Chapter Text
Belle made her way through the snow, not hesitating as, in her mind, the castle was a better fate than the wolves or Gaston. Snow crunched under her feet as she headed towards the castle, hearing Gaston yell after her.
From what she could see, winter was everywhere, as eternal as the winter in the forest that only disappeared the one day a virgin was offered up to a beast. A deep breath escaped her mouth, knowing if she went back, she would be the next sacrifice, a thought which, in some ways plagued her. There were days she wondered why none of the men, particularly Gaston hunted the beast.
“Don’t ever suggest it, lest they make you of all people go after the beast,” Maurice would say. “And that defeats the purpose of me hiding you, as you are no match for the beast.”
In the same way, despite being a skilled huntress, well read as well, she knew she ’d be no match for the likes of Gaston, who in turn was never sent after the beast making her think him a coward. He certainly wasn’t brain enough to realize his brawn wasn’t enough, so the only other option lay with the nobles choosing to sacrifice their daughters virginity to him, any unwanted pregnancy being brushed off as their daughter being paired with the ideal canidate, rather than what those outside of the village would think—that the daughters weren’t pure any more.
“It’s the whole reason behind the virgin sacrifice, the purity of it all,” Bella thought to herself, heading through the castle, noticing the forlorn look of the castle. There was no life there, but then she saw it—the warmth and life unexpected within the winter domain.
Tilting her head, Bella stepped forward, the sight of green and red drawing her in, taking her into the garden and then the aroma hit her, a smell ever so divine. Pulling her cloak closer, she continued along, enjoying every rose, when—
Her eyes blinked, her head tilting in the other direction at the sight of something she found quite amazing, quite mysterious. Carefully she stepped forward, a hand lifted out of curiosity, her mouth wanting to say something to the being in front of her, yet her brain couldn ’t come up with anything.
…
Belle was, in Gaston’s mind, a fool.
He saw firsthand her tracks heading toward the castle, only for a gust of snow to suddenly cover the tracks as the wolves continued to howl, running in a completely different direction, traveling with the wind.
“What are you going to do?” LeFou asked.
“Belle has nowhere to go,” Gaston said. “She stays there where the beast is frozen, or she returns to the village. But if she’s lucky enough to return?” His mouth twisted into a smirk. “I will take Belle as my wife, a sound punishment for pretending to be a man, to be above her status.” He turned and started walking back. “Come along, LeFou.”
They headed through the snow, eventually arriving back at the village. Gaston headed straight for the pub, where he ordered a hot meed, guzzling it down, while LeFou mulled over his drink. The door opened, and LeFou nudged him. “It’s Maurice!”
Gaston glanced up, twisting to look at the old man, his mouth forming a grin before he walked over. “A drink for my friend here!”
Maurice cringed, looking at Gaston as if he knew the man meant trouble as LeFou hurried over with the three drinks that the barkeep provided. He set them down, the drink sloshing all over the place. “What is the occasion?”
Gaston let out a snort, twisting his mug before downing it. “I’m thinking of finally marrying.”
“I see,” Maurice said, staring at the drink while LeFou continued to sip his drink, observing. “What does that have to do with me?’
“See,” Gaston said, leaning forward. “I know Belle’s secret.” The corner of his mouth twisted up in a wide grin. “And if I reveal that secret, Belle will be the next sacrifice.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Maurice croaked.”
“I ran into Belle in the woods,” Gaston said. “And in the woods, I discovered her secret, but if she manages to return from the castle,” he continued, “Then her only choice is to marry me, to become my bride and produce my progeny, but I imagine her time pretending to be a hunter will make for many an issue from our loins. Do you understand?”
Maurice stood up; the drink was forgotten, his face pale, heading away. Gaston waited for an answer to say that Belle had returned from the castle, yet the gossip was how Maurice quickly fell ill right after their discussion.
…
Prince Adam stared, looking at the young woman with brown hair and brown eyes, taking in how she didn’t act afraid of him, her hand reaching out towards him as if out of curiosity. His head tilted, confused, wondering if her strange appearance, dressing more in line with how he would dress had anything to do with her bravery.
“Oh. Hello.”
He swallowed, then said. “Hello.”
She lowered her hand, looking around the garden. “This is a beautiful garden.”
“The only place winter doesn’t touch,” he said, voice low.
“The rest of the castle is always winter?”
“Always,” he said.
“Are you always alone, here?”
“There are others.”
“That’s nice to know the stories about the beast haven’t resulted in you being alone,” the girl said.
“What story?” he asked.
Her eyes blinked, and then she told him. The story of the beast, of the girls being sacrificed every year on the one day the eternal winter ceased.
Prince Adam ’s eyes opened and closed. “Am I the beast?”
“I should think not,” the girl laughed. “You’re actually quite kind. Not at all like the stories. If the village were to hear…” She then frowned, shaking her head. “If I go back to the village, I’ll be the next sacrifice.”
“Why?”
“Because someone found out my secret. But you need not worry,” the girl said, starting back.
He reached out. “What is this secret?”
She turned her head, looking at him kindly. “I’ve been passing as a girl, my father’s way to make sure I’m not sacrificed.”
“Then stay,” he blurted out. “Don’t be a sacrifice.”
“I don’t,” she frowned. “My father will worry.”
“Your father will…” The idea of a father caring made him pause, and then he said, “Won’t he worry if you go back?”
She frowned. “Yes. That is true.”
“Then stay. At least stay the night. See some more of the castle?”
“One night can’t hurt,” she said, letting out a sigh as he guided her through the castle, while she noticed the strangeness of his servants, neither noticing another pair of eyes on them at certain points. He showed her the library, and many other places, finally guiding her to the place with the rose and magic mirror.
“Is it from the garden?”
“No,” he said. “It’s not something to be touched, a part of my curse. Why I look the way I do, but you need not worry yourself about that. The magic mirror. If you ever want to see your father, you may use it.”
She thought it over, and for a few days she remained content, but then her worry regarding her father grew and he let her look.
It was perhaps a mistake, a feeling of dread for the girl who decided to go back to help her ill father. And in some ways, he craved the bond she had with her father, but in the back of his head while she was there was that memory of the story she told, wondering if it was him and if she would be the next one in that story.