To those who suggested this little scene
To those who love Belle and Gaston's sweet moments
And to the reviewer who felt that Belle was a bit of a jerk (and I agree with you a bit there). I also took some inspiration from your review.
I dedicate this chapter to you! And hopefully, it turns out alright
Happy Reading! :)
Summary: Twenty-two months it took for Belle to feel those three words.
Number of years married: 22 months
~:~ Love is beauty, Love is pure ~:~
Belle hoisted Nathaniel on her hip as hooves sounded just outside the village walls.
Gaston had been gone for five weeks on his annual hunting trip with old army buddies.
She caught sight of his familiar red leather jacket and her chest tightened in anticipation of greeting him. She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She bounced Nathaniel and pointed, "There's Papa," she told him with a happy smile. "We missed Papa very much, didn't we love?"
"Pa-pa," eight-month-old Nathaniel squealed.
Belle kissed his chubby cheek. "Good boy."
She watched from her spot hidden in the crowd. Nerves were shaking her and all she wanted was her husband to dismount his horse and make his way to her. But she was too deep in the crowd - he would not see her.
His absence had wrecked her.
From the moment Gaston slid that ring on her finger in the empty church, she knew she would never - not in a million years - turn into one of those wives:
The ones that watched the window constantly to see when their husbands rode up to the house.
The ones that cried themselves to sleep because the bed was cold and empty.
The ones that wept when their husbands returned after long journeys.
The ones that told their husbands the moment they set foot through the door that there was no other man in the whole world for them.
The ones that forbade their husbands to leave like that again for it tore them apart to be separated.
No. Belle just knew she would never be like them.
Gaston and her were so different! He was forward and arrogant. She was kind but fierce. They butted heads more often than not - it was more of a roommate relationship rather than a husband/wife relationship.. wasn't it?
But he had done what he could to please her… and how had she acted in return?
In the back of her mind, she knew these five weeks to herself had been what was best. It showed her what was sitting right in front of her nose.
The first week had been fine. She went about her usual business - taking care of Nathaniel, doing chores around the house, and preparing supper. But when the second week rolled around, she found her heart had begun to ache.
Gaston would normally rise early at the start of the week. He'd tend to both Daisy and Magnifique and visit her early-riser father a few houses away. Then when the villagers woke, he'd take a walk about the market, picking up a jar of Belle's favorite jam and glancing briefly at the fine handwoven materials Belle insisted he need not buy.
He'd return home where he'd join Nathaniel on the floor. He'd lie on his side and let their son clamber on him with strong fists and legs. He'd watch struggling six-and-a-half-month old Nathaniel fist his little hands in the sleeve of his shirt and pull himself up. His hand would ghost over his son's back, careful to catch him should he fall but not enough pressure to hold him upright. Belle would watch from her stance in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes, making the room spotless for the mess of supper. Eventually, Nathaniel would fall back and Gaston would gently guide him to the floor again, a proud and beaming chuckle rumbling his chest.
The next day, Belle would wake alone but she knew he'd be in the town-square, pumping water into two large buckets. He'd haul them home then set to work in the outskirts of Villeneuve, chopping wood, scavenging for wild berries that she could add to their garden, hunting a few hares for the baker who paid good money for them. She'd be mashing Nathie's food by the time he would walk in the front door, sweat beading his upper lip and brow.
He'd pass through and into the kitchen, kiss her temple, and snatch up a rag and wipe at his sweaty skin. She'd turn and scold him, telling him to use another cloth, one that wasn't meant for wiping clean dishes. He'd snort out a response and grin and take the rag with him as he headed for the door again.
But she'd stop him just as he stepped outside. He'd return, the same curious question always in his eyes. She'd hand him a glass of clean and cool water. And as she lie in bed during his absence, she realized that the curious look in his eyes always faltered, turning hurt for a brief moment before lighting up with soft humor as he took the glass. Then he'd hand the cup back to her and his fingers would brush hers and a blush would dust his cheeks ever so lightly.
He'd be gone until sunset when he'd join her for supper. His mood would be content but then supper conversation would be quiet. Both would watch with love and curiosity as Nathie tried new foods - some would be a hit, others a miss, but both held a smile for their son.
After supper, he'd pick up her drawings of new inventions only to have them snatched from his hands. He'd follow her and begin to pry but only get an armful of Nathaniel instead. She would curl up on the armchair in the living room and he'd tend to the fire. Nathie would begin to mumble a few incoherent words before Gaston would urge him to say "Mama" or "Papa". Belle would smile but continue to scribble down ideas.
Soon, Nathie would be asleep and she and Gaston would turn in for the night. This night would be uneventful as his day was long, but he would be there.
The days that followed until a new week began were nearly alike.
She would wake with him still lying beside her, a soft smile on his face - one that a man who struggled in courting his long love had. Some days, Nathaniel would be in his arms, freshly bathed and fed. She would curl into Gaston's side and watch Nathaniel bask in the attention. Then her mind would drift to the idea of having another child…
The sun would reach their window and she'd rise for the day. She would head to the market, sometimes with Nathaniel on her hip and sometimes with the company of Gaston. She'd do her usual purchasing bread, buying some eggs, and giving Agathe a few spare coins.
But when she didn't have spare coins, she gave Agathe half of her bought bread - now that she had an extra mouth to feed of her own.
"No jam?" was the usual reply from the woman.
To which Gaston's bitten reply is barely contained. But Belle was always quick and calm and collected. She would hand Agathe a jar with no fuss.
"Thank you!"
"You're welcome," she would smile. Then she'd yank Gaston's arm and they'd walk home, all the while listening to him mutter about how ungrateful Agathe, for being a beggar, was!
"She should be thankful you gave her a piece of your bread! Wanting jam? She has no right to make such demands!" And he would continue to huff and puff until they entered the house and Nathaniel's eyes grew droopy.
They'd put him down for his nap in comfortable silence. His rant pushed aside as she let his words slide. It was Gaston after all - he was candid. Very candid.
Chores were done throughout the day and then supper would be made. Then they'd retire for the night.
He'd already be under the covers by the time she returned after checking on Nathie one last time. She'd slide beside him and he'd tug her close. She'd resist much and he'd relent a bit after a light struggle. She'd fall asleep, her face several inches away from his but during his absence, she wished she had spent those nights pressed into his warmth.
In short, these five weeks had been torture. She couldn't believe how eager she was to see his haughty smile and that swell cleft in his chin and his bursting ego. Though she still so loathed to encourage his faults, his long absence-
Her breath hitched as he drew near.
She winded her way through the maze of gathered and cheering villagers - to the fountain. She reached its stone and pulled herself up. From her new perch, she could see Gaston and his boastful grin as he trotted through.
He and the others were headed for the square where they would surely announce that the hunt had been a success and all would feast upon the spoils! But Gaston's horse took a turn.
Belle's heart was in her throat as she realized he had seen her. She gripped Nathaniel tighter and tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. She may have changed about missing him over a long while but she would not be one of those wives and weep at their reunion.
But seeing his standard smile transform into his overconfident grin that seemed to be reserved for her, had tears forming in her eyes. She knew it was over - she'd make a fool of herself and cry.
Magnifique stopped and he was there. His grin turned softer and the corners of his eyes crinkled softly. He was truly smiling with his eyes and she managed a watery one in return.
He hadn't been expecting her to be there - she never had before. He would leave Villeneuve for a week at most and when he returned, she would be at home tending to things around the house. She would be completely immersed in her work, not bothering to greet him with a kiss when he walked through the door. Seeing her here now was certainly a surprise.
"Belle-" His voice sounded surprised but confident and throaty all at once.
And it broke her.
She sniffled. Her tears were already falling. She reached up to him with her free arm and wrapped it around his neck, anchoring her hand in the dip where his neck met his shoulders. She struggled in composing herself, but his familiar scent of warmth and woods had fresh tears form and soak his skin.
He was slightly taken aback. These unexpected tears of hers startled him. With his strong arm, he lifted her effortlessly onto the saddle in front of him. He creased his brow as her shoulders shook uncontrollably with every sob.
A pit of uneasiness settled in his gut as he held her. He looked at Nathaniel, worried that something had happened to their son while he was gone, but the boy's pallor appeared healthy… though he too was worried of his mother's sudden tears.
He attempted in a gentle tone but feared it sounded protective and harsh. "What is it, my love?"
She pulled back, noting that his hand pressed further into the small of her back. Making sure she didn't fall backwards from Magnifique's great height. She shifted Nathaniel whose arms immediately clung to her neck - his way of thanking that she was okay. She softly ran her hand along the side of Gaston's face. "I… I missed you," she sighed in quiet admittance.
The worried crease that tugged at the corners of his mouth and at his brow softened and soon he let out a chuckle. "Then what's all this for?" he asked through his laughter.
Her brown eyes were still watery. She shrugged.
His chuckle dwindled as her eyes were not filled with the mirth he was expecting. "Belle."
So much for not being one of those wives… "Because I was a mess-
"The first week, I've done it before, but the second week… I missed our nights together. I missed you bringing home pheasant for supper." Her voice was getting wobbly again. "I missed your hearty laugh and your- that smile of yours.
"I missed those sweet kisses you'd give me everyday even though I hardly deserved them, because I do have my moods and I've treated you unfairly-" Her tears fell again. "All you've done is love and care for me and our son.
"And I thought I would marry you because I had mulled it over. I thought I would because you were familiar. I thought I would only gain a friend... I thought I would continue my life as my own but-" She placed her hand on the side of his face, ghosting her thumb over the curve of his chin. "I love you, Gaston."
... had he heard right?
He had been repeating- insisting! those words to her since they were married. Twenty-two long months he had told her and not once had he gotten a response. He had been coming around to the fact that he might not ever get one. And that would eventually be fine.
She was his wife, but that didn't mean she had to fall in love with him.. Right?
She was outspoken and he was candid but both were determined and stubborn. She was determined in not encouraging his behavior. He was determined in pleasing and charming her.
Twenty-two long months and the words had finally passed her lips. And he felt proud and a little smitten.
"Say it again," he requested more than demanded. His voice was deep.
She bit her lip and exhaled, "I love you."
A grin grew on Gaston's face, and suddenly Belle was aware at how close their faces were. She licked her lips in anticipation. It was happening. This was happening-
Nathaniel let out a small wail and buried his face in Belle's neck. Gaston grew rigid and alert and Belle tightened her hold on their son. It didn't take long for Gaston to see who his son was hiding from.
"Captain Aloïs," he greeted.
"Captain Gaston," Aloïs said in return. "Madame." He nodded and tipped his hat to Belle in greeting. "Are you joining us at the tavern? Jérémie is set to leave later. We'd thought you'd already be there!"
Gaston chuckled, his hand absentmindedly joining Belle's against Nathaniel's back. "I was on my way." He stole a glance at Belle. His mouth curved into another boastful half-smile and his chin raised a bit. "Took a detour."
Aloïs laughed. "Well, beggin' your pardon for startling the little guy." He tipped his hat again. "See you there, Gaston."
"Aye," he returned.
Belle turned and watched the other man trot to the stables to retire his horse. "I suppose you want to join them for one last drink?" she said, raising an eyebrow.
True. That's what he had planned. But Gaston wasn't going to let her first admission of love go unnoticed, unanswered, unrewarded, unravaged. He grunted, "Maybe later."
She laughed lightly. "What does that mean?"
He grinned overconfidently, showing lots of teeth.
He urged Magnifique forward. Belle settled comfortably against him and held Nathaniel snugly as the horse moved. She soon noticed where he was headed. Her face heated.
He swayed with the movement of the horse. His lips were pursed arrogantly. His chin was still raised high and his shoulders were set with determination and pride and desire. "Maurice. Is that ol' bean home?"
She lifted her head, blushing as her father's house neared. "Yes."
He took advantage of the access and bit her earlobe. She started. "I love you too, my beauty," he whispered huskily.
P.S. Gaston's thoughts on Agathe were exactly what I thought when I saw the deleted scene, so you hate on Gaston for that, you hate on me x)
