Part 2 (or Part 3 if you're counting Night terrors)
Whoo boy, I'll tell you it took forever and a day for me to get this chapter right :/
Summary: The night of Double the Frustration, Belle and Gaston decide their equally stubborn behavior and anger towards each other have gone on for long enough.
Number of years married: 1
~:~ Late talks ~:~
That night...
She jumped when a blanket was placed over her shoulders. She turned her head at the gesture and gave a light smile. Her heart gave a bit of a leap when she realized his gentle hands lingered on her shoulders for a long moment. She went to glance up at him but he moved away, instead sitting beside her.
...well, with a good-sized-Lefou space between them.
He hadn't been cross when she had woken well after sunset. He had made supper and much to her dismay, her stomach had growled loudly at the sight. The meal was uneventful - an uncomfortable silence between them... the subject neither wished to acknowledge then.
Now, supper was over and they were sitting in front of the fire - at ease and ready to talk.
She nervously fidgeted her hands as she watched him take out his hunting knife and a new chunk of wood - obviously trying to distract himself from the tension between them.
She wondered why it took everything in her to speak. He would never strike her. He wouldn't become red-hot angry with her. Why was she so scared?
Because when he had raised his voice and snapped at her, she could see a little glimpse of what was possible within him...
She shook her head, throwing the thought out of her mind.
"Gaston, about all of this-"
He felt guilt stir up within himself. She shouldn't have to apologize for anything. "It's not your fault. None of it is."
But she tried again. She couldn't just sit back and let him believe this was all his doing. "I shouldn't have pried. These- these night terrors are something you've been dealing with your entire life. Of course you know how to handle them- I mean, you're strong and independent and well... it was silly of me to think I could somehow make a difference and make you feel better."
Her words cracked his heart. When he spoke, his voice was scratchy and quiet with regret. "I have no excuses, Belle. I shouldn't have snapped at you." He set down his knife and wood and turned toward her.
She hesitantly did the same.
He looked like he was having a hard time getting the proper words out. And he was - he just didn't want to say the wrong thing and have her even more hurt. "It's... it's not because you're carrying our child... but it's because I love you, and that's not what a good man does to his wife.."
She bit her lip lightly and looked down at her hands. To hear him loathe himself and his actions sounded so odd and yet so humbling, but now was not the time to dwell on it.
He gave a grunt. "You must think me like my father."
At that, her eyes snapped to his. "Oh, Gaston, no I do not. I would never-"
The corner of his mouth twitched - she answered too fast. He gave her a pointed look.
And she knew he saw right through her. She lowered her eyes and barely refrained from shrugging. "Well, some of it has crossed my mind but that was-" She looked up as she cut herself off.
His mouth tightened then and he looked angry.
She felt at a loss. "I'm sorry, Gaston, you can't expect me to be perfect. I know even though you most certainly think you are, you're not perfect. I'm sorry I've seen you in that light - like your father... but something inside me has told me you'd never do such a thing to me."
His eyes met hers and they softened slightly, as did his jaw.
She wasn't perfect. He wasn't perfect. Their marriage wasn't perfect.
It didn't have a great start to it.
But she couldn't bring herself to outright blame him for their rocky start. Even though he was intolerable at times with his arrogance and overwhelming narcissism, she had had a hand in it too: her strict belief that he could never change and refusing to see subtle change in him.
She let her mind wander to him and his actions in these past year and some. She realized that sometimes - when his narcissism was low - he had tried to show her he could be a better man.
Her heart twisted with pain as she recalled his face each time she let him know she wasn't falling for his little act.
And trouble had sparked between them.
But no matter how put-out he was from being sent off to the tavern because she needed some space, or how bothered and upset both were at each other for the smallest but most aggravating things, he never- never failed to tell her of his love for her.
And that upset her the most because those three words were still something she could not give in return.
And she finally knew how torturous it was for him not to hear.
Her throat tightened and threatened to close further when she realized he was watching her. She could see the concerned dip to his brow and tears formed in her eyes.
She cursed to herself - nowadays she turned weepy at all the wrong points.
He couldn't stand to see her cry. He tentatively reached out to her, resting his hand on her knee.
She looked up and a tear fell.
"Do not blame yourself, my beauty. I should never shut you out. You only wished to help."
Her bottom lip trembled before she let down the floodgates.
He longed to pull her close and give her comfort but he was unsure if she wished for more contact. He would hate to drive her away.
She shook her head and his chest tightened. He feared the worst.
"Don't ever treat me that way again. I know we've been at odds but..."
He gave a firm nod. "I will not, my love. I give you my word."
She wiped the tears from her face and gave a shy and soft smile. Then she reached across the space, resting her hand on his wrist.
He turned his palm over and threaded their fingers together. She crossed the space between them and hesitantly rested her head on his shoulder. He smiled - a weight lifting from his chest. He looked to her for permission, and she gave it. He rested his other hand on their peaceful unborn child.
"Thank you, Gaston," she said quietly. She inhaled his scent and felt safe. "I... I admire you."
The corner of his mouth lifted a bit. She wouldn't give him false hope... she must truly mean her words. "And I the same."
"You admire yourself?" she teased.
"Oh Belle, what's not to admire," he chuckled. He kissed her forehead. "And you, my darling."
The next morning...
Gaston - minding his own business, mind you - untied Magnifique from his post and led him to the road that led from Villeneuve. He slid his foot into the stirrup and was in the midst of pulling himself up when a sack of potatoes hit the side of his body. He started as did his horse. He pulled on the reins then turned angrily toward his assailant.
Then that anger disappeared the moment he realized who it was.
He cleared his throat and wanted to avoid her eyes - though he didn't because if he did, she'd see right through him. "Afternoon, Sage," he cleared his throat.
"Monsieur Gaston," she began tightly. Her usual bubbly demeanor replaced with one of distaste. "Have you heard the rumors?"
He turned around and busied himself with checking over his hunting gear. "Rumors? Can't say I have. What is it you've heard?"
He flinched as her potatoes landed on the saddle beside him.
"That somewhere down your lane, a man has been treating his wife ill."
He gave her a sharp look. "I assure you it was not me."
She narrowed her eyes, not believing him for a second. "Then you wouldn't mind if I dropped in and saw your wife, would you?"
"No, by all means," he grunted.
He trusted Belle - even though she had every right in the world to say whatever she wanted about him and the way their household has been, especially these past few weeks.
He made to mount his horse but she stopped him again. "Stay, Monsieur Gaston. I'd like a word with you after."
"Of course," he said gruffly.
Belle opened the door at the knock. "Oh, Sage. What a surprise! I wasn't expecting you until next week."
The midwife took in her girl's appearance and beamed, "Oh my, you look radiant."
She blushed. "Oh stop. I get enough of that on a daily basis from Gaston." She stepped aside. "Do come in. What can I do for you?"
Sage pursed her lips. "I am not one for gossip but there are some troubling rumors and I had to come to find out if they were true."
"Oh?" she frowned. "And what are these rumors?"
"That your husband has been terribly mistreating you."
Her jaw slackened. "Oh my."
Sage nodded gravely. "In your condition, I had to see if they were true. Given your husband's past-"
Belle pressed a very convincing palm to her chest and let forth an equally convincing appalled gasp. "He has never! No, no. What you heard was simply not true."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! Oh, Sage. You've seen him. You've seen how- oddly but caring he is. He hasn't done anything close to those rumors."
But the midwife looked skeptical. "Well, yesterday, one of your neighbors heard shouting."
Belle inwardly cringed, remembering what had happened. "Yes, I had sent Gaston out to the market and I had a small mishap here. I shouted for him but I forgot he was away from the house."
"Ah yes. It is common for expecting women to forget their wits," she replied.
Belle noticed Sage seemed disappointed at her words.
"But Belle. Truthfully. Has he?"
"No, he hasn't," she said.
Sage gave her a knowing look. "Any disagreements as of late? Marital trouble?"
"Good heavens, no!" Belle most certainly lied. "I mean, he may be brash and arrogant, but we're fine."
She felt overwhelming... admiration for her husband as the thought of him being imprisoned and gone from her and their child crossed her mind. Tears prickled the backs of her eyes.
Oh no. Now was not the time for hormones. She fought against it briefly before she gave in. "Oh drats! I'm sorry. Do forgive me. I don't know why I'm suddenly emotional."
Gaston entered the house and Belle wanted to cringe. Now was also not the time to see his heartwrenching concern for her.
"Fine time for your appearance," Sage scolded and Belle had to agree.
He tried to remain unseen. "Forgot my spare quiver."
"Here."
He heard her wobbly voice and felt his heart drop. He saw the quiver in her hand. "Thanks," he said, taking it. Then he stuttered, "A-are you okay?"
She nodded and gave a light chuckle. "Fine time for your appearance," she echoed.
The weight lifted from his chest at her smile.
"Go. Enjoy your day," she nodded.
Sage folded her arms and gave him an expectant look.
He cleared his throat and flashed Belle a smile. "Right. I'll see you tonight." He kissed her temple and turned to leave.
"I still wish to talk to you, Monsieur Gaston."
"Of course. I'll just be outside then."
Sage stood in the house for twenty minutes more before she felt content about the whole matter. Then she called Gaston in.
Though he had been listening in on the rest of their conversation and knew she was in relatively good spirits now, he still expected her to tell him she wasn't falling for this act of his and that she saw right through him. But Belle had reached for his hand halfway during her opening statement and placed their joined hands over their unborn child. Gaston noticed this stopped her from being so harsh. Instead, she gave him the harshest scrutiny she could muster while being polite so as not to upset Belle.
The hunter kept her gaze until the midwife closed the door behind her and she was well down the lane. He let out a long exhale. He turned to the woman before him. "I do not deserve you."
"No, you don't," she said simply with a smile.
He gave a soft chuckle and moved to head out, but she caught his wrist.
"Don't.. don't go hunting today."
His brow creased. "Why not?"
She turned away, suddenly shy and a bit embarrassed. "It's.. it's nothing. Nevermind."
He watched her carefully and he nodded, "I'll stay home, if that's what you want."
She looked up at him with hope in her eyes. "That's what I want."
His finger traced the curve of her jaw. "I love you."
"And I... I admire you."
He kissed her and she brought him closer, molding their bodies together.
Great, now I feel all gooey inside ^o^
