(A short fanfic I wrote as a part of the Disney Crossover What If game)

Part 1

Making his way toward a small town, Phoebus rode his horse in silence. It had been nearly a an since the events of Frollo and the burning of Paris. Phoebus looked down at a woven band he had in his grip. His mind far from the task at hand.
Esmeralda had not made it through the events as easily as he. The man just barely kept himself from tears as he remembered how relieved he had been to see Quasimodo balançoire, swing down and rescue the Gypsy woman's limp body from the flames, only to find out that it already too late. His l’amour Esmeralda had been in the smoke too long. She was gone.

All the constructional damage had been repaired rather quickly par the orders of a new man who had taken Frollo's place of authority. But Phoebus's damage could not be repaired par new beams and nails. His l’amour was gone, forever.

The new man in charge knew nothing of the atrocities Frollo had acted out. He only knew Phoebus was insubordinate to the past authority and had accordingly lowered Phoebus's rank. Now Phoebus was reduced to grunt work, checking towns and running errands. Not that Phoebus minded. It kept him busy. It, usually, kept his mind off of . . . her.

Achilles, his horse, whinnied as if to alert Phoebus that they had reached their destination. Reaching the gate, Phoebus dismounted before entering the town. It was a small town, quiet and provincial, nothing like Paris with its hustle and bustle.

After getting some directions from a baker, Phoebus made his way to the Town Hall only to find the man he was supposed to meet wasn't due till tomorrow.

"Just my luck," a dit Phoebus glancing at his horse. Achilles snorted in response. Seeing a tavern nearby, Phoebus went to tie up his horse. As he was doing so, a muscular man brushed past him, except it wasn't really a brush, the man nearly knocked Phoebus into the nearby water trough. Phoebus glared at the man's back. However the man seemed plus interested in a small young woman who was walking with her nose in a book. How she was able to do that without running into something was beyond him. He saw the brash man approach the girl and greet her. She merely gave a polite response and kept walking, till he snatched her book away. Phoebus could tell the young woman was instantly annoyed though kept herself polite. Sensing trouble, the former Captain of the Guard made his way with Achilles behind him towards the two people.



Part 2

"Gaston, may I have my book please?" the young woman asked.
The rude man seemed to ignore the question. "How can toi read this? There are no pictures."

Phoebus rolled his eyes and took the final steps that put him in conversation distance, "Well most livres that are read are read in words not pictures. At least most livres that are meant for those over the age of 5." The brash man, finally noticing him, sent Phoebus a glare that Phoebus could only compare to a selfish child that had a new toy and didn't want to share.

"Hmph," the man, with his nose in the air, tossed the book which fell into murky puddle nearby. The young woman went to save the book from the water but the brash man stood in her way. "Belle, it's time toi got your head out of those livres and paid attention to plus important things...like me." The man continued as if Phoebus hadn't spoken. "The whole town's talking about it. It's not right for a woman to read. Soon she starts getting ideas and thinking."
Phoebus, taking another small step in, added, "Afraid she'll learn to outwit you? If that's your worry, be at ease. I'm sure she can already do that without the books." That did it. The man's head snapped in his direction with a look spelled murder.
"What did toi just say?!" This was a demand, not a question. "Are toi calling me stupid?!" The man took a threatening step towards Phoebus, who just faintly noticed the worried look on the young woman's face. In terms of height and bulk, the brute had him beat, but in terms of skill and intelligence, well, Phoebus was pretty sure the man wasn't much of a competitor.

Knowing he would have the upper hand, Phoebus let a grin slip, knowing it would set the other man off. And it did.
The brute roared as he pulled back his fist and lunged at Phoebus. Quirking a brow, Phoebus stepped to the side and stuck his foot out. The idiot immediately tripped and, while landing in a mud puddle, hit the cobblestone hard. Achilles, who was still nearby, saw his master's conspiratorial grin and plopped into a sitting position on the rude man's back.
par that time a small crowd had formed around the group. Phoebus suppressed a smirk, before changing his expression. The crowd had already begun openly laughing at the brute. "Oh, dear! I'm sorry. Naughty horse, naughty. He's just impossible. Really I can't take him anywhere," Phoebus a dit in mock apology. He nearly missed it, but his peripheral vision let him catch the stifled laugh from the book-loving young woman. He smiled. Maybe this wasn't such a bad day.
"Get this cow off me!" the man shouted. Phoebus nodded to Achilles, who then stood up. "I'll teach toi a lesson, toi b******!"(me: *gasp* Gaston! Language!) He pulled out a hunting knife, ready to attack. In response, Phoebus unsheathed his sword.
"You were saying?"
Now Gaston wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he knew some things. One of those things being symbols and their meanings. And that insignia on this new man's sword hit a chord.
"That, that sword. You're. . ." A look of fear came over Gaston's face and he staggered a few steps back. He had heard the stories, both those from the wars and those from Paris. If this man was who that sword a dit he was, there was no winning a fight against him.

Phoebus, seeing the other man's recognition, sheathed his sword. Seeing this as good a time as any to get out without further embarrassment, Gaston made his way towards the tavern.

After watching the man leave, Phoebus turned and walked over to the puddle where the book had landed. Lifting it from the water, Phoebus tried to dry the book the best he could with his cape. Walking over to the woman, he said, "A little worse for wear, I'm afraid." He handed it to her.

"Oh, it's not too bad," the woman answered as she flipped through the pages, making sure the wet ones didn't stick to much. She looked up. "Thank you," she said, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

Just when it was about to turn into a real conversation, there was a sound of a small explosion. Phoebus quickly turned toward the sound. "What was that?" he looked around incredulously as the townspeople hardly seemed to notice. The young woman suivant him sighed.

"Well, seems another of Papa's inventions had a glitch," she stated as if it were obvious.

Two secondes later a short elderly man, with the most eccentric pair of goggles, came running down the street. "Belle, there toi are. That gros morceau, hunk of camelote, indésirable is all out of wack again. I need to come up to the house with me."

"Yes Papa." She turned to Phoebus. "Sorry, I have to go. I'll see toi again?" she asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Phoebus smiled. "I certainly hope so."The woman, whom he now knew was called Belle, blushed lightly before turning to leave with her father.

'Belle. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.' Not even an heure with her and he felt like he knew her. She was smart, brave, caring. Phoebus did want to see Belle again. He was not sure if he was ready to l’amour again, not just yet. But...perhaps with time. Yes, his eyes closed and he smiled. Perhaps with time.


*sad* I feel like my Muse deserted me half-way through part 2.