Chapter 3 : This Provincial Life

Magnificent trees lined the road to Belle's home. Their drooping branches dusted the red dirt below and moved elegantly with the breeze. As a child, Belle happily swung on the outstretched arms of the elms and chestnuts and escaped into stories of make-believe.

In her dreams, she was Tarzan the ape-boy or a pirate prisoner walking along the branches like a wooden plank.

Even as an adult, when the wind blew chilly and the trees beckoned for one more frolic, Belle could not deny them.

After tucking the hem of her skirt into her waist, Belle reached for the branch of a sweet chestnut tree and swung herself up. The small girl climbed with ease and grace. She quickly lay high above the earth, cradled on a rocking branch. Belle closed her eyes and wished the day away. Feeling the gentle sway of the limb beneath her, she allowed every image to drift from her mind.

All but one.

With a groan, Belle squeezed her eyes tighter but is face remained.

Gaston.

Belle tossed her arm over her face and tried to think of anything else.

Anything.

Anything at all.

He was trapped inside her head. Images forced themselves into her mind of his cocky smile, his long dark hair, and his obnoxiously perfect features.

"Even the thought of him is pushy!" Belle grumbled under her arm as she gave up and just allowed herself to think of him.

That maddening man! Why did he continue to treat her as though they were still in the schoolhouse?

Belle flipped over and swung her leg over the side of the tree. She flattened her stomach against the branch and pressed her forehead to the bark.

A young Gaston flashed in her mind and Belle smiled despite herself.

The lad had been all elbows and knees. True, Gaston was always handsome, but it took a while for his height to match his feet and his biceps to match his hands. Belle laughed silently and shook her head, remembering his wiry frame.

And he was so clumsy. Poor Gaston was constantly tripping over or dropping things. How many times had she bandaged a busted knuckle or cooled a bruised chin, Belle wondered. He seemed to constantly be injured. It almost seemed as though he welcomed the struggles. Without fail, the boy would show up, laughing heartily, and turn to his friend for comfort and aid.

"Not that he deserved it. Hulking troll of a man!" Belle mumbled aloud, as she recalled her earlier irritation.

Suddenly, there was a rustling of leaves from the ground. Belle looked down in surprise and groaned. There was no way he hadn't seen her. Gaston saw everything, and he only made a sound if he wanted to be heard.

"Where?" His deep voice asked and Belle laid back down. It took her a moment to understand what he was asking, but when she did, she swung her arm out and pointed to the village.

"That way. Go get him," she instructed helpfully.

"I think not. Better I just stay here and wait for it to come back. I hear trolls like to climb trees."

Belle could hear the amusement in his voice, but she steadfastly held on to her frown. "Gaston, may I help you?" She asked, showing polite restraint.

Gaston chuckled lightly and leaned against a nearby trunk. His dark eyes twinkled and he shook his head in confusion.

"Help me? You're the one stuck in a tree."

"Not stuck," Belle muttered. Her voice sounded petulant and she refused to look down at Gaston. Instead, she simply closed her eyes and waited.

"Hiding then. But from whom would the lovely mademoiselle Belle be hiding? Certainly not some troll. She's too brave for that." Gaston picked up a stray branch from the ground and started swinging it at an imaginary foe.

"You are the only troll here, Gaston." Belle corrected looking down from her perch for the first time.

Gaston paused his mock duel and stared up at Belle with wide eyes. He clutched the stick to his chest as if struck. "You injure me, my lady. If I weren't positive this was just misdirected frustration..."

"Misdirected..." Belle sat up on her perch and swung her legs down. "Gaston, you are positively primeval."

"Why, thank you, Belle." Gaston smiled proudly and continued to swing his branch.

Troll, Belle thought, even as she smiled over her shoulder where he couldn't see.

Gaston was confidence personified and that self-assured nature was come by honestly. There was no one in town, nor in the all the land, quite like Gaston.

In a village that thrived from the trade, no one shot like Gaston. His beautiful pelts were coveted world over, though his most magnificent work sat in a cupboard in Belle's tiny home.

The lovely white cloak with snow fox lining was given to her as a Christmas gift the year before and Belle had never worn it. The fur was too perfect, much like the man, himself.

At almost seven feet tall, Gaston physically towered over other men. He dwarfed them in sport, strength, and capability as well. His looks were unparalleled, though Belle had long since stopped noticing them.

Looking down at Gaston again, Belle noted he had stopped his swinging. His wide back was curved and he rested an elbow on the stick. There was a shimmer in his eyes as he watched her, and she knew he was enjoying her absentmindedness.

"Where'd you go this time?" The giant man teased with a lopsided smile.

Belle squirmed on her perch. A soft pink color spread across her cheeks and a sheepish expression filled her eyes. Knowing full well she was caught boldly exploring his ridiculous perfection, she avoided his question.

Instead, Belle hastily began scrambling down the tree with the least amount of elegance Gaston had ever seen her display. His amused laugh rang out as he reached up. His enormous hands slipped around her slender waist and he swung her easily to the ground.

When she was firmly before him, Gaston bent down and peered searchingly into her eyes. Belle quickly glanced away.

"Dear God, Belle, you look plain guilty." He exclaimed in pretend outrage.

Belle gazed up at him. Gaston's face was inches away and she stepped back. "I was um...just thinking of a book I need to return."

Gaston scoffed and bent to tug at her skirt. Belle sent him a questioning look before she realized he was assisting her with her twisted up apparel. When he pulled again the hem came loose of her waistband and she gave him a grateful look.

"Anything I'd like?" Gaston asked off-handedly. His sharp eyes examined the girl before him.

"A girl in a castle, a prince in disguise. You would hate it." Belle laughed lightly and gently shoved his shoulder.

"Got that right." He responded, sounding distracted. Belle turned her back to him and made to leave. Gaston stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. His eyes searched hers and he flashed a dimpled smile.

"You look every inch the mad genius's daughter today, by the way. The hair alone…" Gaston moved his hand up and took a curl between his thick fingers. He gently rubbed a padded thumb across the silky strands. Belle watched Gaston's expression go from jovial to serious as he stared at her messy auburn curl. A muscle worked in his firm jaw and Belle swallowed.

"I know. I'm a spectacle. I have been wrestling with father's inventions all morning. I only came into town to order some dog-legged-clincher he needed." Belle hastily smoothed her hands down her wrinkled gown.

"Hmm...is that what it's called?" Gaston asked with a slight smile.

"Who knows? He's going to the fair tomorrow, you know. "

"Yes, and next stop world-famous inventor!" Gaston announced, watching Belle's face light up with pride and hope. Gaston's throat tightened and his fingers stilled on her hair. He opened his mouth to say something just as an earsplitting explosion rang from down the road. Smoke rose above the trees and birds flew in the opposite direction. The sound was coming from Belle's house.

"Papa!" Belle gasped and sprinted quickly down the road. Gaston barely heard her "goodbye" before he came out of his spell.

"Wait, do you need help?" Gaston called after the running female, but she was gone. The bewildered giant of a man was left standing in the road. Again.

Gaston rubbed the back of his neck with a trembling hand. Trembling? His hands never shook. He had the steadiest hands in the land. He blew out a heavy breath and shook his head.

Something had to be done about this Belle situation.

He had tried twice to speak to her and twice they had been interrupted. Not again, Gaston resolved. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would go to her and confess his feelings for her.

A slow heat ran up his body as he thought of her response. He would propose and she would finally feel free to express her true desire.

He was certain she loved him. She had for years, ever since they were children together.

Such an odd, tiny girl. Belle never followed him the way the other girls did. She didn't flirt or touch him. She climbed trees and talked to herself. Gaston smiled as he remembered those days when he would tease her relentlessly.

Even then, with her brown hair pulled into two ponytails instead of one and her nose continuously stuck in a book, she was the most amazing thing Gaston had ever seen.

He had forced her to notice him as a kid. He pulled those glistening amber locks and constantly stole her books. He'd much rather she look at him than some silly story, anyway.

Yes, he would tease her, but he'd be damned if he let anyone else try! Many boys had lost a tooth prematurely thanks to his fists and an unwise word in front of the massive boy. He had the knuckle scars to prove it, though Belle never knew.

Gaston laughed silently as he remembered her pretty face pulled tight in a concerned expression as she bandaged his hands and scuffed knees. How she scolded for his clumsiness!

The girl was perplexing, but she took a place in his heart. It was a small place that could easily be filled by a little brother or a pet dog.

Then, eventually, she started spreading out. Without sign or warning, without his permission, Belle began to occupy the whole darn thing. There was no room left for anything else.

Belle conquered his heart and his mind. She challenged him. Infuriated him. She made him laugh like no other. She was his best friend. His future wife.

And tomorrow he would tell her and put them both out of their misery!

A.N: I don't own any of these characters. All rights go to Walt Disney.

Hello, Readers! Well, I think these two need to have a little talk, don't you? Oh well, I'm sure it will all work itself out...

And what about you, readers? Let me know if you are enjoying this story so far or if you have any questions and I'll have Gaston save you from a climbing troll.

As always thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting. - S.