CHAPTER 2

Two years to find true love. A sentence that has haunted Gaston's dreams every night since. Almost a year and a half has passed since that horrible night. A year and a half of living in the woods outside of a new village far from the one he used to call home. He used to love the sight of his own reflection, but now, he would do anything to avoid it.

Gaston huffed as he split another piece of wood with his axe, sweat dripping from his brow as he barely managed to keep it held up. There was once a time when he could do this all day with little to no effort, but not anymore. Growling in frustration, the once handsome man threw his axe at a nearby tree, sinking the blade into the trunk. He took a moment to stare at what he had done, once again rising his anger. "I could have cut down that tree with one swing." He said to himself. "No-one cuts wood like Gaston!" He growled again before picking his cloak up from the ground and storming inside his cabin. Something he had to buy rather than build his self, only for lack of physical ability. Life had truly turned to a nightmare for the once powerful man. After entering his house with a poorly attempted slam, Gaston halted in anger at the lack of crushing sound. Unable to control his urges, he shot back to the door, opening and slamming it with rage over and over. "Break, you stupid door!" He screamed, but the door did not break. Refusing to accept defeat, Gaston stomped over to his table, grabbing his gun and letting off a single shot that sent him crashing into the wall behind him. "HA! Nobody breaks a door like Gaston!" he said with ridiculous pride, now that the door had become splinters on the grass. He stood to his feet before placing his gun back on the table. "It won't be long before I get my strength back." But he wouldn't get his muscles back. Even after constant exercise for over a year straight, he didn't show even the slightest bit of muscle gain. "I'll just keep doing what I'm doing and I'll be bigger than ever."

After grabbing the hunting bag that sat next to his gun, he reached in to pull out a fresh killed rabbit. That's all his kill ever consisted of anymore. While he was still taller than his old friend Lefou, he couldn't bring himself to try and take on anything worth being proud of. All it would take is one wrong move and he really would be dead. Although he constantly told himself that it was simply being smart, deep down, he knew it was nothing more that pure cowardice. Thoughts of hunting always took him back to memories of his old home. A mass collection of antlers and hunting trophies, three beautiful triplets annoying him with constant attempts at trying to claim his heart, and a tavern full of men singing songs of his greatness. If only he had taken one of them for his wife instead of perusing Belle…maybe none of this would have ever happened. His thoughts were stopped by the sound of something hitting the floor. The hour glass. Many times, he had turned it over in hopes of keeping the sand at the top, but it was useless. No matter how many times he messed with it, the magic sand would not change. "Dirty witch! How dare she do this to me. When I get my strength back, I swear I'm going to find her an-"

"Bonjour" he was cut off from a voice that came from outside. It sounded like a man. "Is anybody home?" it came again.

Immediately Gaston went for the red scarf on his chair, immediately putting it around his face to hide his hideous appearance. He grabbed the bow that stood in the far corner before heading for the window, doing his best to avoid door-less entrance. He cursed himself for destroying it. "I'm just looking to water my horse." The voice sounded closer, and strangely, familiar. Using his bow, Gaston lifted the curtain from the window, giving him a full view of the man outside. "LeFou?" he said. Completely shocked at the sight of his old friend. Someone he never expected to see again.

"I can see you." LeFou said. Noticing there was someone at the window. The curtain was dropped before he could make out a face.

"Go away." Gaston coughed, doing his best to mask his voice. A terrible attempt. "There's no water here."

"But-" The small man raised an eyebrow. "There's a barrel near the door." The barrel, how could he forget about the large barrel right outside his cabin?! This could be bad if Gaston didn't think of something quick. LeFou had to stop, taking another look. "Hey. What happened to your door?" He scratched his head confused.

"NEVER MIND THE DOOR, YOU IDOIT!" Gaston quickly coughed again, realizing that he had forgot to mask his voice. "I mean, I'm in the process of building a new one. Yeah. And that's not water...it's…pee." Gaston couldn't help but send his palm to meet his forehead. He was starting to believe the Enchantress had taken his wit along with his muscles.

"Pee?" LeFou spent the next few seconds switching his view between the window and the large barrel, completely confused. "Really? You fill that up yourself.?" LeFou asked. Sarcasm practically dripping down his mouth.

"I'm gonna snap you in half. You fat little-" Gaston said with what he believed to be a whisper. Doing his best not to run out and wring the little man's neck. "Yes. It's pee. You want your horse drinking pee, little man? Then be my guest. Send him on over, see if he likes the taste!"

"He seems to be doing fine with it." The horse was now drinking from the barrel full of 'pee.' This was really starting to get old. "Look, I'll only be a minute." LeFou started to make his way inside. "Let me just sit down for a minute and I'll be on my way.

"NO!" A crash came from inside as Gaston jumped back, running into a small table off to the side.

"You know, you sound really familiar. Have we met somewhere before?" The sound of his boots became the sound of pure evil as he entered the cabin. Gaston turned his back as a last attempt to hide his face, listening as the horrifying footsteps came closer and closer. The two were once again in the same room, for the first time in years. "No, I can't say that we have. I would remember if we had."

LeFou took a moment to glance around the house, noticing the gun that was sitting on the table. "You sure?" he asked before taking a long hard glance at the gun, quickly placing it as Gaston's. Who was this man? And why did he have Gaston's gun? Something wasn't right.

"Of course, I'm sure!" Gaston spat back. "Are you saying that I'm too stupid to remember if I had met someone before? Is that what you're saying to me?" He was no fully offended. Nobody calls Gaston stupid. Nobody.

"No I'm not calling you stupid...but I am calling you a thief!" Without giving the man any chance to react, LeFou launched his little round self onto the table, grabbing the large gun and aiming it right at the thief's head! "ALRIGHT, DROP THE BOW!"

Gaston turned to the sound, finding himself staring down the barrel of his hunting rifle, enraged that it was being held by his old companion. "LeFou, put. The rifle. Down." He said with pure anger.

"I GIVE THE ORDERS HERE! I was taught by the best. So, if you don't drop that bow, I'll blow your head clean off your shoulders!" Just then, the table began to wobble, forcing LeFou to turn his attention to his feet so that he wouldn't fall. Before he could raise his eyes, the round little man was hit with a fierce tackle, crashing both him and the thief through the table! Rolling around on the floor, the two fought for control of the rifle, cursing the other with every attempt. "Give it to me!" the so-called thief yelled.

"Over my dead body!" LeFou responded. The next thing to come out of his mouth was a scream as he felt the pain of jagged teeth chomping into his arm, forcing him to release his hold on the gun. The Thief stood, raising his arms in victory. "HA. Take that you puny little- GAH!" Gaston was forced to the ground as a short fat foot slammed into his groin. The sound of pitter pattering boots could be heard running across the floor as LeFou rushed himself over to the Bow. Gaston quickly tried to regain his footing, doing his best to fight through the agonizing pain in his loins. Finally, the two faced each other, weapons in hand. "Put it down, LeFou?" Gaston ordered.

"How do you know my name, Thief? Where did you find that gun?" LeFou said. Demanding he answer.

"The gun is mine, LeFou."

"That gun belongs to Gaston!" He admitted in defeat before slowly lowing his weapon. Feeling he had no other choice if he wanted to bring this pointless fight to an end.

"You expect me to believe that?" LeFou responded in laughter. "Gaston is dead. Even if he weren't, he's at least 4 times your size."

Gaston dropped his weapon, looking his old friend in the eye as he tried to catch his breath. "It's really me, LeFou. After everything we've been through together, can you really stand there and tell me you don't recognize me? You of all people? I wasn't killed that day at the castle. Only changed. His words brought a long silence over the room. Forcing his old friend to take a good long look at the man standing before him. The man he had once called friend, having worshiped the very ground he walked on. The man he idolized. "…Gaston?..." slowly, he lowered his bow. His eyes wide with shock when realizing that he was speaking the truth. It really was him. The man standing before him…was Gaston. "It really is you." He couldn't believe his eyes. "How did you survive? What happened to you?"

"I was cursed. By an enchantress." It sounded ridiculous when saying it out loud. But it was the truth." Once again, a silence fell over the room as LeFou tried to gain control of his thoughts. He eyes now focused solely on the scarf that hid Gaston's face.

"Show me your face." LaFou said. More so telling rather than asking. He needed to see.

Realizing that it had to be done, Gaston took a deep breath. "Fine. Just this once." It took only a moment for him to remove the scarf, but a few for him to meet his old friend's eyes. LeFou was horrified at the sight. Doing his best to try and speak. "Ga…Gaston." Was all he could get out before his body hit the floor…having lost conscious.