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They thought her a saint. She was nothing of the sort. Just a girl who fell in love.
Breaking the curse hadn’t been such a challenge (considering she didn’t quite know the specifics, for one). Living together after the curse, however, was a challenge in itself.
As much as Belle loved Beast, it was certainly a struggle to get used to someone else altogether. Even more so, it was positively a challenge to her patience — as her husband’s own patience was long gone by the time she got angry — to be flooded with opinions from everywhere. From her father to the servants, who saw her as more than human, to the villagers and nobles from other countries, every single person had a definite opinion on their relationship.
Belle was never one for caring about others’ opinions, but it did get quite grating when it was a daily occurrence… usually multiple times. When she was just a commoner, she could always escape the villagers’ prying eyes and dive into her newest favorite book. As a princess — soon to be queen — it wasn’t quite as easy to find time for herself. Or hold her tongue (although she fared quite better than Beas- Adam, yes, Adam).
Seeing behind appearances and loving what was underneath revealed the truest of loves, or so Lumière explained to anyone who would listen (and to any passerby in the halls, really).
True love at its strongest.
That, she quite liked to hear, though it still seemed too lofty, too pretty for a relationship that started amongst the sharpest thorns and daily spats. It was still better than other titles so many around them bestowed upon them (either in front of the couple or behind their backs).
An incomprehensible, but praiseworthy, feat. To love a beast. Finding in her heart to extend the most beautiful emotion known to humans to a lowly turned animal. It disgusted them to even hear such things.
Miraculous, with fate and divine blessing brought upon them. That was their servants’ view, which Belle couldn’t find too much fault with, considering how their lives had been. Even Beas- Adam himself called the breaking of the curse (and, perhaps, even more surprisingly) her falling in love with him a miracle in itself.
Such a notion was too much for Belle. While she quite liked the idea of fate, magic and adventures, living through one was not as enjoyable as experiencing it from a distance with a good book. It was, indeed, fate that they’d met. But saying it was a miracle for her to have fallen was a bit much. Although it was nothing compared to how the villagers and nobles who met them after the broken curse called it.
A love brought by a saint, some called it.
It was her love for Beast- no, Adam…
(Adam, she must remember.)
…That made this all possible.
It all made her feel a bit sick, truthfully.
Loving Beast didn’t make her a madonna, a saintly woman above all others, living amongst clouds while lowly humans watched from below. It wasn’t as heroic a feat as so many deemed it, nor did it make her a woman unlike any other.
She honestly felt irritated on Beast- Adam’s behalf, even. To characterize him as such a… a monster, really, even when one such as Gaston existed…
It still seemed so cruel, this curse brought by a so-called fairy. Why would one so wise punish what had been merely a child? All denizens of the castle had been included in the spell, even those who had no direct relation to disciplining the prince. It felt too unfair.
Even if Bea- Adam endlessly said what a terror he was, and everyone seemed to be in agreement. As if being brought back to humans now made it acceptable to blame it all on a child so long ago.
Belle felt like she was still in a different reality, even while surrounded by (now) humans. Why was she now lauded as a saint, for merely falling in love? It didn’t feel like enough to be considered a hero.
She was just a girl who fell in love.
And the one she fell for was no longer here, not quite.
‘Princess Belle, the one who persevered through it all and achieved the impossible: loving a beast’. That and many other similar variations filled her days, from servants to commoners alike.
From Adam himself, even.
She could never stand those remarks. With time, though, she got better at hiding it beneath a smile (as fit for a noble). With her dearest family, she could always open up more. Although all of them still believed her to be quite inhuman, in the best possible way.
Sometimes, she did feel indeed quite inhuman.
For was it normal for a human to miss the beast when a perfectly handsome prince lived right alongside her, daily?
The impossible had not been falling in love with Beast.
Rather, the truest challenge seemed to be her current predicament: to fall in love (again) while mourning the one whom she missed.
How superficial of her, to even think of such a thing! She prioritized character over appearance.
Was that not how she’d broken the spell, as well?
And yet, here she was. Mourning the husband who’d only changed his appearance. What a laugh. While all considered her so lucky to be saved from a fate with a beast — the very one himself included — she didn’t feel any of it.
It was dear old Beast who she missed. Which seemed quite a ridiculous notion, considering Adam was still the very same person.
And yet, it was all so different: the voice, especially, how he didn’t even sound like the one she’d spent countless hours immersed in discussion and long reading sessions. The height difference, the warmth that just seemed to emanate from him… Belle felt safe just by being near her Beast.
Standing close to Adam needed… adjustments. She kept forgetting herself. At times, she’d turn around in surprise at hearing something Beast would say, only to remember that ‘oh, yes… that is Beast’. But the one who appeared in front of her was a smaller, blond man.
Handsome, yes. But so very different. The very presence felt different. The way he drew himself, spoke, huffed, even the smell. Which… most likely meant she was going a bit insane since she even missed that, of all things. It was something she could never admit to, not even to her dear old father, who accepted it all and abhorred the word ‘crazy’ or ‘insane’, with good reason.
Belle couldn’t help feeling something was indeed wrong with her.
Adam notices, soon enough.
Living as the Beast had been a nightmare to him. Returning to a human was nothing short of a happy ending for him (and all of them, really).
“I miss some things.” He admits, once while they’re in bed reading a book (an activity Belle enjoys as much as their other nightly activities).
The book had nothing about beasts or animals. It was an adventure in a faraway land, where bowing was a sign of respect and swords the weapon of choice, but much thinner and lighter than the ones they were accustomed to. Belle didn’t quite know where this had come from, but she felt exhilarated.
She wasn’t the only one who missed Beast.
“Like…” Those eyes that always brought her back to her husband, close and blond locks falling over them (a color she was still not quite used to) as he sighed. “Being able to protect you.”
Belle stills. She understands now. That snowy night so long ago when wolves did not even touch her thanks to her protector never left either of their minds. It was the true beginning of their relationship, after all.
Her husband turned away from her, as if in shame. “It was so easy… with the claws. And… everything, really.”
She held his hand and nodded once he turned to her. A sign of understanding. It was not the time to speak, not yet. Belle wanted to hear more.
“When I was… him,” Adam never quite knew what to express when he was the Beast; sometimes shifting to another person, sometimes saying it as himself, “I knew no one could beat me. Animals, humans, anything. I could win any fight.”
She bites back the answer that a magical being could, but this is neither the time nor place (and probably there would never be the right time to bring the point of being, well, cursed by a fairy).
Belle holds his hand and draws small circles over his palm, soothing him. Just like she did long ago, when furs covered that entire hand.
He’d never been one for many words. Grunting, yes, but communicating in a non-aggressive way was still a challenge they were working through.
Together.
In these moments, when it’s just them, and there’s no need to play prince and princess, it feels like they’re back to their time in the library. No task to manage, no noble to please, no one to apologize to (in Adam’s case).
Just them, sharing a good book that inevitably leads to an even better conversation and more.
The different presence by her side doesn’t feel quite as different. Like her old (and first ever) friend, trying his best not to say the wrong thing and start a fight.
“I know you miss him, too.” Adam’s words pierce through her.
Belle should’ve known he’d notice. The once spoiled prince hated to study — something she was changing, step by step — but he was smart. And his old animal counterpart appearance helped him sharpen those senses even more.
She thinks about what to say. They trust each other and know deep secrets none outside this bedroom could imagine.
That doesn’t change the fact that this is a conversation filled with thorns and possible missteps. Much like the enchanted rose he still sees in his nightmares so often.
Before even discussing an engagement, they decided on many things: values, rules, safe words (for sex and for arguments, as they both tended to get incensed and say hurtful things) and so on. One of the main promises was not lying — at least to one another. And to always tell when one of them went too far, something Adam made her swear to uphold. Going back to his old behavior was one of his biggest fears… second only to her leaving.
Her first and oldest friend, the one she fell in love with (never mind appearances), her husband and her prince deserve utmost honesty from her.
“I do miss him.” She utters the words quietly but with no room for doubt.
The silence is brief but deafening. Belle continues.
“Dear, I know it is still you. But I knew you as Beast first.” She bites down on what she would say next (‘you can’t expect me to not miss him’) as it is not quite what she wants to say.
But she continues.
“I will always miss him. He was my first love, after all.” She sees him turn at that, eyes filled with tears he tried to fight. “And you are my second.”
It is the truth. Even though they are the same people, it is still a brand new experience. The path to learning each other's curiosities and quirks, navigating conversations and arguments, testing each other’s limits.
Belle had that with Beast for many months.
She also had that with Adam, for less time.
It was like falling in love (once more).
He knows he is the only one she’d ever loved as such, and the same goes for him.
“Belle,” He gruffs as he tries to fight the tears, now noticing the fight is lost by this point, to her delight (she always did like him gruffing or grunting). “Are you disappointed?”
Yes.
No.
Maybe.
A little.
For once, she can’t find the words. All her reading betrays her now, when she most desperately needs to convey her thoughts.
So she uses her experience. Remembering how often she had to ask her father to take better care of himself, to rest, to not feel as burdened. But to also tell him when an invention just had no future (a lesson she was still learning, as she hated to break his heart over his latest, not quite efficient, idea). This is what is needed now. No eloquent words or poetry, just simplicity. Honesty. And what she wishes in turn.
“It is a… big change, dear.” She breathes in, searching for the right words. “I’m still… getting used to it. Sometimes I just… forget myself.”
“So do I.” The words are huffed out, exasperated. As if admitting to it was a shame in itself.
She still needed to say more. Explain how it was, as she did for her father so often in the past. “Would you also not have to adapt if I had been the one cursed?”
Immediately, Adams scoffs.
“As if anyone would ever curse you.”
“Everything is possible.” Belle doesn’t want to talk about how beings of magic felt justified to curse even children, who was she to escape?
But tonight wasn’t a night for this discussion. They’d already talked about this at length.
“Very true. You’ve taught me that.” He smiled, and oh, there it was.
Beast’s toothy smile.
Yes, it was missing those dangerous-looking fangs, which made the sight both less thrilling but also more… endearing. A still awkward smile, too much tooth, but a sincere one.
Her husband’s wonderful, unforgettable smile.
Belle leans her head on his arm, never breaking eye contact.
She knows now, with absolute certainty.
Those intense, memorable blue eyes are her harbor, always.
She remembers it is, indeed, Beast who is looking at her.
Even though nothing else quite follows her memory (the much too soft skin, the small hands unhardened by manual labor, the too short height, the voice she can never grow used to) at least those eyes keep her focused. They calm her.
No matter the situation — whether they’re fighting, reading together, dancing, eating fancy meals or quick homemade dishes Belle whipped up for her father — those eyes made her remember who she was with.
Her darling, bumbling, well-meaning, temperamental, infuriating, smart, impatient, wonderful love.
“It is still you.” She says it to both of them. “Give me time.”
Those blue eyes reply more than words ever could with him. He understands.
Belle is so thankful to have this wonderful beast-man at her side. Darling friends, her dearest father and, of course, that incredible library (how could she not include that, after all). She’d been blessed with the most beautiful, if at times challenging, love story.
Better than any of her books.
“Just…” She can’t help but ask.
He is quick to kiss her, dispelling any of her worries. “Anything, Belle.”
“How do you feel about a beard, darling?”