Gaston and Belle rode throughout the forest, taking well-lit, peaceful paths with Gaston leading the way, knowing them by heart. It began as a slow ride, but soon picked up the pace into what seemed like a race to them but without a finish line. Gaston loves the competition and couldn't believe that she raced past his horse, them both eventually stopping at a clearing near a small stream.

Gaston opens one of the bags attached to his saddle and pulls out a large, red, floral quilt for them to sit and relax on. He lays it down for them and she sits, noticing him removing a small basket that was tied to one of the saddle's handles.

"Belle," Gaston began and sat down. "I realize that I never asked, but what were you doing out in those woods that night?" He paused, noticing how Belle was staring at him. "I mean your father was the reason I went searching for you. He… Came into the tavern, raving about how some 'Beast' had locked you away in a dungeon. It didn't make any sense and I laughed him off. But once I saw you weren't home, that's when I thought I should go search for you. And then I found you surrounded by that pack of wolves… Why were you out there alone so late at night in the cold?"

Belle wasn't sure how to answer. She didn't want to look as though she's gone completely mad by telling him about how she was trapped in a magical castle with a talking candle and teapot. "I…" she paused, conflicted. She actually has potential for something good in her life and is hesitant if she should risk it. Just go for it. He just might believe you. "It's true."

Gaston stops and stares at her, unsure of what to say or think. He's concerned for her, that maybe she's suffered from some sort of traumatic experience. It's impossible. There are no Beasts in dungeons. From the beasts that I've seen, none of them are able to do such a thing. "What? Belle, that's crazy."

"I know, believe me. I thought I was going mad from what I saw in that castle," she glances down at the grass, noticing a few leaves grazing the blades from the light breeze. "He took my father as his prisoner for life and I decided to take his place. And I-" Belle stops, knowing that if she goes into detail, he would suggest she see someone who would tell her that she was hallucinating it all. "It doesn't matter anymore, he let me go." Belle is starting to get worried. She starting to sound like she belongs in the 'Asylum de Loons'.

"Belle, maybe from being out in the cold for so long, you could have seen some things that don't make any sense. I remember one night when I was hunting, I was in the cold for too long and I started to see things that are impossible."

Belle can tell that Gaston is attempting to make sense of what appears to be insanity. She feels for him and sees that he's trying to help her. It's hard for him to understand and he could think that she can't tell the difference between fiction and reality. She looks to the stream and notices a doe with her fawn drinking from the other side of the bank.

Gaston notices her eyes locking away from him and he follows her glance and sees them. "Beautiful, aren't they?" Gaston comments.

"I thought you hunted them," Belle replies, still fixated on the two. "I remember once you told me about how you use antlers in all of your decorating."

"I don't hunt entirely for sport, Belle, I hunt for food mostly," he pauses when she turns her head and meets his eyes. "The reason I decorate with antlers is because I keep them up as trophies; I can't eat them and I don't like just getting rid of them." She turns her head back to seeing the pair lifting their heads from the stream, the doe and her locking gazes. "I don't even go after the females or the younger ones if it makes you feel better. The bucks are the ones that have the good meat."

"My, what a guy," Belle comments patronizingly.

Gaston actually notices the haughty tone in her voice. "Belle. You have your own animals; how are eating eggs different from eating venison?"

The doe and her fawn turn and walk back into the forest together. Belle looks away when she can't see them anymore, surprised by Gaston's question. "I suppose you're right. I just see animals as beautiful and peaceful creatures…" She pauses, and makes a soft chuckle. "I was a bit hypocritical, I mean I had some beef ragout just recently."

Being in a clearing of the forest reminds Belle of her short time at the Beast's castle. She looks around the beautifully green scenery, remembering how during her time there, the forest was so dark and gloomy. The clear difference reminds her that she doesn't miss being there. But the other inhabitants were all so nice to her, and even told her that he's not as terrible as he appears. I know that Madame Garderobe said I should give him a chance, but I saw that he was just as frightening and cruel on the inside as he was on the outside. Belle thought. She knew that she couldn't go back there, no matter how nice they were to her, the Beast was too terrible. Besides, he told her to get out, what else was she supposed to do?

Gaston notices her in deep thought, so he opens the basket and starts to remove clothed items. He unwraps a baguette, a few different cheeses, and some fruit. He stands up, taking his canteen and hers and sits back down. He then unwraps the fabric to reveal a bottle of red wine and removes the cork with his bare hand. Belle is taken out of her trance by the startling pop, turning her head to see him admiring the sweet aroma emulating from the bottle.

"I like to think I'm a romantic at times," Gaston chuckled when he noticed Belle's surprised look. The wine wasn't even his idea; it was one of the women at the tavern that assisted him in some parts of his plan.

"I just didn't think you drank wine," Belle commented.

"I prefer beer, but I pair wine with the right occasion."

Gaston noticed that Belle seemed to still be annoyed. He began to pour two wine glasses for them.

"Here, I'll tell you about why I hunt since you are so interested." Belle turns her body to where she's sitting on the quilt with crossed legs, taking a small cube of cheese in one hand and the glass of wine Gaston handed her. He took a sip and then grabbed some bread. "When I was younger, my father would take me on weekly hunting trips. On our first trip, he noticed that I was a natural so he insisted we go often so we could sell what we killed at the market, that's when he decided that I wouldn't go to school. And I truly was a natural, I have been told that no one shoots like me," Gaston paused to think more about the perks of himself but noticed Belle's expression change back to annoyance. "But about a year later, my father fell ill and died," he continued. "It was just me and my mother and she was so sad. I had nothing else except for hunting; no education, no other family, nothing. So I took over and cared for her; I hunted every day, set up my own shop to sell the hide and meats to make money to support us. Making money wasn't the only reason I hunted … It reminded me of being with my father again." Gaston poured glasses for both of them. "Then I started to enter in competitions during my free time and made even more money and won trophies. I made so much money for us that my mother was set for the rest of her life. So I then spent all of my time entering myself into competitions and winning. I just kept on winning and it felt so great. I had so many trophies, I moved them all into the tavern," Gaston cocks his head back in laughter. "My mother was so happy that I found something I loved to do."

Belle didn't realize that Gaston had actual reasons for doing what he did. She only assumed that he was just always like this because of his need for glory and attention.

"My mother didn't teach me anything because I was so busy with the shop and competitions. She didn't know how to read or write so she never taught me. When I was younger and she did read to me, it was a few picture books and she would make up the story. She didn't tell me how to talk to women or what to do when I found one that I wanted. That's why I acted the way I did when I asked you to marry me."

Belle was taken aback by how much he shared with her. She assumed that his life was perfect and everything was handed to him, which was why he tried to take whatever he wanted for himself. She never would have guessed that Gaston had such a tragic childhood. "I'm sorry you were forced into that situation when you were so young. I know what it's like to lose a parent; I lost my mother when I was young." Belle didn't know if she should challenge what Gaston said about asking for hand in marriage when he clearly demanded it. She decided. "You didn't ask, Gaston. You told me to marry you."

"I know and I'm sorry for the way I treated you when I was proposing. I picked a bad way to tell you about what I thought our lives would be like together."

"You definitely picked the wrong way to show me," Belle laughed a little and sipped some of her wine. They both sat back, sipping their wine and taking small bites of the assorted snacks, watching as their horses drink from the stream.

Guys don't hate me for not updating in so long! I've been going through a lot of crap with my family and my writer's block. And yes I know my grammar is off, Gaston doesn't know correct grammar