Chapter 10: Perdu

Belle dismounted, rubbing her sore backside and yawning. She had barely stopped during the ride home, only pausing to feed the dark horse, and she was exhausted. Yet she suddenly felt more alert than she had in a while, for there before her, within her sight, was her cottage. She laughed weakly and sank to her knees. She took the grass in her hands, as though making sure it was real, then bowed her head in reverence.

The horse snorted impatiently, stomping the ground. She looked up at him and reached up a hand to rest on his glossy side.

"I am coming." she croaked. Slowly, her legs feeling like liquid, she rose and walked alongside the horse. When she came closer to the house, she could see that Maurice was tied outside, a rope crudely knotted around his neck and looped around a wooden peg in the ground. He had been laying down, whimpering. When he saw Belle, he barked loudly and stood up, wagging his tail. He strained against the rope, and Belle felt her heart melt as she saw the raw marks that the ropes had made against his sensitive neck.

"Maurice, Maurice, darling." she cried. She ran, her legs protesting, and bent next to the dog. The horse trotted along behind her and looked away, contemptuous and searching for something to eat. Belle, meanwhile, untied Maurice, then took the wriggling dog into her arms. She laughed at his licking on her arms and face and savored the warm bundle.

"It is alright now, sweetheart." she whispered. "I am here now."

She stood up, dog still in her arms, and opened the door of her home, which she knew would be unbolted. When she stepped in, she was surprised to find a flurry of activity. Several well dressed and plump women were rustling through the house, trailed by mousy looking maids. The women were dressed in ridiculous looking costumes, consisting of wide skirts and taller hair, and their faces were made up with thick, unnaturally pale powder. They were chattering loudly as they flitted about.

"Goodness, I cannot believe how little time we have-"

"Have you seen-"

"- married to Monsieur Rachet?"

Belle raised her eyebrows. She had met Rachet on occasion and heard more from Colette's rants, and therefore knew him to be pompous and self-centered. She wondered who would marry him for a moment, in awe of how someone could possibly endure it. Then she stiffened, causing Maurice to bark in her ear. What if- what if Colette was going to-

"My word, what is that dog doing in here?"

"Get it out! Get rid of the dirty rat!"

"You, girl! What are you doing here?"

The women were staring at Maurice in mingled disgust and horror, and she debated for a moment as to whether to put him on the ground to make them scream. She decided against it, as she had an idea that if she put Maurice down, they would stomp on him. Instead, she fixed them with an icy stare.

"You women are in my house, and you ask me what I am doing here?"

Belle did not wait for their reply, and barged past them to her and her sisters' bedchamber. When she entered, she found Sophie sewing a large bed sheet and Colette standing with her arms extended. She was being fitted with a voluminous, superfluously ruffled white gown by one of the tiny maids, overseen by her mistress, who resembled a vulture in her expression and underfed frame. When she saw Belle, Colette's eyes widened, though she didn't move. She instead said, in a would-be calm tone that was betrayed only by its shakiness, "Madame Rachet, Sophie. Please convince me that I am dreaming, for before me stands the apparition of my dear departed sister."

They both looked up. Sophie gasped, and her eyes filled with tears. Madame Rachet's lip curled. She looked Belle over thoroughly, then gave her assessment.

"I scarcely know your sister, Colette, but this cannot be she. The girl before us is a filthy wretch."

Belle's cheeks heated, and she frowned at Madame Rachet. Colette stepped away from the maid who had been working on her dress.

"And yet-" she whispered, "it is. Belle?"

The barely suppressed joy, which was mingled with disbelief, caused a few tears to form in Belle's eyes, though they did not fall. She sniffed and put down Maurice, who barked with joy and began chasing his tail. She reached to embrace her sister, and Colette was about to fall upon her neck when Madame Rachet let out a screech.

"Get it away! Wretched beast!" she screamed, kicking wildly at the dog, " And I do not care if you are to be my daughter in law, Colette, if you dirty that dress I shall tear you apart- many a franc was spent upon that cloth."

Colette seemed annoyed, but she pulled back, keeping her eyes trained carefully on the ground. Belle stared at her, horrified.

"So you are to be married to-"

"Monsieur Rachet. Yes." Colette said this through her teeth.

"Why?"

Colette gave Belle a look, as though saying Not while his mother is here, but Belle ignored it.

"You hate Rachet!

"Please, Belle, not now."

"No! Why are you- I don't understand-"

"Shush, silly girl." Madame Rachet said, ushering her maid to continue sewing Colette's dress. "The wedding is hardly in three days, and all you can think to do is sully this time with ridiculous accusations?" Her voice was so cold that Belle almost shrank back from it. Madame Rachet continued,

"I thought, anyway, that you had died. At least, that is what your father raves. A decent girl does not forsake her family and let them think the worst. But I suppose you did not think so far, and look; now your father finds himself in his current condition."

"What condition?" Belle asked. Madame Rachet smirked at her and turned away, while Colette continued to stare forward, her features collected and rigid. Belle turned wildly to Sophie, fear building in her heart.

"Sophie?" she whispered. Sophie shook her head and turned back to her sewing.

"Tell me, I beg of you! Where is Papa? Is he alright?"

"He has become nothing more than a drunken brute." Madame Rachet sneered, not looking at Belle. "His home is the tavern, and as he has taken ale as his meal, it is thought to be his grave as well. Not-" she paused and gave Belle a quick glance at the corner of her eye, "that I would know for sure. A lady would never set foot in such a place."

Belle felt her jaw drop and she put a hand out to lean against the nearest wall. She had never seen her father take a drink in her whole life, and to hear this…

"I see no lady." she hissed finally, "I see a cruel, horrible woman, with an equally horrible son who I shudder to believe will be married to my fair sister."

"She is not so fair." Madame Rachet said, matter-of-factly. Colette barely even flinched at this.

"Get out of here." she said.

"Colette!" Sophie gasped. Colette silenced her with a look. At first, Belle thought she spoke to Madame Rachet, then realized, horrified, that Colette was addressing her.

"I will not abide with someone speaking so of- " she stopped and drew a deep breath, then continued, "of my future husband and mother."

Belle shook her head.

"No." she said, dazed, " I would not dare. I hope that you have a pleasant wedding." She turned away bitterly, scooped up Maurice, and walked past all of the ladies out of the house. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Whirling around, she saw Sophie stood there, biting her lip.

"Sophie…" Belle said, hugging her sister with her free arm, "I do not understand."

"She does it for us, Belle. Madame Rachet was right, Papa will probably die soon. We need to be taken care of."

"Not by Rachet! I would think that Colette would rather die!"

"She cares about our family."

"Our family will only be worse for this."

"We did not have much of a choice. We thought you were dead."

Belle began to lead the dark horse, who had been sniffing the grass with disdain, and gave her sister a hard look.

"I do not understand the relevance of this."

"We believed we would be in mourning for two. Rachet has money, and if he and Colette are married, he will not bother us. You know he would otherwise."

Belle placed Maurice in Sophie's arm and swung herself up on the horse.

"What do you plan to do when they are married, Sophie?" she asked once she was mounted, reaching for Maurice once more, "Do you intend to marry one of his kin? Or simply be governess to their children?"

Sophie put Maurice in Belle's arms and then wrapped her arms around herself.

"I do not know. What are you planning on doing? Are you staying?"

"I do not know, now. I thought I would, but to live in the home of Rachet…"

"Do not leave us. Please."

Belle turned away and kept a firmer grip on Maurice, who was squirming.

"You can give him to me, Belle." Sophie said quietly.

Belle laughed humorlessly.

"And allow him to be penned and abused by those powdery faced beasts? No."

"Where are you going?"

"Away." Belle said vaguely, "To- to find Papa."

"Fine." Sophie lowered her gaze and trudged towards the door. Then she turned around and lifted her gorgeous green eyes.

"Belle?"

Belle, who's horse had been trotting away, turned back to peer at her.

"We missed you. And we love you."

Belle smiled, albeit shakily.

"I love you too." she said, that odd hoarseness rising in her throat again, "Tell Colette too. I may not see her agai-"

"Don't say it." Sophie interrupted, "You do not know."

Belle said nothing then, only rode away.

When she reached the tavern, she hesitated. In this village's tavern, decent women were not allowed in- or at least, it was an unsaid rule. There were many people who passed by and spent a few days in- people who Belle did not necessarily want to come in contact with. Her only comfort came in knowing that, no matter how intoxicated, her father would be there. It had not sunk in that he could have changed.

She stuck her tiny dog into the pack hanging off the side of the horse as she slid off. She picked Maurice up again, then went to the crudely hewn door. With a deep breath and a burst of determination, she knocked upon the door. After a moment of doing so continuously, the door opened a crack, and a man stuck his head out. He had greasy gray hair, several missing teeth, and reeked heavily of alcohol. She took an involuntary step back when he leered at her.

"Well, now." he slurred, placing a grubby hand out to take one of hers and, presumably, kiss it. "How now, lady? It is very nice to meet…to meet…" His head bobbed in and out, as though he was swaying.

"Is Jean Moreau in there?" Belle asked, making sure to keep her voice as devoid of familiarity as possible. Everything Aurelie had ever warned her about men was now shouting out in her head.

"Well, 'e might be." the man said, as though seriously thinking about it, "'oo should I say is calling?"

"His daughter, Belle." Belle said.

"Well- that would be you, would it?" he asked drowsily, "A little on the fat side, but still nice, all the same…"

"Excuse me?"

"I'll get 'im. Farewell, m'lady." He disappeared, shutting the door behind him without allowing Belle so much as a peek inside. She was waiting there for so long that she began to suspect that the man had been lying to her, when the door slowly creaked open. A disheveled head inched its way through the opening, until Belle found herself face to face with her unshaven father. Maurice began barking again, and she did nothing to stop him.

"Papa?" she asked, not wanting to believe it was him. Never before had she seen her father looking so horrible.

"Belle?" he asked thickly. She gave him a watery smile and touched his face in disbelief.

"Papa…"

Jean closed the space between them and pulled Belle roughly into his arms. She pulled back, put Maurice down, then, hesitantly, returned her father's embrace.

"What has happened to you, father?" she whispered. Alcohol overcame any familiar scent he might have had, and it scared her. His grip on her grew tighter, and she felt him sobbing into her hair.

"I thought you dead." he said in her ear, "I thought you- and you are my light, you are like Violette, I thought I was alone…"

"Shush." Belle said, patting him, "It is fine. Papa, I need to tell you-"

"I thought you were dead." Jean repeated, pulling away and petting her clumsily, "What would I do, what would I do without you?"

"What have you done without me?" she asked, stepping away from his slackened grip, "Papa, you cannot-"

"I thought you were dead." Jean said a third time. Her fright grew every moment she stood near him. Going into a tavern now seemed nothing, for she had thought at the end she would find her wonderful father. Here before her stood a stranger, talking in an almost maniacal way, and it was all she could do not to be repulsed.

"Papa, you are coming home." Belle said firmly, "We are going home, and Colette will not be married, and we shall be as we were."

"No, no, no." Jean said, "I- I have to go back in you see." It looked like it was taking him extreme effort to string the words together, "I need another drink. Yes, another drink."

"Papa, you cannot-"

"I thought you were dead." he said a final time. He said it gently, bringing his mouth close to her ear as though whispering her an important secret. He stumbled backward and fell upon the door. With perspiration on his forehead as though he'd just been through an extremely harrowing event, he groped for the handle, and, finding it, quickly let himself back in. The door shut in her face, and Belle found herself staring at it in disbelief. She finally wrenched her eyes away to pick up Maurice again when she found that he had disappeared. She called for him once, twice, but he was nowhere to be found.

Her world seemed to be crumbling, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and is planning on doing so! You're so awesome.

I wanted to address two things from last chapter, the first one being Belle's attachment to Misrak. You're right of course. But here's where I went off and tried to form more complex and realistic characters (hehe). She's fifteen years old, never had any relationships other than those of the familial or platonic sort, and then here's this guy who's not bad looking being a lot more forward than a lot of guys at that time in history. She's confused; she doesn't know what to think. Though she's momentarily forgotten, she does still need to deal with the fact that Misrak completely failed to protect her from his sister. Don't worry, it won't be like they proclaim their undying love for each other in the next chapter (if you were hoping for this, I apologize).

The second thing is what people have predicted for the outcome of the story. I feel like I'm being given too much credit for trying to interweave two fairy tales. This whole story (though I came up with names and the more specific plot points) is actually based off a particularly interesting version of the Brothers Grimm's story. I think it might be an older version, and certainly less well known, therefore I'm not sure how many other people have actually read it. Let me just say that this version veers more and more away from the well known version as the story progresses, so don't make assumptions!