inverted reflection [Beauty and the Beast Reversal AU 1/?]
Title: inverted reflection [1/?]
Fandom: Beauty and the Beast (animated Disney 1991 version)
Summary: A common boy can't escape his fate. (Selective Role Reversal AU of the Animated Disney Film)
Previous: prologue
Disclaimer: I don't Beauty and the Beast or anything related to it.
Ch. 1
"Maman…Maman…Maman, are you there…are you all right?..."
The boy felt as if he were cooling off from a burn that still stung all over his body. It was the cold, surely, the blizzard had come on so quickly, and then Phillipe had gotten trapped along with their cart and the wolves--
"Maman," he whimpered, his voice hoarse and unwieldy.
"I'm here, Alphonse," she finally said, though her voice sounded very distant--but there was her hand, cool and comforting on his forehead, ruffling his hair. "Everything's all right."
But her voice shook.
Alphonse tried to raise his head, his mother's hand slipped, to his nose--he stared at it, her fingers splayed on something flat, extending from his face.
His nose wasn't that big or long.
His eyes went to his mother. Long, dark, curly hair framing her green eyes, so often worn these days--horrified now....
Alphonse shuffled around, moving his hand up to--the boy took a good look at it.
It was a clawed paw. Couldn't be his. But when he made to wiggle his fingers slowly, those thick digits responded.
"Alphonse...."
The concern in his mother's voice got to him--adrenaline rushing everywhere, Alphonse reared back. (He vaguely noticed they were in an unfamiliar tent, and dimly heard the sounds of strangers, men outside, some neighing horses.) Mistake, as he was now rapidly denying the very odd sensation of something dragging from his behind, how his arms remained on the floor and he was backpedalling on all fours.
The boy's eyes fell on a water bowl with a cloth soaking in it. He immediately tore the cloth out and looked at the water's reflection in it--that too was a mistake, for he screamed. Tried to block out from his mind how it sounded more like a roar, something beastly but no less emotional). He'd made such an animal noise of fear seconds after he'd got past his still blue eyes (your father's eyes, Maman had said, fondly--now grieving and bitter since his death weeks ago) and saw the rest of his--oh god, it couldn't be him--it couldn't--what had he--?
Immediately his mother enveloped him in a crushing hug. Stiff with shock, he soon trembled with it and curled himself in his mother's arms. Alphonse tried to make himself as small as possible, tried to ignore the way his tail curled, tried very hard to keep breathing (but not to cry).
###
"Alphonse, stop that," Evelyn ordered her son, catching him pulling at his bandages with his--god, his fangs and claws.
Her transformed boy obeyed with a dejected look, curling back up on his pallet, closing his eyes. Evelyn wished he wouldn't, his eyes (Adam's sky blue, and her heart throbbed) were the only thing completely familiar. Even her child's voice didn't sound quite the same.
Trying to keep calm, but distantly realizing she just sounded cold, Evelyn asked, "Do you remember how you were injured?"
His eyes didn't snap open to look at her, like she hoped. Alphonse turned away, muffling into his pallet, "No--just that you were pinned under the cart--"
Evelyn closed her eyes finally, fighting back the urge to scream at him, I told you to run....
"--and I was trying to keep the wolves away from you--"
With a stick, no less, you stupid boy, you tried to fight off wolves with a damned twig
"--and I--I--" Then Alphonse slowly sat up, and Evelyn watched her son's new profile: snout and horns and dog-like ears, his back slightly hunched, tufts of dark brown fur--fur all over, every inch…but his eyes were the same, yet dazed and glassy, with something dawning in them.
"--I made a wish, Maman. I--I didn't want to lose you like Father--I'd, I'd do anything--"
The boy looked down at his new claws, still staring at them as if they were a deformity, some infection.
Evelyn didn't know what her boy was getting at. Simply chalked it up to shock. She knew she wasn't handling hers very well. But she had to comfort her boy, she'd do anything for that too--she realized the truth would be useful, no matter her regret for it.
"You saved my life, dear." Though she'd give anything for him to have done otherwise, her own life gone for his own complete well-being.
"You…changed, then you kept them at bay. You didn't seem quite conscious of what you were doing, so perhaps that's why you can't quite remember." Evelyn would not expand any further. Not of her overwhelming fear with everything happening so fast--her son shifting and breaking before her eyes, the horrible noises of pain and mindless rage he made, the viciousness and bestiality he fought with, his meager clothes now rags on him. His blue eyes familiar and alien at the same time, filled with fury and blood thirst. Her son, her son, it was her son, her only son--still outnumbered by wolves (even if he now matched them in size), and they tore at him as much as he clawed back, his (oh god, his) and their blood staining the snow....
"W-wait--I think I remember--" Alphonse squeezed his eyes shut, his ears flattening, and Evelyn tried not to wince. Her boy opened his eyes, shaking his head, "No, I dunno, it's all still blurry--except I--but I heard something pop in the air--"
"That was--"
Evelyn paused as the tent flap opened. Instinctively she blocked her son from sight. When she spoke, Alphonse noted the tone in her voice, and slumped down low to the ground, his ears flat, and he made sure not to make a noise.
"Yes?" Evelyn looked down at the dark haired boy, not much older than her son.
The boy's blue eyes (an icier shade than Alphonse's) irresistibly slid away from her, trying to see behind her.
Perhaps against his better judgment, Alphonse peeked around his mother too--caught sight of the boy momentarily, their eyes meeting for a second, before Maman readjusted her stance before him.
"Gaston, what is it?"
The boy shook himself, then said with an air of a self-important messenger, "My grandfather wants to speak with you again."
Evelyn's patience wasn't ideal under the best of circumstances, and she was finally losing hers after everything. "Is he so infirm that he cannot come see me himself?"
She glared at the boy, knowing she shouldn't take it out on him. But although the old grizzly hunter was scarred and graying with a full beard, Evelyn could see beneath all that how he could've grown from someone deeply resembling Gaston--and the thought of the older man just made her skin crawl at the moment. (He may've saved them, but the way he stared....)
The boy opened his mouth, glaring, but Evelyn had already turned her back on him, snapping, "We can speak if he wishes, but I'm not leaving this tent."
"But--"
"You can go now."
Grumbling, Gaston stomped out, and Alphonse watched him curiously until his mother fitted something into his warped hands.
"Some bread."
"'m not hungry."
She shot him a glare, and her son gulped, his ears flattening once more. "I'm not even going to tell you once," his mother warned in a flat voice.
Alphonse tore off a piece, his fangs working over the stale bread.
"Maman, what is going on?" The boy asked, very quietly in between bites of his meager dinner.
She answered just as quietly, "You heard shots. You had held back the wolves long enough for a hunter, Jean de Havoc--that boy, Gaston, that was his grandfather--he--he finished them off with his rifle." Evelyn tried desperately to keep her voice calm when she continued, "You fell unconscious after that, and Jean helped me bring you back here to his men's camp. They've been kind, offering us shelter and food."
Evelyn did not tell him how she was thankful it was only Jean that had gotten a full view of everything--specifically, her transformed boy still in ragged clothes. She'd finally gotten her leg free, and had rushed over, throwing her cloak over him and struggling to pick him up. The old hunter had assisted further, actually carrying her while she held her son close to her chest.
But Jean had called him her dog, and so did his grandson, and the rest of Jean's men.
Evelyn had run with it, keeping her cloak over Alphonse the whole time. She was a naturally wary person, and every instinct and ill theory in her head compelled her to hide the truth behind her son's new nature for as long as possible.
Despicable and disgusting as it was, Evelyn felt passing off her newly transformed boy as her dog was the safest option.
Just in case, she'd stripped him of his clothes, which also helped tremendously in tending to the wounds the wolves had left on his body. She'd noticed that though fur covered it, her boy's masculinity was still retained--and with that, she carefully replaced what was left of his breeches, his newfound tail having torn through. For now, there was only so far she was willing to go with her charade, she didn't want to completely rob her son of his dignity in exchange for his safety just yet. If she just kept him covered under the blanket Gaston had salvaged from their cart, that should be enough.
But she had no idea how long she could keep it up. The hunters couldn't help but notice how unusually concerned and protective she was of her 'hound,' and she worried some had gotten a good look at his face, maybe even a glimpse of his horns, and thought him too odd of a dog....
And then Jean de Havoc himself--he had provided her cover story, but the way he'd said it and based on further interaction, Evelyn was convinced he suspected something was off. How could he not, he had seen Alphonse wear clothes--who in their right mind dresses their 'dog?' And though the old hunter had only one cold hard eye (same shade as Gaston's), an ugly scar obscuring the other, he'd been the closest to see her emotions at her most intense, her motherly terror at its fever pitch.
Evelyn's gratitude for the man grappled with her paranoia of him--she kept getting the distinct feeling he was toying with her. His curiosity with her 'pup' worried her. Yes, he had helped protect her most precious thing, her only child--but would he continue to be an ally, or turn on them once he knew the whole truth? Was he already scheming behind their backs?
Evelyn sighed deeply, looking down at her son sadly. No, she had to tell her Alphonse some of this, at least enough to have him on his guard as well.
Her hands clenched when he flinched and looked away, shame filling his face--but she was more ashamed, when suddenly no words of comfort came to mind. (He clearly had misunderstood her despairing sigh, and yet could find no words to articulate her true grief, to reassure him.)
Instead she pushed on with her original warning, steeling herself to ask too much of Alphonse--but it was for the best, she only wanted him safe.
###
Alphonse was determined to follow Maman's instructions, she'd been so serious--but it still made something twist real bad in his chest.
But Maman had said he just had to be quiet and stay under the covers, keep out of sight, and everything would be fine. Pretend he wasn't really human. Maman had fixated on that, insisted it was only 'pretend,' he had to pretend, then he'd be safe and the other hunters wouldn't react poorly, though she didn't really explain what she meant by that when he asked.
But the boy found it harder and harder to keep quiet when he heard his mother's and this Jean's voices outside (he'd heard her call the other man by that name with a certain cool politeness in her voice that he heard Maman use with people she didn't trust or like).
It wasn't like they were arguing--they had just started talking, but his mother sounded terse. But in a gravelly voice, Jean had sounded amused, saying, "Infirm, am I? Ashamed that you and your pup had to be rescued by someone past their prime, Madame?"
"I thought I told you I wouldn't be leaving the tent under any circumstances?"
"Unless with your 'dog,' of course--rather loyal, aren't you?" His gravelly voice chuckled. "I suppose that's to be expected--your hound was very dedicated to protecting you, never seen a beast that fierce--"
Beast. The boy curled into himself, his ears flattening, his paws covering them. It helped, he didn't hear much after that, and even fell into an exhausted sleep.
Wished he was human again. Wished his father were here too.
But none of those came true.
Notes: I hoped I made it clear, but if not, here it is: the Princess is AU!Belle. So, I really wanted to parallel but still do twists on the gossip/exposition scene. But I just can't get it to work the way I want it too, and I can really appreciate how brilliant that next scene after the prologue really is, with effectively introducing Belle and Gaston through, etc. Still, I considered that my exposition requires more time and space than the original movie intro, which essentially only needs to get across Belle's bookworm status, her oddity in the village, her wit and desire for adventure, and Gaston's motive to marry Belle. In this fanfic, peasant Beast's situation is a little more complicated and needs more space, expansion, etc.--and I kinda want to give it that since I love the Beast. I did already expand Princess Belle's prologue version way more, and of course made it, well, different and a little more unique to the reversal. And I must confess Beast is my favorite--so there'll be a lot of him for a while? XD And I'm just ignoring other fanon names Adam and Vincent and going with Alphonse…since I really liked the name and was pleased to find it was French too. And his parents names are Adam and Evelyn, playing with all sorts of names conventions, especially the most obvious one.
Fandom: Beauty and the Beast (animated Disney 1991 version)
Summary: A common boy can't escape his fate. (Selective Role Reversal AU of the Animated Disney Film)
Previous: prologue
Disclaimer: I don't Beauty and the Beast or anything related to it.
Ch. 1
"Maman…Maman…Maman, are you there…are you all right?..."
The boy felt as if he were cooling off from a burn that still stung all over his body. It was the cold, surely, the blizzard had come on so quickly, and then Phillipe had gotten trapped along with their cart and the wolves--
"Maman," he whimpered, his voice hoarse and unwieldy.
"I'm here, Alphonse," she finally said, though her voice sounded very distant--but there was her hand, cool and comforting on his forehead, ruffling his hair. "Everything's all right."
But her voice shook.
Alphonse tried to raise his head, his mother's hand slipped, to his nose--he stared at it, her fingers splayed on something flat, extending from his face.
His nose wasn't that big or long.
His eyes went to his mother. Long, dark, curly hair framing her green eyes, so often worn these days--horrified now....
Alphonse shuffled around, moving his hand up to--the boy took a good look at it.
It was a clawed paw. Couldn't be his. But when he made to wiggle his fingers slowly, those thick digits responded.
"Alphonse...."
The concern in his mother's voice got to him--adrenaline rushing everywhere, Alphonse reared back. (He vaguely noticed they were in an unfamiliar tent, and dimly heard the sounds of strangers, men outside, some neighing horses.) Mistake, as he was now rapidly denying the very odd sensation of something dragging from his behind, how his arms remained on the floor and he was backpedalling on all fours.
The boy's eyes fell on a water bowl with a cloth soaking in it. He immediately tore the cloth out and looked at the water's reflection in it--that too was a mistake, for he screamed. Tried to block out from his mind how it sounded more like a roar, something beastly but no less emotional). He'd made such an animal noise of fear seconds after he'd got past his still blue eyes (your father's eyes, Maman had said, fondly--now grieving and bitter since his death weeks ago) and saw the rest of his--oh god, it couldn't be him--it couldn't--what had he--?
Immediately his mother enveloped him in a crushing hug. Stiff with shock, he soon trembled with it and curled himself in his mother's arms. Alphonse tried to make himself as small as possible, tried to ignore the way his tail curled, tried very hard to keep breathing (but not to cry).
###
"Alphonse, stop that," Evelyn ordered her son, catching him pulling at his bandages with his--god, his fangs and claws.
Her transformed boy obeyed with a dejected look, curling back up on his pallet, closing his eyes. Evelyn wished he wouldn't, his eyes (Adam's sky blue, and her heart throbbed) were the only thing completely familiar. Even her child's voice didn't sound quite the same.
Trying to keep calm, but distantly realizing she just sounded cold, Evelyn asked, "Do you remember how you were injured?"
His eyes didn't snap open to look at her, like she hoped. Alphonse turned away, muffling into his pallet, "No--just that you were pinned under the cart--"
Evelyn closed her eyes finally, fighting back the urge to scream at him, I told you to run....
"--and I was trying to keep the wolves away from you--"
With a stick, no less, you stupid boy, you tried to fight off wolves with a damned twig
"--and I--I--" Then Alphonse slowly sat up, and Evelyn watched her son's new profile: snout and horns and dog-like ears, his back slightly hunched, tufts of dark brown fur--fur all over, every inch…but his eyes were the same, yet dazed and glassy, with something dawning in them.
"--I made a wish, Maman. I--I didn't want to lose you like Father--I'd, I'd do anything--"
The boy looked down at his new claws, still staring at them as if they were a deformity, some infection.
Evelyn didn't know what her boy was getting at. Simply chalked it up to shock. She knew she wasn't handling hers very well. But she had to comfort her boy, she'd do anything for that too--she realized the truth would be useful, no matter her regret for it.
"You saved my life, dear." Though she'd give anything for him to have done otherwise, her own life gone for his own complete well-being.
"You…changed, then you kept them at bay. You didn't seem quite conscious of what you were doing, so perhaps that's why you can't quite remember." Evelyn would not expand any further. Not of her overwhelming fear with everything happening so fast--her son shifting and breaking before her eyes, the horrible noises of pain and mindless rage he made, the viciousness and bestiality he fought with, his meager clothes now rags on him. His blue eyes familiar and alien at the same time, filled with fury and blood thirst. Her son, her son, it was her son, her only son--still outnumbered by wolves (even if he now matched them in size), and they tore at him as much as he clawed back, his (oh god, his) and their blood staining the snow....
"W-wait--I think I remember--" Alphonse squeezed his eyes shut, his ears flattening, and Evelyn tried not to wince. Her boy opened his eyes, shaking his head, "No, I dunno, it's all still blurry--except I--but I heard something pop in the air--"
"That was--"
Evelyn paused as the tent flap opened. Instinctively she blocked her son from sight. When she spoke, Alphonse noted the tone in her voice, and slumped down low to the ground, his ears flat, and he made sure not to make a noise.
"Yes?" Evelyn looked down at the dark haired boy, not much older than her son.
The boy's blue eyes (an icier shade than Alphonse's) irresistibly slid away from her, trying to see behind her.
Perhaps against his better judgment, Alphonse peeked around his mother too--caught sight of the boy momentarily, their eyes meeting for a second, before Maman readjusted her stance before him.
"Gaston, what is it?"
The boy shook himself, then said with an air of a self-important messenger, "My grandfather wants to speak with you again."
Evelyn's patience wasn't ideal under the best of circumstances, and she was finally losing hers after everything. "Is he so infirm that he cannot come see me himself?"
She glared at the boy, knowing she shouldn't take it out on him. But although the old grizzly hunter was scarred and graying with a full beard, Evelyn could see beneath all that how he could've grown from someone deeply resembling Gaston--and the thought of the older man just made her skin crawl at the moment. (He may've saved them, but the way he stared....)
The boy opened his mouth, glaring, but Evelyn had already turned her back on him, snapping, "We can speak if he wishes, but I'm not leaving this tent."
"But--"
"You can go now."
Grumbling, Gaston stomped out, and Alphonse watched him curiously until his mother fitted something into his warped hands.
"Some bread."
"'m not hungry."
She shot him a glare, and her son gulped, his ears flattening once more. "I'm not even going to tell you once," his mother warned in a flat voice.
Alphonse tore off a piece, his fangs working over the stale bread.
"Maman, what is going on?" The boy asked, very quietly in between bites of his meager dinner.
She answered just as quietly, "You heard shots. You had held back the wolves long enough for a hunter, Jean de Havoc--that boy, Gaston, that was his grandfather--he--he finished them off with his rifle." Evelyn tried desperately to keep her voice calm when she continued, "You fell unconscious after that, and Jean helped me bring you back here to his men's camp. They've been kind, offering us shelter and food."
Evelyn did not tell him how she was thankful it was only Jean that had gotten a full view of everything--specifically, her transformed boy still in ragged clothes. She'd finally gotten her leg free, and had rushed over, throwing her cloak over him and struggling to pick him up. The old hunter had assisted further, actually carrying her while she held her son close to her chest.
But Jean had called him her dog, and so did his grandson, and the rest of Jean's men.
Evelyn had run with it, keeping her cloak over Alphonse the whole time. She was a naturally wary person, and every instinct and ill theory in her head compelled her to hide the truth behind her son's new nature for as long as possible.
Despicable and disgusting as it was, Evelyn felt passing off her newly transformed boy as her dog was the safest option.
Just in case, she'd stripped him of his clothes, which also helped tremendously in tending to the wounds the wolves had left on his body. She'd noticed that though fur covered it, her boy's masculinity was still retained--and with that, she carefully replaced what was left of his breeches, his newfound tail having torn through. For now, there was only so far she was willing to go with her charade, she didn't want to completely rob her son of his dignity in exchange for his safety just yet. If she just kept him covered under the blanket Gaston had salvaged from their cart, that should be enough.
But she had no idea how long she could keep it up. The hunters couldn't help but notice how unusually concerned and protective she was of her 'hound,' and she worried some had gotten a good look at his face, maybe even a glimpse of his horns, and thought him too odd of a dog....
And then Jean de Havoc himself--he had provided her cover story, but the way he'd said it and based on further interaction, Evelyn was convinced he suspected something was off. How could he not, he had seen Alphonse wear clothes--who in their right mind dresses their 'dog?' And though the old hunter had only one cold hard eye (same shade as Gaston's), an ugly scar obscuring the other, he'd been the closest to see her emotions at her most intense, her motherly terror at its fever pitch.
Evelyn's gratitude for the man grappled with her paranoia of him--she kept getting the distinct feeling he was toying with her. His curiosity with her 'pup' worried her. Yes, he had helped protect her most precious thing, her only child--but would he continue to be an ally, or turn on them once he knew the whole truth? Was he already scheming behind their backs?
Evelyn sighed deeply, looking down at her son sadly. No, she had to tell her Alphonse some of this, at least enough to have him on his guard as well.
Her hands clenched when he flinched and looked away, shame filling his face--but she was more ashamed, when suddenly no words of comfort came to mind. (He clearly had misunderstood her despairing sigh, and yet could find no words to articulate her true grief, to reassure him.)
Instead she pushed on with her original warning, steeling herself to ask too much of Alphonse--but it was for the best, she only wanted him safe.
###
Alphonse was determined to follow Maman's instructions, she'd been so serious--but it still made something twist real bad in his chest.
But Maman had said he just had to be quiet and stay under the covers, keep out of sight, and everything would be fine. Pretend he wasn't really human. Maman had fixated on that, insisted it was only 'pretend,' he had to pretend, then he'd be safe and the other hunters wouldn't react poorly, though she didn't really explain what she meant by that when he asked.
But the boy found it harder and harder to keep quiet when he heard his mother's and this Jean's voices outside (he'd heard her call the other man by that name with a certain cool politeness in her voice that he heard Maman use with people she didn't trust or like).
It wasn't like they were arguing--they had just started talking, but his mother sounded terse. But in a gravelly voice, Jean had sounded amused, saying, "Infirm, am I? Ashamed that you and your pup had to be rescued by someone past their prime, Madame?"
"I thought I told you I wouldn't be leaving the tent under any circumstances?"
"Unless with your 'dog,' of course--rather loyal, aren't you?" His gravelly voice chuckled. "I suppose that's to be expected--your hound was very dedicated to protecting you, never seen a beast that fierce--"
Beast. The boy curled into himself, his ears flattening, his paws covering them. It helped, he didn't hear much after that, and even fell into an exhausted sleep.
Wished he was human again. Wished his father were here too.
But none of those came true.
Notes: I hoped I made it clear, but if not, here it is: the Princess is AU!Belle. So, I really wanted to parallel but still do twists on the gossip/exposition scene. But I just can't get it to work the way I want it too, and I can really appreciate how brilliant that next scene after the prologue really is, with effectively introducing Belle and Gaston through, etc. Still, I considered that my exposition requires more time and space than the original movie intro, which essentially only needs to get across Belle's bookworm status, her oddity in the village, her wit and desire for adventure, and Gaston's motive to marry Belle. In this fanfic, peasant Beast's situation is a little more complicated and needs more space, expansion, etc.--and I kinda want to give it that since I love the Beast. I did already expand Princess Belle's prologue version way more, and of course made it, well, different and a little more unique to the reversal. And I must confess Beast is my favorite--so there'll be a lot of him for a while? XD And I'm just ignoring other fanon names Adam and Vincent and going with Alphonse…since I really liked the name and was pleased to find it was French too. And his parents names are Adam and Evelyn, playing with all sorts of names conventions, especially the most obvious one.