#6 of my One-Shots

I don't own Beauty and the Beast just the story idea.

As always, please leave a review!


What's in a Name?

Belle thought by now the servants would have learned that she would not abide taking meals a league away from their Master. With no small amount of indignation, she lifted her plate in one hand, grasped her glass in the other, and marched down the seemingly endless table.

How could one have a decent conversation if every word had to be shouted across such a vast dining space? It was the same nearly every night, and she was tired of playing the same game. This night, Beast seemed completely lost to the pages of the book sitting to the right of his plate did nothing to deter her. She set her plate down next to him with a clatter, hoping to catch his attention. Instead, he gave her a fleeting sideways glance before returning to his book.

She humphed, folded her arms, and leaned back into the seat adjacent to his. He continued to pay her no mind, absentmindedly stabbing anything and everything, with no care or concern that he might get a piece of potato, fish, and jellied ham in one bite. She sighed—loudly. Not one hint of a curious tilt? Well, this is going to be a lovely night, she thought to herself. It had been one week since her astonishing discovery that Beast was in fact, a secret prince. A realization she kept to herself, but a realization that broke open a Pandora's box of burning questions and a deep nagging to understand.

No question blazed brighter: What was his name? The staff must have maintained their human names. They'd introduced themselves as; Jean-Luc Lumière, Henry Cogsworth, Beatrice Potts, Babette DeRosier, and Madame de la Grande Bouche. Why hadn't he continued using his?

The servants only called him "Master", "Sire", or "Your Highness". No one but her called him Beast. And now that they were friends, and she knew that deep down he was no beast at all, she refused to call him that anymore.

Stewing in silence, she formulated a way to coax it out of him. It was obviously a delicate matter; admitting he had a human name was admitting he was a man. She wasn't even sure if he was aware of his mannerisms improving, or how he would react if she brought it to his attention. Little habits of a more animalistic nature faded, while human gestures grew ever stronger. For example, tonight he was using proper utensils with ease, without concentrating on it at all. He wasn't even looking at what he impaled with his fork, but he never missed a target.

There was also the great risk that the question could send him retreating back into his solitude. They'd grown so close over the last few months. He was beginning to trust her, or at least she thought he was. They spent hours together every day, much of it reading, either to one another or just side by side. It was rare he brought a book to dinner though, so it must be a really good one to hold him so captivated. The one she'd opened this afternoon hadn't been. It was more of a textbook than an enjoyable tale, and after about an hour, she'd given up on it. Eventually, she would pick it back up, but tonight, she focused on the one question she needed answered most.

After the servants cleared away the dinner plates and served Belle and their master a dessert of marzipan, sliced fruits, and cream, Beast finally set his book aside. Marzipan was his favorite, and his mouth watered at the sight of it. Sparing a glance at Belle, he waited for her to take a bite before he would indulge in the treat. His eyes fell on an unusual Belle. Her face was disgruntled, two deep lines between her eyebrows, and her lips pursed. Had he done something wrong?

"Belle? Was dinner not to your liking?" he carefully asked, keeping his voice soft and pleasant.

"The food was delicious, as always," she replied with ease. He started to smile, pleased she was happy, but his relief was short-lived when she followed it up with, "It was the company I found lacking."

She crossed her arms over her chest and fixed him in a steady gaze, a challenge in her hazel eyes. He didn't know what he'd done wrong, but she wasn't happy with him and he shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.

"I'm sorry." He bowed his head, looking away from the dessert in front of him. His eye caught the book he'd been engrossed in, and he shamefully hung his head lower with regret. Of course she was annoyed with him. He'd been so lost in Odysseus's cursed journey across the sea that he'd completely neglected her all dinner long. With a sheepish grin, he raised his eyes to hers and explained, "I may have gotten a little caught up in my book. I didn't mean to ignore you."

Belle leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table, and resting her chin in her hands. "I understand. It's happened to me more than a few times. But I have a way you can make it up to me." This was the opportunity she'd been hoping for. It was why she hadn't made a fuss about him reading at the table when she had nothing to do. Guilt was a powerful tool, one she tried never to take advantage of, but she needed to know his name, and the curiosity was too strong to set aside.

"Anything," Beast responded eagerly. He wanted to see her lovely smile replace the frown she currently wore as quickly as possible.

Belle paused, bringing a finger to her lips as if she had to think her request through now that he'd agreed to grant any inquiry. He shifted, scooting closer to the edge of his seat, impatience on his furry face.

"What is your name?"

Beast instantly stiffened, his jaw snapping shut while a mixture of surprise and something just shy of horror pinched his features. She knew this wasn't a simple question, and that he was just as likely to refuse to answer it as he was to relieve her curiosity.

"I… I…" Beast stammered, desperately clawing for a response that didn't include giving her what she'd asked for. He never used that name. Not now. Not in this form. He couldn't. And revealing it would be far too telling for a woman of Belle's intelligence. As it was, her even asking for it set off alarms in his head. What had she already discerned from her time here? Did she suspect that he was something other than what he appeared to be? Not for a moment would he give credence to her discovering the truth that he was a Prince, but maybe she figured out he might have been human once.

Swallowing his fear, he finally said, "I don't have one." He hated lying to her, but he refused to have her call him by his Christian name. Hardening his tone, he told her with unshaken resolve, "I am Beast, that is all."

Belle watched all the different emotions dance across his face as he digested her question. The initial surprise gave way to fear and insecurity, surging into denial and commanding finality. She wouldn't push him, at least not in the way he'd expect.

Taking a sip of her wine, Belle rested back against her chair and locked eyes with him. "I understand if you don't want to tell me. But I won't call you something you're not."

"What?"

"You're not a beast, and I won't call you that any longer. So if you won't supply a name, then I'll just make up one myself, Sugarbear." A whisper of a smirk lifted her lips and she dipped a strawberry in the cream then took a bite.

Confusion overtook Beast, and he had no idea what to say to that. Had she really just called him Sugarbear? What did that even mean?

Shaking off the nickname, he started in on his dessert, content to ignore that she'd used it at all.

A few minutes of silence later, Belle commented on the treats. "The fruit is delicious, and this marzipan is the best I've ever had. Don't you think, dumpling?"

A clang echoed off the tall ceilings as Beast dropped his fork. Dumpling? He opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut, still reeling from the name she'd called him.

"Something wrong, moonbeam?" Her grin grew wider with each endearment while his frown deepened.

"Don't call me that. Or those other things," he grumbled, sticking a piece of melon with his fork and shoving it into his mouth.

Belle remained silent for the rest of dessert, watching him silently stew. In her mind, she made a list of the most absurd but adorable nicknames she'd ever heard, and filed them away to use in the coming days.

The next morning Belle met up with Beast for a stroll in the garden after they took breakfast separately. He was still rather aloof, and Belle just smiled at him, meandering down the rows of bushes just starting to show signs of spring growth.

"I trust you slept well, blossom?"

Beast snorted. Blossom indeed. Rolling his eyes at her, he slowed his pace and blew out a frustrated sigh. "I slept fine. And I thought I made it clear I don't like the pet names."

Belle widened her smile and hooked her arm around his. "But, pumpkin, what else am I to call you?"

He flinched at the endearment. If she meant it to be as affectionate as it sounded he'd be thrilled and start using a few of his own for her, but she didn't actually say it with fondness. It was her clever way of forcing his hand into telling her his name. But it wasn't going to work.

Beast groaned but placed his paw over her hand on his arm and guided her down the stone pathway.

Belle was undeterred, and she took the little victory that he didn't say anything else about it for the rest of the day.

A week passed by, and without fail, Belle used every pet name she could think of. He only acknowledged them with a snort or roll of his eyes, and she knew she needed to up her game.

Finding the staff in the kitchen before lunch, Belle called Mrs. Potts, Lumière, and Cogsworth over to her.

Pulling up a stool to the center island, Belle conspiratorially whispered, "I'm running out of things to call him. I'm wearing him down, but if I start reusing nicknames he'll think he's won. Any suggestions?"

Lumière grinned as his subtle laughter filled the room. He was thoroughly amused by Belle's latest tactic to break down the Master's walls and very much willing to aid her in any way he could.

"Chérie, why don't you start by telling us what you've used already?" The maître d' prompted, hopping over to where Belle sat.

"Well, let's see." Belle tapped her lips as she thought back over the last week. "I've used sugarbear, sweetie pie, kitten, blossom, moonbeam, pumpkin, dearest, darling, sunshine, turtledove, cuddle bug, button…"

Lumière couldn't contain his laughter any longer and burst into the loudest chortle he'd ever produced. Moisture pooled in his eyes as he pictured the Master's reaction to a nickname like button, and it was just too much.

"Lumière, knock that off before the Master hears!" Cogsworth admonished, although he couldn't help but chuckle a little himself. The girl was putting up a good fight in softening the Master, and hope was running higher than ever that she'd be the one to break the spell. Only a handful of petals were left and time was running short. In these dire times, having a good laugh as they were was highly valued. This girl was a blessing in more ways than one, that was for certain. "I can admit those… are quite humorous. I can't imagine he took to them very well, however."

"Well, he does keep growling at me to stop," Belle said with a bit of mischief. "And I might be having too much fun with this."

"Oh no, that's just the right amount, I think!" Mrs. Potts assured. "If he doesn't want to give you a name to call him, what else are you to do?"

"That's my point exactly!" Belle exclaimed, feeling validated. "Thank you! And that's all it would take for me to be satisfied. Calling him Beast just feels wrong now that I've gotten to know him better. He could even pick one of the nicknames if he wanted. Just something more appropriate to who he is besides Beast."

Lumière had been tapping his chin, his mind clearly at work. "I think to really spur him to confess, you must make the names even more... saccharine, if you will."

"Wait, to confess?" Cogsworth repeated with bewilderment, his expression nervous. "Confess to what?"

Belle leaned in towards Cogsworth, put her hand up to her mouth as if she were going to share a secret with him, then stage-whispered, "That he, and the rest of you, were human once."

Cogsworth choked on his own tongue at her accusation, sputtering with a forced laugh, "Human?!"

"Yep." Belle popped the p and smiled knowingly at the enchanted objects.

"No one here is human… least of all the Master," Cogsworth stammered, trying with little chance of success to disprove her theory.

Belle's eyebrow subtlety perked up and she turned her gaze to Lumière, who was abnormally quiet. Drumming her fingers across the wood counter, her hazel eyes penetrated through the nonchalant stance he'd taken. "You don't expect me to believe that, do you? I've been here three months, and have gotten to know not only all of you, but him as well. He's not a beast, and you're not a candelabra, or a teapot, or a clock. You're people who have been cursed somehow and I'm going to fix it. I don't know how yet, but I won't stop trying until I help set things right."

Mrs. Potts sighed, her eyes heavy with the burden of holding the truth back for so long. Turning to her colleagues, she softly said, "We knew she was a smart one, it was only a matter of time before she figured it out."

Cogsworth still couldn't fathom letting go of the charade, and waved his arms as Mrs. Potts spoke, warning her off her current line of thinking. Lumière rested a candle stick on the majordomo's shoulder with an unspoken look of resignation.

"The girl deserves to know," Lumière implored Cogsworth who deflated in contrition.

"Oh, all right. But if the Master finds out about this he'll have our heads." Pointing a sharp 'finger' at Lumière, Cogsworth relented.

Hopping over to Belle, Lumière explained that the castle was under a curse, but that the details were not something he could disclose without dire consequences. All he could say was that there was a time constraint on how long they had to break the curse, before it became permanent.

Belle nodded as he gave her what little he could. Her mind went through what it knew about curses and magic spells from her books once again. She'd already thought about how each fairy tale had its own individual lore. Some spells were broken with a kiss, others a harrowing quest, and some involved righting a wrong. A kiss was easy enough to give him—if he needed it, and the thrill of going on some epic journey with him had her pulse speeding up. A quest like King Arthur searching for the Holy Grail! If he'd crossed a magical creature and had to make it up to them somehow, that could be more difficult to assist in if he wouldn't tell her about it. The other day she'd pondered this very thing, surmising with how tight lipped everyone was about the nature of the curse, it was more likely his had to do with love, for why else would he and everyone else be so uncomfortable talking about it with her?

As much as she wanted to ask what could break Beast's curse, she knew they couldn't tell her. So she focused back on getting him to open up to her.

"Do you have any ideas for me?" Belle rested her chin in her hands again, eager for their advice.

"I once called Mr. Potts 'pookie,'" Mrs. Potts chuckled, her white porcelain cheeks flushing pink.

Cogsworth, having worked with Mr. Potts all those years ago, couldn't help but eye her strangely. "Only in private, I imagine."

"As it should be," Lumière pointed out. "Sobriquets are meant to be reserved for the ears of that someone special. Babette and I have come up with too many for each other to count."

"They aren't reserved if I've heard them on numerous occasions," the clock retorted and began to mimic Lumière with sweeps of his brass arms. "Mon amour, ma chérie, ma plumette…"

The candelabra smirked, unphased. "Those are merely the ones we let others hear."

Cogsworth grimaced painfully at the innuendo before shaking it off. "Well, truthfully, I have never been one for name-giving."

"Probably because you are as unimaginative as what you became," Lumière prodded, giving Cogsworth a nudge with an unlit sconce.

The majordomo glared at him. "As a matter of fact, I—"

Belle's fingers drumming on the counter, combined with Mrs. Potts' glowering eyes, silenced the two men.

"She asked for sweet names, not terms reserved for lovers, Lumière," Mrs. Potts reminded, softening her stern glare.

A flush painted Belle's cheeks at the mention of lovers, and she wondered if she'd already crossed the line between endearments a friend would use, and ones that romantic couples would employ. And if she had crossed that line, did she do it intentionally? Is that how she was beginning to see him?

Lost in thought, she missed the suggestions Mrs. Potts had given, and Lumière had just started on his own.

He rubbed his 'chin' thoughtfully. "Let's see, there's… ange, chevalier, bijou, mignon…"

Cogsworth just stood there listening to both of them tick off names, utterly baffled by the continuous string of them. His eyes darting between his colleagues, he asked, "Are all of these off the top of your heads?"

"Non, from experience," Lumière grinned. "Being married to your work, I suppose that would explain the look on your face." His eyes lit up at a thought before his grin turned wry. "Or do you refer to your job with similar terms of endearment?"

"Of course not!" Cogsworth snapped.

Ignoring the snipping between the men, Belle latched onto a few of the suggestions. "I like angel and knight. Jewel might be a little too much. I want him just mildly annoyed, not furious with me."

"Pecan, sugarlump, bonbon, pound cake, pudding, cookie…" Mrs. Potts continued, coming up with delectable dessert inspired names.

"Ah, yes!" Lumière said, taking a similar vein. "Perhaps something like… fleur, buttercup, rosebud, lily pad, daffodil…"

"Are these nicknames or...or botanical descriptions and snacks?" Cogsworth flapped, his brass arms raising to the air as if he couldn't tolerate the absurdity of it all.

"I called him blossom the other day in the garden and he nearly tripped over his own feet," Belle giggled. "I think I have enough now, thank you. I know you don't approve, Cogsworth, but this is about encouraging him to let go. He can't keep hiding himself away. I want… no, I need to know him, fully, and without reservations, just as he now knows me." She put a hand on Cogsworth's shoulder. "Don't you think that's worth it?"

The clock hesitated, mostly because he hadn't been expecting the comforting touch. His resolve faltered, but only a little. He heaved an exhaustive sigh. "I… suppose."

"Oh come now, Cogsworth!" Lumière lightly scolded. "Mademoiselle has only the best intentions. Besides, it's harmless!"

"I think its level of harm can be debated," Cogsworth steadfastly replied. When the maître d' opened his mouth to offer a rebuttal, he overrode him. "But be that as it may, the Master has a right to his privacy. If he truly doesn't want to disclose his true name, we should respect his decision."

With a sigh, Belle assured Cogsworth once more, "If he is still unwilling to tell me, I will respect that the next time he asks me to stop. I don't want to push him too hard. But if I don't try, I can't help any of you."

His expression softened at her last words, as indeed, her intentions were pure, but Belle could tell he was still uncomfortable with the idea.

As satisfied as he could be with this promise, the majordomo conceded to her plans with a curt nod.


After their discussion, Belle spent the next few days subtly dropping the suggested nicknames when they fit into conversations with Beast. He continued to ignore them, but his eye was starting to twitch, and his jaw would firm with each one.

This morning she found him relaxing in the front parlor, a new book in his hands, casually draped on the chase.

"Good afternoon, my angel," Belle greeted with a playful smile.

Beast rigidly sat up, the endearment scraping him like cat claws. He tried ignoring them all week, reminding himself that she didn't mean them in the way lovers meant them, but each time his heart would slam in his chest and hope rose a little higher.

Through a clenched jaw, he grumbled, "Hello, Belle."

She didn't let his less than pleasant reception put her off. Taking the seat beside him, she laid her hand on his thigh and tilted her head to read the spine of the book he was reading. "Moved on to The Divine Comedy, lovekins?"

Lovekins? LOVEKINS! Beast sprang from the seat as if her hand and her words had scalded him, because they had. The affectionate action coupled with a pet name so intimate seared him to the core.

She doesn't mean it. She doesn't mean any of them! Battered his mind and he just couldn't take another false endearment. He wanted them to be true, for her words to hold meaning and real sentiment. But they were hollow, void of the longing and emotion he felt for her.

His chest felt like a stack of boulders were trying to crush him, and he rubbed at it as if that might ease the pressure. He wanted to yell at her, demand she stop or else face extreme consequences, but he couldn't. As his eyes fell on hers, she didn't seem pleased with herself. Her brows knit in concern and there was a hint of apology in them.

Getting down on his knees before her, he placed his forehead on the edge of the chaise right beside her. His voice came out rough, but beseeching. "Please, Belle, no more."

Belle's heart lurched at the sight of him so distraught. The pain in his beautiful blue eyes cut her to the quick. She hadn't meant to hurt him. Everything she'd said was supposed to cajole him into admitting his true name out of irritation, but she'd taken it too far. He wasn't exasperated with her as she'd planned, he was wounded, and it was her fault.

Running her fingers through his mane, they remained silent for several minutes before she found her voice. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Lifting his head, his eyes met hers and he could see the tears pooling behind them. With an exaggerated exhale, Beast said, "I wish I could tell you what you want to hear. But I just can't. The… the name no longer exists, for the person attached to it is no more. I am the Beast now, and that is all."

Belle slipped her hand down his face and he leaned into the touch. "Alright, Beast. I shouldn't have pushed you so hard. It's just difficult for me because I don't see you as being a beast. All I see is my friend, who is smart, and kind, and funny. Beast doesn't reflect the man I see before me."

"Man?"

"Yes. Man. I know you were human once. I saw the portraits." Belle retracted her hand, tucking a stray lock of hair. She looked down at the floor, unable to hold his gaze any longer. "I wasn't trying to pry, but I had to know. And I want to help."

His tone dropped below a whisper as he told her, "You can't. This is my curse to bear, and mine to break."

Silence descended on them once more, but neither made any effort to break it. Belle's hand returned to his mane and she ran her fingers through it with all the tenderness she felt for him.

At last Belle had an idea, a way of making it up to him for her callous attempts to force him to open up. "Would you have dinner with me tonight?"

Beast scrunched his face and laughed, "Don't I have dinner with you every night?"

"I mean a fancy dinner. I'll take care of everything. Please, let me do this for you." When her hazel eyes shined at him with hope and affection, he couldn't resist smiling.

"That sounds wonderful."


Special thanks to the B&S writing workshop for their help Betaing this! And to CarolNJoy for RPing the servants conversation with me! The brilliant Lumi and Cogs work is her. If you haven't read Noble Sentiments and Noble Intentions yet, well in the words of Belle, "You don't know what you're missing!"