The beauty is a beast

Night with the wolves

Damien ran through the heavy forest, rain dripping from the blades. He could hear the sound of wolf paws behind him, and he knew he had to get to somewhere safe soon or he would be dead. Unfortunately, there was not any place in sight, and he had no idea where he was. He heard the paws come closer and he knew this was it. He drew the knife from his belt and got ready to fight. The first wolf jumped him knocking him over and he lost his grip on the knife. He tried holding it off as it wildly snapped for his neck. He threw it against the three when another tried to jump him. Suddenly an arrow shot through the air and the wolf fell to the ground. Three more were fired, each hitting their goal. The last few wolfs ran off, knowing they could not win to the bigger threat. Damien was panting wildly, scouting around to catch sight of his savior. He heard a horse neigh and looked up just in time to see a big brown horse come through the trees. The rider was carrying a cape with a hood but let it fall when he reached the injured man. Damien could only make out the features of the rider's face slightly in the dark. It was a young man, around 18 or 20 years old. Damien could imagine he was popular with the girls, as he had high cheekbones, jet black hair, and clear blue eyes.

“What are you doing out here at this hour alone?” The rider asked half-accusing.

Damien opened his mouth to speak, but had to clear his throat, as it had been long since he had last spoken a word of a civilized language. “I was searching for the nearest village - it was longer than expected.”

The rider looked at him through squeezed eyes, as if he was trying to decide whatever or not to trust him.  “Come with me, the village is in the opposite direction. It will take you days to reach it by foot.” He held out his hand for the injured man to take, and Damien gratefully accepted, pulling himself up on the horse.

“Where are we going?” He asked the horse rider. His voice was harsh and hoarse.

“To the castle! The princess is expecting my return,” was the short answer. Damien wondered briefly if the attractive rider was expected by the princess because they were having an affair. It would not surprise him if that was the case: He had heard how royals often treated their staff.

It was a rather short ride to the castle. The port opened upon their arrival and the rider steered the horse to the front yard where a stable boy took care of it. Damien stumbled after the young man up the stairs and through the big wooden doors that the young man burst open in one strong movement of his arms. He followed him into the castle, the entrance hall was big and dark, a big staircase led upstairs, and there were several doors, leading to other parts of the castle. It was silent and Damien could hear the sound of their wet boots against the floor through the sound of the storm outside. Two maids hurried up from a hidden door that he assumed led to the kitchen. They had candles and towels with them, quickly giving them to the men to dry themselves off.

“Is the princess still expecting me?” The young man asked one of the maids, almost as harshly as he had sounded out in the woods. He was looking up the stairs as if expecting someone to suddenly appear.

“I am afraid it is one of those nights sir,” the maid answered, both fear and sympathy in her voice. 

He nodded ruffling his hair with the towel. “Very well, I brought along a man who I stumbled across in the forest. I know we should inform her, but the princess has never denied shelter for a person in need standing at our door. Give him some dry clothes and put him in the green room. Also, he has been injured - make sure to attend to that. And ask him if he is hungry!” The man yelled out while he quickly climbed the stairs, assumingly to go to his own chambers. The maid who had handed him the towel barely looked at him before motioning for him to follow. He tried to ignore the small moment of fright her eyes had shown when she saw his face. They went up the stairs to the first floor where she led him to another, narrower staircase. They went up several floors, till she finally led him down a small hallway to a corner room. It was round in the edges as it was where the tower started. He understood why it was called the greenroom. The walls were covered in wallpaper in gold and dark-green colors. The bed was placed in by the wall with the long end standing into the middle of the room and was made in dark wood material and the covers were velvet and dark green. There were brown leather chairs and a small mahogany table in the middle and dark green drapes at the window. 

The maid left and came back quickly with an older male, looking like a doctor. “Please sit on the chair and remove your cloak, so I can see your injuries,” he instructed while setting up the essentials on the table. Damien froze. He had not realized that these people had not seen his face yet, but now it made him scared. Were they going to kick him out? He took a deep breath and removed the cloak, sitting in the chair as instructed. 

The doctor turned around and gasped, causing the maid to look up. “Oh god!” She shrieked and backed away as expected.

The doctor, however, was quick to recover. “Who are you?” He asked the man - no monster – before him.

Damien looked down. “My name is Damien Arrent. I am from the eastern land,” he answered and the doctor nodded.

“I assume you have a story?” He asked, referring to Damien’s face. It was more animal than human. He had a clear indication of curly fur at the jaw and his nose and mouth looked like they belonged to a wolf. 

He nodded. “A witch, she came to our village, for weeks we thought she was there to help but in the end, she cursed me and disappeared.” He remembered the day clearly, but it wasn’t a happy memory. He had been the one who was supposed to protect the village in his father’s absence, but instead, he had to run for his life once the villagers saw the result of the curse. He still remembered her words: You judge me for my appearance, and so you will be judged, till you find someone who will feel true love for you, despite your looks. You shall be cursed!

From that day he had traveled around trying to break the curse, but he knew getting someone to love him was hopeless. Every woman, he met, shrieked back in horror when they saw his face. He had confronted several witches, but none could break the curse.

“Must have been some curse! Well, Mr. Arrent, I shall look to your injuries now.” The doctor inspected him and stitched up his leg.

“You will have to put your weight off it and keep it still for a while. If I should recommend anything, it would be for you to stay here till your healing is done, but it is not my call,” he told him when he was done, and Damien nodded in appreciation.

“Thank you, doctor.” It had been a long time since anyone took a decent look at him, much less tended to him medically.

The maid came in, he had not noticed she left, with a tray and some clothes. “Mr. Hastings said you will be having breakfast with him and hopefully the princess in the morning but for now he wanted you to rest,” she told him in a small voice without looking and then left. He did not take it ill; he had gotten used to it. Falling back on the big bed he sighed, at least he was safe and comfortable for the night.