Today had been a particularly good one in your opinion. The weather was fair, the traveling was smooth, and the company of Thorin Oakenshield had been in high spirits. The hours passed quickly as you listened intently to their stories and songs. You never grew tired of their grand tales, even though you were convinced that some of them had received more than their fair share of embellishment.
After you had all stopped to make camp for the night, Bofur approached you and asked, "Why don't you tell us a story, lass? You've been listening to us rattle on all day. We'd like to hear from you."
"Oh, I don't know. I'm sure any story I'd tell would be boring compared to those whoppers you came up with earlier."
You laughed when he covered his heart with his hand and feigned a shocked expression. "I'll have you know that every single tale of mine is completely, totally, and genuinely accurate...to a degree."
"Go on!" A few of the others piped in. "Tell us a story!"
"Alright, just give me a minute to think of one."
As you flipped through your mental Rolodex of stories, most of them, especially the ones about your own experiences, seemed to pale in comparison to theirs. "It doesn't have to be about you," you thought to yourself. "Just come up with something good."
Finally, you decided on telling them one of your all time favorites.
"All of you gather around so that you don't miss anything." You watched with a smile as a group of grown dwarves and a hobbit wearing excited expressions scooted closer to you.
"My story begins in a distant land, far from this world. In this land, there was a beautiful castle, the likes of which can hardly be imagined. The resident of this castle was a strikingly handsome young prince who lived all alone, except for his servants. For you see, beneath his beautiful exterior beat a heart that was callous and uncaring."
"One stormy, cold night, an ugly, old woman arrived at the castle seeking shelter. Repulsed by her appearance, the Prince turned her away. He immediately regretted his decision, however, when the old woman revealed her true form as a beautiful and powerful witch. Although he begged her for forgiveness, she refused to grant it. Instead, she laid a curse on him and his entire household. The gorgeous castle took on a menacing appearance, the servants were turned into animate versions of household objects, and the handsome Prince was turned into a grotesque monster. The witch then gave him a magical rose and told him that if he could make someone love him in spite of what he was, before the last petal fell, the spell would be reversed. But if he failed, he would remain a beast forever."
Taking a moment to survey the faces in front of you, you were happily surprised to find that they all, except for Thorin of course, seemed to be listening intently and thoroughly enthralled with your story. As you continued to weave your tale, you introduced them to Belle, Gaston, and Belle's father. You told them all about how Belle came to be a prisoner in the beast's castle and how he eventually began to fall in love with her.
But as you neared the part where Belle sees that her father is sick in the beast's magical mirror, you couldn't fight your sleepiness anymore. So after the beast granted Belle her freedom, you said "The end."
"What?!" several dwarves exclaimed. "That can't be the end!"
"What happens to the beast?" Kili asked.
"Does Belle ever come back to him?" Ori asked, sniffling quietly.
"Okay," you said, "so it's not really the end. But I'm exhausted so the rest has to wait until tomorrow night. Besides, there's something to building suspense. Now, all of you go to bed."
