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Chapter Text

Maurice hugged his daughter. It was going to be a while before he saw her again, the fair in the city was a couple days' ride away, and lasted a full week. He checked that his wood chopping machine was securely attached and covered. He mounted Phillipe and turned to face Belle.

“Goodbye, Papa! Good luck!” Belle waved to him as he started off down the lane. 

“Goodbye, Belle, and take care while I’m gone!” He waved back at his daughter as he went on his way. 

Maurice and Phillipe were well outside of town by early afternoon, the golden fields of grain gradually turning into sparse woodland, then into a denser forest. A couple miles into the forest they approached a split in the path, and Maurice slowed them to a halt to consult his map. 

“How odd, this fork isn’t on the map.” He squinted at the signpost, it was no longer legible from what looked to be decades of neglect, so that was no help. He compared the two roads, the left was well traveled and maintained, and the right… well, it didn’t look like much of a road at all. It looked like a forgotten hunting trail, overgrown to the point it was almost impassable. It was obvious which way he should go, and Phillipe seemed to agree, heading that way without Maurice even directing him to do so. 

“Out of the way old man!” Maurice was startled by one of the men from town rushing past on a horse.

“Watch where you’re going!” Maurice shook his fist at the man recklessly riding past, and was suddenly thrown off Philippe, who was startled by several more men rushing past on horseback. He groaned as he pulled himself off the ground, luckily he wasn’t hurt, nothing worse than a bruise anyway, but his horse, cart and all, was going as fast as he could back towards town. “What is the meaning of this?” He turned to the one man that had slowed down when he was thrown, It was LeFou, that short lackey of Gaston, on his small gray mare, staring nervously down at him. 

“Uh, sorry Maurice, Gaston is getting married to– well, he’s getting married and we need to get supplies for the ceremony.” 

“What’s the rush? I’m sure it can wait long enough that you don’t have to run over an innocent old man in the woods!” LeFou looked sheepish, but impatient, “Surely one of you could give me a ride back into town?”

“I’m really sorry but we need this wedding to happen as soon as possible,” He looked around hurriedly, pointing to a small path Maurice hadn’t noticed before, “if you take that trail it will take you to the edge of town, by the apple orchards, and no one rides through there so you shouldn’t have any more trouble.” 

“How long will that take?” He turned to look at the narrow path but turned back quickly when he heard LeFou taking off on his horse again. “Wait! Where are you going?” Too late. LeFou was already around the bend and out of sight. “I guess I’ll start heading back then.” Maurice sighed and started on his way, not even realizing that he had lost his hat.

~~~

“Can you believe the nerve of that– that brute?!” Belle was angrily tossing feed out for the chickens, she could finally get started on her afternoon chores, now that the impromptu wedding party had finally cleared out. It really was just like Gaston, to wait for her father to leave town so he wouldn’t be around to protest his only daughter from being married against her will. He was such a conniving bastard! She sighed as she finished up with her chores, she had fended him off for now, he wasn’t likely to give up that easily, but hopefully it would at least be awhile before he made another attempt at having her as his “little wife”. 

“He doesn’t care who I am! He only cares that I’m pretty and that I don’t want him.” She walked up the hill behind the house, sitting down in the shade of the large oak there, enjoying the lovely orange and yellow hues the leaves were adopting. She wondered if she would ever meet someone that understood her desire to live, to want more than what her simple life had granted her. 

“Not in this town, that’s for certain.” Everyone here was too stuck in their routines, too busy with the mundanity of life to hope for more. She’d probably live a boring life, and die a boring death. She hoped her father’s invention would secure a path out of this town, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud whinny. Belle stood up and looked towards the house, was that? She ran back down the hill, towards a nervous Phillipe. She looked him over, thankfully he was uninjured, but he looked exhausted, his copper sides were heaving, glistening with sweat, his coat foamy around his collar and his saddle. She unhitched the cart and examined the contents, the wood chopping machine was still wrapped tightly in it’s canvas tarp, but there was no sign of her father. 

“Phillipe! What are you doing here? Where's Papa? Where is he, Phillipe? What happened? Oh, we have to find him, you have to take me to him!” Phillipe’s only response was to rub his huge face on her, “Well, I’ll let you rest for a moment.” She scratched him behind his ears and headed inside to grab her cloak.

~~~

She rode Phillipe down the road that her father must have taken to head to the city, although the late afternoon sun was still fairly bright, it’s rays shining cheerfully through the autumn trees, she saw no sign of her father. Although if she was being honest, Belle had no idea what counted as a sign of her father, all she saw was a dusty country road, and too many cart tracks and hoof prints to make sense of at all. She wasn’t much of an outdoors person, preferring to spend time indoors with a good book, including books on survival skills. However Belle was finding that reading about tracking was a lot different than actually doing it, and she wondered how to find her father. 

She kept down the main road, searching for anything that could explain the disappearance of her father. She eventually found something that caught her interest, a split in the road, with the path on the right seeming poorly maintained, a dilapidated sign standing between the two directions. It didn’t look very inviting, but it reminded her of something about her father; his tendency to attempt shortcuts, even if they seemed like more trouble than they were worth. He hated traveling and always wanted to try and find a faster way to his destination, and he did so quiet recklessly. Belle grimaced, this path didn’t look like anyone had traveled it in ages, but it would be just like her father to try a “shortcut”, and besides, did she know what it would look like if he had used this path? She glanced around, unsure of what to do next, when she spotted something, her father's hat, caught in the brambles at the edge of the road. He had made it this far at least, slightly more certain of herself, she rode a very reluctant Phillipe down the narrow path, going slowly so the large horse could pick his way through the overgrown brush.

In time she came upon a huge intricate iron gate set in a stone wall. The wall seemed to go in both directions for quite a distance, and the road ended at the gate. Maybe her father found shelter with whatever people lived here? It looked as if it rained quite a bit in these woods, and she hadn’t seen any trace of him anywhere besides his hat. She had no idea how to tell if he had come this way or not but, either way she wanted to get out of the cold autumn evening. Belle dismounted Phillipe and opened the large iron gate. She pushed it open wide enough so she could then lead Phillipe onto the stone bridge, and as she glanced up her breath caught as she took in the massive castle, with its imposing gargoyles and impossibly tall towers. She didn’t remember there being a castle this close to her village, although she had never been this far into the woods, so she supposed it wasn’t that unusual that she didn’t know about it. And besides, her and her father had only moved out to the countryside last year. 

She led Phillipe along the stone bridge towards the foreboding structure, hesitating only for a moment when she realized that all the windows were dark, despite the setting sun. She set her jaw and continued on, even if the castle was uninhabited, her father might have sought shelter inside, and she would do the same. She dropped the lead and left Phillipe to wait outside, grazing in the courtyard as she climbed the steps to the tall double wooden doors. She knocked, and one of the huge doors swung open just enough to let her inside. When she hesitantly stepped over the threshold she glanced behind the open door instinctively, and she felt her blood run cold when there was no one there. 

“Hello?” Belle called out into the huge dark space of what looked to be a huge foyer, it was grand, but it felt as if no one had lived here for quite some time. It wasn’t dirty and dusty, just devoid of life. She took a few steps down the long scarlet carpet that led towards a massive staircase, shivering a little as she did so. She paused, wondering what to do next, scanning the stairs, doors, and archways that led to unknown places. If her father was somewhere in this huge, apparently abandoned castle, she wasn’t sure where to start looking. She chose a direction at random and started walking, figuring that she had to start somewhere. 

Belle slowed her pace almost immediately, hearing something behind her, but when she turned to look, all she saw was a marble table with a mantle clock, and a lit candelabra? The hair on her neck prickled, she swore that there hadn't been any light at all when she entered. She shook her head and started walking faster, sure she must be seeing things. 

“She could be–” 

“You have no reason–”

Belle whipped back around, breathing quickly. There was someone, no two someones in the room with her. She walked cautiously over to the table, looking around and seeing absolutely no one. Maybe carrying a light would help her move more steadily in the gloom, and hopefully help her see anyone that might be hiding from her in the shadows. As she picked up the candelabra she heard someone say something under their breath. 

“H- hello?” She lifted the candelabra higher to illuminate the room a bit more, her eyes darting from shadow to shadow, “Is anyone here? I’m looking for my father!” 

“You are certainly welcome to stay while you search, mademoiselle!” 

“Who– where are you?” Belle turned about, searching for the speaker, startling when she felt a gentle tap on her head. She looked up and looked at the candelabra, which was making eye contact with her.

“Hello.” In shock she let go of the living candlestick, sending it clattering to the floor, the candles going out. “Aie.” She stumbled backwards, falling on her ass in an attempt to distrance herself from the offending object.

“Now look at what you’ve done! You are going to give the poor girl a heart attack, and scratch your lacquer while you’re at it! Heaven knows we don’t need help looking any shabbier.” Belle stared in open mouthed disbelief as the mantle clock hopped off the table to point it’s handle accusingly at the candelabra, which was now pulling itself upright.

She pointed shakily at the two objects,“Y-you’re moving and talking… are you, enchanted? Haunted?” The two objects shared a glance with each other, looking as if they were deciding if they were going to tell her something or not.

“Ah, it is a long story miss, much too long to tell you this instant.” The clock teetered forward towards Belle, bowing politely, “I am Cogsworth, majordomo of this castle, may I ask what brings you to our humble abode this fine evening?” 

“Hello, I’m Belle." She hesitantly got to her feet, feeling a bit foolish introducing herself to a clock,"I’m, um, looking for my father, he left earlier in the day from our village, he was headed to the city for the fair,” She twisted her hands together, and her face crumpled, “but our horse returned to the house without him, I’m worried he got lost somewhere in the woods, I had hoped he sought shelter here. I can’t bear the thought of him getting soaked in the rain.” 

“Unfortunately, we have not seen anyone besides you entering the castle.” The candelabra looked apologetic, but then beamed, his flames brightening, “We can of course let you stay here while you search for your father!” 

Cogsworth snapped his face to look at him, "The master would never allow it!” He looked nervously up at Belle and muttered,”We aren’t even sure she’s the one.” 

Belle wasn't sure what he had meant by that last part, but perked up slightly at the idea of speaking to whoever was in charge, “Let me speak to your master! Maybe he can help me look for my father, or knows where to look around here!” 

Cogsworth tensed up, “I’m not sure that is a–” 

“That is an excellent idea! And perhaps ,you can stay for dinner?” Lumiere made a sweeping bow, bonking Cogsworth in the face with his outstretched candle, “I am Lumiere! The finest maître'd in France, and I would be honored to introduce you to our master!” 

Lumiere started to lead Belle through the dim hall, while Cogsworth tottered behind them, sputtering about rules and no guests being allowed in the castle. Belle glanced around, more curious than nervous now, as she followed the live candlestick, admiring the dusty but otherwise well kept castle. There was stunning artwork covering the walls, and scores of suits of armor that turned their heads creakily as she passed. She had always thought that she would love to be in the place of the heroines in her books, that encountered enchanted castles, and mysterious magic, but other than the initial astonishment at speaking to household objects, it was rather unsettling. Was there really no regular people here? Maybe the master of the house was a strange old magician, one that found talking furniture amusing, or maybe he was a forgotten member of royalty, banished because of his strange ways and morbid collection of magical objects. She shook her head and sighed, here she was actually living what could be the plot of her very own fairytale and she was still daydreaming. She was here to look for her father, and although she was excited for the possibility of an adventure, she had her priorities. 

"After you, mademoiselle," Lumiere ushered Belle into a cozy looking sitting room, "Please, take a seat and we will fetch the master shortly."

"We?" Cogsworth scowled at him, having just entered the room behind Belle, "I suppose you expect me to clean up your mess, hm? Do you really think he will come easily? What are we supposed to tell him?" 

"Do not mind Cogsworth, he just isn't used to such beautiful company." Lumiere winked at her as he pulled the clock out of the room and shut the door, the sounds of them bickering with each other slowly fading down the hallway. 

Belle chose a large overstuffed chair near the fire, and sat down, rubbing her arms to try and warm herself. This room was pleasant, not nearly as imposing as much of the castle she had seen so far, it almost felt out of place, like someone else had decorated this single room. She gazed into the fire, trying not to imagine everything that could currently be going wrong for her father, when the door opened again, revealing another strange inhabitant of the castle.

"Can I interest you in a spot of tea, miss?" A cart rolled over beside her chair, topped with a lovely white and lilac tea set, the steaming pot the one who had spoken to her. She was beginning to get used to the idea of living furniture, strange as it seemed, and at least so far every being she had met had been kind, even when less than thrilled about her arrival, as it had been with the grumpy clock.

"Oh, yes please, thank you." Relieved, Belle took the cup that the teapot poured for her and was surprised to see a sweet little face shyly smiling at her, "Oh, hello!"

"My name is Chip!" the little teacup smiled at her, and she saw that yes, he had a chip in his rim, nothing too bad though. She couldn't help but smile back at the tiny thing when he snuggled up in her hands as she warmed them on his delicate porcelain.

"Oh, hush little one, let the poor woman fortify herself, her father is missing."

"You've heard?" Belle turned to look at the teapot hopefully, eager to hear anything she had to offer.

"Nothing goes on in this castle without Mrs. Potts knowing about it dear," She smiled at Belle reassuringly, Belle felt calmer around Mrs. Pott's motherly personality, she felt better knowing such a kind soul was watching over her, if only for the moment.

"Have you heard anything about my father?" She asked as she blew on her tea, making Chip giggle.

"I haven't," Mrs. Potts frowned and looked at her with pity, though not unkindly, "Hopefully the master will come to his senses and help you find him, although if you are going to meet him, you'll need to brace yourself, please drink."

She drank a good bit of her tea, grateful for it's warmth after the cold and damp of the unnaturally dark woods. She hoped that if her father was out there, that he had at least found somewhere safe to rest.

Belle started when she heard a distant crashing sound from somewhere deeper in the castle, not seeing Mrs. Pott's cringe as she set Chip down beside her on the tea cart. She stood, thinking maybe there was something going on that she could help with, and headed towards the door. 

"I wouldn't go out there if I were you." Belle hesitated and turned to look questioningly at Mrs Potts, who had rolled her cart halfway across the room towards her, looking stern, "The master… is a bit out of practice when it comes to having guests," she furrowed her painted on brows, "Finish your tea and I'll sort this out, dearie. Nothing for you to worry about." 

"Alright." Belle reluctantly picked Chip back up and watched as Mrs. Potts rolled out the door that opened itself up for her. 

"Don't worry miss, Mama knows how to fix everything." Belle looked down at Chip who was trying his best to look reassuring. 

"You mother seems like a very capable lady," she smiled and raised him up to eye level, "My name is Belle, and I am glad we met, Chip." She walked back over the plush chair and sat down, setting Chip on the small side table, sighing, "I think I may be a bit too excited for tea just now."

"What are you excited about?" Chip hopped a bit closer to her, sloshing the cooling tea as he did. 

"Oh, I just mean my stomach is in knots, I'm worried about my father, and I guess I'm a bit nervous about meeting your master." She frowned, propped her elbow on the chair's arm and leaned her head onto her hand, "I mean, this place is a bit, well, unusual."

Chip tilted his little face, thinking about this, "I guess that makes sense, I don't really remember what it was like before." He looked back up at her, "The master is kinda scary, but my mama says he's just sad and doesn't know it." 

Belle considered this, she of course didn't know the circumstances of the master's state of mind, but she knew what it was like to be so sad that you were angry. It's how she felt when her mother died, it changed into other things as the time grew, but she understood. She hadn't really thought of that time in her life for several years, and felt sad at the idea that someone couldn't get past that awful stage of grief.

~~~ 

Belle followed Lumiere down the hall, anxious about finally speaking with the master of the castle. She had been talking with Chip for a while, hearing all about what it was like to live in a big old castle, and about all his brothers and sisters, all of them tea cups, when Lumiere and Cogsworth had returned to fetch her. 

"The Master has decided to speak with you over dinner, Miss Belle. Lumiere will show you the way to the dining hall." 

She worried briefly if she had to worry about any specific manners at dinner, in some of the books she read that always seemed to be an issue that came up for heroines in mysterious castles. None of the

servants had said anything about it to her, so she tried to put it out of her mind. If she was reading between the lines correctly, it didn't seem like the Master was necessarily the type of man that worried about pleasantries.

She was pulled from her thoughts when Lumiere paused in front of a large double door. "Here we are, ma chérie," He hesitated and bit his lip, his flame flickering a bit, "I do want to ah, warn you first."

"Warn me? I know that your Master has quite the temper, Chip told me about that."

"That is… only part of it, I'm afraid." He winced and held his two candles together like he was clasping his hands, a small bit of wax dripping onto the wooden floor, "the Master can be, a bit, well, intimidating to meet. His appearance is…"

Belle shook her head, not understanding what he was getting at, "Do you mean he's a piece of furniture like the rest of you? I'm still a bit surprised by that, but I don't think it would bother me at this point."

Lumiere laughed nervously, "No, no, not furniture, he was, ah, affected, differently than the rest of us." He paused, seemed to come to a decision, and stood up straighter, gesturing with his candles as he spoke, "It's a bit difficult to describe, but I wanted to prepare you, he is a bit, well, startling." He cracked open the door and gestured to Belle, "I will lead you to your seat, mademoiselle."

She entered in behind him, catching her breath at the sight of the room, the longest table she had ever seen in her life, lined with countless chairs, a huge marble fireplace lit with a cheerful blaze, over which hung an enormous painting of a woman in a beautiful garden. And the chandelier, it wasn't lit at the moment, but the light of the fire caught on the hundreds of crystals that dangled from its golden structure. As she was examining the intricate light fixture, her eyes caught movement in the darkness at the far end of the table.

Belle lowered her gaze and squinted at the shadowy form, trying to make sense of the hulking shape that now sat rigidly, as if caught in her stare.

"Master," Lumiere bowed towards the mysterious shadow and gestured at her, "I am pleased to introduce mademoiselle Belle, she would be very grateful for your aid in the search for her missing father."

Belle looked towards Lumiere at the emphasis in his words, but he didn't meet her gaze. She instead turned back to the shadow, the master. Now that she was paying attention, she noticed how large the shadow was, hulking, and taller than any man ought to be while seated. She shifted on her feet, unable to look elsewhere.

"Belle says her father's horse showed up at their cottage without him, and that he wasn't anywhere along the main road!" Lumiere pulled out a chair, and used it to hop up onto the table, he gestured his candle at the chair, and, still not looking at Belle, "Your seat, mademoiselle."

She stood where she was, having barely heard Lumiere address her, her eyes still riveted onto the dark form at the far end of the long table. What was that? Was that the master of this castle?

"I'm sure we could get together a small search party of some of the more capable servants, and we could find her father in no time!" He grinned, putting his candles up in a triumphant gesture, and in the slightly brighter light, Belle saw the glint of huge teeth set into a grimace, and eyes that reflected like an animal's.

For a moment she couldn't breathe, and without thinking, took a step backwards. The eyes disappeared as the huge form turned away from her, "Where is our dinner? Are you going to just stand there talking, or are you going to do your job!?" The gruff voice that rumbled out of the master made her jump, and maybe it was Belle's imagination, but it also sounded a tad embarrassed, albeit mostly impatient.

Immediately chastened, Lumiere stood straight and nodded to his master, "I will make sure it is out at once, monsieur." He quickly hopped off the table and headed out another door, the room dimming as he left. She hadn't realized how much he had been illuminating, but now that he was gone, she was aware that the fireplace barely lit the huge space.

"Will you sit down?" She started again, having almost forgotten about her present company. She reluctantly sat in the chair that had been pulled out for her and looked down at her hands, her eyes adjusting to the darkness slowly. She looked back up at the chandelier that had first caught her attention when she entered the room. Without Lumiere's light the glittering was much more subtle, but no less beautiful. She found herself wondering how none of the townspeople ever mentioned that there was such a grand castle so close by, her and her father were new to town, and yes, considered odd by most, but surely someone would have brought it up? She shivered, realizing they probably didn't know either, if the path that led up to the castle was any indication. She felt her blood run cold as she thought to herself, the path looked as if no one had used it in years. That included her father. All the she had found was his hat, and that didn't mean anything.

"Why are you here?" She came out of her thoughts and the Master had turned to face her again, and now she could faintly make out more of him, horns, fur and of course, the intense eyes that captured her gaze even from how far they sat from each other. He was a beast, it wasn't a polite word, but that's the only way she could have described him.

She swallowed, "I'm… looking for my father?" She hesitated, not sure if he had actually missed Lumiere saying the same thing. "I thought he may have sought shelter in your castle, but, I must have been mistaken." Her shoulders slumped, saying it out loud made her mistake feel real, made her feel like a fool. She lowered her face again, wringing her hands, unsure of how to continue.

"Well what do you expect me to do about it?" She raised her head to meet his gaze, momentarily more stunned than afraid, had he really just asked that?

"I'm asking for help in finding him, and if he's not here he could be lost in the woods, and now in the dark!" She closed her eyes and took a breath, she needed to stay calm, getting upset wasn't going to get her anywhere. "All I am asking for is a place to stay, temporarily, while I search nearby."

"I don't see why that's my problem, you trespass onto my property and you want me to grant you hospitality?" The contempt in his voice was palpable.

She was stunned by his speech, and no longer afraid, in fact, she was getting rather angry herself. "Are you always this hostile to visitors?" She said it without thinking, and his snarl immediately made her wish she hadn't.

"For your information," He stood up, making Belle cower in her chair, "I do not recieve visitors. Nor do I want any!"

The door Lumiere had exited earlier opened, revealing a procession of serving carts, the candelabra himself smiling awkwardly as he waved in the carts, from a side table. The beast sat down, a bit sheepishly, which struck Belle as odd. Why would the master act like a child caught at misbehaving?

"Dinner tonight is starting with an appetizer of delicious gougères, followed by the main course of a delightful bouillabaisse, and for dessert, a tarte tatin." The maître'd hesitated, and continued, "Bon appetit. Please call for me if you need assistance in any way." He bowed and was out of the room as quickly as he had come in.

Belle accepted some of the small pastries from a dish that approached her, taking a bite and sighing with delight. They were filled with a rich beef and mushroom stuffing, and she realized that she hadn't eaten since before Gaston's impromptu proposal. She had forgotten about that completely in the panic about her father.

If that jerk hadn't pulled that stunt today, she might've asked him for help actually. As much as she hated to admit it, he was the best woodsman in the village and he would have helped her look for her father. Sure he would have been insufferable the entire time, but he would have been better equipped at navigating the woods than she. She furrowed her eyebrows, it was too late to ask him now, and there was no sense dwelling on could haves. She needed to figure out how to convince the beastly master of this castle to aide her in the search.

She looked deliberately down the table at him, forcing him to meet her gaze in between his huge bites of savory stuffed pastry. He glowered at her, "What are you looking at?"

Ignoring the question, she said, "I'm wondering why you would bother to invite me to dinner if you aren't going to help me?" She was being rather forward, but delicacy didn't seem like it was going to have much of an effect here.

"It's the polite thing to do." He ground the words out through his teeth, making it obvious that he had no desire to appear polite, and in a quieter voice, "it was my housekeeper's idea."

Mrs. Potts flashed into Belle's mind, she has said she'd sort things out. Aha. He didn't invite her to dinner of his own volition. But what sway did his own servant have over him? He didn't seem like the type to listen to anyone.

"You didn't have to invite me, you could have turned me away." The beast flinched at that, but she continued, "I don't understand what you have to gain from my being here?"

"And I don't understand why you are being so nosy!" He threw his huge arms into the air, "I don't see how any of this is your business!"

Her face grew hot and she gestured angrily at him, "It's only my business because no one in this castle is being honest with me! There is clearly something going on that involves me somehow, and all of you are hiding it from me!"

He stood up again, his chair clattering to the floor behind him, "You want honesty? I think your father is dead! There are wolves in these woods and an old man stupid enough to get lost in them at night wouldn't stand a chance in hell!"

Belle's hands shook with rage, how dare he suggest the idea, she didn't even want to stay in his stupid castle anymore, no matter her curiosity at the strange things were going on here. Not if he was going to treat her like this.

"Fine. I'll finish my dinner and then I'll leave. It won't be your problem anymore." She was a little unnerved at how cold her voice came out, but she didn't really care. She took a bowl of stew and started eating, it was delicious, but she hardly tasted it. She couldn't believe anyone could be so selfish. Even Gaston seemed to care about others more than this beast. How fitting, that he was one, an appearance to match his attitude.

She sipped from her spoon, and cleared her throat. She was having trouble swallowing, and she suddenly felt like something was wrong. She set her spoon down and pushed her bowl away from her. The room was beginning to spin around her and she grabbed onto the edge of the table, her breath now coming in wheezes. What was happening? Was it something she had eaten? Her eyes widened, remembering how her father had told her about the time her mother nearly died when they visited the coast before Belle had been born. What was it that her mother had eaten? It had been something that wasn't available where they had lived, otherwise she would have avoided it. She looked up at her abandoned dinner through blurry eyes. Shellfish.

Chapter Text

Gaston felt like shit. Total and utter shit. He had bathed and changed out of his muddy clothes, his finest outfit ruined, but the smear on his ego wasn't so easily washed away. He stared into the fire from his large chair, wondering if maybe this was it, if his reputation was as shattered as he thought it was.

LeFou came up beside him carrying two pints of beer, "You've been sulking all night," He offered the beer to Gaston, "some of this will cheer you right up!"

"What for? Nothing helps. I'm disgraced." He took both pints from LeFou and threw the into the fire, the crash and alcohol fueled fire turning a few heads from the bar.

LeFou frowned at his empty hands, and then turned to him, "Seriously?", he raised his eyebrows in surprise, "You really think a little problem like this is all it takes to bring you down?" Gaston ignored him, replaying the way he fell into the mud again, remembering how everyone had seen him, his best white trousers soaked through with mud and pig shit.

"Gaston, do you realize that every idiot in this tavern would kill to be you? Including with what happened today?" The way that Belle had looked at him before sending him sprawling out the door, was it pity?

"Fellas! Aren't I right? Don't we all admire him? An inspiration, the absolute pinnacle of manhood!" Gaston glanced up, his brows furrowing, watching as LeFou spoke and pranced about the room joyfully, finally noticing that the way everyone was looking at him wasn't with contempt or disgust, it was adoration.

"You are single-handedly the strongest and most talented one here." he glanced around at the other men, all nodding and sharing knowing glances, "And let's be honest," LeFou smiled, his face shining, "definitely the most attractive guy in town!" He raised someone's pint and everyone cheered, filling the warm tavern with the reassuring sounds of admiration. Gaston had to crack a bit of a smile at the display, everything LeFou said was true after all, and really, was Belle actually capable of being the one to bring him down?

He lounged in his chair, feeling more like himself. Sure, the rejection earlier this afternoon still stung, but being reminded of how amazing he was in everyone's eyes was a relief. He nodded to LeFou when the smaller man held up a pint in question towards him. He made his way over to Gaston, bringing along a chair and pint for himself.

"You know," LeFou said, handing Gaston his beer and sitting down beside him, "it's been a while since you had a real challenge."

Gaston's smile faded and he raised an eyebrow, "What's that supposed to mean?"

LeFou smiled nervously and held up his free hand, "I didn't mean anything by it," he hesitated, finding the right words, "I'm just saying that since you are so talented at everything that you do, nothing is hard for you."

Gaston drank and though about this, it was true. It had been years since he had struggled with anything. He lowered his pint and wiped his mouth, turning his attention back to LeFou, "What are you suggesting then?"

"I think that Belle could be, persuaded, to accept your proposal. It might take some time of course," he took a swig of his beer and grinned, "but I know you love the chase."

Gaston nodded, his smile returning. LeFou was right, he didn't just love the chase, he actually missed it. Sure it was nice when everything just fell into place, but what fun was that? Isn't that what had made Belle attractive in the first place? The fact that she didn't throw herself at him like the other women?

"This is why I keep you around LeFou, you remind me of what makes me great." He smirked at his lackey and downed the rest of his beer, not failing to notice the slight blush that crept onto the smaller man's face. People were easier to control when they were infatuated with you, that was just a fact, and Gaston had no qualms about using that to his advantage.

"I can help you brainstorm some ideas! Maybe we could—" LeFou was interrupted by a commotion at the front of the tavern. Someone was had burst in and was trying to get anyone's attention. Gaston craned his neck, trying to get a look at who it was. He furrowed his eyebrows, it was Maurice, Belle's eccentric old father. What was he doing here?

"Please won't someone help me?" Maurice went from table to table, but most of the regulars were avoiding his eyes, not willing to engage with crackpots. "I can't do this alone! I can't find her, my daughter is missing!"

Gaston's ears perked up at that, it was almost serendipitous, how an opportunity to secure Belle as his wife had arisen so soon after LeFou's suggestion. He turned to the smaller man, and he knew by the look in his eyes that he was thinking the same thing.

"Bring him over here, let's have a chat with the old fool." LeFou hopped up from his chair and gave him a lazy salute. He waded into the crowd towards Maurice and disappeared momentarily. Gaston sat back in his chair, this was almost too easy.

After several minutes, LeFou returned with the old man, and Gaston couldn't help but recoil at how haggard he looked, his clothes were damp and his face sagged. He sat down wearily in LeFou's chair, and when the small man started to object, Gaston cut him off with a look. As odd as Maurice was, he was Belle's father, and had the authority to refuse any marriage proposals on her behalf.

"LeFou said you wanted to speak with me?" Maurice looked dejected, there hadn't been a single other person in the entire tavern that had even bothered to listen to him. Perfect. Gaston would be seen as an upstanding and selfless individual, not that he wasn't, of course, but this would be instrumental in gaining the trust of Belle's father. And then how could she say no to him then?

"I couldn't help hearing about your daughter, I must confess that I am very concerned about her safety." He paused for effect, pretending to compose himself, "I hope you'll let me aide you in the search for her, she must be terrified!" Gaston eyed Maurice, gauging his performance based on the old man's expression. He looked startled, then hopeful. Good.

"Thank heavens, you don't how grateful I am for you to—"

"Of course!" Gaston flashed him a grin, and then sobered, "Tell me everything."

"Well, uh, I was supposed to head to the city today, but my horse was startled by some reckless men and threw me and ran off. Usually he runs right home when he's frightened, but he wasn't there." He paused, lost in thought for a moment. Gaston glanced at LeFou and raised a questioning brow at his expression. LeFou grimaced and shook his head. Strange, but he could deal with that later. Maurice continued, "But my cart was at the house… oh lord." He drooped, looking like he was going to faint.

"What is it?" Gaston reached out and steadied him, growing a bit impatient but resisting the urge to shake the old man.

"I think, she must have gone looking for me when Phillipe came home without me." He looked as if his heart was breaking, realizing he was the reason his daughter was now missing. Gaston tensed his jaw, Maurice's showing his emotions so plainly disturbed him, it wasn't becoming of a man to appear so weak. He turned away, casting his eyes over the crowded tavern. He caught a couple of men sneaking glances over at the three of them, and wondered for a moment if he should recruit any of them in the search. No, it would look better if he did this alone. A plan solidified in his mind, and he nodded to himself.

"Tell you what Maurice," Gaston clapped the older man on the back, drawing a startled cry from him, "I'll start the search tomorrow at sunrise, and in the meantime why don't you get yourself home."

"But shouldn't we start looking right away? I mean, what if she's hurt, or in trouble out there?" Maurice was beside himself and Gaston had to repress a shudder.

"You are in no state to wander the woods at night, and besides, Belle is a smart girl. She'll come home to wait for you or if she can't, she'll find shelter." Gaston didn't know if he really believed that any woman could be smart, but the words seemed to calm the old man.

"I suppose you're right," He sighed wearily and closed his eyes, "I ought to be at the house in case she gets back." He yawned, "And I suppose that getting a little shut eye wouldn't hurt."

"Pardon me, Gaston?" He turned and saw that LeFou was looking anxiously at him, "Can I speak to you for a minute?" The small man hooked his thumb towards the corner of the room, where they wouldn't be overheard.

"Why don't you get yourself a little beer Maurice, calm your nerves, I'll be back." Gaston signaled to the bartender, indicating for whatever the old man ordered to be put on his tab. He stood and joined LeFou in the corner. "What is it?" He was irritated by the interruption, even if it meant a break from the old man's grotesque moods.

LeFou hesitated, "I should tell you," he grimaced, "it was our fault that Maurice was thrown from his horse."

"Our?" Gaston raised an eyebrow, not liking where this was going.

"I meant me and the guys!" LeFou's eyes widened, realizing how his words had sounded, "when we rode to the next town over for supplies! For the, you know…" Gaston darkened, not pleased to be reminded of his rejection again.

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" His voice was low, dangerous.

"I- I didn't think it was important! It's not like he remembered anyway, not with Belle going missing. And I made sure he wasn't going to be home too early at least! I sent him down that hunting trail that lets out by the orchards. You said you didn't want-"

"When, did I ever ask you to think?" Gaston was livid, the veins in his neck bulging, "Think about this, LeFou. What if Maurice had remembered it was our fault? Do you really think he'd appreciate our treatment of him?"

LeFou was shaking, finally realizing how he had jeopardized the possibility of Belle' father ever willingly going along with a marriage.

"Anything else you forgot to tell me?" He glared at LeFou, daring him to continue.

"N-no, I swear!" LeFou shook his head adamantly, his eyes darting past Gaston a couple times, and nervously said, "He's coming over here."

Gaston turned to see Maurice approaching the two of them, looking a little more relaxed, "I think I'm ready to go home, do you gentleman need anything more from me?" He glanced between the two of them, his eyebrows furrowing in concern, "Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing at all," Gaston grinned at him, ignoring his companion's bright red face, "LeFou here just wanted to apologize for his behavior today." He pushed the short man forward, "He feels it's his responsibility to make sure you get home safely, so he'll walk you home."

"Gaston-" LeFou started to protest but stopped when he saw the icy edge to the large man's smile. "Um, of course, let's go Maurice." He glanced at Gaston again, who nodded curtly, and he led the old man out of the tavern and into the night.

~~~

After the previous night's rains, the countryside was sparkling with morning dew. The leaves, both the ones still clinging to their branches, and the ones in drifts along the sides of the main road were resplendent with color, the moisture only enhancing their hues.

Gaston pulled his cloak off and draped it over his shoulder, since the sun had risen, the day had been warming up. He strode down the main road keeping an eye out for any signs that Belle had strayed from the path. So far he hadn't seen anything, which wasn't a surprise considering how busy the road usually was, but he was starting to become irritated the longer he had to walk.

If he had known that Belle had actually managed to get this far from town he would have ridden Suie rather than searching on foot. Although tracking was easier when he was closer to the ground, Gaston always wished he had more opportunities to ride his horse. He thought that the beautiful black coat of his steed complemented his own raven hair nicely, and besides he loved and respected Suie for his strength and grace.

Well, it was too late now. He had set out along the road right after paying a visit to the old man, Maurice had answered the door quickly when Gaston had knocked. It was clear he had been sleeping in the chair that was facing the door, the old man was still in the same clothes as last night, and was wincing every time he moved. After walking through the house to make sure Belle hadn't snuck in past the sleeping man, it was clear that she hadn't come home. Gaston had clapped the old man on the shoulder and assured him he would find her right away.

Now the thought that his promise had been a bit hasty was getting harder to push back into the recesses of his mind. He set his jaw, he was going to find Belle, and even if it took longer than he had anticipated, it would still be faster than anyone else could do it.

Gaston so far hadn't seen any indications that Belle had strayed from the main road, and that made sense so far, her father had been traveling to the city for that ridiculous gathering of crackpots he called a fair, he had been telling anyone that would listen in town all about it. Even if she was merely a woman, you'd have to be an absolute moron to not know the way to the city.

"Hello, Belle! Aren't you so glad to see me? I insisted on searching for you myself, your poor father was beside himself so I personally escorted him home after he came to me for help." That felt a bit over the top, but it was only his first try at it, the white lie about taking Maurice home himself wasn't a bad idea though, what was the likelihood that Maurice would remember that detail after his daughter was home safe? The old man had probably already forgotten last night, he had been so worked up. Of course, Gaston knew LeFou wouldn't say anything, he wouldn't dare.

He slowed to a stop, he had come upon the far end of the hunting path that LeFou had sent Maurice home on. It was not a very kind thing for him to have done, the path was poorly maintained and took much longer because it wound through the woods more like a snake than any road the old man was probably used to. Gaston thought that his lackey's decision had been risky, although it was true that he had specifically planned the surprise wedding to occur once the father of the bride was out of town, Maurice getting injured in any way would have made his attempts to tame Belle into a docile housewife difficult.

He knelt and examined the head of the trail, there were the broken plants and footprints of the old man as he had expected, but nothing to suggest a horse had gone though here. Gaston stood and scanned the area, furrowing his eyebrows when he saw what was on the opposite side of the road. He walked over and examined the worn directional sign, illegible. That wasn't what had drawn him to the other side of the road however, there was another path, almost invisible with the amount of brush that had grown over the worn wagon grooves.

Gaston was sure he had never noticed this path before, which was strange, hardly anything escaped his notice, and it looked as if it had once been wide enough to have been a busy road. He spotted a discarded hat, confirming that this had been where Maurice had been thrown. There was too much traffic on the main road to make out any specific tracks, but the brush that nearly hid the other path was clearly disturbed, and when he bent down to examine it, he found a distinct hoof print, one large enough that it had to have been a draft horse.

~~~

Following the tracks had been easy enough, although Gaston had been wrong about Belle venturing off the main road, she had at least stuck to this road, which was turning out to be a lot longer than he had anticipated.

He had honestly thought that tracking would have been a last resort, but the road was so overgrown that in places it was nearly invisible, the disturbances in the brush the only sign he was still heading in the right direction. After nearly an hour and a half of of picking his way along the seemingly forgotten path, Gaston finally came upon a huge iron gate set into a stone wall.

He walked up to the base and looked up, estimating that it was maybe 7 meters tall, he shook his head, thinking that such a thing was ridiculously out of place out here in the woods, until his eyes focused on what was beyond the iron bars, and he finally understood the size of the gate.

He slipped through the gap, the gate was slightly open, and craned his neck up at what he had seen. A castle, towering into the morning sky, a few tendrils of misty fog still clinging to the pointed rose colored roofs of the various towers. The walls were built out of pale stone, and although the sun was reflecting cheerfully off of the gleaming finials and the many windows looking down at him, Gaston couldn't help but feel dread when he gazed upon the place.

Something about this castle wasn't right, it didn't show any signs of life, but it wasn't in any disrepair. The only signs of abandonment were the great drifts of leaves against the wall and in the courtyard he could see through an archway at the far end of the bridge. He slowly walked up the bridge, taking in the gargoyles that stood guard on pedestals every few meters. The air itself felt unwelcoming as he got closer to the huge structure.

Gaston paused at the halfway point and leaned over the wide stone railing, a chill running up his spine when he saw how far the ravine below was. He wasn't afraid of heights, but just glancing down at the tiny river below had felt like someone had walked over his grave. He pushed the unease away, not wanting to dwell on it, nonetheless upping his pace towards the castle.

He finally crossed through the archway into the courtyard he had spotted before, he glanced around and furrowed his brows when he saw Belle's horse, his thick copper coat misted with dew, sitting with his legs curled up beside him. He was dozing, his saddle and reins still on him. Either Belle was being careless with the treatment of her horse, or she hadn't planned on staying here very long.

He eyed the horse a moment longer, it was a shame to leave the poor beast in his tack, but he wanted to be ready to go once he found Belle.

Gaston turned and approached the huge doors that were standing at the head of a small set of stone stairs, he ran his fingers over the wood, it needed to be oiled, but it was in surprisingly good condition. He knitted his brows, everything he was seeing was pointing towards a recent vacating of the castle, perhaps the last couple years. But the road was so overgrown, and wouldn't people have known of this place? Wouldn't he have known?

He pushed his steadily growing unease to the back of his mind, whatever strange phenomenon was going on here didn't concern him. He had a job to do, and thinking about old doors wasn't going to help.

He pressed his ear to the door, listening for anything on the other side. He stumbled when the door swung open slightly, a narrow beam of sunlight illuminating a dusty marble floor. It had been shut when he ran his hand along the wood, he was fairly certain of that, although… no, it must have been loose.

Gaston clenched his jaw, and slipped through the gap, pausing to let his eyes adjust to the dark. His keen ears couldn't hear anything besides the slight rustling of leaves being gently blow about on a breeze in the courtyard. And then the door clicked shut. And there was no sound. He had to force himself from whirling around to confirm what was obvious. He stood rigidly, surrounded by darkness and silence, trying to glean anything from his surroundings that could lead him to Belle.

He took a step, careful to make no noise as he did so, and he felt something beneath his boot. When he glanced down, his eyes had finally adjusted enough to for him see the rug, the ridiculous red carpet that led across the marble floor and up a huge set of stairs. He sniffed, someone is compensating for something. As his eyes skimmed along the floor something caught his attention, crouching down, he saw that the dust that coated the marble was disturbed. Footprints, headed towards one of the archways.

Gaston stood again, and followed the tracks silently, even though this place was clearly abandoned, his gut told him to stay alert. There had been other… tracks, although it looked as if a candle had been repeatedly set down along the floor, dripping wax as it went. And something else that had four square feet, a box, or something like that. He had no idea what to make of it, Belle was certainly odd, but… was she more like her father than he thought?

He shook his head, there would be time, to discuss, her peculiarities when they were married. First he had to actually retrieve her. He stalked through the halls, pausing occasionally to confirm he was still on the right course.

Gaston stilled, he had just come up on a closed door where the footprints seemed to lead, but the sound of voices after so much silence had stopped him in his tracks. He had been about to grasp the doorknob, and a voice had echoed down the hall, further into the castle. It was a man, and though he couldn't make out any words, the speaker had sounded upset.

He followed the sound of the voice, and as Gaston got closer, he could now hear two other voices, speaking at a more regular volume compared to the first.

"I know that! But we can't leave her here, it's the dining room for heaven's sake! It's unhygienic!" Gaston crept towards the light spilling from the open doorway, and peeked around the corner inside.

There was what looked like a body, covered with a sheet near the end of a long dining table. He squinted, confused by what his eyes were telling him. There was a, clock, gesturing wildly to a candelabra and a teapot.

"What would the master say? He told us to have, this- her cleaned up!" The clock was hysterical, and started to pace a long the length of the body, "What are we going to do, you know what happens when the master gets angry, we can't, we mustn't, let him get angry!"

The teapot let out a huff, "Well, nothing is going to be fixed by having a fit about it, Cogsworth, you were the one that wanted to be in charge." She, the teapot seemed to have a woman's voice, hopped over to the candlestick, "Come on then boys, we have got to figure out how to move her, and I think my idea of dragging her with a sheet is the best shot we have."

"Ouie, maybe if we use the tea cart, we can pull her more easily?" The candle looked exhausted, his flames were low and sputtering. "I can't pull, y'know." He gestured with his candles, and the clock nodded.

"It's rather gruesome, but I suppose you're right." The clock sighed, looking at the covered body, "God, do I miss having hands." He turned to face the other two, saw their faces and frowned, "What is it now?" He turned to look at what they were staring at, and Gaston realized they saw him.