Thank you all for waiting so patiently for this update. I wrestled with finishing this story for quite sometime. However, the excitement that some people gave me made me feel so thrilled to continue. I tried to write a long chapter because you all waited so patiently! It's your positive reviews that keeps me going! Thank you all and enjoy!

Evening

Belle sits at the kitchen table a small candle next to her. It burns feverantly, flickering as the open window glides into the small kitchen area. She can hear the trees slowly swish as the wind picks up howling more. She holds the torn, tattered book inside her hands. Her fingers graze against the brown worn pages. Others, would have over-looked this book because of its worn appearance. However, Belle found it's beauty and found it even more intriguing because of its tattered facade. She believed the more worn, the more torn, the more secrets were held within it's pages.

That is what drew her attention to the small displaced book. It was kept in-between two beautifully drawn books. She had read most of the books on the shelf but oddly had over looked this particular one. She felt sadness for this book because she knew no one would read it. She quickly grabbed the book opening it up reading it's prologue. It grabbed her attention immediately and she knew she had to have it. The book keeper, a great friend of hers, was pleased to let her keep it.

"No one ever reads it anyway." He shrugs.

He slowly sweeps all the dust collecting on his floor. Belle held this sparkle in her eye as he handed her the book. She couldn't begin to explain how thrilled she had been to be given such a beautiful gift.

She immediately rushed home, with the eggs in the basket, she had originally been sent to town for that reason. Her father had told her that they would have quite a delightful dinner this evening. Belle loved the idea, in fact, she was so very pleased to have the opportunity to speak with her father. She had a never ending mind, one, which constantly filled to the brim with questions. Unlike her mother, her father believed that Belle had the right to question things. She craved knowledge wondering about things no one else seemed to care about. Not Belle, she wondered about every little aspect of the unknown.

Therefore, she's sitting here with a book in her hand. She's awaiting her father's return from his studies. The darkness has taken the place of the sun and it's beginning to be quite chilly. She walks over to the fireplace poking it's lumber hoping to conjure up more heat. It is no use because her skin still prickles with cold.

She is jolted when she hears the door slowly ramble. She turns her awareness to the door noticing her father walking in. His grey hair static from the brisk air. His cheeks rosy and skin a flame. She stands up walking towards him but stops in her tracks. Behind her father is Gaston, the brutish man that she met only a week before. The one that was anything but polite to her.

"Belle, my darling what is troubling you?" Her father asks.

He notices her soft hazel eyes fill with an unknown emotion. She dismisses Gaston and turns to her father a fake smile plagues her lips.

"Papa, it is nothing. I only wish you would have told me we'd have a guest."

Gaston walks towards Belle taking her hand into his. With a devilish grin he brings her small hand up to his thin line of lips. He kisses the top of her hand and it feels like it's burning.

"Miss. O'Hara, always a pleasure."

He lets go of her hand and she pushes the top of it against her blue skirt wiping away his displeasure. Belle's father decorates the table adding his finest cups and plates. He seems rather nervous and eager all placed into one.

"Gaston, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Belle chokes out.

Her nerves and mind swoops her away as she sees her father bring out that cup. The one cup that holds the greatest memories to her. It was when she was five. She was with her mother in the kitchen her father by the fireplace writing down his studies. She was so happy then her family complete and unbroken. Her mother was making some tea just like any other day. She looked up and suddenly her mother was shaking blood pouring from her mouth. The vision still haunts her waking her in the night like a phantom. The last thing she remembers is a small cup falling from her mother's hands. A cup that was chipped in the process. Her father never threw it out because it held so much value. It was the last thing her mother touched before she perished. Belle would sometimes wake up at night finding her father by the fire, the chipped cup in his hands, and he'd be sobbing wishing it held some feeling of his wife.

He hadn't brought the cup out until now and that scared her more than anything.

"Gaston will be joining us for dinner. We have much to celebrate,"

Belle notices the flicker of delight in Gaston's eerie eyes and she cannot help but feel her stomach turn to knots.

"Lovely," Belle murmurs.

Her father sets the table quite nicely. In fact, he hasn't done something this elaborate sense the lost of her mother. She cannot help but feel like a fool everyone else knowing what's occurring, everyone but her. Her father finally sits down at the table. Gaston next to him and Belle on the opposite side. In the middle of the table are fat gooey rolls steamed with butter and sugar. A pot of tea is steaming to the right of the rolls along with some freshly made chicken. Her father must have used one of their fattest ones because it smells and looks delightful. They begin to fill their plate with food and Belle simply watches.

"No appetite my darling?" Her father asks.

Belle simply shakes her head. She places the book she's been reading on the table next to her. It's her comfort, for, she knows something sullen is about to come.

"What is that you're reading?" Gaston clears the silence.

His beady eyes dart to the glorious book beside her. Her face lightens for a moment he notices immediately that she is quite attracted to books. He remembers her in the valley a book perched in her hand as if it were gold. He looks at her now, awaiting her response. She looks so different dressed in everyday garb opposed to the fine silk she was wearing that day. Her loose waves of tawny tresses pulled back yet slight strands fall along her oval face. Those hazel eyes blaze through him as she begins to speak,

"A book that was given to me."

"My Belle is a smart one, you'll see, she reads all the time."

"It fills the mind with so much folly," Gaston says as he places a cup of wine up to his lips.

He's teasing her she can tell from the darker hue of his eyes.

"I must demur, politely of course, how can one learn about the world without reading about it first?"

"It is all about experience I assure you." Gaston coos lifting the glass from his lips. "I'm sure a man as successful as your father will explain that to you."

"I assure you my father is delighted by both experiences and the knowledge he obtains through written literature."

"So about these rolls, they are delicious are they not?" Belle's father interjects.

He can feel a heated debate about to take way. He knows his daughter has always possessed a loose tongue. That scares him beyond belief because in an era where women didn't have the right to speak she spoke quite often.

"They're lovely papa,"

Belle places her hand on her book trying to calm herself down. She takes a piece of a roll just for formality even though she's feeling quite nauseous.

"Belle, now for the news I have for you."

Belle looks up at her father nodding her head indicating she's listening.

"You see Gaston here has informed me that my research is needed elsewhere." He pauses clearing his throat. "His father works with the university as you're quite aware of." Belle nods her head. "They feel as if I should be one of the anthropologist that travels with them to the new land. One by the name of Agrabah."

"Agrabah," She repeats.

Belle's eyes light up with the mention of new foreign places. Her heart begins to patter faster, "Papa, this is wonderful news! When are we to embark?"

Belle's father places his hands across the table holding his daughter tightly.

"I am to leave as early as tomorrow evening. It has been quite the rushed voyage."

"I should begin to pack immediately," Belle says with a smile.

She leaps up from her seat but is kept in place by Gaston. His grasp is rather tight on her hand and she turns to stare at him. "Forgive me Gaston, I did not thank you for this glorious opportunity."

"Do not thank me yet Belle. Your father hasn't mentioned the rest of his plans."

Belle turns her attention to her father who is quite silent.

"Papa,"

"Well it is to only be me who leaves Belle. You are to stay here and be a wife. Gaston has asked for your hand in marriage."

Hours Later

Belle lays in bed yet sleep is the farthest thing that is on her mind. How can she even close her eyes with the thoughts of her father leaving. Not only will she lose the most important person in her life, she will also gain a monster, a beast, in his stead. She never pictured herself as a wife. In fact, she couldn't understand how the women of her era simply thought about bearing children and cleaning up after their daft husbands. Oh how she dreamed of more. She dreamed of foreign lands animals to which she'd only read about. Places that would cause her eyes to question their sanity. Places like Agrabah.

Her father had told her that he would be placed under the protection of the sultan to learn about their culture. She could only imagine the things he would see the people he would encounter.

The thought of this foreign land causes her palms to tingle with anticipation. She cannot...no she refuses to be Gaston's poor little wife. The thought of him makes her repulsed. He didn't have anything in common with her. He couldn't even understand her purest love...her love for books. How could he possibly love her?

She had told her father this. He shushed her, assured her that love takes time. In time she would learn to love Gaston. She wouldn't dare say that he never grew to love her mother. She wouldn't cause him that much pain. So like most things she took it. She allowed him to talk about their customs and how she was needed to fulfill her duty as a woman. She needed to be properly brought up in their society.

She thinks of Gaston holding her, his touch rough and menacing, and it causes a tear to trickle down her cheek. She wipes it away roughly. She had learned after her mom's death that crying did nothing. To ease her pain she takes out her book reading about the dashing protagonist and how he'd stop at nothing to save his people.

She drifts away to the sound of the words inside her head. It eases her endless thoughts and brings her to the beautiful awakening of dreams. Dreams filled with foreign lands, dashing strangers, dreams of Agrabah.

The Next Morning

Belle places the cloak over her hair as she looks at the ship docked. She had come here to see her father off. He had held her head gently kissing her forehead. She had whispered she'd miss him more than anything. He assured her that he'd be back in a month's time welcoming his new son to their family. Gaston had gone with them to the departure. He had watched them and it causes her to shudder as his eyes witnesses their most intimate of moments.

She watches as her father walks up the boat waving to her as his response. Gaston doesn't calm her nor does he touch her thankfully. He simply nods his head. His ebony hair flying through the wind as he turns to stare at her. She looks lovely covered in that red hood her wisps of tawny hair collecting in the wind. Her lips are ripe and her eyes slightly damp.

"All will be well Belle, we're going to build a wonderful life together."

"Know this Gaston," she bitterly says. It causes him to become off guard his bushy eyebrow raises, "The last thing I ever want to be is your pitiful wife."

She turns to walk away but he grabs her pulling her closer. She tries to remove his grip but it's tight. Her eyes blaze with anger as he stares down at her.

"You will learn to respect me. I own you now." His words are like daggers. She leans in closer to Gaston,

"I belong to no one,"

Belle loosens his grip and storms off her red cloak dragging behind her.

She's finally out of his glare when she stops walking. She hides behind a massive wooden post placing her back against the wood. Her lips tremble as she tries to compose herself. The sky is grey and she can hear the waves lap up against the docks. She can hear a seagulls mournful cry telling its own tale of woe.

She removes her hood pushing strands of hair from her face. This shouldn't be where her life ends...it cannot be.

She hears sailors calling to one another in the distance. They sing songs of distant lands and the women they're leaving behind. They're hauling cargo into the bottom of the ship. Most of them seem rather strong and tan. She notices young man who looks nothing like anyone she's ever seen before. His skin the color of honey his dark dark, darker than any color she's ever seen. She notices he's lugging most of the cargo, carrying it along his muscular chest.

Without a single thought she rushes towards the opened boat's doors. She places her hood up dodging the cargo and the muscular sailors carrying it. Her heart beats rapidly as the sun disappears and she makes it inside the ship. The smell of sea water and male odor wafts through the enclosed space. She catches her breath as she places her body against the wall. After a couple of seconds she tip toes throughout the ship trying to find a place to rest, a place she could be unnoticed.

She hears the footsteps of sailors along with their loud banter and she hides inside a room. She closes the door immediately backing away slowly. She is thrilled that she's done it, she's created her own destiny! Writing her own unique story.

"What are you doing here?" She hears.

As she turns around her eyes widen and her stomach drops to the floor beneath her,