Author's Notes: I do not own Once Upon A Time, which is a show on ABC where they let your boyfriend live and then you became some pool-playing hussy for the rest of the season. I am totally running out of these soon. Anyway, thanks for your reads and reviews. I think I've gotten back to most of you, if I haven't, I'm sorry. Please let me know what you think and happy reading!


Beatrice walked downstairs for another normal day.

Rumplestiltskin was making her espresso, while Belle gave her a plate of fruit and Princess Aurora sat next to her at the counter. Gold had been in a generous mood that Beatrice knew was her mother's doing and was letting the princess stay in one of the guest rooms for the time being.

"The party for the library starts at four," said Belle.

"I'll come after school," said Beatrice.

"I can help you," Aurora offered.

"Thanks," said Belle. She exchanged glances with Gold and looked back at Beatrice.

She hated when they did that.

"So," began Belle, "your birthday is coming up."

"Your birthday?," Aurora asked excitedly.

"It's not a big deal," said Beatrice.

"I wouldn't say that," said Gold. "It's your sixteenth birthday."

"Sixteenth?," Aurora shrieked. "Are you having a ball? What's the theme? What color dress should I wear?"

Aurora could be exhausting.

"She can have whatever she wishes," said Gold.

"I'm not having a ball for a number of reasons," said Beatrice. She looked pointedly at Aurora. "Like people don't have balls."

"You must want something," said Gold.

"There's a remote control that looks like the Doctor's sonic screwdriver," said Beatrice. "I'll email you the website."

"Beatrice, we have to do something," Belle insisted.

"No, we don't," said Beatrice. "Is someone going to drive me to school?"


Belle had been staring at the gown for an hour.

It was gold. She did like gold. Her father had overseen its creation to the dressmaker's dismay. Of course it would have been Reinette's purview were she still alive. She would have even rather had her grandmother do it. Catherine, not Maurice's mother. She was a rather tedious woman who clung to the clerics like a life preserver and had never approved of anything even mildly amusing ever.

It didn't make a difference if she stared at the dress for another hour. She still had to put the down on, go downstairs and meet her fiancé. They had been betrothed since Belle was fourteen, but never met. Reinette had cleverly put that off time after time. Then she had died. The mourning period had bought more time, but now Maurice had decided it was time to move forward.

She thought back to the last summer she had spent at the palace and the Good Seer at the party Queen Eva gave. She had promised True Love, "with the most powerful man in all the realms." Whoever Gaston was, she was sure he wasn't that. He was a knight, apparently Maurice thought highly of him. Whenever Belle tried to inquire after his interests, her father laughed. He claimed there was no need for a husband and wife to have similar interests.

Her maid, Viola, entered. "What are you still sitting around for? Sir Gaston has just been seen entering the village."

Belle didn't care for Viola much. The maids her mother had brought on had all left since her death. She had no confidantes left in the castle. So she dressed and went downstairs.

Belle sincerely hoped that seeing Gaston would change something in her.

It did not. He was a great hulk of a man, the other ladies fawned over him, but Belle couldn't see anything that pleased her.

"I'm Sir Gaston." He spoke his own name as if it were the most important thing anyone was ever going to tell her.

Belle was completely certain it was the least of her concerns.

"We're going hunting tomorrow," said Gaston. "Your father said you would."

Yes. The least of her concerns.


Beatrice was silent. Gold was silent.

"Beatrice," he began.

"No."

"You didn't even let me speak."

"Fine..."

"I have missed fifteen of your birthdays," said Gold. "Is it so wrong that I want to celebrate this one?"

"Fine. Get a cake and ice cream. You can get a banner if that will help you."

"Why don't you want a party?," he asked as he pulled the Cadillac into the drop-off queue for the high school.

Beatrice sighed and collected herself to look her father straight on. "Look, Mom may have that whole Disney mentality going, but you and I both live in the real world and we both know that no one is going to come to a party for my birthday so let's just save a step and not have one."

"Beatrice..."

"I have to go," she said opening the door.

"Beatrice, look at me."

She sighed and turned. Gold kissed her on the forehead.

"Have a good day, sweetheart."

Beatrice got out of the car and shut the door.

"It'll be good when it's over," Beatrice muttered as she headed into the school building.


"I think you should throw her a party anyway," said Aurora.

"I think that's a terrible idea," said Merlin.

Belle was treating two of her most loyal library volunteers to lunch in preparation for opening day.

"Why is that so terrible?," Aurora asked. She seemed to have no problem taking on the ancient wizard. "You have balls to meet people, she obviously needs to meet people."

"People don't want to meet her," Merlin reminded them. "They're all morons, but that's how it is, I'm afraid."

"Because they don't know her," said Aurora. "If she never meets them, how can they know her? I had a ball for my sixteenth birthday."

"And we see how well your life has worked out thus far," said Merlin. "You've run away to another realm because your fiancé is having an affair with the warrior princess."

"Is she a princess?," asked Aurora. She shook her head. "Not that I care."

"Honestly, I was probably overreaching," Belle admitted. "She hasn't had an actual party since she was ten and..."

"And what?," asked Aurora, picking at her salad.

"Well, no one came," said Belle. "I don't think it was some great conspiracy, but all the other girls came up with excuses and after that, she wasn't interested. We should do something."

She looked up to see Mary Margaret approaching.

"Belle," said Mary Margaret. "How's the library coming?"

"We'll be ready for this afternoon," Belle said brightly. "Are you coming?"

"I wouldn't miss it," said Mary Margaret.

"Thanks. I keep thinking no one will bother coming," said Belle. "Hey. Do you have plans on the twenty-second?"

"Of October? Yeah, it's Emma's birthday." She stated it as if it were obvious.

Belle's face dropped. "Emma's birthday is the twenty-second?"

"Yeah, we're planning this big party, but don't tell her. It's a surprise."

"Oh," said Belle.

"Sorry, I've got to run," said Mary Margaret. "I'll see you at the library."

Mary Margaret hurried off. Belle turned back to her table mates.

"That's the worst," said Aurora. "Another princess with the same ball date?"

Belle knew full well how these things worked even if her father hadn't let her have one for her own eighteenth birthday. She had attended her share while Reinette was alive. "I can't possibly go into competition with Emma's party. It's ridiculous."

"I suppose since everyone loves her for breaking the Curse," said Aurora. "It's not even fair really. You can't be that old, unmarried and taking up ball dates. It's unfair."

Belle shook her head at Merlin's bemused expression.

"We have to go over some things about this land later," said Belle. "Besides, I can't put her into competition with family."

Aurora nodded. "We should get back."

Aurora walked ahead.

Merlin turned to Belle. "Something else preying on your mind, my dear?"

"No," said Belle. "Right now, I'm just hoping the opening goes well."


Gaston had been in the castle for a week. Belle had done everything her father required, organizing all the meals, showing him around the province and the absolute boredom of going hunting. If she were to be perfectly honest, the entire business was boring. She felt like little more than a decorative centerpiece at meals, no one so much as spoke to her. She wondered why they even required her presence. They could do everything without her. Perhaps they could do the wedding without her.

Today, rain called off the hunt and this meant Belle was trapped in the study with Maurice, his knights, Gaston and his sycophant, a funny little man called Lefou. He urged Gaston on into braggery, as if the man needed an invitation.

"You're like the son I never had," Maurice said, incensing Belle. "You'll see that Avonlea is prosperous."

Gaston probably didn't know what prosperous meant. Too many syllables.

"The fact that Belle has been my only heir has troubled me for a very long time," said Maurice.

Gaston laughed. "Well, you can bet that won't happen to me!"

Belle suddenly had a vision of a house full of mini-Gastons. A horde of tiny, shallow brutes who had never seen a thesaurus. Or knew what it was.

That was it.

Belle had enough. She couldn't do it anymore.

"Sir Gaston, have you met the king of Avonlea's neighbor?," she asked.

"No."

"What was his name?"

"I can't say I know."

"It's just you'll be dealing with him a great deal," said Belle. "For matters of diplomacy."

"Well, I'm more into fighting than talking."

She nodded. "I see. How many troops does Avonlea have at the ready?"

She caught the first of Maurice's glares.

"I-"

"What's the weakest line? Which sentry towers are in need of repair?"

"You needn't worry your pretty head, Belle," said Gaston.

"Of course not-" said Maurice.

Belle tartly cut off her father. "I think someone ought to worry, preferably someone that can answer anything about Avonlea."

"I'll see you in the hall, Belle," Maurice said gruffly.

"No, I'm interested to hear Sir Gaston's answer."

Maurice grabbed Belle by the arm and took her in the hall. As he slammed the door, Belle heard Gaston and the others laughing.

"What do you think you're doing?!," asked Maurice. "What was the meaning of those questions? Why would you want to show up your future husband?"

"Those questions are important to this land, Papa. I thought you would know that."

"He will learn in time-"

"He can't learn manners or how to have interest in me!"

"Of course he's interested in you!"

"He is interested in me as a brood mare."

Maurice shook his head. "What do you want, girl? This is the way things are done."

"Not for everyone," said Belle.

"I see. This is your mother's doing, putting girlish notions into your head-"

"It is not a girlish notion to wish to be valued as something more than an ornament."

"That woman always had ideas that were above her place."

"Please don't speak ill of her, Papa."

"This is my home and I will speak how I wish. Your mother never even tried to have a happy home. I would hope you'll have more maturity."

"Because you never listened to her!," Belle finally shouted. "How is anyone supposed to be happy if nobody cares what they think?"

"You may be excused to your room. I'll explain you're not feeling well," said Maurice. "Don't even think of composing a letter."

"Am I forbidden to write now?"

"I know you'll write your grandparents for help. Overindulgent people that they are, they will doubtless come to your aid, which would be a mistake," said Maurice. "Avonlea needs this match. This is your purpose."

Belle walked away.


Gold picked up Beatrice as usual and they made their way to the library. There was already a decent sized crowd inside. Granny and Ruby manned a snack table. Belle was doing her best to make her way around. She caught sight of Beatrice and Gold and quickly excused herself to come over.

"Well, it seems you have a success," said Gold.

"I had a lot of help," said Belle. "Speaking of which..."

Belle reached around the circulation desk and pulled a book out from behind the shiny new Mac.

"The Story of Babar?," Gold asked.

"No," said Beatrice.

"What's it about?," asked Gold.

"An elephant who dresses well. You would like him," said Belle. She looked at Beatrice again.

"No," she repeated.

"You love Babar. Remember when you made me read it to you in the original French?"

"Mom, nobody wants me to read-"

"I want you to read. I don't have anyone else and I have a room of children waiting for story time."

"Get Aurora. She's a princess. People like princesses."

"She doesn't know the story. You do."

Beatrice looked down.

"On occasion, I have to ask you to be brave because if you never have to be brave, nothing good will ever happen. So, I'm asking you to be brave."

Beatrice took the book and walked to the reading room.

A hush fell over the room as Beatrice entered. Only Henry smiled at her.

"So," she said, taking a chair, "Our story is going to be Babar by Jean De Brunhoff. He was French, it's actually based on a story his wife made up for their children. There's also some French colonial undertones, but since this was written in 1931 it's more about longing for a bygone era..."

The children stared at her, a mixture of fear and stupidity.

"But you don't care about that, so..." She began reading and holding the pages up. "In the great forest, a little elephant is born. His name is Babar. His mother loves him very much. She rocks him to sleep with her trunk, while singing softly to him."

She changed pages as the first worried mother arrived and rushed her son out.

"Babar has grown bigger. He now plays with other little elephants. He is a very good little elephant. See him digging in the sand with his shell?"

She showed off the pictures as more parents arrived with looks of grave concern.

"Babar is riding happily on his mother's back when a wicked hunter, hidden behind some bushes, shoots at them."

Most of the kids got up then.

"Like this is worse than the Enchanted Forest with the heart ripping and the child soldiers," Beatrice muttered. "The hunter has killed Babar's mother! The monkey hides, the birds fly away, Babar cries. The hunter runs up to catch poor Babar..."

"Babar runs away because he is afraid of the hunter. After several days, very tired indeed, he comes to a town..."

Babar had just begun his tutoring when Beatrice finally gathered the courage to look up.

Henry was the only one left.

"Well," she said, closing the book, "that went great."

"I liked it," said Henry. "You're a really good story reader."

"Thanks," Beatrice said half-heartedly.

"Maybe they just went to get snacks," Henry offered.

"No, they didn't," said Beatrice. "They left because I'm me."

She got up and walked out to where her mother was chatting up Doctor Hopper and Marco. Gold stood next to her, making no secret of his boredom.

"Why do you do this to me?," Beatrice asked.

Belle was blind-sided as the book went in her hand. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? I just got rejected by a roomful of children. Children! That's a new record! That hasn't happened since I was a child! Thanks for that!"

Belle looked across as most of the mothers of the children she had seen go in the kids' room stood in a huddle and whispered conspiratorially as they cast glances at Beatrice.

"What happened?"

"What always happens! I can read books to kids and old people, I can try to chat up strangers every day for the rest of my life, but it is never going to make a difference! I'm never going to be as popular as you!"

"Don't raise your voice at your mother," Gold warned.

Belle shot Gold a look that clearly meant for him to not interfere. She turned back to Beatrice. "Just take a breath and we can talk."

Beatrice shook her head, unable to speak and just walked out.

"I'll get her," said Gold.

"No, I have to," said Belle. "I'll be right back."


Belle quickly tracked Beatrice down to a gazebo in the Town Square, where she sat alone on the floor as a light rain fell. Belle rushed in and sat down. Beatrice rolled her eyes.

"You didn't really think I wouldn't come after you?," asked Belle.

"I wish you wouldn't."

"Why would you ever wish that?"

"Because you would be admitting the truth, that I am not a girl people care about and I never will be."

"That's not the truth," said Belle. "That's just a bad thing you think about yourself."

"Do you know what my days are like? Really?"

"You don't tell me," said Belle.

"Because you'll worry!"

"Tell me," said Belle, straightening herself. Beatrice looked away and Belle took her chin back to face her. "Tell me. How was your day?"

Beatrice took a moment to look at her mother. She then steeled herself.

She was going all in.

"I went to my first class that's usually okay because I'm not in deep yet. I could still ignore people. In second period, we had to work in groups and no one picked me. Third period Pre-Calc, the teacher ignores me which is driving me crazy because that whole class is so far behind. Fourth period physics, again, no one will work with me. Fifth period, there are these boys who make a big show of pushing their desks away from me. Sixth period, well, that's French, insults in a whole other language. Seventh period, there are these girls who always talk about me. I thought at first they didn't think I could hear them. Now I think they only talk about me because they know I can hear them."

"What do they say?," asked Belle.

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters, what do they say?"

She shrugged. "The same things everyone says. I'm weird, I have no friends, I'm going to smite everyone, why don't I just kill myself and save us all the trouble?"

Belle was horrified. She wasn't naïve. She knew there had to be some things thrown at Beatrice just for being her father's daughter, but not something so terrible. "Do you think that?"

"God, Mom, I'm not going to kill myself..."

"Do you think that?"

She sighed. "If I died, face it, no one would care besides you and dad. If anybody felt bad, it would be like 'Oh, no, what could we have done differently?.' Probably not be bitches..."

"You're right," said Belle. "When I was your age, I was very popular."

Beatrice frowned. "Oh, good, I feel better."

"You told me once before the Curse broke that the most important thing in life is to be pretty and likable. The thing is, though, I was popular because I was pretty and I suppose, likeable. Nobody cared what I wanted from life, what books I read, what my dreams were. Your father says I saw inside him, well, he was the first person to ever bother seeing inside me. When you find someone who wants to know who you really are, pretty and likeable won't even enter into it."

"Great. I just have to hold out for True Love."

"Yeah, that's all."

Beatrice shook her head. "It's never happening."

Belle smiled. "If you could see what I see, you would know I'm telling the truth." Belle crawled across the floor of the gazebo next to Beatrice and embraced her. "I'm sorry you've had such a rough time and I wish you would have told me sooner because you are the most important thing in my life. I want you to be happy."


It was the morning after her eighteenth birthday and Belle was having the fitting for her wedding gown. She had written her grandparents, though it took a small bribe and a smile to get one of the hall boys to pass it on to a messenger. Maurice had been stopping all her mail for some reason.

She felt awful sneaking around her father. She knew she had a duty to Avonlea, but she couldn't imagine a life with Gaston that didn't involve throwing herself off one of the towers. There had to be another way.

"That will do very nice," said Viola.

Belle looked in the mirror at the frock. White monstrosity was the first thing that came to mind.

She looked at the seamstress. "Does it need so much fabric?"

"The clerics are prescribing the more conservative these days and your father says you have an example to set."

Now she was also to be denied a wedding gown she could tolerate. She could only imagine the clerics advised so much fabric so it would be more difficult to run away. That would be something if she did. She could run off and join her old friend, Snow White, in the woods. Hopefully she would get over her clumsiness in time.

Belle's fantasy was interrupted by the sound of something in the hall. She stepped off the pedestal and rushed out her door to see two of the footmen taking her mother's portrait down.

"What is this?," Belle demanded.

"Sir Maurice wants it down to make room for your wedding portrait," one of the footmen answered timidly.

Belle marched back into her rooms. "Get me out of this dress now."


Belle marched downstairs.

"Where is he?," she asked Jean.

"The receiving room. You shouldn't go in there-"

Belle ignored him and walked in.

"The ogres marched last night, crossing over the border here..." said one of the knights, pointing at the map.

"Do we know what incited them?," asked Maurice.

"No," said the knight. "One minute, all was calm and the next it was as if something had been unleashed."

"How many dead?"

Belle listened as the facts came out. The dead, the injured, the destroyed farms. Avonlea was in great peril and they made it sound like a matter of days.

"Belle," Maurice finally said. "You shouldn't be in here."

"I want to help," said Belle.

Gaston all but scoffed. "Leave this to the men."


"You've been reading that page for ten minutes," said Gold.

Belle looked down. It was. They had gotten through the rest of the library reception without incident, come home for dinner and now Belle tried to enjoy her usual pre-bed ritual with a book as Gold read some finance magazine or other. It wasn't working.

"Is it Merlin?," he asked.

Belle shook her head and put the book on the night table. She turned towards Gold and propped herself on her elbow. "I'm tabling that for a while."

"Do you think that's wise?"

"We need to focus on Beatrice," said Belle. "We have to help her."

"She doesn't want a party, Belle, she's made that perfectly clear and after today's incident who can blame her?"

"What did you do after I left?"

"I might have mentioned that were I planning some nefarious scheme, I would hardly need Beatrice. There were two children in that room I never collected on."

"I can't believe you."

"Oh, sweetheart, I thought you knew me better."

"No. I can't believe there were two children in that room you never collected on."

"Well, frankly, I took one look at them when they were born, decided they were somewhat homely and didn't want to be stuck with them if I couldn't find a buyer."

"I need some of your specialized skills," said Belle.

Gold raised an eyebrow. "Well, there's a promising sentence."

"There are two wretched girls in Beatrice's art class."

"What would you have me do? Trap them in glass? Cast them to another land? Curse them to everlasting spinsterhood?"

"I was thinking we would talk to their parents."

"That doesn't sound very satisfying."

"I thought you would do most of the talking," said Belle.

"Oh," Gold said, his lips forming a smile. "Now that could be interesting."


"Mom! Dad!," Selena called.

"Selena, get in here now."

She rolled her eyes and followed her father's voice to the living room where she soon saw the cause for the seriousness in her father's tone.

"Selena," said her mother, "have you met Mr. and Mrs. Gold?"

The Dark One and Belle sat on the sofa, sipping tea. Of course she knew them and immediately feared what was about to happen and wondered what that little weirdo had told her parents.

"I don't believe so," said Gold. "You're in class with our daughter, Beatrice. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

"Yes," Belle confirmed, nodding as Selena's parents looked terrified.

"You see, it's been a difficult transition for Beatrice. New school, new town, you understand," said Gold.

"Yes, of course," the mother said nervously.

"It seems that some of her classmates have been less than kind to her," Gold continued. "I wondered if you knew who that might be."

"No," said Selena, lying as badly as a teenager could while her parents continued looking nervous.

"Are you certain? Because if you did, that would be something that would displease me and I would have to take action to put an end it." He stared at Selena. "Are you certain, dearie?"

"Mr. Gold-" the father began.

Gold raised his hand to silence him. "Are you certain, dearie?"

"Yes."

Gold smiled. "Good. Then I won't be hearing any more of it, I'm sure. Thank you for your time. We'll see ourselves out."

Belle primly put her tea-cup down. "Yes, you have a lovely home."

"Yes, no fire damage at all. Come on, Belle."

Gold and Belle walked out and down the family's front steps.

"Oh, wait for it," Gold whispered.

"What are we waiting for?," asked Belle.

An argument suddenly erupted from the house, with parents asking Selena what she had done to offend the Dark One and did she want them all turned into snails?

"Oh," said Belle.

"I don't know that it will make her any friends."

"No, but it will get the bullies to shut their stupid mouths and once they do, perhaps some decent children won't be intimidated."

"I like this side of you," said Gold.

Belle smiled. "Do you?"

"Well, to be fair, sweetheart, I do like every side you have."