Belle Lied
Belle Lied
Refurbished Fairy Tales Book 3
By: S.R. Nulton
Copyright © 2018 S.R. Nulton
All rights reserved.
This story is a work of fiction based off of works of fiction (we hope! ‘Cause otherwise, there are some very odd relationships out there involving amphibians).
No character, place, circumstance or relationship is intended to resemble anyone/thing, living, dead, undead, mostly dead, or anywhere in-between.
The author humbly requests that you suspend disbelief for a short while and enjoy this story for what it is…
Whatever that may happen to be.
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Table of Contents:
Map
Chapter 1: Lies
Chapter 2: Consequences
Chapter 3: Truth
Chapter 4: Deception
Chapter 5: Tradition
Chapter 6: Progression
Chapter 7: Sickness
Chapter 8: Health
Chapter 9: Revelations
Chapter 10: Responses
Chapter 11: React
Chapter 12: Reassure
Chapter 13: Move
Chapter 14: Stand
Epilogue
Chapter 1: Lies
Belle lied. If I have to hear her ridiculous story one more time, I swear I’m going to scream. Everyone knows her little fairy tale by now. Oh, the poor merchant’s daughter who selflessly goes to live with a beast and tames him with her beauty and sweet nature. Puh-leez! What a load of crock!
Okay, so she is beautiful, I will give her that. Actually she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And, yes, her father was a merchant. But everything else is a lie.
I really shouldn’t blame my sister. And I don’t. Well, not anymore. The fact is that my life has always been a lot like a rose, which is rather poetic if you think about it. Just when you think you’ve reached the center, the end of all the drama and complications, it unfurls a little more. Another petal opens; another problem arises.
…And that probably confused you more. Ok, you know what? Let me just explain what happened from the beginning. How does Belle always start her ridiculous stories again? Oh yeah!
~
O nce upon a time, there was a wealthy merchant. He lived in a city by the sea and was very proud of his life and his family. He had five children (not three!), one son and four daughters. His son, from his first wife, was a wanderer at heart and hated the city. When he was about 20, Eric approached his father, the merchant, and asked permission to leave home and join the military. Considering how important the military was to the country, it wasn’t an uncommon or unwelcome request. Eric had always longed to be a soldier and defend the northern border from all the creatures creeping out of the Fey Forest. The merchant was a bit saddened because they would no longer live together, but he gave his permission and within the week Eric was gone.
We will discuss him more shortly, so don’t forget his name, occupation, or career goals.
Now, as for the merchant’s daughters, the four of them could not have been more different. The oldest, Pearl, was delicately beautiful, with platinum hair, a creamy complexion, and an unusual love of battle tactics. She loved war games and chess and convinced her father to allow her to take fencing lessons. And this was all before she turned five. She was generally acknowledged to be a spirited and stubborn young woman. As is often the case, Pearl was completely uninterested in being courted, seeing as most of the men around her were soft and intimidated by her bold nature. The few who weren’t discomfited wanted someone much more feminine. (Only one ever had the nerve to say so to her face, but the scars have healed quite nicely since then.)
His second daughter, Beryl, was raven-haired with green-blue eyes the same color as the precious stone that was her namesake. Instead of taking after Pearl’s athletic figure, Beryl’s was extremely curvy. Her interests mainly lay in gardening and healing. The latter was actually a very helpful skill, what with Eric and Pearl showing up bleeding almost daily from one scrape or another. Beryl was about as mothering as a woman could be, gentle and caring, but driven. Beryl rarely took her attention away from plants and studying various medical techniques and potions. When Pearl finished dueling her suitors for the right to court her, Beryl would nurse them back to health. And then promptly ignore them in favor of whoever was sick that week, destroying their hopes of courting the more mild-mannered sister. Basically, she was very popular and very oblivious. And the total opposite of Pearl in just about every way.
The next child was Belle. As you may be able to tell, their mother was very… literal about things. The first two were named after their appearances. Belle was named after the sound of her laughter, as well as the fact that she was a beautiful baby. Her hair was mahogany, her eyes looked like amber, her complexion faintly golden with rosy color on her cheeks and lips, and her figure was feminine without being too pronounced. Naturally one would assume that she would represent the middle ground between her sisters, but her personality was just as extreme as the other two. The biggest difference was Belle was borderline anti-social. She only ever cared about books and money so she could buy more books. Men were a distraction, which made them want her so they could prove that they mattered. She hated distractions. She also hated me. Belle had been the youngest until Roderick the merchant married my mother.
The merchant, while having a great deal of luck in regards to money and attractive children, had unusually bad luck when it came to wives. Not that he chose poorly. Rather, they didn’t last long. His first wife died when Belle was two, leaving him a lonely little girl he felt the need to spoil. His second wife, my mother, became sick and died just two years after they wed. She was not a wealthy lady however, like his first wife.
My mother was the wife of a ship’s captain. He was my real father. He worked for Roderick, his best captain and best friend. I was five when he died in a storm. He’d been sick before leaving and his first mate, who survived the storm, reported that he had gotten worse just before the tempest hit, making it impossible to escape the sinking ship. The merchant took care of his closest friend’s wife as she grieved and they fell in love.
It was very romantic and I never felt like he tried to replace my father’s memory. He was just there, helping with whatever he was allowed to. A year later, the two were wed and I was in possession of four older siblings. Eric left a few years after, but he, Pearl, and Beryl were wonderful siblings. Belle, not so much. She’s four years older than me and hated it when my stepfather tried to make us become friends.
Oh! My name is Nolana, by the way. I wasn’t named after my looks or my laugh but after my mother’s favorite flower. In case you’ve never heard of it before, it’s a pretty purpley-blue thing that my father brought her from far off lands, which coincided when they found out they were expecting.
Anyway, we lived in the city for a long while, but my stepfather was growing more and more restless. He wanted to leave the hustle and bustle of the “puffed up windbags,” as he called the elite, and go somewhere simple. He and Eric had been in constant contact for years. He’d spent nearly his entire military career working in the north, just like he’d always wanted. Oddly enough, he never said anything about his dreams differing from reality. Clearly his work was appreciated, as Eric had been awarded a sizable property by the king for defending the villages on the edge of the forest from a troll incursion.
Unlike in other countries, Mindep prized military service and considered it much more important than being from a noble family. It wasn’t unusual for men like Eric, war heroes of little to no noble blood, to be granted land and titles; usually the practice served to give greater incentive to soldiers to remain loyal. It also helped motivate them to keep the borders safe in that part of the country when that land could potentially be theirs one day.
And titled and landed soldiers were required to maintain the local militia as well as help maintain any nearby military encampments. The kings of Mindep were fond of multi-tasking and disliked spending money when they could just make one of their loyal subjects pay for the upkeep of troublesome lands and set up a militia. It’s an odd set-up, but it works.
Anyway, my stepfather decided that we should leave the city and move to Eric’s manor. So we did. He sold the business to a second cousin who’d been trained to take it over anyway, and packed everything to move us “across the country to a rough and tumble land on the very edge of a dangerous wilderness.” Belle’s words, not mine.
Pearl was positively giddy. She planned on working with/taking control of the militia, seeing as how they were much less picky about gender in the north. Beryl nearly jumped at the chance to research more healing plants. There were quite a few that grew on the edge of the Fey Forest and she believed she could find even more without going to far in. I was just happy to be away from busybodies who disliked the fact that I wore trousers and was being taught how to fight by my older sister. I was also excited to see my older brother. Eric had told us repeatedly that he missed us all terribly and could hardly wait for us to arrive. To be honest, the only one upset about the change of scenery was Belle, who claimed to be devastated.
“But they don’t have a lending library there! How could you expect me t
o live in such an uncivilized place! It is positively absurd! Father, please, reconsider. At least let me stay here. I can live with Aunt Harmony,” she suggested hopefully.
Pearl started laughing as my stepfather stared at Belle. “Your Aunt Harmony is senile and believes that an Fey nobleman is coming to marry her next week. Besides that, you hate her. I think the last time you saw her was when you were ten and we introduced her to Nolana,” Roderick reminded her.
Belle may not have like Aunt Harmony but I did, and I’d always hated that my stepsister insulted the older woman. I held my tongue, though. I knew for a fact that anything I said would only make things worse.
Belle, meanwhile, huffed and complained that we didn’t understand how she would suffer. Then she left for the lending library. That was not the last argument about the move, but every attempt was met with failure.
We made our month long trip northeast to Eric’s manor during the start of a mild summer season. There were very few hardships, except a few saddle sores and Belle’s constant complaining that we didn’t pack enough books. Every night, while she retreated into more of those dratted books, Pearl would help me review my fencing and other martial arts, Beryl would teach me more herb lore, and my stepfather would make me review my history and mathematics texts.
I know it sounds as if I dislike books, but I truly don’t. In fact, I am a voracious reader, but had to hide that fact from Belle for fear of her claiming I stole her novels. And her personality. (That was her usual fall back, that I didn’t have a personality of my own so I had to steal someone else’s.) So, we passed a mostly enjoyable season together traveling to our new home.
My first view of Eric’s manor wiped away any preconceived notions of a humble country house that I’d ever had. It was beautiful. While smaller than our family’s mansion in the city, it was still a large home in it’s own right. It was two stories and covered in honeysuckle vines. There were enough rooms for all of us as well as an office, drawing room, a pantry in the kitchen, and a library. There were also herb, flower, and vegetable gardens in addition to the small fruit orchard growing off to one side. It was perfect, not too far from the little village, but not so close that there would be neighbors in our hair. And it backed right up to the forest.
Belle hated it on sight. She said it was a “dreary, broken down cottage.” My stepfather was absolutely livid with her, but wouldn’t let her ruin the moment. Pearl wanted to take a look at the wall around the village right away, because it “might need improvements.” Beryl replied that the gardens definitely needed improvements. I just heeled my horse forward as I saw Eric open the front door.
“Hello, my little Lana,” Eric said as he swept me off my horse and up into a hug. “My you’ve grown into a lovely young woman! How old are you now?”
“I’m 15, as you well know! You’re the only one who remembers my birthday,” I shot back with a smile. He really was the only one who remembered. Everyone else had a tendency to forget little matters like that, but Eric made sure that his letters and presents arrived precisely on time every year. He was good about compensating for the rest of the family’s lack of awareness.
“Well, what do you think of the house, Lana? What about you, Papa?” he asked as the rest of the family came forward.
Fatherly pride was stamped on Roderick’s face as he declared, “It’s truly as beautiful as you always said, Eric. I am so glad that we are here.”
Eric looked like he had just been told he was going to marry the love of his life. “Thank you. I love it. And Beryl, I know that you’ll want to fix everything, but please remember that we actually need some of these plants for food come winter. Don’t just tear them out to put in healing plants.”
Our dark haired sister just laughed. “Don’t be daft! Of course I won’t do something like that! I will, however, add some beds for winter vegetables so we don’t have to worry as much about eating the same things over and over. So, do you clean this whole place yourself, or is there some staff to help us?”
“I employ some of the youngsters from town to help with the weeding and a few of the younger women and widows to clean once or twice a week. Now come on. I’ve already unpacked the things that you sent on ahead. I’ll show you around and then we can get you settled. Feel free to rearrange everything.”
So began our lives at the edge of the wood.
~
Eric was very kind to the townspeople, so they were inclined to like us immediately. Pearl joined the militia and got the poor men whipped into shape. In fact, after about three months, other militias from the area were sending men to learn from her and she was highly respected by all the military in the north. Beryl planted and pruned and worked on her healing arts until everyone in five leagues sought her out for cures. She also helped the women in town plant efficiently and produce small decoctions so that they could fight off the most common aliments. My stepfather helped the craftsmen market their goods to far places and to bring in more needed goods. The village market soon expanded to include luxuries that many villagers had only dreamed of before.
Belle kept mostly to herself, but did set up a small lending library out of our house. She never really allowed herself to get close to the people. Now, she wasn’t outright rude, so that was a plus, but she was never kind either. Meanwhile, I tried to keep out of her way and find my own place. Not an easy feat with such accomplished siblings. I mostly ran errands for others. My favorite was when Beryl sent me to the woods to find her new plants. That is where some of my troubles began, even if I didn’t realize it at the time.
I just need to state right now that the forest is NOT haunted. Everyone has always said that the ghosts of the dead Fey guard the edges of their forest, but it just isn’t true. I have never seen any ghosts or ghouls in the woods behind Eric’s house. That’s not to say that they aren’t enchanted. Belle may love to translate old texts and read poetry about long lost lovers and, oddly enough, accounting practices, my reading specialized in mostly old fairy stories. Aunt Harmony was often my chaperone when my older sisters were invited to parties and balls and my stepfather had to accompany them. She used to tell me all sorts of lovely tales about treacherous Fey, evil unicorns, and helpful dragons. She was the one who taught me that not all that looks beautiful is good and many things that are less than attractive are actually kind. (Beryl’s healing draughts after an incident where I ate too much cake helped to make those lessons stick. Medicine may be good for you but it tastes horrible, always!)
The first time I stepped into the Fey woods, I knew that there was something special about them. The villagers completely refused to hunt there, saying that they could only catch small game and that it was too close to the goblin raiders. They also feared the Fey, who had become more secretive and more cruel over the years. Because of that, the villagers only hunted in the grasslands or the woods on the other side of town, which was completely separate from my own and quite a ways off. They often called me “tree nymph” and were cautious to not offend me, fearing my affection for the place. I made a few friends there, but grew much closer with the animals I met in my wanderings.
I was looking for some new specimens for Beryl near a small stream when I met the first of my new friends. I was sketching a plant and noting where it was found when I heard a strange whine from upstream. The animal sounded hurt, so I put down my sketchpad and went to look. It didn’t take me long to figure out what was wrong. A bear cub had landed in a sinkhole.
“Not good. Shhh! It’s okay little one. Is your mother near? No? Okay, let me sing something to you and see if that helps. The cuckoo she’s a pretty bird, she sings as she flies…” I sang softly until the cub calmed down and then I slowly picked him up and placed him down away from the sinkhole. “And she never says cuckoo ‘til the spring of the year. There you go. Now be careful! We don’t want you to break anything,” I chided before looking up. I froze in terror as the cub’s mother thumped over. The cub tumbled over to me, licked my hand and then ran to his mother. She made sure he was unharmed before looking at me and nodding her head slightly. It was a strangely human gesture, but I thought nothing of it. Animals had always liked me, but it was the first time I’d ever encountered a friendly bear. They wandered off after that and I finished my work and headed straight back home. That was quite enough excitement for one day!