Little Gaston

Chapter 11

Gaston had been living in the castle with his caregivers for over two months already, both Belle and Adam easily accepting him as their little after the initial awkwardness with him thinking that Adam had ensorcelled Belle and subsequently trying to kill Adam had been settled.

He had thought it a curse to have lost his suppressing herbs, but the past few months have shown him that it might have been a blessing, for he had never expected anyone to accept him being a little so easily.

In fact, the two caregivers accepted it a whole lot better than Gaston himself did.

Oh, don't understand him wrongly. He was glad that he had given in to that part of him, having always tried to hide it away it because he had been taught it didn't fit the notion of being a man.

On the other hand, it left him vulnerable and dependent on the other two, and it was a strange position to find himself in, one he had never really experienced before. Gaston had always been told that people should be able to rely on him, to listen to him, and anything else was not good enough.

It was humbling at times, especially when he came into his big headspace during a very awkward moment, still having trouble to control it after years of using the herbs.

Even after two months, it was still embarrassing to have moments like that one time when he had gone messy in the diaper and Belle had just been cleaning him up when he grew big again, resisting the urge to hide himself from her while she continued putting him in a new diaper.

By now it was midsummer, and Gaston, in his big headspace, found himself wandering in the forest, trying to hunt to help stock the meat storages for the winter. It was a task that he had taken to himself and every time when he was in his big headspace, one could find him in the forests belonging to the castle.

He knew that doing this wasn't really necessary, but it made him feel useful and occupied, and he had always loved the forest, the not really silent surroundings, and the way he needed to be careful and subtle to get to his prey.

How much he had adored to be surrounded by the villagers, who were filled with praise for him, there was something to the solitude of walking into the forest, not having to pretend for anyone.

Unless Lefou came with him, his small friend always too talkative to be able to hunt well, but often welcome company.

But not anymore.

Gaston had seen some of the villagers before, either when they entered the castle to deliver goods or when he ventured a bit too close to the village during his forest walks.

Always, he made sure to stay out of sight, but he had overheard enough conversations with his name being dropped after they thought he died during the battle at the castle.

It had never been in a favourable light either, and it was clear that they had put the complete blame of the invasion of the castle on him.

It was, of course, but his reasons had been solid enough, and they hadn't been too hard to convince either. They had the same fear as him and were scared of the beast they saw in the magic mirror, another proof that magic had been in play.

But that part they seemed to have forgotten. Now they blamed him and spit on his name, as if it was poison, saying that they would have been better of without having met him, talking about how glad they were that he was gone.

The only upside was that they believed he was dead, which made it easier to hide, because he knew that he could never show his face to them again.

The thunder pulled him out of his thoughts and made him look up at the sky, seeing the overcast clouds and he knew that it was going to be a dreary evening, wet and rainy, which would soon lower the temperatures.