Summary:
This story tells the tale of Beauty And The Beast primarily from the perspective of Prince Adam, the Beast Prince of the story, and delves into the back-story of the events leading up to his transformation, rejoins the classic tale of redemption to tell it anew, and then moves to a sparkling conclusion and a new beginning.
(A/N: I've found a little time to re-upload and finish this story. In the time since I first published this story many things have changed within the Disney's Beauty And The Beast lore, but I should stress this story has nothing to do whatsoever with the Live-Action 2017 Disney's Beauty And The Beast, it remains my own extension of the 1991 animated movie.)
Disclaimer: I do not own BatB, nor any characters not of my own creation used within this text.
Settings:
The village and castle I've set in Gascogne. Why? Disney gives you a few clues as to the real-life location they based the kingdom/dukedom upon:
One: Check out the wiki article on Gascony (Gascogne in French), and also check out Google images, the pictures of the scenery alone, including the mountains and hills and pretty simple villages, are near identical to what we see in the movie.
Two: It's close to Spain and England, famed for its cuisine and far enough from Paris for it to be of little interest, (particularly since BatB seems to be set either during or soon after the French Revolution, there would be very little care from the villagers in why their Prince, left alone after the death of his family, had suddenly disappeared,) and very provincial.
Three: Gaston means "from Gascony/Gascogne," he's lived in the village his whole life, it's a great give away!
Paris, Avenue Champs-Élysées, 1778
Adam? Adam? Mon fils à moi?" A beautiful, worried woman called across the fashionable café, furnished with fine white table and chairs matched with pale yellow walls dotted with elegant paintings and fixtures. Her curled, grey wig became slightly askew as she pushed her wide, embroidered silk gown past a dining couple, who blinked at the elegant woman, obviously of nobility, running around and calling out for her missing son.
Princess Aurélie Corinne of Gascogne smiled apologetically at a larger woman, whom the worried mother had nearly knocked off her chair in her haste to find her only son, "I am sorry, please excuse me, madame," she inclined her head, gazing out across the busy café. "Adam?!"
A white tablecloth upon a table in the far corner lifted up slightly, and a pair of large, amazingly blue eyes peered out from underneath the sunlit cloth. The look on the plump face of the owner of the blue eyes was one of cheekiness, a natural expression for the spoilt, nine-year-old boy, who, while settling into his hiding spot, removed his blue tri-corner hat from his head and tossed it aside.
"Do not worry, your highness, I will find the young Prince," an adult male voice called out, the blue-eyed boy hiding under the table scowled and pulled back down the tablecloth after he recognised the voice as belonging to Lumière.
The tall, elegant, erstwhile maître d' was a beloved companion and friend of the Prince and Princess of Gascogne, he travelled with the royal family whenever the young Prince and Princess accompanied them.
Usually, Mrs Angela Potts, the English nanny, would be minding Prince Adam, but she had just had another baby to add to her already large brood of seven. Her husband, Mr Jack Potts, the carriage driver, had travelled with them to Paris soon after he had seen and helped name the baby girl.
Prince Adam of Gascogne folded his arms in a huff over his current situation. His Maman, himself and his older sister were going home early with Lumière, while his Père, Prince Christophe, stayed in Paris on business.
Adam adored his father and saw him so little, it wasn't fair.
Pulling on the blue ribbon tying back his red-blond hair in a ponytail, Adam screwed up his pale features in an effort to stop his tears of frustration. He wouldn't cry. He was a noble Frenchman, a prince, a great-nephew of the King of France...
A pair of large shoes became visible under the Prince's gaze, then the tablecloth lifted up to reveal the large-nosed, kindly features of slender Lumière, "Pourquoi bonjour, your highness," the brunette maître d' smiled widely.
Adam crept back further into his hiding place. "I shan't come out Lumière! No, no, no!" The boy snapped in response, kicking out with his elegantly shod feet as Lumière knelt down to the boy's level, and stuck his head under the table before he began to crawl forward after Adam.
"Oh, come now be reasonable your highness, your Père and Maman are waiting with your sister to take you back to the palace to pack for home, do you not wish to go home, your highness?" Lumière went to grab the boy, who was furiously shaking his head as he kicked out again.
"No, no!" Adam complained.
The maître d' bumped his head on the underneath of the table as he dodged the kicks from the green, satin breach-clad legs of the young prince who was trying to clamber away. But Lumière was quicker than Adam gave him credit for, and he snatched up the boy around the waist, putting the kicking child under one arm as he crawled out from under the table.
Standing up Lumière placed Adam on the ground, pushed a strand of the boy's awry hair back in its ponytail, placed Adam's discarded tri-corner hat back on his head, and then Lumière turned the young Prince around to face his mother and father.
Prince Christophe had his mouth set in a serious line, his hands rested atop of his walking stick. Christophe's handsome, broad features framed his large, light brown eyes, which currently held a look of dismay as he gazed upon his dishevelled looking son.
Princess Aurélie-Corinne stood beside her husband, holding the hand of a teenage girl, Princess Christine of Gascogne, (just turned sixteen and dressed in a gown of pink matched with a pink bow pinned powdered wig,) who was gazing down at her younger brother with a look of sympathy and love.
"What is the meaning of this, mon fils?" Christophe's soft-spoken voice was full of love, but also stern reprimanding.
Adam chewed on his lower lip, looking down at the floor, "I did not want to leave, Père," he said softly. Christophe sighed and knelt down to his son's level, brushing back a lock of the wavy red-blond hair from Adam's forehead. "I... I wanted to stay here with you."
Prince Christophe patted his son's head, "Oh mon cher fils, my dear son, then who would look after the Castle while I was away? You will be Prince of Gascogne one day, and Cogsworth and Lumière have so much to teach you in my absence," he stood up. "But you must learn to accept these things, such as my staying in Paris while you go home with your mother and sister, with much more dignity and refinement as befits your nobility, you are not a pig-boy mon fils. Lumière?"
The maître d', his attention stolen for a moment by a gaggle of young women with their fans open in front of their faces, eyes wide as they watched the scene the Gascogne nobles were staging, quickly stood to attention at his master's tone.
"Oui, your highness?"
"We will be taking the carriage back to Tuileries. You, however, will be escorting Prince Adam back to the palace on foot," Christophe looked down at Adam, who looked put-out. "This will give him a chance to think about what he has done. Can I rely on you in this, good Lumière?" The Prince of Gascogne inquired of his friend and maître d'.
Lumière inclined his head then bowed, "You can rely on me Master," the slender man looked over at Adam, who was all but glaring at him. "I will see the Prince safely to the palace," Lumière smiled at the boy prince, who looked back down at his shoes, turning his glare upon his silver buckles instead.
"Very well then, it is done," Christophe took his wife's arm in his own. Aurélie looked back at her son with a worried look and Christine kept glancing over her shoulder, as her chastised brother and the slender maître d' followed them out of the café.
The covered carriage, made of finest materials, glittered in the summer sun as it rested on the corner of the Avenue Champs-Élysées just in front of the café, the two white horses leading it were eating from feedbags. Standing nearby, already mounted on his huge, grey charger, was Capitaine Edgard Amable, the young Captain of the Gascogne guard.
The Capitaine's dark eyes lifted to watch Princess Christine with a heart-breaking expression of devotion, and he quickly dismounted from his horse to bow to the family.
Mr Potts, the carriage-driver, immediately hopped down from his seat to remove the bags from the horses' heads, tipping his hat to the Gascogne family respectfully, as he rushed to open the carriage door. As soon as the feedbags were put away under the carriage, Mr Potts then helped the distraught Aurélie into the carriage.
Christine took this opportunity to break free from her mother's hand she unpinned something from her bodice, a large sapphire broach in gold, and rushed over to Adam, the girl's red hair falling out from her wig as she all but threw herself at her younger brother, and hugged him tightly.
"Je vous aime, I love you," Christine planted a kiss on Adam's cheek and pinned the sapphire broach onto the corner of Adam's hat.
Prince Adam held his sister close before their father gently pulled his blue-eyed son and daughter apart and led Christine into the carriage to sit beside her mother. The button and embellishments on the ruling Prince of Gascogne's long, light blue satin coat, glittered in the late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows. With his elegant, powdered white wig and over six-foot height, Christophe was an amazing sight on the streets of Paris.
Something not lost on his son, who wanted to throw his arms around his beloved father, but Adam bravely stood back with Lumière, chewing on his lower lip as Christophe entered the carriage and sat down opposite his wife and daughter, leaning out of the window to say his farewell.
"We will see you back at Tuileries. Adieu, good Lumière. And Adam," Prince Christophe addressed his scowling youngest child, "listen to Lumière and try to learn to control your temper in the future, my son," he tapped the side of the carriage with his walking stick. "Onwards, Mr Potts."
Mr Potts tipped his brown tri-cornered hat at Prince Adam, a friendly smile across his broad, fair features, then flicked the reigns, the pretty horses snorted and tossed their manes as they set off along the cobbled street.
Capitaine Amable remounted his grey horse and trotted over to Lumière and the young Prince, "Do not worry, your highness, Lumière will take good care of you," the handsome captain smiled, and Prince Adam smiled in return.
The dashing Capitaine Amable was just about the only person the young prince actually admired outside of his family, mostly because Amable taught Adam horsemanship, swordplay, and the capitaine would tell the boy stories about his late father's bravery in battles fought in Iroquois and Algonquins.
Edgard jarred his horse and went cantering after the Gascogne's carriage. Adam watched silently as the party of his family moved down the avenue, his features slowly slipped back into their customary scowling, and the prince folded his arms.
Lumière rubbed his hands together, "Well then, young Master, let us set off," he said resolutely, turning on his heel and walking in the opposite direction the carriage had departed in.
Adam pointed to the disappearing carriage, "Lumière, it is that way to the palace," the boy said loudly, stomping his foot.
Lumière stopped a few feet into his walk and looked back over his shoulder at the sulky Prince, "Oui, young Master, but this is another way, come," he smiled as the prince raised a cynical eyebrow. "Oh, come now Prince Adam, do you not trust me?" He half bowed and removed his hat, looking up at the red-haired boy and offering a wink of encouragement.
Adam rolled his large blue eyes and stomped over to the maître d', "Fine," he accepted, not seeing why everyone else was so charmed by the flamboyant servant, he found him annoying and, very oddly, almost always cheerful. "You are sure we will arrive at Tuileries by this route instead?"
"But of course, young Master. I lived in Paris until I was sixteen and entered your household service, what is it now…seventeen years? Yes, seventeen years ago. I know my way around." Lumière assured Adam as they began to walk along the avenue, the Prince tugged on his black hat and looked up at his family servant. "Yes, it is true, this is the nicest way to walk to Tuileries. The most beautiful parks and the most beautiful houses–"
Adam kicked the footpath in disinterest, "Bah, who cares about a lot of stupid trees and houses?" He commented rudely, the brown-haired maître d' raised his eyebrows but smiled benignly at the boy as they turned into the entrance to a park.
"Oh, but young Master, one must learn to appreciate the beauty in places he visits. Paris is a city unlike any other, it is a city of power, beauty and romance," as he said this, Lumière picked a rose from a bush and offered it to a simple peasant girl walking past them with a load of laundry. She giggled as she accepted the red flower, Lumière bowed and the girl inclined her head in response, holding the rose under her nose as she walked away.
Lumière looked back at the prince, who was wearing a revolted look all over his face.
"Brut, disgusting," Adam put his nose in the air and continued walking down the path, followed diligently by his companion. "Girls are nothing but trouble, except for Maman and Christine, and as for those silly maids you chase around the castle..."
My goodness, Lumière thought to himself, fighting the urge to roll his eyes as Adam continued to rant. For all Adam's hatred of books and learning he certainly speaks like someone at least twice his age, he doesn't miss a thing. "Now I'm quite sure I know not of what you talk of young Master, ah." Lumière interrupted and pointed over at a statue. "Very interesting, you do know who this is, don't you, your highness...?"
But the young prince had become distracted when he had looked across the path and saw a little girl, sitting alone on a stone bench beside a fountain. The girl's nose was stuck behind a red bound, worn book that looked remarkably thick for a girl of about six or seven, Adam guessed at her age as he approached the girl, who had her brown hair in a simple ponytail tied back with a white ribbon.
The girl caught Adam's gaze and stared at the well-dressed boy, before getting to her tiny feet to curtsey neatly, holding her book with her left, while holding the edges of her brown skirt and white apron with her right.
"Bonjour, Jeune Maître," the girl said politely and clearly. Adam studied the girl with a frown as she sat back down.
"Bonjour. What is a girl like you reading such a thick book?" The prince said curiously, usually, only noblewomen would have a full education, peasant girls might learn a little, mostly to read the Bible. The girl looked offended and went back to her book.
"Are you not going to answer me?" Adam demanded.
The girl's light brown eyes peered over the top of her book, "Young Master, a girl may read a 'thick' book if she pleases, just as I'm sure you do if you please," she said primly.
Adam snorted, he did not like this girl and her haughty manners, "I don't please. I hate books," he replied just as prudishly.
The girl pulled back up her book, "I like books, so I will sit here and read my book while I wait for my father, and you can go back to not reading your books. Adieu, Jeune Maître," the girl farewelled, waving her little white hand.
Adam looked furious and was about to take the little girl's book and throw it into the fountain, but Lumière appeared suddenly at his side and grabbed the prince's arm.
"Come along young Master, do not disturb the mademoiselle as she is reading," Lumière chastised his charge, the boy glared up at him as he was pulled away.
"But she was being rude to me," Adam said, pulling his arm away from the maître d', rubbing it with a rueful scowl as he looked back at the girl, who had lowered her book slightly to gaze over at the noble boy and his servant arguing.
Although it appeared pretty one-sided, as the tall man shook his head and folded his arms.
"As you were being to her. Mon Dieu! You must learn to be more gentle with the young ladies, young Master," Lumière smiled in amusement.
Adam scowled further as he noticed the girl watching the display and pointed over at her, "But she..." he snorted as the girl quickly pulled back up her book. "Fine. Come along, Lumière," the boy marched ahead down the path, Lumière faithfully trailing behind him, his hands clasped behind and resting in the small of his back.
The girl shook her head as she lowered her book, looking up at the oak tree that cast shadows in the sunlight across her pretty face. "Fancy not liking to read and being rich enough to afford any book he likes? It isn't fair. Boys." Young Belle Blanchard said to herself, turning a page in her book. "They can be perfectly beastly."
-:-:-:-
There was a general sense of foreboding that Lumière couldn't seem to shake off as he escorted Adam across the carved stone bridge that led towards the entrance of the Tuileries Palace, the maître d' brown eyes narrowed in worry as he gazed across at the young Prince Adam. The boy seemed to be also picking up on the same vibes, wearing a scowl even deeper than usual on his serious features.
Lumière's fears were confirmed when, as he and Adam approached the massive wrought iron gates, they saw a Musketeer conversing animatedly with two maréchaussée.
The Musketeer's expression turned into instant surprise and dismay, and he rushed back in through the gates. There was a loud sounding of trumpets, followed by the strident, rhythmic noise of pounding horseshoes on cobblestones, as a fleet of Musketeers went galloping past in a mad rush astride their chargers. Lumière pulled back Adam immediately, so he wouldn't be trampled in the fray.
As soon as the Musketeers had passed, the maître d' rushed over, (grabbing hold of the confused young prince's hand so to have him close by,) to where the maréchaussée were still standing beside their horses.
"Messieurs," Lumière addressed the two men, "I am the guardian of Prince Adam of Gascogne here. What has happened, pray tell?"
The taller of the two maréchaussée, with fair blond hair, rubbed his mouth in alarm, "Prince Adam of Gascogne? Mon Dieu, you'd had better take his highness inside. This news we bear is of the gravest matter Monsieur, you might wish his highness to be seated..."
Adam's eyes widened as he noticed Lumière expression of panic as his family's tall servant clutched his chest, "What do you mean grave news? What has happened?" He demanded.
The smaller, dark-haired maréchaussé smiled sympathetically, his face full of pitying kindness for the small boy glaring at them with worry and confusion in his large blue eyes.
"Your highnesses please allow us to escort you inside, young master," the maréchaussé motioned ahead of them and Adam, at a loss, looked up to Lumière for guidance. The solemn maître d' inclined his head and the young prince exhaled defeatedly, allowing the policemen to escort him inside.
Once inside the grounds, the maréchaussé walked them into the gardens and encouraged Prince Adam to sit down and whispered to Lumière to stay close to his young charge. Once the boy was seated on the stone bench, the tallest maréchaussée folded his arms in front of him and cleared his throat.
"Your highness, there has been a most grievous occurrence," the man swallowed and cleared his throat again. "Your family's carriage was attacked and taken over by two masked bandits, armed with muskets and swords. According to the witnesses, they first attacked your Captain of the Guard, and he is wounded badly. The townsfolk alerted us, and we gave chase through the streets...but we lost sight of the carriage once we reached the city gates, and then we came here to alert the Musketeers..."
Adam's features remained expressionless, but Lumière –who had known his young master since the day Adam was born– knew that it was the prince's way when he was panicked, or deeply tormented inside, to outwardly appear emotionless.
"I see..."
The dark-haired maréchaussé interceded, "Do not worry, your highness, the Musketeers will soon bring news," he tried to reassure the boy prince. Adam just continued to stare straight ahead at nothing. The policeman put his hat back on his head. "Very well. Good day then, your highness."
The maréchaussée both bowed to Adam, then nodded politely to Lumière as they walked back down the garden path to the exit.
Prince Adam continued to stare ahead, and his servant wrung his hands in worry but forced a shaky smile for his young charge.
"Do not despair, your highness, there still is hope," Lumière comforted Adam, the boy continued to look straight ahead, the maître d' rubbed the back of his neck then rushed over to kneel in front of the prince. "Please, Prince Adam, you must be strong, young Master."
To Lumière great surprise, Adam let out a great choking sob and threw his arms around his family servant's neck, crying into the man's satin-covered shoulder furiously.
Lumière hesitantly put his right arm around the boy and patted his back gently, Adam shook his head as his body continued to rack with painful sobs.
"What will I do without them, Lumière? I'm too young to rule a kingdom alone! I want my Maman…I want my Père…I want Christine!" Adam howled, the kindly maître d' continued to hold the nine-year-old boy close, letting Adam cry until all tears were spent and the Queen of France, alerted by the guards, sent some of her ladies-in-waiting to attend the boy and bring him to her chambers.
Lumière followed dutifully, his eyes red-rimmed with un-shed tears as he picked up and carried his young Master into the palace.
-:-:-:-
After entering the Queen's chambers, Lumière placed Adam down on a blue velvet couch, the boy was exhausted from crying and the ladies-in-waiting knelt on the floor beside the collapsed prince. The Queen herself entered the sitting room and sat beside her great-nephew on the couch, and wiped his tears with a lacy handkerchief, herself and her ladies speaking soothing words of comfort.
Lumière stood nearby, his hands clasped behind his back as two hours passed, and Adam had long ago fallen into a hiccupping mess and then a fitful sleep. The Queen left leaving two ladies behind, who sat patiently in nearby chairs with their embroidery.
The maître d' didn't shift from his post. He loved his Master and the entire Gascogne family deeply. It hurt to think of never seeing the Prince and Princess of Gascogne and their daughter again, leaving Adam alone. For underneath all the young Prince Adam's surliness and brooding, Lumière knew how sensitive Adam was and how much he adored his family.
At around nine o'clock in the evening, there came a loud hammering at the door, followed by two stern voice and a loud voice that overtook their pleadings. The ladies-in-waiting got up from their chairs and jumped behind the startled Lumière.
"Sir, please, the young prince must not be..."
"I must see his highness Prince Adam at once!" The roaring voice was familiar to Lumière, and the maître d' rushed over to the doors and opened them. Peering out over the stubborn, Swiss guards crossed halberds he saw the desperate, tanned face of Capitaine Amable.
The Capitaine's dark hair was loose and hung midway down his back. He was in a simple shirt that was untied and opened down his chest, Amable's left arm was in a sling and bandaged all the way up and across to his right, indicating a broken collarbone and most likely a musket shot wound.
Edgard looked back at Lumière with a stubborn, defiant look.
"Capitaine Amable. Please let him pass, men," Lumière ordered, the Swiss guards looked over their shoulders and inclined their heads, uncrossing their halberds and trying to ignore the glare the bearded Captain gave them.
Amable pushed Lumière aside and rushed to where the sleeping Prince Adam was reclining. It was then that Lumière noticed the tears rolling down Capitaine Edgard's face. The weeping man shook Adam awake before anyone in the room could stop him.
The still hazy from crying boy could barely focus on the tearful features of his family's Captain of the guard, "Your highness, I tried...I tried so hard to keep your parents and sweet Princess Christine safe from those men, even good Mr Potts was killed. I'm so sorry, please forgive me… in the name of your sister, whom I hold so dear." He grasped Adam's hands pleadingly.
The boy looked stunned at the ramblings of the upset Edgard, he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out and the young captain withdrew his hands and raised them to his face, weeping sadly.
Lumière had suspected flirting between Princess Christine and the Capitaine, but the heartbroken figure kneeling on the floor of the Queen's chambers suggested that it had been much more than innocent flirting and games. Poor Adam was distressed enough from the current events without this as well.
At that moment a Musketeer burst through the doors, his hat awry and he looked like he'd run thousands of miles to get to them right away. "Prince Adam," he gave a quick bow at the boy Prince. "Your highness, we have recovered your father, but he is wounded very badly, and he is asking for you. Prince Christophe said for you to bring Monsieur Lumière with you."
Lumière helped the stony-faced Adam to his stocking covered feet and helped him into his buckled shoes. The young Prince straightened his back, so he was at his full height, and allowed the Musketeer to lead him out the door.
As he departed, Lumière grabbed his jacket, "Keep an eye on Capitaine Amable," he ordered the ladies-in-waiting as he walked out the door, wringing his hands in worry.
-:-:-:-
The first thing Adam saw was many white-capped wearing maids carrying large, ceramic pots of bandages covered in blood. They walked past the wide-eyed boy as swiftly as possible, but the damage had already been done, and the young prince felt faint.
Immediately Lumière put a hand on Adam's shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Be brave, young Master," Lumière whispered, steering the red-haired boy towards the open door where the loud cries of pain and the muffled voices of the royal physicians could be heard, however, they almost all stopped as the young prince entered the room. A few physicians who were not busy tending to the wounded Prince of Gascogne, offered a polite nod of the head to Adam, before going back to murmuring amongst themselves, some taking notes and others cleaning metal medical instruments.
Lying prone on the white sheet covered bed, letting out small moans of pain between louder cries, Adam could see a tall, fair-haired man writhing... it was his father. Surrounded with palace physicians desperately binding bandages around Christophe's bare chest, attempting to prevent the spilling blood from staining the sheets further and making the man comfortable, there were also a richly clad older priest and young priest intoning prayers at Christophe's right side.
Prince Adam swallowed hard and took a couple of hesitant steps forward, one of the main physicians tending to Christophe looked up and motioned to another physician to stand in for him, as he marched over to the small party who had just entered, his wrinkled features set in a grim line.
"It is good you are here now, your highness. Another few minutes and it would have been too late. Come, Prince Adam, your father needs your strength in his last hours." The head physician encouraged kindly.
Frozen in place, all Adam could do was stare down at the head physician's hands, which were covered in blood, tracing his gaze upwards, he saw the richly dressed man's robes were splatted with more blood, and the young prince wanted to run away and hide somewhere out of fear.
But Adam had no time to act on these thoughts, Lumière knew that if the head physician said the end was near, then Christophe must say his last words to his only son. Quickly, the maître d' gently pushed the boy prince forward towards the bed, and kept close behind Adam, in case he was needed.
The priests stepped away as Adam arrived at the bedside and gazed down at his prone father with frightened eyes. There was blood everywhere soaking into the white sheets, and Christophe's fine silk shirt had been torn open to get to the most serious of the wounds on his torso. The Prince of Gascogne was breathing in hard and infrequent bursts, his brown eyes were lifted to the ceiling, and he was pale, beads of sweat rolled across his forehead and down to his neck.
"Père!" Adam cried out suddenly, grabbing Christophe's arm. "Père!" He began to shake his father's arm, rolling tears dampening his cheeks.
Christophe turned his head at the sound of his son's voice and almost smiled, lifting his hand to rest on the side of Adam's wet face.
"Shh, shh, my son," Christophe took a struggled breath in, then lowered his hand to grasp Adam's. "You are my heir. The Prince du Sang of Gascogne and its lands are—" he coughed, "are yours. It is my legacy to you and your heirs," Christophe looked over at his maître d'. "Lumière, good friend...the chevalière on my left hand. I have not the strength and it isn't right for my son— "
"My Master, say no more, conserve your strength, your highness," Lumière interceded gently, walking across and taking Christophe's left hand from the weeping Adam, he gently pulled the chevalière (signet ring) with the French coat of arms upon it, from Christophe's little finger.
Lumière took Adam's left hand and place the large ring on the boy's little finger. It was far too big for the young boy, but later he could place it on his index finger until it fitted his little finger.
The boy pulled his hand away from his family servant and grabbed his father's arm with a sob, "You can't die, Père, you're not allowed to. I won't let you..."
Christophe rested his hand on the top of his son's head, "Oh my child, my only son. I wanted to help you on your way to manhood, to teach you everything about ruling, but I have to leave you—" he breathed in hard.
"–I know not the fate of your mother and sister, but I pray if they have passed on, that they will be there to greet me in paradise," the dying prince brushed his hand across Adam's face. "I'll be waiting for you, Adam, when your own time comes. I want to see the good man—" he coughed, and blood trickled down his lip, Lumière took out his handkerchief and dabbed the blood away from his master's lips.
Christophe weakly nodded his thanks, then turned back to his son, "–the good man you will become and hear all about your life, your wife and your family, but you must be strong now and let me go—" he breathed in shakily, coughing hard this time the physicians rushed forward to steady him.
The Prince of Gascogne collapsed back on the bed and breathed in heavily, he grabbed his upset son's hand and squeezed it as tightly as he could, "I wanted more time...be good Adam, listen to Lumière and Cogsworth, they will help you...how I envy every moment of their future time with you..." He turned his eyes to look straight ahead. "Oh, Aurélie..." Christophe whispered so softly, then after a soft breath that was almost like a sigh, Christophe's hand went slack in his son's grasp and he passed away.
Adam shook his head, "No! No Père, come back," he began to weep and clutched his father's hand to his cheek. "Come back!" The young prince threw himself on his father's body, weeping and pounding Christophe's chest with his small fists. Lumière, eyes glassy with tears, stepped forward and pulled Adam away as the physicians gathered around.
The boy kicked and cried out in distress, lashing out with his hands and scratching Lumière's face in his blind anguish, "Let me go... Père... Père!" He screamed as the tearful maître d' carried him out of the room. Adam's eyes never left the sight of his deceased father, until one of the physicians shut the elaborate white doors after Lumière had carried the young prince out into the hallway.
And that is the return of Chapter One. The next chapter will be up soon. Thank you for reading.