WHEN Belle next regained consciousness, her surroundings were completely dark. But she was vaguely aware that she was not in the dark though, for out of the edges of her gaze, she could see a faint orange glow that was no doubt coming from a campfire.
It took a few moments for the haze of confusion Belle found herself in to dissipate and she was struck to the bone with a wave of cold, debilitating terror that Gaston had taken her someplace unfamiliar to her.
She always felt fear, the realization of the cause of the sense of her impending doom at Gaston's hands nearly caused her heart to stop beating right then and there. Everything came back to her suddenly in a flash of knowing so strong, that it nearly stole the breath from her lungs.
No holes were missing. None that Belle could recall, anyways, and she tried to think about where Gaston might have brought her and what she might be able to say or do to get out of this precarious position she now found herself in. She attempted to move and immediately realized that was a mistake as blinding pain shot up her leg.
She winced and let out a little wolfish whine, but once Belle stopped moving, the pain in her foot from where Gaston's bear trap had caught her subsided. She drew in a sharp breath and held it, almost afraid to let it out as she spotted no signs of Gaston. If he'd gone, she did not want him to come back. If only she could walk, she could flee...
She slowly opened her eyes and found that Gaston had taken her to a cave of sorts. It was cold, dank, and moldy, and the mouth of the cave was large and allowed for the chilly night breezes to sweep into the cave.
The fire that Gaston had lit seemingly for warmth and light did little to warm her bones.
Her nervous eyes made a quick scan of the dark cave and she spotted Gaston across the cave, leaning against the cold stone, the hunter looking untroubled by the cold breezes that swept through the cave's entrance.
Her throat hurt as she considered whether or not she should try to supplicate Gaston somewhat, but she suspected that anything she said would only anger the man further.
The questions ran through Belle's mind at an unbelievable speed and by the time Gaston had noticed she was awake and coming towards her, her lips were parting, but no sound was coming out. It wasn't until Gaston knelt into a crouch and put a hand on her injured foot that a near scream left her throat and she jerked her body to the left to try to get away from him. More pain shot up and down her leg and she bit down on her tongue so hard that she tasted blood. Bile rose in her throat. She thought if she tried to speak, she would be ill.
"Please, Gaston," she whispered, finding the words leaving her lips before Belle had even decided to try to beg for her life. Gaston said nothing. The man's lips curved upward and the warped little smile on his face once more sent a chill through Belle as he loomed over her, holding all the power. Slowly, the man's watery gray eyes moved from hers and looked down at the length of her monstrous form. He looked menacing. "You—you don't have to do this, please...let...let me go, Gaston," Belle pleaded, realizing just how stupid her words were once she said them.
Of course, Gaston didn't have to do this. It was obvious that the hunter wanted to. It was in his blood. He seemed to emphasize this by raising the large knife he felt in his hands. Belle felt a wave of unexplainable terror flood over her.
"Your tricks aren't going to work on me, she-wolf, do you take me to be a stupid man?" Gaston finally growled, a shadow of anger flashing across the hunter's handsome features. "This would go so much more smoothly for you if you just tell me what I want to know. Your Pack, girl, where are the rest of you? Tell me. Now," Gaston snapped.
"I…" Belle began and she continued to splutter incoherently as Gaston raised the large hunting knife in his hands and pressed the blade against her lips.
She forced herself to fall silent but could feel her body trembling violently. His meaning was clear enough.
Behave, tell me what I want to know, or I kill you and mount your head on my wall.
Gaston leaned over her, one hand moving to grip one of her horns as he pulled Belle roughly to her feet, and she felt his lips come to whisper into her ear.
"Tell me and I will make it quick for you," he whispered, his hot breath ghosting into her ear and making Belle shiver. "If you don't, then you'll go slowly, she-wolf."
"The—the woods, we—we live deeper within," Belle lied as tears began to stream down her cheeks. Black spots crept into her vision and she trembled even more violently as she felt Gaston's gloved hand tighten around her left horn. "I was traveling with three others like—like me."
She felt like she could barely breathe as exhaustion and nausea came over her in waves so strong, she was nearly sick. She wondered if it was the berries she had eaten that were causing this queasiness. There should have been nothing else to make her feel sick. She could already tell she wasn't going to last much longer.
Gaston narrowed his eyes. "Why then, don't I believe that, little wolf?" he growled, cocking his head to the side and dragging his knife across her collarbone.
"B-but we got separated…" Belle hesitated and Gaston curled his fingers into the skin of her arm, nearly piercing her skin, and gripping onto her arm even tighter. She winced, the pain was so great that it was all she could think of. She felt herself beginning to panic. Her vision was beginning to get hazy.
"You lie, she-wolf, now tell me what you know."
Gaston's hand found its way to her throat, his fingers cutting off her oxygen supply.
Belle couldn't help but scream as a pained sob left her lips this time, he dug his nails and his knife into her arm deep enough that he was starting to draw blood.
"I-I'm telling you the truth, please, stop! Gaston, it's me, it's Belle!" she screamed, tears trailing down her cheeks.
Belle opened her eyes and stared toward the mouth of whatever cave Gaston had brought her to. She felt too weak to move and could only slump against the cold stones of the cave as Gaston let go of her horns. However, she couldn't make anything out too clearly, as her head was pounding and her vision was blinded by her tears.
Gaston turned, wondering what had his prey's attention so captivated, but there was nothing. The hunter turned back to face Belle with a scowl.
"Your Pack seems to have done you a terrible disservice, she-wolf, by abandoning you," Gaston sneered, bending slightly at the waist, and pulling Belle up off the ground once more, seizing her by her horns and ignoring her pained yelp that sounded more like a wounded dog who'd been kicked by its master. "Perhaps I'll let you live for now if only to present you to the woman whose looks you've tried to steal, to show Belle that I'm serious about my feelings. She seems to think I'm not sincere enough. What better gift than to lay at my bride's feet the very creature who nearly whisked her away?" he snarled and tossed Belle against the cave's wall and laughed a bark-like laugh.
Belle could only let out a whine that sounded wolfish as she slid down the stone wall, the cold hard stone digging into her back, which she was sure was now bruised. She let out a moan and curled in on herself the moment she felt Gaston's boot connect sharply to her side.
Gaston kicked her over so that she was left with no choice but to roll onto her back and he put his foot on her chest.
"Please, Gaston, don't," Belle gasped hoarsely as she struggled in vain to pull Gaston's foot off her.
His foot was nearly threatening to crack at least two of her ribs if he weren't careful, and the look on his face told her that he wasn't about to be gentle. Gaston snorted as he merely applied a bit more pressure to his foot, taunting the poor girl with a threat Belle sincerely hoped he wasn't about to carry out. She knew as well as he did that he could have crushed Belle's ribs with just one good stomp of his foot if he was of the mind to do it.
Belle felt tears spilling from the edges of her eyes as she pushed against the man's black leather boot with weak arms. Her vision was growing even more cloudy, and it was a struggle to stay awake.
Bile rose in her throat, and it took everything she had within herself not to throw up. She couldn't move and Gaston was pressing his foot down against her chest, more and more as the seconds passed her by in a hazy blur.
Belle knew there was no point in begging for her life. Even if she wanted to, she barely had the strength left to scream. She wasn't sure what sort of berries she had eaten, but she was sure that she had accidentally poisoned herself. She'd never felt so sick in her entire life and added to that, her life was now in Gaston's hands.
Nothing she could say or do was going to sway the hunter's mind and convince him that she was Belle.
Belle felt her entire body go limp, and she tiredly closed her eyes as she allowed the tides of darkness to surge for her, even as her ears perked up at the sound of scuffling cloaks coming to her aid, and hearing someone shouting.
THE Prince's heart pounded loudly in his chest as he stormed through the dark Wolves' Woods, hardly daring to believe what was happening. It was a hard drumming sound that he could hear in his ears.
How could this have bloody happened? Where could the prickly little she-wolf have disappeared to and worse, what if the worst had come to pass and one of her villagers had found her and had killed her? Every sound had the hairs on his body standing on end. He knew that likely the only person who would miss the farm girl was her father and he had personally seen to that for the moment, but it was suffering the king's wrath that Adam feared.
His head, scarred though it was, was better left on his shoulders. Discovering the Beast missing and not where he had left the girl in the forest clearing had been the only time in Adam's life that he'd known fear, true fear.
Just as the Prince was about to start throwing things in anger, not knowing where the Beast could have disappeared to, the stubborn girl, a small sound coming from a nearby cave snatched the man from his senses.
He listened quietly and intently for more sounds, following the noise to the cave.
Adam was horrified as he stepped into the darkness that was only barely illuminated by the fire at the cave's entrance to find Belle. She appeared to be unconscious and did not look well at all. There was a fair amount of blood on her arm, and she looked to be suffering a few bruises on her face. She was not moving.
The Prince could not even detect the rise and fall of the prickly little she-wolf's chest. The Prince turned towards the handsome dark-haired hunter towering over the fallen Changeling girl and stared, hardly daring to believe that this man could have been so cruel. Yet the proof was right in front of him. He had hurt her.
As cold and apathetic as he had acted toward Belle up to this point, not even he would wish this sort of fate on her.
He watched, the blood draining from his face, as the hunter merely nodded to the Prince, seeming not to recognize that he was the monarch of these lands, and knelt into a crouch in front of the young woman's unconscious form.
The Prince's stomach lurched as he realized what this man was about to do and the command was out of his mouth before he could doubt himself.
"STOP!" he roared, and the hunter froze in his tracks, his expression hardening as he slowly turned to look at him.
The Prince could practically see the revolt this handsome villager was nursing against him, yet for a moment, all the hunter could do was stare at Adam, his mouth going slightly slack in surprise as the Prince stepped forward.
The man's gray watery eyes landed upon the great sword that rested at his hip.
His eyes then flicked toward his family's crest that was embroidered on his vest. Adam had the brief satisfaction of seeing the color drain from the man's face as recognition flashed through his eyes, but only for a moment.
The hunter rose to his feet and regarded the Prince suspiciously.
"Your Highness?" he questioned, looking confused as to what the Prince of their realm could be doing neck deep within the thick dense Wolves' Woods. "What in God's name are you doing in the woods?" he questioned, his face suddenly becoming all suspicious as his gray eyes narrowed.
The Prince felt his defenses rise and he nearly bared his teeth at this simple hunter for daring to question his presence in this forest that he, by rights, owned. "I rule over these lands, the last time I checked, and to the best of my knowledge, I am allowed to walk in this forest unaccompanied by my servants, but you will answer me. What are you doing with...it?" he growled, almost saying the girl's name, but he stopped himself and waited for the man's response.
"You're mistaken, sir, if you prevent me from killing this—this Beast, if I let her live, then she will come after the women and children of our village. Your Highness, I beg of you, let me end it," Gaston snapped, standing up straight and to his full height, towering over the Prince. This villager had at least a good foot and a half over him by comparison. But Adam was not about to be daunted by this man's savage growling or his barely contained anger.
"No. You will not lay a hand on this...creature. Leave." The Prince could feel his teeth beginning to chatter, feeling his heartbeats which were now in his throat and his fingers began to twitch, which he was grateful were hidden beneath thick leather gloves. The other man scowled and shot his Prince with something akin to a poisonous glare. "Have you gone deaf, monsieur? Leave," he repeated. His words tasted bitter on his tongue. "If I find you in these woods hunting cognizant creatures like her again, it will not end well for you, I promise you."
The Prince turned away from the man, not bothering to look back at the murderous look in the man's pale grey eyes. He knew he would be wasting efforts further and so he stalked into the cave to check on Belle, though he listened intently to the man's footsteps and his muttered curses as the hunter stalked off, swearing under his breath.
Adam suspected he would likely come to regret his words, as no doubt there would now be even more rumors about him swirling throughout the villages that he oversaw that he was going touched in the head if he was saving and sympathetic to Changeling creatures, accursed creatures who were evil, soulless, and deserving of nothing but death. His first urge as he approached where Belle lay, oddly enough, was to touch her.
This was a new desire for him, considering the last thing he thought he wanted to touch was the monstrous fur that now covered her entire body, but… he needed to make sure she was not injured anywhere else other than her arm, and to make sure the girl was real, that he'd finally found her. The Prince scowled as her eyelids fluttered but the girl did not wake. He reached down and started to scoop the Beast into his arms, trying his best to support her weight, but the horns atop her head were heavier than they looked and as such, added weight to her otherwise small frame.
The longer he looked upon her as he finally managed to get his prickly she-wolf whom he was now bound to like it or not, by witch's hex, the angrier he grew that she had walked away. He felt his muscles twitch and he fought the urge to wake her, but he still yearned to punish her for what she'd done.
The Prince waited patiently as he heard her let out a low moan and slowly open her eyes, looking around in confusion with wet and wild eyes for a moment before her panicked dark eyes finally landed on her face.
The pain and confusion were written all over her Beastly face, as plain as day and it only made Adam feel angrier as he realized that she had no idea how very close she'd come to having her head mounted on the wall of the hunter's home he'd dismissed.
"Gaston?" she whispered hoarsely, her soft voice meeting his ears.
He nearly let out a sigh and closed his eyes and almost let himself pretend that for a moment, she was the beautiful girl he'd first spotted in her hovel of a village, not the monster the witch had turned her into.
Hers was a voice he liked and decided then and there that he wanted to hear it more.
That and her hair and eyes were perhaps her best qualities that remained untouched by the witch's spell. It was almost as if she had done it deliberately, perhaps to remind him that the girl was still human underneath.
The witch Agathe was teasing him, playing on him like this by keeping the not-so-subtle reminders that the she-wolf he was now touching had been a beautiful girl once. And he did not like it.
"No," he answered curtly, and only then did the Beast seem to come out of her haze and come back to herself a bit.
He watched as her eyes widened as she realized who it was she was dealing with, and she made to pull away, though he only tightened his grip further around her waist.
Irritated that she was putting up such a fuss, the Prince snapped at her in a harsh voice.
"Stop moving. He hurt you. Moving around like that, you're only going to make it worse. Trust me, I know a thing or two of knife wounds," he growled, a pit forming in his stomach as visions of Father the night he'd given him the scar that marred his otherwise handsome features came to mind. He had trouble shaking the memories away and nearly growled with the effort, likely frightening the girl. "Here, lean into me, I can support you for most of the walk back."
Belle stared, almost certain she had misheard, but after a moment's hesitation, she assented and allowed him to lead her out of whatever cave she brought. Perhaps the confusion could be seen in her eyes as she looked for Gaston to the left and right and spotted no signs of the handsome boy from her village, for he gruffly spoke.
"The man who took you will not be bothering you again. I've sent him away," the Prince grunted in a tone that suggested she would be wise not to bring it up further throughout their walk back to his castle.
Belle slowly nodded her head at all of the information, and then the reason for them coming to her village in the first place came back to her all at once.
"Agathe, Your Highness, did you speak with her? Were you able to ask her about…the curse?" she asked, unable to keep the note of hope out of her voice as she twisted her head to the side and winced, trying to ignore the pain in her wounded arm as she held it close to her chest. The Prince turned his head to look at her and shot her a withering look that under normal circumstances, she'd not have flinched at, but now, she winced.
"Tomorrow morning, mademoiselle, when you are better rested and my castle's physician has had a chance to look at your arm, we will speak of it. I will not discuss my conversation with your heathen pagan witch anymore tonight," the Prince angrily barked.
Belle sighed in defeat, recognizing that for now, it would have to do, and looked down sheepishly at her boots as they walked, though she noticed how the Prince was careful to move at her pace and he was not rushing her, which she appreciated. She was beginning to feel more than a little embarrassed that the Prince had to come and save her, but she was grateful he had and she did not want to appear ungrateful.
Belle then remembered she owed the master of the castle her thanks.
"Thank you, sir, for…for saving my life," she whispered shyly, cringing as the words left her lips.
They sounded so impersonal. The Prince looked shocked at hearing her thanks, but less so than Belle had expected to be, and merely grunted by way of response.
"Do not ever do something so foolish again, she-wolf," he snapped, his face turning slightly red and not from the cold. "That is all I will say on the matter for now. As I said, we will discuss it more tomorrow. For the moment, we need to keep moving. There are wolves in this forest and I don't want to be caught by a pack of them when we're almost back," the Prince muttered and looked away. It was, Belle realized, his way of terminating a conversation. She supposed for now, that it would have to do, but even so, she dreaded their conversation that was to come.
There was much more that she wanted to say to the Prince, for that matter, but she was exhausted and her arm hurt too much for her to concentrate on anything else but breathing heavily through the worst of her pains as they continued walking in utter silence. She could only hope that tomorrow, the Prince would forgive her and tell her the secret to undoing Agathe's curse, though she wasn't sure she liked the distraught look in the man's blue eyes.
Secretly, Belle's hope inwardly dimmed. Whatever information Agathe had imparted to the Prince must not be good news, if he was reluctant to share it with her right here and now.
She sighed, frustrated, and felt her shoulders slump in disappointment.
Already, she was beginning to fear the worst, that Agathe's curse would not be so easily undone.
If only she could have known how right she was.