How Do You Define Success?

Only when he picked up the spoon did Adam realise that being human might require a few more adjustments than purely his wardrobe or posture. As the Beast, he had taken weeks to painstakingly learn how to hold the tiny implement in his oversized hand, to have a nice meal with Belle the day before his birthday. That in itself was still something to get used to - that two days ago they were dancing in the ballroom, and this time yesterday he was the Beast, believing Belle would never come back. And now, here she was sitting opposite him, and here he was human again. Things couldn't be more different.

And yet, as he lost his already delicate grasp on the spoon, Adam was forced to admit that some things stayed the same. He huffed - he was human again, this was supposed to be natural, now! A small cough from Belle caught his attention.

"For old times sake?" she asked, lifting her bowl the same way she had earlier that winter.

"Thank you," he smiled, lifting his own. "Although," he said after the first sip, "I shouldn't have to do this. I'm a grown man - I should know how to use a spoon, for crying out loud!"

"I think everybody's going to have a bit of a learning curve," Belle said. She smiled brightly, looking back down at her porridge.

"What is it?" he asked, suddenly thankful that he had that right.

"What?"

"You were smiling."

"I'm just - happy, I guess. The word doesn't seem strong enough for what I'm feeling, to be honest." She reached her hand out, across the table. Adam put his out at the same time, their fingers twining together.

"I know the feeling," he murmured.

Belle was smiling again - and Adam knew that a matching expression was on his face. The two of them managed to finish their breakfast one-handed without any mishaps, and soon enough they were getting up from the breakfast table.

"Belle," he said, "can I ask you something?"

"Of course," she said. "Anything."

Here goes, he thought. No need to be nervous - you know she loves you! He took her hand in both of his loosely, silently marvelling at how easy it was to hold her now. "Belle," he started. "You know I love you." The affection in her eyes at the words did something funny to his heart - something strange, but wonderful. "And you know that - well, not only did you save me, but you've made me so happy, these last three months."

"You've loved me for three months?" Belle asked, half-teasing.

"Well - your general presence made the entire castle happy in general for the first month; the last two, I've been happy, specifically, for the last two," he said. "Now, let me finish," he laughed.

"Alright," she smiled.

"Anyway - I want to say that - all the happiness you've given me? I'd spend a lifetime trying to give you just as much." Belle was still smiling, but there was something a little hesitant about her smile now. "I - I mean, just as much as you give me, I'll try and give to you - and that's not even accounting for the head start you've got, on the happiness, so I'd need to get ahead on three months of happiness, which honestly I think I'll need the rest of my life to catch up on . . . and you're staring, why are you staring?"

"You're babbling," she said, the smile gone.

"Wow - I haven't done that since I was a kid!" Adam said, his ears beginning to burn. "Nervous habit, I guess - and look, there I go talking about happiness like it's a checking book and not like it's something I want to do because I love you -"

"You're asking me to marry you," Belle realised.

"Yes," Adam said, his heart pounding. "So?" he asked, biting his lip.

Belle took a moment to think. He was pleased at that, even amidst his anxiety - that she wasn't blindly saying yes or no. She lifted his hands, and kissed the knuckles quietly. When she lifted her eyes, he could see the answer written in them.

"I see," he said.

"It's not because I don't love you - I do, you know I do," Belle said quickly. "It's just - this has all happened so fast. And my father is still ill, although he's out of immediate danger."

"I'm sorry - I didn't even think about that," he said. "I should have asked his permission first."

"It wouldn't stop me from deciding either way," Belle said decisively, a tiny frown on her face.

"I know," Adam said. "But I think he'd appreciate it."

Belle hummed in agreement. "And - well . . . I feel like - like I almost need to get to know you again. As who you are as a man. I've had to remind myself of your name a few times already today, and . . . it doesn't seem fair to you."

"It's me you love, Belle," he chuckled. "I don't mind if it's fair or not."

"I'm not saying no - I don't want to say no," she continued. "But . . . could you ask me again later?"

"Of course," he said. "Just - one other question."

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Belle answered for him, stepping forwards and pulling him down into a sweet, short kiss - a kiss that promised a new beginning for the both of them.

Two months later, Adam carried Belle's words with him like a precious jewel. I've given some thought to what you said the day after your birthday, and I'll let you know what I've decided when you come back. They buoyed him up through the funeral, through the awkward court meetings, through the stiff dinners with Charmant and his wife, whose eyes contained an iron strength that Adam had only seen in three other people. He didn't know what had happened to put it there, and he knew that now was not the time to find out. Throughout that week, however, any doubts he might have had about his brother's choice of wife vanished entirely. Eléonore, while a quiet woman, was also graceful and kind, and even managed to make Charmant smile once.

The night before he was due to return, Charmant turned in early, and Adam found himself alone in the drawing room with Eléonore. She was embroidering by the fire; what it was exactly he couldn't tell, but he assumed it contained flowers, since he could see the vibrant colours of thread she was using. Adam, as usual, was reading. When his eyes fell shut for the third time, he decided to concede defeat and go to bed. However, when he emerged from the book, he found his sister-in-law staring at him intently, as if she was trying to puzzle him out.

"Madame," he said, bowing his head.

"You don't need to do that," she said. "You know what I was before I married your brother; respect from people who don't mean it is not required."

"What do you mean?" Adam asked, confused. "My brother hasn't said anything about 'what you were'; truthfully, he's barely spoken to me all week."

"Oh," Eléonore said. "I see." She turned back to her embroidery, but he could tell that she was embarrassed by her outburst.

"Madame," he repeated. "I don't know what Charmant has said about me, but I assure you, I'm not the same person I was ten years ago. Whatever is in your past, I won't judge." Adam thought that would be the end of it. Instead, she laid her needle-work aside.

"I am a peasant," she said plainly. "My father was a gentleman, but misfortune fell on us when I was a child. All we were left with was our name. He remarried for money; I would have understood, indeed, I do understand; but Lady Tremaine was not a kind woman. She and her daughters belittled me, mocked me, and abused me. After my father died, I became a servant in my own home. I managed to meet your brother at his coming-of-age ball six years ago, and although he never learned my name that night, we were married not long afterwards. The court thinks I married him for his money and titles, and I understand the way it looks, but I love your brother very much." She calmly went back to her needle-work when she was finished.

"Why did you tell me this?" Adam asked.

"Everybody else here already knows," Eléonore shrugged. "What's one more person?" Adam kept looking, convinced that her gentle voice was hiding something. He was proven right a moment later, when he saw a tear fall down her cheek.

"Madame, I don't look down on you for your background. I love a peasant girl myself." She looked up, clearly shocked. Adam couldn't help but chuckle. "Her name is Belle; her father's an inventor, and she loves to read. We met five months ago, when I was still cu . . . indisposed," he said, annoyed at himself for the slip-up. "She helped me find myself, to become a better person; her love saved my life." Literally, he added in his head. "She says that the library at the castle is payment enough," he joked. To his surprise, Eléonore laughed. He smiled; it was a novel thing, making somebody other than Belle happy.

"She sounds like a wise woman. Have you been married long?"

His face fell. "I asked her, two months ago, but she wanted to wait a while. Everything had changed so quickly - she was right to wait. I feel like I know her better now than I did even then. And I've since asked for her father's permission, as well. But she said, before I left, that she had an answer for me. And if she wanted to say no, she'd come out and say it straight away." Belle's face as she told the story of Gaston's proposal was not one Adam was likely to forget. "But I love her, Madame - and she loves me, too."

"Eléonore," she said suddenly.

"Pardon?"

"You can call me by name, if you'd like to. I'd like to call you by yours, too," she said. "I've always wanted to have a sibling, and my stepsisters were . . . well, awful." She smiled nervously. "Would you mind being my brother? I'll give you some good, sisterly advice."

"Actually, I think I'd quite like that," Adam said. "You're a good woman, Eléonore. I'd be honoured to be your brother."

"Legally, you are," she said. He smiled, although he got the feeling she hadn't been joking. "I have a feeling I'll be meeting this Belle very soon," Eléonore said. "But I have a question; what happened two months ago that changed so much? And how did her love safe your life?"

Adam felt a pit drop out of his stomach. Here it was; the first person to spot a hole in their story, and he was the one who'd caused the hole in the first place! And yet, even as he started panicking, something about Eléonore's story didn't seem right, either.

"How did a girl who was forced to be a servant manage to dance with the Crown Prince of France? And how did he find you if you never swapped names?"

Eléonore paled. "You'd never believe me," she said.

"You wouldn't believe me, although Charmant would certainly be able to back me up on certain points." Adam wasn't sure what he was doing, exactly, but he had a feeling that it was something like how Belle had put together the pieces of his curse. "Eléonore, do you read your son fairy tales?"

"Does Belle read them with you?"

Adam and Eléonore spent the next hour and half in the drawing room, swapping stories and sharing relief that they weren't alone in being touched by magic in a world otherwise so mundane. The next day, when he returned home, she embraced him before he left.

"Just propose as soon as you can," she whispered in his ear. "I want to meet this Belle sometime this year!"

He smiled at her, kissed her cheek, and was up in the coach in a matter of moments. The levity he had felt with his sister-in-law didn't detract from the grief he felt for the loss of his father. However, he had to admit that she had a point.

Three weeks after the funeral, he was having trouble sleeping again. The nightmares that had plagued him since the transformation had started up again after the King's death, and Adam was finding his nights were, more often than not, sleepless. Tonight, however, he was fed up of trying to sleep in his bed for hours on end. He grabbed his dressing gown, the book he was currently reading, and set off to the library.

It was dark in the library, but not as dark as he had expected. A candle was burning low beside one of the sofas; on said sofa was Belle, in her own dressing gown and nightdress, squinting in order to read her book by the candlelight.

"Hi," he said softly.

"Adam," she said, a smile lighting up her face. "Couldn't sleep?"

"No," he said simply. He sat next to her, and Belle pulled him further down the couch, until he was low enough for his head to rest on her shoulder. His hands settled at her waist; one of hers was draped around his back while the other stroked his hair. "You?"

"Not really," Belle said. "What are you reading?"

"Poetry - English poetry, actually." She hummed, intrigued. "Charmant sent it; he seems to think that because he is meeting the English Ambassador that I need a refresher as well."

"Who's the poet?" Belle asked. "Have I heard of him?"

"Acton Bell?" Adam said. "I think his brother wrote the book you like - 'Jane Eyre'?"

"Oh! Currer Bell's brother?" He could hear Belle's heart pick up in her excitement. "I haven't read his poetry, but I did like 'Agnes Grey'."

"One line stuck out to me," Adam said. "'But he that dares not grasp the thorn/Should never crave the rose'." He didn't need to point out their long and tangled history with roses to Belle. Sometimes, he wondered who was who - if the rose was his freedom, and the thorns his self-discovery and work - or if he was the rose, and Belle had to grasp with some of his less desirable traits despite there being better men in the world for her to love.

"Adam - I love you," Belle said suddenly. "I love you so much, and I don't think I ever want to be without you." Adam started to turn around, supporting himself on his arms as he twisted to face Belle. "You said once that you wanted to give me happiness. Well - it would give me great happiness, if I could just be with you, always." She was crying now, little shuddering sobs.

"Yes," Adam whispered.

"Are you proposing?" Belle asked, a tiny smile on her face.

"I think, my love, that you beat me to it," Adam said, a few tears of his own leaking out. He moved his face close, until their foreheads were pressed together, their lips inches away. "But if you insist, will you -"

Belle cut him off with a kiss.

He knew what her answer was, anyway.

A/N: 'Sup! A Rose's Thorn was just bumming me out (sorry guys, I'll get back to it asap), but here - have this fluffy little piece I've been meaning to write anyway. The Proposal Story was one I deliberately left blank for a while, and I'm glad I did; I like this much better than whatever I would have written in 2013.

I know I kind of went on a tangent there in the middle with Cinderella, but I've wanted to do more with the crossover potentials for a while now. I feel like this Adam and Cinderella would bond quite nicely over curses and spells. Eléonore is the French form of Eleanor, but I wanted to distance myself from 'Ella' a bit since the live-action film came out, and I'm writing about the animated film.

Also, yes, I used the Anne Bronte quote that everybody and their mother uses when writing about Beauty and the Beast, sue me (please don't!). It was published under her pseudonym, Acton Bell; those of you who like the Bronte's will know that Currer Belle is actually her sister, Charlotte (Emily was known as Ellis). And I have to say that this proposal was slightly inspired by Monica and Chandler's proposals in F.R.I.E.N.D.S., which I was watching earlier today.

Title from The Proclaimers, 'Let's Get Married' (how many times can I include Scottish stuff in fanfiction before it officially gets old?)

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