Author's Note(:P) Ok, it has taken me FOREVER to update this baby! Well, guess what now I have! Wahooo! Unfortunately, what I've updated is the editing of chapter 1, not an actual additional chapter (please don't hate me I swear I'll have it up soon). It was more or less an accident when I put the rough draft of Beauty and the Beast:A retelling up to the public, I should have waited, but I got all excited and couldnt wait to share. Anywho, this is what chapter 1 was supposed to look like, so if you've read the other version, share your opinions with me in the reviews on which you liked better, and if you have not read the previous version just tune me in to your thoughts on this version. Please disregard any horrible grammer mistakes you see along the way (although if it's something huge, such as a name, do tell me in the comments)
I do not own any of these characters, they are owned by the folks that dealt with the Disney movie, so DO NOT sue me please. ..
P.S. This WILL have some mature rated material in it at one point or another, so if you have no desire for that please don't be hatin' and if you're to young, don't be readin
Belle ran down the dirt path that leads from her and her father's house to the village outskirts. The wind picked up tendrils of her hair making the long dark strands dance in the wind. The cool autumn air nipped at her cheeks as she gingerly jumped over piles of leaves. She was so happy it was fall—it was her favorite season along with the cool beauty of winter. She had mused often over her choice of seasons, because the seasons she loved everyone else disliked and dreaded in the little village. Her father had once told her that she sympathized with the seasons and that she had always liked and cared for the things that everyone else found different or unpleasing. He said it was only natural that she cares for the seasons that didn't receive as much love.
She slowed herself down as she entered the village and plunged into the throngs of people. Her happiness over the weather quickly diminished though as she took in the demeanor of the villagers. She controlled herself from sighing out loud. Her and her father have been living in town for nearly nine months, she thought the villagers would have accepted her by now. She knew that it was not necessarily her personally that bothered them. It was the simple fact that she was new in town. Roughly three months ago, the attention had been drawn from Belle and her father when a family of four moved into the vicinity. Belle had had the opportunity to be the one observing the newcomers not the other way around. The family had only managed to last a fortnight before they moved being unable to handle the glares and comments that the natives made. Belle had felt relief with the arrival of new people in town, the attention had finally been off of her and she had managed to mingle and blend in. But, as soon as the family left, Belle had once again become the talk of the town.
The glares that were cast her way made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up, people talked and some even moved out of her way as if not to accidentally be associated with her. A mother and a child were walking ahead of her and the child turned to stare and even pointed a chubby finger at Belle. Belle smiled at the boy, he opened his mouth as if to say something, but the mother turned and saw him pointing and when she realized it was at Belle, her mouth hardened and she grabbed her son by the arm tugging him into the crowd. Belle grimaced—even children were trained to notice that she didn't belong.
She continued to weave through the crowd clutching her small book to her chest like a shield. Even though the population of the town was small the town itself was even smaller and the people were packed into it, so the streets were constantly crowded. Belle was bumped into, ran into, pushed and shoved, she was pretty sure that a lot of it wasn't on accident either. She held her side where a particularly sharp elbow had jabbed her and she made her way to a clearing. She stood in the clearing for a bit, warring with herself on whether she should plunge back in or try to find a less painful, faster way to reach the bookstore on the other side of town.
As she was deliberating, she saw the baker across the street overtop all the bobbing heads. He was waving his arms madly and he was staring straight at her. He was smiling broadly and he even raised a loaf of bread into the air to grab her attention. She smiled slowly and tentatively at his show and she slowly raised her hand and waved back, pushing her hair out of her face as she did so.
People stopped and stared as if wondering why the baker was being nice to her. It was the first public display of affection she had gotten from anyone in this town, other than Mr. Fehr, the owner of the bookstore.
"Bonjour, Belle!" He yelled over the herd of people, before giving a final wave and going back to stocking his bread cart. Belle was so happy at this simple hello that she laughed, her happiness filling the people around her with happiness too, whether they wanted it or not.
Belle felt like she had just climbed mountains or had plunged through a dangerous forest and survived. She was still smiling, but then she remembered that she had to get home in time for lunch. At this rate and the slow pace of the crowd she would never make it. She had to find a faster route.
The town was made up of two rows of buildings, houses and shops that faced each other and straight down the center was the main road. The sides of the road were where the people walked and weaved around each other and then the middle of the road was left clear for wagons and carts that were passing through. It was no doubt in Belle's mind that the wagon would be faster than simply walking. There was no way though that she had access to the wagons. She had no money with her to charge a ride.
But…it looked promising. With one quick look around she saw she was in front of the wig shop and there was a covered carriage parked in front, loaded and ready to go, the driver was just climbing up to his seat. Belle contemplated her choice, biting her lip in consternation, did she want to travel safely and slowly or did she want to risk it and hitch a ride?
She did have to make it home before lunch.
With that thought, she made her decision. She lunged at the carriage, hoping to catch the driver before he was fully in his seat. She hoped to ask for free ride, but, alas, she was too slow and driver was already perched and grabbing for the leather reins. As the carriage jolted, she didn't even think about her choice, she leaped. Her fingers grasped the siding of the carriage hauling herself up and keeping her balanced, making sure she didn't fall off. Her feet were neatly tucked beside the trunk that rattled on the back of the carriage. She realized she was in no danger of falling so she held on with only one hand. It was exhilarating! She threw her other arm out letting the brunt of the wind hit her. Her hair flew wildly about and her dress danced around her ankles, baring the dainty slippers that covered her feet.
It was an exhilarating feeling, definitely the most exciting thing that had happened to her in the drool town. Judging by the stunned faces that flashed by she got the impression that this was the most exciting thing they've seen in a while. They'd likely never seen, a woman particularly, riding on the back of the carriage. Oh, they pointed and shouted and the old driver looked around curiously, wondering why they were noticing his carriage. Belle stayed silent and ducked down so she wouldn't be noticed by him.
She could have stayed on the horse-drawn carriage forever, but they soon reached the area that the bookstore was in and she had to get off. She pondered for a bit, wondering how to make it down safely, but she soon realized it was futile. There was only one way she could get down without hurting herself and that was when the carriage stopped. With no other choice she opened her mouth to alert the driver of her presence, so he would stop. But, before she could say anything, a man in the crowd yelled out louder than anyone else and gave her presence away to the driver. The withered old man turned around and saw Belle's head peeking over the ceiling of the carriage. Belle saw his eyes widen, before the carriage came to a careening halt. The driver was yelling out words that burned her ears and made her blush heat her cheeks.
Belle jumped off quickly and took off towards the bookstore, the old man yelling behind her. Thankfully she managed to escape into the safety of the crowd that had gathered and she pushed her way through to the bookstore.
Now, leaning against the door of the bookstore she breathed in and out, grinning madly and laughing. How exciting! She was laughing at the fact that the town probably viewed her as a fugitive of sort now. So, the baker's kind act had been wiped from their minds. They would remember the bad things, not the good.
She calmed herself enough, so that Mr. Fehr wouldn't think she was completely insane for laughing deliriously. She walked a few more steps into the small shop, letting the smell of old books cloud her senses. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, the scent calming her. She ran the tips of her fingers over stacks of books that were taller than her and over shelves piled with old works that hadn't been looked at in years. She loved it in places like this. Places where peace could so easily be found by diving into a book.
She traveled the short distance to the back of the store where Mr. Fehr was dozing, his snores filling the store and making her ears ring. She giggled softly and walked closer, she placed the book she had brought back on the table, where he could find it, being careful she didn't want to wake him.
Then, she walked away a bit looking for anything that interested her. She had gathered a couple in her hands and was prepared to leave, knowing that Mr. Fehr wouldn't mind her taking them. It was a system that they had made almost upon her arrival to town. She at first had been buying the books, but she didn't have the funds to keep up her reading habits and when Mr. Fehr realized this he began lending them to her with a trust that surprised yet pleased Belle.
One of the books in her hands was wobbling in the crook of her arm and before she could catch it, it tumbled to the floor, waking Mr. Fehr. He jumped and clutched his chest a bit. He looked around frantically before settling back after seeing Belle.
"Oh, Belle! My, you gave me a fright!"
"Sorry, Mr. Fehr, the book slipped faster than I could grab it."
"That's alright. I'm glad you woke me, I shouldn't be sleeping on the job." He removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes, when he replaced the thick glass his eyes focused on the book that she had laid on the counter. "Belle, what? Finished, already? Bah, I shouldn't be surprised," he smiled fondly.
"Oh, I just couldn't put it down. It was a lovely book, thank you for recommending it." She then held up the stack of books that she was clutching, "I picked these out while you were, um… working."
He humphed, "I wish that could be considered work." He gestured to the books, "anything good in there?"
She grinned and set them on the counter, holding the top one up proudly, "Yes, very good."
"That one? But you've read it twice!"
"Yes, I love it! Daring sword fights, a prince in disguise, and…romance. It's the perfect book." She looked at it fondly.
Mr. Fehr smiled. "Well, if you like it so much it's yours," he cut off her stunned refusal with, "I insist."
She clutched the book close to her chest, "Thank you, thank you very much."
They continued to talk about the other books that she had picked out. Discussing plots, actions, and the symbols in each, Mr. Fehr knew that Belle was just itching to get home to read her new books, so he hurried the conversation along and said his goodbye. Belle waved as she left with her treasures.
As she was walking outside, she noticed three middle-aged women with their noses pressed up against the glass. They quickly scrambled to the wooden bench that was next to them, trying to sit in time, as if she wouldn't notice. The women talked and whispered as if they thought Belle didn't have ears.
"What a poor unfortunate girl…"
"So Beautiful, yet strange…"
"She's mental, that one…"
"That incident with the carriage…"
Belle didn't care to hear any more of their talk. She turned up her nose as haughtily as she could when deeply embarrassed, and turned on a heel. She thought of the comments she had overheard and even more than that the overall disrespect that the women had shown her. She tried to quell the angry urge to stomp over to them and give them a piece of her mind. They were just so—
Belle had to calm down, she couldn't get mad like this. To calm herself down she opened up her favorite book. Not caring that she was standing in the middle of the street with people all around her. She opened to the prologue and began reading and she even started walking. She walked automatically, not even watching where she was going. The fantasy soon sucked her in and she forgot all about the women. After a few moments she looked up to actually look for a place to sit down. She was in the central part of town and a large fountain dominated the middle of the square. She hurried over and sat on the cool gray stone and set the other books beside her and reopened the one she had been reading. Then, she threw herself wholeheartedly into a fantasy that she wished was real.
He smoothed a hand down the smoothness of his jaw, feeling the stubble that was already emerging despite his shave that morning. He watched the streets for any sign of his men or Belle. A muscle in his cheek ticked threateningly at the thought of Belle and a trace of anger washed over him.
Belle's stunt with the carriage had brought to much attention to her. It couldn't happen again, he didn't want to become known as the man whose wife once rode on the back of a carriage like a madwoman. She was quite beautiful, but clearly lacking in the mind. Oh, she wasn't his wife yet, but she would be, and she should be making a good feminine example for the rest of the town to look up too. He just had to be… patient. It had been nine months since they had first met and Gaston was quickly running out of patience, she had avoided him at every turn. He had tried giving her space, letting her come to him, like the majority of women did. But, she hadn't—not once. He was done waiting. Belle had pushed him over the edge and he was going to take matters into his own hands.
Gaston sighed and shifted, when was she going to come out of that damn bookstore? He closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the building behind him. He had men from the pub located in different places around the town, so that Belle wouldn't get through without him being alerted. He had a brief glimpse of doubt, was she really worth all the trouble she was causing for him? But, he shoved that thought out of his mind. She was the most beautiful this town had to offer and he would have nothing less than the best. So, she was his whether she wanted it or not. He had no doubt that he could persuade her. Whether he persuaded her with or without her consent was completely up to her.
He stood lost in thought as he waited for her. Gaston gritted his teeth, he didn't like this waiting on someone, he had never had to do it before, he always got what he wanted, when he wanted it and he wanted Belle—badly. He was tired of local whores and the flirtatious women that desired marriage that were constantly following him around. As much as Belle's ignorance of him enraged him, it intrigued him more than anything, because no woman had ever ignored him before.
He raised a stark black brow at the sight of Harry running towards him through the throng of people, he seemed out of breath and excited. Gaston felt a bit of disgust at the sight of the man, he had dirt and grime all over his jacket and boots, and he had the horrible feeling that if Harry got that much closer, his nose was going to be assaulted by the smell.
"Sir, we've spotted her outside the bookstore! She's now sitting on the fountain in town."
"About time," Gaston said to himself loudly, he pushed himself off the wall. He hefted up the skins of his kills that had been beside him, throwing the dense pelts over his shoulder and picking up his heavy rifle with his other hand. He started off in the direction of the fountain, making sure to give the reeking Harry a wide breadth. "What is she doing at the fountain?" he asked, he felt a bit pleased at the thought that she was just taking in the beauty of the fountain and he even smiled a bit. Delicate like a woman should be, his woman. But, the pleased feeling was soon dashed and a scowl replaced it when he heard Harry's answer.
"Uh… she was readin', sir."
Gaston clenched his fists and he almost heard his riffle crack. Her and those damn books. They weren't made to be read by fine women like her, yet she persisted with it, instead of focusing on more important issues like him. He snorted at himself, he was jealous of some damn books. He calmed himself a bit with the thought that once she was finally his, books would no longer exist in her world.
He continued walking at a fast pace, the people just moved out of his way. Men with fear in their eyes and women with simpering desire. He eventually came to the central part of town and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Belle. He felt Harry run into his back, because he had been following so close, but he ignored the stuttered apologies. Without even looking at the ripe Harry he shoved the skins into his arms with the order to take them to the pub, where all of his hunting victories went. His focus was then on Belle.
All other thoughts besides making her his left his mind. She was beautiful and while she was sitting there reading her senseless books, she paid him no heed and he could pursue her body as much as he desired. He took advantage of the opportunity and stared unabashedly, approaching her slowly so not to alert of her of the impending danger. He would treat her as he treated the bashful does in the forest. She wouldn't have time to run by the time he reached her.
Her brown hair was tied back with a pleasant blue ribbon, and the soft waves danced in the breeze. He longed to touch the strands and see if they were as silky as they looked. His eyes traveled down the column of her exposed throat, the porcelain skin begging for his lips. She had on a long-sleeved light blue dress with white accents. It was a thick dress, but did nothing to cover or hide the fact that she had curves. Her breasts were large, large enough for him to cup in his hands. This was no small feat, because his hands were as large as the rest of him.
Her waist dipped in, but then flared out to wider hips. As he stalked her sitting there, he briefly wondered if her thighs were as soft and plush as the rest of her. He fully planned on finding out.
Gaston looked up from her briefly and realized people were staring at the two of them, he had gotten roughly ten feet away from her before he had stopped. But, as he looked into the eyes of the people that were blatantly staring, they weren't staring at them he realized. But, her. Her looks demanded attention wherever she went.
The women were staring at Belle with a bit jealousy. The men were looking appreciatively at her, he saw the stares that lingered and tried to control the bit of possessiveness that ran through him, she was his, they had no right to gawk—that was his pleasure.
He comprehended that Belle didn't know people were staring at her and he had the feeling that if she did, she wouldn't have thought it was because of her looks. All the other women that Gaston knew would have gloated and sucked up the attention like an old whore, but not Belle.
He was practically standing over her and she didn't notice. He found himself moving out of the way with deft skills when she suddenly shot up from her seat on the fountain and screamed, "Lunch! I completely forgot!"
He didn't move far enough away and when she shot up, she shot right up into his arms. His first thought—soft. She was so soft against him. Through the layers of clothing between them, he could feel the contours of her body and they were so close, and by the widening of her eyes, Gaston was sure that she could feel that he was anything but soft. He was completely hard—everywhere.
He saw her pretty brown eyes widen tremendously and heard and felt her gasp. She shoved out of his arms, nearly falling over the pile of books that she had piled up. Gaston had to reach out and catch her again, he could have reached for her outstretched arm, but he took advantage and grabbed her by the dip in her waist and pulled her into him instead. He smiled as her face flooded with a pretty blush at the intimate contact. She moved to push away and when she did so her soft hip rubbed against his groin and he had to check a groan that rumbled up from his chest.
He let go of her so that they wouldn't make a scene, but he did so reluctantly. She was oblivious as she bent down and picked up her books, leaving her derriere to his perusal. The view was much too short as she quickly grabbed the books and righted herself, facing him again.
Gaston was thankful for the fact that they were so close. The folds of her skirt hid his desire from prying eyes. Without looking he knew that it was going to be more than noticeable if she moved away. She had to stay close enough while he calmed himself. But, considering she was the reason for his desire it made it a bit hard to calm down when so close to temptation.
"Bonjour, Belle," he said intimately and charmingly.
Her eyes sparked with fire at his tone and her mouth tightened, "Gaston I'm sorry, I can't stay I have to get home to my father." She turned her back on him and started walking.
He jumped into action, walking exceedingly close to her as his desire dwindled down. Her father? Humph. Maurice, the Madman as they called him down at the pub. Gaston almost laughed out loud, the man was a dunce, but he knew if he laughed it would only push Belle further away from him. Belle was also the only reason that the town didn't chase Maurice out.
"Oh, but Belle, wouldn't lunch be better with me, than an old man?" He laughed confidently and knowingly, grabbing her elbow and turning her towards the tavern.
"No, Gaston!" she jerked her arm out of his grasp. "Gaston I find spending time with my father very pleasurable and—" His chuckle cut her off.
"I think," he bent to whisper in her ear from behind her, "that you'll find the experience with me far more pleasurable." Gaston let his lips linger on the shell of her ear. Women always gave into him at this point and he was running out of options. If Belle didn't submit to him soon, he would have to resort to force. He would make her love him. No matter how long it took. No matter how she fought. She would love him. He would make sure of it. He had already waited nine months, he wasn't waiting any more.
Belle saw Gaston's eyes sharpen on her as she denied him yet again by pushing him forcefully away. She saw the ever-present anger and confidence in his gaze. He looked like a man who did what he wanted and her refusal to comply obviously didn't sit well with him.
His square jaw hardened and he retreated only inches. "Belle," he whispered, "you will be mine. No matter how many damn books you read, no matter how many times your father messes up, I will be the one to take you as my wife. You will be the one to give me and take care of my children—as a proper woman should."
By his glare, Belle knew she was not a "proper" woman at the moment. She felt a flame of anger inside of her. She arched a brow in annoyance, he had no right to talk to her in such a way. She opened her mouth in an angry retort, "I will never mar—"
"Belle," he warned, "watch your words. I'm already annoyed that you insist on playing the coy damsel when clearly you'll give into me in the end. Now, why not be a good woman and come with me for once?" He looked at her body, mainly at her chest and hips, "I will make it more than pleasing for you."
He looked like he was holding on by a thread, his control almost destroyed. He was starting to close in on her, she backed up a few spaces from his brazen actions. She thought quickly of quick denials and refusals, he'd react with nothing but anger if she was too harsh. So, she tried to move around the subject with a hidden refusal.
"But…but, what will my father or the people think Gaston? I have my reputation to think of."
"If you wish we can be married by morning. I've already discussed with the priest of a wedding ceremony."
Before she knew it her back was against a wall of a building and Gaston was getting closer. She could easily reach out and touch his chest when he finally stopped. Incredulousness clogged her throat—he'd talked to the priest? About marriage to her? She fought a sliver of fear, she had believed that Gaston's seduction had been simply to do just that—seduce, she hadn't actually believed that he desired marriage. That he really did, that she could be tethered to this man by the force of the town was terrifying.
"When did you talk to the priest?" She wanted to know how long he had been planning this and at this point would almost say anything to stall him from coming closer.
"Three weeks after you arrived into town. You became the most beautiful girl in the town, therefore you became mine."
Belle tensed as his palms came crashing down beside her head, caging her within his arms. The wide breadth of his chest blocked any possible view she could have had other than him. Panic welled up as she huddled as close as she could to the wall. What if she couldn't get away? What if—"
As he was leaning into her body, he was stopped mid-lean by a screeching feminine voice. "Gaston! How lucky we are to see you here!" The tone of the voice was a hint annoyed with forced cheerfulness. Gaston raised an eyebrow, until that moment Belle hadn't known how angry a person could look by just that simple facial action. He pulled himself away reluctantly, Belle felt thankful for the person that had interrupted them, but she also felt pity for the fact that they'd have to deal with the angry brute.
As Belle's surroundings once again became visible she was able to see the woman that had spoken, it was Helen, one of the pretty triplets of the town. Next to her was Gaston's not-so-diligent minion—LeFou. The stout portly fellow that followed Gaston like an adoring puppy, unfortunately not nearly as cute one though.
His bulbous nose hung over thick blubbering lips that always seemed to be dripping with saliva… he was not an attractive specimen. Belle was somewhat surprised to see the homely man with the pretty girl, not because of the difference in looks, but because Helen usually only targeted men with bulging brawn. By the way she was hungrily eyeing Gaston, she was likely only using LeFou to get to him. Belle felt a pang of sympathy for LeFou, but the sentiment was quickly dashed as she witnessed his hand grope Helen.
Helen's eyes widened when she saw that it was Belle whom he had had pressed up against the wall. She silently seethed and at the same time recoiled as she felt LeFou's chubby hand travel farther down past her lower back. She quickly shifted trying to mask her distaste. LeFou had spilled a pint of ale on himself at the pub and now he stunk of it. She could almost get sloshed off the fumes coming from his body.
She also moved because she didn't want Gaston to notice LeFou touching her. After all she had endured from LeFou just to stay close to Gaston, she would be damned before LeFou ruined it all for her.
"So, Belle," she tried to sound sweet as sugar, but everything that left her mouth was a smidgen snide. "What are you and… Gaston doing out this evening?"
She knew full well what they had been doing. She saw how Gaston stared at Belle and she knew how he had warned his men to stay away from her, pretty much claiming her for his. And Belle, the petty little bitch, was seducing him. She'd probably used her body to ensnare him in a marriage trap, what a whorish move. Helen snorted, she would never have to lower herself to that level, she was perfect enough as it was. She was somewhat surprised when Gaston answered her, for she had addressed Belle.
Helen realized to late that she had somehow messed up, Gaston had leveled that scary yet undeniably sexy glare on her. She had angered him somehow.
"LeFou, control your whore! She intervened in a very agreeable marriage proposal."
Helen felt her jaw drop, a marriage proposal? He thought she was a whore? He wanted to marry Belle? Belle? In her dumbfounded state she didn't even fight off the meaty hand of LeFou when he slung it around her waist and placed a sloppy kiss on her neck. LeFou pulled her into his side and she heard through a fog his drunken baffling.
"Why, this young lady," he burped unpleasantly. "Is very nice company." He then made vulgar motions with his hands to accentuate his point.
Gaston's lip curled in distaste as he glanced from Helen to LeFou, he turned his gaze to Belle or where Belle was supposed to be. She wasn't there anymore. She watched as Gaston turned himself around, looking full-circle. Helen spotted the little whore running up the trail to her house. She wasn't about to point out the location of the enemy to her beloved.
Gaston only got more frustrated at the fact that Belle was gone, he tried yelling at LeFou a little more, but LeFou was too drunk and to focused on groping Helen to really understand the insults that Gaston was shoving at him. With rage in his actions, Gaston turned and stomped off towards the tavern, but that's not what killed Helen. As he was going into the tavern, Gwen, Helen's sister and triplet, was outside. Gaston spoke a few words before grabbing her by the hand and tugging her inside, even from the distance between them, Helen could hear Gwen's giggles. She had no doubt what they were going to be doing in the tavern, she had longed to be picked by Gaston herself in such a fashion. Instead she got stuck with LeFou, she glanced down at the man in question, he was staring brazenly at her chest. It was all Belle's fault.