Gaston - Chapter 8 (Patreon)

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The two individuals, one girl and one boy, stared at each other quietly in the rapidly dimming room.

Gaston was the one to break the silence.

“I don’t think this is the place for such a sensitive discussion.” He made sure to speak quietly enough so no-one outside the room could hear, his face serious.

Anastasia noted that he looked rather ridiculous. He reminded her of some of the shadier individuals that would sometimes show up and offer ‘business deals’ to her father. The only problem with this was the fact that the ‘shady individual’ in question was eight years old.

She suddenly felt an intense desire to let out a giggle. She managed to restrain herself, but the corners of her mouth turned slightly upwards.

“You have a proposal, then?” She asked him, tilting her head slightly to the side.

He stood up with a conspiratory look on his face.

Anastasia briefly lamented the state of her bedsheets, which he’d made a mess of while she was dressing.

He went over and sat on the window still, the wind blowing from behind to throw his long hair into his face. His expression quickly turned to one of irritation as he pulled strands of hair out of his mouth which he’d just opened in an attempt to reply to her question.

“Ahem. As I was saying, I think we should…” He cleared his throat before he continued speaking.

Unfortunately, before he could finish, there was a soft knock at the door.

“Are you still awake, Anna?” A soft, girlish voice asked from the other side.

Anastasia put one finger to her lips to shush Gaston before replying to her sister.

“I’m trying to sleep, Lancy. What is it?”

The other girl paused for a moment before replying.

“Margaret’s heated some milk in the kitchen. I wondered if you’d like some.”

She sounded slightly guilty, likely noticing that she’d disturbed her eldest sister’s sleep.

“No thank you. More than anything else, I’d like to get some rest.”

Anastasia made sure to add a hint of irritation to her reply.

“Oh, all right. I’ll tell everyone not to disturb you.” Lancy apologetically stated.

Gaston and Anastasia waited while the girl’s quiet footsteps retreated from the door. She must’ve been wearing socks.

The eight-year-old La Fayette sucked on his lower lip until the opportunity for him to speak finally returned.

“Well, that proves my point.” He lifted one hand to point a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the forest. “No-one will disturb…”

To Gaston’s chagrin, the sound of steady footsteps could be heard on the wooden floor. His mouth hung open, the words left unspoken, as another knock could be heard on the door, followed by an adult voice.

“Anne? It’s your father. If you’re feeling ill, let me know.” He waited for a moment to give his daughter a chance to respond. When she didn’t, he continued. “If its something you can’t tell me about, then I’ll call Margaret.”

“No, father. I’m not ill, just tired.” She said, honest exhaustion seeping into her voice.

“Alright, mon ange.” He whispered one last sentence against the door before finally leaving. “This new home and everything else… it’ll work out, okay? We all love you, sweetie.”

Anastasia looked like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Did her family think she was throwing a tantrum in her room or something?

Gaston shook his head, just deciding to continue where he left off. “…if we discuss this outside…”

Who could have guessed that, a handful of seconds away from finishing his sentence, he’d be interrupted again.

“Are you there, Anastasia?” An older, feminine, voice whispered from the other side of the door. Margaret must’ve accompanied the Le Marquand patriarch on his way to his daughter’s room.

The girl in question folded her arms in front of her chest in irritation.

“What do you need, Margaret?”

The voice on the other side sounded apologetic. “Are you having ‘lady problems’? Would you like me to bring you a hot towel?”

The blonde’s face darkened, the change visible even in the dim room.

“No, for goodness sake!” She exclaimed embarrassedly through clenched teeth.

There was a short, offended silence from the other side of the door. “I ask because I care, girl. There’s no need for you to take that kind of tone.” A sigh could be heard, as if the maid found herself disappointed at her young miss’ behavior. “If you change your mind, just ring the servant’s bell on your table.”

With that, Margaret left, leaving the two children in silence.

Gaston looked at Anastasia from the corner of his eye. He suddenly felt that he’d overheard something he shouldn’t have, and the atmosphere had gotten a bit dangerous.

“Well…” He said, his tone cautious. “Maybe we should resume this discussion at a later time.”

He swung one of his legs out of the window, readying himself to drop down into the well-kept yard. Before he could do so, a hand grabbed his upper arm.

“Wait outside the window. As soon as the house has gone to sleep, I’ll come to accompany you.” Anastasia whispered to him, before letting go.

Gaston nodded before quickly exiting the room and clambering down the wall, using the rugged, large stones of the building as handholds.

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He hadn’t waited long before he saw a slim figure nimbly made their way down the wall. Gaston looked on in surprise as Anastasia walked over to where he loitered near the stables, partially hidden behind a large brush. She’d changed into a pair of tight-fitting trousers (… ) and had tied her hair into a loose pony-tail.

“Interesting outfit.” Gaston noted, his eyes travelling downwards to glance at her long, slim legs, wrapped in tight cloth.

Anastasia rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Will you give it a rest?”

Gaston smiled in the darkness, his golden eyes glinting mischievously. “You’ll have to put up with it, I’m afraid.” He rubbed his chin as he admired her flawless, pale complexion that practically glowed in the moonlight. “You have a rather… singular appearance.”

Anastasia couldn’t stop herself from letting out a soft snort. “Your language is rather pretentious for a mere baron’s son, isn’t it?”

Gaston raised his hands in helplessness. “My disposition is highly noble by nature.”

She ignored his grandstanding, walking passed him in the direction of a shadowed back-street. “Don’t waste time – it will be trouble if someone comes to look for me while I’m gone.”

Gaston clasped his hands behind his back with a grin before quickly coming over to Anastasia’s side to walk beside her.

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The two of them made their way through the town silently. Gaston naturally took the lead, given that the Le Marquand family had only arrived in Villeneuve today. He was heading for the church, having decided that the consequences would be the lowest if they were to be caught at that particular location. After all, would a pair of teen ‘sweethearts’ decide to conduct their sordid activities at a church of all places? Certainly not.

The thought had scarcely flashed through his head when the two of them arrived at the church to see… two figures, holding tightly onto each other, their heads in close proximity as they whispered tender words into each other’s ears.

Anastasia and Gaston looked at the two of them, their expressions dismayed. The two individuals quickly noticed the new arrivals.

“Is that you, Gaston?” The boy, a freckled youth with mousy brown hair, asked.

Gaston sighed while running a hand through his long hair.

The boy, let go of his ‘date’ and walked over to the two new arrivals. He tried to catch a glimpse of Anastasia’s face, but he couldn’t see more than the lower half due to the brown hood she’d covered herself up with.

“You work fast, don’t you Gaston?” He said, his voice admiring. Even though he couldn’t see this girl’s face, he could tell a lot just from looking at her figure.

Anastasia didn’t bother to introduce herself. She simply stood there, silently simmering, as her desire to inquire about the supernatural happenings of yesterday was delayed again. On top of that, she was feeling terribly tired from the sleepless night as well as the long trip.

Gaston could feel her irritation. He himself was rather keen to get things over with, so he quickly spoke to the other boy. “Don’t be bothersome, James. The lady and her family only arrived in town today, and she’d like to give her thanks for their safe arrival before having her nightly rest.”

The other lad had a skeptical expression on his face, but he stood aside to make way for them. However, he made sure to whisper a sentence into Gaston’s ear as he walked past. “I have a pint on me, if you want some.”

Gaston looked at the fellow with a disbelieving gaze. He sure was daring, not only conducting his lustful activities in front of a church, but indulging in alcohol as well. He wouldn’t put such behavior past a modern person, but the ancient population was extremely conservative. He had no idea where James got his religious disregard from – his father was very devout, after all.

Actually, that would do it, wouldn’t it? A child rebelling against their strict parent was hardly a novel situation.

Having resolved the puzzle in his mind, Gaston waved his hand at the other boy in refusal. “Enjoy the rest of your… night.”

He walked into the church gardens with Anastasia following closely behind. It was a well-known secret that the priest left the servant’s door unlocked at night.

They silently made their way through the well-manicured vegetation, the two observers resuming their business of exchanging saliva in the meantime.

“Here we are.” Gaston said as he slowly pushed open the creaking wooden door at the church’s rear entrance.

Anastasia looked around, not particularly impressed, as she stepped into the building. The building wasn’t small, though. It was easily the biggest building in the town, with rows of wooden benches lining the floor. The floor was leveled into segments, with each row being lower than the last until one reached the pulpit. It sat at the bottom of a decline – the preacher would have to look upwards as he spoke to his audience.

“What a strangely built church; a priest without the requisite humility certainly wouldn’t be willing to preach here.” Anastasia said.

She walked down the corridor until she entered the nave, looking up at the roof high above her head. It was a rather grand feat of construction, given the level of skill and technology the average villager possessed.

(Nave: The nave is the area of the church where parishioners, or members of the church, sit or stand. In Catholic and Protestant churches, this area is comprised of pews. In modern churches, it is not uncommon to see rows of chairs or even tables with chairs in this area.)

“The founder of the village, a respectable statesman, apparently spent his fortune to have this church built around a hundred years ago.” Gaston said, coming to stand beside her.

Anastasia turned around to sit on one of the benches, making sure to wipe the seat with her sleeve first. The polished wood turned out to be cleaner than she expected, judging from the lack of dust on her clothes.

She lifted her head to look at Gaston, her expression inscrutable. The night was open and clear, and the interior of the church was faintly illuminated by the glowing white moon and the shimmering stars. A large mosaic piece of frosted glass, installed above the pew, allowed for light to enter the building.

Gaston took a seat across from her, separated by the walkway that parted the opposing benches.

“I chose this venue out of necessity, but I realize now that it is rather suitable for this type of discussion.” He ran his hands over the well-maintained wood underneath him, his fingers tracing the grain which had been worn down after years of polishing. "Hopefully, it can help to ward off any 'evil forces'."

“Now, what would you like to know?” He asked, smiling at the fairy-like girl sitting in the other pew.

Anastasia didn’t immediately respond to his question, but instead leveled one of her own. “Are we in danger of being interrupted by the priest?”

Gaston shook his head in the darkness. “He doesn’t live here - he has his own home near the church.”

She nodded, apparently satisfied. Then, she spoke. “What was that… thing we encountered last night?” Her voice trembled a little when she mentioned the creature.

Gaston let out a long sigh, leaning backwards and crossing his fingers together over his abdomen. “Well, from what I noticed, it seems to have been a type of… “ He stared at her with grave seriousness, his eyes glinting golden in the moonlight. “…monster.”

Anastasia’s eyebrow twitched. “Yes, I was able to notice that as well. Can you be more specific…?”

Gaston cleared his throat and readjusted himself in his seat. “Ah… well, it’s the type of monster that likes to prey on children, of course.”

‘How decidedly unhelpful.’ Anastasia thought, as she stared at Gaston with an unamused expression. She was beginning to think that he didn’t know as much as he’d been letting on.

“How about me… and you? Do you know what was happening to me… and how did you stop it?” Her lower lip trembled, and she bit down on it to help restore herself to a state of calm.

Gaston tapped his fingers against the pew in a contemplative rhythm. Finally, he spoke. “About three years ago, I was wandering alone in the forest after dark.”

Anastasia listened to the words with a confused expression. She didn’t know where this story was going, but she assumed that its relevance would be revealed in due time. Still…

“That’s ridiculous. Why would you want to do that?” She asked, finding the idea of a young boy wandering around the woods at night to be rather disturbing.

Gaston scratched his cheek, not sure what to say. “I’m not sure how to explain it – I’ve always preferred night to day.”

Seeing her expression, Gaston decided to clarify a few things. “I don’t need very much rest, and my mother and father are sound sleepers. What else can I say?”

She shook her head numbly. She still felt that there was something very off about this, but she was willing to drop the issue so he could finish telling his story.

‘Wasn’t he afraid of encountering wild animals at night?’

“Continue what you were saying.” She said, waving one hand side to side in an effort to hurry him along.

He nodded. “Long story short, as I was going about my business, I suddenly came across a person.” He looked at her silently, giving her and opportunity to interrupt him. However, she remained silent, allowing him to continue.

His expression was a little strange as he reminisced the occasion. “Perhaps calling ‘it’ a person wasn’t entirely correct – it seemed a little malformed to be one. Frankly, I couldn’t quite make out the details in the darkness. It slowly started moving towards me until we were separated by a few yards. I still couldn’t see much, but I now realize that it was likely the same thing we encountered last night – or something very similar to it.” He stopped then and rubbed his chin. He wasn’t sure if she’d believe his next words. “I stared at it and it stared at me. Or, well, I stared at where it’s eyes would have been if I were able to see them. But I wasn’t, because it was dark. After ten or twenty seconds of that, it suddenly turned and left.”

Anastasia was speechless. Did he scared it off by staring at it? She wanted to refute the statement, but she remembered that she too had been rather scared of his gaze at that time.

“And you have no idea why it fled?” She asked doubtfully. “And you weren’t afraid?”

“As for why it fled, I can only guess. Regarding if I was scared or not, I’d like to ask you a question instead: …” He looked at Anastasia probingly. “…Were you afraid last night when you encountered it?”

That gave her pause. She thought back to the flurry of emotions she’d experienced when she’d first laid eyes on it, as well as that strange sensation of… being overcome, or being immersed in ‘something’.

She growled in frustration. It was clear that Gaston didn’t know much, or if he did, then he wasn’t willing to tell her. She doubted the latter. How much could he really know at his age anyway? She wasn’t able to arrive at the answer herself either. This feeling of helplessness regarding her situation infuriated her.

She took a deep breath before she answered him. “At that time, I was afraid… and wasn’t afraid.” She hesitated before continuing. “I was more… curious.”

Gaston nodded, looking like he’d confirmed his suspicions. “Clearly, you’re different as well. From what I saw, it even looked like the monster made an effort to communicate with you. And…”

She waited in suspense as he dragged out the last statement.

“…and your eyes were completely black. It could’ve been a trick of the light, but that is what it’d seemed like to me.”

She reeled at that revelation. For a moment, she considered telling him about the ‘transformative’ feeling she’d experienced, but… what purpose would that serve? He likely wouldn’t know anything of significant use...

‘This is just…’ She shook her head internally. It was clear that she’d have to explore her situation independently if she wanted answers. She suddenly thought of the dismembered limb he’d given to her.

“At that time, you shushed me, and you gave me its… hand.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “Well, I didn’t want you to say anything about what happened. As for the hand, it was a prank and nothing more. I apologize if it was a bit tasteless.”

She looked at him suspiciously. “A prank…? No, more importantly, shouldn’t we inform someone about what we saw? This thing is clearly extremely dangerous. What if it attacks someone again? What if it comes for our families? We should speak to our parents, there’s a chance they saw it as well.”

Gaston looked at her. “Honestly, I’m unsure of how to approach the topic. As you said, they likely saw it as well. Our fathers’, as well as your maid’s behavior today was very telling.” He drew in a long breath. “I think it may only cause them more worry if they knew that we were ‘in the know’, so to speak.” Seeing that she didn’t immediately agree with him, he continued. “Of course, if you want to tell your father, then do go ahead. I’m just saying that they likely have their plans, and I’m not sure things would improve if we interfered.”

Anastasia had started chewing on her thumb-nail as she listened to him speak. It was a horrible habit she’d discarded, but now, in this stressful situation, she couldn’t help but indulge in it.

She didn’t know what to do. For starters, she didn’t have a lot of confidence that her father would be able to deal with this. She reached into her cloak and pulled out something wrapped in a brown cloth. She removed the material to reveal the dismembered claw, now decayed to the state where the skin had turned into something resembling rotten leaves and the bones into chipped rock.

She looked at it with an expression that wasn’t quite that of fear. Tentatively, she reached out and stroked the hard bones with the tips of her fingers. “Your father was able to chop through its wrist – would he be able to kill it?” She asked, her voice soft.

Gaston exhaled slowly. “Maybe… But do remember, he injured himself in the process and broke his weapon as well. It just goes to show that the creature must be very resilient to damage.”

Anastasia nodded slowly. She noticed that Gaston didn’t seem particularly panicked. She tore her gaze away from the claw to stare inquisitively at him. “You have a plan, then?” She asked, voicing her suspicions.

He raised his eyebrows while looking at the ceiling. “I wouldn’t say that I have a plan…” He tilted his head from left to right. “It’s more that I don’t see the creature assaulting the village directly. I mean, it hasn’t done so in the past three years, has it?”

Anastasia frowned. “According to what I overhead your father speak about, there have been ‘animal attacks’ in the vicinity recently.”

Gaston nodded, one finger tapping against his lips. “True, but they haven’t been inside the village, and they have occurred during the night or twilight hours.”

Was he being serious? “That hardly means that there isn’t a problem.” She looked at him accusingly. ‘Is he… fine with this situation?’

Gaston noticed her judging attitude. “Don’t look at me like that. What am I supposed to do? As I said, I don’t have a plan. If you have a solution, then by all means, let me know and I’ll help you execute it.”

The two of them became silent. Gaston sat comfortably on his pew, his short legs barely touching the ground. Anastasia seemed to be a bit more agitated, having drawn one of her legs up to her chest, breaking her usual ladylike posture. They didn’t look at each other, their gazes instead wandering around the inside of the church.

‘Do I have any… extraordinary ability?’ Anastasia thought. She resolved herself to investigate the memories of last night when she got the chance in the future. If she were more of a devout Christian, she’d have hesitated to engage in something that, by all accounts, could be considered devilry. Gaston was right, the monster had communicated with her, and it hadn’t been hostile to her. She looked over to where he sat, his arms folded underneath his cloak. He seemed perfectly at ease.

Unable to resolve the situation at the moment, she stood up. “I will be going to bed now – there’s no need for you to accompany me.” She was too tired to think of a solution right now. It was hardly a good habit, but she’d decided to leave this particular problem for tomorrow.

Gaston agreed. “Alright. If you want to discuss in the future, let me know.” Despite what he told Anastasia earlier, his mother was likely waiting for him to get home. He didn’t exactly look forward to the upcoming conversation with her.

The two of them exited the church silently, making sure to close the door behind them. After that, they separated, heading to their respective homes. 

The other two transgressors had long since departed. Gaston was relieved to see that they hadn’t left any litter in front of the building. The villagers were universally protective of the church – defaming it in such a way would certainly result in a proverbial witch hunt once any mess was noticed, as had been the case in the past.

On his way home, Gaston glanced at the priest’s house one street over from the church. The shutters were dark, indicating that the single inhabitant had long since gone to sleep. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself and continued his journey home.

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“Well, how was it? Did you enjoy your time with my future daughter-in-law?”

Gaston internally rolled his eyes at his mother’s probing. “We just had a chat, mother. Don’t blow things out of proportion.”

Jeanne had predictably been waiting for him to return, along with his father. The latter had enthusiastically returned to his bed once it became clear his presence would no longer be needed. The former, not so much. She was a little too interested in her son’s non-existent love life.

Of course, they had known where he was going as it was still daytime when he’d left.

“Come sit and tell me all about it; we’ll see if I can correct any possible mistakes you made.” She patted the space next to her on his bed, where she was currently seated.

He sighed as he hung his cloak in his room, preparing himself to endure the upcoming barrage of questions.

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