*I do not own any of these characters*

Chapter 4

It was easy enough to sneak out of the house once Jacques and Louise had retired. Their bedroom was on the opposite side of the house from the back door through which Belle quietly exited. With the mobility provided by her new clothing, Belle was easily able to climb up a tree and jump over the walls that surrounded their courtyard.

She found herself in a dark alley only lit by the moon. In her blue tunic, she was essentially invisible in the shadows. Belle once read in a book that the best color to conceal oneself in the dark was not black, but blue.

Now, she actually believed it.

Exiting the alley and walking onto the empty streets, Belle took in a deep breath. She felt like it was her first real taste of Agrabah. She could smell the scents of various dishes being prepared for dinner across homes in Agrabah. Though she had already eaten earlier due to the fact that her and her compatriots' stomachs hadn't adjusted to local time, the smells still made her salivate.

Pulling the veil over her head, and fingering the embroidery that decorated its edges, she continued down the street. At its end, there were lights and noises of revelry emerging from what must have been the local equivalent of a tavern.

Maybe she could go in and enjoy a drink or some food, like she could back at home. Belle could find a tucked away corner and just observe. For once, she could see the lives of others unfolding before her instead of in words on pages.

Stepping over the threshold of this tavern, she stopped immediately in her tracks.

It became apparent that—unlike in France—women were not welcome in the tavern.

Only men graced the tables and the chairs at the bar. Only men sipped on drinks from a variety of oddly shaped and decorated glasses. Only men reclined on sofas and pillows, picking at a variety of delicacies and delicious dishes.

And only men fell deafeningly silent and turned their gazes toward her when she walked in.

Immediately she backed out, knowing that she was not welcome there. She hastily began walking back the way she came—or so she thought.

She heard voices calling after her in the local dialect—male voices. She picked up her pace, but it was hard to do so in the sandals she had only just learned to walk in.

The voices were closing in. Belle had studied the language enough to know that they were asking of her.

"Stop, pretty lady!"

"We just want to talk with you!"

"And maybe talk some more!"

They all laughed at the last comment, which made her break out into a sprint. At this point she realized she was lost and outnumbered. She began to panic, with sweat gathering on her brow and her breathing becoming labored.

Even with the sun gone, the coolness of night had not replaced the heat of day quite yet.

She turned a corner and found herself in a dead end alley.

Belle turned around to face her pursuers. They had cornered her. Their hungry eyes glimmered in the light of the torches they carried with them. Flashbacks to the fearsome eyes of wolves in a snow-covered forest flooded her mind.

This time she had no savior.

She could only count on herself.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," she tried in her best Arabic. "I seem to be lost. Would you mind letting me pass?"

Their leader silently consulted with the others through nods and meaningful glances.

"Yes, beautiful," he responded with a lascivious look in his eye. "There is, however, a price to be paid for passage."

Belle knew by the smile on his face that the price to be paid was not a monetary one. Fear overcame her. She began to see everything in tunnel vision. She could only focus on a single menacing face or an individual object. Words failed her. She could hardly breathe.

Then she had it. A moment of clarity. She had a plan.

Without thought so much as instinct, she quickly climbed a pile of crates to her right and jumped to grab a wooden beam protruding from the side of the building. With her momentum she was able to swing up and over the men who had cornered her. She fell and rolled onto the street behind them and quickly ran up the street she had just been on.

Belle had a short gain on them, probably due to their shock at her acrobatics. She ran as fast as her legs could take her before she was forced to turn down another corner.

Up ahead she saw a figure, a lone figure.

Maybe they will take pity on me?, she wondered desperately.

The figure turned around right as she crashed into him.

All Belle could see were pair of brown eyes. They were darker than hers and astonishingly large. These eyes were friendly. She knew it the moment she saw them reflect the moonlight.

"Please, sir," she pleaded with him. "You have to help me."