CHAPTER 11
HE knew something was wrong almost the minute he roused himself from sleep. His excellent hearing did not pick up on the soft rise and fall of Belle's chest near to him now. Gaston bolted upright from the makeshift pile of blankets in front of the fireplace in Mary and Aiken's home.
He turned at the waist quickly, his suspicions confirmed when all he saw were an empty crumpled pile of blankets. The alarm of not knowing the whereabouts of the young woman whom he wanted to marry began to grow in him.
Gaston forced his racing heart to calm as he staggered to his feet, bolting to the other side of the room, towards LeFou's parent's makeshift kitchen. Aiken and Mary weren't present.
He presumed they were either still asleep or had perhaps gone outside to start their daily morning routine.
Surely, there was a reasonable explanation as to where Belle was. Gaston felt certain that she was assisting Mary and Aiken with something outside and had lost track of time. He stumbled his way out through the front door of LeFou's parents' cottage, and a gush of cold winter wind hit him immediately in the pink and instantly pinked his cheeks.
No sign of Belle or any of the others out in the front. By the time he made it around to the back, his stomach was in sick knots and bile rising up into his throat. His worry almost overwhelming, Gaston searched at a frenzied pace.
His thoughts came to him so disjointed that the beginnings of a tentative plan would not even dare to form in his mind now. Finally, standing in front of a wagon and his horse, Gaston found LeFou deep in conversation with his parents and Claire.
As he approached, he was not aware that LeFou moved to stand next to him, suddenly looking rather nervous.
"LeFou, Mary, Aiken, Mademoiselle Claire," Gaston gasped, struggling to catch his breath. "I'm afraid I need your help." Mary and Aiken were immediately concerned, though it did not escape the former military captain's attentions that their expressions were collectively as grim as a grave, all of them.
They knew something about Belle's whereabouts, he was sure, but he couldn't prove it.
Nevertheless, he temporarily shoved down his suspicions to the pit of his churning stomach and continued with his desperate plea.
"I can't…" Gaston began, his words forming ahead of his thoughts. His dark, narrowed eyes scanned the woods nearest them in the clearing of the forest where LeFou's parents had purposefully built their home to be quiet and out of the way, preferring the solitude of the Wolves' Woods, dangerous though it could be, to the bustling activity of the village of Villeneuve.
No sign of Belle or any other sign to indicate that something had happened to her, that she had somehow been forcefully taken from the warmth and safety of his side during the middle of the night.
"I cannot find Belle!" he growled, afraid even to utter the words, fearing the worst had happened.
LeFou gasped. "What do you mean, you 'can't find her?'" he questioned nervously, tripping over his words like the fool he knew himself to be, trying to give his response the appropriate level of concern. "I thought she was with you?" he wondered aloud.
"LeFou…." There was gravel in Gaston's voice as the taller, stronger man turned to look towards the shorter, stouter man, his eyes narrowed to slits. "You lie." He swallowed down past a lump in his throat and closed his eyes for a moment, willing his rapidly rising temper and fear levels to cool a little. "Don't patronize me." Gaston frowned. "I know you know something, LeFou. What happened to Belle?"
His spiteful stare bore holes through his comrade, who all but squirmed under Gaston's scrutiny, and only seemed to relax a little bit when he felt the tempered strength of Claire's grip on his shoulder.
LeFou's eyes glistened with unshed moisture as he stared into the hate-filled gaze of his oldest friend.
It was clear to LeFou that he couldn't deny the obvious. His mother and father knew the truth, and Gaston had naturally woken to find the lady Belle, not by his side. At this point, LeFou figured he could only do his best to lessen the damage done to both Belle and Gaston by telling Gaston the truth.
"Yes," LeFou regretfully admitted as he lowered his eyes to the snow-filled ground, unable to look Gaston in the eyes as he spoke the truth. "She's gone," he confessed, though the moment the unpleasant truth left his mouth, it felt as though a weighted burden were removed off his shoulders.
For a moment, Gaston was struck speechless as his breath caught in his throat as he blinked at LeFou.
The military captain and hunter tried to force himself to understand what he could not imagine.
Belle was…was gone. And LeFou had known of this? His fingernails dug into the skin of his palms, his entire body shaking, and teeth gnashed together as he fought against his urge to roar like an enraged dragon and unleash the worst of his rage on LeFou.
"What. Did. You. Do…? What did she say to you?" Gaston growled, knowing there was a bit that his friend wasn't spilling. Something Gaston cannot bear to hear, but the hunter knew that must hear it.
LeFou nervously met Claire's gaze, who nodded. He blew out a deep breath, the cold morning air making a visible vapor puff in front of his mouth.
"She fled. She knew you would try to stop her…s—she went back, Gaston. Back to the prince's estate."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" Gaston roared, lunging for LeFou, despite Claire, Mary, and Aiken all shouting and pleading for him to stop, but their pleas meant nothing to him, not while she was gone. He immediately regretted it, judging by the look of sheer terror on LeFou's face as he slammed LeFou up against the side of Aiken's wooden cart.
Hell. If this were true, he really would kill Adam. If the man so much as laid a finger on his future wife, his prize, then he would bloody kill him, Prince or not, he didn't give a damn anymore.
By the seven hells themselves, I'm going to kill him for this. He repeated it over and over in his mind like a mantra. Gaston wished he could think of something stronger to say. His breaths were coming in short, ragged gasps, and his chest felt tight, and his throat hallowed. For a moment, he actually thought he might faint. The blood was roaring in his eardrums.
"Monsieur Dupont, please don't do something stupid," came Aiken's warbling voice, fearful of his son's friend's temper, but insistent at the same time. "Going after the young lass without thinking things through is a surefire way to get yourself killed, sir."
Gaston ground his teeth together, seizing fistfuls of LeFou's coat and shirt and shaking him roughly.
"Why did you tell me this, LeFou, if not for me to do something about it?" Gaston bellowed angrily, as his anger swept over him in a deadly black torrent.
He let go of LeFou and angrily shoved his chest, so the shorter man was pressed against his father's cart and turned on his heels, seizing on tufts of his hair and tugging on them so hard the roots screamed in protest and agony.
Gaston Dupont was making a terrible sound that belonged to neither man nor wolf or any kind of animal, a horrible noise of betrayal and utter agony. The hunter sank to his knees, not caring for the snow or grit beneath that dug into his black leather breeches, pounding the ground with his bare fists, wishing he could tear it up, wishing he could rip the prince's heart out, or better yet, his own heart with his own two hands.
Anything to make the betrayal of Belle abandoning him and likely getting herself hurt even worse or killed stop, just make it bloody stop. Then Aiken was kneeling beside him, trying to put a comforting arm over the man's shoulders, but Gaston ripped away from the old man's embrace.
He flung himself against the bark of a nearby tree, screaming at the top of his lungs until he was hoarse. Prudently, the others did not attempt to go anywhere near until Gaston's tempest ran its course.
Aiken, Mary, Claire, and LeFou all stood huddled around the man watching him silently.
At last, when his temper had fled him, and his voice, when Gaston knelt motionless in the snow, gasping raggedly, keeping his head lowered, LeFou gingerly moved closer.
"Gaston, I'm sorry," he murmured fearfully in an apologetic tone to him.
"Strange way to make it up to me, LeFou!" Gaston had meant to shout his words towards his comrade, though his voice was now strangled in his chest. It sounded hoarse and thin like a thread of string. Gaston tasted bile in his mouth as clumsily, the tall man struggled to his feet, his hands groping for the side of Aiken's wagon to steady his uneven gait. The sight of something yellow resting in the wagon bed caught Gaston's eye and he blanched at the sight of straw and supplies, seemingly for a ride.
Aiken and Mary stood in front of the wagon, seemingly ready to bid him farewell, and it was only then that Gaston realized they had tethered his own strong black Friesian stallion to the cart with the intent of steering it. "What is this?" he breathed.
LeFou's father exchanged a worried glance with his wife, before turning back to look back at Gaston.
"My wife and I would be most pleased if you lot would take this back with you to the village," LeFou's father motioned with a jerk of his head towards the wagon. "Mary and I are not in need of the wagon again as the harvest is obviously done for the year, given that it's winter. It will most likely sit around unused until springtime of next year. Please," he begged, imploring Gaston to accept his offer of help. "We insist. If what you tell us is true, then the prince and perhaps even the king himself is sure to send scouts looking for you, and it will be more comfortable for you." LeFou's father would not see his son's friend turned away on anything less than this. "The hay will provide a hiding place for you, Monsieur Dupont, should it become necessary, God saves you," he prayed. "Besides, the prince and king's scouts are searching for a man on horseback, not in a wagon," the old man pointed out shrewdly.
Gaston looked at LeFou and his affianced, nodding to each other, hearing the logic in the older Frenchman's words, and turned to LeFou's parents who had so graciously offered Belle shelter for the night, food and had also saved her life.
"This is very kind of you." Gaston tried to smile at LeFou's mother and father, though it felt strained. "I will find a way to repay you both," he promised.
"Just see these two," Aiken paused and shot an affectionate smile towards his son and future daughter-in-law, "to safety back to the village and ensure your lady love back in your arms once more. That alone is more than enough payment for us."
Gaston grasped onto the old man's shoulder and gave the appendage a light but reassuring, firm squeeze, overwhelmed by LeFou's parents' selflessness to him. "I shall never forget your kindness, my friends. You saved Belle's life," he added, his gaze flickering towards both Mary and Claire. "There is no way that Belle and I could ever thank you all enough. Any words I might offer would be woefully inadequate to express our sincerest gratitude…"
"Please," Mary shook her head as if the old woman intended to correct him as she grasped his hands in hers. "You owe us nothing, Monsieur Dupont. I am just thankful it was us that you found," she told him, relief from what could have been their fate evident in her voice and within her kind eyes.
"Me too," Gaston agreed, clasping Mary's hand, and bowed in front of him. He was still so overwhelmed with gratitude that if Mary or Aiken had asked for the entire village of Villeneuve at that exact moment, he'd have found a way to bequeath it. The moment he straightened his gait, he gazed towards Claire and LeFou, a muscle in his jaw tightening as his anger quickly gave way to a look of determination and resolve instead, to get Belle back, though he was ill-equipped to do so with just a sword.
No. In order to properly save Belle's life, for a second time, he would need to return home to the village.
Perhaps then, once the old man had learned of his heroic efforts to save the life of his only daughter, Maurice would grant Gaston his blessing to marry Belle. At this point, he hoped so.
"We should go," he grunted disgruntledly towards LeFou, who immediately nodded, though he stiffened as Gaston turned on his heels to check on his horse. Claire nodded her agreement and hugged her future mother and father-in-law gratefully.
Mary returned the young woman's affections by laying a sweet kiss on her forehead.
"Goodbye, Claire. It's been a pleasure. We'll see you again soon," Mary promised warmly, softly.
Claire smiled at the blessing the older woman had bestowed upon her as she turned and embraced Aiken in a tight hug, with just as equal affections.
"Be safe," Aiken begged her as he smiled softly, and then handed Claire off to his son's waiting arms. His expression became stern. "Take care, son. Of her and of your friends," he said, warning him.
LeFou looked admittedly shocked, and a bit taken aback, though less so than he had expected to be, for he nodded and turned away. LeFou took Claire from his father and helped her up onto the wagon bed.
Gaston only moved to join LeFou up at the front when he was satisfied his horse was properly rigged.
With a flick of his reins and a cluck of his tongue, they were once again on the road. The fugitive from the law left the warm and caring sanctuary of his friend's parents' home behind. A final, worrying wave of farewell and well-wishes from LeFou's parents was the image which Gaston left the older couple and turned again towards the snow-covered unknown path of the Wolves' Woods, this time, heading for Villeneuve, and hopefully, towards help.
Because one way or another, Gaston was going to get Belle back, with or without the villagers' help, though if that lot wanted to prove to their local hero that they weren't stupid, then they had better embrace his offer, or else he'd go alone.
He was going to get Belle back and marry her, no matter the cost. Whatever the price, he'd pay it.
This he vowed. Even if he would have to kill his old friend Adam to do it.
A bit of a shorter chapter this go-round, but I promise, the next one is longer and goes back to Belle's POV as she encounters the newly-turned Prince for the first time since the woods' incident, only to find he is not exactly as she remembered him...