Night.
It was nighttime when LeFou awoke. Why was it so late? Had it not just been early morning? Where had Hades sent him? He looked around earnestly, his pupils struggling to adjust to the dim, hazy glow of the full moon. At last, stone markers began to distinguish themselves before his eyes. A-ha! The Lord of the Underworld had sent him straight home, to their small village graveyard. It was the very graveyard where, no less than seven months ago, they had entombed his beloved best friend. LeGume, the family that Gaston came from, was of noble heritage. Unlike the more common folk in town, Gaston had been laid to rest alongside in his parents in the family crypt. LeFou was overjoyed by this fact now; the simply cracking of the heavy stone doors would spare himself from tiresome and laborious digging to retrieve his fallen comrade.
The full moon! What an obvious choice! LeFou made his way toward the mausoleum with ease as his sense of orientation returned quickly as his body adjusted to the time shift. The obstacle that blocked his reunion was no longer one of intangible life and death, but now solely man-made, manufactured chunks of stone. A giant carving above and around the doors detailed the lavish ornamentation that the LeGume family was able to afford. A majestic lion, framed by proud hawks and crowns, adorned with a perfect script reading 'LeGume'. How LeFou had cherished his time growing up their household. Madame LeGume was always busy at the stove, or sewing, or taking care of the children – Gaston, his older brother, Anton, or one of their two sisters, Genevieve and Madeline. Monsieur LeGume was a merchant by day and an avid carpenter in the afternoons. He had helped to build more than half the town, and his popularity led him to have a hand building most of the furniture in those houses as well.
Gaston had never quite caught on to woodworking, preferring instead to join Anton on hunting and fishing trips. LeFou, on the other hand, was nimble and dexterous enough that he took to carpentry quickly, and Monsieur LeGume took delight in showing the young man the ins and outs of carpentry and furniture crafting. It was what had helped Pierre realize his life's ambition, and he had made a comfortable career from the education provided to him by Monsieur LeGume. Why, LeFou had even crafted the chair that sat in the main room at Gaston's tavern as a surprise gift for Gaston's twentieth birthday!
The petite man cracked the heavy stone door open slowly; not for any want of being careful, but because his journey to the Underworld had weakened him so, and he wondered if here was when he would finally collapse from exhaustion. Remembering what his friendship with Gaston meant, he bit his lip and pushed harder, edging the door open even more. He heard a distinct banging sound and a rich, masculine voice echoing off the inner walls of the mausoleum. He pushed with every last ounce of strength, excited beyond belief over what he was hearing. "Could it be?" He whispered under his breath. The full moon broke in, illuminating the caskets and engraved burial markers. "Hello?" "Who's there?" That voice. Pierre knew that deep, bellowing voice. He would know it anywhere. He burst into the mausoleum.
"Gaston? GASTON?!"
A proud, if pale, sight answered LeFou. He was still as statuesque and muscular as ever, the pinnacle of manliness. His hair, a long ebony ponytail, and save for his pointed teeth and red-hued eyes, his face remained the same. He was clad in his formal attire: red tailcoat, tan vest, white shirt and pants, black bow tie. He looked the same as he had the day they laid him to rest; not one day older, not one hair out of place. LeFou was beaming with pride. "That's me, Gaston!" He exclaimed matter-of-factly. "And who might you be, in my family's crypt with me?"
LeFou's smile fell. He had forgot that Hades promised him Gaston but had said that his best friend would have no memory of him. He sighed, then quickly thought of a story. "You're not going to remember me, Gaston," He extended his hand, "my name is Pierre LeFou and I've been your best friend for quite some time now. I heard some odd noises coming from this direction, so I came to check it out. Do you feel all right?"
"I think so, Pierre," Gaston answered.
"You usually call me LeFou."
"I'm afraid I am having trouble placing you, but you look very familiar," Gaston responded, "Thank you for coming to check on me, no one remembers to repay favors like Gaston!"
Gaston stumbled as he walked forward, holding his head and taking himself down to one knee.
"I'm sorry, but I'm so hungry," The lumbering giant of a man announced, with a hiss behind his sharp teeth being more apparent than LeFou had hoped. Luckily, however, he had thought of this before entering the tomb and had bled a few drops of his own blood into his canteen, mixing it with the water.
He handed the canteen to Gaston. "This I all I've got, Gaston. Drink up!"
His best friend grabbed the container and with a mighty swing, gulped down the entire contents of it. Gaston handed the empty container back to LeFou, and immediately the smaller man noticed how much more alive and revitalized Gaston looked. But how would he feed next? What would he need to feed on?
"Delicious!" Gaston said, his voice once again booming. "Thank you again, sir. But now it's home and off to bed so that tomorrow, I might yet make Belle my wife."
LeFou sighed again. "You've been away from town for a while, Gaston. A lot has changed. Belle is living with Prince Adam in a castle past the forest and mists around town. Not to mention, this prince has decided to not only levy a massive tribute on the town, but also closed your tavern and turned it into a library."
"Why would he do such a thing?! Who is this madman?!"
"Because." LeFou knew it was time to come clean. "Gaston, you've been dead."
"Dead? How?!" Gaston sank to his knees as LeFou told him the truth about what exactly had transpired between Gaston and the Beast and how Belle had factored into it. A long hour of silence passed as Gaston processed and pondered the information that had just been shared.
"This is all a hard lot to swallow."
"It certainly is."
Gaston cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I've been thinking…"
"A dangerous pastime!" LeFou interjected. "I know," Gaston went on, "but that crazy prince is Belle's lover, and it seems like with him in charge, things in town have gone sour. We must win back the town, reclaim my tavern and reclaim my girl. He has no right to my property, to my town, and most certainly not to my woman!"
The large, hulking man stomped out of the crypt his heavy, sturdy dress boots, with his small, gaunt friend in tow.
