"Are you charging me this much for just one apple?"
"Blame the prices, not the seller, monsieur."
"Really? I've seen my fair share of merchants in my life to know that the former often depends more on the later, and not in the economy."
The farmer laughed. The nervous chickens, locked in their cages and waiting to be sold, cackled with the same heartiness of their owner.
LeFou couldn't tell if the farmer did so out of amusement, or if it was a nervous reaction of his trickery being revealed in a trivial comment.
Either way, LeFou knew he had no further intention of lowering the price.
Just when he was about to look for a more affordable seller, an arm surrounded Lefou's shoulders. Before he knew it, Stanley was standing next to him. He rested some of his weight against him, and laughed as if he had heard the funniest jest in France.
The farmer' s laughter slowly died down at the sight of him.
"What? No more laughs? And here I thought we were having fun." Stanley doffed his hat, and then slightly squeezed LeFou's arm. "Though I noticed you didn't find it funny from the start, dear Lef. Why was that, I wonder?"
"It was nothing." Insisted LeFou, sensing the farmer's caution and Stanley's readiness to quarrel. "We were just having a conversation about how to make honest business."
"Sounds like an enchanting story." Stanley let go of LeFou and, still smiling, slammed his hands on the table where the farmer displayed his products. All his merchandise trembled, with a couple of eggs falling and cracking on the floor. "One with a good moral that you surely won't forget, will you, my good monsieur? Because I'm sure you know what happens to the sellers that try to play their costumers for fools around here. If you don't, I'll be more than pleased to show you."
LeFou thought of intervening, but soon he and Stanley were walking away from the farmer, each with a free apple on their hands.
"We should pay for these." LeFou said as he put it away inside the pocket of his jacket.
"And refuse that good farmer's generosity? No, that would be rude." Stanley shrugged, putting the reward inside his satchel. "Did you see his face? It seems he not only sells chickens; he is one himself."
"You enjoyed that, didn't you?"
"I was just trying to teach him a lesson. That farmer is a nice man, but his selling policies have always been dubious at best. I made sure justice was served." Stanley stopped walking and raised his arms in a pose. Some villagers that passed nearby glared at him in confusion. "And free food is always welcome."
"That's a way to see the world, I guess." It was the most LeFou was willing to concede. "Just try not to go around playing hero too much."
"Stanley, haberdasher of profession, hero on his spare time." He smiled at the thought, but it vanished as just as quickly as it had appeared. "Why am I talking all this nonsense? A plague upon Dick and Tom for rubbing their quirks on me!"
"Are you sure it wasn't the other way around?" Teased LeFou, but his words passed unnoticed to Stanley. He was too busy searching for something in his satchel.
He only stopped cursing when he found it.
It was a notebook.
"This why I came looking for you in the first place." He skimmed through the pages. "And because I know that your mornings are not complete without the sight of my face."
He winked at LeFou, who accepted the comment with a grin despite its corniness.
Then, without a warning, Stanley pushed the notebook so close to LeFou's face that his eyelids could caress the paper
"Read it." Stanley urged him.
"Oh, I would. Except for the fact that I can't read." LeFou said, pulling the notebook away from him.
Stanley gave him a small apologetic smile.
"Oh, right." He cleared his throat. "Last night, after we parted, I wrote something here, but I can't make sense out of it. I was hoping you knew what it meant. It says: Lefy looked good tonight. Really good. That moustache suits him well. Maybe I should grow a beard to match. He would like that…"
"For the love of God, Stan." LeFou complained, flattered bur flustered. "If you wanted to read your nocturnal musings to me, couldn't you have chosen a more private place than the village's market?"
"Wait, this isn't what I wanted to show you." Said Stan, his cheeks ablaze. "Let me search for it."
LeFou waited as Stanley skipped what he expected were only going to be a few pages. In the end, Stanley ended up skipping more than the half of the notebook.
"Seriously, Stanley?" LeFou didn't know whether to embrace him or slap him in the back of the head.
"What? Blame the inspiration, not the inspired." Said Stanley in his defense. "Here it is! I'll read it to you, and no, it will be nothing of the of that sort, I swear. It says: LeFou wants to remember, but he doesn't know what. It's strange, and I don't understand. How can I help? Can I help? If I can't, who could? I must find out. Also, tonight I remembered Walter. How could I ever have forgotten about him? Maybe Tom and Dick will know more."
"Walter." The name escaped Stanley's lips like a sigh. "I forgot about him again. He was my friend. He never came back, but…. who was he?"
His hands trembled, and his eyes got lost into the distance.
It was one thing to be the one suffering from the confusion resultant from unreliable memories, but it was something completely different for LeFou to see that same reaction on someone other than himself.
Especially on someone he cared about.
Worried, and desperate to communicate the fragments of memories assaulting his mind, LeFou grabbed Stanley by the arms and stared into his distant eyes.
They regained their focus, but they lacked expression.
"Stanley, last night, when I told you about…something…. you mentioned him. Walter." LeFou was making a great effort to remember. He felt as if a horse had kicked him in the nape when he managed to recall what had happened. "It is as you wrote. I did tell you about those memories I can't remember. I almost had forgotten about it."
"Me too. I thought I would remember, but…" Stanley put a hand on his forehead and closed his eyes, his jaw and fists firmly clenched. When he looked at LeFou, a gentler expression replaced his anger. "This is how it feels for you, isn't it? The memory stuff you told me about. It's this. What a pair we make; something tells me remembering anniversaries and birthdays is going to be a pain in the ass."
"Yes." LeFou laughed, trying to hide his regret from Stanley.
He never should have told him anything about it.
Now, he had plunged Stanley in whatever whirlwind of confusion he was trapped in.
When would he learn to keep his fears and worries to himself?
He was indeed a fool.
"I'm sorry, Stan. I didn't want to upset you. Let us pretend none of this happened, alright? I'll be fine. You needn't worry about me."
"I do. How can I not, when I see how much it disturbs you?"
"I'll find a way to get over it."
"And I'll help you, as I said I would." Stanley insisted. "And if I can't, then I will find someone else who can. I may have written something about it!"
"Stan." Said LeFou, and felt a twinge of anger when his words fell on deaf ears again. "Leave it, it's nothing. Last night I was tired, and a little drunk too. Let's forget about it."
"Here!" Stanley pointed at the last paragraph on the notebook. There were just two words. "Ask Agathe."
LeFou felt how every hair on the back of his head stood up at the sound of that name.
"You mean the Enchantress."
"What a lofty title." Stanley said, rolling his eyes. "Different names, same person."
"If she's even a person at all." Without noticing, LeFou took a step back. "No, Stanley; it's out of the question. You saw what she did to the prince, to all the village. What if we offend her somehow? What if she casts a new spell upon us all again? What would we do then? No, there's much at risk."
"It may be a bit of a gamble." Stanley admitted. His voice was neither soothing nor imposing, but something in between. "But what other choice do we have, LeFou? If there's someone who could help you with your strange problem, is someone as strange as Agathe, or however you want to call her. It'll work, I know it."
"But-" The reasoning, though simple, was too practical for LeFou to contradict.
Still, he was far from being convinced, and once again he insisted in forgetting about it all, arguing that even if they set out to seek for her help, they didn't know where to find her.
Stanley must have noticed LeFou's intentions of ending the conversation, and when he spoke again, he did so with more determination than before.
"We can look for her. She lives somewhere in the forest, doesn't she? It could take us some time, but the forest isn't infinite. We are bound to find her eventually." He said as if it was the obvious. "In fact, doesn't Maurice knows the exact place? He comes here today with Belle and the prince. We could ask him to take us there."
"And what makes you think I have the right of asking that man for a favor? If the Enchantress hadn't rescued him…" The shame of that memory fed his urge to change the subject.
"But she did, and Maurice forgave you. Maybe it's time you did the same."
"That's not the point." LeFou raised his voice, filled with annoyance. "I'm not asking Maurice."
"LeFou."
"Stan."
"Don't be like that. We should at least give it a try."
"Enough, Stanley!"
Stanley's temper showed in the pulsating veins of his temples.
"Then I will ask him." He said.
"Perfect, then you shall venture into the forest all by yourself."
"So be it. I move faster when I'm on my own, anyway."
"Then be my guest. I won't stand in the way of your meddling."
Neither LeFou nor Stanley had noticed the gossip eyes fixed on them until Père Robert intervened and ended their argument.
The curious villagers had watched the scene as if it was a play on the street.
Many of them had already taken sides.
"I'm with you, Stan. I have no idea what you two are talking about, but I'm with you." Exclaimed Dick, earning the approval of some of the villagers.
"LeFou did seem like the voice of reason in this one." Said Tom. Numerous people echoed their agreement. "Then again, isn't he always?"
Père Robert glared at them. It was all it took for the gossip group to disperse like smoke. LeFou watched them return to their daily activities as if nothing had happened.
He wished he could do the same.
Stanley folded his arms and looked away.
LeFou answered in the same manner.
"If you two have the time to make a scene in front of everyone, then you have time to help others." Said Père Robert, not impressed with the scarce response he obtained from the angry men. "Come with me."
Avoiding exchanging glances with each other, LeFou and Stanley followed him in gelid silence. After what it felt like hours, they reach the chapel where the Père kept his books.
He told them to wait for him outside until he returned.
LeFou nodded.
Stanley grunted and shrugged.
LeFou killed the time by inspecting the changes that had occurred on the chapel. It had grown twice its original size thanks to Belle's constant donations, both in money and in texts.
She and prince Adam would arrive soon, surely with big packages of books that children and adults alike could enjoy.
It would be nice to see them again, especially Belle.
He was about to share that thought with Stanley, but the freshness of their fight held his tongue.
Stanley gave no signs of caring.
Père Robert returned, carrying a pile of books so large that it went higher than his head. He gave half of them to Stanley, and the rest to LeFou.
"Take them outside the village, to the usual spot where Belle and the prince Adam read to the children. Try not to drop them." He looked at the tower clock. "The little ones should already be there. Keep them company in the meantime. Read them a short story, perhaps."
"But I can't- "
"I know, LeFou." Said the Père. "Let Stanley read instead, and you will listen together with the children. After all, listening is the first step to learn how to read and write."
Stanley cursed under his breath.
"What was that, Stanley?"
"Nothing, nothing." He grunted, and went on his way. "Let's get this over with."
LeFou gave one last look to Père Robert before going after Stanley. He could have catch up to him, but he decided to keep his distance.
Meanwhile, Stanley didn't look over his shoulder to see if LeFou was following. He stomped his feet on the ground as if he wanted to break it apart.
His cold indifference stung, but LeFou was hardly in a more forgiving mood. His anger, though subtler, was no less incensed.
Still, underneath it, he had the latent fear that the argument had created a breach too big between them.
It amazed LeFou how easily a stupid fight could destroy a bond. Though if the bond was so easily broken, then maybe it never had been strong in the first place.
He felt a lump on his throat.
Was Stanley feeling the same way, or did he not care at all?
LeFou had no way of knowing, nor he had the wish to ask him.
In a deeper silence than before, the two of them left the village behind and reached a group children gathered around a flowery spot.
They greeted them with the natural cheerfulness of their age. Stanley answered with a gruffness the children considered amusing, while LeFou faked a smile.
The last he wanted was to spoil the children's leisure time with his own problems.
That was what a selfish man would do, and he was not a selfish man.
If nothing else, he had to remember that.
It was a good thing Père Robert wasn't there to see his beloved books so uncaringly dispersed on the ground like fallen leaves.
Some of the children had shown interest in them at first, but they became irrelevant the moment Stanley started telling a story. It came not from a book, but from his mind.
LeFou thought of calling him out, an idea partly fueled by the irritation he felt towards him, but he decided to go with the flow when he noticed all the children were fascinated by the story.
It was one LeFou knew well.
How couldn't he when he had been part of it?
Though in Stanley's lips, it sounded so different that it hardly resembled what had really happened. LeFou wasn't impressed with the liberties Stanley took; he would have been surprised if he hadn't done something of the sort.
"And when I defeated the crazed piano and it begged for my forgiveness, I laughed at it, and knocked it out with one single punch to his keyboards. The other enchanted objects ran away, too scared to fight against Stanley, slayer of antiquities."
"Amazing!" Said the children in unison. They laughed and look up to Stanley as if he was a famous warrior.
"You are so brave, Uncle Stanley." Said a girl. Her father's features were impressed on her face. She was sitting next to LeFou. He imagined that her mellow disposition was a trait she had developed and not inherited, given the rowdy tempers of Dick and his wife.
Stanley didn't object to the compliments, though LeFou's accusative eyes weighed him down. He glared at him before returning his attention to his young audience.
LeFou wasn't going to get him get away with it so easily.
"What a great retelling, Stanley. No doubt the prince and the others will love it as much as we did." He said with pretended admiration. "Surely Maestro Cadenza will be flattered by your characterization of him. What do you say, children? Should we ask the Maestro for his own version of Stanley's tale?"
"Yes!" All the children agreed, eager for more stories from the now famous battle in the enchanted castle.
Stanley looked at LeFou with an expression he usually saved for Dick and Tom every time they got on his nerves.
To anyone else, it would have been menacing, but for LeFou it felt like a victory.
Though it brought him some satisfaction, his pettiness soon turned it dull and meaningless.
"How about you delight us with your version in the meantime, LeFou? After all, yours is far more entertaining than mine." Stanley said.
LeFou tried to refuse, but soon the children showered him with questions and pleads.
"Really? Tell us, Monsieur LeFou."
"Yes! You and Monsieur Stanley tell the story better than the other adults."
"Is it true that a talking wardrobe put a dress on my dad and on Uncle Stanley?" Dick's daughter asked as she pulled LeFou's sleeve. "It's a pretty dress. Dad says I can wear it once I grow up a bit more."
"Is Mr. Pott's wife still a tea pot?"
As he tried to keep the children questions from overwhelming him, LeFou saw a victory smile appear on Stanley's face.
"Is it true that prince Adam was a villain when he was a beast?" Asked a boy. "He must have been scary."
"Of course he was, stupid." Dick's daughter replied. "And Monsieur LeFou and Uncle Stanley were heroes. Haven't you been listening?"
"Language, girl." Scolded LeFou.
"Sorry." She said, almost against her will. "But it's true, isn't it? You were a hero! And so were my dad, Uncle Tom, Uncle Stanley, and everyone that went to the castle."
LeFou could only imagine what version Dick and his wife had told their child. Given the reaction of the rest, LeFou realized the rest of the parents had done the same.
He didn't fault them.
Had he been in their place, he wouldn't have wanted his kids to think of him as a part of a wrathful mob, mindlessly following the lead of…
A momentary clarity showed him the shadow of someone he had known. It left him in a state of numbness that was broken when the girl pulled his sleeve again.
The children, if they had notice his brief trance, were more interested in hearing his story. The most impatient frowned and scowled.
"I'm sorry." LeFou looked at his feet. "But mine is not the story of a hero. In many ways, I'm what you'd call a -"
He didn't say the word. He needn't to, and the children were more than capable to fill in the missing gap.
All of them looked at each other in confusion, with Dick's daughter being the most disconcerted.
"What is Monsieur LeFou saying? Why would he say that?"
"I don't understand."
"Does that mean that Beast-Prince Adam was the hero?" Asked the same boy as before. "In that case, are our parents the bad guys?"
"No, dad is not a villain!"
"But I thought they were heroes. They said they were…"
"Does that make us villains too?"
"I don't want to be one of the bad guys." Some of the youngest were teary-eyed and voice broken.
It didn't take long before a couple of them began to weep.
The older, more practical and cynical, were afraid that Prince Adam would punish their parents for their actions, which could be considered little less than treason.
"Wait, no. That's not what I meant." But LeFou's attempts had no success in easing the children's doubts. He tried to cheer them up by joking about it, but it was too late for humor to mend that chaos.
He scratched his head and breathed quickly, afraid that the situation would get out of and that that half of the villagers would end up resenting him for setting such doubts on the minds of their kids.
Out of all of the upset faces, it was Dick's daughter's which hurt him the most. Her eyes always gleamed with pride whenever she spoke of her father's deeds, but now, they were opaque with disappointment.
That would hurt her father more than any punch he had received in his life, and it would be LeFou's doing.
If only he hadn't spoken so freely…
"Enough!" Stanley's voice worked like a charm. He sounded like a stern teacher angry at his distracted students, but when he spoke again, his tone was mellower. "You have no reason to cry nor to be afraid, so stop it right now."
"But our parents are the bad guys of the story!"
"They are not."
"So were they the heroes?" Asked Dick's daughter with hope.
Stanley thought about the question for a moment before answering. The children looked at him expectantly, while LeFou kept his eyes down.
"Not every story has heroes and villains, especially those that really happened." Stanley said. "When we first heard about the Prince-turned-Beast, your parents and every other adult in the village were very afraid. They wanted to protect you from what they didn't understand, from a monster they thought could hurt you. In their fear to lose you, they reacted in a foolish, violent way. They may also have agreed to do things that normally they wouldn't have done. That's what fear does; it makes people act like fools, as villains some would say, even when they are not."
The children listened in silence.
"Was the prince scared too?" One of them dared to ask.
"I'm sure he was, just like the other members of the castle."
"Were you scared as well?"
Stanley chuckled under his breath. LeFou lifted his eyes, hoping to meet his, but it was Stanley's turn to look away.
"Yes. I still-"
The echo of the tower clock's bell suppressed the rest of his answer. Once it faded, LeFou expected Stanley to proceed.
Instead, he dismissed the children and allowed them some time to play while the Prince and the others arrived.
Though hesitant at first, they soon became immersed in their games. They would probably consider Stanley's words later, if they hadn't forgotten them by nightfall.
As the children played, LeFou rejoined Stanley.
They stood in silence, watching the forest.
"Where the hell are they?" Stanley said with his arms folded. "Those royals, always arrving late."
"I hope they come. I was looking forward to seeing Belle."
"If you're trying to make me jealous, that won't work." Stanley said seriously.
LeFou breathed a laugh so faint it could have passed for a cough.
Stanley allowed himself to relax.
Then, they finally looked at each other in the eye, this time without resentment.
"I'm sorry." Stanley took LeFou off guard. "I wasn't trying to impose myself. I just… I was sure I had found the answer for your problem. I thought it could work, but the more I think about it, the more I realize how stupid it is. Maybe I wanted it to work just so you wouldn't think of me as a moron, but I ended up acting like an idiot to you instead."
LeFou's heart softened.
"It wasn't a stupid idea, Stanley. I never wouldn't have come up with it."
"That just further proves that it is." Stanley grunted. "I spent all night thinking about how to help you, and the best I could come up with was asking Agathe. I bet these kids could come with a better solution than me in five minutes or less."
"Enough of this self-pity." LeFou put a hand on his shoulder. "It's not like you. You were trying to help me. I should have been grateful for that, instead I just shunned you..."
His sight became blurred.
"Hey, don't cry on me now." Stanley gently passed his thumb under LeFou's right eye. "There's no need to. It was just some stupid fight."
"I'm not crying." LeFou complained.
"Of course not. The wind got something into your eye." Stanley winked at him. "Let's forget about the whole Agathe thing, alright? All I ask, LeFou, is that you let me help you until we find a way to sort out whatever ails you."
LeFou felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
"You needn't ask." He said with a smile. "Besides, that idea about writing every we recall was brilliant. It could be our own log book! Minus the nocturnal musings."
"What? You're no fun." Stanley pouted.
They enjoyed some minutes of chattering, with the sound of the children playing in the background.
It was a moment of peace as LeFou hadn't felt for a long time, not since he and…
"They're here!" Shouted a girl as a horse emerged from the forest, trotting along the path together with its rider.
A guard.
The rest ended their games and gathered close to Stanley and LeFou, eager to receive whatever treats and gifts Prince Adam and Belle had brought them.
The two men waved at the guard , expecting others to follow right behind him.
No one else did.
It gave LeFou a bad felling, but it was Stanley who first noticed the bad shape of the animal and the man. Once it got closer, the pain the horse felt every time its hooves touches the ground was as evident as the blood stains on the guard's armor.
Out of a sudden, the horse collapsed as if an arrow had pierced its heart. It fell to one side, crushing half of its rider's body beneath its weight.
The children gasped, screamed and cried.
"Stanley, wait!" LeFou tried to catch him as he dashed towards the fallen man. He turned around to face the children, whose faces were tainted with the same fear LeFou had once seen on their parents. "Stay here. We'll be back soon, I promise."
Dick's daughter nodded at him, her face covered with tears but with a courage not many of her peers shared.
LeFou went to Stanley's side as quickly as he could. The guard's head rested on Stanley's hands. He had bled most of his blood long before he had found the way out of the forest.
The image brought back memories of the war. LeFou had wished never to see anything like that again.
Stanley swallowed and closed they guard's unexpressive eyes.
"He's gone." He announced, cloaking the tears trapped in his throat behind a respectful solemnity.
LeFou knelt beside him.
"Did he say anything about what happened?"
"They were attacked." Stanley could barely join he words without his voice breaking midsentence. "All he managed to say was the prince's name, and something about…"
A growl behind them froze their blood. Behind them, the children screamed.
By instinct, LeFou and Stanley stood up and stared into the beast's eyes.
The wolf was bigger than any LeFou had ever seen. Its muscles brimmed with restless energy ready to be unleashed on its prey.
Most disconcerting than the its unnatural size was the sword stuck on its stomach. It was mortal wound, but the wolf was still breathing.
That was what scared LeFou the most.
Very slowly, and with the wolf growling at his every movement, Stanley bowed down and picked a thick branch from the ground.
"Go with the children, LeFou. Take them back to village and close the gates." Stanley whispered as the wolf became more aggressive. Its razor-sharp fangs reflected the midday sunlight. "I'll hold it back.
"What?"
The wolfed howled and ran towards them.
It paws made the ground tremble.
Stanley pushed LeFou away.
"Go!" Stanley managed to use the branch to trap the wolf's bite.
It took every ounce of LeFou's will to turn his back on him and return to the children. He felt burning tears streaming down his face.
"Run to the village!" He screamed at them. "Hurry!"
Like a dog shepherding a group of sheep, LeFou stayed behind them, guarding them from the danger and making sure none of them was left behind.
His heart thumped in his chest.
Tears and sweat filled his eyes with salt.
One of the kids tripped and fell on the grass.
LeFou picked her up and carried her for the rest of the way.
Without knowing how or when, they reached the village's entrance safely. The children dispersed in search for their parents.
All of them were crying, regardless of their age.
The villagers surrounded them, fidgety about the unexpected scandal.
LeFou was the last one to arrive. The child in his arms hugged him tightly. Her nails were dug deep on his skin.
She only eased her grip when her parents went to collect her.
"There she is!" Dick exclaimed as he and his wife picked up their daughter. After making sure she was safe, Dick looked at LeFou. "What the hell happened!?"
Such a question meant nothing to LeFou.
Without giving any sort of explanation to the baffled folk, he turned on his heels and went back on his steps.
Dick screamed his name numerous times, but not once did LeFou answer.
His legs burned and trembled, but he forced them to keep going despite the growing pain. His body felt everything, but LeFou's mind had room for one thing only.
"Stanley!" He screamed, with the distant figures of a man and a wolf becoming visible again.
The animal huffed as if it was chocking, with blood dripping from its muzzle.
Its ears were flattened and his fangs were bared.
Stanley was only a few steps away from the angry beast. When LeFou saw the crimson mark spreading on the sleeve of Stanley's shirt like ink on paper, he felt his own blood rushing back to his heart.
It wasn't until he tried to reach for a sheathed dagger on his belt that he realized he was unarmed. With his mind clouded by fear and his reflexes enhanced with adrenaline, he picked a fallen branch from the ground and wielded it like a sword.
It was a brittle stick, but it was better than facing the wolf bare handed.
When LeFou finally reached them, Stanley had fallen to his knees. His face was distorted with pain. He held his wounded arm close to his chest.
Breathing seemed to take most of his strength.
The wolf stood in front of him, his hunting finally coming to an end. It gave a distraught howl that sounded like the cry of a maniac.
It lowered his head and stretched its hinder paws.
One leap foward, and everything would be over.
"No!" LeFou's hand went inside his jacket's pocket and remerged with an apple he had forgotten.
He threw at the wolf without aiming.
It flew across the air like a lost arrow, but it did manage to hit the animal on the nose.
The wolf forgot about its fallen prey and turned his head towards LeFou.
Two emotions, equal in intensity, overcame LeFou as the wolf dashed towards him with its jaws wide opened. The first one was relief because of Stanley's surival, and the second was the fear of his imminent death.
One last glimmer of courage gave him the chance of defending himself with the branch. It succeeded in stopping the wolf's bite from digging into his neck, but it didn't prevent LeFou from falling on his back.
The wolf's strength made every bone on his arms creak. The beast's rotten breath crashed against his face and fazed his senses.
LeFou fought back, but he knew that if his bones didn't give in, the branch would.
He knew that would be the end of him.
Not once he had thought that death would come for him in the shape of a wolf.
Just when he had resigned to his fate, a branch that didn't belong to him rested across the wolf's neck and pulled him off of him.
He saw the wolf's bare belly as it fell on the man who fought to hold him in check.
"Run!" Stanley said underneath the wolf that crushed him. His wounded arm bled like a leak.
LeFou got back on his feet, breathless.
Stanley had endangered himself again, and now, he had no chance to save him. LeFou also knew that, even if his muscles exhausted, he had no chance of running away.
He wouldn't have done so even if he'd had the chance.
The sentiment sounded noble at first, but it also meant that Stanley's sacrifice had been in vain.
They would both die there, devoured by a crazed wolf, and only their remains would be left to tell the story of their demise.
Pull the sword.
The sentenced echoed in LeFou's mind.
It was as if someone had whispered it in his ear.
What?
Pull the word from the belly of the beast. Now!
It was a command he dared not to disobey.
He approached the beast with bumbling steps.
Stanley shouted something at him.
LeFou said nothing.
With the little strength he had left, he grabbed the sword from the handle and pulled it from the wolf's flesh.
It turned apart muscle and skin on its way out, making the wolf cry in agony.
For LeFou, it felt like cutting warm butter with a knife.
The blade came out covered with the wolf's insides. A second after, a gush of blood emerged from the open wound like a geyser.
It hit LeFou right above his left eye.
At its touch, LeFou's mind exploded with a torrent of memories. In them, he finally saw the face of the silhouette that had haunted him for so long.
It was a man he knew.
A man he had loved.
Gaston.
Then everything faded. His world became an endless darkness.
As he dove deeper into it, the voice from before reached him.
So it's you. You are the one who can end this. Come to me, LeFou.
It soothed LeFou into a dreamless sleep.
Come to me.