Well I've rewritten this several times, and this is the better of my attempts. I sort of tripped and made a big sad with this one. For the record, the "Once Upon a Kindergarten" series is a whole set of one-shots that I write as they come to me. All characters are game, but many will probably involved Belle and Rumbelle because that is my ship. Rather than try to update chapter by chapter, I will be publishing each as its own one-shot.
Bitty Belle breaks my heart, and I feel like there's something really tragic going on with Belle's mom and that whole back story in the show verse. Perhaps someday we will see…
Belle wasn't sure about this at all. Biting her trembling bottom lip, she wrapped her finger around her father's belt loop and trailed behind him as the lady from the office with the loud clacking shoes led them down a long hallway. It smelled funny, something that kind of tickled and kind of stung her nose. On either side of the walls were pictures that probably other kids had drawn.
"Here we are," came the too happy voice, and the door opened, and her father put a big hand on her shoulder and tried to lead her into the room.
Belle stopped, her little shoes trying to dig into the shiny tile. She sniffled, and rubbed her nose fast, hoping she wouldn't cry again. He didn't like it when she cried because, and she didn't like it when she cried because it made her papa's sad look even sadder. She closed her eyes and wished she could open them and be in her secret spot in their new house. If she had her best wish, she would be in her secret spot in her old house that wasn't too big and wasn't all the way away, so far they had to fly on airplanes and across the dark sky and water and through the whole night.
Her father bent down now, and he tried to pry her fingers off of his belt loop, and it made her squeeze the little cloth loop even harder. "Belle, darling, it's alright. You'll like this class and make lots of friends, and learn so many things."
"Yes," the office lady cooed, and Belle pouted rebelliously in her direction. "There's so much to learn. You'll know letters and numbers and so many fun things by the end of the school year."
Her head shook slightly, curls tumbling around her shoulders. "Je connais les lettres et les nombres," Belle protested in a hushed whisper, ignoring the lady. "Je veux rentrer à la maison, s'il vous plait."
"English, love. And I know you do, but I have to work, and this will be good for us." He was talking in that voice he used when he wanted her to be big girl, when he was trying to be brave, too. Like when he tried to tell her that even though her mummy was gone that everything would be okay.
It wasn't okay. She just knew. "I can be brave for you, papa," she whispered. And when he hugged her, she only hugged back a little bit because she was afraid if she did, then she wouldn't want to let go again.
He touched the little blue bow holding her curls from falling into her face and again held open the door the room. Belle bit her bottom lip just so and slowly moved inside the room. "There's my girl, c'mon, then."
The room had more children in it than her old school, and she ducked behind her papa and watched the groups. Some were coloring, some were writing or cutting on paper, and some were listening to something with big headphones like her mummy used to use, the ones that had belonged to grand-mere a long, long time ago.
"Hello, welcome to our class," the teacher was saying, quickly coming to meet the trio and shaking hand with Belle's papa. She leaned down and gave that too-nice smile adults always gave Belle when they thought she was younger than she was and when they wanted her to do something that she didn't want to do. "And who is this?"
"Bella—" the office lady started to say.
Belle shook her head and frowned. "Belle French."
"And tell me about you. How old are you, Belle?" the teacher asked sweetly in the way that Belle knew meant that she didn't think Belle was big enough. "Isn't she better suited for Miss Carter?"
"I'm five years old. Six in December," she added, looking up and down the lady again, almost daring her to question her age a second time.
His hand gently urged her forward again. "It's best for everyone," he murmured. "I'll be back once school has ended." His arm slid around her shoulders for a quick hug, and then he was slipping out the door with the office lady and leaving her with this teacher and a room of curious children.
More than once Belle had been called 'shy,' but she wasn't. No exactly. Quiet, maybe. She liked looking at books and exploring things on her own, and even the kids at her other school thought she was a little different. She bit her bottom lip now and peered up at her teacher as her fingers toyed nervously with the sleeve to her new jacket that her papa had said she needed for school, the one to go with her new skirt and leggings and little boots.
"Why don't we try this," the teacher said softly, leading Belle to a corner with books. She handed over a pencil and paper with wide lines for writing. "Can you write your name at the top and then write as many of your letters as you can remember?"
Belle nodded, and let herself be led to a table near a little corner filled with cushions and a bean bag and an enchanting group of books. Carefully she shifted her pencil to her right hand and printed out Belle French in almost straight letters at the top of her page. She had spotted the poster with the alphabet on the wall behind her, but she didn't need it to write out her letters.
She was so absorbed in her work that she didn't notice anyone nearby until something bumped her shoe. Pushing back slowly, Belle bent down and peered in surprise at the little girl with long, dark hair and big eyes.
"Rawr," the girl said playfully, and Belle blinked again. "Are you in our class now?"
With a shrug, Belle tried to think up an answer. She supposed so, at least she didn't think her papa would let her stay home any more.
"If you're in our class, how come you didn't come here before?" the girl asked now, crawling out from under the table and sitting on the floor beside her. She was staring at Belle like she was a bright and shiny new toy.
"I didn't live here before," Belle finally said.
"Oh. Oh, I'm Ruby," the girl finally introduced herself with a wide smile. "I always lived here. Where did you live before and how come you talk different?"
She blushed a little, because everyone said she talked different here. Even though Belle was pretty sure she had always talked the same way her whole life, like her Papa and Mummy but not like grand-mere who always talked en franḉais. "I lived in Aufstralia," she answered, trying to get her mouth around the big name.
Ruby nodded a little like adults when they tried to pretend they understood, but they never really did. "How come you moved here?"
Belle bit her bottom lip and tried very hard to think of her numbers or her letters or anything that wouldn't mean having to answer for a minute. "We just… had to. Papa and I did."
"Your Papa looks nice. Do you have a granny? I live with my granny," Ruby explained as she played with her red and black shoelaces on her trainers.
"I have grand-mere, but she doesn't live here. Elle vit en France," she explained, suddenly going silent when she realized that Ruby was giving her that funny look again. She had probably talked in French again, and Belle bit her bottom lip nervously. Before she'd never had to think about it. With her mummy, they talked in English and in French, and the words didn't matter. Papa was usually English, he didn't talk French as much as mummy had, but he usually understood. Here… it was different.
Curious eyes were looking her over again, and Ruby pointed to her necklace. "That's pretty. Did your papa get it for you?"
Her little fingers wrapped around the small clear gem dangling around her neck. She shook her head slowly, curls bobbing. "N-no. My mummy had it," came her whispered answer, and she bit her lip harder and sniffled. She wanted to be home, and not here. But she had told papa she would be brave, and so Belle swallowed hard and stared at the floor until the bad feeling wasn't so big.
"Ruby Lucas, have you finished your work?" the teacher called across the room, and Belle jumped a little in surprise and quickly picked up her pencil again.
"Almost," Ruby answered their teacher, dragging out the word and giving Belle a quick smile before jumping up to return to her table. "Sit by me at lunch," she whispered before trotting back to her spot and leaving Belle to finish her work.
I speak/read very broken French, so I had to rely on some translation help here. Please be gentle if my translations are off, and, yes, I gave Bitty Belle the same birth month as Emilie because it was simply easier that way…
Grand-mere "grandmother"
Je connais les lettres et les nombres "I know my letters and numbers."
Je veux rentrer à la maison, s'il vous plait. "I want to go home, please."
Elle vit en France. "She lives in France"