Back in April when I visited home, I watched Anne of Green Gables (1985) and I remembered how beautifully perfect these two films are. I fell in love with Anne all over again *hugs* So I thought I'd make this chapter about Gilbert who I named after Gilbert Blythe. Besides, we haven't seen much of his story ;)
And since this story just revolves around Gilbert, I'm only putting the summary.
Enjoy! :)
Summary: The kind-hearted soul, Belle and Gaston's second child, and Madeleine's first and only love.
~:~ Gilbert ~:~
Meeting Julia, 2
Nathaniel had turned up his nose at the sight and jumped off his father's lap, scampering away to do more important things than look at a puffy little red thing. Belle had shot Gaston a glare - she could see every bit of the man in their oldest - and the hunter had the good graces to look guilty. She pursed her lips vaguely then turned to her next little love - Gilbert.
Gaston lifted him onto his lap and Belle smoothed down the fabric surrounding the newborn's face. Both watched the little boy for any sort of reaction.
Gilbert, just over two, sat staring at this new being for several moments. His mouth was in a small pout but Belle could see the wheels in his head turning as he looked at the baby as if he could figure out exactly what he was looking at and why.
"Gilby, this is your new sister," Belle said softly. She was pleased he hadn't run off like Nathaniel but his silence was still worrisome. She looked to her husband for help.
Gaston shifted him closer and gently brushed the newborn's cheek with his finger. "Julia is her name."
Baby Julia gave a quiet squeak at being bothered by her papa.
"Ju-eea?" Gilbert repeated.
Belle smiled. "Yes, sweetheart. And she's going to stay with us." That was something Nathaniel didn't quite seem to understand even though he was the oldest. "She's part of our family now."
Gilbert still concentrated on Julia. He reached forward and gently swiped her cheek with his finger.
She squeaked again and decided she'd finally have a look at who in the heck kept bothering her.
He pulled his hand away and looked fearful that he had done something wrong. He shied away for a moment before realizing his papa was nudging him closer. He was still worried but he got closer to this new sister.
He met her eyes and touched her chubby cheek again.
Belle held her breath, fearing her daughter would have a short temper and not take to anyone bothering her. She glanced at Gaston when he squeezed her shoulder in assurance.
But Julia didn't make a fuss. In fact, she rather liked this boy she was looking at. She made a little content sound and Gilbert smiled. "Ju-eea," he said again.
A weight lifted from Belle's chest at that. She gave a soft smile at her husband's kiss to her temple. He set Gilbert down, letting the little boy run off to join his older brother.
Gilbert took to Julia at first sight... well, after a few minutes. And he stayed that way in the years that followed and for the rest of his life.
Granpapa, 6
Maurice looked at the small child playing with wooden blocks. It had been a while since just one child was in his presence.
What he did notice was that his knees weren't as young as they used to be. But Belle had said - quite repeatedly, poor thing was in a haze taking care of her other three children, all down with colds - that Gilbert made no fuss about different activities.
But it had been two hours since the boy started playing with the blocks... Surely it had burnt out his attention long ago and he was just too shy to-
A small tug to his waistcoat snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Granpapa, when is Mama gonna come back?" he asked.
Maurice had no idea himself. "I don't know, dear boy," he offered. Then he looked around for something new to distract the boy - or keep him entertained. "You know what, I think I have some books from when your mama was a little girl."
"Books?" His eyes widened and his mouth curved into a smile. "I like books. Mama reads them to me every night before bed."
"Wonderful," Maurice beamed. He glanced out the window in time to see the sun set over the horizon. "Well then, you wouldn't mind me reading you a bedtime story then?"
He smiled and shook his head. He scampered off into Belle's old bedroom and clambered onto the bed, eagerly waiting for this new bedtime story. He wondered if Granpapa would read books the same as Mama...
"What book are we reading?" he asked excitedly from his spot underneath the quilt.
Maurice gave a comical hum. "I don't know..." He pulled up a chair to the bed's side. "What sort of books do you like? I have... oh dear, what do I have? Ah yes," he said, snatching up a few from the shelf. "Treasure Island, Romeo and Juliet - your mother always wanted me to read that whenever I came across it, then of course, after she married Gaston and I knew they were going to have kids, I searched and searched for this book and well, you know the rest - I also have Beauty and the Beast..."
Gilbert patted the empty space on the bed beside him. "Up here, Granpapa," he smiled.
"Alright," he relented. He took his place on the bed and covers beside the little boy. "Now then-"
"Treasure Island," he requested. "Mama hasn't read that one yet."
Maurice chuckled and opened the book. "Treasure Island it is..."
And he read and read and read until little Gilbert's eyes started to droop. He set down the book when his grandson's breathing evened out. Then he sighed tiredly too. But he looked up at the light knock on the doorframe. "Belle."
She smiled. "Everything go well?"
He stood. "What- oh, yes. Out like a light."
She hugged him. "I'm sorry we had to leave him so suddenly."
He shook his head and kissed hers. "Do not worry, my dear. How are the others?"
"Over the worst," she sighed tiredly.
He studied her. "Are you alright?"
Gaston appeared behind her so fast Maurice blinked. "Yes, she is. Go back to the house, my love. You need rest."
"I'm fine," she resisted weakly.
"You're about to topple over," he said. "Don't make me carry you."
She relented but then a little voice called her. She smiled softly and went to her son, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Yes, my little darling?" she cooed, softly brushing his hair out of his face.
"Can I stay with Granpapa for a few days? I like it here," he asked tiredly. "He's got the amazingest books."
She let out a small laugh. "Of course you can, my sweet. Papa and I will be back then, alright?"
He gave a sleepy nod and she kissed his head.
Blueberries, 11
It always starts out as one thing then ends something entirely different...
That's what Gilbert could hear his Mama already scold him with. I mean, sure it started off as a picking berries day... and sure it was currently ending with eating those same berries that just so happened to be for Mama and the blueberry pie tomorrow... "Hey, Uncle Lefou-" But a snort cut him off as he looked at said man.
Lefou, slouched against the tree, made a grumbled noise as he tried to reach for the basket that was just out of reach. "Just... one... more..." he said a bit dramatically.
The boy tossed one at him, grinning when it bounced off his nose. He snatched a handful for himself.
"Oi, no fair," Lefou complained. "I picked most of them."
"Well I pointed them out to you," he laughed, eating his handful. "I should get the last ones."
"Last ones?" he continued to gripe. He struggled in sitting up properly. "There were at least twenty last ones."
Gilbert gave a shrug. "Besides, Mama's going to be mad we didn't bring back berries."
His uncle groaned again and flopped down on his back. Very dramatically. "Again, life was good while it lasted."
The boy laughed heartily. "Uncle Lefou, why are you always scared of Mama?"
"Because that woman is not afraid of anything," he replied honestly. "Besides, I still have a feeling she knows it wasn't a snake that spooked Magnifique... She might be out for blood."
Gilbert frowned at that. "But Papa would never lie to Mama."
Lefou looked over at him. "Yes, well, there be a first for everything, kid."
But it wasn't the first time Gilbert had seen his mama wear such an upset expression, with her arms crossed, standing on the porch as they trudged up the steps with a very empty basket. Gilbert felt his full stomach drop to his feet. He didn't dare look up though he glanced at Uncle Lefou and could see the same fearful look.
"Where are the berries I asked for?" she asked unusually calmly.
Gilbert shrugged and spoke faster than he could stop himself. "Uncle Lefou wanted a snack."
She gave him a stern look. "Don't lie, Gilb."
His chuckle died down. "Sorry, Mama. We got hungry... and then they disappeared." Which was true. They did disappear.
"Mhmm," she scolded. "Supper's inside."
Both made stuffed noises but obeyed her glare.
"And don't be sick in my house," she warned.
Both nodded and made weak stuffed noises and sat at the table.
Lefou reluctantly unfolded his napkin and tried to look ready to eat the food that was heaped on the table. He wished he hadn't eaten so many blueberries.
Julia cleared her throat and tried to get her brother's attention. She pressed her napkin to the corner of her mouth when he looked up. But he didn't understand. She did it again and again and was stopped by Thomas' elbow. She glared at her younger brother but the boy grinned widely.
Belle sent her husband a look and he grinned. She stopped beside Gilbert, pulled out her napkin, and wiped his face clean.
"Mama..." he grumbled. He tried to pull his face away but she pulled him right back. "I got it, I'll do it-"
"I'm sure you will," she said, wiping the last bit of blueberry juice from the corner of his mouth.
Hunting Woes, 13
Gilbert raised the rifle through the branches and aimed it at a small rabbit searching for food. He felt his father's presence behind him and a sudden burst of confidence came over him. He could do this, he could do this, Julia just had beginners luck, no he would be a pro, he would be able to out-shoot anyone for miles, after all he was the son of the greatest hunter, oh yes, by god he could do this, he could-
His foot snapped a twig and the animal went running. "Darn it," he sighed.
His father's chuckle made his face hot with embarrassment. "It's alright. Try again."
"I'm terrible at this," he grumbled. He jumped slightly when a hand clapped his shoulder and squeezed it affectionately.
"No, you're not," he heard his papa assure. "It takes practice."
He snorted at that, "And in my case, lots of practice."
Gaston sensed the boy's irritation with not getting it on the first try. He knew Gilbert was comparing himself to Julia when she had gone hunting with him. He knew it had been beginners luck but he had a vague feeling his son was a perfectionist, just like Belle... Who was he kidding? He was a perfectionist too.
He cleared his throat, trying to cover up his chuckle. "Here," he said, adjusting the rifle. "Aim it high. Hold it steady-"
"But it's heavy," he complained.
"You'll get used to it."
He pouted and Gaston saw Belle in him at that.
"Here, try again," he encouraged.
And he tried again and again - about three more times - before giving up dramatically in a bubble of defeat. So much so, he was put out all the way home. He had shot nothing. Nothing! Zero! Zilch! Not a single rabbit!
He started to drag his feet as they neared the house. "But Papa, even Julia shot a raccoon! I wouldn't be surprised if Agatha could shoot one, at her age even!"
"Oh, stop," Gaston finally chuckled, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. "You did just fine."
He looked at his father curiously. "How long did it take you to learn to shoot something?"
Gaston's insides tightened a bit. His true answer was during the war, but he did not wish for his children to ever imagine their father as a killer... even though he served his country with honor.
"A few years," he eventually managed.
Gilbert's eyebrows raised dramatically - and comically since the young man had always been known to be serious. "Years?" He just about groaned. "Oh, that's it then. I'll never be able to shoot!"
It was Gaston's turn to give a curious look. "I see Lefou's been a terrible influence on you. That melodramatic man."
Gilbert's pout deepened, and if Gaston saw Belle in his features before, it was all her now.
"Gil, you're starting off just fine." He pulled his son close and kissed his head.
He huffed and pushed Gaston back a bit like a cat who didn't want to be pet, and the older man laughed.
Stars, 16
"Mama?" he asked hesitantly one evening.
"Hm?" she hummed, putting away the dishes from supper.
He fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "It's a clear night out tonight... a few days ago.. I mean I- Pere Robert had a book.. about the stars... and I was wondering if... we can.. I mean, if you want.. we can look at the stars to-together...?"
She set down her cloth and gave him a kind smile. "Of course, my love. We can surely do that. How about later on after Amelia and Cedric have gone to bed?"
He nodded - he had extra time to figure out how he was going to tell his mama what was really on his mind.
But it seemed in no time at all, they were lying on a blanket outside, looking up at the sky. And now, he was growing nervous and anxious.
Belle knew her son well. She knew he was particularly shy about discussing things out in the open and she wondered if he had wanted a private audience with her to tell her what was on his mind. She never wanted to pressure him but she sensed he seemed to be stuck at the moment. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"
He shifted but kept his eyes on the stars. He had to look somewhere else to get his courage. "Mama... I want to leave for Paris."
She glanced at him and she could see he was very nervous. She nodded even though he wasn't looking at her. "And why, may I ask?"
"I want to study at the university," he said. Then he sat up. "But I'm still thinking about it," he added quickly. "I wouldn't leave until I'm older."
She sat up with him and ran her hand through his hair. She tried to get him to look at her but the young man wouldn't budge. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him to her, kissing the crown of his head. "My boy, I'm so proud of you," she whispered honestly.
He glanced at her. "You're not mad?"
"Mad? Why on earth would I be mad?" she smiled. "You wish to pursue your dream. I am not going to stop you. That's all I ever wanted for you all. To go off into the world. Become your own people, follow your own dreams, despite your Papa's antics," she mused.
He smiled and the weight that had been sitting on his chest for weeks lifted from his chest. "Thanks, Mama."
"I love you, my Gilby."
"Oh god, Gilby," he groaned at the word.
"It's your fault, you know," she reminded him. "You couldn't say your name."
He gestured wildly, "Well, yeah, I was young."
"And it stuck," she beamed.
He grumbled but smiled.
Madeleine, 18
He stood in the townsquare, distracted by a rickety tile on someone's roof. He feared if a storm were to pass through, the tile could do some serious damage to the schoolhouse in its path. A thud against his shoulder and something landing on his foot stirred him out of his reverie.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she gasped though she looked like the action caught her by surprise too. She bit her lip worriedly - she had been immersed in her book again. And now she had bumped into someone- a young man, a handsome young man at that- but a man nonetheless. She feared what he could do for literate women were still frowned upon.
But he had seen her many times in town, especially when Papa needed new horseshoes as she was the blacksmith's daughter. He smiled kindly and bent to pick up her book. "No harm done, m'lady," he said. M'lady... where did that come from? "All is well." He handed her the book, "Here."
She nodded, "Thanks."
He glanced at the spine as she took it from him. "Ah, Lady of Shalott."
She paused for a long moment, stunned that this young man knew such a story. It took her another moment to recover. "Yes, it's my favorite." She suddenly felt nervous. "Y-you've read it?" She clutched her book against her chest and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Yes, it's a very good poem." Then he looked unsure himself. He hadn't thought the conversation this far through. He nodded his head down the road, motioning that they take a stroll. He stuffed his hands in his pocket as they walked down the hill.
"My, I've never met a boy who could read," she said shyly.
He returned the shy smile. His grey eyes light and young.
"What else have you read?"
"Everything."
"Oh then you must tell me," she beamed.
I know Lady of Shalott was written in 1842 but I just had to put it in :) and Treasure Island wasn't around in this time period either, I was just in search of a book title for children
Hope you all liked this chapter! As for me, I think I'll go ahead and write these same little snippets for everyone else! (in due time, of course)
And I'm very surprised at over 3.000 words :O
See you next time! ;)
