Soon a small cottage with a water wheel and a number of livestock animals appeared around a bend in the road. Could this be Belle's home? The carriage ahead of him slowed and stopped in front of it, answering Adam's question for him. He smiled. It was so . . . idyllic and sweet, just like Belle herself. His horse approached and he tightened the reins to stop him. He dismounted, again wobbling a little, then tied his horse to the fence that was on the side of the house.
Belle held her hands out to him and he went up to her and took them.
"Well," Belle said a little sheepishly, looking around herself, "This is it."
She was very nervous to have him here. She was in love, but not blind to the fact that they came from two very different backgrounds. Compared to the castle, her little cottage seemed modest indeed. There would be no doubt in the prince's mind that he was asking a peasant to marry him once he saw her home, which, after the scene in town, made her feel self-conscious.
Beyond this, being home again was strange for her. She had never been particularly happy there and after living at the castle the town and her home looked even more provincial in comparison. They didn't talk much about what Belle's life had been like before she arrived at the castle. Not so much because the prince didn't ask, but because she didn't feel like it was very interesting. She read, cleaned, helped with dinner, went to town, tended to the animals. He was a wealthy prince who had been visited by an enchantress, cursed, and lived in a castle with hundreds of enchanted objects. Certainly it had been hard for him, but he definitely had the more intriguing past.
"It reminds me of Briar Rose," the prince said smiling, "Your house is just like something out of a storybook."
"Your house is just like something out of a storybook," she told him, laughing.
"Can we go inside?" the prince asked excitedly. Belle looked at him. To her bemusement, his enthusiasm appeared to be genuine.
"Papa," Belle called out to her father as he climbed into the basement, "I'm going to give Adam a tour."
"That shouldn't take long," Maurice responded, laughing.
"Do you need any help, sir? Cogsworth asked Maurice, looking down into the basement apprehensively.
"Sure," Maurice responded, "Could you hand me that dog-ragged clencher?"
Belle laughed to herself and looked back at her handsome prince, who was looking over the cottage with a rapt expression.
"Come on," she said, pulling his hand and leading him up the steps. Belle fiddled with the latch on the door and it swung open. She hesitated in the doorway for a moment, then stepped across the threshold and into her old home. Everything was exactly as it had been left, save for a little dust. She was relieved. She had been concerned that the villagers would have ransacked the place in their absence.
"This is the living room," Belle said, turning to the prince, "And the dining room too, I suppose."
He smiled at her and walked further into the room, looking all around himself, taking everything in. He ran his hand along the table that was positioned near the fire.
"And where did you used to sit?" he asked. Belle smiled at him and sat down in the seat nearest the stairs.
"Here," she responded. Adam stood behind her and put his arms around her.
"So this is where you used to eat dinner and read and talk to your papa," he said, kissing her on the cheek. Belle laughed.
"Do you really find this so interesting?" she asked, reclining in her seat and tilting her head back to look up into his face.
"I've never found anything more interesting," he responded, looking back at her earnestly.
She stood up and shook her head at him. She took his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. Walking in, Adam nearly knocked his head against some hanging pots and pans. He looked up and noted that the ceilings in Belle's home were substantially lower than what he was used to. He took a moment to be silently grateful he hadn't visited while still a beast. He would have had to walk through the house on all fours just to ensure his head didn't crash through the ceiling.
"Oh! Careful!" Belle warned. Adam smiled sheepishly at her, then looked around the kitchen and noticed an apron hanging in the corner.
"Do you cook, Belle?" he asked. He had never pictured her in the kitchen and the idea of it seemed incongruent with how he saw her.
"Well, some of course," Belle answered, "Not as well as the cooks at the castle. But, yes, I had to. We had to eat."
Adam nodded with a thoughtful expression. The idea was so strange to him, Belle making dinner and cleaning up, collecting eggs in her apron and kneading dough with a rolling pin. The fact that she was standing in the kitchen in a full-skirted brocade dress with her hair curled and coiffed made the idea of a domesticated Belle that much more odd to him. In all honesty, he had only ever seen servants engage in those activities. He himself had never so much as washed a dish or prepared a snack in his life.
"And . . .the dishes and laundry? The animals outside? You saw to all of that?" Adam asked. He didn't dislike the fact that Belle was not noble, in fact it was part of what he found intriguing about her. The details of such a lifestyle were just completely foreign to him. He was becoming increasingly aware that he was more than a little out of touch.
Belle laughed and rolled her eyes. She stepped up to Adam and put a hand on his cheek.
"We didn't have servants," she reminded him lovingly, but with some reproach in her voice, "Papa did what he could but he's getting older. So, yes, a lot of the household responsibilities fell to me."
She took his hand again and led him out of the kitchen and through the living room to the stairs. The prince looked around himself, utterly absorbed by everything around him. He had never been in a peasant's home before. It amazed him how well they put such a small space to use. The fact that his beautiful Belle had lived here made it all the more fascinating. The stairs creaked as they walked up them and Belle led him up to a narrow hallway. She opened a door.
"My father's room," she said. The prince looked inside. There was a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, and not much else. The room had a masculine simplicity that made it seem well-suited to a humble man like Maurice. The only distinctive item was a colorful quilt folded on a chair near the bed.
"Did you sew the quilt?" the prince asked. Belle's face fell as her gaze settled upon the quilt.
"No. That was . . .my mother made it for my father," Belle said, her melodic voice containing a note of melancholy the prince had only heard one other time, the night she confessed that she missed her father and he let her go. He wanted to ask her more about her mother but couldn't bear the idea of making her think about something that clearly made her sad.
"We should add that to the items we're taking back to the castle." Belle said, shaking her head a little as though to rid herself of her moment of grief. She glanced at the prince and pulled the door shut. She took his hand again and led him further down the hall, opening another door.
"The spare room," she commented. It was small, with a bed and a table, and several very odd looking objects lying on the floor.
"More of your father's inventions?" the prince asked.
Belle smiled as she surveyed the contents of the room.
"Works in progress," she answered, shutting the door.
"And what is that room?" the prince asked, smiling and pointing to the last door in the hall.
"Oh that room?" Belle asked.
"Yes," the prince responded, walking quickly towards it. As he reached out to the handle Belle ducked under his arm and threw herself in the doorway.
"That room is forbidden," she told him, with a sly smile.
"Ahhh, so it's forbidden," the prince said, raising an eyebrow at Belle, "Now I must see it."
Belle laughed and opened the door. The prince walked in slowly. Belle's room was small, but larger than the other two rooms. She had a bed that was neatly made, a bookshelf full of books, a vanity table, and a small wardrobe. Like all the other furniture in the house, everything in the room was made of wood. A large window let in the sunshine from the late spring day and afforded a view of the trees and the river. Beneath the window was a window seat with a book left open and face down among the cushions. He walked slowly to the vanity and lightly touched the items on it, a hair brush, some spare spools of thread, a few hair ribbons. Adam felt deeply moved by the sight of Belle's bedroom, which still smelled like her, a sweet and distinctive mix of parchment and flowers. He looked around the room. So this had been her life before she had come to the castle.
Belle watched Adam, his human hands touching her old things. Something about being in her old room with him stretched her heartstrings to the point of aching. He noticed her looking at him with a slightly awed expression and smiled at her, a little embarrassed. He turned towards her and the sunlight from the window behind Belle fell on him, making the gold thread in his uniform gleam, the red in his auburn hair shine, and his blue eyes even more brilliant. She was reminded of when she had asked him to step into the light and had seen him as a beast for the first time. She was overwhelmed momentarily by the history they shared, the changes they had been through together, and how striking he was standing before her now. She shifted her weight back a little and blinked at him. He tilted his head to the side slightly and gave her a questioning look.
"You'll have to forgive me," Belle explained, "I'm not accustomed to handsome princes standing in the middle of my bedroom."
There was that word again—handsome. He liked when she said it and yet it was still so odd to hear. Then there was the other word she had used—prince. On the inside he was largely the same as he had been those last few weeks as a beast, unsure of himself, trying hard to be better, madly in love with Belle. To suddenly have everyone regard him completely differently with an entirely new set of expectations took more getting used to than his transformed body.
"I think perhaps I know how you feel," the prince responded, "I once wasn't accustomed to a beautiful young woman sitting across the table from me at breakfast."
Belle walked towards him and tenderly smoothed a stray hair from his brow. She looked into his face for a beat longer, then said, "Well, you've done a wonderful job adjusting. Your table manners are impeccable now."
Adam laughed and pulled her into an embrace. He held her for a moment, then thought of something and pulled away to look at her.
"Belle," he began, "Just now, in town, why did you lie for me? I thought I was going to tell them about the night Gaston was killed."
"We had to come here because of me," Belle responded, "I told you before—it's my fault the villagers ever even found out about you. I'm the reason the castle is in danger. I know you don't like lying, and I could see you were nervous. It's the least I could do."
"And I told you to stop blaming yourself for all of that," the prince said, "You've saved me and everyone else in the castle."
Belle looked down, still feeling guilty. He pulled her back into an embrace and they both looked out the window together, their minds deluged in memories of that night. As he looked out over the trees he was surprise to see that he could make out the silhouette of his castle in the distance.
He leaned down a little and said softly into her ear, "I can see our home from here."
She looked up at him and back out the window. She pulled away to walk closer to it, resting her fingers lightly on the glass. The prince stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.
"There it is," Belle commented softly, "I used to look at it and wonder who lived there. I spent so much time at this window, reading my books and looking out at the horizon, wishing I could be anywhere but here."
The prince creased his eyebrows and remembered what the townsman had told him. He walked around her and sat down on the window seat.
"Belle," he said, taking her hands in his, "Were you unhappy here?"
She looked down at him. His blue eyes searched her face, concerned.
"I was lonely," she answered, "I . . .didn't really fit in here."
Adam considered this quietly for a moment.
"And. . .do you feel like you fit in at the castle?" he asked.
"Well, I feel like I fit in with you," Belle responded, sitting beside him on the window seat, "I wonder if I'll fit in as a . . .princess. You heard the townspeople—I'm not noble."
"Belle," Adam said, "I've never met anyone as noble as you."
"No, Adam—you know what I mean," Belle replied, looking away.
"No, I don't," Adam protested. Belle continued looking away from him and he added softly, "But if it would make you more comfortable with the idea of marrying me then I can give the castle and the title up and we can make a life here together or anywhere else you'd like."
Belle turned and looked at him. His eyes told her he was completely serious.
"Give up your home? The servants who helped raise you? All your comforts and beautiful things? To . . .shoot game for dinner, chop wood, and sell eggs at the market? Adam, you're a prince." Belle said.
"I'd much rather be your husband," Adam told her. Belle stared at him much like she stared at him just after he had transformed. She looked at him as though she couldn't quite believe her eyes. A full silence bloomed between them for a moment.
"Why did you let me go that night? The last night you were still a beast?" Belle asked suddenly, "You must have known you were almost out of time."
"I had to," he answered simply.
She stared at him for another moment and then threw herself into his arms and embraced him.
"I don't want you to give anything up for me," she whispered into his ear, "I love you."
"I love you," the prince responded, "I want you to be happy."
Belle pulled away from him and looked into his eyes.
"Lumiere, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, Madame de la Grande Bouche . . .they're all so dear to me, they're like family to me now. They must feel like family to you too," Belle tilted her head, just realizing something, "That's why you're doing all this isn't it? Coming to town, contacting your father, riding horses and wearing swords?"
"I have to . . . be better," the prince muttered. Belle looked for another moment into his eyes. The comfort Mrs. Potts had given her that morning when she fretted about marriage and the duties of royal life echoed through her thoughts.
"You're still the sweet beast I fell in love with," she whispered, touching his face. For once the prince felt no sense of embarrassment or shame at the thought of his former self. The way she was looking at him silenced those feelings and told him she loved him, now, then, always. He felt a sense of relief that she recognized who he truly was and accepted him.
"I'm still me," he responded.
"Ask me again," Belle said suddenly. Adam gave her a questioning look, and she added "Please. Ask me again to marry you."
He looked at her for another moment and then slowly slid off of the window seat and down onto one knee. Continuing to hold her hands in his, he looked up at her.
"Belle," he said, "I never knew it was possible to love someone this much. Your courage and loveliness are so strong you saved your father, tamed a beast, and broke a powerful spell."
He paused, and looked her over. He wanted to remember everything about her in this moment, wanted the exact shade of the blue of her dress, her expression, the red and blue baby roses in her hair to crystallize and remain perfectly preserved in his memory forever. He had absolutely meant it when he offered to leave the castle and his noble title behind. He wanted to marry this woman more than he had ever wanted anything in his life, more than he had even wanted the spell to break. As a boy he had scoffed at the stories and songs of true love and ridiculed them for their sentimentality. He had known at a very young age that he would be married off to some woman of high birth to cement one alliance or another. It had made the terms of the curse seem that much more cruel to him. True love was a fairy tale, and if handsome princes couldn't have it what hope did a hideous beast have? But here he was, human again, very much in love, down on one knee about to a propose to a beautiful young woman, his heart pounding, thrilled at the idea of being her husband, terrified that she might say no.
"Would you do me the honor of marrying me?" Adam asked.
Belle looked into the handsome face of her beast. She couldn't tell when it happened, or how, but somewhere along the way in her strange journey at the castle, she had fallen deeply in love with Adam. While she still longed for freedom and adventure, she knew her heart belonged with him. She had spent most of her life not fitting in, but felt at home at Adam's side. She realized she had been nervous to show him her old home because she had been worried he wouldn't be able to accept this part of her, that he would realize she was just a simple village girl and perhaps love her less for it. The way he was looking at her stilled those fears. They knew each other. They accepted each other. They were safe with each other. Looking into his eyes and feeling her heart flutter, she entertained the possibility that with Adam she could have both comfort and excitement.
"Yes," Belle said, her face breaking into a radiant smile, "Yes, Adam. I will marry you."
Adam leapt to his feet and lifted her off the window seat and up into the air, twirling her around the room. He set her down and immediately pulled her into a passionate kiss. Belle's arms encircled his neck, while his hands went around her back and pulled her tightly into him. Somehow the prince managed to shed all of his clumsiness and uncertainty each time he kissed Belle, perhaps because it came so naturally to the both of them.
"Belle? Are you still here?" Maurice's voice floated up the stairs.
Belle pulled away, putting her hand over her lips and looking a little embarrassed.
"I forgot about Papa and Cogsworth," she confessed guiltily.
"So did I," the prince admitted. Belle shook her head.
"We have to stop doing that," she told the prince, "Acting like we're the only two people in the world."
"Isn't that why we came to town?" Adam asked.
"We should tell them we're engaged!" she exclaimed suddenly, her face breaking back into a smile, grabbing his hand and running with him through the hall and down the steps.
"Papa!" she called, "Papa, we have news!"
"There you are," Maurice said, laughing, "What news is this?"
"I said yes!" Belle said.
"Wait—what? Do you mean to-?" Maurice asked, looking from Belle to the prince and back at Belle.
"Yes!" Belle answered, pulling her father into a hug. Maurice hugged his daughter back, baffled but happy to see her so joyful.
"Belle, are you telling me you said yes to the prince's proposal?" Maurice asked.
"Yes!" Belle said yet again, laughing.
"When?" Maurice asked.
"Just now! He asked me again and I said yes!" Belle said, who seemed to suddenly to relish the word yes.
"Would you fancy that," Maurice said, holding Belle's arms and looking at her with tears in his eyes, "My daughter is getting married! My little girl . . ."
"Sir," Adam said, "I want you to know that I love your daughter very much and will do everything I can for her."
Maurice let go of Belle's arms and turned towards his future son-in-law. Maurice was the kind of person who believed the best in people. He was a soft-hearted man who knew that people could change, believed in redemption, and practiced forgiveness. The love the prince had in his eyes each time he looked at Belle was not lost on Maurice, who knew he was getting older and had been wanting for some time for Belle to find someone who could care for her. His happiness at the news was genuine, and he pulled the prince into a hug.
Adam was surprised but happy. He felt uncomfortable around Belle's father, never quite sure how to handle the tremendous guilt that burdened him for imprisoning the kind old man and then taking his daughter from him.
As Adam and Maurice pulled out of the hug, Maurice looked up at him and considered him as Belle's future husband. Despite his past transgressions, Adam stood before Maurice as a changed man in every sense of the word.
"Never thought I'd have a prince for a son-in-law," Maurice told Adam, shaking his head and looking back at Belle, who was still beaming.
"I'd prefer if you thought of me only as your son-in-law and not a prince," Adam told him warmly.
"What is going on in here?" Cogsworth asked, stepping through the doorway to survey the scene with a confused but not unhappy expression.
Belle ran to him and threw her arms around him, resulting in his confused expression turning into surprise.
"I'm going to marry Adam!" she told him, "He just asked me again and I said yes!"
Cogsworth patted Belle's arm fondly, happy but feeling it would be inappropriate to hug her back.
Smiling, he asked, "You and the master are engaged?"
"Yes!" Belle cried, as Maurice and Adam laughed at how many times she had said that word in the last few moments, "I'm going to live with you all at the castle forever! We'll be like family . . . oh, I know we're like family already but we'll be even more so!"
Cogsworth smiled at Belle, touched that she saw the servants of the castle as her family. He looked to the prince, who strode over to Cogsworth and also pulled him into a hug.
"It's happening," he told Cogsworth, overjoyed, "We're getting married!"
"I'm so very pleased for both of you," Cogsworth said sincerely, looking between them both and quickly brushing away a tear while hoping that no one noticed. Turning to the prince and remembering him yet again as a child, Cogsworth added, "You will make a splendid prince and a fine husband, Master Adam."
Adam hadn't heard Cogsworth call him Master Adam since he had been a boy. After he turned into a beast he didn't want anyone to use his name, and so had only been called master by the servants of the castle. He remembered now that the servants had called him Master Adam as a term of endearment when he had still been a child, using the term when he was sick or had a bad dream or was missing his mother.
"Thank you," Adam told Cogsworth, his voice shaking slightly. Cogsworth met his gaze and simply nodded, feeling more tears coming to his eyes but not bothering to brush them away this time.
"We should return to the castle," Cogsworth said, clearing his throat, "The roads are much easier to navigate when it's still light out."
Belle slipped her arm through the prince's elbow and smiled up at him. Cogsworth left the room to untie the horses and Maurice followed. Belle and Adam looked at each other and stepped out of her old home and into the late afternoon officially engaged and thinking of their lives together as husband and wife.