Caerwyn waited for Belle the next day in the garden they had planted together. The roses were blooming with large petals in white, red, orange, and pink. They were his favorite flowers in the garden because despite their loveliness, they could still cut someone who wasn’t careful. It reminded him of Belle, always carrying her weapon at her hip. And of himself, how even when he was as careful as could be with Belle, he was still dangerous.
The day came and went and she never arrived. Caerwyn tried reassuring himself that Belle wasn’t able to come every day. Perhaps word of Prince Maxen’s presence the day before made her father overprotective and she just couldn’t make it. But then another day passed, and then another. The longer he waited, the less vibrant his flowers were in his eyes. The world itself had lost color without Belle.
His father found him sulking in the garden. He laid a hand on his shoulder and joined him on the ground. Caerwyn’s tail wrapped around his waist and he leaned away from his father’s touch.
“One day, Caerwyn, you’ll understand that people like me – people like you – are not meant for this world. As much as everyone wants a wish granted or a spell bought, they fear what we can do so much more. And so, we must choose our battles wisely. It took me decades to obtain my own security in this world. A security I can only give you at a great and terrible price.” He touched a tusk on Caerwyn’s cheek.
Footsteps interrupted Caerwyn’s response and they turned to the visitors. An old man twisted his cap in his hands, his eyes looking between the two of them with a great uncertainty. He had never seen a creature like Caerwyn and between the father and son, he wasn’t sure who to address. And so, with his head lowered, he fell to his knees and pleaded with the both of them.
“Please, I will offer anything if you save my daughter.”
Behind him were his elder daughters, the same despair in their own eyes. None could believe that Belle was gone, stepping in their place without a moment of hesitation. They were supposed to protect her and they had failed.
Caerwyn recognized them from the image the looking glass had shown him of Belle’s garden. He leapt to his feet, startling them.
“What’s happened to Belle?” he asked, his voice cracking.
It took only one look for realization to dawn on them. For the inventor, it was the sharp claws, for the sisters, it was that worry in his blue eyes.
“You’re the man?” the eldest sister breathed. “The one that Belle’s been meeting all this time?”
The enchanter stepped between them, his face set. “I’m sorry, but I cannot help you.”
“Please,” the inventor begged once more.
“Father,” Caerwyn pressed. “Where is Belle?” he asked the sisters.
“Prince Maxen has taken her to be his bride.”
His heart felt as if it had stopped. As if a hand had reached into his chest and grabbed it, squeezing it until it could no longer beat. Belle would be wedded to the prince. Worse, she would fall in love with the prince. With an enchantment that used his own love for her. She would look at Maxen the way he looked at her and it was too much to bear.
He grabbed his father’s arms. “You have to stop him.”
The enchanter knew what all of this meant to Caerwyn. How deeply ironic and deeply tragic it was for him to have given a fragment of his son’s heart to the man going to marry his son’s love. But the terms of the deal were set and Maxen had made his choice and it would assure the safety of countless others.
The enchanter shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, my boy. I cannot save her. The bargain was made.”
“Then make a new bargain! Or break this one,” Caerwyn continued, desperation bleeding through his words.
His father looked wounded by them. For Caerwyn did not know that the enchanter’s greatest fear was that the king and queen would go back on their own bargain and steal back the son he loved so very dearly.
“A deal with an enchanter may not be broken easily. Should either party go back, the consequences are dire,” he explained. “But, a bargain may be altered. Something exchanged for something else. And it’s never an easy thing to give up.”
“I have gold and inventions,” the inventor offered. “My own life.”
“I will broker a new deal with the king and queen, should you answer one question.” His eyes fell on Caerwyn, so many unsaid words in his expression. “Who are Caerwyn’s real mother and father?”
The sisters exchanged frowns and the inventor looked over the beastly man before him. “Is that all we must do?”
The enchanter nodded. “You have three guesses and three days. By the third day, Belle will drink the enchantment and fall irreversibly in love with the prince. Then, no one will ever be able to save her.”
“We don’t have time for games!” Caerwyn shouted.
“Those are my conditions,” his father said firmly and went into the house, slamming the door behind him.
And so, Caerwyn told the clever inventor and his clever daughters everything about himself and how he came to be the enchanter’s adopted son. They went home that night to come up with a guess for the following day.
Caerwyn went to his room, stomping his feet loud on the stairs and kicking the door shut. Each step was heavy as he paced, letting the entire house know just how upset he was. He didn’t speak a word to his enchanted things or eat the dinner brought to him.
Eventually, he curled into bed, holding his looking glass close. “Show me Belle.”
Belle was given a lavish room and lavish clothes and lavish jewels. Everything to make her into the princess she would become. She had arrived on horseback, seated in front of Maxen who kept his arms tight around her. When they stepped into the castle, she was shoved into the arms of a chambermaid.
“Scrub the filth from her. She’s been galivanting with something quite foul.” He rubbed his thumb across her lips that he so badly wanted to kiss, but the image of them touching the beast made him sick. “Make sure she’s cleaned thoroughly.”
Her skin was scrubbed raw, her simple gown exchanged for something of unnecessary luxury, and she was brought before the king. He looked over his son’s new bride approvingly, though he had that lecherous look she knew so well from the soldiers roaming the streets. Men were all around her, not even the queen present to meet her son’s betrothed. Never before had she felt so scared and only then did she truly appreciate everything her father had done to protect her, even if it was all now in vain.
Despite the new life that awaited her of luxury, one in which she would never be in want for anything ever again, never fearing she would be dragged from her home by a soldier like her mother was, she found herself crying herself to sleep every night.
This was how Caerwyn looked upon her from the looking glass. Her beautiful golden hair splayed across the fine silk bedding, a lovely nightgown covering her even lovelier body. Her face was buried in her arms as she sobbed where no one could hear her and no one would console her. His heart ached miles away, unable to do a single thing to reassure her that he would come for her. No matter the cost, he would give anything for the new bargain.
The inventor returned the following day with his daughters with their first guess. They proposed Caerwyn was born to a woman who was rumored to have made a deal with a devil to save her sick child. Caerwyn had told them how often his father mentioned how small he had been when he brought Caerwyn home with him.
He looked to his father for the answer, wondering if he had indeed been born to the poor woman who had succumbed to heartbreak after losing her child.
The enchanter shook his head. “She is not his mother.”
And so, they went home to come up with another guess. Caerwyn reminded them everything he knew then went to his room and looked upon Belle again.
They repeated this the following day, this time guessing that Caerwyn was born to the man who’s second wife had tried to get his children lost in the forest to be eaten by animals. Caerwyn recoiled at the thought that such horrid people could’ve conceived him.
Once again, the enchanter shook his head and said, “He is not Caerwyn’s father.”
And once again, the inventor and his daughters returned home after hearing a third time all that Caerwyn knew about himself. They had a final guess and a final chance to save Belle.
Caerwyn held the looking glass tight in his hands, his tears falling on the image of Belle, still trapped in the castle, a day away from drinking an enchantment that would make her forget her love for Caerwyn.
He cursed himself for never trying to find his parents before this moment. If he had been searching the previous years of his life, he would surely be closer to the answer than he was now. But then, an idea came into his head, but he needed a clever inventor with clever daughters to help him.
Caerwyn stood farther away from his home than he ever had before. The looking glass was heavy in his satchel but his heart felt even heavier. For fear of the unknown had kept him always near his home. Fear of a cruel king and queen that his father always warned him about, always afraid they would steal him away. But then something else swelled in his heart, lifting the burden of fear just enough that he was able to take one step after the other and search for the inventor’s home.
It wasn’t too difficult, not with Belle’s map that she had left behind one day and the enchanted mirror to guide his way. Soon enough, he found himself at the gate of Belle’s beautiful garden, and he knocked his beastly knuckles against the wood.
The eldest daughter recoiled at the sight of him for only but a brief moment, then her eyes softened. It wasn’t herself to blame, for Caerwyn was something to recoil from. But Belle’s sister saw the love in his eyes for Belle and did not fear him. She let him into their garden where Belle’s family searched through every story and every bit of knowledge they had in pursuit of the man and woman who had traded Caerwyn for a wish. They had an array of resources, from books to rumors to neighbors but Caerwyn had something far better.
He offered them the looking glass but with the solemn explanation that when he tried to search for his mother and father, the glass had only shown him the enchanter. The inventor took the mirror first.
“Show me Caerwyn’s mother,” he asked.
The mirror’s image turned cloudy then returned to reflect the inventor. Caerwyn chewed his lip, wondering if this meant his mother was no longer alive.
The youngest of the remaining sisters took it next. “Show me who gave Caerwyn to the enchanter.”
Once more, the image did not show them anything.
The next youngest took the looking glass. “Show me the man and woman who traded their son for a wish.”
The glass went cloudy then showed a string of images. Many faces were strangers but a few were recognizable. But they only had one guess left and there were several people shown to them.
The eldest daughter held the looking glass, thinking long over her request.
“A bargain changed for something else,” she muttered. Then, she lifted the glass and asked, “Show me the king and queen.”
The image first showed the king, a man known for his overabundance in lavish things. He enjoyed a banquet before him, cheerfully engaging with those around him. Caerwyn peered at the image, catching a glimpse of Belle at the end of the table, seated next to Maxen. But then the image quickly shifted to the queen.
She sat alone at her spinning wheel. Dark circles hung under her eyes that were glassy and unseeing. For the enchanter had not warned her the greater price for magic. Anyone could learn to spin gold from straw, but only those who were like the enchanter, born with magic in themselves, would never lose themselves to the toll that enchantments bore on a person.
The enchanter said that spinning helped to calm his mind, but it had long ago ensnared the queen’s mind. Her bargain had taken its toll but a new one could be made for the return of Belle.
The inventor and his daughters looked to Caerwyn, for they were clever and had found the answer to the enchanter’s question. But now Caerwyn had a new choice to make. The only bargain that would save Belle would deliver him to the very place his father had always feared him to be. For surely they would demand the return of their firstborn, the child to take the place of his mother who had traded him for a wish. A mother who had never thought to love him.
The inventor let Caerwyn stay with them that night and the sisters gave him Belle’s empty room. Every corner smelled like her and everything in the room was everything he expected to be there. Books were scattered, some left open as she moved on from one story to another, maps tacked onto her walls with arrows pointing to the places she would someday see for herself, inventions taken apart with each piece meticulously labelled. At her bedside, a rose withered in its vase, petals piling atop the book Caerwyn had given her. She had laid in this very bed, reading the stories he treasured. The stories that had saved a woman’s life.
In the morning, Caerwyn returned to his home with the inventor and his daughters. The enchanter waited in the doorway, his eyes saddened with the knowledge that they had figured out the answer.
The eldest of the daughters stepped forward to answer for them, since it was she who had deduced it. “Caerwyn is the firstborn son of the king and queen and true heir to the kingdom.”
The enchanter dipped his head. “You’ve answered my question. Now you know the bargain that can be altered. A son,” he gestured to Caerwyn, “For a daughter,” he raised his other hand to the inventor.
The decision weighed heavy on Caerwyn, for he would be sacrificing everything to bring Belle home. He would lose her and his father, and become the beast chained to the spinning wheel, continuously bringing wealth to the kingdom he would never inherit. He thought of Belle’s unspoken wish, the one he believed would be used to lift his curse. Perhaps if he was traded not as a beast, but as a man, he would have a chance at living as a prince. But no. He had learned his father’s enchantments and the kingdom needed gold to more than it needed another prince.
Caerwyn turned to the inventor, towering over him. Even when he didn’t mean to be, he was intimidating and beastly. But his eyes were soft and so very sad. “I only ask one thing for returning Belle,” he said gently. “That she be allowed to see the world.”
The inventor was brought to tears, realizing he would get his daughter back. She had given herself up in her sisters’ place but Caerwyn would now take hers. He nodded fervently.
The enchanter looked upon his son, whom he had long ago promised to do anything for. And his son wanted nothing more than to save the woman he loved from an accursed life married to a man she did not love. And so, he would have to lose the son he had longed for his entire life.
An audience with the king was something the enchanter never expected to demand, but it was easily given. For the enchanter had already graced the king with more gold than he could ever spend, try as he might, and he was eager for another exchange.
The inventor brought only his eldest daughter for the exchange and it was only by her insistence that he brought her along.
They, along with Caerwyn, looked in awe at the magnificence of the castle. Gold plated every column, dazzled from every chandelier, and adorned every coat. Once more, the queen was absent from meeting with the audience for she hadn’t left the spinning wheel in over a decade.
Maxen looked upon the inventor whose daughter he had stolen away and his arm tightened its hold on his soon to be bride. In hours, she was to drink the enchantment and they would be wedded in the morning. He was growing very impatient.
Belle looked upon her father first, relief swelling in her heart at the sight of him and her sister. Then her eyes fell on Caerwyn and she longed to run to him. For him to lift her into his strong arms and take her away from this place.
“The devil returns,” the king greeted from his throne.
The enchanter only nodded, for he did not bow to any king as he was not bound to any man of this world. “I have made many deals for you and Prince Maxen. My services have brought wealth to your once dying kingdom. And I have given your son an enchantment to finally have his bride.”
“All given to us by a fair deal,” the king asserted, growing suspicious. “Do you bring this beast as a pet now?”
“I come to amend a deal we made many years ago.” He beckoned Caerwyn forward. “A son for a spinning wheel that makes gold from hay.”
The king sneered at the sight of the monster before him. “That is no son of mine.”
“Do not be fooled by the simple enchantment, for this is surely the very child I was given.” With a tap to Caerwyn’s forehead, the enchantment fell away, revealing the young man Caerwyn truly was.
Hair vanished, revealing a strong jaw. Hands replaced large paws. Only his brilliant blue eyes were unchanged. Though the transformation was but brief, everyone who looked upon Caerwyn saw Maxen’s double. Brothers who had never known one another yet who shared a face beneath the enchanter’s spell.
Maxen’s own blue eyes, which lacked the kindness of Caerwyn’s, burned with anger at the beast. His fingers dug into Belle’s arm, remembering how she had kissed him. Maxen always prided himself to be the most handsome in the land and then he saw Caerwyn’s true face. It was not right.
The king, though, was quite amused. He clapped his hands at the show. “Clever devil, you are! Disguising my son with such a hideous enchantment. But as you see, I have a proper son, I’ve no need for him. I’d rather keep the spinning wheel.”
“That is not my bargain,” the enchanter said. “I’ve come to propose an alteration to our deal. Caerwyn for Belle.”
The room went silent. All that was heard was the gasp that came from Belle. Caerwyn tried to reassure her with a smile but Maxen just held her tighter.
“Caerwyn has learned many things from me, least of all how to spin gold from hay. The queen has been driven mad from the spinning wheel in the tower. She will not last much longer. But Caerwyn can take her place, producing more gold in a month that she would in the short time she has left. In exchange, Belle is released back to her family and Maxen must find a new bride.”
“Absolutely not!” Maxen screamed, jumping to his feet. “Belle is to be my bride and I will make no such deal.”
The enchanter ignored him, staring at the king. “The man whose deal I’ve come to alter must decide.”
The king was already grinning. All it took was the promise of even more gold for him to agree without consulting his son on the matter. With all the gold they were going to have, Maxen could buy as many brides as he wanted.
And so, Caerwyn took the place of Belle as prisoner of the castle. Maxen was enraged by the exchange though his shouts were unheeded by the king. Belle returned to her father and her sister. The clever eldest daughter of the inventor hugged Belle close and whispered in her ear the warnings of the enchanter.
“Whoever goes back on a deal with an enchanter shall suffer dire consequences.”
Belle was as clever as her sister and so she began to scheme. She asked for a final goodbye to Caerwyn. Her arms wrapped around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, letting her tears fall.
“Do you have your mirror?” she whispered and he nodded. He slipped it to her arms and she held it out for everyone to see, particularly Maxen. “Keep this close to you,” she said for all to hear. “So that you may see me anytime you wish.”
She lifted herself onto her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
Caerwyn shared an even briefer goodbye with his father before he was dragged away to his new home where he would spin gold for the rest of his life. The son he had longed for all his life was gone and he was once more alone. He turned away from the inventor, his many thanks falling on deaf ears. A daughter for a son and he was left empty.
Caerwyn looked at his mother for the first time. The haggard woman had aged far beyond her years and her blind eyes could not look upon the son she had traded for a wish, subsequently handing her life over to the accursed spinning wheel. The enchanter’s words rang true for she perished that night when she was pulled away from the wheel.
Caerwyn was chained to the room with a metal band on his ankle. He sat upon the stool his mother had spent the last of her life at. The wheel was no different from the one he had at home. Straw littered the floor, nearly knee deep, and he begun to spin. He found the perfect spot to prop his enchanted mirror so that as he spun, he could look upon Belle.
She returned home with her father and sister, crying for her love that she had to leave behind. In all this, he still hadn’t stopped her tears, but at least she could live her life and not lose her heart to the cruel prince.
When evening came, Caerwyn made a bed in the straw and held the mirror close. All was dark but the image of her until the door opened, spilling in a stream of light. Caerwyn looked up to see the prince standing over him. He looked down at the beast with disgust and rage in his eyes, for he had lost his bride. No amount of gold would purchase him a wife as beautiful as Belle. He snatched the mirror from Caerwyn’s hand and locked him in the tower.
Belle, clever as she was, expected it not to take long for that very thing to happen. For her tears were not for Caerwyn to see but for Maxen. The prince would look at his lost bride sobbing over the beast, a man who looked exactly like Maxen beneath the spell, and the man who was firstborn to the king and queen.
Maxen was a jealous thing, above all else. It was why he disposed of women so easily when they did not return his affection. It was why he always sought to keep those around him beneath him. Why his only friend was still nothing more than a peasant in his eyes. Caerwyn had warned that the enchanted mirror could lead a person into madness and it was only a matter of days before it ensnared Maxen’s mind.
Clinging the love enchantment close to his heart, he raced back to Belle’s village to retrieve what was his. When the doors to her home were flung open and soldiers stormed in, destroying anything in their path, the inventor and his daughters could do nothing to stop him from grabbing Belle and returning to the castle with her.
His father, so wrapped in merriment that was supposed to be from Maxen’s wedding, did not see the prince carrying Belle into the castle and up to the tower where Caerwyn was made prisoner. Belle remained as calm as she could manage, hoping that the deal would be broken soon and Caerwyn and she would be free.
Caerwyn was startled from his seat when the prince stormed into the room, dragging Belle behind him. Wild fury raged in his eyes, his hair disheveled and sweat coating his brow.
“You think you can steal what’s mine?” he spat. “A beast as hideous as you will never be a prince. You will never be worthy of her love.”
He pulled the bottle from his coat and bit the cork off. Caerwyn lunged to stop him by the chain caught and he was just out of reach. Maxen grabbed Belle by the hair and forced the liquid into her mouth. She coughed as much as she could, but some escaped down her throat.
Maxen let out a slow laugh, turning to the beast who struggled and snarled at him, fighting for his beloved. “You’ll watch as she falls in love with me.” He retrieved the second vial but as he looked at his hand, his eyes widened.
Hair began to grow in thick patches, his nails turning to claws. He released Belle and tried to pull the hair from him but he yelped in pain. Slowly, more patches erupted along his arms, over his chest, down his legs. He cried out as his legs shifted and shaped into that of a wolf’s. A tail ripped from his back, tusks jutted from his cheeks, his nose elongated.
As Maxen transformed, so did Caerwyn. Just as the prince shifted into beast, the beast shifted into man.
Maxen looked at himself in the enchanted mirror, seeing his horrible face that finally matched those horrible eyes of his. Caerwyn never truly looked a beast but Maxen was nothing less than one. He screamed and wailed at his accursed self, ramming his body into the magic spinning wheel. With his beastly arms, he threw it against the wall, shattering it into splinters.
“What have you done!” he screamed at Caerwyn. “What have you made me?”
“You broke the deal,” Belle answered. “One must never go back on a deal with an enchanter.”
Maxen let out a horrible cry, something that was truly monstrous. He lunged at Caerwyn with a splintered piece of the wheel.
Caerwyn was not a fighter but he was an enchanter. Maxen was thrown against a window that shattered. His body nearly toppled over and Caerwyn reached out to grab him. Maxen looked down at the sharp rocks far below him then at his horrible new hands. With a kick to Caerwyn’s chest, he let himself fall, for if he could not be the most handsome in the land, he could not be.
Belle ran to Caerwyn and he enveloped her in his human arms. Fur did not scratch her and a tail did not brush against her. Fingers slipped though her hair without fear of harming her and cheeks turned scarlet for the first time.
Belle looked up at his familiar yet new face. His blue eyes suited him and a single dimple dotted his left cheek. She touched it, remembering a tusk was once there.
“Caerwyn…you’re the true heir to this kingdom,” she whispered.
Indeed it was so. Caerwyn hadn’t given that a single thought, never thinking that he would inherit this land. Maxen was the rightful prince, not he.
He shook his head. “I don’t want this. I want to see the world with you.”
And so they fled back to the enchanter’s home. When Maxen was found, all thought him to be the beast Caerwyn who flung himself from the tower in madness. The prince was never to be found and with his spinning wheel destroyed, the king could not make any more gold. News of this spread far and wide in no time and allies turned to enemies, for a friendship bought in riches was lost as quickly as it was gained.
The king, who had adorned himself in the most lavish of things, lost his head when he had no more money to pay for his protection. Cruel soldiers became crueler as they sought out gold to compensate for their losses, but a helpful band of merry men had recently ventured into the kingdom and defended the defenseless.
Caerwyn returned to his father. The enchanter embraced his dear son and the enchanted things welcomed him home with Belle. But Caerwyn did not remain long, for he told his father that he and Belle wanted to travel the world and see the beautiful places in the stories they read.
Though it brought great sadness to him, the enchanter agreed. “I have a friend who can bring you along. It’s a dangerous world out there, my son.”
Caerwyn looked at Belle. “Which is why we must be brave.”
“I have a wish,” Belle said. Caerwyn was taken aback, for she had promised to never ask a wish from his father. “If you are to turn Caerwyn back into a beast, then make me one as well.”
The enchanter smiled. “Caerwyn has lived long enough as a beast. I’ve done all I can to protect him but now the time as come that he must be on his own.”
And so, with sad goodbyes but promises to return, Caerwyn and Belle prepared to finally see the world. Caerwyn left his enchanted mirror with his father so that he may see them again. The inventor gave Belle a music box with dancing figurines of him and his daughters so that she may remember them always.
On the morning they were to leave, a thief named Robin and an enchantress named Ciana came to guide them through the land. Ciana thanked the enchanter for his powerful sleeping enchantment that had put the terrible monster to sleep but there were still many evils in the world.
The enchanter gave his son a final embrace. “Should you ever find yourself in trouble, call my name and I will be there for you.”
“You’ve never told me your name.”
He smiled. He was not an imp or a trickster or a devil. He was simply Rumpelstiltskin.
Be Bold 