Into the Woods

Summary: What if Gaston had rescued Belle from the wolves instead of the Beast? Gaston/Belle

Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast, Gaston, Belle, the castle, Villenueve, Maurice, etc. You get the idea. I also don't own the novelization by Elizabeth Rudnick, which I'm shamelessly appropriating for the first and second chapters.

A/N: I'm almost finished with my last Gaston/Belle story, Crazy Old Maurice. I want to give a big thank you to anyone who's following me from that story and a big hello to anyone reading my work for the first time.

Chapter 1: A Walk on the Wild Side

"Listen! Wolves! We must be getting close to the haunted castle!"

Sitting in the back of Gaston's carriage, Gaston and LeFou were startled by Maurice's shout. The three men had been making their way through the forest for quite some time. The rest of the crowd had turned back, happy to return to the warmth of the tavern, once Gaston made it clear he was going into the woods. And while the forest wasn't exactly picturesque, it wasn't nearly as menacing as Maurice's wild tavern tale had led Gaston to believe.

"Maurice, enough is enough," Gaston said, turning to look at the older man. The carriage ride had made his wild white hair even more disheveled and his eyes were whipping back and forth as he gazed around the forest desperately. "We have to turn back," Gaston added, not sure Maurice had even heard a word he said.

But apparently he had, because he quickly shook his head. "No! Look!" Maurice pointed up ahead.

Following the old man's finger, Gaston saw a tree on the side of the road. It was withered, its branches bent at odd angles its trunk smooth with age. Over the course of their journey, Maurice had been telling them all about how he had first found the enchanted castle. He had mentioned something about a tree that looked like a cane and a hidden path… Cocking his head to the side, Gaston narrowed his eyes. It sort of looked cane-like, but there was definitely no path behind it.

"That is the tree!" Maurice exclaimed, as if sensing Gaston's doubt. "I'm sure of it. Of course, it was downed by lightning at the time, but now it's been restored to an upright position. By magic, it seems."

Leaning over, LeFou tapped Gaston on the shoulder. "You really want to marry into this family?" he whispered, rolling his eyes.

Gaston knew the smaller man was teasing him, but LeFou had a point. Enough was enough. He had let Maurice lead them out there, but if they couldn't find Belle, what was the point? "I'm done playing this game of yours," Gaston snapped, stopping the carriage. Jumping down, he put his hands on his hips. "Where is Belle?"

"The Beast took her!" Maurice said again.

Gaston's eyes narrowed. He was trying very hard not to lose his temper, but the old man was making it difficult. "There are no such things as beasts, or talking teacups, or whatever." As he spoke, his voice grew louder and his hands began to clench and unclench at his sides. "But there are wolves, frostbite, and starvation."

Scrambling off the carriage, LeFou raced to his friend's side. "Deep breaths, Gaston," he said. "Deep breaths."

Gaston's jaw clenched and for a moment, it seemed a very good possibility that he was going to hit something. But then he took a deep breath, like LeFou had suggested. And another. And one more for good measure. "So," he started again when he was calmer, "Why don't we just turn around and go back to Villenueve? Belle's probably at home cooking up a lovely dinner."

"You think I've made all this up?" Maurice asked, seemingly unaware of how close Gaston was to breaking. He looked up at the large man in confusion. "If you didn't believe me, why did you offer to help?"

"Because I want to marry your daughter," Gaston said, with no attempt to hide his plan any longer. "Now let's go home."

"I told you! She's not at home, she's with the"-

Rage flooded over Gaston and he erupted. "If you say 'beast' one more time, I will feed you to the wolves!" he screamed, all his composure gone. He stalked over to Maurice and raised his fists.

LeFou watched his friend go dark. He knew he had to do something. "Stop," he cried, frantically trying to think of what to say next. When Gaston got angry, it was hard to pull him out of it. LeFou had really only seen him that way a few times- and it took a while to talk him down. Suddenly, LeFou knew exactly what to do. "Think happy thoughts," he said soothingly. "Go back to the war. Blood, explosions, more blood." As LeFou spoke, the red faded from Gaston's cheeks and his hands began to unclench. His eyes clouded over and he got lost in the memories of his glory days.

By the time LeFou finished speaking, Gaston was back in a good head space. "Please, forgive me," he said. "That's no way to talk to my future father-in-law, now is it?" He smiled at the old man. But the smile didn't reach Gaston's eyes.

That wasn't lost on Maurice. And neither was the fact that Gaston clearly had a dark side. "Captain," he said, backing up a step, "now that I've seen your true face, you'll never marry my daughter."

LeFou gulped. I wouldn't have said that if I were you, he thought. Gaston might take it badly and if that happens…

Gaston pulled back and hit Maurice. Hard. The old man sagged to the ground, unconscious.

You might just end up getting hit, LeFou finished his thought. He opened his mouth to try once again to calm down his friend, but it was too late. Gaston had given in to his rage and there was no pulling him out of it. Not now, at least."

"If Maurice won't give me his blessing," Gaston said as he picked up the unconscious man and put him inside the carriage, "then he is in my way. If something really did happen to Belle and she's somewhere in these woods, I'll have better luck tracking her without his rambling. There's no path behind the tree that looks like a cane. If I find her, she'll be so grateful, she'll ask me to get married."

LeFou was pretty sure she wouldn't, but he knew better than to argue with Gaston when he was in a certain mood.

"Take the old man home," Gaston said. "Get him out of his wet clothes and into bed. Hopefully when he wakes up this will all be a bad dream."

LeFou hurried to climb into the carriage's driver's seat as Gaston unhitched one of the horses, hunting rifle in hand. "What do I tell him when he wakes up?"

"Tell him he collapsed and we brought him home. Tell him any lie you want. Just don't let him out of your sight until I come back. If he gets lost and freezes to death, Belle will never forgive me."

"Uh, right," LeFou said, confused by this new concern for Maurice's welfare.

"What?" asked Gaston. "I just wanted to him to stop talking crazy and leading us around in circles. That doesn't mean I want to him to die alone in the woods. I'm not a monster."

"I'll make sure he gets home," LeFou spurred the horse to a trot before Gaston could change his mind.

"Crazy old Maurice," Gaston muttered as they rode away. He scoured the forest floor for tracks made by a single rider. He was sure Belle would have been on horseback if she came this way. He saw enough of a pattern to lead him on. He didn't expect to find her locked up by a beast in an enchanted castle in the middle of the forest, but he was in love with her. Maurice's crazy rantings had made him worry enough that he needed to assure himself of her safety before he could go home and fall asleep. If he went back now he'd only toss and turn until he could put eyes on her and know that she was safe.

Eventually he came to a fork in the road. One way led down the well-trodden path to the county market, where Maurice had probably been taking his latest music box. The other way was marred by gnarled trees and grasping roots. It didn't look at all inviting. "Of course you did," Gaston muttered, thinking this must have been the way Maurice had come when he had gotten lost. He heard people in Villenueve say that Maurice was a brilliant man, but all Gaston saw when he looked at him was a buffoon. He could hardly dress himself or find his way around a town where he had lived for twenty years. He felt sure that Maurice had taken the wrong path and gotten himself turned around. He doubted there was any veracity to the rest of his tale, but if there was, then he supposed Belle could have been grabbed by some bandit in the woods.

"The things I do for love," he sighed as he plodded along the obscured path. Suddenly he heard the howl of wolves and a woman's scream. Someone needed his help. It was hero time.