Robert Whiting In search of awesome

Gaston

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Gaston had always loved Belle.

His first memory of her was at a town faire. All the children crowded around the vendors who had arrived from out of town–Gaston included. At the age of 8, he already outpaced his peers in height and strength, so he stood at the front of the crowd.

He couldn’t even remember what the vender had or why it was such a big deal to their little provincial town. What he did remember was that someone had shoved him from behind. He whipped around and grabbed the perpetrator by the collar, but a brilliant blue dress caught his eye.

On the other side of the square, under the tree, on the only patch of grass in the middle of town, a little girl spun in circles with her arms wide. She grinned up at the tree as she spun, and she was the most beautiful girl Gaston had ever seen.

He didn’t even care when he learned that she was the daughter of crazy old Maurice.


Over the years, he struggled to reconcile the driving love he had for her and the constant whispers and jokes that came from his friends at Maurice and Belle’s expense.

He excelled as a hunter, and he slowly separated himself from his peers–above them. He built a powerful persona to counter the private life that he led when he was alone.

When he was alone, Gaston practiced his songs of devotion to Belle and wrote poetry describing how he planned to win her heart. In the cover of darkness, he would deliver choice meats to their cottage. He took it apon himself to watch over her and her crazed aging father. From the shadows. For now.


Then one night Maurice burst into the tavern with news that siezed Gaston’s heart. He couldn’t believe that his darling had been captured by a beast living in the abandoned castle.

It was beyond his worst fears.

He was only a hunter. What could he do in the face of such a beast? He ran outside, away from the chatter and laughing faces and wept by the tree in the middle of the square.

“You love her, don’t you?” A quiet voice drifted from the branches above.

Gaston startled and looked up in to the branches. “Who are you? Show yourself.”

A pretty young girl with pure white hair jumped down, smoothed her dress, and looked Gaston in the eye. “I am Roux, and you are the gallant knight who is going to save the girl from the beast that lives in the castle.”

Emotions flooded through Gaston’s veins, and he didn’t know whether to laugh, weep, or scream. Why was this town so full of crazy people?

Roux seemed to take his reaction as a sign to continue. She reached into her sleeve and produced a small vial, “You cannot harm the beast, but if you put three drops of this on his fur, he will go into a deep sleep. It will be long enough for you to rescue the girl you love. Have courage, gather the townsfolk–they will follow you! Rescue your girl and take her far way.”

Then, before his very eyes, Roux transformed into a hunched old woman, and she shuffled off into the darkness.

With the flask in hand, he retrieved his gun and returned to the tavern. He would rally the town and save Belle. Then she would finally understand his devotion to her, and they could ride off into a happily ever after.


The witch <= Death of Maurice => The known story