When the Petal Falls

Summary: Maurice works for Prince Adam at the castle to support his wife and young daughter. He is cursed with the rest of the castle when the Enchantress crashes the party, unable to return to his family. Soon after his wife succumbs to her sickness and passes away. Belle is placed in an orphanage for the next thirteen years, until she runs away in search of a father she barely remembers. She vows to find him and bring him home, but she gets more than she bargained for when she stumbles upon a lonely castle surrounded by winter.

A/N: I feel so terrible that this update took so long. I took a mini hiatus from fanfiction due to my hectic work schedule. Hopefully that will be sorted out now. Anyway, here we are. A little note about the story mentioned at the end of the chapter. Everything I found, I found on wikipedia, so if I got anything wrong, let me know so I can change it. Other than that, enjoy!

Chapter Ten

Gaston knew he was lost.

As he wiped the sweat from his brow, he scanned the dense patch of forest all around him and reluctantly admitted to himself that he had no clue where he was. He did not know the direction he ought to go if he wanted to return to Villeneuve. The prospect of returning to his pub was tempting, but every time he considered turning around he thought of Belle out here, alone.

Even though he'd only known her for a couple of days, Gaston had gotten the sense that she could take care of herself. He could easily picture her roaming the forest, armed with nothing but her own wit, and surviving. He admired her for it, but there were other elements in the woods that would prove difficult for her to survive. He'd heard the insistent howling of the wolves, and each time their voices pierced the air it sent shivers down his spine. Gaston was not a coward by any means, but it did not mean he was not cautious.

He knew the only thing that kept him going was the look on that Rouchard woman's face if he should return empty-handed. He knew she had to be waiting for him to fail so that she could gloat and say that she had been right about Belle all along. He refused to give her the satisfaction.

As the sun began to set below the horizon, Gaston reluctantly had to admit that he needed to give up for the night. He needed to seek shelter or else he would not be of use to anyone. The howling of the wolves grew distant, but he knew that would not last. As natural predators, they would not stop hunting until they found worthwhile prey. And humans, Gaston knew, were the ultimate prey.

He did not dare risk a fire, knowing it would only alert the wolves to his presence. Instead he found a large copse of trees and burrowed himself in as much as possible. It was not comfortable, but it offered the best cover he was likely to find. If he wanted to live to see tomorrow, it would have to do.

Wishing he could have been of more help to Belle when she'd come to him, he settled himself in for a long night.

When Gaston opened his eyes the following morning he felt more exhausted than he had when he'd laid down. It had not been a good night since his unease of the wolves did not allow himself to sleep fully. He took out a piece of bread for his pitiful breakfast and carried on, reassuring himself that he would find something more suitable on his way.

That proved difficult the farther he walked. There were few animals this deep in the woods, and those Gaston did find were frightened away at the smallest noise. They were undoubtedly wary of the wolves and any other predators that were lurking, and Gaston hardly blamed them for their fear, but that did not mean he was frustrated by the lack of good game.

His days passed in the same fashion. He would spend the day continuing on his journey, keeping his eyes peeled for anything he could use for food, then hunker down in the best shelter he could and slept with one eye open, cautious as always for the wolves that prowled the night.

Gaston quickly lost all track of time. He no longer knew how long he'd spent in the woods. More than once he'd convinced himself that he was lost and no longer knew the right way to get to the nearest town. It nearly sent him into a panic before he remembered he'd been a skilled tracker during his days in the army. He knew he was going the right way simply by keeping track of the direction of the sun. The nearest village to Villeneuve was due east, and that was the direction he was going.

By the time the town came into view Gaston knew he would look quite a sight. His clothes were filthy and torn in certain areas that he knew would make any mending impossible. He was covered from head to toe in dirt and grime. The townspeople would surely think him a homeless vagrant who had gotten lost in the woods, but he did not let himself worry too much about that. As long as he found Belle alive and in one piece, he would not care what anyone thought.

As he approached the simply wooden sign on the outskirts of the town, he learned that this town was called Arbois. Up until that point he'd always thought Villeneuve was the smallest town in France, but as he looked upon this new town he realized he'd been wrong.

As he crossed the border between the forest and Arbois, he was struck by the thought that he could go from one side of the village to the other in a hundred steps. The buildings were small and squat, and pushed so close together that he did not think he would fit in the small gaps between them. It was as though a giant had taken the town and pushed everything together.

Gaston pulled himself to his full height and walked into town with confidence, trying to look as though he belonged there. He noticed the townspeople he passed give him confused, disgusted looks, but did not let it bother him. He only had eyes for Belle. She had to be here somewhere.

He quickly decided that the best course of action would be to simply wander the town and look for her. Arbois was small enough that he would have to stumble upon her at some point.

As time wore on, however, he had to admit his current strategy was not working. Every building and street he passed held no sign of her.

"Hello, there," came an unexpected voice from behind him. Gaston jumped, then immediately cursed himself for it. He turned around and found a short, portly man behind him. He held out his arms in a gesture of surrender then chuckled. "Sorry. I did not mean to frighten you."

"No harm done," Gaston replied, putting as much joviality into his tone as possible. He needed this man not to walk away from him. He was the first townsman to look at him without revulsion. "You simply startled me."

"Can I buy you a drink? You look like you could use one."

Gaston regarded the man for a moment before finally nodding. "Thank you."

The man led him into a small square building that Gaston had passed more than once on his earlier exploration of the town. As they entered the pub Gaston could not help but feel pleased that his pub back in Villeneuve was bigger and busier. In fact, besides his companion and himself, there were only two other patrons. His companion led him to the bar and sat down on a stool in the center. Gaston sat down on his left. No sooner had he taken his seat did the bartender saunter over to them. His gaze passed over Gaston and landed on the other man.

"Robert! You're here early. You having the usual?"

Gaston's companion nodded then gestured to Gaston. "What are you having?"

Gaston ordered a pint, then watched as the bartender walked away to fill their orders.

"So what brings you out to Arbois? I don't think I've ever seen you before, even in passing."

"I'm from the village on the other side of the wood. Villeneuve. I hardly ever leave, due mostly to my business. I own the local tavern there," Gaston explained, noting that to his ear it sounded as though he were bragging to this other man. He tried to ignore the feeling as he continued. "I came because I seek a woman."

"I knew it," the man, Robert, cut in with the hint of a smirk on his face. "What other reason could there be for a man to brave those woods?"

"Not like that!" Gaston exclaimed, realizing his mistake. He hastened to explain. "She left a couple days ago, and I didn't exactly feel right about our parting. I was wondering whether you'd seen a young woman…"

He was interrupted once again, only this time it was by the bartender. He returned with two pints of ale. Robert took his but did not take a sip. Gaston took advantage of the interruption by downing half of his. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was. Water had been scarce in the forest.

Robert watched him expectantly when Gaston put down his mug a few seconds later and looked back at him. "You were asking about a woman?"

"Yes. She's young just a few months shy of eighteen. She has long brown hair and was last wearing a simple blue dress. Have you seen a young woman fitting that description?"

Robert shrugged then finally took a sip of his drink. When he put it down he said quietly, "There are quite a few young women fitting that description, but none of them are strangers. I know them all by sight. The only stranger to come out of those woods in the last couple months is you, my friend."

Gaston's heart sank. He downed the rest of his drink and tried not to let the new images that popped into this mind take over his nerves. He remembered suddenly how many howls he'd heard in the night, how dark the woods could get when the moon didn't shine brightly in the sky. How little sustenance he'd been able to find. And he was a hunter. There was no telling how Belle had fared. Hearing this stranger say that he had not seen anyone except Gaston emerge from the woods did not sit well with him.

"Then I'll be on my way," Gaston finally said. He stood up and dug around in his pocket for any spare coin, but his companion placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

"You won't be any good to the woman you seek when you are hungry and exhausted as you are. You'll do better to stay the night and go back into the woods tomorrow. Besides, it could be that she did come out of the woods and someone else saw her. It's not as though I keep watch on those trees at all times. Ask around. Maybe she's here after all. But you definitely should not go back as you are. You'd be easy pickings for those wolves."

For a long moment Gaston could only stare at the man. His greatest desire then and there was to slap him, but he knew there'd been no ill will in his words. If he went charging back into those woods in his current state, there was a good chance he would never make it back to Villeneuve alive. His instincts were raw, his reflexes dulled, and he could barely keep his eyes open. He longed for another drink, but he knew what he really needed was sleep. That and food. And Robert was right about another thing. Belle could indeed be somewhere in Arbois. Just because Gaston had yet to see her did not mean she wasn't there. Maybe she was simply waiting somewhere for Gaston to find her.

"Okay," he said after what felt like hours. "You're right. I won't go back."

Robert smiled and slapped him on the back. "That's wise, my friend. Get a hot meal and a good night's rest then go back out at first light. I'll even accompany you half the way. Two pairs of eyes are better than, after all."

Gaston thanked the man and followed him out of the pub and through the town. As Gaston made his way deeper into the town of Arbois he kept a watchful eye out for Belle, but there was no sign of her. He knew in his gut that she was not there, but the hopeful part of him refused to believe it. He wasn't yet ready to give up hope.

He followed the man into a large building that he only realized was an inn after he'd stepped inside. He thanked Robert then got himself a room. The moment he opened the door he collapsed on the bed and quickly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next couple of days were both the best and the worst of Maurice's life thus far.

After their conversation in her room the other night Belle had spent more and more time in his company, talking to him about things she'd noticed in the castle or about a peculiar thing she'd read in one of the many books she took out of the castle's library. Maurice was pleased that she sought him out, but also dreaded their daily conversations because they only left him with a growing amount of guilt.

Deep in his gut he knew that his separation from Belle was not his fault, but that knowledge did not stop him from hating himself every time he looked into her wide brown eyes. If he'd never taken the damned job as the castle's stable hand, he never would have been cursed in the first place.

He watched her every chance he could. He watched her read; watched her clean; watched her roam the castle grounds during the day. She loved to explore. Her sense of adventure was as strong as her mother's. So was her desire to soak up as much knowledge as she could. Celine's nose was never out of a book for long. It seemed she'd passed that trait down to Belle. His heart sank every time he remembered that conversation.

"Do you not remember her?"

"I don't remember much. She died when I was four."

Celine, his darling Celine, had passed away only a year after Maurice was cursed. He'd often consoled himself early on by telling himself that Belle was with her mother, and that they would be okay as long as they were together. How often had he said that to himself? Countless times. And yet he'd only fooled himself. Celine died a year into the curse. From that point on Belle had been doomed to the town orphanage.

He shuddered at the very thought. The place's reputation was not good. The matron mostly kept to herself, but that solitude extended to the kids in her care. They rarely left the place. The boys went to the schoolhouse during the day, but otherwise they did not leave. And the girls…what else did they have to do all day but chores? It broke his heart that that had been Belle's life for the past thirteen years. She hardly knew anything else.

"Monsieur?" Belle's soft voice cut through his musings. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Maurice tried smiling, but of course he couldn't. He doubted she even saw any facial features on what passed for his body these days.

Today found father and daughter in the library. Belle had taken the stack she'd already read back to the massive room and Maurice had entered as she'd been browsing the shelves for her newest selection. Maurice knew she was looking at the few spell books the Master carried in the castle. Belle was a smart girl. She must know that the castle was under a curse. Maurice was forbidden to speak of it, but he'd been spending the past few days trying to figure out ways to help her discover the truth on her own. The spell called for the Master falling in love with a girl and earning her love in return in his current state, but Maurice knew there had to be another way. Perhaps if Belle came upon the spell and could find a second way to break it, she would have her father back and the two of them could go their separate ways. Maurice wanted to put as much distance between them and Prince Adam as possible.

Of course, in order for that to happen, Maurice needed to tell Belle who he really was. The very thought was like jamming a knife into his heart. Just the idea of it sent a bundle of nerves straight through him. Belle had admitted to him that she preferred him to be dead. Any other explanation for his absence from her life would be too painful for her to bear.

"What are you looking for?" Maurice asked as he made his way into the library. "Maybe I can help."

The ghost of a smile passed over Belle's lips. "You'll only laugh."

"I won't," Maurice promised. "What is it?"

Belle's face flushed. "I'm looking for a romance. The Beast isn't fond of them, but a library of this size must have at least a few."

"You've been talking to the Master?" Maurice asked before he could help himself.

"Yes. I told him of my fondness for Shakespeare. We both love reading, which explains his collection." She gestured around the library. "I'm just not overly fond of stories with all action and little else. It seems that's all he prefers."

"Well," Maurice began then stopped himself. Did he dare bring up something from her childhood? He did not want her to reminisce about their family because he did not want to bring that overwhelming sadness back into her eyes. But if he could give her back a piece of her mother…of Celine…

"Yes?" Belle prompted after a moment of prolonged silence.

"If it's romance you want, I would recommend Roman de la Rose. Have you heard of it?"

Belle shook her head, but her face was eager and excited, so Maurice explained. "Someone I once loved very much was quite fond if it. The main character finds a garden and encounters many different people. I think you'd like it."

Maurice helped her find it as best he could, though most of the work fell to Belle. It did not take her too long to find it. When she did she eyed the cover reverently, almost as though she already knew that she would love it. She probably would; it was Celine's favorite story, after all.

Later that evening Maurice could not help but watch Belle curl up in her favorite spot in her room with the book in her lap. She devoured it. She couldn't turn the pages fast enough, and by the time she put the book down she had tears in her eyes. It reminded Maurice of Celine so much that he finally had to go back to his broom cupboard. The guilt was eating away at him.

He made a decision then and there. Starting tomorrow he would do all he could to help Belle find a way to break the curse without falling in love with the prince. If they could manage that, then he would tell her who he really was. If she knew before the spell broke, she would run away as far and fast as she could and leave them once again to their doom.

It was the only way solution he had to offer.