The House of Stone

Arabella and Adam

Opening the red journal that was embossed with an R burned into the leather, I began to read. My husband, Rebekka's father had written to her.There are stories, legends really, that have been passed down through time and history. I don't think it was ever put on paper; if it had, I would have found the book. I am very curious as I am sure you and your brother will be. Maybe it was never written for fear it would slip into the hands of someone unworthy of reading it. My Father, your Grandfather, the Alpha of the House of Stone, prefers the version that depicts conflict; battles won on the battlefields. Where the defeated is shackled, imprisoned then mutated by dark magic to become a weapon. My Mother, your Grandmother, a lowly born pure blood, fancies the tales of sacrifice. In the name of true love. Where the hero, who is but a beast against all rhyme or reason, is tamed by a gentle touch. This is the story that I write for you, Rebekka. I pray that you will grow to have the gentle touch, much like that of your mother. My beloved, Constance.My love, do you know the story of Prince Adam? Has your mother or Grandmother regaled you with the traditional fairy tale written by French novelistGabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve. Or have they held you while you watch Disney's latest rendition of Beauty and the Beast? This my child is a similar story..... He is an over-indulged, selfish, and vain young man; to the point of cruelty and malevolence. A witch, in disguise, comes to his castle late at night during a storm. He turns her away with a flick of his wrist. By a flick of hers, she makes him as ugly on the outside as he is within. "When the world sees beyond the shell you now carry, AND the stone within her chest beats with desire born of (protectiveness) I will return and lift your burden."So, in order for the Prince to be free he must find someone to see past his ugliness. Days turn to months, Months into years, and years move on to decades finally a young maiden stumbles upon his dilapidated manor. Adam, under protest, allows her entry. He remains secluded in his chambers, refuses to be in her presence. As fate would not be denied he comes across her on the terrace. As he is sure she has not noticed him, he watches her from the shadow. Taking in the sunlight as it dances through her hair. Watching as her petite hand smoothes the coat of the hunters hound laying at her feet. "I hear you behind me. Please, come sit with me for I am bored.""I can not." he says as he moves to leave, toppling a planter in his haste.Startled at the noise the maiden tries to stand, stumbling over the dog.The Prince, with his refined reflexes is able to catch her before she lands.Brushing the tresses from her face, Adam notices her weakness.As gently as possible he places her in the seat once more. "Thank you." She whispered. Touching his sleeve. "You may call me Adam." He removed her hand from his arm being careful not to let his claws tear through his thick gloves. "Are you named after the Prince that lives in this castle?""No, my Lady."She stutters and stammers apologies while she bows her head in the presence of royalty.Adam hasn't felt Royal in a very long time. Adam used to feel angry, now only regret and defeat had settled into his soul."Please, my Lady there is no need for formality. Let us sit and enjoy the sun on our faces, for soon it will be time to retire." Adam looked to the east dreading the coming night."May I ask a favor?""By all means."She swept her hand out in front of herself. "Tell me what I can not see."Looking out over the land he began. "There are trees. A stone path which leads to them. There is grass and flowers."Her smile was wide it warmed him more than the sun. "You are silly. Of course there are trees, but what kind are they? Do they have leaves or needles? Is the long so it sways in the wind or short from the mounts comping on it? Are the flowers wild and free or are they trimmed and pruned? The roses. What color are the roses?"Taken aback he asked. "How did you know there are roses near by?""Can't you smell them dear Prince, they are right over there." She pointed in the exact location where white and red vines intertwined up the trellis and over to cover the atrium roof. The roses were not in bloom, however the buds were but florets. It would not be long until they burst forth in glorious blossoms."Before I go, I will share with you they are twofold in color. Red as rubies and white as snow. They mingle overhead as you meander toward the pond.""There's a pond?" Her tone was sarcastic, but in a delightfully playful manner.The Prince stood. "Yes, there is a pond. If you will meet me tomorrow after you eat I will be honored to escort you there myself."Arabella did not look up. She was disappointed he didn't offer to take her now. "Very well."Adam wanted to offer her his arm, but the Chaplain arrived. They avoided eye contact. Adam because he was ashamed of his monstrous appearance.The Chaplain for fear that gazing upon the Prince would bring evil to his own soul. They had a very precarious relationship.************************And So, everyday after lunch Adam would entertain Arabella.The stroll around the pond.A walk through the gardens.Tea under the shade of the Rose Atrium.Tours of the Tapestries that hung in the Chapel.A carriage ride through the countryside.Reading poetry as rain pelted the windowpanes outside the library.They would sit with fans, creating a breeze to escape the heat.Everyday he kept his distance always in fear she would inadvertently touch him thus learning his secret. All the while, she wished he'd hold her hand or caress her cheek. What would she give to have him whisper a desire in her ear? Just the thought made her shudder. One that he noticed, but misunderstood. He laid a lap piece across her legs. They danced a risky rondelet. One afternoon, as the sky grew dim Adam asked Arabella. "Do you miss your home? Your Family?"With a deep sigh she replied. "I have no family, no home to return to. I was abandoned in the woods by my caretaker, not far from here in fact. It was the baying of your hound that night which drew me here." She smiled sheepishly "I suppose it's why I sneak him scraps from my plate."It dawned on him. The baying sound she heard could not have been the hound. It had been Adam. Howling at despair which the witch had done. If he ever saw her again he would thank her for bringing an angel to him.Clearing his throat Adam proclaimed that she would stay with him. His eternal guest. Arabella thanked him for his generosity and goodwill. However, it wasn't kindness that she craved from the man she'd never seen. It was love.It was a crisp fall day and the couple had decided that they would collect pine cones and colorful leaves that had lost their ability to cling to their trees. Bella, which was what Adam had begun to call her, asked that he cut the tender hanging branches of a white willow tree. She wanted a bundle to weave into a basket.He always obliged her requests.After dinner, he watched as her graceful hands caressed the branches. Coaxing them to bend, to twist, and to fold into the desired shape. Late into the night she declared her project complete. Holding it out for him to see.Adam sat awe struck at the intricate hamper she had interlaced with mer sticks. It was egg shaped, wider at the bottom although the top opening would allow her to dip her hand inside. She had removed the ribbon that bound her hair. Lacing it within the willow strands just beneath the lip at the top. He smiled at the lopsided bow."Are you going to accept it or not?" She asked."Why give it to me?""A token, payment for the company." He couldn't stop himself, although he knew he should not, he made his way to her. Just outside her reach to stooped down. "I should give you gifts for bringing light into a dark and dreary place.""Where is this place?" She quipped."My heart."She reached for him and this time he did not shy from her advance. Although her touch was obscured by the cloak which he wore he leaned into her hand. Only to be interrupted by the clatter of the knocker against the metal plate on the front door. When he left her she felt the air stir from the billow of his coat. She followed him, met by cold air from the night she heard the feeble voice of an elderly woman seeking shelter. "Yes, I can find you lodging." Adam assured her as he pushed the heavy door closed before sliding the bolt into place.*******************Turning around Adam was surprised to find the witch, not the old woman that stood there but a moment ago. Behind her was Arabella, her hand resting on the post that separated the entry from the room he'd just left. "Why have you returned to my home?" He asked the witch. His voice laced with defeat. His mind reeling that this visit would end as all the others since that fateful night. The witch declaring him unworthy."Are you going to rescind your offer of a place to lay my head?""No. It will grow to cold for man or beast this night."Her white hair flowed from around her body much like a separate living thing. Her body grew tall. Her limbs willowed. Her eyes expanded into saucers colored as black as the darkest pitch. Her lips nearly disappeared save for the thin red lines stark against razor sharp teeth. She was both beauty and Horror in her glory. She whispered in the night. "Humble Prince, do you wish for me to lift your burden?" His gaze fell to Lady Arabella. The Witch followed his eyes. He turned to the witch "I beg of you, a wish. For I want nothing for myself." She bows her head low in agreement. "I wish that the maiden, who has shown me; kindness & love, may have the gift of sight. May she gaze upon the world. And see the beauty that I see in her. May she see the beast I truly am." The witch crushes a rose from a nearby vase and blows the dust as she turns into the face of the maiden. Who blinks. Clouds recede from her eyes. The first thing she bore witness to was a Prince. Cloaked from head to toe, hands covered in thick gloves. He pulled back the hood to reveal a face misshapen and covered in fine fur. His nose so long it reminded her to the snout of a hound. Adams teeth were so large his lips could not contain them. He turned his head, fearing her eminent dismissal. She, the woman that loved him, did the opposite. She came to him, forcing him to face her. She looked deep into his swirling gold eyes and embraced him. Sinking her hands into his pelt to search out flesh. Her delicate face rested on his shoulder. He rested his head to hers. Savoring the gentle touch that reached his soul.The white witch began to sway. Gently rocking herself to and fro. Her arms danced toward the sky as they weaved intricate patterns. Her voice so soft it was but a whisper. Bringing with it a mist that settled throughout the room. The maiden strained her ears in order to listen. Her eyes to see. She could not understand the strange language being used. Nor find the witch within the dense fog that had overtaken the room.As the fog settled to the ground, the witch focused on the couple she spoke. "The Prince will only be subject to the fullest moon. He will no longer twist and scream while his body contorts, he will simply step from one form to the other when mother moon casts her first rays in his presence. I can not spare your children from this curse, they will be moon driven like their father. And like their father this is a gift. Not a curse. They will be champions of both man and beast. Two living as one."My Beloved daughter, lowly born princess of the House of Stone. It is said that they, Adam and Arabella, were the originals. The Alpha Pair where all Werewolf Packs came from. 

From Curse to Gift to Burden.