Chapter 13

Gaston rode Achille as if his life were dependent upon it. He forced the horse over fallen trees, dead brambles and scurrying animals. It was a violent ride that made birds take off in fright and alerted animals underfoot of something dangerous and evil. His gloved hands tightened on the reins and a whip spurred the horse into a ferocious sprint that would scare even the most experienced rider. Not Gaston. He was afraid of nothing in that moment.

The cabin that they were headed to was not far off. It was his cabin and his alone. Gaston liked the fact that it was far from the village and from the prying eyes of the townsfolk. It would be perfect for him and his wife… Belle.

Who had been missing for two days, two days, she had managed to escape him. The best trackers in the town had been hired to follow her trail and not one of them had been successful. They always came back with the same story about losing the trail, how they seen the wild portrayal of footprints and then suddenly nothing. Gaston himself was almost desperate enough to start a search himself. She was somewhere in the forest, alone, perhaps scared. In a way, he hoped that this taught her a lesson, maybe it would make her think more of him when compared to the harsh reality of the woods. The next time that they saw each other, would be the last time she seen him as someone other than her husband. If he had to force her so be it, she would be hauled to the alter one way or another.

He had just left the tavern with the order to LeFou to meet him at his cabin. They had to go over a plan of action, he wanted this done and over with.

Gaston slowed the stampeding horse to a gallop as they came to the clearing in the woods. He could now see his cabin and the stable. Because he owned the best tavern in town, Gaston had the funds to back up really anything he could possibly want. He'd been hunting, nearly a year ago, around the time he had first met Belle, when he had stumbled across the cabin. He'd known that the cabin was there, but he had forgotten about it until then. Well, seeing as to how, he really didn't have a proper home to keep a wife in, he mostly vacated his tavern instead, he had decided it would be the perfect place for Belle and him to live. So, with that hope he had taken it over and restored the little bit of nothing just for the purpose of living privately with her.

There had only been one problem with his plan, Mr. Bale, the man that had originally built and lived in the cabin ever since Gaston was a child, was no longer in the picture. But that wasn't the case in the beginning. When Gaston had first tried to buy the cabin from him, he'd been vehemently against it, but thankfully since then, Mr. Bale had been locked away in an asylum. There were rumors about what happened, that he went crazy or tried to murder someone, but the truth was, if old Mr. Bale had been willing to sell the cabin to Gaston maybe Mr. Lemure, the warden at the hospital, wouldn't have had any reason to take him in.

In the end, Gaston had got what he wanted, which was Mr. Bale out of the way and Mr. Lemure had acquired a new patient, so Gaston considered it a deal gone right. So, if he had to come up with a similar plan to trap Belle than so be it.

He led Achille to the stable and settled him in. He took the saddle off with jerky movements, but didn't brush the horse down. He could make LeFou do that later. Anger was still coursing through his veins over the incident with Belle, despite it being days ago. Although he had calmed himself with the knowledge that nothing would hold him back now from making her his wife, he hadn't been able to forget the way she had fled. How she had escaped him.

If he would have just listened to his instincts and undid her dress himself, if he would have noticed that deceitful look in her eye a second before she struck him, they would be married by now and perhaps even lying in bed together. No more, was he going to listen to her. Not her denials, not her pleas, and none of her nays.

He could be fucking a perfect wife right now, expanding his family and his fame, and being the happiest man in the village. She would be perfect too. He didn't care what the townsfolk said about her, they were wrong.. Her face, her ivory skin, and that long, long hair that a man could clench in his fist while on top of her was perfect—and he had touched it. He had come so close to consuming her.

The memory haunted him, how achingly close he'd come to fully exposing her. He'd seen her lain before him, with her bodice down about her waist and her heavy breasts outlined by the firelight. He'd stroked a finger between the perfect mounds, watching her body shiver and that's when she hit him.

But, it had almost been worth it.

If only she had been willing, if only she'd smiled and shimmied her way out of the rest of the dress and let him see what he'd been aching to lay his mouth on, perhaps then he wouldn't have minded being hit over the head with a burning hot poker. But, as it was, he was still upset about the incident.

She'd ruined his face. Well, not all of it, the black eye would fade but the other wound she dealt him, stretched from cheek to forehead and burn scars are not attractive. People had asked him how he had gotten it, but he'd given vague answers, never leading the way to Belle and never giving them what they really wanted. He could easily hide the wound if he positioned his hair correctly, but he found out that the people of the village seemed to like the scar. The women acted as though he was even more handsome than before. Perhaps it was more dashing in a roguish kind of way, but that didn't mean that he was going to accept it. Belle would pay once they were married.

He would never scar her flesh like she had his, he wouldn't shoot his own horse if it was healthy either, but he would do other things. A husband could teach his wife a thing or two and before he finished with Belle, she would be experienced enough to do as he asked.

Gaston exited the stable and heard the horse inside scream with rage. Achille's hated the stall, but Gaston didn't worry about it, because he would have to leave in another hour or so to go back to town. His boots were soundless against the cold dirt as he walked to the cabin porch. The wood creaked beneath his feet. He was stripping off his leather gloves when he heard LeFou approaching on horseback.

But, when he turned around to order him to the stables, it was not LeFou who was riding like a madman to his cabin.

"Maurice?" Gaston asked in disbelief. When in the hell had he came back? Excitement bloomed, could Belle be back too?

Maurice was riding the baker's work horse, pushing it to speeds that it shouldn't have been at. He was wondering why Maurice didn't have his own horse, but then he remembered that that was the one Belle had left on. But, then how had Maurice left in the first place? They only had one horse. Gaston decided it was too much and in the end he didn't care, so he didn't ask instead he asked, "What brings you to my humble cabin?" before Maurice had even stopped.

Maurice reared the horse until it was only feet from the porch and Gaston had never seen the man look so disturbed. All of his white hair was sticking straight up on end, his arm was bent awkwardly in a homemade sling and he had a bit of blood on his torn clothes. Bruises aligned his body which was taut with anger. Uneasiness settled on his shoulders, perhaps Belle had mentioned something to her father about their tussle.

"What happened while I was gone?" Spittle flew from Maurice's mouth onto the fall leaves on the ground. Oh yes, he knew something.

"I haven't the foggiest," he smiled up at the old man, "have you seen Belle? I'm afraid we have some unfinished business."

Maurice's eyes were wild and Gaston was sure if a shotgun had been available, Maurice would have shot him without a second thought.

"Damn you! Damn you. You have done something, but damn it, you are the only one who can help, but a fate with you might be worse than what she faces now!"

Gaston raised his eyebrow, "Excuse me?" And stepped a little closer, reluctantly interested.

Maurice visibly calmed himself and leaned forward on his horse. His voice was quieter now, but held no less rage. "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Maurice, I think you have the wrong man," Gaston smiled as charmingly as possible before turning around to go into his cabin.

"Our house has been destroyed on the inside, perhaps you had something to do with it? There was furniture everywhere and broken glass, and… blood. There was blood on the blankets that were strewn across the floor." The accusation wasn't a shock, but it wasn't welcome either.

Gaston didn't turn around, but instead just threw over his shoulder, "And what makes you think it was me?" In all actuality, it had been him. When he had woken up to a fleeing Belle, he had been even angrier than he was now. He remembered how he had picked up priceless knick-knacks and threw them into the fire. He'd thrown chairs and broken a few windows. So, no he didn't blame Maurice for believing there was foul play, because there had been. It was his blood that Belle had spilled on the blankets. "Mayhap instead of chasing shadows you should worry more about your daughter's whereabouts? Because I know she's not at home."

"I know exactly where my daughter is! Something happened between the two of you and I want to know what. I know it was you because, I found this… underneath a pile of bloody blankets by the hearth." Something soft touched him on the back of the shoulder and turned around to find that Maurice had thrown a cravat at him. It was his.

He lied, "What's this?"

"You know what it is."

Yes, he did, he'd taken it off to be with Belle. "Well, I know it's a cravat, but why is that important to me?"

"It's yours. Who else in the village can afford to have real gold threads in their cravats? Certainly not Mr. Fehr, or Monsieur Marcus, but you—you are wealthy in a town with no money."

"So, you've proved it's mine, in turn, what does that prove."

"What happened between you and Belle?"

"In this town I am the best man for her—"

"What happened?" Maurice yelled, causing birds to fly from there trees.

Gaston turned now and looked Maurice full in the face. The man's eyes were crazed and almost black. His fat fingers were clenched so tightly on the reins that he heard them crack.

"I visited her."

"What did you do to her?" Maurice whispered threateningly.

"Nothing she wasn't asking for!" Gaston yelled back, his anger rising, he would not be held accountable for what Belle made him do.

"She hates you, she wouldn't—"

Gaston was furious, he no longer cared about his words, "She wanted me to touch her," Gaston stomped down the porch steps to the nervous horse and Maurice's reddening face, "She begged me. It's been going on for months. How she comes to town in those prim dresses that are just tight enough to be enticing. Did you know that if it hadn't been for me Belle would have been compromised long ago? If only you could hear what the men say about her when they get a few pints in them. Well, you know what? I got to be with her in a way that others have only dreamed. How would you like to know that I touched her heavy breasts, that her nipples were hard and aching—"

Gaston ducked before Maurice's foot could make contact.

"Would you like to hear more?"

"Don't you dare talk about my daughter that way!"

"What did you expect would happen Maurice when you came? Hmm? Did you think that I would just cry out 'Oh, you caught me, please don't tell!' Well the truth is I wanted to fuck your daughter. By God, if it kills me, it will happen. The next time I see her we will be married and you will be someone else's problem!"

Maurice was shaking, "You can have any woman in the village, my daughter is a good girl, you do not need her to sate your needs! Anything you do to her will be unwilling on her part, whereas there are dozens of other girls who are very willing to lie with you and be your wife."

"Oh, but I want Belle. She is the best and I deserve nothing less."

"You deserve everything less."

"What's the real reason you came here? If it had been truly to just defend your daughter's honor you could have merely came and killed me. You already knew that I was the one who had been in your house, what was stopping you?"

Shame washed over Maurice and it looked as if tears filled the man's eyes. Gaston almost laughed as Maurice tried to pitifully hold it together, "I didn't know who else to turn to."

"You think I'll help you?" This time Gaston did laugh. It was a hard manly laugh, mocking to the highest degree.

"You are the best hunter that I have ever heard of…"

"Yes, Maurice, I do have other plans for this evening so do hurry this along."

"No, this was a bad idea you can't be trusted. I'll kill him myself!"

"Kill?" Maurice was harmless, Gaston knew, so who in the hell would he want to kill. "You came to me for a murder conspiracy?"

"No, I won't tell you, she's in trouble and I need to help her!" Maurice was talking to himself. He really was going insane. Gaston watched as he gathered the reins together as if he'd made his decision. Then, as Maurice was turning his horse around hurriedly, his words sank in.

Gaston's hand shot up and grabbed the reins before Maurice could leave. "What do you mean 'she'? Are you talking of Belle? Do you know where she is? Is she with someone?"

Maurice jerked the reins and the horse reared for the second time. "She's with someone better than you." Maurice heeled the horse and then took off towards the town disappearing in the trees. Not bothering to look back at Gaston's shouted, "Maurice!"

Gaston cursed and raced to the stable. He was going to the tavern, he needed the men there. Hopefully, he would meet LeFou on the way, but if not it didn't matter. Maurice knew where Belle was and Gaston was going to make him tell him. He needed to set up to a hunting party to find Belle. Obviously she was being kept by someone and Gaston was going to get the information from Maurice one way or another. No one took from him what was his.

He pulled Achille out of the stable and mounted him. He took off towards the village thinking of what was going to happen when he found Belle, he knew it would change all of their lives.

Helen watched the tavern from across the street, trying to make sure that LeFou was still inside and busy. She didn't know what was happening, but Gaston, LeFou and a few others had been huddled together for a couple of hours.

It was probably about Belle.

Helen knew the girl came into town every few days to get new books or food but there hadn't been any sign of her lately. Which was logical, but with the way Gaston had been acting recently, something was definitely wrong. Earlier when Helen had been walking through an alley way she'd overheard Harry telling Gaston that 'the trail was gone, no sign of her.' Now, she wasn't entirely sure, but she had a good idea that it was Belle that they were talking about.

Helen's fingers ran over the rough grooves of the brick wall behind her as she quickened her pace, she wanted to get there before LeFou even noticed her absence.

She also thought it strange how Gaston showed up with that burn on his face right around the time he started acting weird. That scare and black eye were from no hunting accident. But, she couldn't worry about that now—the old woman had said to meet her on the outskirts of town, by the creek at midnight.

It was closing in on midnight, if she missed this meeting—it was her only hope.

It was cold enough that she could see her hurried breaths puff out in front of her. Her feet against the cobblestone were the only thing that could be heard. She should have brought a torch or lantern with her. It was just so dark out, she could barely make out where she was going. She decided to stay on the main street, because it had the most light. Street lights were lit and so where some of the windows in the stores she was passing, but not enough to actually give comfort.

"Why did I agree to this?" She wondered outloud, but she knew why. It was the only chance she had at becoming Gaston's wife.

When that old woman had approached her the night before, Helen had been disbelieving, but now, now she was hopeful. She had slept with LeFou to get closer to Gaston, she could do anything.

Reaching under her ratty cloak she pulled out what the old woman had given her, she was careful to not break the petals off or touch the thorns that sprouted from the stem. She still didn't understand why she'd been given a rose or why it was so important that it stay intact.

Even in the darkness though, Helen could see how red the rose was and how vibrant it was against the paleness of her fingers.

"Keep this rose with you, at all times. Do not let it die and do not let it wither. Meet me tomorrow at midnight and I will tell you how to get Gaston into a wedding bed."

"I'm as crazy as Maurice for believing this woman," Helen scoffed as she cleared the last building on the street, she could hear the burbling of the creek now, but she couldn't see it.

Helen tredded carefully over what was left of the cobblestone and onto the cold grass. She shivered with the first step. The grass was already dewy and frozen. The cold seeped into her slippers. She stepped over holes in the dirt and managed to only trip twice on the hem of her dress, making sure to keep the flower secure but unharmed in her hand.

She rounded a tree and saw the creek. It was tucked between an enclosure of vegatation. She herself had never actually came to this side of the creek before, but she had heard of it. It was a little bit of lover's spot. She'd seen young couples or newlyweds walking up the hill before and she had no doubt where they had come from or what they had been doing.

She wanted to bring Gaston here.

"Hello?" She asked the open air, she clenched her shawl around her shoulders a bit tighter. She wouldn't be able to stay long, LeFou got angry if she was gone for too long.

There was no answer, she couldn't hear anyone or see anyone approaching. It had just been a hoax, Helen knew she shouldn't have trusted the old woman's words. In fact, she'd never seen that old woman in town in her entire life and in a town this small that was impossible—there was no way that she wouldn't have seen her. Another thought struck her as strange. How had the old woman knew that she wanted Gaston? She wasn't that open with it that a complete stranger would know that about her.

There was something wrong with the situation.

Helen was suddenly very scared . She was given a rose by someone she had never seen before and had willingly walked into an unknown area. Helen backed up ready to return to the village, almost happy to be able to go back to LeFou, a harsh territory, but one she actually knew. When she turned to run back, she finally heard someone.

"Oh, no, darling, you can't back out now. I need you to give that rose to someone. Someone who has turned out to be quite the beast."

Helen tried to drop the rose and run, but pain shot through the hand that was holding it causing her to scream and fall to her knees. She looked around wildly desperate for help, when she tried to stand, she screamed again, but from a different pain. An internal pain in her knees. She grabbed at her skirt wanting to look at her knees to see what the problem was, but she was stopped by the sight of her hands. They weren't her hands. They were wrinkled like that of an old woman's.

Before panic or fear could set in, the voice spoke again, "You'll get your Gaston in the end, but first I need you to take care of someone for me. I need you to an enchant a castle."

Helen couldn't speak, there were no words to be made, as she stared at the gnarled hands that were supposedly hers. She reached up to her face which was streaked with tears, her fingertips were met with wrinkles.

"Why?" she sobbed out as she hunched over, it was too much to handle. Too much information that she didn't understand.

"I'm sorry about your body, dear, for some reason traveling through time backwards, does strange things to your age."

"What?" Helen yelled, not being able to comprehend.

"Don't worry when we go back, your body will be the same as it always has, used and unwanted. But, for right now, you just have to deal with it. I picked you because you, you have a reason. Do you want to know what it is? Hmm?"

The woman's voice was soothing, but the words weren't, Helen didn't dare look up at her. What had she agreed to when she came here?

"I'll tell you anyway," Helen felt breath on her ear as the woman bent down close to whisper to her, "Belle will die in a Beast's arms and I need you to set that into motion. Then, with her out of the way, you will get what you always wanted."

Helen never looked up, but instead her eyes fell to the rose that she had let go of. It had withered as much as she had.

Author's Note: I'm sorry about the wait! Oh, and I'm sorry to the person that wanted me to upload before their birthday, I swear I tried, but it just takes me too long to edit (Happy Belated B-Day BTW). Alrighty, the next chapter will be Belle's point of view on why she fled the castle, I know some people had questions on it, but never fear, I will answer them! And I bet a lot of people have questions regarding this chapter. Well, there's a lot of plot going on, and don't worry I will answer it all eventually in future chapters. I just want to thank all the people who follow and favorite, because I honestly didn't even think 10 people would follow and I'm very happy that people are enjoying the story I'm writing, because I'm having a lot of fun doing it. Happy readings and thanks again!