A/N: Gaston gets what's coming to him and a little nod to Skin Deep.
Chapter Seven
The sound of water dripping came from the shadows while the sounds of chains rattling came closer and Gaston staggered toward the wood and iron door. His black hair was shaggy and fell nearly to the middle of his back and he had a full beard and moustache. He had straw in his hair and beard and his clothing were in tatters. His toes stuck out from the holes in his boots and the clothing hung loose on his thin frame. Maurice allowed him to go out into the courtyard, but only at night and he wore a metal collar connected to iron chains. The only light in the cell came from the barred windows high above him and he had nearly roasted in the summer or froze to death in the winter.
"Move away from the door," a voice growled as he looked at the small window in the door and he snorted, moving back. The metal scrapping of the lock came from behind the door as he watched the door slowly open and two guards pointed rifles at him. "Move back."
Snorting a laugh, Gaston moved into the shadows while two guards with torches walked in the cell and placed the torches in the iron holders. Maurice walked in the cell as Gaston glared at him and Maurice gave him a blank look.
"Is it time for my walk?" Gaston asked sarcastically then grunted as one of the guards pulled on the chain connected to the iron collar around Gaston's neck and he moved back a few feet.
"No," Maurice said with a small shake of his head. He felt the anger boiling inside of him while looking at Gaston and fought the urge to kill him.
"Then what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"
"Your father is dead," Maurice said in a cold tone and Gaston's eyes went wide.
"You're lying."
"No, he is dead."
"How did he die?"
"The ogres attacked his kingdom and he was beheaded."
"Why didn't you protect him?" Gaston demanded as he tried to move closer, but the guard pulled on the chains and Gaston choked, staggering backwards. "You owe him."
"I owe him nothing," Maurice growled, glaring at Gaston.
"You would if your whore of a daughter had…," Gaston said then gagged from the guard pulling on the chains and Maurice balled his hands into fists.
"Speak of my daughter in that matter again and I will…," Maurice said and Gaston snorted a laugh.
"You will what? I have spent the last ten years as your "guest". You barely feed me or give me water. I sleep on straw scattered on the floor. I have to pee or defecate in the corner. I nearly freeze to death or roast from the heat. I'm chained to the wall and am only allowed out at night. What more can you do to me?"
"I could have you tortured until you beg for death," Maurice growled after he walked closer and locked eyes with him. Gaston saw the seriousness in his eyes and he sighed and lowered his head.
"When did he die?" Gaston asked softly then looked up.
"A year ago," Maurice said as Gaston's eyes widened and he growled. With a roar, Gaston tried to grab Maurice, but the guard pulled on the chains hard enough to pull Gaston off his feet and he landed hard onto the ground. He watched Maurice leave the cell when the guards moved closer and the door slammed shut.
Maurice's den
Maurice stood by the large stone fireplace while he watched the fire when he felt like he was being watched and turned, seeing the healer standing behind him.
"Greetings," the healer said with a small bow.
"Where have you been?" Maurice asked and the healer smiled.
"I go where I am needed. You know that."
"Well, I am glad that you have returned," Maurice said as he walked to a small wooden table near the fireplace and picked up the crystal bottle with amber liquid inside. "Would you like a whiskey?"
"That would be nice," the healer said and Maurice opened the crystal bottle. He poured some of the amber liquid into the glasses then placed the crystal stopper back in the bottle and placed the crystal bottle on the table. Picking up the glasses, he walked to the healer when he handed the healer one of the glasses and sipped on the whiskey. "Is your "guest" still living?"
"Yes," Maurice said, sipping on the whiskey. "I told him about Andre,"
"He must have taken that well," the healer said, sipping on the whiskey.
"He tried to attack me. Luckily, the guards stopped him."
"I would be careful if I were you," the healer said, pointing a bony finger at him.
"What can he do? He's locked in a cell," Maurice said then finished the whiskey and walked to the door. Turning, he saw the healer was gone as he sighed and left the room.
The Dark Castle
The soft squeak of the spinning wheel filled the room while Belle stood on the highest step of the ladder and tried to move the curtains back. Three months had passed since she had come to live with the Dark One and he had made her a blue dress with short, white puffy sleeves and white lace around the hem and a white collar. She was wearing white hose and black slippers and a white linen apron was tied around her waist.
She was surprised with how well he treated her and would catch him smiling at her. He rarely raised his voice in anger or abused her or belittled her and he was pleased when she would sit in the den with him at night. She learned how he liked his meals and they would spend mealtimes talking over the books she read or his travels. He did call out during the night, but didn't mind or notice her sitting with him until he calmed down and would give her a small grin in the morning when she went to wake him.
Belle fought with the curtains then sighed and watched him moving the wheel with his left hand while a long strand of straw twirled between the fingers of his right hand. He was wearing brown leather boots laced up the front and ended at his knees, brown leather trousers, a copper silk shirt opened at the top and a brown leather vest.
"Why do you spin so much? You have enough gold to last a life time," she said and he giggled, turning to look back at her.
"I like watching the wheel. It helps me forget," he said, looking back at the spinning wheel. He moved the spinning wheel with his left hand as he went back to his spinning and she wondered if she asked him what he was trying to forget.
"What are you trying to forget?" she asked as he blinked his eyes then smiled.
"I guess it worked," he said then giggled, got up and walked to the ladder, looking up at her. "What are you doing?"
"I'm trying to get the curtains open. It's a beautiful day out and I thought we could use some sunlight in here. The trouble is these curtains won't move. What did you do…nail them shut?" she asked and pulled on the curtains.
"Yeah," he said with a nod of his head she sighed, rolling her eyes. She pulled harder when the curtains came loose and she lost her footing, falling off the ladder. She waved her arms in the air then made a soft grunt when she saw she was now in the Dark One's arms and he looked from her to the ladder then up at the curtains to her and she saw the fear in his eyes. She was surprised that he could move so fast, but liked the stunned look on his face. She reached over to touch his cheek when he placed her on her feet then placed his hands on her shoulders. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, Sir," she said then was surprised when he held her and she felt him shaking. Placing her hand against his chest, she felt his heart thudding hard and fast against her palm and he made a shaky breath then looked at the ladder.
"You are never to use a ladder ever again!" he scolded after moving back and pointed a finger at her. There was more fear then anger in his eyes and she folded her arms over her chest while giving him an angry look.
"How am I supposed to clear things high up?" she demanded. Normally he liked her being stubborn or rude, but the pounding in his chest made him breath hard and fast through his nose. He flicked his wrist up when a feather duster appeared in his hand and he held the feather duster out to her.
"This is enchanted. All you have to do is tell it where to dust and it will do it," he said then waved his hand and a bucket with a sponge and cloth appeared by her feet. "You will also tell these to clean the windows and the chandeliers."
"How will I get things down?"
"You just say what you need and they will come down to you," he said and gently tapped the tip of his finger against the tip of her nose. "Now, do we have a deal? You will never use ladders ever again?"
"Deal done," she said and he nodded his head, snapped his fingers, which make the curtains open to let in the sunlight, and walked away. After watching him leave the room, Belle looked at the feather duster then shrugged and looked at the chandeliers. "Dust the chandeliers."
Her eyes went wide as the feather duster rose into the air while twirling in a circle then quickly went from one chandelier to the other and dusted the crystals. The crystals made a soft tinkling sound as she watched and the feather duster floated to the window, pushed the window open, floated outside and shook the dust out. The feather duster then closed the window when the feather duster floated to Belle as she took hold of the handle and a small smile moved across her face.
Avonlea
Maurice walked into the room when he walked to the high back chair near the large stone fireplace and sat down. He looked at the scrolled handwriting on the envelope when he opened the envelope and removed the piece of paper. In the three months since Belle went to live with the Dark One, he had received a letter from her once a week and he was surprised that a monster such as the Dark One would allow such things. Unfolding the paper, he sat back in the chair and looked at the scrolled handwriting.
Dearest Father,
I hope all is well with you. I am fine and finally convinced him to allow me to open the curtains in the dining hall. I don't understand why he wants to stay in the dark. At first I thought his eyes were light sensitive, but he does go out during the day. Then I thought it was the view that bothered him. I can't see how. The mountains look amazing and you can see the rose gardens spreading out across the courtyard. I guess he just wants to shut the world out, but, now that I'm here, he doesn't want to anymore.
I did give him a bit of a scare while I was trying to open the curtains. I had pulled too hard and the curtain came loose, making me lose my footing. Ah, no, I am fine. He caught me after I fell off the ladder. I never knew he could move so fast. He looked so frightened. When he let me down, he hugged me and his entire body was trembling. I even saw tears in his eyes. He gave me enchanted objects to clean with and has made things come to me if I can't reach them.
Father, I know I have mentioned this before, but the longer I stay, the more I am convinced it's really him. I just need to find out what happened. Once I do, I will try to find a way to help him find release from whatever it is which turned him into this…no, I can't call him a beast or monster. He's him and he never was either one. He still calls out for me in his sleep during the night and relaxes when I sit with him and stroke the top of his head.
Give my regards to Chip and the others.
All my love,
Belle
He re-read some parts of the letter then got up and walked to the large stone fireplace. Removing the wooden box from the mantel, he opened the lid then placed the piece of paper on top of the other letters and closed the lid. Maurice placed the wooden box back on the mantel when he thought of something as he walked to the desk and opened the drawer. He removed Marcus' journals when he placed the journals on the desk and sighed. As much as he hated to part with the journals, he knew they might help Belle and placed his hand on top of one of the journals.
The Dark Castle
Belle polished the silverware for the tea set with the chipped cup as she smiled and listened to the soft squeaking of the spinning wheel. She placed the cleaning cloth and the spoon on the table when she got up and walked to the spinning wheel. She noticed the content look on his face while the strands of straw moved through the fingers of his right hand and his left hand gently moved the wheel.
"Do you need something, Dearie?" he finally asked without looking at her.
"Will you teach me how to do that?" she asked when he stopped the spinning wheel and looked at her.
"You want to learn how to spin straw into gold?"
"No, I want to learn how to spin wool or thread. I thought I would try my hand at knitting."
Rumple had started teaching her how to card wool and spin the wool into thread or yarn before he left and she wondered if the Dark One remembered.
"I could just give you yarn."
"Please," she said as she gently placed her hand on his right shoulder and he looked at her hand and blinked. Something churned inside his chest as he sighed and gently removed her hand.
"I'm sorry, but the wheel only response to me," he said and she nodded her head. "By the way, your father sent something. It's on the table in the front hall."
Belle left the room when she walked down the hallway then stopped and looked at the wooden table near the large front doors. She picked up the parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with string as she wondered what Maurice had sent her and walked to the stairs. Sitting down, she untied the string then removed the journals and placed the journals on the stone step.
"He sent you…books?" the Dark One asked as she jumped from being startled and he softly giggled. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
"That's alright. And, yes, he sent me some books," Belle said as she picked the journals up and went up the stairs. He watched her going around the corner when he noticed she had forgotten one of the journals and picked the journal off the stone step. Sitting down on the stone step, he opened the journal and turned the pages. He read a few pages when he shut the journal, stood up and looked at the top of the stairs.
Avonlea – Gaston's cell
The water dribbled down the walls while a rat scurried across the floor and a low moan came from the shadows. The sound of chains rattling came closer as Gaston crawled across the floor then landed hard on his stomach. His right eye was swollen shut and his nose was bent to the left. Blood caked the split on his lower lip and bruises covered his face and arms. He dragged his left leg behind him as he coughed and tried to push himself up. Failing, he fell back onto the ground and breathed hard and fast through his mouth. His ribs were grinding together when he breathed and pain roared up his back.
Maurice's guards took great pleasure in beating him after his failed attack and they had taunted him with how they were going to return to do even worse things to him.
"Gaston?" a female sing song voice asked as he tried to lift his head then sighed and rested the left side of his face against the cold stone.
"Go away," he mumbled as footsteps came closer and he swore he heard the sound of cloth sweeping the floor.
"I don't think you want me to go."
"Who are you?"
"That would be telling."
"Why are you here?"
"I am here to free you."
"Why would you do that?" he asked then felt someone kneeling next to him, cool fingers gently stroking his hair, and could feel lips barely touching his ear.
"Don't you want revenge?" a soft voice whispered in his ear.
"Of course I do!" he growled through his teeth.
"I can give you the revenge you seek, but you must do something for me."
"I do not make deals with demons."
"Then I shall be going."
"No, wait, what do you want?"
"It's simple, really. All you have to do is serve me as my knight," the female voice said and Gaston frowned.
"That's all?"
"Yes, now, do we have a deal?"
"Yes," Gaston said softly then screamed as a soul searing pain roared through his body and his mind felt like it was melting. The pain grew intense as he screamed louder and tears rolled down his cheeks. Blood pounded loudly in his ears as he panted and felt the cool fingers moving through his hair. The pain faded when he moaned and heard laughter echoing in his head.
"Well done," the female voice said with a stern tone and the sound of cloth swirled around him. "Now, My Winter Knight, stand."
"Yes, Mistress," Gaston said with a wooden tone to his voice and he slowly rose to his feet. The chains and the iron collar fell to the floor as Gaston looked straight ahead and someone placed their hand on the small of his back.
His hair was short and he was clean shaven.
His face was flawless, but his eyes were dead.
His body was lean, muscular and flawless.
His clothing and boots were repaired.
"Ah, you are a fine specimen," the female voice said then stood in front of Gaston and her eyes shimmered red. "Shall we be going?"
"Yes, Mistress," he said as a black smoke enveloped them and they vanished.