MAURICE sat alone in the furthest corner of Gaston's tavern, nursing a tankard of ale one of three triplets Paulette, had brought him and tried to drown the bitter memories of the last fifteen minutes.
The boisterous chatter of the other villagers and the clinking of tankards provided a feeble backdrop to the inventor's gloomy thoughts. He knew he had done the right thing by refusing to allow Gaston to marry his beloved Belle, though the consequences of that decision had been swift and painful, his cheek still made red and torpid by the force of Gaston's blow earlier.
The evening sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a shadow over the village.
The sounds of laughter and camaraderie outside the tavern's wooden doors were suddenly shattered by the deafening toll of the village bell. Maurice's heart lurched at the ominous sound, and he stumbled to his feet, spilling ale on the rough-hewn table.
Maurice stumbled as he accidentally collided with Paulette, his face a mixture of surprise and concern. Paulette, in her green dress and with her long blonde ponytail swaying, regained her balance and steadied herself. She too was taken aback by the sudden commotion in the village.
Maurice, his voice trembling with anxiety, turned to Paulette and asked, "Forgive me, Paulette, my dear, I-I did not mean to run into you just now, but what on earth is happening out there?"
Paulette, her green eyes wide with alarm, replied, "Fire, Maurice, sir! There's a fire somewhere in the village, and that bell is the alarm. We must find out where it's coming from and help!"
The bell continued to ring, signaling that something was wrong, the mournful tone echoed through the village, and the hubbub in the tavern quickly transformed into panicked cries and shouts.
The anxiety in Maurice's voice was shared by many others now. The once lively atmosphere in the tavern had given way to chaos as patrons scrambled for answers and safety. Panic swept through the village as the patrons rushed out of the tavern and out into the streets.
Maurice, with Paulette leading the way as the blonde tugged on his sleeve and urged him forward, rushed out of the tavern, his heart pounding hard in his chest.
The evening air was filled with thick smoke and the acrid scent of burning wood. Panic-stricken villagers ran in every direction, their cries of terror and despair filling the night. Through the haze, Maurice's eyes widened as he saw the inferno raging in the direction of his home.
As the flames continued to devour his home, Maurice, despite his heavy heart and the despair that crashed over him like a tidal wave, knew that he couldn't bear to stand idle any longer.
With a resolve that burned brighter than the flames in the distance, he made a mad dash towards the home that had once been his and Belle's sanctuary, a place filled with the laughter and warmth of his beloved daughter, the only memory he had left now of his dear wife.
The fire danced wildly, hungrily devouring everything in its path.
As he drew closer, Maurice's heart constricted in his chest, for he could see his cherished home engulfed in flames, Belle's laughter and warmth disappearing into the smoke and ash.
But before Maurice could reach the blazing inferno, a delicate hand shot out, slender fingers wrapping themselves to grasp around his arm.
It was Paulette, the kindest and most compassionate of the village's triplets. She always had a kind word for Maurice on the rare occasions he ventured into the tavern for a drink, and seemed to always want to speak to Belle, despite her sisters' dislike of his daughter and their constant confusion to understand how Belle could continuously reject Gaston's attentions and affections.
Her catlike green eyes were wide with fear, and her voice quivered as she implored, "Maurice, monsieur, please, you can't go in there! It's too dangerous!"
Maurice wrenched his arm free, his eyes blazing with determination and anger. "No! I can't let this injustice stand! I must know the truth, Paulette! I must try to save what's left of our lives!"
With that, he pushed forward, ignoring the pleas and cries of the villagers around him.
Paulette could only watch him go, torn between her concern for the man's safety and her sympathy for his plight. She suspected that this fire did not simply just happen and that Maurice deserved his answers.
The flames crackled and roared, the heat growing more intense as Maurice drew nearer to his burning home. He could feel the scorching heat on his skin, but the love for his daughter and the need to uncover the truth propelled him forward.
As he neared the flames, the reality of what had transpired began to sink in. The path ahead was uncertain, and he would need to summon all his strength and courage to confront the unknown.
Before Maurice could try to step inside, he fell to his knees as the roof of his home collapsed and the entire foundation was razed to the ground. His eyes brimmed with tears as he watched the flames consume everything within he and Belle held dear.
The sight was unbearable, and he felt a deep, searing pain in his soul. Amidst the chaos that enveloped the village, Maurice's attention was drawn to Paulette, who silently came to stand behind him. She knelt into a crouch, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder in a small but meaningful gesture of comfort. Maurice turned to Paulette, her presence a balm to his distressed soul.
He was touched by the young blonde's kind spirit and her silent support. However, his attempt to speak to her was abruptly interrupted as he spotted Gaston nearby. Gaston stood at a slight distance, a stark contrast to the turmoil around him.
His demeanor exuded a disquieting calm, almost unnaturally cold and listless. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, and the former military captain's expression remained unreadable, shrouding his true intentions in mystery.
"Stand back, everyone!" Gaston bellowed, his voice cutting through the clamor. "There's nothing that can be done about it now. No amount of water can save that house. Let it burn!"
"Please, Maurice, sir," Paulette implored, her voice laced with genuine concern as she reached out to him. "You need to walk away now, monsieur, you do not need to be here, witnessing this. Let me take you back to the tavern from here. I'll prepare one of the beds for you to stay the night. You can rest and think about what to do in the morning."
Maurice turned to look at Paulette, and the blonde's words offered a glimmer of hope during the chaos. Her kindness and the promise of a haven were a welcome respite from the fiery turmoil that surrounded them.
But just as he opened his mouth to respond, his attention was abruptly diverted by the ominous presence of Gaston, who had been drawn to the sound of Paulette's voice as she attempted to soothe Maurice.
Gaston, with his imposing presence and chilling demeanor, shifted his attention towards Paulette. His colorless grey eyes bore into her with an icy detachment that sent a shiver down her spine.
The former military captain's voice, though commanding, was now strangely cold and dismissive as he spoke to her.
"You," Gaston said, his voice slicing through the tense air, "should not be speaking to Maurice, Paulette."
Paulette felt a surge of frustration and defiance rising within her. She was not one to be easily intimidated, even in the face of Gaston's imposing presence.
Turning to Maurice, she whispered urgently, "Don't pay him any mind, Maurice. I don't care what others in our town say. I've always admired you and Belle. You both deserve shelter from this chaos. Come with me."
Her eyes pleaded with him, attempting to convey her genuine concern and offer of solace, despite the intimidating figure of Gaston.
Maurice hesitated, torn between the warmth of Paulette's unexpectedly kind offer and the enigmatic authority of Gaston. The flames continued to consume the house, crackling loudly, a vivid reminder of the urgency of the situation.
Paulette's kind and reassuring words tugged at his heart, and he nodded to her numbly in silent gratitude, unable to find the words to convey his thanks, as his throat tightened.
But Gaston remained a formidable obstacle, his demeanor unwavering.
"I said, there's nothing to be done, Paulette, have you gone deaf, mademoiselle?" he reiterated, his tone unyielding. "Let the house burn."
But Paulette, much like Belle, wasn't one to yield easily. She fixed an unyielding gaze upon Gaston, her determination shining through.
"Maurice needs shelter, Gaston, and I won't just stand by and leave him to face this alone. If you won't assist him, then I will. Deduct the cost of his stay at the tavern from my wages," she declared firmly, resolute in her decision to support Maurice in his time of need.
Gaston's stoic expression remained unchanged, and he rejected Paulette's offer with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I have no intention of using your wages for this, Paulette. Maurice can fend for himself." His words were laced with an unyielding resolve.
Maurice, who had been silently watching the exchange between the former captive and the vibrant young blonde he had always hoped Belle would connect with, couldn't contain his suspicions any longer. He had long wished for Belle to have a close friend, a young lady companion in her life, and now, the suspicion and accusation that had been festering within him suddenly erupted without any prior warning. Maurice's tear-blurred eyes locked onto Gaston.
The truth struck him like a lightning bolt, and he couldn't shake the feeling that Gaston was responsible for the fire, a manipulative ploy to coerce Belle into marriage.
In the grip of his grief and anger, Maurice pointed an accusing finger at the arrogant suitor. His voice trembled with raw emotion as he shouted, "You did this, Gaston, didn't you? You started the fire! You wanted to see our home destroyed so Belle would have no choice but to turn to you for support!"
Paulette, witnessing the explosive accusation, felt a sudden wave of concern for Belle's father. She stepped closer and tugged on his sleeve as she helped the grieving and frustrated inventor to his feet.
Her voice was filled with urgency and empathy. "Maurice, sir, please, let's not jump to conclusions just yet. Accusing Gaston of something so grave without evidence… won't help you or Belle." Her eyes pleaded with him, and her hand gently rested on his trembling shoulder.
Maurice's anger and suspicion churned within him, torn between the overwhelming desire for justice and the need to consider the consequences of his words.
The town square buzzed with tension as the townsfolk watched the drama unfold, unsure of where the truth lay in this tangled web of emotions and accusations. Gaston's icy façade shattered, replaced by a simmering anger. He scoffed at Maurice's accusation, his voice dripping with disdain.
"You're out of your mind, Maurice, to think I'd stoop so low. To accuse me of arson is pure madness." His words were laced with a mocking tone. Turning to the patrons of the tavern who had gathered around to watch the spectacle unfold, Gaston raised his voice, calling out for assistance. "Someone fetch Monsieur D'Arque, the town's doctor! It seems our dear Maurice has finally lost his wits entirely!"
The onlookers hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances, unsure of what to make of the escalating situation. As the tension near the smoldering remains of what was left of Maurice and Belle's home escalated, LeFou rushed forward, panting and out of breath. His frantic eyes darted around the town square, trying to make sense of the chaos that had erupted in his absence. He approached the crowd, wide-eyed and bewildered, and caught the attention of the blacksmith.
"What's going on here?" he asked, his voice trembling with confusion. "I heard shouting. Did something happen to Maurice?" LeFou's face showed genuine concern for Belle's father as he desperately sought answers amid the turmoil.
LeFou's eyes widened in horror as he followed the gazes of the onlookers, his gaze now fixed on the scorched, smoldering remnants of what had once been Maurice's home. The devastation before him sent a shiver down his spine, and he was at a loss for words. In his search for an explanation, LeFou turned to Paulette, his eyes filled with confusion and concern. There was no denying that LeFou was quite taken with the tall and statuesque blonde, though his affections had gone unrequited.
He awkwardly cleared his throat, an odd flush coming over his cheeks and stammered, "Paulette, er, what happened out here? Why…why is Maurice…?"
Paulette met his gaze, the blonde's expression empathetic but not quite sharing LeFou's romantic sentiments.
"LeFou, there's…a lot to unravel," she replied softly in a voice that was barely above a whisper. "Maurice has made some serious accusations, and tensions are running high. We need to sort things out, but it's not a simple solution." The complexity of the situation weighed heavily on her, and her attention remained focused on the unfolding drama.
LeFou numbly nodded, still unable to tear his eyes away from the devastating scene.
The sight of Maurice's ruined home and the turmoil in the tavern had left him feeling overwhelmed and bewildered. As he tried to gather more information about what had transpired, he couldn't help but feel a growing concern for both Maurice and Paulette.
He had seen the kindness in her eyes, and even though her affections didn't lean in his direction as he had always secretly hoped for, he was still determined to help in any way he could offer.
Amidst the escalating tension, Paulette returned her full attention to Gaston and continued to plead with the man, her words filled with sincerity and concern.
"Gaston, please, we've known Maurice for years, he would never hurt a fly!" she implored. "He's not one to make baseless accusations. We need to consider what he's saying!"
Paulette's plea was interrupted by the approaching sound of footsteps on the bricked cobblestones behind her. She turned to find Monsieur D'Arque, the town's doctor and the owner of the nearby insane asylum, drawing nearer. His arrival immediately seized everyone's attention, casting a shadow of uncertainty over the already tumultuous scene.
Monsieur D'Arque, with his imposing presence and discerning if not slightly gaunt gaze seemed to be the key figure who could unravel the mystery surrounding Maurice's accusations. The townsfolk held their breath, anxious to see how the doctor's involvement would shape the unfolding drama.
As Monsieur D'Arque made his way towards the center of the commotion, the tension in the air was palpable. The crowd of onlookers watched anxiously, awaiting the respected doctor's assessment of Maurice's mental state.
Paulette's plea for understanding had not gone unnoticed by her two sisters, Claudette, and Laurette. They had been hovering nearby, their curiosity piqued by the drama unfolding before them.
As they approached, their expressions shifted from looks of mild concern to expressions of shock and anger when they heard Paulette challenging Gaston and expressing her intent to help Maurice.
"What are you doing, Paulette?" Claudette demanded, her voice tinged with disapproval as she toyed with the end of her long blonde ponytail and bit her lip. "You shouldn't be getting involved with the old man's nonsense!"
Laurette added, her face contorted with anger, "We're not meant to question Gaston or to defend Belle's father, sister. This is not your place. Come back to the tavern and forget him."
Paulette's sisters, like many in the village, were under the spell of Gaston's charisma and didn't understand the depth of her concern for Maurice.
She found herself torn between her family's expectations and her genuine desire to do what she believed was right in this complicated situation. Paulette, her determination unwavering, shook her head in defiance of her sisters' disapproval. She had always been a kind and compassionate soul, more so than her siblings, and she couldn't stand idly by in the face of Maurice's distress.
"No. I won't turn a blind eye to someone in need," she replied firmly, her voice laced with resolve. "Maurice is our friend, and he's been through a terrible ordeal. I won't abandon him when he needs help the most."
Despite her sisters' disapproval and the looming presence of Monsieur D'Arque, Paulette remained steadfast in her commitment to support Maurice in his time of need. The uncertainty in the air deepened, and the townsfolk watched, divided in their loyalties, as the drama continued to unfold.
As Paulette bravely stood her ground under the eyes of half their entire village, her attention was drawn to Monsieur D'Arque, who had now arrived at the center of the commotion. She couldn't help but worry about Maurice, who was emotionally distraught and in desperate need of help.
Trying to shield Maurice from the doctor's scrutiny, Paulette took a step forward and pleaded with Monsieur D'Arque, her voice trembling slightly. "Please, Monsieur D'Arque, Maurice is not well. He's been through a terrible shock. We need to show him some understanding and care."
However, Monsieur D'Arque's focus shifted to Gaston, ignoring Paulette's plea.
"Gaston," D'Arque curtly addressed the former military captain, "what seems to be the problem here tonight? You called me to assess the situation, but I cannot provide aid without more information."
Gaston, with his charismatic demeanor, seized the opportunity to narrate the events as he saw them, painting Maurice as deranged and making wild accusations.
The townsfolk watched with bated breath as the doctor listened intently to Gaston's account.
Gaston spoke with an air of authority, recounting the evening's events. "Belle's father has gone off his wits and lost his senses, Monsieur D'Arque, my good man. He has accused me of starting that fire, made wild claims about my intentions towards Belle, created this entire commotion, and thrown our peaceful village into a state of chaos. I'm genuinely concerned about the man's safety."
Monsieur D'Arque listened attentively, his expression serious as he considered Gaston's account.
He then turned his listless gaze to Paulette, who was still standing protectively near Maurice, an arm held out in front of him as though she thought that could shield him.
"And what do you have to say, my dear?" he inquired.
Paulette, her voice filled with conviction, implored the doctor, "Monsieur, you must understand that Maurice is not himself. He's been through a traumatic experience that would affect anyone, and I fear this may have pushed him over the edge. He needs help, not judgment."
The crowd around them fell into an uneasy silence, as Monsieur D'Arque contemplated the conflicting accounts before him. The future of Maurice and the tranquility of the village hinged on his decision, and the townsfolk awaited anxiously for the respected doctor's judgment of Maurice.
Monsieur D'Arque's expressionless gaze shifted from Paulette to Maurice, and after a moment of contemplation, he made his decision.
"Maurice, monsieur," he began, "I believe it is within your best interest to come with me to the asylum for further assessment. We will ensure that you receive the care and treatment you need."
Maurice's eyes widened in shock and fury at the doctor's pronouncement.
"What?!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling with dismay and anger. "You can't be serious! I'm not mad, and I won't be kept locked away! This is madness!"
Paulette's horror was evident as she stepped forward, pleading with Monsieur D'Arque, "Please, Monsieur, you can't do this! Maurice is not dangerous, he's just distressed. There must be another way to help him. Taking him to the asylum won't solve anything, and it will only make matters worse."
Monsieur D'Arque, unmoved by her pleas, insisted, "My decision is final, mademoiselle. Maurice will come with me for a more thorough assessment, and we will determine the best course of action."
As Maurice's protests grew more desperate, and Paulette's pleas became more fervent, the atmosphere buzzed with tension and uncertainty, and the fate of Belle's father now hung in the balance. Maurice, despite his loud and vehement protests, was led away by Monsieur D'Arque and two of his guards.
Paulette, trembling with a mixture of anger and despair, turned to LeFou, her voice filled with desperation. "LeFou, you have to talk to Gaston! Convince him that this is wrong! Maurice needs help, not to be locked away!"
To her horror and fury, however, LeFou had become paralyzed by fear, torn between his loyalty to Gaston and his concern for Maurice.
He stammered, "I…I can't, Paulette. Gaston won't listen to me. I can't risk losing his approval."
Paulette's frustration boiled over as she shouted, "Then you're nothing but a coward, LeFou! You can't just stand here and let this happen! This is an injustice, and you know it, we all know it!" Her voice cracked, and tears welled up in her eyes as she realized the gravity of the situation. She knew that something needed to be done to inform Belle about her father's plight, but Belle, to her knowledge, was gone and she had not the faintest idea of where to begin her search for Maurice's daughter.
Amidst the turmoil, Maurice, still being led away, called out to Paulette, recognizing the young lady was perhaps the only one who would listen to him.
"Please, Paulette, tell Belle what's happened. She's taken work in the Prince's castle. The path through the woods will lead you there. She needs to know." His voice was filled with urgency and concern for Belle, as he disappeared, leaving behind a shattered community, and a heartbroken inventor's plea for help.
Paulette could only watch as Belle's father was led out of sight by Monsieur D'Arque and turned to face LeFou and her sisters with tears welling behind her eyes. As she pleaded with them for their help, her desperation and urgency were evident in her voice.
"Please, LeFou, Claudette, Laurette," she begged, "I can't do this alone. Maurice is in trouble, and Belle needs to know. I can't just stand by and let this injustice happen. Please, help me find her."
LeFou hesitated, torn between his loyalty to Gaston and his concern for Paulette. "Paulette, I want to help, but you know how Gaston is. I can't go against him," he admitted, his voice quivering.
Claudette and Laurette exchanged glances, their expressions still filled with skepticism and disapproval. "Paulette," Claudette said with a sigh, "you're getting involved in something that doesn't concern us. Maurice is acting mad, just like Belle. We can't risk our reputations."
Laurette chimed in, "She's right. It's not our place, and you should think about your future, Paulette."
Paulette, simmering with anger, her voice tinged with disappointment, nodded curtly and turned away in a twist of her skirts, her ponytail swishing behind her.
"Fine, I'll do it alone if neither of you will help me," she muttered.
With unwavering determination in her eyes, Paulette walked away from over half the village, sensing the weight of their judgmental stares lingering at the back of her head. She returned briefly to the tavern, just long enough to retrieve her green cape, before venturing into the woods, leaving her unsupportive friends and family behind. Her commitment was unwavering; she was determined to find Belle and reveal the unsettling truth, no matter the challenges that lay ahead.
A/N: I've long wanted to introduce the triplets from Beauty and the Beast into a story, especially Paulette. I believe Belle could use a female friend, and I'm excited to explore their interactions. I hope you like what I plan to do with Paulette going forward.