(A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, I've been quite ill recently, but I'm almost back to full health so expect much more frequent updates to this story.)
Author Replies:
The Green Archer: Yes, the BatB comics are such a good supplement to the animated movie, coupled with the backstory in BatBEC, deleted scenes and the original novelization of BatB, they provide a great resource for fleshing out many of the characters and events that occurred before and during the movie, I've spent a lot of time making notes out of them.
I'm glad you enjoyed the post-bird feeding scene, it was so much fun to write, and yes, Belle is nobody's fool. I've always thought during the movie, even with every opportunity to escape, she was drawn to the mystery of Beast and his castle and as long as she was held to her word and her father was in no danger, curiosity and sympathy for Beast and the castle staff's potential plight played a part in her motivations. But that's just a theory. Thank you for reading.
nandosqueen: Thank you very much, I'm doing my best and I'm so glad you've enjoyed everything so far, thank you for reading!
Deux cœurs étrangers: Chapter 7
Three days before Christmas, Beast was engaging in a task most enjoyable, guiding Belle around the castle. He wanted to show her where the chamber musicians were currently residing.
Belle had mentioned in passing at breakfast, that she had learnt to play the harp from an old blind man who rented the room above her father's house in Paris but had never owned a harp before.
Excitedly Beast knew this was something sure to please Belle again, perhaps charm her towards him ever more so she would fall in love with him the way he was starting to fall for her. In his enthusiasm, Beast started to almost run down the halls and Belle grabbed tighter onto his paw so as not to tumble over the skirts of her blue and golden yellow gown and onto the fine carpet.
"Why do we have to run?" Belle inquired with a laugh at her captor who was slowly turning into a friendly acquaintance. Beast looked down at her with a wide smile and shook his head. "Is it another surprise? An even bigger library this time, perhaps?" She teased.
Beast shook his head again as Belle reached up with her free hand to tuck back strands of her hair that had fallen out. "No. Something even better," he assured her.
The bright-eyed Beast's childlike exuberance was contagious for the young woman being guided by the red-cloaked enchanted prince, and Belle increased her pace as well as they both laughed, one in anticipation, the other in surprise at that this was the same creature that had terrified her and imprisoned her nearly a month ago.
Reaching the room, Beast pushed open the door and dozens of bright eyes greeted the arriving pair in the semi-darkness.
"Bonjour, your highness. Bonjour, Mademoiselle Belle." There was a chorus of voices and Beast smiled at Belle before rushing over to the covered curtains and throwing them open, letting the light come streaming into the small chamber.
Revealed at last were the various instruments and other enchanted object players of music, assembled and shinning in a semi-circle, placed in front of them chairs were laid out and the entire place was spotless, the castle servants had been quite diligent.
"My goodness! Bonjour," Belle greeted the assembled instruments. Beast rushed back over to take Belle's arm and introduce her to some of the instruments, and the other enchanted objects.
"This is Michel, my valet," Beast introduced the coat rack with the violin, who bowed deeply, Belle inclined her head and Beast introduced the next few instruments he knew the names of, the ones he didn't know introduced themselves to Belle. "And this is my compositeur, Maestro de Majestueux," the flute on the composer's stand bowed.
"And this is Monsieur Ficelle de Harpe," Beast introduced the large golden harp to Belle, her eyes widened as the instrument smiled kindly.
"The Master has inquired on his behalf if you would consent to play me. He says you have skill with the harp," the former harp player invited.
Belle looked surprised and smiled up at Beast, who was looking anxiously at her. "If you do not mind yourself Monsieur Ficelle de Harpe, I would be most pleased to do so," she agreed and walked over to sit down on the stool beside the instrument. Beast sat down on one of the elaborate chairs in front of the young woman and swished his tail happily.
Pausing for a moment, Belle looked over the assembled musicians and blushed a little, "I really don't know what to play," she thought for a moment, then looked over at Maestro de Majestueux. "Do you know Greensleeves?"
The Maestro nodded his head, "Of course, Mademoiselle," he tapped his metal head on the top of the stand and the instruments began softly and Belle gently plucked the strings. Beast began to hum in tune, and Belle looked up in astonishment as she saw the enchanted Prince mouthing words that slowly became soft whispers in English of all languages.
"…delighting in your company, Greensleeves you…" Beast trailed off when he saw Belle had stopped plucking the harp and was studying him with a cautious gaze as the rest of the musicians also halted their playing. "Belle? Why did you stop?"
The young woman rested her hands on the top of Ficelle with a raised eyebrow, "I didn't know there were any lyrics for Greensleeves. Do you speak English?" She changed her language to English, and Beast nodded his head, the memories of other languages had been slowly coming back to him.
"A little. I used to be almost fluent in it," the enchanted prince replied, in unknowingly perfect English. Belle raised her eyebrows further and Beast swiftly changed the subject. "Mrs Potts," Beast switched back to French to answer Belle's other question, "taught me English practically from the cradle. She taught me the words to Greensleeves long ago."
Belle watched Beast rest his paws on his knees and cocked her head to the side. "Would you sing them for me?" She invoked softly, Beast shook his head and the young woman persisted. "Oh please?"
Beast looked sadly at Belle, "I have a horrible voice."
Shaking her own head, the mademoiselle got up from the stool and took his paws in her hand, "No you don't, I heard you before. You have a lovely voice. Please? It would help my playing," she begged.
Beast sighed deeply and looked down at the beautiful, pleading gaze. Blessed Lord help me, I can't refuse her anything, he thought embarrassedly, nodding in resign. Belle beamed a wide smile at him and walked back to sit down at her simple wooden stool.
"From the beginning please," Maestro Majestueux instructed the instruments, who were all but staring at their Master. "From the beginning!" The composer barked out, startling the musicians who promptly began to play again.
Belle plucked the strings of the harp patiently, her brown eyes fixed on Beast.
Clearing his throat, the Prince threw away the thought of how much he had avoided singing even Christmas carols and the forced hymns at mass and began to sing.
"Alas, my love, you do me wrong,
To cast me off discourteously.
For I have loved you well and long,
Delighting in your company."
Beast's singing voice was an eloquent baritone and very tone perfect. Belle couldn't take her eyes off the owner of the beautiful voice coming from the fanged mouth, her fingers travelled over the strings of the harp in the familiarity of playing the tune years ago.
"Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,
And who but my Lady Greensleeves."
The enchanted Prince lifted his downcast eyes to rest on Belle, their gaze meeting and the young woman, with more than a bit of a blush as Beast sang the second verse.
"Your vows you've broken, like my heart,
Oh, why did you so enrapture me?
Now I remain in a world apart
But my heart remains in captivity.
Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,
And who but my Lady Greensleeves."
Beast furrowed his brow as he tried to remember the next verses of the song, there might have been more verses, but there was only two more he could remember, and the final verse wasn't one of them.
Belle lifted her gaze back on him as they continued to play, waiting for him to chime back in, sighing deeply the enchanted Prince continued.
"I have been ready at your hand,
To grant whatever you would crave,
I have both wagered life and land,
Your love and goodwill for to have.
Beast went to sing the chorus and he found his voice joined by a very sweet addition, looking up he saw Belle joining in the final chorus.
"Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,
And who but my Lady Greensleeves."
The musicians played their last and Belle plucked the final strings and let the final notes hang in the air.
Beast rubbed his mouth nervously. "I'm sorry, I don't remember the last verse and I'm sure there were more…"
Belle smiled shyly and got to her feet, "It's all right. You do sing beautifully–"
"So do you," Beast interrupted, with a little more exuberance than he intended, and he dropped his gaze with a blush hidden under his fur cover cheeks.
Belle continued with a wry smile, "Thank you. Perhaps, as I was going to say, Mrs Potts could remind you about the other verses," she moved to sit down beside him and took his paw.
"You mustn't always be so sorry for things that you cannot do, what matters is what you can do. What is so good about you, Beast, is that I can see something so pure and kind in your eyes." Belle smiled kindly. "What matters most about a person, truly, is what is inside."
Beast wanted to throw himself into Belle's arms and cry until all his tears were spent, Say you care for me, Belle, he thought pleadingly. Instead of voicing his thoughts, Beast forced a smile and got to his feet. "I…I'll leave you to take Philippe for his exercise. Thank you, Belle," he moved to leave, and Belle reached out for his paw again and squeezed it.
"Please stay, Beast, don't run off with such a sad expression. Tell me, what is troubling you?"
The enchanted prince hesitated, he wanted to tell her everything, but couldn't. "I…I perhaps we can talk later, in the library," Beast couldn't deal with the churning emotions that had flooded him. The expression of pity on Belle's face was too much. It wasn't the same emotion that he was feeling for her and it was tearing him up inside.
All but snatching away his paw, Beast bolted out of the room, all his goodwill and excitement going. It was possible she could see in his eyes, (that had never changed even with his transformation,) who he really was, who he could be. But still, it was on a level of pitying him as one pitied an injured animal.
There was no rampant desire like he felt for her.
-:-:-:-
Beast eventually arrived at his chambers and began to pace up and down in front of the enchanted rose, which had slowly started to lose more petals over the past few weeks.
"Four more months till my twenty-first year," he muttered as he looked over at the aforementioned rose. "And Christmas Eve, the anniversary of the curse, in only two days." Beast let out a small moan and gripped his upper arms in his clenched paws, matching his clenched teeth as his red cloak whipped around in the wind blowing in from the open balcony doors.
"I keep trying…she's so beautiful, her voice is so soothing…doesn't she know I would do anything for her? She suspects I'm not really a beast, it is tormenting me not to tell her the truth and I can't…I can't let her know…Belle needs to tell me that she loves me. I don't know if I do…I think I do…I can't…I…I do," the truth rang in his ears.
The prince had vowed never to feel that emotion again, but here now, as the grown man he was under this beastly flesh, the emotion was there, stronger than it had even been for his family.
"I love her."
Beast had dared to say the three words out loud. Only a month, not even, and suddenly there it was.
He was in love with Belle.
It wasn't a crush. It wasn't lust. It was love, and the feeling was only growing stronger. Beast looked over at the torn painting of himself as boy, the one poor Queen Marie had so lovingly gifted to him.
Walking to the painting, Beast reached out and lifted a piece of the canvas, looking at the high cheekbones and full mouth. Beast subconsciously lifted his left paw to his mouth and traced his fingers over his engorged, fanged mouth and furry cheeks, letting out a shuddering sigh he dropped his hand from the canvas and stared into the identically blue eyes.
"You and I," Beast addressed the boy in the painting. "We have to part ways. You are a reflection of whom I once was, not who I could be. I cannot escape my past, but I must not let it dominate my future. I need Belle. When I was you, I thought I didn't need anyone anymore." He shook his head with newfound wisdom.
"That's not true. We needed Père. We needed Maman and Christine, even though they could no longer be with us. We still need Lumière, Mrs Potts, Cogsworth and the rest of the staff. They're our family now we have none. And Belle…we need her. I love her. Do you understand that, young prince?" Beast chastised his younger self.
"When we were young, we thought we'd be married to some princess or duchess and that would be the end of it. We'd come to love them, not fall in love of our own volition. Well," he folded his arms, mimicking a stern expression his father had often worn.
"We've surely learnt our lesson. And it's not over yet. I swear, by every fibre of my being, that I have changed. Belle is changing us. I love her."
Beast smiled triumphantly, "You will see, Adam. I will make this right…and you Enchantress, you'd better keep your word. It won't be long now before I can hold Belle in my arms and kiss her, as I should have been able to do every moment I have been in her company," Beast vowed.
Looking aside, it might just have been his imagination, but the rose glowed a little brighter and Beast smiled, "You have heard me, Enchantress, so it shall be. If I can't love Belle, let the world be done with me," he swore. "She is the only one I want." Beast went out on the balcony and rested his arms on the railing, the snow was starting to fall heavily, but he needed to think for a moment.
What could I do next for Belle to prove my love?
-:-:-:-
Still brooding over what could be done next, (a few hours after the revelation of his love for Belle had dawned on him,) Beast, hands clasped behind his back, made his way over to the library. He was stopped in the hallway leading to the library by Lumière, who bowed quickly and smiled up at his master.
"Bonjour, your highness," Beast's maître d' greeted. "Did Mademoiselle Belle enjoy her surprise?"
Beast raised his brow. He knew the tone Lumière was using meant that he already knew just how it had gone. "Well. But...oh damn it, Lumière, don't play innocent. I can tell you know what happened already. Were you eavesdropping again?" He accused.
The candelabra looked insulted and folded his golden arms. "Of course not your highness...well not on you and Mademoiselle Belle. However, I overheard the Mademoiselle talking with Mrs Potts, asking if she had taught you the words to that Greensleeves song Mrs Potts used to sing you to sleep with as a child. Mrs Potts of course said that she had, and then Mademoiselle Belle asked about other verses, saying that you couldn't remember them...well naturally I concluded that you had...well..."
"Out with it, Lumière," Beast interrupted bluntly, his blue eyes narrowed.
"...well that you had...sung the song to Mademoiselle Belle?" The maître d' added the last part quickly and shut his eyes as he waited for the blast of words from the enchanted Prince.
Upon hearing no roar, Lumière opened one eye and saw Beast had his arms folded across his broad chest and wore a serious frown, but there was no glare of anger in his blue eyes.
"I did," Beast admitted slowly. Lumière blinked a couple of times and his master growled low in his throat, "Don't look at me like a stunned carp, you silly candelabra," he snapped. The maître d' came back to attention when the tone of Beast's voice almost reverted back to the snide manner of his youth.
"I didn't mean to, but she asked, and I couldn't refuse, Belle complimented me on my voice...but then after." The prince-turned-beast rubbed his mouth in frustration. "After we talked, I could see pity in her eyes."
"Pity?" Lumière winced, "Are you sure? Perhaps it was…fondness?"
Beast shook his head morosely, "No. It was the same way she looks at Sultan when he runs head-first into a snowdrift and can't get out," he groaned and smacked his forehead. "I know there is only four months left to win her affection and I'm trying, Lumière. I was ready to give up everything, but Belle...she makes me come alive. I can't...I need her."
Lumière sighed and half-smiled as he jumped up onto one of the side-tables to be at a better eye level with his master, "Then tell her. Declare your love for her," the candelabra insisted, his heartbreaking when he saw Beast's unbelievably tortured expression in response to his words.
"I can't, not now, all she feels is pity for me like an injured animal. If I declare my love for her now, she'd only laugh at me, or try to placate me with telling me how much she cares for me, but only as a friend…or, she might say something worse," Beast shuddered.
The maître d' nodded sympathetically, his eyes crinkling in the corners, "I understand Master. Do not worry, the staff are all trying our best to make Belle feel more relaxed and at home here. In time she will see through this enchantment. Mademoiselle Belle is such a bookwoman, she knows not to judge things by their covers! Give it a little more time," he suggested soothingly.
Beast bit his lower lip, "We are running out of time," he commented and shook his head again. "I'm determined Belle is the one, that the Enchantress planned for her to be the only one, I'm sure of it," the distraught enchanted Prince mumbled, walking past his sighing maître d', who lifted his eyes upwards.
"Prince Christophe, we need some help, old friend," Lumière whispered to his master's late-father, shaking his head as he hopped after Beast, smiling a little when he noticed how much straighter his master was walking, and that he was clasping his hands behind in the small of his back again.
Oblivious to Lumière's words and appraising, Beast peered around the side of the closed left door through the open right door, from this distance he could see Belle, seated in one of the plush chairs, pulled up to one of the large wooden desks, and in front of her, (in a semi-circle around a beautifully illustrated book,) were all of the children-turned-cups of the castle and Mrs Potts perched nearby.
The prince blinked. Only ever Chip had he seen hopping about the castle with his mother or with Sultan, and now Belle. The other children had never left the kitchen. They were all identical to Chip, except they hadn't the large chip the boy had down his side.
The children-turned-teacups were eagerly looking up as Belle read to them, her soft eyes looking down at them every so often and her mouth parting in a smile.
Beast glanced downwards at Lumière, "She's so good with children," he murmured, deep in thought.
The golden candelabra nodded, "Oui. Something on your mind, your highness?" Lumière allowed himself an indulgent smile. Beast raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps how the mademoiselle would look with a bébé of her own in her arms?" He chuckled at the obvious alarm that filled his master's eyes and winked.
"I think that is the case. Adieu, Master, I have to see to the serving staff for this evening."
The enchanted Prince scowled as the candelabra made his exit down the hall, he rubbed the back of his neck grudgingly. "That was not what I was thinking," Beast hissed to himself, in fact, the idea had never dawned on him before. Children...?
"Oh Beast?"
A sweet voice called out from within the library and Beast nearly fell backwards from having his thoughts disrupted. He looked over at where Belle had half-turned in her chair and was smiling over at him.
"Are you planning on standing in the doorway, or are you going to join us?" She called out in query.
Sheepishly Beast scratched the top of his head and nodded. "I'm coming," he replied, composing himself and walking into the library with his hands clasped behind his back and his shoulders straight. As he drew closer Beast saw the little cups with purple and yellow edging, (minus Chip of course,) start to shiver a little and a couple darted behind Mrs Potts.
Chip merrily hopped to the edge of the table to greet his master with a wide smile, "Bonjour, Master! Belle was reading to all of us about the First Christmas. It was really sad when Saint Joseph couldn't get a room for the Blessed Virgin in the inn, and then the very nice innkeeper–"
The rest of Chip's merry words were lost when Beast realised what the word meant. "Noël?" He interrupted with a slightly raised voice.
Christmas, like Beast's birthday each year, had been strictly forbidden for celebration in the castle since the curse.
Belle closed the leather-bound bible and folded her hands atop of the cover with a determined smile, "Yes, Noël. Chip mentioned that you haven't celebrated Christmas in a very long time," her brown eyes looked saddened. "Is that true, Beast?"
The prince pursed his lips, it was obvious by the expression on Belle's face that the holiday was something she enjoyed very much and being far from her father, her only family, would have a dramatic impact on her emotions at this time. Beast knew he would have to put aside his own feelings of reluctance for Belle.
I can do this for her.
"Yes, because we have had nothing to celebrate. Now you have arrived here, Belle, I will allow Noël to be celebrated, if you so wish," Beast murmured his assent.
Mrs Potts and the rest of the teacups, minus Chip, blinked in surprise at how easily their Master gave his assent for a celebration during an anniversary of something so tragic for him and the rest of the castle.
Chip leapt up into the air, "Yippee! A Christmas! Mama did you hear?" He hopped over to his mother, brothers, sisters and fellow servant children, who were still staring up at the Beast.
Mrs Potts composed herself first and nodded, "I did. Are you sure, Master?"
Beast nodded firmly down at his former nanny, "I am. Prepare the castle for Noël as you used to Mrs Potts. Inform the staff that I wish it to outdo itself for Belle—"
Belle put her hand on Beast's arm, "Thank you. But please don't go to so much trouble. A nice simple celebration would please me ever so much more," she interrupted kindly, those twinkling brown eyes held so much kindness Beast would have scoured the earth for every glittering jewel for her joy. Still, all Belle wanted was a simple celebration?
"I…I don't understand? There must be a grand feast to plan for!"
The young woman folded her arms across her chest, "I have noticed we two are the only beings who can eat in the castle, apart from Philippe, and so we should not need such a waste of food. As for decorations, Chip and I will go search for some holly and ivy," Belle said mildly, looking down at the bible.
Beast scowled deeply and snorted, "That is hardly the way to prepare Christmas! It has never been done without a feast, lavish decorations, and a midnight mass—!"
Belle lifted her head, "You have a chapel?"
The enchanted Prince stopped mid-rant and closed his mouth. "Yes, we do…hasn't anyone showed you it?" He questioned, Belle shook her head and Beast rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn't thought...oh yes ever since Belle had shown up here, he'd been praying earnestly in the chapel himself, but...Belle was a humble laywoman and a good Catholic, naturally, she'd want to visit a chapel.
"I guess everyone left out that part of the tour," the young woman raised an eyebrow with suspicion. "Is there something in there I'm not meant to see?"
Beast sighed. "No... nothing really. Come," he offered his arm and Belle linked hers around it. "I'll take you to it."
-:-:-:-
The doors creaked open and Beast stepped aside to let Belle enter the cold chapel. There were a few candles dotted throughout the small place of worship that lit up the otherwise dark room but offered no heat. Belle walked to the holy water cistern and dipped her fingers into it, crossing herself she knelt in homage before rising to her feet, and strolling past the ancient pews, her eyes lifted to the ceiling.
Checking to see if Belle was distracted, Beast also dipped his fingers into the holy water and made the sign of the cross, before moving quickly to catch up to the brunette haired woman, who was still staring up at the grand carvings along the beams.
"It is so beautiful in here," Belle said a little louder than a whisper. "I haven't seen such a beautiful church since Paris."
The prince-turned-beast folded his arms as he watched Belle touch the smooth polished wood of the back of one of the pews. "Did you ever see Notre Dame?" He queried.
Belle shook her pony-tailed haired head and glanced curiously up at him, "No. I have never been inside la belle Notre Dame. I've walked near it, but I've never been inside. Have you?" She threw out yet another question about his identity and Beast shook his head.
"I do not believe that, you speak as if you have," Belle replied with a smile. "Come, tell me what it is like in there," she motioned to a pew and her imprisoner shook his head again. "All right."
Wearily Beast watched the young woman walk around a row of pews with a raised brow in his direction as she left. Yet again he knew Belle was not impressed. He wouldn't be either frankly, but what else could he do? The prince followed a few feet behind as Belle studied the statues, in particular the largest one in the chapel.
"San Martin de Tours," Belle mentioned as she saw Beast's shadow over her own from the candlelight. "Do you know of him?"
Beast nodded his head, his father's favourite saint. "He was a cavalry officer in the Roman army and..." he scratched his head. "I... don't remember anything else," Beast turned his gaze from the handsomely clothed saint's stony features and turned them instead on his paws.
Belle touched his arm and continued to keep her smiling expression fixed on the huge statue. "San Martin was at the gates of a city called Amiens with his soldiers, when he met a beggar dressed in rags. Feeling love and pity for the beggar, San Martin cut his own military cloak in half and shared it with him," Belle explained.
Beast nodded and looked up at the statue as Belle continued to tell the story.
"That night San Martin dreamed of the Lord Christ wearing the half-cloak he had given away. Jesu said to the angels: 'Here is Martin, the Roman soldier who is not baptised, he has clad me.'"
Beast folded his arms, "In sharing what he had with the beggar, San Martin had shared alike with Christ," the words of his father came to him all too late. If only he had remembered that when he had turned away the old beggar woman who had transformed into an Enchantress, just as in San Martin's dream he'd seen his half of cloak on Jesus for sharing it with a lowly beggar.
All too late...
Belle looked up at Beast with a small smile, "Yes. Sharing what we have with those less fortunate, is what makes us human and beloved of God," she said, not knowing how painfully those words dug into the enchanted prince. The young woman glanced aside at the chantry to the left and a soft smile graced her lips.
"Who is that man in the stained glass? San Michael?"
The prince shook his head, "No. I do know they are chapellenies for the dead," Beast mentioned, averting his gaze from the armour clad man staring solemnly out of the painted glass, and kept his eyes on Belle, watching as the mademoiselle stepped closer and studied the stained glass within the alcove.
"Then this was not originally your castle?"
"No." It wasn't an entire lie, Beast's grandmother had been given the castle by her father to live in, but it remained a residence of the King of France. "I came to be here, though," Beast added. Let her think I found it abandoned, it will be much easier.
Belle nodded her head and reached out with her fingers to touch the cool glass thoughtfully. "He's very handsome, I wonder if he was a duke or a prince. He looks like a prince," she said decidedly, her fingertips running over the painted fair hair.
Beast forced a smile on his fanged lips, "And you would know what a prince or duke is supposed to look like?" He hadn't meant it as rudely as it came out.
But Belle looked sharply at him, then clasped her hands in front of her.
"Perhaps. I mean, they are only men after all. But, unlike a peasant, a royal man has a different bearing. He holds his head up and squares his shoulders, and, unlike any well man that could do likewise, he does so in a way that marks him as having power," Belle bit her lip. "That's silly dreaming nonsense, isn't it?"
With a raised brow in the direction of his father's stained-glass portrait, Beast rubbed his mouth, "No, no I would not say that at all. If I said anything, I would suggest that you had met a great many nobles," he answered, making the brown-haired woman smile as she turned back to the chantry, folding her arms over her chest.
"Only one, and he was just a spoilt little boy who didn't like books, and had the saddest eyes," Belle looked up at Beast with a cautious expression. "So very blue," she murmured, lifting her hand to his face. "So like yours, but not filled with seemingly all the troubles of the world..."
The prince-turned-beast pulled back before the young woman could lay her delicate hand on his face, again pity for his monstrous form. "I have none of the worries of a young prince, Belle. I fear I have to leave you, however," he bowed quickly and turned on his heel.
It was becoming further frustrating that all Beast could do was run away and not declare any of his feelings to Belle...
Can she not see I don't want her pity? I want so much more, Beast bemoaned to himself as he brushed past the many pews. Perhaps she'll never see me as anything but a creature to be pitied. When the curse is final, if she does not love me, will I still keep her imprisoned or set her free...?
"Wait! Beast, please wait!" Belle's sweet voice called out in earnest and the prince looked over his right bulky shoulder to see the young woman rushing down the aisle. He stopped and allowed the girl to side up to him and turned to regard her, Belle's large, light brown eyes looking earnestly up at him.
"Beast, this is the second time you've run from me today and I have the impression it is because of something I have said amiss," Belle folded her hands together and cocked her head quizzically to the side. "Is it so?"
The cursed man paused and bit his lower lip. Beast wasn't quite sure how to answer that question and, to his great relief, the young woman nodded her head.
"It is true. My Papa always taught me to speak my mind, but he also taught me that everyone is entitled to their privacy. I know I'm a prisoner here," Belle began, Beast winced at the sad tone of her voice. "And we have only known each other for a few weeks. I have no right to be as forward as I have been. I'm worried I may have been a little too forward, as a matter of fact–"
Beast lifted a paw to intercede, "Belle, I'm sorry if I've been terse with you. I've been alone for many years with only my servants that I've known since childhood for company, even before then I only had close contact with my family. I'm not used to being around anyone my own age who was not my servant," he explained.
"I have haven't been open with anyone in a long time, apart from perhaps Lumière, but even then, that is always as his master. You are my prisoner Belle, but not my servant."
Belle's eyes widened in understanding and she nodded, "I see. I had noticed the change in you, Beast," she cocked her head to the side. "I feel wrong, calling you Beast...have you always been called that?"
A raised brow from the enchanted prince and a lowering of his eyes. "I've been that for a very long time. The servants just address me as 'Master'."
"Or 'your highness'," Belle pointed out wryly, her imprisoner looked at her with sad eyes, she touched his arm. "I promise I will not question why they call you that, but...you don't have any other name I can call you?"
The Beast shook his head, "No, not now, I am Beast and nothing more," he murmured, the young woman looked concerned and the cursed prince felt he had to comfort her. I'm acting like a spoilt, moping child. I'm a man, despite all appearances. "Belle, one day...one day I would like to tell you everything," he assured her, placing his right paw over her hand resting on his left.
"Just promise me you can wait. Trust me."
Belle's face parted in a smile and she inclined her head, "I... I do trust you, despite everything. I think you are a good person," she stood on tiptoe and, to Beast's great shock, kissed his left cheek.
"Thank you for being honest with me," Belle slipped her hand from Beast's arm and brushed past him, rushing down the aisle.
Beast felt stunned and stood in one place with his mouth half-open until the sound of the young woman's footsteps disappeared down the hall outside the chapel. He shook himself out of his stupor and lifted his paw to the side of his face, where he could still feel the warmth of the lips of Belle.
The prince turned in the direction she had left in, Why... he blushed furiously, then Beast's open mouth parted in a deliriously happy grin.
She kissed me!
-:-:-:-
Cogsworth and Lumière looked up and watched as Belle rushed past them down the hall, her pale cheeks tinged with red. They looked at each other in curiosity, then hopped and waddled towards the entrance of the chapel to see if their Master had any explanation for the condition of the young woman.
Lumière reached the doors to the chapel first and hopped through the entrance and down the aisle, where the Master was standing slump shouldered and with a stunned expression on his face. His paw resting against his face and his blue eyes wide. Lumière halted and Cogsworth breathlessly caught up to the maître d', and also looked up at Beast.
"Your highness?" The enchanted mantle-clock inquired cautiously.
The Beast kept looking ahead and blinked his eyes a couple of times, "She...she..."
Lumière leant forward expectantly, expecting the Master to bemoan that he had said something out of hand that had upset Belle, "Yes?"
The prince looked down at his servants and blinked again. "She kissed me," he revealed in a dazed tone.
The candelabra was quick to offer his comfort, "Oh I'm sure Belle will forgive—what did you say, Master?" Lumière suddenly realised what the Beast had said, his eyes widening. "Did you just say—?"
"Ha ha!" Beast interrupted and picked up his maître d' and grinned directly into the puzzled Lumière's waxy features. "She kissed me," he tossed the surprised candelabra back to the ground. Cogsworth clapped his hands uncertainly as Lumière got back to his base and beamed up at the prince, who waved his arms about in enthusiasm.
"Belle said she trusted me, then she kissed my cheek!"
Lumière whooped excitedly and bestowed two kisses of his own on Cogsworth's disgusted face, "Haha! That is wonderful news, Master! Now if I might suggest, you should—"
Beast knelt down to his maître d's level and interrupted with gusto, "Get a wonderful present for her for Noël? I agree...she wouldn't like jewellery," he began to pace up and down, followed in his movements by his dutiful servants. "She doesn't like a lot of sweetmeats, and Belle told me little birds and wild animals should be free and not caged so..." He spun around suddenly and half-frightened Cogsworth and Lumière who both fell over.
"Do you two have an idea?"
Cogsworth raised his metal grasping hand wearily as he got to his feet. "Perhaps the madam might like a nice, handwritten card...?"
Lumière nudged his counterpart with a shake of his head, "No, no. Something to encourage the young mademoiselle to spend more time with his highness...ah," his eyes twinkled. "Maybe some ballgowns?"
Beast rubbed his hands together nervously, "Ballgowns?" He mumbled. Ballgowns lead to balls and balls lead to... dancing? Of course, Lumière would bring up dancing...but then again, Belle would probably like to dance. He'd seen her twirl about, and she was so graceful.
"I suppose so. Yes, I want her to look like a princess though. Like Queen Marie, but less elaborate…like Christine used to dress…but no silly wigs," Beast commanded sternly.
Lumière nodded his head. "Of course, Master. I shall visit the tailor and Madame de la Grande. I'll see to it that you are shown the final choices," the candelabra maître d' bowed and hopped away quickly, with a wide grin on his face.
Cogsworth looked up at the Prince with a sly grin of his own. "If I may say so, your highness, I do believe that by Christmas day we might be free of this curse."
Beast looked sharply down at his majordome, "I don't know. Go find something to do, I need to think," he dismissed.
The mantle-clock bowed deeply and scampered away, but even the clipped tone of his master's voice didn't wipe the smile off his face.
Like Lumière, Cogsworth could see the marked difference in his highness' demeanour. There was still the surly, stubborn boy-turned-beast lingering, but that boy was slowly being replaced by an even-tempered, rational man, thanks to Belle's gentle influence.
Cogsworth only hoped that this strange situation would work itself out and that things would not go back to how they were before the curse. That they would transcend that gloomy period and manifest instead into the bright, magnificent court Gascogne had been in the early days of Prince Christophe and Princess Aurélie's reign, when Cogsworth had first arrived at the château thirty years ago.
The arrival of the children the Englishman remembered with great fondness. The loss of the two little twins he felt deeply. After his daughters' deaths, a spark had gone from Christophe's eyes, and he worked tirelessly, shutting himself away from his family, and leaving on endless trips to Paris.
Aurélie had accepted this mildly. She adored her children, and both Aurélie and Christine spoilt Adam incorrigibly. The boy, having no steady influence of his absent father, had run wild and bathed in the lavish attention bestowed upon him by all the staff…excepting Lumière and Mrs Potts.
Cogsworth had observed these events rarely, as he had often accompanied Christophe to Paris, but it seemed Adam would only really listen to Mrs Potts stern lectures, and Lumière was consistently relied upon by the Princesses of Gascogne to remove the boy from any immediate danger he'd gotten into. (Like climbing high up in the branches of a gnarled tree in the gardens and not being able to climb back down.)
Capitaine Amable had often stood a staunch defender of young Adam. He and Christine spent the most time with the boy, and when all the other staff, and even his own mother and sister, failed to calm the boy down, Amable would step forward with his usual gallant demeanour and easily intervene.
Adam had adored Edgard, idolising him even more than his distant father. Losing him soon after losing his family had hardened the boy even further. They should have seen this coming. Even if the Enchantress had not come, Prince Adam still would have grown violent and wild into adulthood. Stubborn and snobbish towards all below him, instead of kind and benevolent to his people.
And who knows, this business of revolution could have wrought great tragedy. Perhaps the Enchantress had had more than one intention when she placed the curse…
Thank you for reading, the next chapter will be up very soon.