Another Petal
Rated PG
Disclaimer – All characters within the following story are owned by the Walt Disney Company.
A/N – This is a bit of an offbeat AU, one of the many that have gone through my head over the course of the last eleven years, but one of the few I've actually written out. Bare with me, as this is my first solid attempt with present tense.
What if Gaston hadn't planned for Maurice's incarceration?
Papa lays quietly asleep, the fever now well gone. I can't help but breath a sigh of relief, thankful that he will likely survive the night. I think back to the conversation we had earlier, as I step into the dark hallway, closing Papa's bedroom door most of the way. "You love him, don't you?" he said. I didn't really have an answer then. Nothing better than "I suppose." But 'I suppose' didn't seem solid enough, for him or myself. But the more I think about it, the more I know that yes, I do. So why did I have such trouble saying it aloud? Perhaps it's because it sounds of something straight out of one of my books.
I step into my room for the first time in what seems an eternity, glancing around. While it is where I grew up, it doesn't seem quite like home anymore. There's something missing. But now isn't the time to dwell on it. Exhaustion plagues me, and I know my mind will not tolerate many more waking hours.
I crawl into bed, closing my eyes. Despite all, I realize I'm very much awake. Tossing for several more minutes, I throw the covers aside, reaching for the saddlebag. Producing the magic mirror, I hold it before me as I sit at my window. The moon is just beginning to rise, and my thoughts drift from the cottage to the castle beyond the trees, wondering just what he's doing right now. Sleeping, no doubt, but that peaceful image might placate my restless mind. Holding the mirror up before me, I say clearly, "I'd like to see the Beast, please." The mirror crackles and sparks, the reflection of the moon fading into a mist of green as the mirror heeds my command. But soon the sparkling stops, with only the reflection of the moon staring back at me. I suppose, perhaps, the magic of the mirror only works within the enchantment of the castle. Next week, I'll go back...when Papa is feeling well again...
~*~*~*~*~
The morning sun shines brightly through my window, but it isn't the sun waking me. I lay still for a moment before rolling over. Papa is smiling at me, with almost a look of amazement. "What?" I ask.
"I just can't believe you're finally home," he replies. I sit up slowly, pulling the covers aside.
"You act like I've been gone for ages."
"Feels that way." I nod; it does feel like a lifetime ago when he left for the faire. So much happened in those few days. It suddenly occurs to me that there is a face I haven't missed that I will no doubt see very soon.
It isn't long before I've made Papa go back to bed, and I'm off to the village for a book. It will be hard going back to such a small collection, but maybe he'll have something new. I'm greeted by a few strange glances as I make my way through town toward the square, praying inwardly that I won't come face to face with Gaston just yet.
There is a crowd gathered in front of the bookshop; but even more strange is the fact that the triplets are staring as much as anyone else. Now while it's strange that so many people would suddenly be fascinated with the bookshop, it's more so when *they* are. Reading is not exactly their strong suit. So what are they all so interested in? I finally get through the crowd, catching sight of a notice posted on the town board.
Hear Ye Hear Ye ~
By Royal decree, there is to be a masque to celebrate the return of the royal High Prince to the castle tomorrow eve. The attendance of all within the kingdom is requested.
I feel my heart stop. Was this why the mirror could not find the Beast last night? Could it be that my departure from the castle was mere moments before the royal family returned to stake their claim? I step back, not really conscious of where I'm going or what I'm doing...I need to go. To get home. I will never be able to explain to them why I am on the verge of an emotional breakdown. I turn and run from the crowd, from the square. I have to escape. He's gone. Had I been there, maybe I could have helped him escape the royal family. I'm suddenly pulled back, a firm grip encasing my arm. "Belle! There you are!" Gaston's booming voice and egotistical grin only do more damage to my mood. I manage to pull away without a word, sprinting over the bridge and into the cottage. Another two steps, and I hit the floor.