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Chapter Text

The tale of The Beauty and The Beast is a well-known one. A handsome, yet arrogant and self-centered prince is cursed by an enchantress to be stuck in a monstrous form until he learns to love and be loved in return.
But what if?
What if the story was retold anew? If Belle and her Beast had a chance to redo their story?

Chapter Text

“Little town, it’s a quiet village. Every day like the one before. Little town, full of little people. Waking up to say…” Belle hummed.

As the clock tower rung and the village began to awake Belle paused, disoriented. She continued as she had before, her face calm except for her eyes, which displayed her inner turmoil and confusion.

“Bonjour!” “Bonjour!” “Bonjour, bonjour, bonjour!” The townspeople greeted each other; opening their windows and doors for the day.

As she walked her normal route through the market, Belle’s confusion grew greater. As she bought the routine loaf of bread from the baker (forgetting that since moving into the castle, there was no need to buy food daily as she once had) she pondered if what she thought were memories of magic and princes were dreams or fantasies brought on by her reading.

“Every morning just the same as the morning that we came to this poor provincial town.” Belle continued singing lowly as she stuffed the loaf into her apron pocket and pulled out an apple to feed one of Villeneuve’s many horses.

“Good morning, Belle!” she heard nearby. She turned and saw Mr. Jean Potts, the village potter smiling at her in greeting. “Good Morning, Monsieur Jean! Have you lost something again?” She questioned. “Well,” he replied. “I believe I have. The problem is, I can’t remember what.” “Why don’t you ask Missus Potts or Chip? I’m sure they might know.” Belle suggested. “Who?” asked the potter, utterly confused.

Belle felt even more unsure of her memories and feelings. This must be proof that the castle and its inhabitants were a mere fantasy, she thought sadly.

“Well, I’m sure it will come to me eventually.” Mr. Potts continued. “Where are you off to today?” “Père Robert’s. I want to return the book I borrowed. It’s about two lovers in fair Verona.” “Sounds boring.” She heard him mutter as she walked on.

She hopped over the stream’s stepping stones and past the women and girls doing laundry. She dimly noticed them gossiping about her. It was the normal complaints about her and she hummed them distractedly to the tune she had in her mind; “Never part of any crowd. ‘Cause her head’s up on some cloud. No denying she’s a funny girl, that Belle…”

As she walked past, the villagers had their normal conversations as they went along with their normal chores. “Bonjour.” ”Good day.” “How is your family?” “Bonjour.” “Good day.” “How is your wife?” “I need six eggs.” exclaimed Clotilde. “That’s too expensive!”

“There must be more than this provincial life!” sang Belle, thinking of her fantasy memories. She entered the back of the church, greeting Père Robert. “Where did you run off to this time?” Père Robert asked jovially. “Two cities in Northern Italy. I didn’t want to come back.” Belle replied jokingly, remembering the fantasy enchanted book belonging to her beloved Adam. “Have you got any new places to go?” She inquired, returning to the real world. “Unfortunately not, but you may borrow any of the old ones.” “Your library makes our small corner of the world feel big.” Thanked Belle as she turned to leave. “Bon voyage!” Père Robert said in farewell.

As she walked home, Belle once again felt stares upon herself. However, this time it was not only questioning or envious villagers, but also the lecherous gaze of men. Once more Belle began to read her favorite book and she sang to herself. “Oh… isn’t this amazing? It’s my favorite part because – you’ll see. Here’s where she meets Prince Charming. But she won’t discover that it’s him ‘til chapter three.”

*Scene Change*

Two men ride on horseback towards Villeneuve. The taller of the two, Captain Gaston pulled out a spyglass and looked lecherously upon Belle while she was walked through the village. As he handed the spyglass over to his compact companion, Monsieur Le Fou, he commented: “Look at her Le Fou. My future wife. Belle is the most beautiful girl in the village. That makes her the best.” Looking through the spyglass, Gaston’s loyal sidekick hesitantly answered Gaston’s bold declaration; “But she’s so well read. And you’re so… athletically inclined.” “I know. Belle can be as argumentative as she is beautiful.” “Exactly!” exclaimed Le Fou. “Who needs her when you have us?” “Yes,” sighed Gaston, “But ever since the war, I’ve felt like I’ve been missing something. And she’s the only girl who gives me that sense of…” Gaston trailed off. “Je ne se quoi?” Finished Le Fou. “I don’t know what that means.” Answered Gaston as he continued his way into Villeneuve. Le Fou didn’t immediately follow, instead first turning around in his saddle and searching the horizon over the forest, seemingly expectant on viewing something that wasn’t there and being confused when he didn’t see it. Then, he turned back around, and gazing both sadly and pityingly at Gaston’s advancing form; he nudged his horse into moving and followed his Captain back to the village they called home.

“Right from the moment that I met her, saw her, I said “‘She’s gorgeous’” and I fell,” explained Gaston to his companion as Le Fou caught up. “Here in town there’s only she, who’s as beautiful as me. So, I’m making plans to woo and marry Belle.” Le Fou gazed exasperatedly at Gaston and discretely rolled his eyes. Nearly everyone in the village knew Belle’s opinion on the idea of marrying Gaston. Le Fou knew that she would rather die than marry Gaston, and though Gaston was his closest friend, Le Fou had come to understand why.

Le Fou could hear some of the local girls swooning and twittering over Gaston as they passed and groaned. Though he had once been in love with his friend – like the silly girls – Le Fou had realized the truth about his friend and pitied anyone Gaston set his sights on. If they only knew the ugly flaws hidden beneath the Captain’s good looks and charm, the twits most likely would think twice before flirting with the village hunter. He followed Gaston as the hunter rushed through the market, grabbing flowers to present Belle as he chased her down. “Just watch, I’m going to make Belle my wife!” declared Gaston.

Belle groaned inwardly as she heard Gaston’s booming voice. Knowing she should be polite, she turned, greeting the arrogant man when he came close. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed loyal Le Fou. When she glanced once more at the stout man, she was inwardly shocked to see him mouthing “sorry” at her behind Gaston’s back. Realizing she should pay attention to Gaston, she flashed a small smile at Le Fou, and focused on Gaston. “Wonderful book you have there.” The burly man commented. “Have you read it?” Belle disbelievingly asked. “Oh, well… not that one, but you know… books.” Gaston laughed awkwardly. Belle didn’t think that Gaston had ever read a book in his life. She wasn’t sure if he even knew how to read. Belle was startled when he suddenly produced a bouquet of flowers, proclaiming “For your dinner table. Shall I join you this evening?” Belle scrambled to find an acceptable excuse. “Sorry.” She thought frantically, “Not this evening.” “Busy?” inquired Gaston, doing his utmost to charm her into changing her mind. “Yes,” she said slowly. “I must help my father pack his pieces and accompany him to the fair.” She turned and seizing the opportunity, walked away, rolling his eyes at the audacity of the man. Imagine; trying to invite yourself to supper!

“So!” stated Le Fou, walking up to a dejected Gaston. “Moving on?” “No, Le Fou. It’s the ones who play hard to get that make the sweetest prey” the hunter growled. “That’s what makes Belle so appealing. She hasn’t made a fool of herself just to gain my favor.” Gaston paused. “What would you call that?” Le Fou replied drolly “Dignity.” Gaston about faced. “It’s outrageously attractive, isn’t it?” Gaston wandered off, leaving Le Fou to his own devices.