slippedhalo
author, medium, witch
- Joined
- May 11, 2006
- Posts
- 16,007
She sat upon the edge of the water fountain just across from the church, book in her lap, reading voraciously, ignoring the odd stares of the towns-people as they passed who all felt that learning had spoilt her beauty by making her argumentative, dreamy and difficult. Gaston was nearby, going on about how she could do so much better for herself if she would only marry him. After all, how could she possibly do better than him? He was the best looking, most talented, most wealthy bachelor below the age of thirty in their town.
She looked up from her book only having half heard Gaston's most recent monologue of vanity and she smiled dreamily, "What makes you think I plan on finding my husband here in this town?"
"Oh, so you imagine you'll leave this place? Tell me, nieve little girl, just where to you think you'll go?" asked Gaston, bristling with the insult that, yet again, Belle was ignoring his obvious lead-up to a proposal.
Belle shrugged, "Oh, I don't know, I just...wish I could...have a reason to go on an adventure. Leave this place, even if only for a little while. I just don't think I belong here." she explained.
But, Gaston had stopped listening, he was watching his reflection in the water and shook his head in frustration. "Someday, Belle, I'll have given up on you. Then, you'll have no one left to marry, you'll be an old maid with nothing but your foolish dreams and silly books to keep you company." he said, rising to walk away.
Belle didn't know how to reply. She simply watched him go. Maybe he was right. But, she'd rather be alone with a book and her pride than have to serve as cook, maid and whore to Gaston and she knew to him that was all a wife was meant to be. Love had nothing to do with his proposal. It was for him all about how attractive a couple they would make and what beautiful children she could produce for him. He wanted strong strapping boys to take out hunting and teach about beer. For this, Belle was simply a means to an end. She would rather die alone.
Belle had always imagined a true companionship in a marriage could be possible if one person valued the spirit and intellect of the other. She would happily service her husband if she felt he was a good man, and who commanded respect with the thoughtful and pasionate way he lived his life, not simply because he told her to. A small part of her wondered what it would be like to be dominated by a man like Gaston...but, no, he was far too conceited and cruel. She'd be treated worse than his dogs if she were his wife. But, she imagined there would be someone out there who could be firm and dominant in the way she found enticing, yet never too cruel or disrespectful of Belle's nature, instead, encouraging and proud of her...
She looked around at the passersby, yet again convinced this man she imagined as her perfect fit was certainly no inhabitant of the sleepy little town she lived in.
With a sigh, she rose and carried her book to her small cottage on the edge of the town, just bordering on the forest. Her father had gone off to take his new invention to the fair in the next county and she imagined that he should be back soon. He had gone over a week ago and sent no word about how his invention was faring. She was beginning to grow a little concerned.
It was when she saw their horse, Felipe coming running from the woods that Belle felt a cold chill run through her. Papa had taken Felipe with him yet here was Felipe with nothing but a bit of torn fabric from papa's coat attatched to his bridle. Belle rose unfemininely upon Felipe's back and spurred him to take her to where he'd left papa. The frightened horse, a little comforted by her familiar presence galloped into the darkened woods and continued on for over three hours. It was as they turned to a path an unknown direction to Belle that she saw where her father must be. A large castle loomed over the forest in twilight. It was dark inside and appeared abandoned and ill kept. Felipe seemed too spooked to even go further than the gated entrance and Belle had to force the horse to stand still long enough so she could tie him to the outside of it before venturing in.
The heavy stone front door was ajar and she peeked her head inside calling, "Hello? Helloooo?" but there was no answer from the darkness beyond. Belle took a step inside, if at least to get out of the winter's cold for a few minutes and collect her thoughts but as she walked carefully into the lobby the door shut behind her and she turned, gasping, prepared to see an angry house servant or resident to have to explain her trespass to. But...there was no one around. Inexplicably, the door had shut on it's own. Belle felt a new chill that had nothing to do with the cold night air.
Tentatively, Belle began to explore the seemingly abandoned castle, calling out periodically in the hope that her father was hiding from the growing cold in here and Felipe had perhaps simply been naughty and run off from him. But, as she walked the staircase and it wound higher and higher, up to a tower her heart felt as if it were beating in her throat and she felt an ominous sensation of dread. Being unsuperstitious, Belle pushed onward, chiding herself for her girlish foolishness and then heard a cough, then another, heart-wrenchingly unhealthy, like pneumonia or bronchitus. It was her father's cough, Belle was certain of it. She followed the sound to find her father lying on a straw pallet in a small tower room cordoned off from the hallway she stood in by a door of iron bars with an enormous lock keeping the opening hopelessly shut. "Papa!" she called out, wishing she could reach through the bars and pull the frail old man out. "Papa, what happened to you?"
He looked startled to see her and worried for her instantly, 'Belle! What are you doing? You shouldn't have come here. Leave now, while you still can!"
"No, papa, I won't leave. I'm going to get you out." she cried, tears springing to her eyes, "You're ill. Oh, poor papa. I'll get you out somehow."
"No, Belle...He can't see you here. I don't want himt o hurt you." argued her father, looking at something past her in wide-eyed terror.
"Who?" she asked, feeling the sense of dread again and suddenly very afraid to turn around and find out what could possibly be making her father so very afraid.
She looked up from her book only having half heard Gaston's most recent monologue of vanity and she smiled dreamily, "What makes you think I plan on finding my husband here in this town?"
"Oh, so you imagine you'll leave this place? Tell me, nieve little girl, just where to you think you'll go?" asked Gaston, bristling with the insult that, yet again, Belle was ignoring his obvious lead-up to a proposal.
Belle shrugged, "Oh, I don't know, I just...wish I could...have a reason to go on an adventure. Leave this place, even if only for a little while. I just don't think I belong here." she explained.
But, Gaston had stopped listening, he was watching his reflection in the water and shook his head in frustration. "Someday, Belle, I'll have given up on you. Then, you'll have no one left to marry, you'll be an old maid with nothing but your foolish dreams and silly books to keep you company." he said, rising to walk away.
Belle didn't know how to reply. She simply watched him go. Maybe he was right. But, she'd rather be alone with a book and her pride than have to serve as cook, maid and whore to Gaston and she knew to him that was all a wife was meant to be. Love had nothing to do with his proposal. It was for him all about how attractive a couple they would make and what beautiful children she could produce for him. He wanted strong strapping boys to take out hunting and teach about beer. For this, Belle was simply a means to an end. She would rather die alone.
Belle had always imagined a true companionship in a marriage could be possible if one person valued the spirit and intellect of the other. She would happily service her husband if she felt he was a good man, and who commanded respect with the thoughtful and pasionate way he lived his life, not simply because he told her to. A small part of her wondered what it would be like to be dominated by a man like Gaston...but, no, he was far too conceited and cruel. She'd be treated worse than his dogs if she were his wife. But, she imagined there would be someone out there who could be firm and dominant in the way she found enticing, yet never too cruel or disrespectful of Belle's nature, instead, encouraging and proud of her...
She looked around at the passersby, yet again convinced this man she imagined as her perfect fit was certainly no inhabitant of the sleepy little town she lived in.
With a sigh, she rose and carried her book to her small cottage on the edge of the town, just bordering on the forest. Her father had gone off to take his new invention to the fair in the next county and she imagined that he should be back soon. He had gone over a week ago and sent no word about how his invention was faring. She was beginning to grow a little concerned.
It was when she saw their horse, Felipe coming running from the woods that Belle felt a cold chill run through her. Papa had taken Felipe with him yet here was Felipe with nothing but a bit of torn fabric from papa's coat attatched to his bridle. Belle rose unfemininely upon Felipe's back and spurred him to take her to where he'd left papa. The frightened horse, a little comforted by her familiar presence galloped into the darkened woods and continued on for over three hours. It was as they turned to a path an unknown direction to Belle that she saw where her father must be. A large castle loomed over the forest in twilight. It was dark inside and appeared abandoned and ill kept. Felipe seemed too spooked to even go further than the gated entrance and Belle had to force the horse to stand still long enough so she could tie him to the outside of it before venturing in.
The heavy stone front door was ajar and she peeked her head inside calling, "Hello? Helloooo?" but there was no answer from the darkness beyond. Belle took a step inside, if at least to get out of the winter's cold for a few minutes and collect her thoughts but as she walked carefully into the lobby the door shut behind her and she turned, gasping, prepared to see an angry house servant or resident to have to explain her trespass to. But...there was no one around. Inexplicably, the door had shut on it's own. Belle felt a new chill that had nothing to do with the cold night air.
Tentatively, Belle began to explore the seemingly abandoned castle, calling out periodically in the hope that her father was hiding from the growing cold in here and Felipe had perhaps simply been naughty and run off from him. But, as she walked the staircase and it wound higher and higher, up to a tower her heart felt as if it were beating in her throat and she felt an ominous sensation of dread. Being unsuperstitious, Belle pushed onward, chiding herself for her girlish foolishness and then heard a cough, then another, heart-wrenchingly unhealthy, like pneumonia or bronchitus. It was her father's cough, Belle was certain of it. She followed the sound to find her father lying on a straw pallet in a small tower room cordoned off from the hallway she stood in by a door of iron bars with an enormous lock keeping the opening hopelessly shut. "Papa!" she called out, wishing she could reach through the bars and pull the frail old man out. "Papa, what happened to you?"
He looked startled to see her and worried for her instantly, 'Belle! What are you doing? You shouldn't have come here. Leave now, while you still can!"
"No, papa, I won't leave. I'm going to get you out." she cried, tears springing to her eyes, "You're ill. Oh, poor papa. I'll get you out somehow."
"No, Belle...He can't see you here. I don't want himt o hurt you." argued her father, looking at something past her in wide-eyed terror.
"Who?" she asked, feeling the sense of dread again and suddenly very afraid to turn around and find out what could possibly be making her father so very afraid.
