CHAPTER 10
LEFOU, upon returning to his rooms a few days following the event of discovering Belle's pretty friend was a Dire Woman, had been wracked with a horrible wave of guilt ever since at Gaston forcing him to keep such a dangerous secret all to himself.
Dire Men and Women were incredibly volatile and dangerous in the best of times, and as apathetic as Belle had been forced to behave towards his friend when Gaston had tried to court her, he would not wish such a fate upon Maurice's daughter if he could help it if Belle happened to come into her path.
LeFou had gone to his room where the Prince was graciously putting him up while he stayed here in the castle, terror rooting itself deeply into the pit of his churning stomach.
It was not the fact of telling someone about Isabelle's true nature that bothered him so much, but if he chose to do this for the good of everyone here in the castle, he would be betraying his only friend.
He could not bear knowing that would be his new truth and yet, he was practically bursting with the itch to reveal Isabelle's secret. Not to betray the poor girl or cause a rift in his friendship with Gaston, but...more out of safety, he tried to tell himself. The Prince and Belle needed to know. Their lives depended upon it.
He had briefly considered going to any guard and telling them that, knowing the guards like the rest of the castle staff were gossip hounds and letting Belle and her husband learn the truth of the maid that way, but he quickly tossed that idea to the side.
He had much more dignity than that, and he was above such a petty tactic.
If Belle was going to hear the truth, she would need to hear it from him and him alone.
Belle had always liked him well enough, he knew.
He was quiet and respectful, listened to her, and attempted to stick up for her and Maurice on occasion when Gaston's past antics got to be too much for poor Belle to handle them. He was still Belle's friend, first and foremost, and Gaston's too, and telling those who knew Isabelle best and more importantly, who needed to know, was what was important.
He could only hope that Gaston would not be too mad at him later on.
But the way he'd looked at him the other day disturbed him.
LeFou only just realized that when he had looked at him with those hot, dark eyes, the stare that made him feel as though he were about to be attacked and bitten, Gaston had been in fact, struggling against that very beastly urge. He felt his cheeks turn hot and his stomach flutter as he dressed and pulled back his hair into a low ponytail, shaking his head.
He could hardly believe that he was entertaining the idea of doing this.
Perhaps it was because Belle had defended him, maybe it was because Maurice had tried to give him advice on the journey here while there was still time. Perhaps it was because he had always thought that Gaston was one of the best guys in the entire country. No, the whole world, really.
Despite his abrasiveness, and his curse now, he did not want to see Gaston get hurt, which is what would happen if he let himself get close to the maid. Nothing good ever came from a Dire Woman. Dire's were feared throughout the realm. Most thought of them as evil creatures, soulless, and deserving of nothing but death, though LeFou was not sure he believed that.
He chewed on his lips, hesitating, and for a moment, he was having doubts. Was this worth it?
He honestly did not know what Gaston would do once he learned the truth. He would not soon forget the threatening and almost predatory look in his friend's eyes, the only thing left of the man within his cursed and monstrous furry form. He knew the curse could only be broken with love.
Maurice had divulged that to him as well, and he had seen the way Gaston had looked at the maid. It was how his friend had used to look at Belle, back when she had still been available.
She was young, pure, and beautiful, and he was no longer handsome and suave, but cursed, scarred, and beastly. He was a Beast and the maid a lady. Perhaps there was hope for Gaston, and the lady as well, though he knew, without the slightest doubt in the world, her secret could not be kept.
Especially not with Belle expecting a baby within the coming months. How would it look then, if something were to happen should her maid have an outburst and something awful happened and it came to light that LeFou had known about it all along and had been ordered by Gaston to say and do nothing? It would put both of them in grave danger, and it was this thought that it was for the greater good that gave LeFou the courage to straighten his coat and step from his rooms and close the door gingerly behind him.
Thankfully, no other souls were wandering about the corridor of the East Wing of the castle, at least, none that LeFou could see, for which he was grateful.
He moved as swiftly and as quietly as he could, an admittedly difficult feat with how short his legs were, and he was already winded by the time he made it halfway down the corridor, heaving for breath and clutching at a stitch in his side, his lungs burning.
His legs continued to move of their own accord, all the while his brain practically screamed at him to turn back, that this was a bad idea, it would compromise his friendship with Gaston. Surely, Gaston would hate him for what he was about to do, and the girl, too. But it could not be helped.
Belle might not even be in her chambers and if she were not, and LeFou were found standing around her room, what on earth would people think? Thankfully, the Prince and Belle lodged in the West Wing of the castle, a quiet part of the castle where everyone seemed to mind their own business and not venture into the Wing unless they needed to. He came to stand in front of their door and knocked hard, swallowing down past a lump in his throat.
Beads of sweat started to glitter along his scalp. It was suppertime, and Belle was without a doubt perhaps in the dining room, but she might have stepped out for fresh air. LeFou had no way of knowing and he found himself praying to God that Belle was both within and away. But visions of Gaston's face flitted through his mind and his resolve kept him rooted to his spot.
I'm sorry, Gaston, in his mind, he had already tried to apologize to his friend for his betrayal. B-but I've got to. I have no choice.
He followed up his first knock with another, this one more urgent than the last. He was in mid-knock, about to raise his fist to the door again for a third try when the heavy oak door swung wide open. The Prince stood before him, and LeFou's heart sank to the pit of his stomach.
The person on the other side of the room was not whom he had hoped to see.
He'd been hoping for Belle, though it was too late to turn back now. Only the taller man's deep blue eyes were visible in the torchlight of the dark hallway. LeFou nervously had to crane his neck upward and practically strain to take in the intimidating sight of Belle's handsome husband, his dark eyes widening as he arched his neck and pulled a neck muscle in doing so.
The act sent a sharp shooting wave of pain up his neck and through his right ear. LeFou yelped like a wounded dog having been kicked by its master and clamped a hand to his now-aching ear in hopes of soothing the pain. The Prince rose an eyebrow in confusion and he frowned.
"Monsieur LeFou, isn't it? Are you… all right?"
"Fine, Y-Your Highness," LeFou blurted out, stumbling over his words a bit as his cheeks reddened maddeningly. "I-I'm sorry to disturb, you, b-but may I speak with you? I-it's a matter o-of great importance."
The Prince frowned, clearly confused by how the Beast's friend had come to see him, though regardless of his trepidation, pulled open the door wider and stepped back, allowing him to enter
LeFou tried his best not to shiver as a wave of icy air washed over him as he looked upon the Prince's chiseled, sharp features. His resolve nearly failed him, and he almost turned to flee, though somehow, he managed not to give in to his fear and stayed put.
LeFou felt every cord and muscle in his body grow tense as the Prince quietly closed the door behind him, and he was too distracted by the Prince and Princess's private chambers to attend much to anything else. LeFou's skittish eyes nervously swept over the length of Belle and the Prince's bedroom, as though he hoped to spot Belle.
He half expected to see Belle lounging comfortably in the comfortable-looking armchair that was her favorite reading spot that looked well-used and well-loved, judging by the dent in the seat's cushion, but Belle was nowhere to be found. His worry soared to new levels.
"Belle, Your Highness, is she—" he started to ask, though before he could get in another word out, he spotted Belle in the furthermost corner of their room, slumped against a heavily cushioned chair and looking exhausted.
It was clear to him that, judging by her clammy complexion that she was not feeling well at all.
A basin rested by her feet, and he was sure that she had been sick to her stomach before he'd entered the room. Nevertheless, despite how sick and fatigued Belle looked as her pregnancy continued to take its toll on her, she smiled weakly at LeFou and waved, and attempted to sit up straighter, and even to stand to greet him, though he quickly shook his head no.
"N-no, Belle, please don't get up o-on my account, I-I don't intend to take up too much of your time this evening. I-I just…" he hesitated, desperately searching the young woman's soulful deep brown eyes, looking for any hint of reassurance and trust that she would not be so rash, with fear. "There's something I needed to speak to you about, it's...er...not exactly pleasant news, Belle, b-but you both need to hear it," he whispered, shamefaced, with a hint of reluctance in his voice.
He cringed the moment the words left his mouth. Goodness, but he sounded so cold and impersonal. Belle sat up straighter against her mountain of pillows, immediately concerned at how flushed LeFou was becoming. It was not like Gaston's friend to be so uncomfortable, particularly around her. Her immediate thought was that Gaston had said something to LeFou.
"What is it? What's wrong, LeFou? You can talk to us," she asked guardedly, not liking the old look on the man's face as LeFou turned to look at her with a pained expression, his pudgy face twisted into a grimace.
LeFou took a deep breath and let out the little breath slowly before forcing himself to push forward with the deed. Perhaps he could do this unpleasant deed with the subtlety and class of a man one could respect.
Like Gaston used to be, LeFou thought, pained, and nibbled on the wall of his cheek as he thought over how best to say in his mind.
He knew he wanted to help both her maid and Gaston, but he wanted to phrase the truth in such a way that would not cause the Prince to take any such rash actions against the maid, like dismissing her from his service or even worse, chaining the Dire Woman in the very cell Gaston had been in. He did not think he could live with the guilt if he had a hand in ruining her life.
He was sure that her life as a Dire was not without its immense complications and stressors. He did not know what her home situation was like, or how she had come to work here as a maid in the first place. A shadow of guilt clouded LeFou's dark eyes and he turned away, not wanting to look at Belle's caring regard for him a moment longer.
He felt like a horrible person, betraying both Isabelle's confidence like this and Gaston's trust in him, but her secret was too dangerous. Warm water brimmed at the edges of his eyes, stinging and blurring his vision though he furiously blinked his lids and fought to send the wretched liquid away. He could not and did not want Belle's husband or Belle herself to see his tears.
"It's…well…ah, a-about your maid, Belle. Sh-she's a Charmante. She's a Dire Woman," he blurted out clumsily, his tongue suddenly feeling useless and heavy in his mouth.
LeFou cringed as he heard the startled gasps of surprise from both Belle and the Prince and immediately cast his gaze to the cold stone floor beneath his feet. He could not bring himself to face either one of them, though he felt the burn of their gazes threatening to rip him asunder.
"Please, don't be angry with Isabelle, or-or Gaston. He..she…it couldn't be helped, wh-what she is, I-I don't know how much you know about the Dire's, Belle," he said softly, his voice laced with pain and sadness.
"Did you…know about this sooner, LeFou?" she questioned, her voice so faint that if LeFou had not already been straining to hear anything Belle said, he'd have missed her words entirely.
LeFou shook his head.
"N-no, Belle. G-Gaston and I only found out about it—a-about her, er, condition as one of 'em—a few days ago. N-nobody else knows. I've not told anyone. Not your father, not any of the servants, no one, Belle."
Belle nodded in understanding and looked toward her husband. Adam's blue eyes had darkened, almost cerulean, and it was enough to cause her to shiver. She knew that look well.
He wore it whenever her love was thinking about something particularly troublesome, and she almost feared what it was Adam had in mind.
"We—we can't send Isabelle away, Adam, she—she has no one else, nowhere else to go," she said, though she knew that her voice lacked the conviction to sell the argument she wanted to make. "B-but I don't know enough about people like her to be able to help, I don't know what we could do for her," she confessed, looking to LeFou for confirmation and searching his face as though Gaston's best friend had the answers. Though he didn't, he wished that he did. He'd magic the answers to their problems right here and now if it would help him salvage his friendship.
Belle bit down on her bottom lip, thinking, and looked to LeFou once more for help.
"You know more about them than I do, LeFou. You've heard the stories in the tavern back home with Gaston, haven't you?" she probed, trying to be gentle, though she was growing just as uncomfortable as LeFou looked, discussing her dear friend behind her back. "What could help a Dire to calm down from…one of their outbursts, to stop them hurting people?" she asked, guardedly. She'd only heard about them in passing.
LeFou hesitated, wondering if it was even his place to divulge what little knowledge he knew about them. There had been one old man who'd claimed to have seen one, once, a few years back.
A jolt ran through his body like a lightning bolt if he wondered if the Dire Woman the man had been referring to was Isabelle and if the man had known her.
Making a mental note to look into it on his own, perhaps when he returned to the village, he tried to think back on what he'd been told.
"Someone told a group of us once over dinner that they can be calmed down by someone they trust, b-but most Dire's don't live past the age of ten, Belle, the-the fact that Isabelle is your age is amazing! B-but…if she doesn't get help, it will poison her and slowly kill her, a—and I don't know how a Charmante can be helped. Not unless one of you could find the witch that cursed you, Your Highness, ma-maybe she could help your maid," he blurted out, cringing as he overstepped his boundaries by sharing this information with them, but he considered Belle a friend. A nervous chuckle escaped his lips as the Prince's face flushed in anger at the mention of the enchantress.
"She is the last person I ever hope to lay eyes on again, monsieur," the Prince answered stiffly in a flat voice, though LeFou was relieved to see he held no animosity towards him for his comment.
"What causes these…Dires, as you call them to—to lash out and lose control?" the Prince asked LeFou with great concern, as LeFou stood rooted to his spot for a moment, looking surprisingly thoughtful and pensive and exhaled loudly, and then answered him.
"I think…a-a great emotional stress, or-or an upheaval. Something that upsets them, and it's like they lose control, they cannot control the magic that erupts from them, nor do they have any memory of what happened," he answered, worry nearly overcoming his body.
Belle shuddered at the implication of what LeFou's words meant.
"How could we help? Does she have a support person who could…calm her down if she ever gets that way?" she asked, growing more troubled.
LeFou sighed heavily and averted his gaze, looking towards the fire in the hearth for a moment as he struggled to collect his thoughts.
"I-I er…uh…was thinking of Gaston," he blurted out in a low voice, sounding almost ashamed as he confessed his wild idea. "B-but they are both cursed. Maybe it's a connection. He-he can't go back home looking like he does. He'd be turned out before he'd make it two feet." He tried to smile but it felt strained. "I-I think they both should remain at the castle. Maybe time will…draw them together. I hope. People like you were, Your Highness, a-and Gaston, and now this maid, too, are different. People fear different, what they don't understand."
LeFou's words were surprisingly wise, Belle noticed with keen attentiveness when the man wasn't constantly being berated by Gaston and told to keep his mouth shut. She felt a pang of pity for the man but had no time to dwell on it as he continued. He cast his eyes down bashfully, seemingly unable to look her in the eyes.
"Please don't be angry with Gaston, Your Highness," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper as he summoned every ounce of courage within himself to address the Prince. "It was my idea to come here, to tell you, neither Gaston nor Isabelle knows I'm here." He hesitantly lifted his gaze and immediately knew that he had made a grave mistake in coming here if judging by the expression on the Prince's face was anything to go off of. The Prince was looking resolute, his expression set and determined, as though the man had made up his mind on her already.
And thus, this prompted the simple thought, "This was an awful and terrible idea."
But it was far too late to turn back now or take back his words, much less somehow convince the Prince and Belle to forget he'd said anything, and so, without a hint of showing his true feelings about this precarious position he'd managed to get himself into, he forced himself to ask the one question he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to.
But he had to know. For Gaston's sake, and the maid's.
"Wh-what will you do with her, sire?" LeFou grimaced as he watched an odd look pass between Belle and the Prince, a seemingly silent agreement reached between the couple without either one of them having to say a word. It was Belle who broke the silence.
"We will talk to her, LeFou, we've no choice. But…" She paused, taking a moment to think over her words very carefully, and then pressed forward. "If anything goes wrong with Gaston, then let me bear the brunt of the blame. I will handle him, not you, LeFou, I will personally make sure of that," Belle promised.
He felt the blood drain from his face at the thought of Maurice's daughter facing Gaston's even more monstrous wrath now that he was a Changeling, a Charmante just like her.
He desperately wished there was something he could do or say to convince Belle to change his mind, but she, just like Gaston, could be stubborn and set in her ways.
Once she'd made up her mind, there was no changing it and there was no in-between.
Sensing that his time here was up as he noticed the Prince move to stand protectively beside Belle and rested a hand over her stomach, he turned towards LeFou, his previously hardened expression softening.
"She will be permitted to stay, for now, Monsieur LeFou, as will your…friend, however, I am always going to choose the safety of my family over anything else, monsieur, I need you to understand that and if the lady Isabelle in her condition poses any threat whatsoever to my wife or our child or Belle's father, then I am afraid she will have no choice but to leave. I hope, however, that it will not come to that, but Belle and I will speak to her in a few days."
LeFou nodded. He sensed that he was dismissed and began to shuffle towards the door, though before he could twist the knob to head outside, Belle called to him once more.
He stopped and twisted his head to attend to Belle's words to look at her while she spoke.
"Be careful, LeFou, about Gaston," she warned, her expression as grim as a graveyard. "Isabelle and Gaston are welcomed here, and Gaston is welcome to stay with us as long as it takes to rid himself of his curse." She let her hand rest on top of Prince Adam's affectionately. "We know what it is like, to be alone with no one to turn to. But Gaston is not alone. He has us, what little we can do for him besides give him food and a place to stay. And you. You're such a good friend to him, LeFou, and I am sorry. For all of it," she said shyly, her gaze becoming quite crestfallen.
LeFou could only bend his knees awkwardly and lowered his head as best as he could in a strange bowing manner towards Belle, who was looking radiant as her pregnancy progressed, sick though she was.
"Th-thank you, Belle, Your Majesty," he stammered. "I-I hope that things work out a-and that you will be discreet when you speak with either of them?" he questioned, hopefully.
Belle nodded and gave the Prince's shoulder an affirmative squeeze. Relieved, he let out a sigh.
Before Belle or the Prince could say another word in response, he turned and disappeared out the door and shut the door to the West Wing, and headed down the hallway.
He could only hope that by coming to Belle and the Prince, by placing his trust in them, and having chosen to betray Gaston's confidence, he hadn't just made a grave mistake.
The further LeFou disappeared down the dark corridor to head back to his room, the more he ruminated over what he had just done, going behind both the lady and Gaston's backs, to tell the truth. He prayed to God if He was even listening to someone like him, that he would wake from this terrible, terrible nightmare, and more than that, he wanted someone to tell him what he had not done wasn't stupid, but in the darkness of the corridor of the West Wing, LeFou was alone.