𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃 by the window. It had become a habit of hers as of late. Her conflict with Celine had yet to actually be absolved, but she had yet to realize there was still a problem to begin with. The girl was young and confident in her personality, but she was not rebellious when it came to her mother. However, Althea couldn't help but doubt the lies she continued to tell herself.

She sighed as the sky grew dark and her daughter had yet to make her appearance. A couple of weeks had passed since the initial argument, and Celine had grown uncharacteristically distant. The girl would leave early in the morning and return late at night, and the only evidence of such would be a misplaced object around the fireplace or a used dish in the sink.

Althea had no idea where her daughter ran off to, but she trusted her enough to believe Celine would listen to her mother's instructions. How wrong she was. If only she caught on just a little bit quicker that her daughter had continued to explore that cursed place, perhaps she could have dealt with the issue before she walked down the path that did not provide a way back.

The last remnants of pink in the sky were replaced with a deep purple hue. If she hadn't been so worried, Althea might have taken notice and admired the scenery.

She released another sigh and finally gave up, stepping outside to set up the lantern so that her daughter might be able to find her way home. However, she stopped herself as she caught a glimpse of a figure moving in the shadows. She lifted the lantern higher in the air to force the shadows to retreat.

"Who's there?"

The reply to her question was delayed, but also silent as the rider lifted his own lantern up high enough to reveal his face. Althea's lips pursed into a frown of disapproval as Gaston dismounted his horse and now stood just a few feet away.

"Good evening, Althea."

"What do you want?" Althea asked, simply trying to get to the root of the problem while avoiding all formalities that she might attempt with someone more likeable.

"Is it too much to believe that perhaps I came to visit out of the kindness of my heart?" Gaston asked, plastering the falsest smile possible on his face.

Althea's frown remained.

He sighed, dropping the charade. "Is Celine here?"

"What do you want with my daughter?" Althea asked slowly, cautious for the answer that might come. However, her accusation that followed was quick and sharp, "I thought you finished using my daughter in your pursuit of the bookworm?"

"Belle?"

Althea remained stoic. Her expression didn't waver, implying that the hunter had guessed correctly. As Gaston shook his head, she raised a single brow, now confused by his intentions.

"I thought I knew what I wanted," Gaston explained, stepping closer as if it would help his case, "But then I realized I'd lost true beauty—"

"I'm going to stop you," Althea interrupted, holding out a hand to distance herself. "Allow me to make myself clear, Gaston LeGume. I have no intention of allowing you near my daughter ever again. You're manipulative and have no regard for anyone other than yourself. You lack common human decency. What fool would I be to allow a demon to taint mon ange?"

"I'm not a demon or some evil spirit." A humbled look crossed Gaston's face as he fell to his knees. "I am but a man. A man who's realized he's made an incredible mistake. Now I come here to beg for your forgiveness and request either a blessing for your daughter's hand in marriage or a cure for this curse of love that fate so cruelly cast on my heart."

Althea turned her nose in the air as she looked away. "You have no heart Gaston."

He shook his head and snatched her hand before placing it against his chest. His heart thumped against his ribcage to prove the exact opposite. It was more than that though. It's been said that the eyes were the window to the human soul, and she'd never known anything to be more true in the case of love. The boy was head-over-heels in love with her daughter, that much she could not deny.

"You feel it." Gaston slowly released her hand and rose to his feet.

"You speak the truth," Althea admitted her agreement. "However, I do not speak for my daughter's heart, the heart you struck with one of your arrows, hunter. But unlike Cupid, your weapon had the opposite effect and pushed the girl away. You do not deserve her."

"I know that," Gaston desperately stepped forward as Althea turned to close her door in his face. His brute strength was the only thing that kept the piece of wood from ending the conversation. "But I'm the only one that can protect her."

Althea's eyes hardened. "I can protect my daughter."

"But who will protect her when you are gone?"

Althea dropped her defenses and lowered her hands from the door, an action that Gaston quickly took advantage of. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, now within the confines of the de Fayette home without invitation. He'd found her weak spot, a skill he'd honed over the years as a hunter studying his prey. In his eyes, this situation was no different than the others.

"You are not as young as you once were, Althea." Gaston moved the old woman across the room and sat her down in a chair at the fireplace. "Celine's a bright girl, but when it comes to the ways of the world... it will eat her alive."

"I've tried to help her understand that without changing who she is," Althea murmured under her breath, running her fingers through her hair. "The world is a dark place that has always tried to snuff out her light."

Gaston didn't quite understand what she meant, but he nodded his head. "I can keep her safe, Althea. With a man of my reputation at her side, all rumors of the Villenueve Witch will simply vanish."

"You can make that happen?" Althea remained skeptical as she lifted her head from her hands.

"Madame," Gaston chuckled, "I'm the most powerful man in town. Perhaps the only other person that might be able to protect her better than myself would be the King of France."

"I fear that may be the truth," Althea inaudibly muttered, lifting her hand to cover her mouth. She took a deep breath and regained her composure. "Monsieur LeGume... if you can convince Celine to offer you another chance to prove your worth, then you have my blessing for her hand in marriage."

Gaston's lips curved into a twisted smirk as he immediately accepted the challenge. "Merci et bonne nuit, Madame."

He bowed with respect before walking toward the door. Althea cautiously followed after him, but paused. "Wait... I thought you came to see Celine."

"She isn't here," Gaston replied, knowing despite not being told. "There is a reason why I was so insistent on entering. My goal was to speak with Celine herself, but I suppose I shall have to wait for another time when she is home."

Althea slowly nodded her head, turning to glance over her shoulder toward the fire that served as a reminder of her momentary weakness. Oh, how he reminded her of another man she knew, once upon a time. However, as she lifted her eyes to see him off, he'd already vanished into the thickening fog from the moisture of the evening that followed the unpredictable weather that couldn't determine whether it wished to rain or snow.

And so... the sky released both. Hopefully, Celine didn't have a similar idea in mind that she would continue to live this double life: the life of a free-flowing artist and the life of a pleasing daughter. It just wasn't the way that the world worked. She was a girl ahead of her time, an Angel amongst men, but for her own safety, Althea might have to clip her wings to hide her treasure before it was ravished.

She released a quiet sigh as she closed the door and slowly slumped to the ground. She couldn't hide from man any longer... the only way to keep her angel safe was to make her one of them.

———— 𖥸 ————

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄 into the air the following morning. Gaston paid no attention to the beautiful sky as his own thoughts kept him distracted. It wasn't until he reached the center of town that he picked up his head from the cobblestone road.

LeFou extended his arms and gestured to the decorations that a few townsfolk finished preparing. "Ta da!"

Gaston dismissed him with a simple wave of his hand. "Very nice, LeFou."

LeFou frowned, but he wasn't deterred from his mission to lift the hunter's spirits. "Heh! Oh boy! Belle's gonna get the surprise of her life, huh, Gaston?"

"Yes... Belle..." Gaston murmured realizing he hadn't revealed the change of plans to his shorter friend.

"You're having second guesses?" LeFou asked almost too eagerly.

"I'm beginning to think you were right, LeFou," Gaston admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I was? About what?" LeFou asked in confusion, scratching the top of his head with a finger.

"I... I..." Gaston found it suddenly difficult to find the words to explain the feelings he normally wasn't abashed by.

LeFou gasped with excitement, more energetic about the concept of real love itself than his own desire for the hunter. "You fell for the angel!"

Gaston clapped a hand over LeFou's mouth. "Not so loud. I still have yet to win her affections."

"What's to win?" LeFou questioned. "The entire tavern saw how she looked at you while the two of you danced."

"I fear I made more than one mistake that evening, my friend." Gaston sighed. "Now I might just be too late."

LeFou scoffed. "What girl would be crazy enough to turn down a proposal from you?"

"Right..." Gaston's hand subconsciously drifted to the pouch attached to his belt. His fingers drifted to the ring and began to play with it as his gaze grew distant.

LeFou caught on quicker than anyone ever gave him credit for, and released a nervous chuckle. "Surely she wouldn't turn you down twice?"

"I... I wouldn't be so sure." Gaston absently shook his head as he pulled the ring from the pouch and held it up in front of his eyes. "Perhaps the jewel wasn't large enough."

"I'm not quite sure she's the material type, Gaston," LeFou suggested. "She's an artist, entranced by words and actions that display the beauty of the world around her and those that live in it."

"Was that Descartes?" Gaston raised an eyebrow.

"No," LeFou shook his head, "but I'm genuinely surprised you know the name."

"I'm not just a decorated war hero, LeFou," Gaston scoffed. "I was a strategist. As a soldier I was required to use my mind, I just prefer the beauty of bloodshed and passion as opposed to a dull room filled with books."

"There!" LeFou exclaimed, startling Gaston by the sudden change of tone. "That's what you need to show her!"

"You've lost me again, LeFou, and not for the first time," Gaston huffed, losing his patience with the conversation.

"Show her a more sensitive side to the man behind the hero," LeFou encouraged. "Women love to see vulnerability along with strength, especially the intellectual ones. You need to show her that you're more than your perfectly chiseled physique... She wants to know that you have the ability to think about things on a deeper, more meaningful level."

"And how do I do that?" Gaston crossed his arms, expectantly waiting on an answer.

"Find something that she's passionate about," LeFou suggested. "Prove that you care through the way that she communicates."

Gaston's eyes narrowed and his brows rose. It was clear he'd either stopped listening or LeFou had lost him somewhere in the middle of the conversation.

LeFou sighed. "We've got a lot of work to do if we're ever going to get that ring around the angel's finger."

"So that means you'll aid me in my pursuit?" Gaston asked.

LeFou slowly nodded his head with a second sigh. "Yes, but think of it less like a chase and more like a waltz."

"A waltz?" Gaston questioned, skeptically.

LeFou nodded his head again, quicker and with more confidence. "A waltz. A dance that slows and quickens and the beating of your hearts is the only thing that truly matters."

"Oh, LeFou. Ever the romantic." Gaston chuckled and slapped him on the back. "However, I see no difference between this waltz and the average hunt: and no prey has ever been able to evade my grasp for long."

The silence that followed was almost like Gaston was asking for confirmation. LeFou released a third, tired sigh as he completely gave up. A false smile formed on his face as he was unable to bring himself to tear down his friend's hope. "You never miss a shot, Gaston. You're the greatest hunter in the world."

Gaston took a deep breath of satisfaction. "I know."

Something had changed, but the mission was ultimately the same. The end goal and reason might have been different, but one way or another Gaston would be mounting a pair of wings to his wall as his latest trophy. He desired her more than he had wanted anything else ever before in his life. Perhaps the rumors of the Villeneuve Witch were more than whispers... maybe he really was caught under her spell. Either way, he was determined to make the town's angel his. There were many reasons why he'd chosen to pursue her, but perhaps love was the most dangerous excuse that would come.

So then, is love but another curse or the cure to the monstrosity concealed within man?