Title: Ruined
Rated: G
Summary: Sir Maurice knew when she returned home with a broken smile and a babe at her breast that the beast had completely ruined her. Slight AU.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Disney and others own all.
AN: Just a little AU that I wrote like in two hours, which came from reading one to many Rumbelle fics on my day off. I'm thinking about doing a sequel for when Belle wakes up, but I'm note sure. We'll see, though.
A year and half after his daughter dealt herself away to Rumplestiltskin to save their town, Sir Maurice had given up hope of ever seeing her again.
It hadn't started out that way. As soon as she had disappeared out the door with the imp, Maurice had sent Gaston to stop them. He had been determined to not let his daughter trade herself like some sort of low rate cattle in exchanged for his help, but they were already gone by then: evaporated into a puff of purple smoke if the horrified maid they come across were to be believed.
In desperation Maurice called upon his allies for help. Those who had been present at the meeting refused him with gentle rebuffs. The ogres had retreated almost as quickly as Rumplestiltskin and Belle had disappeared. They would not go back on her deal if it meant continue a war that they knew they would loose (not to mention incur the wrath of the demon that had stolen her away). She had decided her fate just as she wished to do and in turn saved their kingdom. They refused to help him jeopardize that, even if they could understand his wish to save his only daughter.
King Midas refused him as well, though not without sympathy. He has a beautiful daughter near her age, after all.
King Stefan refused to him as he was busy with his own problems with an evil sorcerer, which also tied up any help from King Hubert whose son was betrothed to the girl with the problem.
Prince Eric had been away at sea.
King William and his son Thomas were trying to keep their kingdom from going to war with the Queen.
He wouldn't dare ask that woman for help against Rumplestiltskin unless he wanted his entire kingdom burnt to ash.
In desperation Maurice had called even upon King George with whom he only had the most tentative truce. The reply had been polite, cold, and held just a little bit of mockery to it as he wondered who would be foolish enough to try and break a deal once it was struck.
The only one willing to fight for his daughter, it seemed, was Gaston. After the last rejection, he had set off for the Dark Castle with promises of his return with Belle flowing from his lips. That was six months ago. The kingdom had given up hope of his return (with or without Belle at his side).
Maurice had learned long ago that the gods were cruel. They had taken his beloved when she and Belle were both far too young. They had allowed his land to be ravaged by ogres. They had let his daughter be lost to a monster.
However, Maurice hadn't known the extent of the gods cruelty until his daughter had returned to his home with a broken smile and a babe at her breast.
He had known, before she even tried to explain, what had happened. The beast had taken her and ruined her completely. Maurice had always heard that Rumplestiltskin did not share his things. He had made sure the Belle would always be seen as that: one of his things that he toyed with and then tossed aside when he lost interest. He made her a whore and left a bastard behind to show the world that she was no longer any good.
If Maurice would have had any sense, he would have snatched the child away and killed it there to spear both it and his daughter the pain that would follow. It would have been a secret: one that he was sure would have made his daughter hate him, but at least she would have had a chance to live a normal life.
His viceroys, however, had seen the babe when she returned. They whispered things in his ear about what should be done. Belle needed to be purged and purified if she ever wished to stand amongst them again.
The child, of course, would have to disappear.
His Belle would not hear of it. She fought them like a true mother dragon. She clawed and hissed and all but spit fire at them, but it was no use. An angry mother she may be, but they were well-trained knights and guards.
For as long as he may live, Sir Maurice will never forget the way Belle screamed when they were finally able to pry the small one from her arms. He even called for him. Everyone waited for a moment with baited breath, but he did not come. No one came to save the babe that was only wanted by its mother.
Afterwards, Belle was locked away in a tower so the priest could do their work in helping save her. Later on when she seemed to be getting no closer to being cleansed than before, the Queen offered her help. Belle was whisked away yet again, but Maurice had more hope this time than the last. He hoped that perhaps the Queen could have save her. Perhaps she would have been able to return his daughter to him in the way she was before.
He hadn't mentioned the child. He wasn't sure why. The Queen would probably want to know about it, but Maurice couldn't quiet make himself tell that one secret (and all the others who did know had been bound to secrecy as well). He liked to pretend that it was from loyalty to his daughter and not shame that he held his tongue. As he waited for news that whatever that spell the beast had put over her to make her loose all her dignity and breeding was dispelled, Maurice found that he rather liked to pretend about a good deal of things.
Then the news of Belle's death was sent back to him, and again Sir Maurice's world pulled itself apart.
His Belle was gone. For taking her own child from her, he felt he deserved no less.
When news of the Queen's impending curse began to spread, Maurice barely paid it any mind. All his happy endings were already gone. Still, he did his best to watch over his people. If he paid particularly close attention that a young maid with the little brown-haired, blue eyed girl that reminded him so much of his own Belle at that age, no one seemed to notice.
When the purple smoke came, Maurice stood over his war table, tipped his head, and hoped that whatever hell he was going to would be a suitable punishment for him for what he had done to his own child.
In Storybrooke Moe French ran the local flower shop. Outside of a few business associates, no one really paid him much mind. He was known around town as a bit of drinker and as someone who had the bad luck of being permanently on Mr. Gold's bad side. That was always a bad place to be, but it was even worse when you owed the man a lot of money.
Mostly, he kept to himself. He was friendly enough, sure, but there always seemed to be something very sad about him. There were rumors as to why, most revolving around a mysterious daughter who had run away years before (or disappeared considering on who was telling the story). People thought that it was the reason why he drank. It was the reason why people let him be.
Mostly, no one really noticed Moe French, and if they saw him give a little girl with blue eyes and brown-hair a flower for free every so often, no one said a word.