Hello again! :) I'm glad to see many and many of you love this story! I love it too

Anyway, to answer a guest review (and I'm sure the same question many of you have), I actually wanted to upload the chapter of how Belle agreed to marry Gaston when I updated the last chapter (Boundless as the sea). But I hadn't quite finished it to where I felt like it could work, and I didn't want to keep you guys waiting so I uploaded a chapter that was ready to go! :)

Now, on with it!

Summary: How Belle and Gaston came to be.
Number of years married:
Zero


~:~ The Beginning ~:~

His body was tense.

His voice was terse.

His mind was cracked.

And his temper was thin.

He nearly had it with Maurice and the man's rantings and ravings - crazy old Maurice, he should have known for Belle and this 'castle' were nowhere in sight!

Oh, he was so close to letting Maurice know how he really felt about all of this- this utter nonsense!

His eyes were manic and he was struggling to remain sane. "There are no such things as these beasts or talking teacups... or magic! But there are wolves, frostbite, and starvation!"

Lefou stood from the carriage. "Deep breaths, Gaston. Deep breaths."

Of which he could not muster. But he tried to listen. "So why don't we just turn around, go back to Villeneuve, I'm sure-"

A sudden scream cut him off shortly followed by the wild neigh of a horse. The sounds came from the path Maurice had just been babbling about mere minutes ago.

"Belle!" Maurice cried. He was filled with brief hope in reuniting with his daughter - but she was in trouble. She needed help-

Though Gaston had been expecting to see Belle, he hadn't been expecting that she would be any sort danger. He was only armed with his pistol and a few odd bullets, but he dashed down the mysterious path Maurice had tried to point out when they first arrived, down toward the sounds of her cries without a second thought.

In the forest, Belle twisted and turned the reins, trying to dodge the wolves that were snapping and leaping. Philippe charged forward, weaving in and out and managing to escape many hungry jaws. She urged him faster and faster but she feared fate wouldn't be on her side that night.

She looked ahead - the clearing, the crossroads were in her sights but it seemed she would never make it. Her hope was a folly. The wolves were zeroing in, getting closer. Philippe could only go so fast.

A strangled cry escaped her as she plummeted down to the earth. Angry teeth had clipped her heel and a pair of powerful jaws had grabbed her dress. She landed sharply on her side. Her ribs protested but she recovered as quickly as she could. But when she stood once more, a wolf with his jaws wide open, ready for the kill, leaped for her.

A gunshot sounded amd the bullet lodged itself clean in the wolf's skull.

Another shot and a dead weight yanked her back. Strong and familiar hands unhooked her brown coat the dead wolf still had in his grip and righted her, shoving her toward the crossroads.

She turned to see her rescuer- Gaston!

The familiar build of his shoulders was the last thing she expected to see- She barely had time to collect her wits before she caught the reins of Philippe and pulled herself back up. The horse neighed in fear as another hungry wolf leaped.

The hunter slapped Philippe and the horse charged off. Belle only faintly heard Gaston's curse of pain and another gunshot before the crossroads approached faster. He was a skilled hunter and a war hero - he could handle a few wolves. Still, it would be cruel to leave him. She contemplated of returning for him-

"Belle!"

All previous thoughts flew from her mind at the sight of Maurice. "Papa!" she cried in relief. He was there waiting for her, and the moment Philippe stopped, he rushed for her just as fast as she for him. They collided, embracing tightly.

"I'm so relieved you're alive," he muttered into her hair. "So relieved Gaston agreed to help me find you."

She let out a breathy laugh and pulled back to look at him - the only person she thought she would never see again.

"How did you escape?" he worried.

"They gave me a room. I used material that was in a wardrobe to make a rope. I escaped out the window." She glanced back at the path that led to the enchanted castle. "He doesn't know I've gone."

"And let's hope he doesn't care," Maurice added gratefully. He pulled her into another tight embrace.

She turned at the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the path. A relieved sigh of her own left her as Gaston appeared from the shadows.

Suddenly, she wasn't sure what to do. He had just saved her life but two days ago, he had been practically implying she marry him - that he could see himself living life as her husband. But she had turned him down because she wanted adventure and a better life than what the village had to offer.

But she got her taste of adventure.

And she didn't like it.

Still, he was the last person she had ever expected to save her. Then she scoffed to herself. He would yet again be hailed as a hero once they made it back to the village.

Nevertheless, when he neared, she spoke. "Thank you. For saving my life."

He shook his head as if it she need not thank him, as if it were second-nature for him to look after her. "It's no trouble, Belle." His voice was confident and his face held a reassuring smile. "Let's get back to Villeneuve. Get you fixed up."

Then he did something she thought he'd never in his right mind do.

He shrugged off his coat and placed it over her shoulders - her brown one still sat in the clutches of the dead wolf back down the path.

She watched him for a moment before she had to concentrate on stepping up into the carriage without aggravating her wounds. His steady hand on her back burned and she settled beside her father, catching his eye.

She was glad to see she wasn't the only one who was a bit addled by Gaston's strange behavior.

The ride to the Villeneuve had been uneventful. Belle huddled against Maurice and tried to keep her wounds as dry as possible. She also kept shooting glances at Gaston- He had a right nasty bite on his arm that he had hastily bound. And Lefou sat in the back, munching on his fingernails. Uneventful, but at least she was out of that castle.

Gaston had returned her and Maurice to their home, instead of the tavern which Belle had assumed he was headed. He ordered Lefou to fetch the doctor then he helped her from the carriage. Her face was hot with fever and her head clouded with pain. She was at least thankful she stayed conscious as Gaston wrapped his arm around her waist and led her into the house. Then she felt rather foolish right before passing out from the radiating pain.

Moderately bruised ribs, slight fever from being out in the cold, and ill with exhaustion - nothing life-threatening. Nothing a little rest couldn't cure.

She had been conscious for about three hours and the doctor had been gone for two before Gaston remarked about being a great hunter who doesn't and will never waste his time on rabbits - how he would be a loyal partner for a woman.

She winced. She wasn't prey. She would never be such prey, especially for him. He was brash and arrogant and she waved off his words. He seemed to let go of a sigh.

The sun had set and risen in the morning, and on the steps of her home, he was standing there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand with another hint and a confident smile on his lips.

She looked at him and hesitated. After a mere glance in his pleading grey eyes, she took the proffered gift but didn't acknowledge his words. She sent him on his way, ignoring the confused fluttering of her heart as she watched him feign confidence to hide his defeated ego as he walked the streets of the town.

The next day, Maurice was taking some fresh air after being cooped up in the basement working all day. Gaston bid the man good day before inquiring if Belle was in. Maurice regarded the man carefully then he nodded his head. The scrutiny did not pass Gaston and he changed his mind about asking Belle that day.

"Maurice…"

Belle heard voices speaking on the front porch. Papa had been gone for a very long while. She set down her sketchbook and opened the door. She stopped short. "Gaston."

The man in red flicked his eyes to her as he still carried on his conversation with Maurice. His mouth curved into that half-smile.

Belle made to return inside. But Papa stopped her - said he had to get back to work, said that Gaston wanted to speak to her, said to have fun. She did a double take as he passed. She opened her mouth to object but Gaston beat her to it.

His overconfident grin was on his face and he looked exceptionally pleased. He offered her his hand but she refused to take it. She folded her arms across her chest.

"Can I help you, Gaston?" she asked tersely.

He chuckled arrogantly. "So, Belle, my love, it's nothing elaborate but I meant what I said. I will be loyal and caring. And I can promise you I will protect and love you." He pulled out a thin gold band with a single ruby on it. "Will you marry me?"

She tried not to eye the ring suspiciously. Where on earth did he steal that from? What poor woman was now searching for her lost ring? She let out an uninterested laugh but tried not to give him an uneasy look.

"Gaston-" she prepared to argue.

"At least think about, Belle," he quickly spoke over her. "Please."

She pursed her lips and looked at him and he looked right back. She noticed his mouth was not set in a firm and annoyed and demanding line. The lines of his face were soft and calm. Though he stood there teetering on desperation, he also seemed… dare she say, patiently waiting for an answer.

Then his brow crinkled with another plead and she actually didn't have the heart to turn him down right then and there. "Fine. I'll think about it. I'll give you an answer tomorrow."

His hope skyrocketed.

"Good evening, Gaston," she said in parting. She backed into the house and closed the front door. She leaned against the door and groaned to herself.

But she had said she'd think about. She gave him her word.

Gaston had fought in the war and had returned, unlike many men who entered the war as young lads. He was hailed a hero by the town but he never willingly spoke of the soldiers he killed or the things he saw on the battlefield. The villagers were mad for stories and tales but he always seemed reluctant to share such nightmares, but they cheered and filled his tankard with ale. Who was he to turn down a good meal, good drink, and good company?

And since his return, he had been successful in his own way. He had established himself as a hunter who, at certain times of the year, received very good money for his kills. There weren't many successful men about, not many who could hold their own in a marriage bond, and not many who were as skilled as Gaston.

Besides, she had had her fill of adventure. She had her fill of searching for the prince in one of her fairytales. Gaston wasn't a prince - nowhere near one, but he was familiar... in this small provincial town. Familiar and safe.

He had his flaws, but he wasn't that awful beast. He was arrogant, but he treated her kindly. He was narcissistic but somewhere deep down (she hoped) he had the ability to be thoughtful.

And if what he said was true, then that would mean he was looking to settle down and have a family.

The next day, she found herself at the door of his room in the tavern. She had given him and his proposal a fair chance, mulled over the recent events, and had come to a conclusion.

And she was about to speak to him about said conclusion.

But she was a woman of dignity and independence, and she was not going to simply be his little wife...

"Compromises?!" he let out as soon as her position on his proposal left her mouth.

She sent him a look.

He scoffed hurriedly. "Belle, what is going on in that head of yours? Compromises?" He feigned offense. "Really, do I seem like the type of man who would marry only for looks?"

"Yes," her answer was quick and simple.

He narrowed his eyes and straightened. Then he realized he'd have to hear her out if she was to be his. "Very well, what are these 'compromises'?"

And he listened - or rather, he sat there pretending to pay attention - to all she had to say… which ended up being a quite lot. He caught bits and pieces, something about freedom, privacy, reading books, being seen as an equal..

Then when she finally finished and patiently waited for his response, he gave it without hesitation. He produced the simple band again.

She accepted.

He slid the ring onto her finger - a perfect fit.

She grew curious. "Where did you get the ring?"

Grey eyes met hers. They clouded with an emotion she could not explain for a mere second before they cleared. Had she not been watching him closely, she wouldn't have noticed. "It belonged to my mother. She gave it to me shortly before I left for the war, in hopes I could give it to.. you."

"Oh." Her cheeks heated and she felt guilty for thinking he had stolen it. She tried to remember what she looked like or what her name was, but it had been so long. The woman had passed away while he had been gone. "What was her name?"

"Agatha."

"Yes, right. I remember," she said quietly.

Gaston smiled then. He had finally succeeded in getting Belle to marry him. He also knew her 'compromises' or 'stubborn antics' wouldn't last long after they became husband and wife.

He just knew.

Only, she was headstrong and moody.

"I'm not moody, Gaston," she replied from the next room. "You are."

He folded his arms and harrumphed, only then thinking he should have been paying attention to all she had had to say.