Title: inverted reflection [2/?]
Summary: A hunter's suspicious, a cursed boy adjusts, and a desperate mother hatches a scheme. (Selective Role Reversal AU of the Animated Disney Film)
Notes: Thanks for all the comments, hope you like this chapter. Rose Emeraldfay: Yes, Princess Belle just goes blind. (But with her situation, it's really not the best thing—I think she'd rather be a monster that could still read than blinded.) Also, you really do have a point about the enchanted objects—they need more fic! It'll be a while before they show up again, but I'd like them to still have a big part in this AU.
Ch. 2
The woman besieged by wolves-introduced as Madam Evelyn de Keane-was a stunning specimen to the widowed Jean de Havoc, despite her overall distress.
He chalked it up to his wife's death softening him, making him odd-he found even her brief outbursts and stubbornness amusing, rather than something to quell and shake his head over.
Oh, she was appropriately grateful, but had her guard up-very protective of the odd creature dressed queerly in clothes and with horns who had fought so fiercely to protect her from the wolves.
Far ahead of his men, Jean had stumbled upon them first-and hadn't immediately interfered. He was shocked, certainly-yet part of that wasn't just her creature's strange appearance, but his viciousness. Jean was interested to see how it fended off the wolves.
It did so admirably, but it soon reached the point that both the beast and its mistress and that neighing horse would die without intervention, and so he cocked his rifle and fired.
The wolves fell, and a second later so did the twisted canine as it fell unconscious, but not before Jean caught a flash of blue out of eyes that looked eerily human.
He was seized with a grudging respect when the unnamed Evelyn then had extricated herself from the wreckage of her cart and half-limped, half-ran to her creature, heedless of any injury she bore, the blood running down her leg.
Instinctively, Jean was reminded of Josette with their son Serge, the way she threw her cloak over the beast, tried to carry him-as he dismounted his horse and treaded through the snow toward them, he mulled over that comparison. It was all surreal, but right before his eyes-and what he saw didn't fit a mistress and her dog.
Still, it was what he told his men, his grandson Gaston and the other boys that had come on the hunting trip. That it was simply a widow travelling alone, with her hound as her only protection.
Jean de Havoc was of the opinion that a person was intelligent-people, on the other hand, could act too quickly before learning all the facts and using them to their advantage, wasting what could possibly be a golden opportunity.
Evelyn and he had talked, in brief intervals, but before she finally left it was a veritable full-blown conversation-and their most revealing, if toxic.
"Madame, why would you dress your 'pup' in such clothes, as if he were human?" He'd finally asked, bluntly.
He gave her credit for sniffing and turning up her nose, lying as best she could through her teeth, "It's the latest fashion where I come from. I'm not surprised it hasn't stretched to such small provincial villages in this part of France."
Laughing, Jean said, "You speak as if you were a noble, Madame." His eyes lingered on the state of her clothes-even if she hadn't been through a storm, he could still tell how meager they were, even less than most back in his village, Molyneaux. "I'm afraid lies do not become you."
"You're the one who's making presumptions, Monsieur," she said, finally turning her back on him.
In a low voice, Jean finally said, "What boy spoke with you in the tent, Madame? Surely not Gaston, or the other lads-even if they're not mine, I know their voices, and I did not recognize the one that snapped at you the other day."
"I'm afraid Monsieur is mistaken in his old age," Evelyn said curtly, yet there was the barest hint of a tremble in her voice.
She couldn't make her departure quick enough with her hastily prepared cart and horse and 'dog' after that-but if Jean were a right judge of people and of this woman, she would be back, with her beast in tow.
Jean just had to wait.
###
The days, the weeks, past by in a blur for the child Beast after they had left the hunters.
His mother and he were at a loss of what exactly happened, and even worse, how to reverse it. They'd concluded that it had to be-as unlikely as it would've seemed before-the work of some enchantment. They just couldn't come up with any other explanation. But again, magic had been a make-believe fairy tale-something Alphonse's parents would read to him. They had no idea where to go to, whom to turn to, for any solutions to their problem.
And when one inn had finally heard Alphonse speak, gotten one good look at him, they were cruelly reminded that any chances of finding someone with any useful information was unlikely.
The Beast was rapidly trying to forget the details already. Especially since it'd been his fault.
He thought he'd never be in the mood to play again, but he'd longingly looked out the window at children his age and some younger ones playing in the snow. Alphonse had enough presence of mind (and a good dose of fear and self-loathing) to convince himself that he could go play by himself outside in the snow when the other children left, and when his mother was out again looking for another job. (They'd been travelling in the first place for that-in the wake of father's death, Maman had been struggling to make ends meet, even with Alphonse doing his best to help. The fire that devastated their home was the last straw. She'd finally decided they had to find a new home.)
And so Alphonse had stepped out, slipping a hooded cloak over himself and trying to make sure everything was covered. He'd begun making a snowman in earnest, when a very small girl walked over and watched his growing sculpture with awe.
She'd been looking so earnest, with a thumb in her mouth, Alphonse had asked if she'd like to help. And when she eagerly nodded, he showed her how to shape the snow. His paws had shown a little-but the toddler hadn't been afraid, and he was a little encouraged. Felt normal, like nothing horrible had happened.
The girl smiled up at him, totally unafraid, and Alphonse felt galvanized. He gingerly lifted her up with part of the snowman's head in her arms, and held her high enough so that she could place it on top of the body.
As he did so, the hood over his face slipped off.
Above him, a scream sounded and he dropped the girl in alarm. The toddler immediately cried, shrieking, and the child Beast was immediately swamped with guilt. He only shot the adult woman who'd screamed from her window in the inn one look before he leaned down toward the girl. He looked her over for any scratches and bruises, trying to sooth her, saying he was sorry over and over again.
Alphonse thought she seemed okay, and she was down to just sniffles-then something strong and hard kicked him in the side, and he tumbled into the snowman, the wind knocked out of him.
As he gasped in the snow, he heard the toddler cry again, and through an eye cracked open, found her swept up into the arms of her mother, who loudly tried to comfort her over her shrieks.
His eyes screwed shut as he felt a boot kick into his side, and then his stomach again and again. Alphonse finally bit back, burying his teeth in the man's foot (it was either that or vomit all over the snow).
But then something else slammed across his head, and it was then he realized he was surrounded, like-
anything, anything, tear out that thing's throat, and then the other and the other and the other all over the place didn't matter, he'd do anything, don't hurt her, Maman
-like with the wolves before, but he was completely caught off guard this time.
And the wolves didn't have any ropes to toss around his neck and pull tight and make him gag and oh god, he's really going to throw up. Except another rope wrapped around his mouth, snapping his snout shut, and the men dragged him away and into a shed, locking it shut and leaving him alone in the dark.
As he tried to fight off unconsciousness, Alphonse heard them mutter and whisper.
"Did you get a good look at that thing?"
"What do you think, it bit my goddamned foot, and my daughter-"
"Is she all right?"
"Katherine says she's all right, but..."
"Lucky, lucky girl."
"What the hell was it?"
"A wolf?"
"Looked like a bear-small one, like a cub."
"Neither of those have damned horns!"
"Or talk, Lucille said she heard it talk-"
"That's impossible-"
"Goddamned horns, what beast has horns like that in these parts?"
The child Beast finally slumped down, and blacked out.
###
When he'd come to, Alphonse found to his intense relief that he was on Phillipe behind Maman on her saddle, their wagon trailing behind.
Maman had tended to his wounds when they made camp on the edge of the forest far from any settlement. She made him eat, and sang a lullaby he hadn't heard from her in ages. Then she settled him into bed, but she never asked how he ended up beaten and locked in the shed, and he never said a word about it, nor did he ask her exactly how she got him out.
But that night, Alphonse could not get to sleep. Just laid awake. He could not imagine any way to return to normal. He could not imagine anyone who'd want to help. Someone who wouldn't look upon him with fear and loathing and strike out with a harsh hand.
His mother looked down at him-with concern, and love. And something broken (something he knew, deep down, that he broke).
"You need your rest."
He just stared blankly up at her.
Lowering herself down, she held him gently, carefully. Ran a hand down his furred back. She lowly hummed that old lullaby, and slowly, Alphonse's eyes dropped shut.
###
They stayed on the forest's edge while he recuperated. The child Beast was thankful that at least didn't take long. He seemed to heal faster now, and that was something.
Alphonse was even well enough to get food by himself, and for mother too. He first hunted down some rabbits, which Maman proudly cooked over the fire.
That was something else, he'd never really hunted before-except for traps he'd set for foxes that tried to eat their chickens and such. Father hunted when he was home, and he'd take Alphonse with him sometimes, so that the boy could observe, and learn-he'd promised that soon, soon, he'd let his son try to take something down...
But now hunting seemed kinda easy in this strange new body, regardless of what he learned. It's not like he ever really focused hard to recall father's lessons-it seemed like a very overwhelming, very eerie instinct that compelled him. After all, it seemed very natural now to press his nose against the dirt and exhale and inhale and shift through the scents, follow them...
Encouraged, he tracked further, and eventually brought down a deer.
"No more, sweetheart-we can save some," said his mother, and Alphonse paused over the rest of the deer meat.
"I got it," he snapped, pouting.
Maman glared, but Alphonse didn't feel like backing down. But then she asked, slightly worried, "Are you still hungry?"
"Obviously," the child Beast snapped.
Maman didn't shoot him another glare over his insolence. Instead, her eyes grew more worried, and she glanced at the deer meat, then back to him. "Do you need to eat more? More than usual? Have you been feeling hungrier?"
"I-" and Alphonse paused, blinking. He wasn't sure. Had he been eating more? Did he need more food after being changed into a monster?
"I-I dunno."
Maman was quiet for a time, considering. Finally she said, "We're leaving tomorrow. For now, I think we should save the rest of the food for later. But let me know when you get hungry, and then you can have more."
The child Beast agreed, now feeling vaguely mortified, remembering how he'd tried to avoid eating before and Maman wouldn't let him, and now he was taking more than was necessary and was being foolish and unmindful of travel rations.
He felt worse when his mother later said, "It's all right, you know-you may need more food-"
"'Cause I'm a beast now?" Alphonse felt embarrassed at how petulant and sullen his voice sounded.
Maman snapped, "No, because you're a growing boy."
They didn't talk the rest of the night.
###
The child Beast woke up to the sound of someone heaving loudly in the morning.
"Maman?"
Groggily, he stumbled out of his makeshift pallet on all fours. His ears pricked up, triangle-like, all of him growing more alert when he found his mother kneeling in the grass, a mess of bile beside her, and she wiping her mouth clean on her sleeve.
Evelyn sighed heavily.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up like that."
Shaking his head, Alphonse asked, trying not to sound too scared, "Are you okay?" (He remembered his friend Odette back home, how her mother got sick and died years ago.)
Giving a smile that didn't reach her eyes, Evelyn gently reached out and ruffled the fur between her son's ears (even now, she still did such gestures with him). "I'm fine dear, just a little under the weather. Nothing to worry about."
But the next time they made camp, there was a village in sight, and after telling Alphonse to stay with Phillipe while she went to look for a new map, Evelyn found a midwife to talk to.
After the other woman said her piece, Evelyn grimly nodded, saying in a dazed voice, "Yes, it's not unlike the first time, with my son."
"He'll be an older brother then," said the midwife, compelled to comfort this stranger and make her countenance less brooding.
"Yes, he will be," Evelyn said distractedly as she left, but not before giving the midwife her quiet thanks.
###
"We need to find you a trade," Evelyn told her son with utter conviction, and he shot her a disbelieving scowl.
"Who would take me on? Who'd want something like me as an apprentice-"
"Don't call yourself a 'thing'-you've too much mouth for that," snapped his mother. She continued, "And a hunter like Jean de Havoc would be interested."
Alphonse stared, then finally thought he comprehended what she was getting at. Anger washed over him. "I'm not pretending to be a dog again!"
Evelyn made Phillipe stop, and she looked at Alphonse blankly, her child looking back at her with fierce, blue eyes.
Firmly, Evelyn said, "I know you're not. And Monsieur Havoc will know that too."
His mother sounded so confident Alphonse deflated and slumped down, eyeing the road blankly as Phillipe continued his way.
Softly, Evelyn said as they continued on their way, "We don't know what happened-I just know you saved my life; it isn't fair-but the world is cruel; it doesn't seem reversible-so we have to adapt." Sighing, she murmured, "You'll have to adapt."
The child Beast turned away, looking at the other side of the road. He didn't want to hear this, not now-but he couldn't help but listen.
It helped, though, when he started thinking it was like what his father did before, serving as a soldier. He had done his duty-and Alphonse knew he had one to his mother, but maybe this could be another.
Notes: Confession time-blind Princess Belle probably won't be showing up for a while. This is like peasant!Beast's extended exposition song-except not in song and it's not just his POV but others' POV on him...which I guess is still similar to Belle's intro/exposition song after all. I'm just trying to develop his situation before Princess Belle does return to flip the situation on its head, but when she's back, she's there to stay since we get into the core of the fic with our dynamic duo. (And I'm just really enjoying developing his circumstances with other details like characterization and such.)