Chapter one: Once Upon a Time

Belle sighed as she rode Philippe behind Magnifique and his burly rider. Everything about her current situation was wrong, from her quest to her companion and all the way down to the ring on her hand.

"It should be two hours until we get to the next village, I suggest we ride hard, little wife, the sun goes down earlier and earlier these days."

Belle's face flushed, "I am not your wife, Gaston, and I don't mind going faster if it means we don't have to talk."

With that she directed Philippe to gallop and set off past the hunter. He watched her go in amusement before setting off after her. He would catch up with her in no time and make sure she didn't veer off course.

It had been two years since he had killed the Beast and their world had been damned. Apparently the Beast had been a man, more than that, a Prince, who had been cursed by an enchantress to be a monster until he could earn love with only his personality to recommend himself. When Belle had told him that he had laughed, he knew from his own experience that he barely took notice of ugly people. Of course he had sobered up quickly when Belle had recounted the Enchantress' message that had been revealed to her: as the Beast wasn't able to break the spell, all that were faithful to him would become corrupt. What this meant had become apparent quite quickly as their village and their neighbouring villages suffered attacks by the now feral former servants of the Beast, damned to neither be dead or alive, but with a hunger for flesh and the ability to pass on their affliction to their surviving victims.

Gaston felt for his rifle at his side and bow at his back and was reassured at their touch. These were dangerous times. Since the first attack, he had made sure that they had never been caught unawares again and his efforts had caught on as the neighbouring villages followed suit in turning themselves into walled off fortresses, with only able-bodied hunters and the like permitted to go out and hunt for the meagre remaining game and to take down as many ferals as possible.

The night was fast approaching when Belle and Gaston arrived at the gate of a neighbouring village. It was a high and solid gate with some angled spikes around the entrance, all the better to skewer any ferals that tried to force the gate down directly.

"Who are you?" A loud voice boomed from above.

They looked up and saw some watchmen peer down at them from their post.

"My name is Gaston LeGume and this is my wife. We are travelling to a village too far to reach by nightfall."

Belle could see the watchmen look suspicious at this. No doubt this was due to the strain on their resources. Accepting more mouths to feed indefinitely was no longer the norm for even their own friendly village.

"I have brought game in exchange for shelter."

Gaston had saved his trump card until last, he knew other villages were not as fortunate as his own and had probably suffered the loss of skilled huntsmen during the relentless attacks. Trying not to think about his hunting party and their guaranteed struggle without him as lead, he lifted up the corpses of some wild hare he had caught earlier and dangled them as proof.

The relief on the watchmen's faces was obvious even from this distance and Gaston dismounted as the gate started to open. Heading over to Belle, he made to help her down, but she was already boots on the ground, leading Philippe to the widening entrance.

"You have to play your part," Gaston admonished her through a forced smile conscious of onlookers.

"I'm wearing the ring aren't I?" Belle quipped as a stablehand made his way out to meet them and take their horses. The boy, maybe around 12-years-old Belle guessed, pulled off their bags and handed them to Gaston without a word or any eye contact.

"Hello, I'm Belle, thank you for your help."

The boy seems surprised at being addressed so informally by a lady but stuttered out a timid your welcome, before going completely red and hurrying away.

Belle made to follow the stablehand to help, but Gaston grabbed her arm.

"Let the boy do his job and try to act like a respectable woman."

Belle felt her face flush but allowed Gaston to lead her towards the waiting watchmen.

Handing over the hares, the watchmen were quick to engage Gaston in talks of snares and their own prowess with a bow before apologising for talking of such things in front of a lady. Belle wanted to reassure them that that sort of talk didn't bother her at all, and in fact her father had been responsible for modifying and creating some effective weapons to combat their current foe, but she was aware of Gaston trying to catch her eye and knew what he would say to that.

"It's awfully kind of you to take us in," She said simply and the conversation become dull as the watchmen fussed over a woman having to be outside their gate and how she was lucky to have such a skilled husband to protect her.

Belle wanted to show them her own gun she had hidden under her dress, but so far in her day's journey with Gaston she had managed to keep it hidden and she didn't want it confiscated.

As they were being led towards the inn, Belle noticed that many houses and shops had been boarded up and only about half the buildings in the village square had the glow of firelight in their windows. A few people were walking around the streets and talking, but it felt subdued and empty to her. This village had obviously suffered great loss and she suddenly found herself overwhelmed with feelings of guilt and grief for the part she had played in it.

Pretending to be the meek wife that Gaston had always wanted, she let her side of the conversation falter as she tried to push back her emotions.

Gaston watched Belle curiously as she stopped talking with the watchmen, it was unlike her to be rude so he looked around at what might have caused her silence and spotted it immediately. He could've laughed. The nearest store to the inn was a bookstore and it was boarded up and had the look of something long abandoned. How well he knew her.

"Thank you again, what are your names?" Belle seemed to snap out of it and smiled her lovely smile at their guides, completely disarming them. Gaston would've laughed but he found that their reactions annoyed him. Belle was supposed to be his wife, fake or not and he felt jealous especially as she never smiled at him like that.

"Oh… I'm Walt and this is Peter," The older of the two almost stuttered. He had never seen a smile so beautiful before. Not that his wife had to hear about this opinion.

"Thank you, Walt, Thank you, Peter," Belle said in an almost sing-song-way as she matched the name with the face.

"You're very welcome, ma'am," Walt said just as Peter said, "Anytime, ma'am."

Gaston eyeballed them as they nodded and waved the hares at him with a sheepish smile and hurried inside to explain to the innkeeper the situation.

So it was that Belle and the now grumpy Gaston made their way into the welcoming atmosphere of the inn, with the warm fire and friendly chattering.

By the time they made their way up to the counter, the innkeeper- an older man with greying hair and large eyeglasses was beside himself with gratitude and good-will. It seemed that these villagers hadn't had fresh meat in quite a while, Gaston thought congratulating himself on his clever idea with the hares. As well as feeling pleased with himself, it was the sight of a full tankard of beer being pushed towards him that saw his spirits fully restored.

While Gaston was making small talk, Belle made to move to talk to the nearest table of what looked like a pair of sisters who were peering at her in a friendly but shy way, before she was stopped by Gaston's arm snaking around her waist and pulling her into his conversation with the innkeeper.

"Yes, this is my little wife. We've only just gotten married and we are here now because I promised her that we would visit her sister a few villages over, she's worried about her you see."

Belle didn't know why she was being used as a prop or why Gaston felt the need to spew out their agreed on story, but she absolutely resented it.

As Gaston drained his tankard in one go, and the innkeeper hurriedly refilled it again, it suddenly dawned on her- there was nothing like sympathy to make someone generous and Gaston was milking it.

Just as Belle was contemplating making a scene, a perfect escape came in the form of a young maid with curly blonde hair, announcing that their room was ready, should they want to freshen up before dinner.

"Perfect," Belle said untangling herself from Gaston's arm before adding, "Oh don't worry about the bags, my husband will get them." Without a glance back at Gaston, she followed the maid up the stairs, knowing very well that he would be annoyed, he didn't like to take orders from women.

Seeing that his tankard would no longer be bottomless without Belle and her doe eyes, he thanked the innkeeper and muttered something about wives before following Belle's lead. He wasn't happy at his gravy train being stopped short, but he reasoned that she probably had acted out because she really did want to freshen up- she was a woman after all. Congratulating himself on acting a perfect gentleman, he hastened up the stairs, lest he lose track of where the women went and walked into the wrong room.

He needn't have worried though because halfway up the second flight of stairs he heard the unmistakable sound of Belle's startled cry.