Belle awoke in the middle of the night. She sat straight up in bed. The hair on her neck was raised and she was drenched in sweat. She assumed she must have had a nightmare. It would happen from time to time. She rarely ever remembered what they had been about.
And then she heard howling. It was far away, off in the distance. Likely coming from the woods. It sounded as though the wolves were fighting.
She tried to brush it off and go back to sleep, but her sleep was restless for the rest of the night. She woke up and fell back asleep several more times before morning came.
When she finally woke up at an acceptable time; she felt like she hadn't slept at all. Still, she reluctantly pulled herself out of bed to get dressed for the day.
"Good morning, papa," Belle greeted her father as she entered their main room. He was at the table eating breakfast.
"Good morning. How did you sleep?"
"Fine," she answered, not wanting him to worry for no good reason. "Have you heard anything?"
"What do you mean?" he asked.
She cleared her throat. "Last night. The full moon. I just hope no one got hurt this time."
"Oh," Maurice said, realisation clouding his face. "I haven't heard anything. I've already checked on the stables today and the horses are all fine."
"Good," she replied, preparing a meal for herself. "Papa, can I ask you something?"
"Of course," Maurice answered, perplexed.
"Do you believe in anything... otherworldly?" She sat down across from him with her breakfast.
Maurice thought for a moment. "As in, faeries? Magic? Wizards and witches?"
"Werewolves."
Maurice's eyebrows shot up. "Well, I don't know. I think there's all sorts of things in this world that we haven't yet discovered. Werewolves could, I suppose, be one of those things."
"So you believe in the possibility?" she asked.
Maurice nodded slowly. He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. "With how regular these animal attacks have been, it could certainly be a possibility. Not the only one, but one of them. The fact that it always happens on a full moon, of all nights, seems to point toward that conclusion."
Belle hummed noncommittally.
"What do you believe?" her father asked.
Belle didn't want to believe in werewolves. To her, werewolves had always been a story parents told their children to keep them away from the woods and safe in bed at night. It was a horrible fantasy story meant to cause fear and revulsion. They made no logical sense. How could the moon cause a human being to transform into another creature entirely?
But Belle couldn't ignore the strange things that were happening in her village. The attacks that always happened during a full moon, Gaston's story about killing a wolf that turned into a man, and Adam being attacked by a wolf and healing within days. They were too strange to explain away with logic. She had to accept that there was something happening in Peu-de-Forêt. And if werewolves were real, then Gaston was one. And if Adam had survived a werewolf attack, that must mean that...
"I don't think I can pretend not to believe in werewolves anymore," she said, staring out the window at the hints of the forest she could spot beyond their home.
"Well, you've always been the brains of this household," Maurice chuckled. "If you believe, it must be so." Belle wasn't very reassured by that.
After her morning chores, she took Philippe to go visit the Villeneuve manor. She knew she needed to see Adam after the previous night. She needed to see if he was okay.
She knocked on the manor's door to no response. She worried, wondering if something had happened. It was a silly, irrational fear. Of course Adam wasn't a werewolf. He couldn't possibly be. It was too ghastly to imagine.
She knocked again, anxiously shifting from side to side. Finally, Madame Potts opened the door and greeted her.
"Good morning, dear," Madame Potts smiled. The smile didn't quite meet her eyes like it usually did. "Are you here to see Monsieur Villeneuve?"
"I am," Belle nodded.
"I'm afraid he isn't feeling well this morning. I think he caught a chill in this weather."
"I would still like to see him, if I may?"
Madame Potts hesitated, but gave in. She moved aside to let Belle enter.
"I'll go and prepare some tea," she said before hurrying off. It was odd, it felt like she was avoiding Belle.
Belle wandered her way upstairs. It occurred to her that she had no idea where Adam actually slept. She had been in almost every part of the manor aside from the bedrooms. She opened the first unfamiliar door she came across and peered in. It was a bedroom, but it was entirely abandoned. She kept moving.
"Looking for Adam?" a voice called to her.
Belle jumped, though she wasn't sure why. She turned to see Lumiere standing at the end of the corridor.
"I am, yes."
"Follow me."
She caught up with him and followed him across the manor. She had been looking in the wrong wing entirely.
Lumiere didn't talk as he led her along, which was unusual. He was normally brimming with conversation topics and quick jokes.
At last they reached a door that must have been Adam's.
"You know, Mademoiselle," Lumiere said with a quirk of his lips, his humour finally returning. "It is very improper for you to be in the master's bedroom like this."
"Oh, please," Belle remarked in turn. "You're married to my best friend, I've heard every rumour about you, Monsieur."
Lumiere laughed. "Touché, Mademoiselle." Lumiere knocked on the door to no response. "He may still be asleep. I believe he had a long night." He opened the door regardless and moved aside to let Belle enter alone. "I will leave the door ajar, otherwise Madame Potts would have my head," he said before departing.
Belle peered towards the bed. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting. Blood, perhaps. Sheets torn asunder and furniture ripped to shreds. But everything looked pristine. In the middle of a large four poster bed was an Adam sized lump under the blankets.
"Adam," she called softly, approaching the bed. He didn't move at all. "Adam," she repeated. She carefully reached out a hand to touch his shoulder.
He jolted upright immediately, startling Belle and causing her to stumble backward. Adam stared at her with wide eyes.
He looked tired, but not injured or otherwise unwell. It was a small relief.
"Belle," he stated. He blinked a few times, as if he wasn't sure of what he was seeing. "You're here. Why are you here?"
If he wasn't a werewolf, it was probably rather odd for her to have shown up in his bedroom in the morning, she realised.
She wanted to express how concerned she was for him, how horrible the howling in the woods had been the night before and how it made her think of the previous month when he had been attacked. She wanted to approach this tactfully, but instead, without thinking much about it, she asked, "Are you a werewolf?"
"Was anyone hurt?" was his response. He seemed to realise it was a strange way to respond immediately, scrunching his nose in a wince.
"Adam," she said gently. "It's really a 'yes' or 'no' question."
Adam swallowed visibly. He looked away from Belle. "If I said I was, would you call me a lunatic?"
"Of course not," she said reassuringly, moving forward and sitting on the edge of the bed. She reached out to grab his hand and hold it in hers. "I would believe you."
"Then you must be here to tell me you're no longer interested in marriage," he said flatly.
Belle furrowed her eyebrows. "What? No. I'm here because I'm worried about you. I wanted to see that you were alright."
He looked back at her, confused. "I'm a monster now. You didn't agree to that. I wouldn't blame you in the slightest if you wanted-."
"Adam," she sighed. "This is a lot to process, but it doesn't make me see you any differently. You're still Adam Villeneuve. You're still the boy I grew up with. You're still the man I love."
"This goes a little far beyond 'in sickness and in health,' Belle," he said weakly. He looked away again.
She grabbed his face in her hands, forcing him to make eye contact. "There's only enough room in our relationship for one infuriatingly stubborn person, and I refuse to relinquish that title. You listen to me, Adam Villeneuve. I am not giving up on you just because of some curse." Adam's eyes widened. "Obviously I can't make you marry me, but I will not let you push me away just because you think you're a monster now."
"I don't deserve you," he said, hopelessly. He looked at her with wide vulnerable eyes.
"No one deserves anyone," she shook her head. "Love is about choice, and I'm choosing you."
"So wise," he said with a half-hearted and lopsided smile.
She shifted closer to him on the bed and he moved aside to make space for her.
"Do you remember anything?" She asked.
Adam shook his head. "I don't. Not really, not anything specific. Wind, the cold, the leaves. And then I woke up next to a deer. I hate to tell you about this, but I think you deserve the full truth if you intend to stay with me. I don't remember it at all, but I must have killed and eaten a deer toward the end of the night."
Belle fought back a grimace. "Well, we've all had venison. That's not so bad."
"But you've never had live venison," he raised an eyebrow.
At least it made her feel better to see his teasing jokes seeping through his exhausted exterior.
"No," she said slowly. "But that isn't what I would consider to be a monstrous act. And even so, if you don't remember it at all, was that even really you? Maybe the wolf is its own separate entity that takes over control on the full moon. It doesn't sound like you were in charge of your own actions. I doubt the other werewolf is, either."
"Only Belle Beaumont would find out that a beast of mythological proportions exists and try to think about it analytically instead of cowering in fear." His smile now was much more genuine, much fonder.
"The full moon is past, there's nothing for me to be afraid of now. All we can do is try and figure out what's going on and how we can stop it."
"It's a curse, Belle. I don't know that it can be stopped with anything but my own death."
She kissed him on the forehead. "That isn't going to happen. I will not let that happen."
He reached a hand up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Belle's ear. "I suppose if anyone could find a way to fix the unfixable, it would be a Beaumont. Genius seems to run in your family."
She leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder as he wrapped a comforting arm around her. It was all extremely improper for an unmarried pair, and even with all the werewolf drama it would surely incite Madame Potts to see it.
Belle sighed. "If werewolves are caused by a curse, that implies that magic exists in the world. If a curse can be done, it can be undone. What goes up must come down."
"I admire your confidence. And thank you. For staying. You don't have to. I wouldn't expect you to."
"I'm staying. It's going to take more than a magic wolf to make me leave."
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There were, surprisingly, books that covered werewolves in the Villeneuve family library. Of course it was all myths and folklore, but now that Belle knew werewolves were real she reasoned that these stories must have come from somewhere.
There was the ancient Greek myth of the king Lycaon, who tricked Zeus into consuming human flesh. In his anger, Zeus unleashed his fury upon the king and punished him by transforming him into a wolf. In Norse mythology, there was a tale of a father and son who used enchanted wolf skins to transform into the beasts themselves.
Werewolf hunts had taken place throughout Europe which, much like the witch hunts, lead to people being accused and executed for being a werewolf. Belle shuddered to think how many of those people must have been innocent. Most of them had likely never even known the horrors of a real werewolf.
There were many accounts of small villages just like hers being plagued by strange attacks. Could they all be the result of werewolves? Were there other creatures of the night lurking in reality?
Adam paced behind the desk she was sitting at, worrying at his lip as he read.
"Have you found anything noteworthy?" Belle asked, turning to look at him.
Adam cleared his throat. "Stubbe, Peter as principal malefactor, was judged first to have his body laid on a wheel, with red hot burning pincers in ten several places to have the flesh pulled off from the bones," he read aloud. "After that, his legs and arms to be broken with a wooden axe or hatchet, afterward to have his head strook from his body, then to have his carcass burned to ashes."
"Good lord. What's that from?"
He shut the book. "That is the punishment that the town of Bedburg deemed appropriate for a werewolf. Alleged werewolf, mind you. He may have just been a human murderer."
"They won't do that to you."
"I bloody well hope not," he said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Sorry, some of my English cousins' terminology may have rubbed off on me in my time abroad.
Belle almost laughed. He caught her amused expression and seemed to relax, his shoulders less tense and his brow unfurrowed.
"Sometimes I forget how English you are," she commented. She received a quirk of a lip in response.
The library doors opened and Lumiere entered. He seemed to be on a mission but drew short when he saw Belle.
"Monsieur Villeneuve," Lumiere, uncharacteristically formal.
Adam shifted uncomfortably. "Have you spoken to Madame Potts today?" he asked the man.
Lumiere's eyes flitted nervously to Belle before settling his gaze back on Adam. "I have. I was hoping to speak to you in private."
"Anything you want to speak to me about you can say in front of Mademoiselle Beaumont."
"I am not sure if-."
"I know," Belle interrupted, closing her book with a soft sound.
"You... know?" Lumiere asked, speaking carefully to avoid implying anything specific.
"She knows," Adam nodded. "I had to tell her. It wouldn't have been fair."
"I figured it out on my own, actually," Belle added. Adam cast a quick fond glance her way.
"I see," Lumiere said blankly.
"If you want to go, Lumiere, I would not judge you for it," Adam said. "I will continue to pay you until you find new work. I wouldn't want to put you in a bad spot."
"Oh," Lumiere's eyebrows raised in surprise. "No, actually. Thank you, but no. I intend to stay."
"Really?" Adam asked, surprised in turn.
"Of course, Monsieur. You are my friend. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."
Adam raised his arms and then dropped them. "I am uninjured."
Lumiere seemed a bit relieved at that. "I heard howling last night. It sounded rather aggressive. I had worried..."
"I heard it, too," Belle said, sitting up straight. She had nearly forgotten. "It sounded like the two wolves were fighting."
"The two wolves," Lumiere asked, mouth agape.
"Gaston LeGume," Adam said.
"Gaston is a werewolf?"
Belle and Adam exchanged a serious look. Lumiere pulled out a chair and sat down, running his hands through his red hair.
"He confessed to me," Belle said. "He told me that- That he shot the wolf in August, on the night that Monsieur Villeneuve died. He said that the wolf scratched him. And he said that the wolf transformed into the man as he died."
"And Gaston... he is the one that attacked Adam last month?" Lumiere said slowly, putting the pieces together.
Adam shuddered. "Yes. He must have been. Unless there is yet another wolf, but I don't want to consider that."
Lumiere jolted slightly in his seat. "Gaston knows this! He is knowingly going into the woods with his hunters and putting them in danger! Mon dieu, he has already killed three of his own men." He was angry, a rare emotion for Lumiere, who might have been the most optimistic person Belle had ever known.
"Did you hear any news on your way here this morning?" Belle asked him.
Lumiere shook his head. "I did not. Normally if someone had been hurt or killed, we would have heard of it by now. Word spreads quickly. I don't think anything too disastrous happened last night. But we have to stop him, don't we?"
"We?" Adam asked, laughing nervously. "This is my problem and mine alone. I appreciate your support, Lumiere, but-."
"No, Monsieur, this is our problem," Lumiere stated. "You are my friend. Your problems are my problems. And Gaston is Peu-de-Forêt's problem, and I will stand for my village."
"You will not go through this alone," Belle added. "We will not let you."
She watched a shiver run through Adam as he gave them a grateful smile.
"I... thank you," he said, after a few moments of silence. "Thank you both."
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Lumiere, for his part, was sent home to his mother. She was the superstitious type, a trait that Lumiere himself had not inherited but was nonetheless grateful for. If anyone in the village knew anything about werewolves it would be her.
Belle and Adam went into the village, deciding it was important to appear as normal as possible. They walked side by side at a close but respectable distance.
"We should tell Madame Joubert, should we not?" Adam asked quietly as they walked.
"I'm not sure. I think we should tell as few people as possible, but she is my closest friend and Lumiere's wife. It may be within her right to know."
"I had the same thought. No one else though, I think. The less people that are in on the secret the better."
The village was peaceful that day. The snow that had fallen over the village had melted as autumn fought to keep its presence over winter, leaving the fallen leaves on the ground a muddy colour and texture. It wasn't very pretty but it was better than the ice cold weather that would soon be meeting the village.
Belle worried for Adam when the winter months finally did come.
"Maybe we should find you some clothes that are large enough not to get too damaged next month," Belle suggested in a whisper. "I wouldn't want you to freeze."
Adam hummed thoughtfully. "That may work. Some of my father's old clothes may suffice, he used to be much larger."
Adam stiffened beside her and his eyebrows furrowed.
"Adam?"
He had noticed Gaston's presence before she had. The hunter was leaving the tavern with a few of his hunters following behind. He looked well rested and he was once again walking perfectly fine without his cane. The men behind him were laughing. Belle felt relieved seeing the hunters in good spirits. If they were in a good mood then surely nothing terrible had happened the previous night.
Gaston turned his head slightly and immediately locked eyes with Adam. The warm smile that had been directed at his friends dropped immediately, a coldness coming into his gaze as he looked at Adam.
"He knows," Adam said stiffly.
Belle looked up at him with wide eyes. "Can you sense it in him?"
Adam nodded. "Yes. And I know he must sense it in me."
Belle swallowed. She had wondered if there might be some way for werewolves, even in their human form, to recognize each other. She thought she ought to start taking notes, finding out what was true and what was simply folklore about the creatures.
A tense moment passed between the two men, even though they were standing several yards apart. Just as soon as it had happened it was over, Gaston tearing his gaze away from Adam and continuing onward with his hunters.
"I believe we fought last night. I don't remember it, but I can feel it," Adam frowned.
"Did you win?" Belle asked.
Adam's face twisted. "He wouldn't be alive if I had."
"Oh. So it was a draw."
"It seems so."
They continued onward, glad to have avoided an actual conversation with Gaston. Belle moved closer to Adam and they linked arms.
Belle had always felt a sense of safety with Adam. When they were children he was one of the few other students that hadn't teased her for how much she liked to read or how she preferred to spend time with horses instead of her peers. Adam leaving for so many years hadn't changed that, and neither had him being a werewolf.
"We should go to Cogsworth's," Adam suggested, leaning toward Belle.
Belle agreed, and they turned to head towards the bakery. Belle could imagine this almost being a normal morning for them once they were married. Strolling along the village, stopping in at the bakery for croissants. It would have been nice if not for the extenuating circumstances.
At the bakery Cogsworth dashed around the counter to pull Belle into a hug.
"Congratulations on your engagement," Cogsworth smiled.
"Thank you, Monsieur," Belle laughed.
"What are you two here for? It's on the house, whatever it is."
Adam grinned. "No need, Monsieur, that's too kind of you."
Cogsworth patted Adam on the shoulder. "You two were always my favourite students, I couldn't be happier for you both."
Cogsworth bustled behind the counter, preparing tea for the three of them. He put out a plate of pains au chocolat, insisting on them being free.
"Quite the howling from the woods last night, no?" Cogsworth asked casually. Adam nearly choked on one of the pastries.
"It was very loud, yes," Belle said, patting Adam on the back.
"It sounds like those creatures are multiplying," Cogsworth remarked, setting down the teapot and cups and beginning to pour their drinks. "It scared the devil out of the dogs."
"It did?" asked Adam.
"I suppose neither of you would have heard the dogs from either of your homes. My shop is right next to Madame Fraise's, the florist, you know? She has this old little pooch, he's so lazy he barely looks up when people pass him by. But last night he was practically howling back. Monsieur LeFou told me that his dogs hid underneath his bed and refused to surface until the morning, and those two are rather large and intimidating. It made for a very restless sleep, and my poor old cat hated it."
"I would have assumed the dogs in this area would be used to howling by now," Belle mused.
Cogsworth shrugged. "They used to be. This has only been happening for a matter of weeks."
"Since September eighteenth?" Adam asked.
Cogsworth tilted his head in confusion. "That's very specific."
Adam shrugged.
"Was that the last full moon?" Cogsworth asked, nearly amused but a little concerned.
"Perhaps the moon has some sort of effect on the wolves in the forest," Belle suggested, scrambling for some sort of conversation that didn't end in them telling Cogsworth that Adam was a werewolf. "That could be where some of these folklore tales come from."
Adam nodded fervently. "And when the wolves are upset it could upset the dogs."
"I suppose that's a more sensible theory than werewolves," Cogsworth chortled.
Belle and Adam shared a look across their tea.
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Lumiere set two large and old looking books on an empty table in the library.
"I learned a bit about my family history today," Lumiere said, gesturing to the books. "Apparently, my great great grandfather was a beast hunter."
"He- what?" Belle asked, squinting at him from across the table.
Lumiere nodded. He seemed torn between taking this seriously and making a joke of it. "I have no idea how much of this is true, or accurate. His old journals speak of creatures beyond werewolves, such as vampires and mermaids and banshees."
"Vampires," Adam said weakly, sinking further into his chair.
"I hate to say this, but if werewolves are real it does stand within reason that there may be other such creatures in the world," Belle said, rubbing Adam's shoulder in comfort.
"Well, let's just focus on werewolves for now. If I start thinking about the other things it gives me a headache," Lumiere said, opening the first of the books. They were leatherbound and full of handwritten notes and drawings.
"I don't suppose your beast hunter great great grandfather figured out a cure, did he?" Adam said, rubbing his temple.
"Ah, no. He had an awful lot of ideas on destroying werewolves, though," Lumiere frowned.
Belle hummed thoughtfully.
"Please don't make that sound," Adam moaned.
"Maybe there's something in there that could be of use. Obviously we don't want to hurt or kill anyone, but if there's a way to simply weaken the wolf instead of destroying it?"
"Oh," Adam said, sitting up straighter. "That's smart."
Lumiere rifled through the pages. "It says that silver burns a werewolf. It's the metal of the moon and too pure for a 'tarnished soul' to withstand."
"All of our cutlery is pure silver, so I don't believe that one's accurate," Adam said.
"Maybe it only hurts a werewolf when it's actually a werewolf, but the rest of the month you can handle it?" Lumiere suggested.
"We should have someone go out into the woods and throw a spoon at me after I turn into a monster," Adam responded. "Then we'll know for sure."
"Frankly, Monsieur, I don't appreciate your tone," Lumiere chastised, hands on his hips.
Adam huffed. "Apologies, Lumiere. You can imagine this isn't a fun topic for me. What else is there?"
Lumiere cleared his throat. "Magic."
Adam laughed dryly and said nothing.
"I don't think that will work," Belle said with a small smile.
Lumiere grinned. "I was hoping one of you would have a secret talent for sorcery I didn't know about. Alas. Limb removal?"
"I would prefer not to try that," Adam winced.
"I thought not. Aconitum variegatum, also known as wolfsbane. It either weakens a werewolf or outright kills it. My ancestor didn't specify."
"Fantastic," Adam deadpanned.
"Maybe if we dilute it to a very small amount we could test it?" Belle suggested.
"It grows in Vallée du Marcadau, according to this. Do we have a map?" Lumiere asked.
Adam pulled himself out of his seat and went over to a shelf full of rolled maps. He sifted through them until he found what he was looking for, and headed back to the table to unroll the map of France.
"It looks like that's southwest of Toulouse," Adam said, leaning over the map. "Near the Spanish border, all the way on the other side of the country."
Belle leaned over to take a look at Lumiere's book. There was a sketch of the plant on one page next to a description of it. It looked pretty and harmless with its purple hue and bell shaped petals.
"It may be worth it to try and track some down. I don't feel great about testing it on you, though, Monsieur," Lumiere said.
"Would you rather test it on Monsieur LeGume?" Adam asked.
"You want my honest answer?"
Adam grimaced. "If we dilute it to a very, very small amount... I may not like the man, but I don't want him dead."
"Agreed," Lumiere nodded. "Any thoughts, Belle?"
She swallowed. "It's dangerous, no matter what we do. And the skills it would take to transform wolfsbane into a way to temper the werewolf or to even cure it are beyond any of us. But we have to at least try."
"Excellent, we have at least some semblance of a plan. Step one: acquire wolfsbane. We'll figure out step two later on," Lumiere said.
"And..." Belle said slowly, looking at Adam despite speaking to Lumiere. "I think we should tell Plumette. She is my best friend and your wife, she deserves to know what we know. Especially about Gaston." Adam gave her a nod.
Lumiere ran a hand nervously through his hair. "I suppose I have to be the one to have that conversation, yes?"
"I could help," Belle offered.
"I would appreciate that, mademoiselle," Lumiere smiled gratefully. "She may think I'm pulling a strange joke if it's me alone. Now if you'll excuse me, I must return to work before Madame Potts comes and chastises me. I'll leave these books here." And with a nod, he turned to leave.
Belle moved around the table to Adam, grabbing a hold of his hand and pulling him closer to her.
"It's going to be alright," she said, reaching her other hand upward to run her thumb across his creased brow. "Somehow. We will find a way to fix this."
He leaned inward and kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you. I'm not sure I could do this without you, honestly."
"And you won't have to," she smiled up at him.
Adam returned her smile, but the worry never left his eyes.