When the Petal Falls
Summary: Maurice works for Prince Adam at the castle to support his wife and young daughter. He is cursed with the rest of the castle when the Enchantress crashes the party, unable to return to his family. Soon after his wife succumbs to her sickness and passes away. Belle is placed in an orphanage for the next thirteen years, until she runs away in search of a father she barely remembers. She vows to find him and bring him home, but she gets more than she bargained for when she stumbles upon a lonely castle surrounded by winter.
A/N: Sorry that this update is later than usual. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it. :)
Chapter Nine
Evening was falling as the servants entered the west wing. Prince Adam immediately picked up on their nervousness, but it did not annoy him as much as it used to. Up until Belle's sudden arrival at the castle Adam relished the solitude, preferring to remain alone rather than endure the hushed whispers and sidelong looks. He knew they blamed him for their cursed existence. He was the one responsible, after all. He knew most of them had families they'd worked to support, and those families had forgotten them because of the spell. He tried not to think about it too much because it only caused the guilt to rise up from the hole in his heart he tried to keep buried as much as possible. Whenever it threatened to rise up he tried to busy himself with activities, but it rarely worked. He was doomed to feel the pain of himself and everyone around him.
He looked up from the book he'd been reading and tried to appear nonchalant as he mumbled, "Yes?"
As usual, Lumiere was the one to speak up. He'd become the voice of the servants because he was the boldest among them. He knew the mantel clock was too timid and the teapot was too afraid she'd anger him. There were others, but those were the three main ones who endured his presence. Adam didn't mind. The fewer people he had to put up with, the better.
"Forgive our intrusion, master," Lumiere began, as he so often did when he had news that he did not want to say. "But we felt it was important to tell you about the selections the young mademoiselle has taken to her room."
If Adam had eyebrows in his beastly form, he would have risen one in obvious contempt. "What about them?"
"We do not mean to overstep our bounds," Lumiere hastily explained, waving his candlestick arms in front of him. "We know you told the girl she had free reign in the library, but the books she took…well, we are afraid she may be getting wise about the curse."
At this Prince Adam frowned and abandoned both his book and his seat and stood up, beginning to pace. "Why would you say that? Which books did she take?"
"A spellbook," Cogsworth said, speaking up at last. "Maurice informed us this morning that she has begun to read one of the few spell books in the library. Out of all the books she could have chosen from, why did she choose that?"
Adam picked up on the clock's worried tone, and tried not to appear as though this news unsettled him. "She was probably looking for something different. One does not usually run across a spell book. Her curiosity must have gotten the better of her."
Lumiere and Cogsworth exchanged doubtful looks.
"Why would Maurice come to have this information? Has he visited Belle?" The thought did not sit well with Adam, though he did not know why.
"Well, he did meet her during her first day here. He came with us when we…"
"Gave her a bedroom," Adam finished with a dark undertone. It had always been one of his pet peeves when one of his employees blatantly disobeyed a direct order.
"Yes," Lumiere replied, his voice wavering for the first time. "Nevertheless, he has…taken a liking to the young woman, and visited her last night. That was when he noticed which books she took to her room."
"Why would Maurice take a liking to her? Doesn't he spend most of his days in that broom closet of his?"
"He must have been feeling lonely, cooped up as he was. Having someone new in the castle was bound to pique his interest."
Something about the candelabra's tone made Adam frown. There was more to that story. He stopped pacing and raised himself up to his full and considerable height, his gaze bearing into Lumiere's in that way that announced he was going to find out the secret one way or another.
It worked.
"Master…you must forgive us for keeping this from you sooner. Maurice was afraid if you knew…well, it might drive the girl away."
"Why is Maurice so concerned? Since when did he become involved with the events of the castle?"
"Well," Lumiere began, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. He kept throwing Cogsworth meaningful looks, but the mantel clock clearly was not going to help. He took a step back and gestured for Lumiere to continue. Adam made a mental note to speak to his stable hand the first chance he got. "Maurice is so concerned about the girl because she happens to be his daughter."
Silence settled over the room. Prince Adam gaped at his servants, not quite comprehending what he'd just been told. He opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure what to say. Finally, in a voice that dripped with confusion, he said, "Belle is the pitchfork's daughter?"
At this both Lumiere and Cogsworth frowned. "Obviously he was a man before he was a pitchfork," Lumiere said before he could stop himself. Catching himself, he stared up at Adam uncertainly but Adam paid him no heed.
"I did not know Maurice ever had a daughter." It was like finding out that the ocean was green, not blue.
"Yes," Lumiere replied. "He was married before the curse and sent the money he earned down to the village to support his wife and daughter. The girl was only three when we were cursed, from what I understand."
"So how can he be sure that Belle is his daughter? He has not seen the girl in…" he trailed off as he suddenly realized that he had no idea how long the curse had been in place.
"Fourteen years, five months, and two days," Cogsworth finished dryly.
"Right. How can he be so sure? Maybe Belle only reminds him of his daughter."
"His daughter's name was Belle," Lumiere replied softly.
"And supposedly she is the spitting image of Maurice's wife," Cogsworth added, almost as an afterthought.
"But…" Adam trailed off, still trying to wrap his mind around the possibility that Belle was related to one of his cursed servants. "Does she know who he is? Could that be the real reason she is here? Is she trying to rescue her father?"
Lumiere shook his small, golden head, looking as sad as Adam had ever seen him. "No, Master. Belle has no idea who Maurice really is. Maurice refuses to tell her."
Adam did not know why that news sent a shiver of relief down his spine, but he tried not to let Lumiere or Cogsworth know. He forced a look of solemn contemplation on his face as he regarded the two servants who still looked uncertainly up at him.
"Why would he not want to tell her? Shouldn't he be glad to have his daughter back in his life?"
"I could not say, Master. Perhaps after all this time, he has grown accustomed to being alone."
Cogsworth stepped forward though he was careful to stay a foot behind Lumiere as he tentatively asked, "Are you going to tell the girl?"
Adam thought about telling Belle just to spite Maurice, but knew he would not. He had no reason to. The old, selfish part of him wanted to keep Belle to himself a little while longer. He had no grudge against his stable hand, and therefore had no reason to go against his wishes. If he wanted to remain apart from his daughter, if Belle was indeed his daughter, it was of no concern to him.
"No," he decided. Both Lumiere and Cogsworth visibly exhaled in relief. "It will be for Maurice to decide when Belle should know. She will not be told until Maurice wishes it."
"Understood, Master," they replied.
"However," he spoke up, and Adam knew that if they had still been human their faces would have paled in nervous anticipation. "Let Maurice know that the longer he waits, the harder the inevitable will become. Belle has been through enough already. She should not be kept from her father any longer than she already has."
Lumiere nodded while Cogsworth said, "We will, Master."
The unspoken truth that Adam was the reason Belle and Maurice had been kept apart for the past fourteen years hung in the air, so heavy and pungent that Adam nearly choked on it. He was glad to be left alone again once Lumiere and Cogsworth left so that he could bury himself in his book once more in order to stifle the amount of guilt in his heart that only grew stronger by the minute.
By the time she finished the spell book she'd found in the library, Belle was sure of one thing: magic was complicated.
Her head swam with all the information she had gathered about spells and magic, so much so that she was not sure she would ever go back to her mundane existence before reading the book. Of course, it could be nothing more than fiction; something written to make the readers believe magic existed in a world where it so obviously did not. Belle would have believed it if she did not find herself living in a castle where the master was a beast and objects talked and moved around as though they were alive.
As much as Belle tried to convince herself otherwise, she had come to the conclusion that she was not living in a dream, nor was she hallucinating. Everything she had seen and everyone she had met since leaving Madam Rouchard's was real.
Belle longed to ask about the mystery surrounding the castle, but she simply could not find the words. Nothing she thought of sounded quite right, and it all ended up coming across as rude or impolite. She felt strange about concerning herself with the feelings of a candelabra, clock, teapot, and pitchfork, but it was easy to overlook when the otherwise mundane objects began speaking back to her. Sometimes it was easy to overlook their unhuman-like bodies. Belle had to remind herself on more than one occasion that Lumiere, Cogsworth, and the others were things, not people.
She told herself that she would find the courage to ask. She just needed to find the right time, and with the right one. As much as the Beast's outward demeanor had changed toward her, she still did not feel comfortable starting a conversation with him. She still felt like an intruder in the castle, despite his invitation to spend as much time there as she needed to. She would need to try with someone else. Lumiere was very talkative, but he also seemed to be the Beast's second-in-command, and she suspected that he would report her questions to the Beast the first chance he got.
She had not spoken too much with Cogsworth, but he was distant enough that she did not think he would answer any question she asked him. She hardly ever saw Mrs. Potts.
Which left Maurice.
She supposed it would not hurt to ask him. He'd admitted to her that he spent most of his time alone. Did that mean he did not spend too much time with the Beast? Somehow she could not see the two of them holding a conversation. The pitchfork seemed the Beast's opposite in every way. She decided she would ask him when the moment arose.
Feeling restless, Belle decided to take the books she'd already read back to the library. She'd already read two books, one of which was the spell book. The activity had reawaken her desire and now she found she could not get enough. Belle longed to escape into the stories that awaited her in that vast library. She knew she could leave the castle any time she wanted to, but with so many books at her disposal the desire to leave had decreased somewhat. She still longed to find her father more than anything, but the idea of going back into that wolf-infested forest did not appeal to her.
A few more days, she thought to herself as she began the trek from her room to the library. I'll spend a few more days here then I'll ask the Beast about his promised help to get through the woods safely.
As she stepped across the threshold into the massive room, she couldn't help but marvel at the vastness of the library. Belle did not think she would ever get over how many books this room held. Once again she was overcome with anxiety over how many books she could choose from. How would she ever settle on a mere handful?
The sunset slowly crept into the wide window facing it, illuminating Belle's face as she browsed the shelves. She basked in it, never getting many opportunities to feel the sun's rays back in Villeneuve. The only opportunities she ever had to go outside had been when she was assigned laundry duty. Madam Rouchard rarely gave the children a chance to run around, afraid they would see it as their chance to run away. Belle had always been tempted as a child, but had always been too afraid to strike out on her own. As much as she hated her life at the orphanage, she'd never had anywhere else to go.
Her time here made her wonder why she'd never tried to leave sooner. Her initial welcome at the castle had been less than ideal, but the taste of freedom she now had was addicting and liberating. She knew she would never go back to feeling trapped again.
Belle did not know how long she spent in the library. She spent hour after hour perusing the overstuffed shelves. By the time she'd examined the library's contents in its entirety, she had at least twenty books on the large oak table. She gave each of them a thorough examination and tried to limit her choice to two. By the time she replaced the ones she decided against and took her two choices back to her room the sky was pitch black. Even the moon had decided not to rise.
She only left her room to eat a quick dinner with the Beast, who remained his usual quiet, thoughtful self. He seemed even quieter than usual, though Belle did not ask if anything was wrong. She knew she would either get no answer, or no answer and a taste of his vile temper, and decided that she did not have the energy to experience it that night. She was too tired and eager to go back to her room and begin one of her new books.
It was late into the night by the time a soft knock came at her door. Belle stifled her irritation as she called, "Come in!"
It was the pitchfork. Belle sat up in bed as Maurice hopped into her room. Belle was glad she hadn't changed into her nightgown yet as Maurice hopped on to her bed without an invitation. Belle was surprised that she was not angry about his boldness. It was nice to have a visitor, even one as strange as him.
"Did you need something?" Belle asked when it was clear Maurice would not be the one to speak first. She hoped her words did not sound as blunt to him as they did to her.
"I only wished to know if you were settling in well here."
"Oh." Belle considered before finally shrugging, holding her book close to her chest. "Yes, I guess I am."
Maurice inclined his skinny body at the book. "I see you like to read."
For the first time Belle's face broke out in a wide grin. "Yes. I love to read. I have ever since I can remember."
"Did you pick it up from your mother?"
Belle's grin vanished almost instantly at the mention of her mother. She spoke into her lap as she said, "I do not know. I cannot remember much about her."
"What do you mean? Do you not remember her?" If Belle had been paying closer attention, she might have noticed the hint of dread and unease that coated Maurice's words.
"I don't remember much. She died when I was four."
A heavy silence fell. Belle felt a tear escape her eye, though she hastily wiped it away before the pitchfork could notice. She did not want to appear weak or sentimental in front of him. He already knew she'd needed saving from wolves. She did not want him to think she could not handle talking about her family as well.
"And your father?" Maurice sounded as though he'd forced the words out.
Belle shrugged, her gaze still focused intently on her lap as she said, "I don't know. I can't remember him."
"Do you know his name?"
"No," Belle admitted, feeling another tear fall. "It's as though he never existed. I can't remember him and no one can tell me anything about him."
Maurice was silent for a moment. It was impossible to tell what he was feeling from his small, faceless body. When he spoke up again his voice was barely more than a whisper. "May I ask where you grew up?"
"In Villeneuve. I was taken to Madam Rouchard's. The village orphanage," she added before Maurice could ask what Madam Rouchard's was. "I lived there up until the day before I came here. I left in order to find my father. I know he is out there somewhere, and I intend to find him." She did not know why she'd admitted all that to Maurice. Telling the story of her past to the Beast had been one thing. He'd saved her life and gave her shelter against the wolves. Maurice was a stranger who had barely spoken more than a handful of words to her. She had no reason to admit anything to him.
"How do you intend to find him when you do not know his name?" Maurice's words were not harsh. They were gentle and kind, not doubtful or with any trace of humor. She'd gotten plenty of that back in Villeneuve when she talked about her desire to find her father.
"I know his surname," she said. Something about her tone made the pitchfork jump slightly. She could only call it surprise.
"You do?"
Belle nodded. "My full name is Belle Celine Fournier. My middle name came from my mother. I know Fournier is her married name. Whoever my father is, his last name is Fournier. It is as good a place to start as any. As soon as I get to the nearest town I plan on looking into their records for anyone who went by that name."
After a moment, Maurice said, "That is a good plan. I…I wish you the best of luck on your search."
Belle smiled, wiping away yet another tear as she said, "Thank you."
As Maurice turned to leave, Belle called out after him, sounding rather surprised. "You're the first one I've said all that to who did not try to tell me I was wasting my time."
Maurice paused and turned to look back at her. "I am?"
Belle nodded as she said, "Everyone in town assumes he is dead. He's been away for so long, and no one knows who he is. I almost hope he is."
"Why?" Maurice whispered, sounding as though he did not want to hear the answer.
"I can accept his absence in my life if he is dead. Why else would he stay away all these years?"
Maurice made a motion that implied he wanted to shake his head as he said, "Why indeed?"
Belle bade him goodnight as he left, only realizing minutes after he was gone that she had not asked him any of her questions about the curse. As she extinguished her light and settled herself into bed, she hoped Maurice would not tell the rest of the castle about her past, or her fool's errand to find her father. She knew they would only laugh.