"You bastard! You lying, two-faced bastard!" Belle shouted as she pummeled Gaston with her fists.
"Belle!" He grabbed her wrists. "Belle, stop," said Gaston quietly.
"Don't you tell me to stop!" Somehow, she managed to free her hand, and Belle slapped him as hard as she could. "How could you do that?" she yelled.
"Please try to understand. I had no choice."
"There is always a choice."
"Not this time," he said ominously, and immediately, fear filled Belle's insides as she realized what had happened.
"It's – it's him, isn't it? He saw her?" she whispered as Gaston nodded slowly. "And you … left her with him?!" gasped Belle.
"He said he would kill you," mumbled Gaston. "He said you were guilty of treason."
"He can't kill me. I have power over him."
Gaston laughed once, the sound filled with anxiety. "Belle, no one has power over him; he's the most dangerous sorcerer in all the realms."
"My father wouldn't let him kill me – or anyone else in this castle," she insisted.
"Don't you understand, Belle?" Gaston cried desperately. "Jafar answers to no one, and the only reason he remains under your father's rule is because it is convenient. … Your father watched as Lumiere was tortured and killed for allowing us to free Red."
"Lumiere's d – dead?" Belle whispered, her voice barely audible.
Gaston nodded slowly, and Belle's resolve became even stronger. "Then we have to go; we have to save her."
"That is absolutely out of the question." He grabbed her wrist.
"Let go of me." Belle gave him the deepest glare she could muster, and Gaston gently dropped her hand.
Belle hurried to the door and pulled it open. Her heart leapt as she saw a soldier standing outside, his hand raised in the motion of knocking.
"What are you doing at the princess' door at this hour? Have you no idea what time it is?"
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but he wants to see you."
"Very well," Gaston marched to the door anxiously.
"No, no, not you, sir. He wishes to see the Princess."
"Me?" Belle asked, her bravery seemingly vanishing on the spot.
"Let's go, Belle," Gaston wrapped a protective arm around her waist, but this time, Belle did not shrug him away.
"Begging your pardon, sir, but he said I was to bring her alone." Belle's heart began to beat much louder and faster than it should.
"Belle," Gaston cupped her face and looked deep into her eyes. "You know you don't have to do this," he pleaded; the fear in his eyes was unreal.
"Yes, I do," she said softly.
"You know, for some odd reason, I don't think I believe you."
"But I'm telling the truth!" shouted Red. "You have to believe me."
The man stood up and moved to the door. As he opened it, he whispered, "Bring her to me. Alone," and Red heard a soldier scurry off into the distance as the door closed once more.
"Who is he getting?" Red asked desperately as her mind began to race. Not her, please not her, she thought. Anyone but her.
"I am beginning to grow quite tired of your questions and lies."
"I'm not lying," she repeated.
The man reappeared, his back to Red as he fiddled with the fireplace she hadn't even noticed.
When he turned around, there was a red-hot poker in his hand. "This will hurt a lot less if you don't struggle."
"I'm not afraid of you," Red said bravely as her voice quivered. He was holding it inches from the back of her hand.
"And therein, lies your greatest mistake. You may want to hold still."
Red closed her eyes, waiting for it, willing herself not to scream or beg like a coward. But then the man brought it down slowly, and it was burning into her skin. She bit her tongue so hard it bled, and Red could not help it: she screamed, her head spinning. She could hear the sound of sizzling flesh as the blinding pain sent white spots through her eyes.
Finally, by some miracle, the fire was gone, and Red opened her eyes, gasping for breath, tears pouring down her cheeks, her body shaking and her hand throbbing so violently that she threw up.
"The devil's mark," whispered the man with a smile as he picked up her limp hand and threw the poker to the side of the room, where it landed with an ear-shattering clang. "So everyone will know what kind of monster you are."
Red couldn't speak; she could hardly breathe or hear the chains holding her to the chair clink open. Her entire body was numb as the man lifted her up by her hair. Red's knee gave way, and he let her fall to the floor at his feet. "Now that's more like it."
Red could feel his hot breath near her face as he lifted her chin, so she was stuck looking into his eyes. His knife crept its way along her jawline. "Please," she whispered.
"But I'm having so much fun with you," he said as he kicked her ribs with a heavy boot, now immobilizing her beyond all hope.
Then he picked her up by her collar, pressed his jagged knife against her throat and spun her around. "We have visitors," he whispered.
Red leaned heavily against him, though she did not want to, as the creak of the door told her someone was here. Please, she thought again, let it be anyone but her.
"Red," whispered a familiar voice tainted with horror and sorrow. Belle, she thought, willing her eyes to open and see the concern on the girl's face.
"Where are we going?" Belle asked the soldier as they traveled through another unknown corridor of the castle.
"To Jafar's room, miss."
She gulped as he stopped in his tracks. "The door to the left, Your Majesty."
Belle stepped forward as the door swung open, and she walked past the other two guards and into the dark, musty room lit by one small candle in the even smaller windowsill that sat in the furthest corner.
But none of that mattered because in the middle of the room was Red. Belle's heart ached inside her chest. Red was bruised, bloody and beaten; her leg was bent at an awkward angle; tears were dripping down her nose and cheeks; she looked far too weak to breathe, let alone stand. "Red," whispered Belle as Jafar pressed the blade of his knife to her throat, and a few small beads of blood appeared there. "Please just let her go."
"Now, now, Princess, I'll need you to promise me something."
"Anything," she said immediately.
"Belle, no," Red whispered and a steady trickle of blood began to flow down her neck.
"No more prison breaks from you or anyone else. Promise me that, and I'll let her live."
Red's eyes had closed again, and as Belle looked at her beautiful face, the words came easily. "I promise."
"Thank you, my dear."
It happened so fast, Belle did not have time to take a breath. She was blasted into the wall and held there by an invisible force that felt heavier than bricks. The sorcerer spun Red around and plunged his hand inside her chest. Red's eyes opened in surprise, her mouth wide in shock and terror.
"No!" shouted Belle as he yanked out a throbbing red heart. Her stomach twisted with both fear and nausea as tears fell from her eyes, and Red crumpled to the floor.
"No! You said you would let her live!" she cried as he laughed.
"Oh, she's alive, but I needed a guarantee. Now all I have to do is squeeze." As Jafar clenched his hand tighter around the heart, Red began choking and moaning in pain.
"Stop it!" shouted Belle desperately as Jafar smiled. But he stuck Red's heart inside a pouch and attached it to his belt.
As he walked to the door, Belle fell to the floor, the barrier broken, and she ran to Red's side. "Red," she whispered as tears fell from her eyes. "Red, please wake up." Belle lifted Red's head onto her lap and stroked her hair gently, her head bent over Red's chest, where there was no longer a heartbeat. She intertwined their fingers. "Please," said Belle inaudibly.
"Belle," Red mumbled almost incoherently.
"Yes, yes it's me, Red," she said while breathing a deep sigh of relief as she continued to brush her fingers lightly over Red's hair.
"Belle," sighed Red, and she relaxed slightly but gripped Belle's dress as tight as she could. That was when Belle saw the mark on her hand, red and shiny, disfigured, and rage boiled inside her. "Belle?" she whispered faintly.
"What?" Belle replied softly.
Red opened her eyes weakly and tears began to fall from them. "Don't let – him – take me," she pleaded in a weak voice, returning the pressure on Belle's hand. "Please."
"Oh no, sweetheart, I won't." Belle cried softly as her heart broke. "I won't let him hurt you ever again." She brushed a few strands of hair from Red's forehead, which glistened with sweat.
"Belle?"
"Hm?" That was all she could manage as she looked down at Red, whose eyes were filled with a child-like fear.
"I'm scared," she uttered.
"I know. ... I know you are," Belle's voice cracked. "But I'm here, okay? I've got you."
"Okay..." she whispered as the door burst open, and Red's voice stopped immediately.
"Belle, what have you done?" She spun her head around sharply to see her father, looking both confused and disappointed. He was flanked by Jafar and three other guards, who both began walking forward slowly.
Red clung even tighter to Belle now. "Get her away from there this instant," commanded Maurice, and then there was a pair of strong arms forcing Belle up as Jafar moved towards Red, who cringed away from him and buried her face in Belle's chest.
"No!" she shouted as another guard was interfering and trying to pry her away from Red; they were both hanging on by their fingertips.
"Belle!" Red shouted. "Belle!"
"Get off me!"
"Belle, don't let him take me! Please Belle!" There were so many tears staining her cheeks now that Red's entire face shone brighter.
And then, Belle's hand was hanging in midair as she was picked up by two guards, and Jafar carried Red from the room.
"NO!" she shouted. "Red! Red!"
From somewhere in the distance, she heard a scream, and she struggled even harder, tears falling from her eyes like waterfalls. "Belle, calm down. It's okay; you're safe now," said her father. "Let's get you to bed." The two guards let go of her arms, and she took off at a sprint through the castle, but she could not find Red. No matter how hard she searched, no matter how much she yelled, no matter how much she cried, Red was gone.
When she stumbled into her room, Belle threw open the door and slammed it shut with such force that a picture of her mother fell to the floor, but she did not care.
Belle searched frantically, throwing things left and right until at last, she found it – Red's cloak. It still smelled like her – like pine needles and strawberries; it was still warm, and Belle wrapped her hands into the folds and sank to her knees.
Belle didn't know how long she sat there, but it was a very long time. All she wanted was to fall asleep, to be able to forget the look on Red's face, the fear in her eyes, the way she clung to Belle like life itself. But she couldn't fall asleep, and she would never forget.
It was dark outside when there was a knock at the door. Belle ignored it, and they didn't knock again, so she continued to sit on the hard floor with her hands wrapped in Red's cloak.
An hour passed – or maybe it was a day – or maybe a minute. Why couldn't she fall asleep? Her eyes ached, but her mind continued to torture her.
"Don't let – him – take me."
Stop it, thought Belle.
"I won't let him hurt you ever again."
Stop!
"I'm scared."
Stop!
"Belle! Belle!"
SHUT UP!
Red was screaming – endlessly screaming. She would not stop. It was piercing her heart like daggers.
"STOP!" she shouted aloud, burying her face in her hands as tears fell thick and fast from her already sore eyes. She bent over again, her nails embedded in Red's cloak. "Please..." She groaned. "Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Please." Over and over again, she repeated the words, the sun peeking up over the horizon as she did.
"Just make it stop," Belle whispered hoarsely through cracked lips as her stomach growled. "Just close your eyes."
And she did. Except now, she was seeing it too.
"Belle?" There was a soft voice behind her, though she did not register it, her lips thoughtlessly repeating the words she had been saying for hours.
A hand brushed against her shoulder, turning her and gently trying to pick her up, but Belle fought it, even when she saw it was Mrs. Potts. Belle fought her desperately as the older woman wrapped her arms around the princess. "Ssshh, baby," she whispered. "It's okay, Belle. It's okay." Mrs. Potts was stroking her hair, refusing to let go, and Belle suddenly found herself out of strength. She gave up, and a gentle hand laid her head on Mrs. Potts' chest. "Ssshh..."
"Belle," whispered Mrs. Potts. "Belle, darling, it's all right."
She had to choke out the words, "No, no, it's not. I have to save her. I love her." Belle didn't know what had made her say it. But as soon as she did, she knew she meant it.
"I love her," she repeated, and then she was broken, and Mrs. Potts placed another reassuring kiss on her hair.
"I just want to stop seeing it."
"I know."
"Just make it stop," her voice cracked again. "Please."
Mrs. Potts continued to stroke her hair and whisper in her ear, and though it took a long time, Belle finally fell asleep, her cheeks stained wet, and heart torn in pieces.
Author's note: Okay this is kind of a short chapter compared to my other ones, but I feel like there's enough in it to satisfy you. This chapter was impossibly hard to write because I knew what I wanted to do, but actually writing it was like stabbing myself. Anyways, thank you all SOOO much for your kind words and support. It means the world to me as such an extreme RedBeauty/Rebelle shipper myself. Secondly, I wanted to explain my idea for Jafar as far as this story goes: he's sort of like the Dark One pre-Rumple except that he isn't controlled by a dagger and can break his truce with King Maurice at any time. Also, he doesn't look exactly like Jafar from the movie either because I kind of find that Jafar comical and not so much with the one in this story.
