The Dreamer and the Hunter - A Beauty and the Beast Story

Troubled

Something cold trickled down Belle's cheek when she entered the cottage after her fight with Gaston.  She brushed it away - tears. Oh no, absolutely not.  She would not cry over Gaston of all people. Especially not now.

How could she have been so foolish? So stupid? To even think that he could possibly ever change - she had been wrong, very wrong. He'd never cared about their friendship, never cared about what she wanted. It was only ever about what he wanted and he had only ever wanted to marry her. He'd never cared about her, period. Only himself.

When Gaston entered the tavern after leaving Belle in a fury he stormed in looking as angry as he had the first time she had rejected him, if not more. However, this time, it wasn't just her who he was angry with.

His face was red, his bright eyes narrowed, his hair a little messy from him running his hands through it, practically tearing it out, and his shaking hands were clenched into tight fists at his side. It quickly became apparent to the other tavern goers that something was wrong.

"I want everyone out," he announced. Silence befell the room. "Now!" They only stared. His voice lowered. "I need to have a moment alone with my father." He gestured to the portrait above the fireplace.

No one questioned him. They all stood and promptly left, leaving him alone as wished. He stood in the centre of the room fuming for a few minutes, staring up at the portrait of his father, painted permanently on the wall. That wretched portrait. He slipped his dagger from his belt and twirled it around in his hands thoughtfully, beginning to pace. Then he stopped and resumed staring at the portrait. After a few more moments of this he swung his arm back and whipped the dagger across the room so that it landed right in the chest of his father. Then he withdrew a pistol, a different one from his prized one, pointed it at the forehead of the portrait, and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot shattered the tense silence of the room. It did not however, shatter his rage. He still felt just as angry as before, if not more. He shot again, and again, and again.

Moments later, just as he was readying the gun to take yet another shot, Madame LeBlanc and LeFou thundered down the stairs and into the room, summoned by the gunshots.

"Gaston!" cried LeFou, he and Madame rushing to the flustered hunter's side.

"I was this close to hitting her," Gaston growled through gritted teeth. "This close to being like him." He swallowed hard, choking back his rage. "And what did she say to me? 'I will never marry you Gaston.'" The words were each a painful stab as he recalled them.

"Oh no, she figured it out, didn't she," said LeFou. He had warned Gaston, but the hunter had chosen to ignore his concerns, as usual, so it was only a matter of time. In fact, LeFou was surprised it was only happening now and had not happened sooner.

"But you didn't hurt her, you are better than him," Madame said, trying to sooth the enraged man before her, rubbing his back.

"Gaston, it's alright, take deep breaths. Put down the gun." Gingerly, LeFou reached up and gently slipped the gun from his friend's hand.

"No LeFou, it's not alright,"
Gaston hissed.

LeFou and Madame exchanged a worried glance. Then she put an arm around Gaston. "Come on, let's get you up to bed." She standing on one side of him and LeFou standing on the other, they slowly guided him up the stairs and to his room and into bed.

But he had hurt Belle. Maybe not in the same way his father had hurt his mother, but he had still hurt her.

Maybe she was right, as she so often was - perhaps he was a monster.

(Noooo Gaston you're not a monster! ☹️ these next few chapters will be shorter, but then they'll get longer again :) thanks so much for reading! Bye for now!)