For the next two weeks, excitement grew as the grand day approached. Angelique had once again done a marvelous job at transforming the castle into a virtual winter wonderland for all the kingdom to see. People had already begun to exchange presents with one another, and the closer Christmas day came, the more the excitement built. At last Christmas eve was here and the celebration was officially under way. People from all over Prince Adam's territory came to the castle to enjoy the festivities. There was music and laughter galore as people gathered in the grand reception hall. A large banquet table was laid out with all sorts of fabulous foods and treats for all to partake in. The aroma from the pungent spices and eggnog filled everyone's nostrils, luring them closer to the table and have a drink or two. Another year had come and gone, and there were new stories to share around the fireplace.

Then finally the lord of the house, Prince Adam made his entrance. He was wearing his finest blue over coat, and finely groomed. He humbly received his guests and walked about the room to greet those he rarely saw during the year. Cogsworth met him by the fireplace with a glass of eggnog for the Prince in one hand, just as Lumière appeared with a glass for the Prince in his. Both men exchanged jealous glares at one another as they each handed Adam the glass they had intended for him at the same time, forcing the Prince to take both, one in each hand. "U-um, thank you Cogsworth, Lumière."

Adam looked down at both glasses, knowing that the men would be waiting to see which glass he actually drank from first. As if it was a sign as to which of the men Adam approved of more. Adam's response was to nervously smile at the men who stood there silently eyeing him, and continue to hold both glasses until Belle could come and rescue him by taking one of the glasses.

"Lovely weather for this time of the year isn't it Prince Adam?" Cogsworth rolled back on his heels as he began his small talk.

Adam smiled and nodded, "Uh, yes, yes it is," he politely agreed.

Lumière then interrupted sorely. "Why would you ask the Prince such a stupid question? Don't you know how busy he is with all the burdens of ruling this kingdom? All the time he dedicates to the administration alone would keep him inside all day long. You should know better Cogsworth."

"I'm perfectly aware of how much time the master spends looking after the well being of this territory and its people." Cogsworth snapped back. "I'm there every morning with him when he's getting his work done, but you wouldn't know that because you're always off doing…doing whatever it is that you do that time in the morning!"

"Oh, and getting the castle up and running every morning isn't as important as your job, Monsieur Cogsworth?" Lumière argued back defensively.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Adam insisted trying not to spill either glass of eggnog. "It's Christmas eve. Come on, let's put any arguing off until December 26 alright?"

"Splendid idea, master," Mrs Potts then joined the group along with Belle's father Maurice. "There are enough days on the calendar to get your squabbling done, let's all relax and enjoy some peace around the castle for a while."

"Here, here." Maurice said as he pretended to hold a glass in his hand and made a toast.

Seeing an opportunity to rid himself of the glasses of eggnog Adam smiled and handed one to Mrs. Potts and Maurice. "You can't make a toast with a glass of this delicious eggnog, here, take these."

Mrs. Potts and Maurice took the glasses, as they exchanged glances wondering how it was the Prince had two waiting in his hands. "Why thank you master."

Maurice raised his glass for real this time, and made the toast again. After he took a sip, a look of nostalgic pleasure came over his face. "I don't believe it." he exclaimed. "This, this tastes just like Belle's mother's recipe.

Adam softly smiled. "Yes, Belle said she went looking through her mother's old cook books and found the recipe. She was hoping she got it right."

Maurice smiled a sad, teary eyed smile. "Yes, she got it just right. Say, where is Belle?"

Adam shook his head, "I-I don't know; I was hoping you knew."

Everyone started to look about the room for Belle. "Belle?"

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Alone in the hallway of the east wing stood Belle and Denise, next to a closed door. Belle was leaning into the door, rapidly knocking on it. "Monsieur Forte! Come out and join us, you promised."

"Well, I changed my mind!" the musician yelled back from inside his room. Again Belle knocked urgently, she knew she was late for the party and knew they would be looking for her.

"Monsieur!" she desperately tried not to sound desperate. "Its important to all of us that you come and be a part of our family. This is your home too you know."

"I don't care! I'm not partaking in this silly excuse to make merriment on a holy day." he flatly insisted through the closed door.

Belle exhaled an exasperated breath. Now she was beginning to understand what her husband had felt the first night she had spent in the castle.

"Very well Forte, if that is what you wish." She then remembered what it took to get her out of her room that night so long ago. "You know, Monsieur, you'll be missing out on some of those wonderful dishes that Andrè makes only on this night."

"You can't tempt me with food, my lady." Forte partially bragged behind the door. "I told you, I grew eating turnips everyday, so naturally I learned not to care whether or not I eat."

"Mother," Denise spoke up as she inched her way between her mother and the door. "I know you say I can catch more bees with honey, but honey doesn't work on everyone."

The beast girl than began to bang on the door hard enough to shake the floor. "Forte!" she roared aggressively, making Belle cringe at the sound.

Immediately the door flung open and there stood Forte, looking down his nose at her with a stunned look and eyes opened wide.

"You will come down to the party at once, do you hear me!" the beast child demanded with all the authority of a general on the battle field, or a member of the royal family. "You promised my mother you would be there, and I want to hear you play a song! So, you are coming out of that room right now, got that!?"

"N-n-no!" the man sarcastically sneered, then slammed the door hard on her and her mother.

Denise growled angrily as she beat the door even harder than before. "My father doesn't pay you to tell me. 'no!' You come out of there this instant!"

Belle put her hands around Denise's shoulders. "Denise, dear!" she urged her daughter. "This won't get you anywhere. It didn't work on me when your father tried this, and I doubt it'll work on Monsieur Forte. Come, leave him alone. No point in us missing the party too."

Denise turned to go with her mother, then looked back at the closed door in frustration. "Why is he so, so, grrr, so difficult Momma?"

"I'm sure he has his reasons honey. Now let's see if maybe Maestro Fife won't play you a song?"

Denise sighed, its not who she really wanted to hear, but at least Fife would be happy to preform a song for her. "OK Momma; but just then Denise turned and walked back to Forte's door. She spoke quietly this time, realizing that her aggressiveness got her nowhere before. "Maestro, I wish you would reconsider. I was hoping to see you have a good time tonight, I don't think of you as just a servant, but my friend, and my favorite one at that. But, if you don't want to come, that's OK. Um, if I don't see you before then, Merry Christmas."

She turned to walked back to her mother and the two women went down the stairs to join the party. They came down the stairs together and was happily greeted by much of the staff as well as both Prince Adam's who were beginning to worry about them. For the next several minutes, Denise kept looking behind her shoulder fully expecting to see Forte standing quietly in the background, but unfortunately that would not be the case.

Finally midnight arrived. Christmas was officially here. Young Prince Adam II had fallen asleep on one of the couches over an hour ago, and everyone had eaten their fill. Now was the time for music and dancing, with the first dance going to Prince Adam and Belle of course. From the side, Denise watched her mother and father move gracefully about the floor, like floating on clouds and she dreamed of dancing this very same way someday. Well, providing she found someone who would let her stay a her present form. Denise began to wildly applaud just as the music ended and her parents stopped right in front of her. "Momma, Poppa!" she exclaimed in awe. "You look so lovely dancing together. Will you dance together this next song too?"

Adam shook his head, "No, I'm going to dance the next song with a very special lady."

Denise was taken back a little, "A special lady?" she asked suspiciously. "I thought Momma was your special lady!"

Both Belle and Adam smiled at their daughter, "Well, I'll have you know, I have two special ladies in my life." But before she could say another word, he took Denise by the paw and led her to the center of the floor.

"Maestro, would you please." Adam raised his hand and made the signal to Fife.

"Yes, you majesty!" the lively perky man cheerfully added then politely bowed to the little princess. "Denise, I wrote this song just for you, I hope you like it." Fife then turned with baton in hand and immediately the orchestra began to play her song. The music was bouncy and bubbly just like what Denise would have expected from Fife. His music was delightful; cheerful; joyful, but it was all she had heard growing up. Even though she liked it, she knew there was more to this world than major chords.

In fact, when she had heard her father call out, 'maestro,' just now, she secretly hoped it would be Forte on the stage ready to respond. She could feel a disappointed sigh coming on, but covered it up with a tiny yawn. She smiled up at her dad hoping he wouldn't take the yawn to mean she was bored with his company; oh far from the truth. Her father had a way of always making her feel quite special in deed; no matter how blue she felt, he could always make her smile. Prince Adam smiled back, but saw there was a twinge of sorrow in his daughter's eyes. "Are you having a good time Denise?"

She nodded her head, trying all the more to shake off her blues. "Yes, Poppa. I'm having a very good time."

Adam looked up over her head and smiled broadly, knowing she was doing her best not to pout. He pulled her in a little closer as he twirled her around and sped up the pace of their dance. "Poppa?" Denise finally began to open up. "Why do people have to be such…fuddy-duddies?"

Adam chuckled hearing her words. "Young people today say such strange things." Denise chuckled too; anything that made her Poppa laugh made her laugh.

"I take it we're talking about a certain musician then?" Adam remarked as they continued to dance.

Denise shook her head, "Yes, Poppa. I keep trying to make Forte a part of the family, but he always acts like it is such a bother for him. Some times I think he doesn't like us."

"Oh Forte likes us well enough, Denise." her father assured her.

"How do you know? Did he tell you?" Denise asked skeptically.

"In…so many words, yes, he did." Prince Adam confidently insisted. "Trust me, Denise; still waters run deep."

Denise scrunched her furry nose, "Still waters run deep?" she repeated. "No offense Poppa, but you old people have weird ways of saying things."

Together they laughed again for a moment just as the song Fife had written for her ended. But, just as they finished their dance, from the other side of the room where the grand piano stood, came a new song with a mournful and haunting melody. Everyone turned to see it was the old Maestro sitting at the piano, playing with his eyes closed. The melody was itself was utterly enchanting; an arpeggiated piano, from major chord to minor chord; running through its major chord progression to return to a major/minor tradeoff. The second part of the verse was all a minor chord progression that built in volume and feeling. Then Forte who rarely actually sang to his music began to sing these words.

* I've heard about this baby boy

Who's come to earth to bring us joy

And I just want to sing this song to you

It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth

The minor fall, the major lift

With every breath I'm singing Hallelujah

Hallelujah

A couple came to Bethlehem

Expecting child, they searched the inn

To find a place for You were coming soon

There was no room for them to stay

So in a manger filled with hay

God's only Son was born, oh Hallelujah

Hallelujah

The shepherds left their flocks by night

To see this baby wrapped in light

A host of angels led them all to You

It was just as the angels said

You'll find Him in a manger bed

Immanuel and Savior, Hallelujah

Hallelujah

A star shown bright up in the east

To Bethlehem, the wisemen three

Came many miles and journeyed long for You

And to the place at which You were

Their frankincense and gold and myrrh

They gave to You and cried out Hallelujah

Hallelujah

I know You came to rescue me

This baby boy would grow to be

A man and one day die for me and you

My sins would drive the nails in You

That rugged cross was my cross, too

Still every breath You drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Forte had his eyes closed the entire time he played, unaware of anyone around him. When he finished, he slowly opened his eyes to see everyone in the room had stopped to listen to him. He saw Belle standing close by, while Adam and Denise stood close on his other side. "That my dear ladies…" he addressed Belle and Denise with a performer's bow of the head. His large, dark, buggy eyes glimmered with the wisdom of an aged sage. His voice was soft yet authoritative. "…Is the meaning of Christmas. It is the commemoration of a sacred and holy event; not some excuse to throw parties."

Whether Forte intended it or not, his beautiful song brought the festive chatter to a screeching halt. What had been his intention, was make the people think and reflect on what the literal meaning of Christmas was, and most in the reception saw his point of view well enough. Except for a few, who had grown weary of his constant negativity years ago and had come to expect the worse from him.

As Forte slowly rose to leave the piano, Angelique snorted angrily. "I knew if there was a way to ruin this party, Forte would find it. Why don't you just crawl back into that hole in a ceiling of your's, you, you misanthrope!"

Forte gave no real expression other than his usual dim and glum aura. "Not misanthrope, sweet Angelique; just, misunderstood," he drearily sighed and with that. he left the hall as quietly as he came.

—THE END

* Song credit goes to Cloverton. A Hallelujah Christmas link to video and lyrics:

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