facade, I'm afraid he's rather odd!

He's nothing like the rest of us!

Give him a break. He could have glared if he wasn't already entranced by the book. The way prince charming was staring unknowingly into the princess's eyes and a world of promise was just waiting for them in the next chapters, this is just his only form of escape from this boring life that he was cursed with since he left the city of lights. Maybe Paris had more miserable people, but the drama made it so much less bleak, and he would rather be back there than rot in a town where no one would ever know his name.

After all, he was after greatness. His name would be in big, fancy letters and he would get to meet the King of France one day if he tried hard enough. Fame was waiting and a tiny town in a miserable corner of France was not the start he needed. He had dreams bigger than this.

"Woah! You didn't... You didn't miss a single one, Neige!"

The dwarves crowded around Neige as Dominic lead him through the town. People had gifts for him. They liked him so much that when he came around to talk to everyone, they all said kind words and struggled not to swallow him up with their attention.

"Oh, thank you!" Neige grinned and stared down at his bags of gifts; Apples, loaves of bread, roses, the small amounts of jewelry that the wealthiest of this town owned, he wasn't sure what he was going to do with all this. 

They all crowded and pushed him ahead, stumbling over their feet, Gran pushing at the others while Toby tripped over his own feet. 

"No one in this town stands a chance against you," Hop says, gripping onto one of Neige's fingers and skipping alongside.

They were all met with his charming smile. "Why I don't think so .. but there is one boy that really is interesting!" Neige pointed very obviously at Vil.

Gran was the first one to react, loudly proclaiming his surprise. "The actor's son?!"

"Yes, he and I ... we are going to be great friends!"

"But he's-!"

"The most interesting boy in town!"

"I know, but-!!"

"And that makes me want to be his friend all the more!" He spun around and smiled at the disapproving dwarves, all the while pretending that their conversation wasn't loud and that the only thing keeping them safe was the fact that Vil was drowning in literature.

Silence, a beat passes, then Dominic speaks up. "Well ... ! You do you! But I mean .."

"Right from the moment I saw him, I knew he was special! I've met everybody in this town, but he's the only one who hasn't reacted with complete infatuation, so-" Vil walks by, and he doesn't even notice Neige's conversation, "I'm making plans to woo and befriend Vil!"

Neige moved through the crowd and followed behind Vil, who was still stuck in his book and narrowly missing the busy people. Conversation followed them no matter where they went, gossip and joyful people, the calls of Bonjour, good day, Mais oui, you call this bacon? Ten yards, some cheese, excuse me! Neige broke through the people and followed behind Vil, but the back of his head and the ribbon holding his blonde hair back only got farther. He panicked, but his call- "Pardon! Please let me through!" -was only ignored as the streets grew busier and busier with more waking people.

Vil got hit on the shoulder once and grumbled out loud. There must be more than this provincial life!

Oh, just watch! I'm going to be best friends with Vil! Neige was dreaming at the sight of his future friend just slipping away. He rushed behind him, before finally catching up.

"Vil!" He stopped in front of him, forcing the distracted beauty to stop in his tracks. "Hi!" 

Just his luck. "Bonjour, Neige." He turned away, but Neige peered over his shoulder at the book he was reading. He huffed in annoyance. "You are breathing on my neck."

"I've never read this!" Did he not hear him? Vil felt the perspiration growing on his neck, dripping down his shirt and staining the cotton. "How do you read so much?"

Using my brain. "I have a lot of free time." Vil slammed the book shut and shoved it back in his bag, closing it and hoping the book had a better day in there. So much for a peaceful day.

He tried to walk away, but Neige was clinging like a lost child, annoying him to no end. "Oh, but don't you get lonely? Don't you want something else to do that isn't just reading?"

"I'm just fine on my own."

"Oh, but Vil! Why don't we hang out or SOMETHING sometime? Maybe tonight?"

"I can't. I have to help my father." Neige used puppy dog eyes and Vil almost tossed his cookies. "I seriously can't."

Vil turned to walk away, and the dwarves followed behind Neige, holding onto his legs and trying to brace for the emotional crash of rejection. Neige seemed so off-put, and once again the dwarves were grinning and trying to joke him out of these negative emotions. After all, he is supposed to smile through everything! Who said Vil was even that important, how could Neige be feeling so depressed out of his rejection?

Gran crawled up Neige's shoulders first, sitting on his shoulder and pulling on his head so their eyes locked. "Hey, that old actor is gonna go in the dumps anyways! Who cares, you'll get what you-"

"Don't you talk about my father that way!" Vil turned back to stare at the dwarves in absolute disgust. His purple eyes flooded with anger and it was obvious this was no time to joke. 

Neige mirrored this. "Yeah, don't talk about-" 

CRASH!

Vil's father had sung such a high note that one of the windows in the home broke open. The dwarves were overtaken by laughter, but Vil was infuriated and Neige could only look on apologetically and mumble an apology. It wasn't delivered, Vil was too angry to listen to his apologies for the behavior of his dwarves, he instead stormed towards his home and up the creaking stairs, back into his house to make sure his father was still alive.