Lumiere scowled determinedly and stormed forward. "It has to work, Master, it is your only chance." The Beast sighed deeply and finally nodded. "All right then. The Master must prepare to enter the village." Immediately, the cloak rack and bureaus began finding clothes that had not been ripped or torn in aggression. Another household luxury tried to fix his tousled hair, but he softly pushed them away. Ms. Potts worriedly caught Cogsworth before he left to direct the carriage.
"Cogsworth, I suddenly have a bad feeling about this…what will the people think when they see the Master? They do not know him like we do."
"They will think the best!" Lumiere stated. "Isn't he a prince? They must treat him like one."
"What if she isn't the one," the Beast sorrowfully asked. "What if she says no?"
"Now, now, Master," Ms. Potts comforted. "Keep your spirits up." The cloak rack returned with a valiant purple robe, dusty and ridden with moth holes.
"He can't wear that!" Lumiere exclaimed. "Do we have anything more suitable?"
"His Majesty hasn't been out of this castle in two years!" Cogsworth argued. "How is he supposed to just waltz into town, expecting every bit of respect he deserves!"
"Quiet!" the Beast roared, the resounding echo of his voice quieting them all and, as usual, distinguishing Lumiere. "I'll go into the village with nothing more than I have," he ordered. "I'm going to rescue Belle, and…"
"Yes!" Lumiere shouted, his little brass frame leaping into the air. "Master, what genius! She'll fall madly in love with you as soon as she realizes you've saved her life." The Beast, cut short, dropped his paw in silent surrender, and slowly retreated to the back door.
"Master?" Ms. Potts asked, trying to follow him. "Master, what will you do?"
"I can't stand for her to be like that," he growled. "I don't care what happens afterwards, or before, or any time...but I'm going to rescue her." The door slammed shut, and a cold chill blew through the drafty castle.
"Well, that went well…" Cogsworth snorted.
"As the newly elected mayor of this town," Gaston boasted to the crowd. "I promise to rid this village of any unsightly pests and annoyances!" The congregation cheered from below the pavilion. The wooden edifice had been erected only days after Gaston had taken over the village. The few elders that resisted Gaston's power watched quietly from closed shudders or behind asylum bars. Maurice was among them, but in his own home. Belle, however, was in the crowd. She had escaped by Lefou's dumb mistake of trying to catch her cat, Fille. From the corner of her hidden eye she could see Bambi, the blonde votary of Gaston's that she had asked to take her place. Bambi giggled excitedly while twirling one of her brunette curls. Yes, the dye was a fantastic idea.
"Three cheers for Gaston!" Lefou yelped. The men all echoed a hurray. The quiet rebel in a heavy black cloak, hobbling through the crowd with a delicate hand over the cane, didn't look up at the corrupted leader.
"And I promise to never let any more harm to this village, whether it be the form of beast or book!" Another bright cheer rose in heavy voices. Gaston's sharp eye fell on a certain old man who seemed quick to exit the throng. "You, there!" he called. They turned to the center, where Belle's covered face grew red. "You there, where are you going?" Belle halted, shivering under the cape. She couldn't speak…they'd find her out.
"I don't think I know you," an old farmer hissed. As another burly huntsman began to approach her, she thrust the cane into his side and threw the cape down.
"It's Belle!" Gaston shrieked, thrusting an arm forward. "Get her! She's not to be out!" At first, the people did not respond. Belle was odd, yes, but harmless in their eyes. "What are you waiting for?" Belle was sprinting towards the far road, glancing over her shoulder to see who would follow. Her thin-covered feet stumbled beneath her and she tripped. "She's one of the trouble makers!" A few more loud voices called out in anger, and the swiftest men (along with Gaston) pursued her into the forest.
"Get her!"
"She'll free the others!"
"Don't let her get away!" The rest of the town began to get anxious, and Lefou whistled to calm them down. Tearing through the heavy brush, the leaves ripped at Belle's dress and loose hair. She found herself upon a familiar fork in the road after a winded escape, and the voices of Gaston's company behind her. Confused and afraid, she pulled the blue ribbon dangling from her locks and ran down the brighter path. She dropped it in the middle of the road, and crossed over the dividing brush into the dark mist.
"This way!" Gaston shouted, thundering ahead, boots tearing through the muddy dirt. He stopped as soon as the clearing split, the ten or eleven followers behind him skidding to a halt.
"Which way was that?" asked the slender blacksmith. Gaston's fired eyes scanned the two ways. Suddenly, the frail light caught Bell's bow, trampled on the ground.
"Here!" Gaston heaved while sprinting to the thread and clawing it from the dirt. "We go this way!" The pack continued, screaming and running into the distant forest. Belle, however, dropped to her knees from exhaustion, cold, lost, and within the shadow of the castle's gates.