"Haven't seen you for a while. Thought you'd left for good," the shopkeeper commented, wrapping the meat Belle had purchased for her and Max's supper that night.
"My, um…employer has been giving me lodging because of…the snow," Belle fibbed, anxious to finish her errands and escape into the peace and solitude of her home. Though the weeks of rest had given her space to heal, and the recent task of cleaning a dusty, abandoned house something to occupy her mind, she still fought to keep her feelings at bay in public. It made it worse that no one in the village knew of her mother's death, but of course without explaining the mirror's power she had no plausible explanation for knowing herself.
I miss them already, she thought absently, thinking of the castle and its inhabitants who she'd left but a day prior to check on her home. …I miss him.
She'd been too preoccupied with her grief to think of it, but it turned out Adam had been keeping watch over her home through the mirror during her span of solitude. He also discovered that her father planned to remain in Paris until spring, given the heavy snows that lined the mountain paths. Belle's chest grew tight at the thought of Papa, all alone in his grief. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the moisture away as she stood among the loud, oblivious crowds. Wishing her closest friend could somehow appear and whisk her away to a safe, warm library.
"Belle! My, how I've missed that pretty face."
Belle nearly groaned aloud. Fate must have a cruel sense of humor, she thought, sucking in a deep breath before turning to face the man behind her. "…Bonjour, Gaston."
"Belle, you must be so glad to see me! It's been what? A week?"
"About a month, I believe," she deadpanned.
"A month! No, no, it couldn't be. I'd have noticed."
"…Of course. My mistake," Belle said dryly. Because I'm obviously the one confused about how I spend my own time, she scathed inwardly, not even bothering with the eye roll he deserved.
"Well, you missed my latest kill," he went on, clearly with no intention to inquire where she had been for so long. Not that Belle was surprised—for all his attentions, he rarely inquired after her personal life, not to mention her interests. Though she was a little disappointed he hadn't given up on her after his latest coercion attempt failed.
"You should've seen it, Belle—the most enormous bear I've ever laid eyes on!" he exclaimed, gripping her shoulder with a rough hand and guiding her across the street. "Made the old girl into a rug, in fact—" At that, he pushed through the swinging doors to the bar and pulled her inside. Belle would have normally put up more of a fight to his efforts, but in her current state she had little energy to do so.
Inside his father's tavern, a few of the town's most pathetic occupants sat, completed inebriated despite the early hour. Belle looked absently where Gaston pointed, noticing the thick, brown rug lying before the hearth. The man tugged her across the room, and as they moved close she realized the bear's form had been kept. It was all there—the head, the tail, the paws—
She gasped at the latter, the animal's hands reminding her so much of another's. She felt Gaston's fingers gripping her shoulders roughly, in such contrast to Adam's gentle, comforting touch. Belle stared down at the dead creature at their feet, heart racing in a sudden, terrible horror.
She felt herself shaking, trying to pull away. Trying not to imagine what Gaston would attempt should he ever discover her dearest friend.
"What's the matter?" Gaston asked. He didn't sound concerned so much as upset that she wasn't exclaiming her adoration for his great skill.
"N-nothing," she whispered. "I…I need to return home."
Gaston huffed in irritation. "Isn't your mother better yet?"
Belle gasped in grief, biting her lip hard before slipping quickly past him and racing out into the streets.
"As crazy as 'er ol' man," the bartender said with a gruff voice once she left. "Don' know why yer so keen on havin' 'er. If ya don mind me sayin', sir."
Gaston's pout at Belle's departure quickly faded. "She's the only one I haven't had," he explained with a wicked grin. "At least, of the one's worth having."
The tavern's few occupants chuckled sickly, and Gaston crossed his arms over his chest in triumph.
"Still," the bartender went on with a smirk. "Sure seems mer trouble than she's worth."
Gaston only smiled further. "That's the best part. You see…I always do enjoy the hunt."
"Excellent shot, my lord!"
The fifteen year-old master smiled with pride, swinging the animate gun across his back and racing off into the brush to track down the deer. He spotted the trail of blood quickly, following it to the open clearing where it led. The animal lay still in the dry grass, and Adam grimaced for a moment before shaking his head. He had to eat, after all.
He was about to step into the open when he heard loud, heavy footfalls against the dry earth. Adam froze in place, heart racing as the noise grew closer.
"Oi! Anyone there?" a voice called out. It was deep, but had the cadence of someone but a few years his senior.
Another hunter?! Adam realized in shock. He peaked around the tree he was hiding behind, eyes growing wide at the man walking into the open.
He was enormous. His muscles bulged through his clothes from shoulders to calves. His feet were encased in thick boots that were surprisingly quiet against the earth given the man's size. He carried a single bow in his hands and a quiver of arrows against his back, black hair swept into a neat ponytail that revealed a deep cleft in his chin.
Adam felt a small nudge against his back as Fabien leaned close to his ear. "Perhaps he has a sister," the old gun whispered wryly.
Whether Fabien was joking or not, he had a point. In nearly five years, no one had yet been seen within the palace grounds. Adam had no idea how the enchantress expected him to break this curse when she not only made him completely undesirable to the opposite sex, but trapped him here so he couldn't meet one of them should he want to.
In fact, he was starting to wonder if she even meant for him to break it at all.
"Hey, you want your kill or not?" the hunter asked irritably, breaking him from his thoughts.
Should I talk to him? Adam wondered nervously, staring back out at the giant man—while the young beast was already well over six feet tall, he was still fairly lean throughout his limbs and torso. This man could have easily been twice his weight.
A fang dug into Adam's upper lip as he thought. It had been five years…five years without seeing a human.
I have to talk to him, he realized. This could be our only chance.
Turning back to the clearing, he was about to call out, but the stranger was gone. Heart in his throat, Adam ran out from where he hid, desperate not to lose his only chance at freedom.
The moment he stepped into the clearing, however, an arrow flew mere inches past his face.
Adam cried out, spinning around in search of the hunter. Before he could react, another arrow flew from the dark canopy above, lodging itself in his thigh. He let out a terrible howl of pain before collapsing to his other knee. Vision growing blurry, his own heavy breathing was the only thing he could hear as it echoed in his skull.
"St-stop!" he managed through the pain, eyes searching the treetops above for his attacker. "Please!"
"…It talks?" a voice rasped from the distance, and Adam finally caught sight of movement in the trees above. The young man climbed down quickly, crouching skillfully on one of the lower branches, bow still in hand. "This forest really is cursed, then," he stated.
"Please," Adam repeated, holding the arrow lodged in his flesh, blood dripping over his fingers as he swallowed back his nausea. "I won't attack. I—I'm a person, like you."
The man looked him over in amusement. "A person?" he mocked, a sick smile creeping over his face. "You're a monster."
Adam felt his heart sink in his chest. "But I'm…I'm still—"
To his shock, the young man laughed roughly. "What'd you do, kill a man and steal his clothes and that gun across your back?"
"W-what?" Adam stammered in horror. "No! These are mine—"
"Pretending to be a man isn't going to make you one." The young hunter jumped to the ground, pulling a long knife from his boot as he moved closer. Eyes growing wide, Adam tried to stand, but his leg proved completely useless.
"No, you're nothing but a beast," the man went on darkly, licking his lips as his knife reflected the midday sun. "And I bet bringing back your head will make me the greatest hunter in all of—"
Before he could finish, Adam felt a tug across his back and a loud gunshot ringing in his ears. Fabien had propped himself atop his shoulder, smoke spilling from his end. "Missed him," the older man huffed in irritation.
Adam turned back towards where the hunter had stood. The man was crouched over on the ground, but soon whipped his head back, eyes blazing in fury.
"Come, my lord!" Fabien whispered harshly. "You still have three working limbs, have you not?"
Adam nodded quickly, rolling over and pushing himself onto his paws before bolting as quickly as he could into the dark woods. The young man's angry yells could be heard behind him, but he didn't dare look back.
Several miles into the forest, Adam finally slowed. "Can you see him?" he panted, the pain in his leg manifesting once again as he turned back to stare into the trees behind them.
"No," the gun said firmly. "I think we've lost him. Even injured, you make quick headway, my lord."
Adam nodded slowly, still unwilling to take any chances. He stared at his thigh, realizing the blood had soaked through his entire pant leg. "I'm bleeding," he said dumbly, before shaking his head. "I-I mean, I probably left a trail."
"Even if not, the man could probably find us from your tracks alone," the gun went on, humming to himself as he thought. "I would advise we head towards the brook eastwards. If you wade upstream until the point of the mount, it should erase the trail enough to then head safely towards the palace."
Adam reached towards the arrow's shaft still in his leg, snapping it at the center and leaving the rest wedged in his flesh. He knew better than to try and pull it out on his own. "All right," he agreed. "Let's go."
"Master, where have you—What happened?!"
Adam pushed open the front doors with a heavy paw, dragging himself inside and collapsing on the cold floor. Trekking through the stream on three limbs had proved much more arduous than he'd anticipated, and the rushing water seemed to pull extra blood from the wound as it rushed against him. But at least he'd made it back.
He was only partially aware of the growing number of frantic voices as exhaustion flooded over him.
"Oh my heavens!"
"My lord!"
"What happened to him?!"
"He was shot—arrow to the thigh," Fabien's voice echoed from behind him. "Poor lad had to circle all the way back from the western boundary—"
"Shot? By who?!"
"Someone send for the doctor!"
"Here, I'm here."
Adam opened one eye to see Docteur Mathius being set beside his leg by one of the tall coatracks, a few dozen other servants gathered around and clearly in a panic.
"Everyone, I'm…I'm fine," Adam said slowly. He felt perfectly calm, though his voice sounded strange and heavy in his ears.
"The boy's in shock," Mathius said straightly. "Someone find a chair, we need to lift up his legs—" Before he could finish, a living armchair had pushed his way through the crowd and offered himself up.
"Good, now cover him with a blanket, and we'll need plenty of thick bandages, and something to tie off that leg. Oh, and strong drink…"
Adam wasn't sure how much time passed when he felt someone pulling him into a sitting position. "Here, young master. Drink this." It was Sophie, her cool metal body propping him into her lap.
"What is it?" Adam asked groggily.
"…It's whisky, my lord. Please, take it."
"But Mrs. Potts…Mrs. Potts says I'm not supposed to drink that…"
"It's all right, love," the teapot's voice echoed from somewhere nearby. "Just…just this once is okay."
Confused, he obeyed. "Ugh," he shuddered as the bitter drink slid down his throat. "That's gross."
"Sophie, I need you now," the doctor's voice called out. "We need to get this out immediately. It's been in too long already." Adam soon felt something being wrapped around his leg above the pain, tightening quickly before Mathius spoke out again, louder this time as he called attention to all around. "Anyone fragile needs to leave. He might thrash out."
Adam furrowed his brows as several objects clinked off across the hard floors. Why would I thrash— His thoughts were cut off by a terrible tearing sensation in his leg.
He roared in pain. "THAT HURTS!"
"I-I'm sorry, Master," Sophie whispered. Adam managed to open his eyes again, looking down to see her metal hand coated in blood and wrapped around the arrow's shaft, ready to tug again.
"No…wait…I'm not ready," he said in fear, trying to pull away. In response, his arms were quickly restrained by two of the coat rack footmen.
"My apologies, my lord," one of them said quietly.
The other nodded, holding him firmly in place. "It'll be over soon, Master."
Adam never did recall whether the alcohol or the blood loss kicked in first. All he remembered was blacking out soon afterwards and waking up on one of the parlor sofas with a thick bandage around his leg. He stayed there for a week, before he gained back enough strength that the footman could help him hobble back to the West Wing. Mathius said it was a miracle the leg didn't get infected.
After that, it took several more weeks before Adam could walk again, but he had little desire to venture into the woods anytime soon as it was. Instead, he found himself checking the enchanted mirror at an unhealthy rate for any sign of the hunter's return, but the forest remained as human-free as it always had. In the meantime, he asked the servants to take down all his predecessors' hunting trophies from the walls, and even once he could walk again was seen less and less often leaving his chambers.
"Master?" Mrs. Potts asked one evening, venturing to check on the teenaged beast after not having seen him since the night before. "Won't you come down for some supper? Chef Bouche has made you some venison ragu—one of your favorites."
Adam sat up slowly from his bed, shaking his head in reply. "I'm not hungry, Mrs. Potts."
"But…you must eat," she said anxiously, noticing the way his fur had started to sag around his cheeks, the pale look in his eyes. Mrs. Potts knew that look—the look of someone malnourished.
"I guess I'll take something," he conceded. "But not the venison, please."
"But…you're growing sick," she said carefully. "You must eat some meat, dear, or I'm quite afraid we'll lose you."
He only shook his head again, closing his eyes.
Mrs. Potts was quiet for a long moment. "Won't you tell me what's wrong, love?"
He rubbed the front of his neck subconsciously, staring at his feet. "It's just…it's that hunter. He wanted to hang my head on his wall," he rasped, finally looking up at the woman with quaking eyes. "Like…like an animal. Even after I spoke with him, told him I wasn't a…" He stopped, swallowing roughly. "Well, maybe he was right. I am a monster…aren't I?"
"No, no," she assured him. "You're still you, on the inside—"
"But how—" he interrupted, face contorting in pain. "How can I ever hope to break this curse if this is all they see?" he asked. Before she could respond, he continued. "I felt the fear of being hunted, Mrs. Potts. I just…I don't think I can hunt anymore. It makes me sick just thinking about it."
She frowned sadly. "I understand. But maybe you can try a little dinner tonight—Bouche will be quite distraught should his supper go to waste. Then we'll take things from there one step at a time, all right?"
He was quiet for a moment, but finally nodded. "Okay, I'll try a little. I…I am feeling pretty terrible, to be honest." He looked back down at his arms. "I guess this body can't survive off bread and vegetables alone."
"It seems not. Count your blessings though, love—I haven't had a taste of anything in years."
Adam watched the deer fall in the distance, the gun's blast still ringing in his ears.
"Excellent shot, my lord."
"Mmm," Adam hummed indifferently, swinging Fabien across his back as he padded into the forest to retrieve the fallen animal. He stared at it for a long moment from the shadows, a dull sickness in his stomach that came with the grim understanding of what it was like to be one of the hunted.
Despite his fears at the time, neither that man nor any other hunter had ventured into his woods since that frightening day, though he continued to monitor it by use of the enchanted mirror. Today, like all those days since, the woods were clear of intruders and he took the opportunity to replenish their supply while Belle was gone.
Adam rubbed subconsciously at the old wound in his leg. He was only now starting to realize how much of a turning point the experience had been. He wondered if it wasn't the reason he'd nearly lost all hope of ever breaking the curse. The first human he'd seen since his change—and the man had tried to kill him. But almost worse than that…he'd called him a monster. And Adam had let himself believe it.
"I don't believe being human is the same as being humane."
Adam smiled. Not a week of knowing him, and Belle had offered up those words. God, she's so wonderful, he thought warmly.
Fabien cleared his throat. "My lord…"
"Ah, sorry," Adam said, moving towards the kill in the clearing. He picked it up easily in one paw and fell upon his other, moving quickly back to the palace on three limbs and letting his thoughts return to the woman who'd left but a couple days earlier.
A sharp bark in the distance woke him from his thoughts, and he looked up quickly to see Belle herself watching him from atop Philippe as Max ran off the trail towards him.
"Adam?" Belle called out cautiously, and he realized it might be difficult for her to recognize him in the trees' heavy shadows.
He stood quickly, giving a short wave. "It's me."
She looked relieved, but there was still a strange look in her eyes as he moved closer. Adam worried for a moment it was fear, but further examination revealed something more akin to concern. He couldn't imagine why, though. "I'm sorry. I—I didn't expect you today," he explained quickly, embarrassed by the dead animal he carried that he was now forced to throw over his shoulder to avoid Max's eager jowls.
"No—no I'm sorry," she said, cheeks a bit pink. Though that could have easily been from the cold. "I returned earlier than I planned," she explained, glancing back in the direction she'd come before looking back at him. "I suppose…I missed you."
Adam's heart stopped in his chest, eyes growing wide in surprise.
"All of you! I missed all of you," she backtracked quickly, clearly flushing now. "I've gotten used to you all, it seems," she finished quietly, staring pointedly into her lap.
The old weapon against Adam's back gave him a sharp nudge. "W-we missed you too," he stammered, wishing they weren't in the presence of the living gun or Sire Gilles on her hip. Not to mention Max barking at a deer carcass.
They both looked away, silent for a long moment before Adam finally got his wits about him and reached for Philippe's reins to guide him back.
"Do you…like to hunt?" Belle asked after a few minutes.
"No," he answered bluntly. "I hate it, actually."
Adam couldn't quite make out her expression at that, but she seemed almost…relieved. "I'm sorry," she offered. "Perhaps…well, have you ever tried hunting fowl? Papa told me he prefers it."
"Not for a long time," Adam admitted. "To be honest, I don't like to waste the bullets on it. A deer just brings in a lot more meat at once, and we're running low on ammunition as it is."
Belle's mouth formed a small 'o' in understanding, before she smiled. "Adam," she said slowly. "You realize I could just go buy some more for you in town, right?"
Adam blinked twice as he registered her words. "…You could?" he finally breathed. He felt himself smiling too. "I mean, of course you could, I just…I can't believe I didn't think of that!"
Belle seemed amused by his enthusiasm.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "It's just, I was getting worried I'd have to starting hunting with my—" He stopped, staring at his claws.
"You may find some animal-like tendencies tend to increase over the years."
The witch's words always seemed to linger in the back of his mind. He realized he'd been doing everything in his power to prevent them from becoming true, but he still worried his efforts might be in vain in the end. What if he had to sink his bare claws…his fangs, into a deer's flesh? Would doing so finally awaken the beast inside?
He shuddered at the thought.
"Don't worry, you won't have to," Belle was saying, breaking through his thoughts. He looked over at where she sat in the saddle, her eyes full of understanding even though he hadn't said anything.
How is she so perfect? he wondered.
"Now that I think of it," Belle went on, "there are probably plenty of items we're running low on. Perhaps I'll make a trip into Beaumont to restock—I believe it's actually closer to here than Molyneaux, so it shouldn't be any trouble." Her spirits seemed to be growing by the minute. "In fact, now that you have me, you all shouldn't have to worry about supplies ever again!" she said proudly.
Adam's heart stopped at her words. Ever again? He was no longer thinking about the promised ammunition, but the fact that Belle planned to stick around long enough that he would never go without it. But that…that would mean his entire life.
Does Belle still plan to come here after her father returns? he wondered. Does…does she not plan to return to her normal life?
Adam's heart was now racing, and he glanced back at Belle as they continued down the trail. Given the spell wouldn't let him tell her, she still had no idea he could return to his human form. She must assume he'd be like this forever, always trapped in a hideous body, in his forested cage. Yet she had no intention to abandon him?
Maybe I'm misreading this, he wondered, but no matter how many ways he thought of what she'd said, it always led to that same conclusion. His chest felt light as a feather, and he somehow loved her even more than he had before.
And, suddenly, he felt ready to ask her something. Something he'd been hoping to ask for a long time now.
"Belle!" Chip cried, hopping clumsily across the table towards her. "Belle, you're just in time for Christmas!"
"Christmas?" Belle asked in shock, catching the little cup before he tumbled over the edge. "Already?"
Mrs. Potts laughed. "We're still a fortnight away, love," she told her grandson, before looking up at Belle warmly. "I'm afraid someone's quite eager for Papa Noël's visit this year."
"Come see the tree! Master just got it yesterday," Chip went on, urging Belle towards the stairs. She managed another smile, already grateful for the distraction of the castle as they moved up the steps and towards the library.
"Sacrebleu," Belle breathed as they entered the room. An enormous tree stood before the grand windows, the smell of fresh pines filling the space as a mess of boxes and wrappings laid scattered the across the floor. "How—how in the world did you get that inside?" she asked, staring at Adam in shock as he followed them into the room.
"Master carried it in all by himself!" Chip said excitedly.
Adam placed his hands behind his back and shrugged. "It wasn't so hard," he said, though Belle didn't miss the small smirk that crossed his face as he seemed to flex his arms a bit.
"And I picked it out," Chip went on, mirroring the pride of his master.
Belle nearly laughed at the two of them. "Well, you have an excellent eye for Christmas trees, Chip," she said warmly, feeling a bit more of the aching pain that had grown worse on her trip to town dissolving in their presence.
"Wanna help us decorate it?" the boy went on, not even letting her respond before hopping from her hands onto one of the boxes stacked before them. They watched him push the lid back with some effort before leaping inside.
"You'll be staying for the holidays…won't you?" Adam asked.
Belle looked over, catching familiar, hopeful blue eyes looking down at her. "Yes," she agreed quickly, too relieved to even offer the polite decline that etiquette required. "To be honest…and perhaps this is presumptuous of me, but I have little desire to return to the village any time soon," she explained, the thought of Gaston and his hunting trophies, the seclusion she'd felt over the couple days she'd spent there overwhelming her.
"Did something happen?" Adam asked anxiously, sensing her distress.
"No. Well, not really," she shrugged, biting her lip for a long moment before going on. "It's only…no one knows about Maman," she admitted, swallowing roughly. "And Gaston is so…" She shook her head. "I was just lonely, I suppose."
"…Then stay," Adam breathed. Belle felt something brush her fingers, looking down to see her hand caught between his large thumb and forefinger. She flushed, looking at his chest as he moved an inch closer. "In fact…I've been thinking."
"Y-yes?" she whispered.
"Well…why don't we pay someone to care for your home?" he asked matter-of-factly. "You mentioned your neighbors could use the income?"
Belle looked up at him, blinking. "Oh! Oh, um…yes, yes they could," she said belatedly, uncertain what she'd expected him to say. She bit her lip, brows furrowing. "But Adam, I still owe you so much—"
"Belle," he said warmly. "We both know that's not why you're here anymore."
She felt her cheeks growing warm, smiling a bit even as she looked away.
He seemed suddenly embarrassed himself, and cleared his throat. "Well, it's settled then," he said quickly. "Your neighbors will check in on your home, and you can return occasionally when you feel the need. But…but perhaps…" He trailed off, rubbing his thumb absently against the back of her hand as he, too, looked away. "Perhaps this can be your home. A-at least, until your father returns."
Belle felt her heart pick up a little. At least? She looked down at their hands, smiling a little at how small hers looked in his. She was still amazed at how someone so large could be so incredibly gentle. She smiled further, gripping his fingers in return. "I…I would like that very much."
He brightened immediately, ears perking up atop his head as he reached for her other hand. Belle bit her lip, trying not to laugh at him, enjoying the feeling of her hands in his and finding herself staring up into his warm eyes.
"Come on you guys!" someone cried. Belle and Adam both started, pulling away and looking over at once to see the little teacup hop out of the box filled with several tiny ornaments. "We're got lots of decorations to hang up!"
Belle chuckled, looking back up at her companion. To her shock, his face had fallen into dismay.
"What's wrong?" she asked in concern.
He looked down at her, sighing. "To be honest, I wasn't thinking about decorating the thing when we decided on such a large tree," he admitted in chagrin. "…It's probably going to take the whole day."
Belle smiled. "It's all right…I don't have anywhere to go."
Belle seemed to regain more and more of her innate brightness in the days leading up to Christmas. And as promised, she even brought one of their old wagons into Beaumont one morning for supplies. She rode back early that afternoon, heavy wheels grinding along the path, the wagon filled with supplies that the castle hadn't had access to since their own stores grew replete.
"I hope I got everything Chef Bouche wanted," she said nervously, checking over the list in her hands once more as Adam moved beside her. Chip fidgeted in his paws, anxious to take a peek at what Belle had brought, as were some of the older stable boys who rolled along behind him.
"Belle, can we help?" Aimé called out in his still-changing voice, the bucket nudging her ankles excitedly.
"Of course," she said happily. "You can look at everything except the box in the corner."
"W-what's in there, Belle?" Chip asked eagerly.
Belle suddenly had a wicked gleam in her eye. "Well, I met a peculiar stranger on my way back—had a long white beard, if I recall?" she said casually. "Quite a heavy pack, too, plus several huge bundles atop his donkey. I can't imagine what they contained."
Chip looked like he was going to burst from excitement. "You saw Papa Noël?!" he cried.
"Is that who it was?" Belle teased, barely containing her grin. Adam and the other adults nearby chuckled amongst themselves. "Well, I'm not sure, but he told me he had quite a delivery to make and asked if I wouldn't help with some of it."
By now, even the older boys were growing excited. They, of course, knew she was fibbing, but the prospect of presents from outside the castle was suddenly a very real possibility.
Adam and the others helped unload the wagon—well, he basically carried it all, but their efforts were appreciated. Boxes of spices for the chef, barrels of apples for the horses, brown paper and yarn for wrapping, yards of ribbon, spools of thread to repair the curtains in desperate need of mending, brand new tools and nails to replace those long since rusted, bottles of ink and stacks of fresh parchment, bushels of holly and laurels and even a bit of mistletoe that, against his will, made the tips of Adam's ears turn pink.
Setting down another crate, he pulled out one of several dozen bars of soap. "Should I be offended by this?" he asked in jest.
"Oh no, no!" Belle cried, waving her hands in front of her in embarrassment. "I-I just wasn't sure if—I mean, it just seemed like a basic—and the horses, they need—"
She stopped when she noticed Adam's grin, which earned him a very dramatic eye roll.
"Anyway," Belle went on, ignoring his chuckles as they headed back towards the wagon. "I was thinking the women could use the ribbon to dress up for the celebration, in a way. And now we can finally fix that gap in the storage barn's door," she went on, growing excited once again. "I can't believe I didn't think of this before! I hope I didn't forget anything, though I suppose I could just go back if we—"
"Belle, this is wonderful," Adam interrupted. And he meant it—it had been a long time since everyone had been so unanimously excited. Well…besides when Belle showed up in the first place.
She smiled a little shyly. "Well, it was your money, after all."
It was true he'd given her more to make the trip. "A lot of good it was doing us sitting here, though," he pressed. "Everyone's is such high spirits…all thanks to you."
Her own ears seemed to redden at that, though it was probably just from the cold. As they neared the wagon for the last time, Adam glanced at the remaining crate in the corner. "So…what is in the box?" he asked casually, though secretly just as interested as the boys.
Belle smirked as if she saw straight through his act, but didn't comment as she climbed into the back of the wagon. Looking around and finding the area bare of prying eyes, she pulled back the cover and attempted to tug off the crate's lid. Adam reached over and pried the nails from the wood with a claw, allowing her to move it aside and reveal several smooth boards resting in hay, each with strange patterns carved into the surface. A few pouches were tucked inside as well, and Belle untied the top of one to produce several small wooden blocks of different stains in Adams paw.
"It's called Conspirateurs—a board game of sorts."
"Like chess?" he asked, turning a few of the pieces over curiously with one claw.
"Sort of, and much simpler. In fact, I managed to beat the seller himself on our second round!"
Adam laughed. He wasn't really surprised.
"I've never seen it before," she went on excitedly. "And could only get it because of the vendors traveling through this time of year. I used to look at their wares each Christmastime, but of course we couldn't afford much of it then," she explained matter-of-factly, pulling a second board from the box. "Here's another—Agon, I believe it was called." She paused. "I was just—I was trying to think of something for Chip especially, where he could play but not worry about getting hurt," she explained, biting her lip. "Hopefully they'll enjoy this."
"It's perfect," Adam said, truly impressed with what she'd come up with. He glanced back in the wagon, noticing another bundle tucked against the corner. "What about that?" he asked curiously.
She undid the bag's thin string, pulling out four large ducks and displaying them proudly in each hand. "These are for us," she grinned.
Adam felt his mouth water. Roast duck! How long had it been?
Belle chuckled at his expression. "I thought you might be sick of venison after ten years."
"You were right," he admitted.
"And there should be more where that came from," she went on, climbing up to the seat and tugging out a final box from below. Adam reached over and pulled the heavy case from her hands, to which she sighed gratefully. Beneath its lid were the promised hunting bullets—enough to last a couple years, and even more if he was being careful.
"Thank you," he said sincerely. He knew it a strange thing to be so grateful for, and he knew it didn't matter if she were to break the spell in the end. But at the same time, that small box meant she understood his fears.
Belle smiled warmly, but only went on. "With this cold weather, the ducks will be moving away from the lake and hopefully into our woods," she noted, before pursing her lips. "Oh! I should have thought—we could get chickens too! Think of all the things Chef Bouche could cook with eggs. And I could even make you Maman's recipe for madeleines—" She suddenly stopped, expression falling in an instant as her words caught up with her.
Adam set the box down quickly and reached around the wooden plank where she sat. She buried her face in her hands.
"S-sorry," she said between her fingers.
Adam shook his head. "The first Christmas is hard," he said quietly, hesitating briefly before letting his arm reach around her shoulders. "It's okay if the holidays make you feel…sad."
She nodded, leaning into him. After a long moment she pulled away, looking up and letting two heavy tears fall down her cheeks before wiping them quickly away. "I'm worried about Papa," she admitted through a swollen throat. "At least…at least I'm here, with all of you. He's in a strange place, and he's all alone…"
Adam shook his head. "He's not alone."
"What?" Belle asked in confusion.
He tugged the enchanted mirror from his belt, where he'd started keeping it recently. "I, um, checked on him this morning," he explained. "One of the hospital nurses has invited him to her parents' home for the holidays. See?"
Without needing to ask, the mirror responded to his words, and Belle took it in her hands and watched as her father appeared in its surface. He sat in a small apartment, a couple children sitting in his lap as he read to them. Several adults were bustling around the kitchen, before a young woman moved over and beckoned Maurice and his little friends to supper.
"He won't be alone for Christmas," Belle breathed in relief.
Adam gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, letting her watch her father for another long minute. At last, he cocked his head at her. "Can I show you something else I figured out?" he asked.
Belle's eyes brightened as she nodded. He took the mirror back, and spoke. "Show me something spectacular."
Belle raised a brow at him. "That's…vague," she observed.
"But look…it works," he said earnestly, holding it between the two of them. The surface dissolved into darkness, bright lights suddenly flashing from the glass. Several loud, crackling booms immediately followed.
Belle gasped in shock. "What is that?"
"I'm not sure," Adam replied, just as surprised as she was. He hadn't been sure what they would see, either. When he'd asked the same question earlier, it had shown him the Taj Mahal.
Suddenly, the mirror's reflection changed again, the cover of a book titled Traité des feux d'artifice pour le spectacle appearing in its surface.
"Treatise on Fireworks," Belle read excitedly. "By Frézier, the explorer!" With their question answered, the mirror returned to the display of colorful lights. "I can't believe it," Belle went on. "They're so bright, and loud!" she laughed, covering her ears at the next blast.
Adam only stared at the mirror in some puzzlement, realizing the object seemed to be getting more and more of a mind of its own lately. "Yes…they are," he responded belatedly, shaken from his thoughts at the beautiful smile on Belle's face. He'd been nervous the mirror would hold too many bad memories for her after what had happened, but it seemed his worries were in vain.
"You had a busy morning," he observed. "How about we eat lunch…then spend the day seeing what else it will show us?"
She looked over, that smile now directed at him—and he realized she could have given him the Taj Mahal itself and it wouldn't have made him as happy.
"Belle?"
"Yes, Chip?" Belle asked, lifting a warm mug to her lips.
"Are you gonna marry Master?"
The sip of hot cider Belle had been taking turned into an enormous gulp, which was now sliding painfully down her throat as she attempted to recover. "P-pardon?" she choked out, cheeks flaming despite the bitter afternoon air.
"I just thought, since you two do lots of stuff together, that you were gonna be married soon," the little teacup explained in innocence.
"I-I don't…I mean, we…um…" She paused, looking around the gardens where they sat, but there were no living objects in sight. "Adam and I…we're just very good friends," she finally managed. At the words, however, an unpleasant feeling washed over her. Disappointment? she suddenly wondered.
Chip sagged in place. "Oh. I was only hoping you would, 'cause then you can live here with us forever."
Belle's heart melted a bit in understanding. "Oh, Chip. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere, okay?"
He brightened quickly. "You mean it?"
"Of course I mean it."
Brightening again, the little cup hopped down into the snow and hurried off to join some of the older boys out playing in the open field. Belle, for her part, remained in place, trying desperately to calm the burning that had now inched up her cheeks and into her ears.
Why am I so flustered? she thought anxiously. It was just an innocent question. We…we could never actually—
"How's the cider?"
"Eeep!" Belle cried, startled at the sight of Adam not a pace away, arms full of newly chopped firewood.
"Oh God, Belle—I'm so sorry," he said, stepping back quickly. "I didn't mean to frighten you, I thought you heard me coming…"
"No, no it's fine," she said in embarrassment. "I was just, um…lost in thought."
"Oh! What were you thinking about?" he asked with interest.
Most of the time, the fact that Adam actually cared about her thoughts was extremely refreshing. Right now, however, was not one of those times.
"Um…" Belle said dumbly, unable to reach for any excuse due to the fact that Chip's question presently occupied the entirely of her thoughts. "I was just thinking about…Chip," she managed at last. It wasn't a lie, after all.
"Mmm," he nodded, looking back out where the teacup was jumping around in the snow with some of the younger stable hands. "Don't worry, he'll be fine. The older boys know to be careful around him."
Belle let out a sigh of relief, but not for the reason Adam thought.
"Belle, do you want to go in? You look freezing."
She flushed further. "I-I do?"
"It's just…your cheeks. They're bright red," he said, before looking a bit flustered himself. "St-still…still nice, though," he added quickly.
"Oh," Belle replied, pressing her mittens to her face as she flushed further. "Yes…I suppose they're um, cold. Yes, very cold," she fibbed, skin burning beneath her hands in further embarrassment.
"You might be getting wind burn," he said with concern, growing serious again as he looked back out towards the distant peaks, now shrouded in dark clouds. A strong gust blew through his fur as he frowned. "I think there's another storm blowing in tonight. In fact, I should probably get everyone inside before it starts." He stopped in his musings, looking back at her. "Could you help me do a headcount?"
Belle finally smiled. "Of course," she replied. Adam nodded gratefully, moving to deposit the stack of wood in his arms near the back door before heading back out into the courtyard to bring the others inside.
Belle's smile grew as he walked off, her embarrassment from before slowly ebbing away. When it came to the safety of the palace residents, one could always expect Adam to grow extremely attentive, almost to the point of single-mindedness. Belle couldn't help but find it endearing, and sometimes wondered how that kind of watchful leadership would have been applied as their kingdom's ruler, had he been given the chance.
He's a protector, she realized, chest flooding with warmth at the realization, thoughts turned back to an old memory.
"What did you think of Aurore, Belle?"
The six year-old thought for a moment, and smiled. "She was brave," she stated simply.
"Brave, mm? And what makes you say so?"
"She—she didn't give up, even when it looked like things would be really bad."
"Ah, that is brave," Papa agreed, closing the tale of Aurore and Aimée in his lap before giving his daughter a squeeze. Belle giggled in response, hugging him back.
"Everyone has something about them that makes them special, Belle," Papa went on. She looked up from where she sat in his lap, eyes wide and attentive. "Aurore…shall we call her a believer?"
Belle nodded happily.
"Then you've got your adventurers, your creators, your peacemakers…your protectors," he went on, before leaning close to whisper. "But your Maman's one of the best."
"What is she?" Belle asked eagerly.
"She's a giver," Papa said with warmth. "Has been since the day I met her. Always willing to give of herself for everyone around her. Wouldn't you agree?"
The six year-old thought for a moment, before nodding eagerly. "Like how she's helping the triplets' maman right now," she observed.
"Exactly," Papa said. "You are a bright girl, you know." He paused, expression softening as he looked towards the dark window. "She's already given so much to me, to you, but she never stops. I'm afraid I'll never catch up to her," he said, looking back down and giving Belle a wink.
At that, the door opened, a sharp breeze blowing into the warm room. "Maman!" Belle cried, jumping off her father's lap and running into the woman's legs.
Her mother laughed. "Did you two have fun while I was gone?"
"Yes!" Belle exclaimed.
"And how many books did you read?" she went on, eyeing the piles now pulled from the shelves and scattered along the floor.
"Papa read five, and I read three all by myself," Belle said with pride. "A-and guess what? Papa told me you're a giver!"
"Oh, that again," Maman replied, though she looked up at her husband with a warm smile.
"What about you, Papa?" Belle went on, turning around again. "What are you?"
He stood from the sofa, resting his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest in mock pride. "I'm an inventor, of course!"
Maman and Belle both laughed. "I would go with innovator, my love," his wife suggested.
"Ah, yes, that has a nice ring to it."
"What about me?" Belle asked seriously.
"Mmm," Papa hummed, moving over and crouching beside her. "There's still time to see, but if you ask me," he said, pausing for a moment. "You're a seeker."
"A seeker?"
He nodded. "A seeker of truth. A seeker of wisdom. A seeker of beauty," he explained, glancing towards the dozens of small drawings now hanging by a string along the wall. When he looked back at her, his eyes were thoughtful. "A seeker of good."
As the memory faded, Belle looked back across the grounds. Surrounding Adam was a small party of objects, all heading back towards the castle as the winds started to pick up bits of loose snow from the grounds.
They are good, Belle thought to herself. This place is good.
She watched the large man as he padded across the grounds—for he was a man in her eyes, and had been for some time—and thought of the ways he not only protected those under his watch, but cared for her in ways she had never felt cared for before. Her heart swelled with a strong, new warmth.
Adam is good.
"Dearest, are you all right?"
Belle jolted in place, looking up from where she sat cross-legged in the center of the bed. She'd thought the wardrobe was asleep. "Yes! Perfectly fine," she said quickly, voice a bit higher than normal.
"Just wide-awake at half-past one in the morning?" the woman chuckled.
"I was, um…I was just thinking," she shrugged. "I suppose I lost track of the hour."
"Well, there's plenty of time for thinking during the day! Don't neglect that beauty sleep of yours," the woman winked, giving a rather loud yawn before settling back against the wall where she stood.
Belle nodded, crawling back inside the covers and trying to take the advice to heart. As the small mantle clock struck two and she remained wide awake, however, she realized it was no use.
She just couldn't stop thinking about him.
Of course, Adam usually had a prominent place in her thoughts. Such was normal when you spent a significant portion of your time with a person. But she hadn't thought about him like this before—wishing he was there to hold her close, to brush his fingers through her hair, to hold her hands in his and whisper sweet nothings in her ear all while watching her with those blue, knowing eyes—
I'm being silly, Belle chided herself, sucking in a deep breath and blowing a stray bit of hair from her eyes. She tugged at the robe around her shoulders, burying her face in the soft fabric and letting its familiar scent calm her—
Belle froze in place, registering exactly what she was doing. What she was wearing.
Or, more specifically, the giant robe of the person she had been trying very hard not to think about that currently encased her head to toe. The robe she hadn't been able to sleep without since its owner left it with her.
Sacrebleu, she realized, cheeks burning. I have feelings for him.
She grinned in spite of herself, realizing how deep her denial had become until this moment. At once, it was as though the floodgates had opened, her chest filling with an overwhelming warmth that left her smiling stupidly beneath the sheets.
All right, so he's no Prince Charming, she admitted. Belle wrinkled her nose at that, recalling how Cinderella's prince had always seemed a bit daft to her anyway. Handsome or not, who wanted a man who couldn't even recognize the woman he loved without checking her shoe size?
Belle shook her head, trying to focus. She knew this was about more than looks. Adam might have been human on the inside, but he obviously wasn't on the outside. None of this mattered in a platonic relationship, but, well…there were definitely some challenges it would present in a romantic one.
It's so unfair! Belle thought, her anger with that wicked enchantress filling her chest once again. Would Adam really have to be alone forever just because of some ruthless curse? And would she have to accept a life without him because of it?
A life with someone else?
Belle felt suddenly sick. The thought made her miserable.
As though sensing her distress, she felt a quiet tapping against the mattress. Peaking over the edge were Max's dark eyes, a soft whine of concern sounding in the quiet room as he nudged a wet nose into her hand.
Belle smiled a bit, running a hand over his head to assure him she was all right, letting the quiet of night and her canine companion calm her thoughts.
You know what, who cares about the curse, she decided at last, suddenly full of determination. Maybe this wasn't exactly orthodox. Maybe Adam had a…unique body. Maybe he was covered in fur, with horns and fangs and the feet of a wolf. But the way he spoke, the way he smiled, the way he touched her—those were all utterly, unmistakably human.
Whatever challenges this would present...they could make it work.
That is, if he even wants this too, a voice in Belle's head reminded her. She frowned. Adam was a prince, after all. Maybe he didn't mind befriending a peasant, but courting one was an entirely different matter.
She remembered his fingers against her palm. "Perhaps this can be your home."
I…I think he might like me, she thought, chewing her lip nervously.
Or maybe he was just being nice, the voice suggested. Belle thought of the way Adam treated everyone else—maybe she was reading too far into the thoughtful actions that were simply part of his nature.
I have no idea what I'm doing, do I? Belle realized, flushing brighter and burying her face back in her pillow. This feeling—it was both exciting and tormenting at the same time.
Now finding sleep completely impossible, Belle soon slid carefully from the sheets, removing the large robe from her shoulders and sliding her arms through her own. Tugging on some thick socks and sliding her feet into a pair of house slippers, she tip-toed silently past the sleeping wardrobe and into hall with Max at her heels.
Adam heard her coming from a ways off—he couldn't help it, for his hearing was highly acute, especially now that the storm had calmed. At first, he worried she was sleepwalking again, but the sound of Max's quiet footfalls alongside hers erased his worries. Instead, he waited for her with a strange eagerness, trying to focus on the book in his hands but failing to grasp any of the letters on the page. He sometimes wondered if Belle shared his habit of visiting the library when she couldn't sleep, but they'd never yet encountered one another here.
As soon as the library door cracked open, he heard Max slip in before her, rushing over to where he sat. He leaned over, giving the mutt a good rub behind the ears before looking back up at the woman who approached.
"Adam!" Belle said in surprise, taking a step back as she rounded the side of the couch. "I was just…I couldn't sleep, and…I'm sorry, I d-didn't expect to see…" She trailed off, chewing her lip madly and staring at the floor.
"It's all right," he said, a bit puzzled by her reaction. "…Did the storm wake you earlier? It was quite loud."
She pursed her lips. "Um…perhaps," she conceded, still not meeting his eyes.
Adam sensed her discomfort, something he hadn't felt from her since their very first encounter. He frowned, starting to worry as he thought over the day. She had seemed more…skittish, than normal. Did I do something to upset her? he wondered anxiously. To frighten her?
He looked into his lap, wondering if he should leave and give Belle the solitude she had probably come here seeking. As he started to stand, however, she spoke.
"You're leaving already?"
Now thoroughly perplexed, Adam shook his head slowly. "Just, um…getting a new book," he decided, moving to the bookcase beside the hearth and absently grabbing another novel before returning to the sofa.
Belle had finally settled down herself, arms resting on the sofa's back as she stared over towards the tall windows across the room. "It's still snowing," she observed quietly.
"Yes," Adam breathed, though his eyes hadn't left her. She didn't wear her hair down much during the day, but right now it sat in soft waves around her shoulders framing pretty cheeks that glowed in the light of the fire. She looked like an angel.
"Want to watch it?"
"Hmm?" he said, shaken from his reverie.
"The snow…" Belle explained with some shyness, though she smiled. "I…I was thinking of going over to watch it. Do you want to—"
Feeling suddenly mischievous, Adam stood before she could finish and picked up the couch with ease. Belle, to his amusement, squealed in surprise as she clutched the armrest, though he wouldn't have let her fall off as he carried it over to the large windows and let it rest back on the floor. Even then, Belle was having difficulty containing her laughter.
"Shhh," he chuckled, leaning down close. "You're going to wake the whole household."
"Y-your fault," she managed through her giggles. "Besides, you—you made me lose a slipper!" she declared adamantly.
As if on demand, Max padded over with said-slipper in mouth, setting it on the ground before curling up by Belle's feet. Still feeling playful, Adam dropped to one knee and picked it up, before cocking a head at her.
Belle looked surprised, but slowly offered up one stockinged foot in response. He slid the slipper on in mock reverence.
"It fits," he teased.
Instead of laughing, however, Belle only stared at him, looking almost…amazed. And Adam was suddenly aware of what he had just implied. It was but a moment before she smiled again, but instead of mirth, her eyes seemed full of thought. Unsure what to make of it, and now feeling a bit sheepish himself, Adam simply stood and settled quietly beside her.
They turned towards the tall windows at once, and Adam was soon distracted by the view before them, more breathtaking than he'd expected. Moonlight fell through a few patches in the clouds, illuminating the gardens and the trees visible from the library's third-floor overhang. The snowfall was silent, even to his ears, and the faint reflection of the Christmas tree behind them sent a warm, nostalgic feeling into his chest.
Belle must have felt the same, or at least he assumed—she stared unblinking at the scene, chest rising for a long moment before she sighed in content. "I love it here," she breathed.
I love you here.
When she looked back at him, Adam panicked for a moment that he'd spoken the words aloud. But she only smiled warmly before looking back outside. Something beside him shifted as she did so, and he noticed her hand now resting oddly close to his knee.
Adam furrowed his brows briefly before his eyes popped open. Oh! he realized in shock. Does…does she want me to… He felt his entire body growing warm, his paw tense and unyielding to his mind which commanded it to move. What's wrong with me? he thought in mild panic. He could hold her while she cried, but he couldn't reach out to touch those fingers in this innocent moment?
But that was just it. With every touch, every embrace up until now he could fall back on the same excuse—that she'd needed the comfort of a friend. Or at least transportation into a bunker or up a tree. In this moment, however, he had no excuse. In this moment…it would mean something more.
Adam knew—or hoped, rather—that had he possessed his human form he'd show a bit more courage at such a simple prospect. But the innate doubt that anyone could really care for him as he was still lingered, however reduced from its original state, and didn't quite let him act. What if I try and she pulls away? he thought anxiously. What if I'm misreading this, what if I ruin what we already—
His thoughts stopped as her fingers began curling back slowly. He looked up; Belle was biting her lip, a look he'd come to recognize as disappointment sweeping over her face as she cast her eyes to the floor.
That was enough. Before her hand could fully retreat, he captured it in his own. His paw was so large he still wasn't sure what to do with it, but such worries disappeared as her fingers brushed up his palm and tucked themselves carefully between a couple of his knuckles. His heart was beating so fast that he nearly missed Belle's reaction—cheeks flushed brighter than he'd ever seen them, stealing an unusually shy glance up at him before staring out at the snow. Grateful she didn't spot the stupid smile now spreading over his face, Adam inched up beside her, pulling their joined hands into his lap. She let her head rest against him.
They sat like that for a long time, fingers brushing palms, an unspoken understanding between them that something was there now.
Something that wasn't there before.
A/N – Welcome Riene, Raining Constellations, DrAutumn123, gisela19wwe, whovalista, Belle, hisgirlwednesday447, I'm meaner than I look, and guests to the comment brigade! Love you all.
