Dusk. Adam rolled up the sleeves of his nightshirt, staring pensively at the view outside his balcony. The quarter moon had finally risen, casting the grounds in a silvery light, while across the viaduct the silhouetted forest looked like an army of giants waiting to strike. Around him, the cool air smelt of fresh soil and wet leaves.

At times like this, when the prince was alone, he often reminisced on his past as a Beast and how time had always haunted him. Whether he was counting the petals on the rose, or watching the sunset, he never forgot that time was non-erasable and nothing, no power on earth, could ever change that. Every petal he lost brought him closer to sealing his fate as a Beast, forever. Every sunrise he saw marked another day closer to his twenty-first birthday. Even now that he was human again, all it took was one look outside his balcony to remind him that the world outside his castle remained unchanged. "We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone," as Belle had read to him in a book once.

If only I could make time my subject, then I'd reverse it and wouldn't be in this situation right now.

It had been three weeks since Adam had proposed to Belle. In that time, they'd quickly rebuilt the relationship they'd left hanging the night Gaston had attacked the castle. Adam honestly didn't know how he could have lived without her, when so much of his happiness came from her – her smile, her intelligence, her laughter. Every day he spent with her, he learned something new about her. Every day he looked at her, those lonely days on the road became more and more like a passing dream. After three perfect weeks, he should have known he'd do something to mess everything up again. Something like an argument.

When Adam thought back to why they'd been arguing today, he knew he could have easily avoided it if only he'd controlled his temper. Since Belle's ankle had healed the week before, she'd taken it upon herself to help the servants clean up the castle before Adam's uncle arrived. Today, while Adam was busy working on some administrative papers with Cogsworth in the library, she'd decided to tackle his old study on the seventh floor. The room in question was filthy from ten years of neglect, the floor badly scratched and in desperate need of a washing. It was in such bad condition, in fact, that after closer inspection, Belle decided to remove all the furniture from the room so they could scrub the floor all at once instead of in sections. It was a smart plan, except that no one had told Adam about it. So when he walked into the room later that day in search of spare quills, and instead walked into a room with no furniture, he was furious.

"That's my room, Belle!" he shouted. "Why did you go in there without asking me?"

"We needed to clean the floor! It's filthy!" she retorted. "What else did you expect me to do?"

"You could have told me you were cleaning out my bureau before you went in there and started touching my things!"

"You were busy, and we need to get this room cleaned today! May I remind you're not the only person who lives in this castle, Adam?"

"That's not the point!" he snapped back at her. "The point is, you have no consideration for my private space and belongings! You always have to barge in wherever you feel like it, touching things you have no right to - just like that time in the West Wing. You're so…so selfish!"

"Me, selfish?" Belle looked abashed. "I've been nothing but slaving away out here, getting everything ready before your uncle arrives! But you on the other hand, you always have to overreact to everything, losing your temper and screaming over every minor detail, just like a –"

"A what?"

"A Beast!"

That was the last straw for Adam. The next minute, he and Belle had started yelling at each other so fiercely, they sent all the nearby servants running for cover. By the end of their argument, Belle stormed off to her room and Adam, who was about ready to smash something, went outside and took Magnifique out for a ride in the forest. It was there that his anger soon ebbed away, replaced by a heavy sense of guilt. He couldn't believe it. After a month of thinking he'd put the Beast behind him, all he needed was to say one insensitive thing to Belle to send their relationship back to square one. He hadn't meant to call her selfish, but he was angry that she'd touched his things, and the words had spilled out without reason. Now his only hope of making things right again was to apologize. If he still had a chance to apologize, that was. By the time he rode back to the castle, the sun had set and Belle had already gone to bed.

Back in the West Wing now, Adam drummed his fingers against the balcony, unsure of what he should do. It was too late to see Belle, but he wasn't sure he could sleep until he said sorry to her. At the same time, he was afraid that she wouldn't accept his apology. And he was also afraid that if he didn't act soon, Belle might choose to break off their engagement, pack her bags and leave the castle, forever.

He continued to wrestle with these troubling emotions when he heard a knock on the door. Wondering if a servant had come to call on him, he grabbed his night robe from the nearby couch and ran to the front of the room to answer it. It wasn't a servant. It was Belle.

One look at her and Adam wondered how she'd managed to walk so far from her room without anyone noticing. All she was wearing was her nightgown; no peignoir and no room slippers. Her hair was loose and tangled and her cheeks were dripping with tears.

"Belle!" he said in alarm. "What happened?"

"I...wanted to say I'm sorry for touching your furniture, Adam," she replied without looking at him. "You're absolutely right. I should have told you I was cleaning up your bureau, first. And I'm sorry I called you a Beast. I know that makes you upset. I was frustrated, and it slipped out. I didn't mean for things to get so out of hand."

Adam was astonished. In the seven months he'd known her, he'd never heard Belle apologize to him before. He always in the wrong in their arguments, and therefore he always had to ask for her forgiveness. It was never the other way around. "Belle, I'm the one who should be apologizing," he replied. "I didn't mean to call you selfish. I just…lost my temper. You were only trying to help. What I meant to say was that I'm glad you're doing all this work for me, truly. But…"

He paused as he watched Belle wipe a tear away from her face. That's when it hit him.

"You didn't just come here to say sorry, did you?"

She shook her head and sniffled. "I had a nightmare."

Adam's expression softened at these words. It may have only been a few weeks, but he still couldn't forget how Belle used to cry out in her sleep while they were on the road together. This was not something to take lightly. "Please come in."

Belle didn't hesitate as he guided her into the West Wing and sat her down on the nearest sofa. He left her side for a moment to close the door to the balcony, then returned, taking off his night robe and draping it around her shoulders.

"Tell me what happened," he said as he took a seat next to her.

Belle took a deep breath before she answered. "Gaston kidnapped me, and locked me in the asylum," she explained. "I was pregnant. And when the baby was born..." She shuddered. "…His eyes were just like your eyes. I tried to escape so I could find you, and tell you you had a son, and you had to keep him safe, but I couldn't because Gaston sent a mob to the castle to kill you. I started crying. And that's when I woke up."

Adam inhaled sharply through his nose. "Belle –,"

"I'm sorry!" she replied agitatedly. "I didn't mean to worry you like this. It's just, I felt so terrible, before I went to bed about our argument. And it made me think about how I felt when I thought you were dead, and what could have happened if Diotima hadn't come and –"

"Oh, Belle," Adam muttered, fixing her in a tight hug. "I know we don't always agree on everything, but I promise you, nothing's going to take me away from you...or..." He paused. "A son...if we have one. You have to believe that. You're one of the strongest people I've ever met. But I put you through some terrible things last month. You'd have to have a heart of steel to come out of this unscathed. I'd rather you come talk to me than keep this all to yourself."

Her eyes met his. Belle knew Adam was right. She'd always been a shoulder for others to cry on, but with him, she didn't always have to be. He was the one who had asked her what was wrong that night they'd danced together, letting her go to her father so she'd be happy. He was the one who'd lain with her in the West Wing because the grief she carried was too immense, and some things couldn't heal with time and words alone. Adam knew her pain more than anyone did, and more than that, he loved her, loved her enough to see her through the good, bad and ugly moments in their relationship. It didn't matter if she thought what she felt was insignificant. To him, it meant everything.

Sniffling again, Belle rested her head against Adam's shoulder and closed her eyes. He smelt like a fresh meadow, and his breathing had a soothing timbre to it. The more she listened, the more her nightmare and their argument seemed to fade from her memory. "Could I...stay with you, tonight?" she asked him finally. "I think I can sleep better when you're here with me."

He kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Of course you can. I'd worry about you all night if you didn't."

Several kisses later, Belle and Adam lay down on the bed. Adam was on his back while Belle was on her side, one hand on her fiancé's chest and the other propping up her head.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked, looking down at him.

"Mmm?"

"What did you miss the most when we were on the road together?"

He shifted, trying to think of a suitable answer. "I missed talking to you." he said finally.

"Really?" She looked surprised.

"Yes," he confirmed. "I never realized how much of an impact you made in my life until I cut you out completely. Whenever I looked at you, I would always wonder what you were thinking about or what sort of things we might talk about if…if I didn't think you hated me." He paused. "It's funny: I was so determined to get you and your father to safety, I never realized how frustrating it would be to spend a week with you and not say anything. It was almost like…like how Odysseus must have felt when he returned to Ithaca in disguise and saw his wife for the first time. He probably wanted to tell her it was him the moment they were alone, but he knew he'd ruin all his chances at restoring his kingdom if he did. No matter how much Odysseus loved Penelope, or how much she pined for him, he had to be sure she was faithful first. For a man who hadn't seen or talked with his wife in twenty years...that must have been very difficult."

Belle smiled. "That's a good analogy, except for one thing," she said. "Penelope didn't realize the beggar was Odysseus until after he won the archery tournament. I know it sounds strange, but I think there was a part of me that knew, right from the beginning, that it was you."

"You did?" Adam turned to her in disbelief. "But how? I never showed you my face."

"It wasn't a conscious realization," she emphasized. "More like an intuition. Whenever I was with you, I felt safe, as if I could tell you anything and you would listen. I thought it was all in my imagination at first, so I kept it to myself. Then later, when I had that dream about you, I knew I had to go back alone. It sounds foolish, but after our conversation in the tavern, I was afraid that if I stayed, and told you what I saw, you might say something to change my mind about returning. Does that make sense?"

Adam nodded. "You didn't want to be manipulated again, after what Gaston did to you and your father."

"I thought that if I listened to someone else, even let myself open up to the possibility of moving on, or admitting I was starting to have feelings for someone, I'd forget about you," Belle clarified. "I was the only one outside the castle who didn't think you were a monster, remember? I thought that if I tried to put you behind me, I'd be betraying your memory, and then it would be as if you never existed. I couldn't let that happen."

Belle's words struck a chord in Adam. Of course he didn't doubt that Belle loved him by now. But he was still touched to know that she'd been holding on to his memory when he was sure she wanted to forget him completely. "You really are Penelope," he told her, caressing her hair gently. "Loyal to the one she loved, even when she thought he was dead. Well, if it makes you feel better, I don't think I could have offered you anything more than friendship...if you'd decided not to leave that night. I'd feel guilty that I was lying to you and I'd be going against why I saved you in the first place. In the end, I'd be too scared of hurting you."

Belle bent her face closer to Adam. "And that's why I'm marrying you and not Gaston," she told him. "You value honesty over pride. You just need to have a little more faith in yourself now."

"I know," he said. "And I'm working on it."

Satisfied with this answer, she bent down to kiss him again.

Later that night, Adam snuggled closer to his fiancée, thinking of what a miracle it was to be beside her, despite all the hardships they'd faced. When he had first let Belle go to her father, Adam accepted his fate with open arms. He thought that Diotima had cursed him to torment him, to remind him he'd always be selfish, and that he would never deserve Belle, no matter how hard he tried to change for her. Now, he realized how blind he'd been. It wasn't wrong to want someone, but it was wrong to want them selfishly, never putting their needs before your own. Lust was momentary, but love was enduring. It alone could make a man from a Beast. Diotima hadn't only given Adam another chance to live by breaking his spell; she'd also given him the insight to understand this difference and realize that he did love Belle. He'd loved her all along.

As he came to this conclusion, a question came to Adam's mind. Would Gaston, too, learn to love the princess when he rescued her? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he might never know the answer. After all, no two minds were alike. Trying to predict someone else's life choices was like trying to count all the waves on the sea – impossible.

This may not have made Adam wise, but it certainly made him glad. For he realized now that good and bad things happened to people every day. But it was what they made from those things, not the situations themselves, that defined who they really were.

Belle carefully descended the grand staircase; one hand on the balustrade and the other holding up the hem of her golden ball gown. A smile spread across her face as she saw Adam waiting for her on the landing. He was dressed in his old blue jacket and yellow waistcoat, altered to fit his human form.

"So, no more hoods?" she said once they were in earshot of each other.

"No more hoods," he repeated. "Unless you want me to wear one?"

Belle laughed. "You have a nice face. You shouldn't hide that."

Adam smiled bashfully back at Belle. Even though he'd been human for over a month now, he still wasn't used to hearing her compliment him on his appearance. It sounded strange to him, as though she were talking about somebody else – not him, the Beast. He offered her his arm, and together, they made their way down to the ballroom. They were only halfway there, however, when Adam started to notice that Belle was walking much slower than him.

"Forget something?" he asked, turning to her.

"What? Oh no. I guess I'm a bit nervous, that's all."

"You nervous?" He looked at her, alarmed. "Belle, you can't be! If you're nervous, then I'll get nervous and we'll both give ourselves away."

"What do you have to be nervous about?" she retorted. "This is your uncle we're meeting with! Your family."

"Yes, but he's an uncle I haven't seen in over ten years," he reminded her. "I'm not even sure I remember what he looks like anymore, to be honest."

"At least he'll know who you are," she argued. "I'm the 'mystery fiancée' who has to make a good first impression on him, remember?" She sighed. "Maybe I'd feel better if we went over Lumiere and Cogsworth's cover story again. Just one more time?"

"Very well," Adam stopped in the middle of the hall and turned to face her. "Over ten years ago, a group of bandits kidnapped me while I was riding my horse alone in the woods. They were planning to hold me as a ransom for the king. I managed to escape; but I fell down a gorge, hit my head on some sharp rocks and lost my memory. The bandits couldn't see me in the dark and left me for dead, thinking I'd fallen into the river and drowned. For the next nine years, I wandered the countryside as a beggar, panhandling and sleeping in cathedrals to stay alive. Then, the winter before my twenty-first birthday, I contracted pneumonia and would have died if –"

"– if my father and I hadn't found you while we were coming back from my aunt's," Belle finished, remembering her part in the story. "I brought you to our cottage and nursed you back to health. I knew you had no home of your own, so once you recovered, I offered you a place with us, working as our farm boy. Every evening, when you finished the chores I would make you a meal in the kitchen. Soon, we became friends, and then we fell in love."

"That's right," Adam nodded. "Then one day, Philippe kicked me in the head while I was trying to get him into the pen during a thunderstorm. All my memories came back to me. I knew I didn't want to leave you, after all the kindness you'd shown me. So I decided to marry you, and take you and your father back to my castle as payment for saving my life. Which brings us both here."

"I don't know, Adam," Belle said, wrinkling her nose. "It sounds like a very odd story to me. Are you sure your uncle will believe it?"

"Lumiere says that my uncle is as gullible as a chicken," Adam replied. "As long as we keep the story straight and act the parts, he won't suspect a thing. And if he does...well, I still made you a promise." He caressed the side of her face. "We'll run away from here and live the rest of our lives as commoners. I don't need a castle to be happy."

Belle smiled at Adam and kissed him on the cheek. His sincerity reassured her, but she still hoped that everything would go well, for both their sakes.

The ballroom looked smaller than Belle remembered, owing to the fact that it was filled with over fifty guests, wearing gowns and jackets of every color imaginable. After Cogsworth announced Belle and Adam to the crowd, the prince nervously thanked everyone for coming, and then nodded at Fife to start the orchestra.

As the sound of violins and harpsichord filled the room, Belle felt considerably more at ease. This was her engagement ball, after all – a time for her and Adam to celebrate and enjoy themselves after all the trauma they'd faced. She watched as the guests made their way to dance, and that's when she spotted a familiar set of faces in the crowd. "Adam, look!" she exclaimed, tugging at her fiancé's arm.

Adam turned to where Belle was pointing. There, waving at them from across the room was Francis, Irène, Damien and Clothilde - only the servants had dressed them so well for the occasion, one would hardly guess they were a family of modest farmers from Bridoré. Seeing that the royal couple was approaching them, Francis and Damien bowed while Irène and Clothilde curtsied, respectfully.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, your highness," said Damien.

"Indeed!" Clothilde chirped beside him. "A prince in my own house, who would have thought! I only wish I'd tidied things up a bit before you came. After living in a beautiful castle like this, our house must have looked like an absolute pigsty to you."

"Oh, not at all, madame," Adam replied, embarrassed. "Believe me, after spending half a week sleeping in the woods, your home was exactly what we needed. Besides, we were only passing through the countryside until we managed to get in touch with my uncle. We weren't expecting to stay in a palace."

"Well, regardless, we were more than happy to help you reunite with your uncle," Damien replied. "And congratulations to both of you on your engagement! I just knew there was a spark between you two, from the very moment I laid eyes on you." He gave Adam a wink, subtly reminding him of the conversation they'd exchanged back in the tavern.

"Yes, thank you so much for inviting us, your majesties," Irène added. "For farmers like us, the chance to wear such fine outfits and walk around in a huge castle is almost unfathomable. I don't know how we can ever repay you."

"Please," Belle said dismissively. "It was the least we could do, after you were all so kind to us. And you all look absolutely stunning in those outfits. How is Yannick doing, by the way?"

"Oh, he's been a great help to us, princess," Irène replied. "We can't thank you enough for sending him to help us with the farm. He's a fast learner, and he's become a great big brother figure for Edgar and Rachel, too. But are you sure you don't need him to help you back here at your castle? We wouldn't want you to lose one of your staff members at our expense."

"Let's just say that Yannick has been working in the kitchens for a long time now," Adam emphasized. "He could use a change of scenery."

"Well I've certainly got no complaints," Francis said as he placed an arm over his wife. "With Yannick and Edgar helping me in the fields now, I can get the chores done twice as fast, and spend time looking after my wife while she brings our next little one into the world."

Belle's eyes lit up in excitement. "You're expecting?" she asked Irène.

"Why, yes," Irène replied, blushing as she placed her hand over her stomach. "I found out just a week after you two left as a matter of fact. The midwife tells me he'll be due in November."

"Well congratulations!" Belle and Adam said together.

"Merci," her husband smiled. "Irène and I were hoping to name him after you, Prince Adam, if he's a boy. That bravery you showed us when you saved our Edgar from the fire is something we'd like all our children to strive for, in every aspect of their lives. But only if that's alright with you, of course."

Adam was stunned. To him, knowing that a family wanted to name their unborn child after him was just as flattering as knowing Maurice wanted to spend time building inventions with him. "It would be an honour, monsieur," he replied.

Shortly after this conversation, the farmers excused themselves to dance. Belle and Adam had just enough time to move to the back of the room when another guest approached them. This time, Belle could tell he was a nobleman, not only from his straight posture, but from the classy outfit he was wearing; a lavender jacket with grey silk britches. His blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, and his gray eyes conveyed to Belle a sense of sternness and seriousness. The only physical attributes that gave away his relation to Adam was his tall build and his ears, which protruded out from his head the same way her fiancé's did.

"Ah, so there's my nephew!" he said as he approached the young couple.

"Uncle Claude," Adam replied with a nervous bow. "Welcome! So pleased you could make it."

"Merci pour m'inviter," his uncle responded. "It's good to be back. I must confess, after abandoning this estate for over ten years, I wasn't sure what condition it would be in once I arrived. But I must say, I'm quite impressed. Everything looks exactly as I remembered. Of course, I can't say the same for you nephew, can I?" He stared at Adam attentively. "It looks like you've grown two feet taller, at least. And this is the young peasant woman who saved your life, I presume?" he continued, gesturing to Belle.

"Yes, uncle," Adam said, putting an arm around her. "This is Belle, my fiancée."

"Hmm…well her name certainly speaks for itself," his uncle replied, studying her with interest. "Tell me, mademoiselle, can you read?"

"Yes, your highness." Belle replied, trying to keep her voice as stately as possible.

"Write?"

"Yes, your highness."

"Sing?"

She froze. "Uh...,"

"She's a wonderful singer," Adam said, covering for her. "She has a...a...an impeccable voice range, and perfect pitch!"

"Hmm," Claude scratched his chin thoughtfully. "She'll have to grace us with a private recital sometime. Well, nephew, I've put a lot of thought into the letter you sent me, and given that this young woman has performed such a virtuous act in nursing you back to health, I think your reasons for marrying her are only just. And she does seem to be educated, which is a big asset for any princess, of course. So allow me to be the first to say: bienvenue à la famille, mademoiselle."

Belle was at a complete loss for words. "Th-thank you, your highness," she replied as she accepted the prince's hand to shake.

"Mon plaisir," Claude nodded. To Adam, he said: "Nephew, I suggest you don't drink too much wine at dinner tonight, hmm? I need you up bright and early tomorrow so I can fill you in on everything you'll need to take care of during my trip next month."

"Your...trip?" Adam repeated, confused.

"Oh yes. Didn't you read my last letter? The king has given me management of a plantation in Saint-Domingue, which means I have to make trips down there regularly to talk with the governor and keep records of how much stock we're sending back to France. The voyage alone will take a month at least. So I'll need someone to look after the province in my absence. And what a better candidate than you? Our long-lost prince."

"Oh," said Adam, wishing he'd received this memo sooner. "Of course. Absolutely, uncle."

"Excellent." Claude smiled. "So we'll meet tomorrow at eight, in your father's old study? I suppose you remember where that is?"

"Yes, uncle."

"Bon. Enjoy the festivities, both of you."

"That was a shorter conversation than I thought it would be," Belle said, once Adam's uncle was out of hearing distance.

The prince shrugged. "With the number of aristocrats here, I guess he has to keep his conversations short so he can speak to everyone before the ball's over."

"Oh. Well he seemed to like me, at least," Belle said, relieved.

"Of course he did!" Adam replied. "After the resourcefulness you demonstrated when you saved my life? You're going to turn this whole province around once you become a princess, Belle. I just know it."

"Oh, you're just trying to flatter me."

"You're my fiancée, why shouldn't I? Now may I have this dance, ma belle?"

Belle smiled at Adam's formality but graciously accepted his arm, walking with him to the centre of the room with the other dancers. Once there, Adam put one arm around Belle's waist. Following the motion of the other dancers, he and Belle began to move in a graceful circle around the room. As they did, they were only vaguely aware of the handful of servants watching them from the sidelines. Given how many months the staff had been waiting for Belle and the master to fall in love, the sight of them together and engaged exceeded anything they could put into words.

"I have a proposal for you," Adam said once the first movement of the piece had ended.

"What's that?" Belle asked curiously.

"After our wedding, you and I will go on a road trip. A real one this time. We'll go anywhere you want: Paris, Orléans, Versailles. If my uncle permits it, we can even go to Marseilles and take a ship around the Mediterranean to explore the coast. We can go to Greece, Albania, Croatia or Italy. You just say the word, Belle, and we're there."

"Oh Adam, that sounds wonderful!" Belle exclaimed. For years, she'd longed to go on an adventure like the characters in her storybooks. To be able to visit the places she'd spent so long reading about was an absolute dream come true to her. "Could my father come, too?" she added, jokingly.

Adam laughed. "If he wants. Something tells me he'll be happy staying right here, though."

Instinctively, he and Belle turned to see Maurice and Mrs. Potts talking animatedly with each other on the other side of the room. Belle felt herself smiling as she watched them. Mrs. Potts and her father had been spending a lot of time together lately, a fact that had been met with much pleasure by the castle residents, herself included.

"Oh, it's so nice to see them warming up to each other," she said as she turned back to Adam. "After my mother died, I always worried that if I ever left my papa to lead a life of my own, he'd be lonely. I'm glad to know he'll be in good company here, at least."

"As he should be," Adam replied. "He's your father. He deserves to feel happy here. Just like you."

As the next movement of the piece began, Belle ventured to ask Adam: "You told me back when we were in Bridoré that life doesn't always play out as perfectly as it does in the fairy tales. Do you still believe that's true?"

Adam thought on that for a moment. "Well I don't think everyone's life can be that perfect in real life," he answered. "Love, no matter what kind, always requires work. You can't leave everything to fate and expect everything's going to be perfect. The biggest mistake I made when I was in disguise was that I rejected the chance to love, because I didn't think I was in love. It was stupid and it cost me almost everything. I know I never want to that foolish again."

Belle smiled. "I'm glad. Because I know I'm not planning to let go of you anytime soon." Then she pulled him into a kiss, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. Adam, who couldn't get enough of Belle's kisses, reciprocated her embrace as though they had all the time in the world.

"The door is now open; it is simply a matter of finding the courage to walk through," the enchantress had told him once. When he lay dying in the rain that fateful night, he hadn't understood her words. Now, after all the hardships he'd faced, after almost losing Belle to Gaston, he finally did. Now, he could say he was glad he'd crossed over that threshold, glad, that despite the stumbles and near-wrong turns he'd made that he'd ended up back where he was meant to be. The cloud of uncertainty that had formed from the first day he'd doubted Belle's feelings for him had finally cleared. All that was left now was a bright future, where he could look forward to dancing with her for the rest of his life.

"Oho, you've outdone yourself again, Diotima!" Aristide said with a smile as he watched Belle and the prince share in a kiss from the other side of the ballroom. "True love at its finest."

"I told you he could do it, didn't I?" Diotima replied smugly. "All he needed was little push, and everything else he did out of his own volition."

"Indeed. But you have to admit, it was a pretty close shave," Aristide replied. "What with that hunter and those wolves – it's a darn good thing that boy knows how to aim! Not that I'm complaining, of course. There's nothing duller than a story about two people who fall in love, get married and that's it. Add a touch of dramatic tension to a story to get people biting at their fingernails and they'll remember it for ages."

"I concur," Diotima nodded. Before she could continue the conversation however, she heard a loud buzzing from her dress. Aristide turned around and stared at her in bewilderment.

"Diotima, you can't put that blasted mirror of yours away, for just a moment?" he said as he watched her pull her magic mirror out of her pocket. "This is an engagement party for goodness sakes!"

"I'm just keeping an eye on my latest subject, Aristide, nothing to get your socks tied up over," Diotima replied. Giving the glass a quick wipe, she looked around to ensure no one was watching and then said: "Show me Gaston."

"Ugh, it's disgusting!" Gaston said in outrage.

The princess – if he could even call her that – was definitely not what the enchantress had shown him in her magic bubble all those weeks ago. That princess was a beautiful woman with a perfect complexion and body that would make Gaston the envy of his entire village. But this was something else entirely. A chubby, green-skinned creature with floppy soup spoons for ears. She was absolutely hideous.

"That enchantress completely ripped me off, LeFou," he continued, turning back to look at his lackey. "She told me that I'd be rescuing a princess who's as beautiful as me! Not this thing."

"It's a spell!" Princess Fiona snapped, putting her hands on her hips. "Didn't your enchantress tell you anything?" Walking around the brimstone, she recited dramatically: "By night one way, by day another, this shall be the norm. Until you take true love's first kiss, then take love's true form."

Gaston furrowed his brow in confusion. That poem was just way too many words for his head to process. "Could you say that again?" he asked. "In plain French?"

Fiona sighed exasperatedly. "You have to kiss me, and then I'll be beautiful. Okay?" She knew that her rescuer was not exactly cultured, but she hadn't expected him to be this thick-headed.

"Gross!" Gaston said, taking a step back. "There's no way I'm kissing you! Especially when I know you look like that. Come on LeFou, we're leaving."

"Uh, Gaston?" LeFou interrupted. "Remember what the enchantress said? We can't go back to our world unless you find a way to break the spell on the princess. I don't know about you, but I don't really want to be stuck here forever. This place gives me the creeps."

Gaston paused. That is true, he thought. He had given the enchantress his word that he would break the princess's curse. But the problem was, he wasn't in love with her! He couldn't be, not when she was so unattractive. He stared out at the horizon.

Then it suddenly hit him. HE might not want the princess, but surely there was some desperate, lonely man out there would love to kiss her and have her as a wife! If Gaston could find him and unite him with the princess, then the spell would break, he'd fulfill the enchantress's bargain, and he'd return home, safe and sound. Sure, he wouldn't return have a beautiful princess on his arm, but he could still brag about how he'd saved the princess and found someone to break her curse. Heck, he could almost say he was being generous, handing her off to someone more desperate than him. This was the best idea he'd had all day.

"All right, new plan," he said aloud. "LeFou, you stay here with the princess. I'm going to find someone who can break the spell for us."

"Wait! You're just going to leave me here?" Fiona said in disbelief.

"Why not?" he said, looking back at her. "I won't be too long. Just until I find someone ugly enough to kiss you."

Fiona curled her lip up in a scowl. She was liking her rescuer less and less by the minute. "You're unbelievable!" she said, throwing all her princess etiquette aside. "If you were a real gentleman you'd kiss me anyway, seeing as you're the one who rescued me!"

Gaston drew his brows together in rage. "What did you say?"

"I said, if you were a real gentleman –"

"No one talks to Gaston that way!"

"Well it's about time someone did!"

LeFou sat on a nearby rock and sighed as he watched Gaston and the princess bicker. He could always count on Gaston to dive headfirst into a situation without considering the consequences. This was going to be a long and difficult journey for all of them.

The End

(Warning: Super long author's note to follow)

So that's the end of the story, guys! To think I've been working on this fic for almost three years, crazy! That said, I love this story as much as I hate it, at times I think its impressive, other times I think it's just begging for a rewrite. I could go on, but that would take a while. So, let's continue...

This fan fiction was inspired by the movie The Princess Bride and the character Ezio Auditore from the video game Assassin's Creed 2 (and it's sequels). Both their stories drew me to the idea of writing an alternate ending fic where the Beast/Prince rescues Belle from an unwilling marriage to Gaston, without giving away his identity. I thought it was a ridiculous idea that wouldn't attract many readers – after all, who wants to read an angsty story about Belle and the Prince when you can have the happy canon one? – but the review count tells me otherwise. To this day, I will never understand why my fic attracted so many people (But I'm very glad that it did!).

Since this is one of the longest stories I've ever written, you can guarantee that I had a lot of help along the way. So I'd like to send my thanks to the following people for lending a hand during my three-year long journey:

1. To BronyBraeburn, for encouraging me to publish this story, beta reading my first few chapters and being there to bounce ideas off of when the plot was still in its infancy. This story would be a forgotten piece of text on my iPod touch if not for you.

2. To TrudiRose, for being my second beta reader and making sure all my chapters were shipshape, especially for any scene involving Gaston. I'm pretty sure you've heard this before, but if there was ever a degree for Gaston you'd basically have a doctorate :) Your advice has helped me A LOT, and hopefully will help me with any writing projects (either fan fiction, or original fiction) I take on in the future.

3. To the members of the Bittersweet and Strange forum for being there to answer my obscure questions and giving me suggestions for loose plot ideas I don't have the luxury of discussing with people in real life. You are all amazing and super helpful people, you should be proud!

4. To my tumblr followers, for encouraging me whenever I felt frustrated, especially while trying to plow through these last three chapters. It's always nice to remember that writing isn't a race and there's people out there who are willing to wait as long as it takes for an update.

5. And last (but not least) to ALL my readers and reviewers, who waited so patiently for my updates, even with all the school/health/family related things happening in my life. This story wouldn't have come as far as it did, if not for all of you! So thanks!

I like to leave a special surprise for my readers after I've finished a multi-chapter fic, so if you visit the link below you will be taken to the official writing playlist for A Prince in Disguise. This is basically a collection of all the soundtracks I listened to while I was writing or working out ideas for "Prince", arranged in chronological order from early to final chapters. The total playing time comes to about 2 hours, so you can listen to some, all, or none of the songs if you wish. The link is here (remove spaces): goo . gl / TRX3UX

What's next for my writing? I don't know right now. Seeing as I don't have any fresh ideas for Beauty and the Beast stories, and don't have the motivation to write a full Gaston/Fiona redemption fic, any new stories I write will most likely be prompt fills you can read on my AO3 (see my profile for the link). Come 2015, there's a chance I may write a Beauty and the Beast crossover fic with Assassin's Creed, in light of their new video game set in the French Revolution, but it all depends on how much I like it, or if I think the plot can connect to anything in the BATB universe. I understand that not all of you play video games, so I don't expect I'll get as many readers for it if I ever publish it. But I'll send you some extra cookies if you do stop by!

Until then,

The Green Archer, over and out!