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Chapter Text

“The first child is almost the most difficult, Your Majesty. I’m afraid we only have to be patient.”

The look on the prince’s face was enough to send the maid back to the bedchambers at a brisk run. For hours now he had inquired after the status of his laboring wife, only to bet met with admonishments and varying sympathetic looks. There had not been such tension in the castle since the early stages of the curse, and he blamed the obvious shortcomings of the midwifery staff. A princess was to receive the best care, was she not? Why then had the babe not been born after these twelve long hours?

Belle’s pains intensified sometime in the early hours of the morning, and she had sent for the midwife while he still slept. You haven’t been sleeping well, Adam, she had explained upon his chastisement. I did not want to frighten you. Her selflessness angered him, reminded him how much he did not deserve her or the child. She looked frightened when the midwife shooed him away. Now all the prince could think of were the worried eyes that had met his before the door slammed in his face.

Suppose the pain was unbearable. Suppose Belle died hating him, hating what he’d done to her. Suppose the child did not survive.

He paced, avoiding the glances of the staff. Mrs. Potts offered endless cups of tea that no one drank. Out of earshot, Lumière cracked jokes about the potential hairiness of the babe, which were met with nervous laughter.

The prince saw Mrs. Potts approach hesitantly, this time without that infernal teapot.

“What is your guess, Your Majesty? Boy or girl?”

He gave her an incredulous look before resuming his glare. “I have not thought much about it. How is Belle? And do not ask me to be patient,” he added, hating her sympathetic expression.

“She is fine, Master. She is a strong, country-bred girl, after all.” She began to curtsy, but hesitated. “Have you really no preference for the sex of the child? It is all the kitchen staff can talk about; I don’t know how anything gets done –”

“You asked for my guess, not my preference. And I would prefer a healthy child.” He straightened and resumed his pacing, trying not to think about the raucous betting pool that was probably taking place in the kitchens. He did not dare think about the gender and appearance of the child when its health was so important to Belle and himself. Belle had not gained much weight during the pregnancy; she seemed too small, too fragile to possibly nurture a growing babe. Her initial sickness and nausea did nothing to improve her appetite. Adam fussed, hovered. She should eat, she should rest. Was she warm enough? Was the castle too drafty? He knew he had tested Belle’s patience, but she was so understanding, so perfect. She snapped once, when he had tried to convince her to take a second helping of cake. I will eat when I want to eat, Adam. This is my baby and I know what is best for us.

“Your Majesty?”

The prince whirled around to see the midwife descending the staircase. Time stopped, yet somehow the room spun, and his legs took him past the surprised woman and across the castle to the bedchamber doors, still shut in a way that taunted the prince. He jumped as they opened abruptly, revealing a small woman carrying a bowl of –

“You may go in, Your Majesty,” she said with a smile that belied the bloody contents of the bowl she held. Noticing where he stared, she hastily turned and took the bowl down the hall.

The prince felt slightly queasy as he once again faced the closed doors, doors that separated him from Belle one too many times. He knocked – gently, gently – just as he had once been taught. His breath caught even then. Go away.

“Come in.”

It was a feminine voice, tired and strained. Elated.

Breathing deeply, Adam pushed against the door and timidly surveyed the contents of the bedchambers. She was there, small and flushed against the white bedsheets. In her arms, a bundle.

She smiled, and he was undone.

“Are – ” His words caught in his throat, and he swallowed heavily. “Are you well?”

“Yes. We both are.” She smiled down at the bundle with such love that the prince was momentarily jealous, stunned. He approached cautiously, afraid that any movement would startle the baby. The baby.

Belle was radiant, even in her obvious state of exhaustion. Now at the bedside, Prince Adam leaned over to kiss her cheek, reveling in the flush that proved she was alive. She shifted slightly to reveal the contents of the bundle, looking up at her husband through her eyelashes.

“Say hello to your son.”

The new prince scrunched up his face, still red from the strain of being born. An arm escaped the swaddle, revealing impossibly small fingers that grasped for anything, anyone, and Adam held out a finger of his own, his breath catching at the contact.

“He’s strong,” he whispered, unaware of his own tears until Belle reached up to wipe one away.

“He’s going to look just like you,” Belle said proudly. “And he’ll be just as kind.” She shifted again, loosening her hold on the babe. “Would you like to –?”

The prince felt himself lean away, suddenly terrified. “Please, my love, I couldn’t – I couldn’t forgive myself if –”

“You won’t hurt him, Adam,” Belle said softly, her brown eyes earnest. “You aren’t a beast.”

Feeling rather shaky, he allowed Belle to transfer the babe into his arms, panicking at how light his son felt in his arms. The baby fidgeted slightly, and Adam shot a fearful glance at his wife.

“Is he afraid? What’s wrong?”

“He’s only adjusting. He’ll settle down in a moment, I expect. Try talking to him, he might recognize your voice.”

“Really?”

The prince looked down at the infant. He felt too much. It was all too much. But he took his wife’s advice.

“Um…hello there. I’m your – your father. I’ve been waiting to meet you.” He smiled, stroking his son’s soft cheek with a finger. “You’re a prince, you know.”

He looked over at Belle, who was clearly fighting sleep despite the satisfied smile on her face.

“You should rest, my love. I am sure there are plenty of people waiting to meet our son.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of people in the kitchen waiting to profit from his gender,” Belle laughed lightly.

“You knew about that?”

“Of course I did, you silly man.”

With one more kiss to her cheek, Adam rose to his feet and prepared himself to expose his son to the overwhelming love and welcome waiting just outside the door. He could only hope that Mrs. Potts’ blubbering would not keep Belle from her rest.

“Wait, what shall I say his name is?” He looked to Belle, but she was already asleep. He smiled. They had time. They had all the time in the world.

Chapter Text

Belle shifted uncomfortably as the carriage rattled beneath her. Outside she heard the driver spew apologies, which she quickly assuaged with a few words. She knew he was being as careful as possible; besides, it was hard to feel comfortable in her stage of pregnancy.

As they approached the castle gates, Belle felt the child kick within her.

“Yes, we’re almost home,” she reassured the child, rubbing soothing circles on her belly. “Did you enjoy our little trip?”

She had spent the better part of the week travelling to the surrounding villages and towns, bringing books and making known the intentions of the palace to fund schools and literacy programs. The villagers had been rather taken with the princess, and were touched that she would come speak to them even in her condition. Belle loved meeting the bright-eyed children and feeling their enthusiasm, but she could not help but feel grateful to be going home to her husband and the comforts of a familiar bed.

As they pulled up to the castle, Belle saw her husband descend the steps to meet the carriage, and a surge of warmth filled her chest at the sight of his crooked smile. Ignoring all decorum, he hurried forward to open the carriage door himself.

“My love,” he breathed, lifting her from the carriage with exaggerated gentleness. Belle leaned up to press her lips to his, and when they parted, she noticed his excitement was replaced with worry.

“How are you feeling?” His hands moved from her forehead, her back, her belly.

“I’m fine, if a bit sore – Oh, thank you, Pierre!” she called as the carriage began to pull away. The driver tipped his hat, blushing deeply.

“Let’s get you inside at once,” said Adam, taking Belle’s waist as they ascended the front steps. “I asked the cooks to make you a bit of everything. But if you should want anything in particular, you shall have it. A Spanish diplomat brought the finest chocolate-covered strawberries, and they are all for you, of course.”

“I am afraid that my weariness outweighs my appetite,” Belle admitted.

Adam looked almost horrified. “Of course you must rest, what am I thinking? I will have a room prepared for you at once.”

Belle raised an eyebrow. “I believe our chambers will suffice, my dear.”

They were welcomed by the enthusiastic staff, and it was with shame that Belle appreciated the prince’s insistence that she rest immediately. He escorted her the rest of the way to their chambers, his fingers brushing her body lightly as he helped her into bed.

“I’m not sure how it is possible, but you seem to have gotten even more beautiful in your absence,” mused the prince, bending over to kiss his wife’s cheek.

“My breasts are more swollen, could that be a factor?” Belle laughed at her husband’s immediate blush.

“You think me so crude?”

“I am not with child through coincidence, you know.”

A deep chuckle. “I should hope not.”

Belle sighed contentedly and reached out to take his hand, placing it where their child kicked. “We missed you.”

Adam smiled in that way that seemed to involve his entire body. “I missed you as well. You know I do not like to be parted from you. Both of you.” He knelt down now, taking her hand in his. His voice was earnest. “You also know I would never keep you in the castle, but I would also request that you do not travel so far away until the babe is born.”

“I imagine I will not, even if I want to,” said Belle, still feeling the ache from the carriage. “I feel badly about not seeing the villagers, however.”

“You have done so much for them,” Adam reminded her. “I would have liked to go with you, had the ambassadors not been here.” He frowned. “Sir Lionel talked enough about you that you were never far from my mind, however.”

“Still enamored, is he?” Belle laughed, sensing her husband’s jealousy. “I do believe large quantities of wine were affecting his actions when I met him.”

“He’s lucky I did not cut his hands off,” the prince murmured, shaking his head at the memories.

“You forget I know how to deal with men who won’t take no for an answer.”

“He did leave with a hand impression on his face, didn’t he?”

“It’s a shame, too. He is rather handsome.”

“For an old fogey, I suppose. Perhaps you’d rather be Lady Lionel?”

“Only if he has a bigger library.”

Belle squealed as Adam nuzzled her neck, trying in vain to push him away. Finally relenting, he laughed and planted a kiss on her neck before standing up and pulling the covers up around her.

“You really should rest, my dear. We can talk about your travels more when you wake.”

Belle watched him extinguish the candle at her bedside and turn away. As he reached the door, she called to him.

“Would you be so kind as to leave those strawberries by the door for me?”

Adam grinned. “They’re all for you, my dear.”

Chapter Text

Belle knew that Adam was the worrier in their relationship. Many was the time she had teased him about fretting over the smallest things. These past few days, however, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of panic herself.

“It could be nothing, Mistress,” assured the doctor, placing his instruments back into his cloth bag. “You are late in your confinement and there is less room for the child to move around. I would suggest placing some ice directly on your abdomen. That might wake up your newest prince or princess.”

Belle could only nod in response to the doctor, forgetting to thank him as he left. It was late in her pregnancy, and she had not felt her child move in the past two days. She tried to reach a logical conclusion about the lack of movement, but could not see past the anxiety weighing down on her. It simply did not make sense; Arthur had wriggled nonstop for months until his birth. As she tentatively made her way down to the kitchens, Belle felt regret at all the times she had wished Arthur to stop kicking and let her sleep.

There was no one in the kitchens, as the weather was fine and everyone was enjoying the sunshine. Belle thought wistfully of her husband and son playing outside with the horses; claiming to need a nap, she had left them to go meet up with the doctor in her state of anxiety. Now she rifled through the icebox, hissing at the contact of the cold against her bare hands. She couldn’t bring herself to lift her skirts to expose her stomach so she first tried pressing the ice against the fabric. Just as she felt the first tingle of cold seeping through to her skin, she heard a concerned voice.

“My love?”

She turned to see Adam entering the kitchen, their rambunctious son following close behind.

“Mama!”

Arthur was only just stopped from barreling into Belle by his father’s last-minute grasp on his shirt. “Gentle, Arthur,” Adam admonished, looking at his wife with amusement. Already past the idea of greeting his mother, Arthur ran further into the kitchen with a wild declaration of his insufferable hunger.

“He got hungry,” Adam explained pointlessly. He glanced down at the melting ice in his wife’s hand and raised an eyebrow. “Is everything alright?”

“I just got…hot.”

“Mama?” Arthur was back, mouth full of baguette. He swallowed with the impatience only a five-year-old could muster. He put his two hands on her belly and pressed an inquisitive ear to it. “When is the baby coming out to play? I’m bored!”

Her impending sense of doom brought tears to Belle’s eyes, but under the hands of the young prince, a soft nudge came from within her, and her tears instantly became those of happiness. She cried easily these days, but Belle could see her apparent overreaction was concerning her husband as she gathered Arthur into her arms.

“I was just really, really hot,” she bubbled, and she almost laughed at her husband’s confused smile. “I imagine you’ll meet your brother or sister very soon,” she told her son, running a hand through his tangled blond hair. His exasperated look reminded Belle so much of her husband that her tears found renewal, and Adam bent to take her elbow.

“Perhaps you’d like some more fresh air, my love?”

“That would be very nice.” Adam pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his wife’s face, his other hand ghosting over her swollen belly in a loving caress. “That would be very nice indeed.”

Chapter Text

It was a rather chilly day, and Adam could not help but be surprised when his wife suggested they go for a turn around the gardens with the claim that she was “rather hot.” Never one to turn down his wife, however, Adam found himself out among the roses and the chill of the wind.

He watched as Belle broke away to speak to the gardener, who was clearly trying not to show confusion over the hand fan that the princess was currently using to cool herself. Belle had her quirks, to be sure, but this was strange even for her. As Belle rejoined him, he noticed her usually flushed cheeks had turned pale, and he took her arm.

“Are you all right?” he murmured, placing the back of his hand to her forehead. She nodded, swallowing thickly.

“I’m fine. Just feeling a bit strange, that’s all.”

“Did you skip breakfast again today?” Adam’s brow furrowed as he pushed some hair from her face. For the last few days she had risen later than usual, politely rejecting any prospect of breakfast from the bemused staff. “Perhaps you should eat.”

Somehow Belle paled even further. “I’m fine, Adam. Perhaps we should go back inside.”

Adam straightened as he once again took his wife’s arm. “You should get some rest, and I will call for the doctor. That is non-negotiable,” he added firmly, seeing Belle open her mouth in protest. “You clearly are not well, and I will not have you suffer for propriety’s sake.”

“Propriety? I don’t care about that, Adam, I am not ill –”

“What would you call this, then?” he retaliated, gesturing to her pale complexion and her flittering hand fan. Something inside him as snapping. He knew he was overreacting, but he couldn’t lose her, he couldn’t –

“I’m pregnant, Adam.”

Behind them a breeze ran through the rose bushes, scattering petals at their feet, and Adam gaped, transfixed by the tears welling up in his wife’s brown eyes. Belle wasn’t feeling well because she was having his child, and here he was, yelling at her in the cold garden like some kind of animal.

“Belle –”

“I was going to tell you, but I was afraid,” she whispered, and he could feel his heart tighten. He took an involuntary step back, horrified at the tears now rolling down Belle’s cheeks.

“Afraid of…me?”

“No!” Belle reached for him, but seemingly changed her mind at the last moment and folded her arms tightly against her chest. “I didn’t know for sure, and I didn’t want something to go wrong and have you get upset.”

Not for the first time, Belle’s selflessness both amazed and repulsed the prince. It was impossible for him to understand what she was going through, yet she worried about him, first and foremost. He had always known he didn’t deserve her. Yet there she was before him, so beautiful and sad, miraculously carrying life somewhere within her. His eyes flitted down to her still-flat abdomen; noticing where he looked, Belle reached out to take his hand and placed it gently over their growing child. Their eyes met, Belle looking at him expectantly. Adam could not register what was happening. He opened and closed his mouth several times, frustrated at his inability to express his emotions even now. Finally:

“Thank you.”

Belle let out a small laugh. “Thank you for what?”

“For telling me. For enduring me.”

“There’s nothing to endure, sweet husband.”

“And I’m sorry that you were afraid.” He splayed his fingers over her stomach. “I would never do anything to hurt our child, Belle – ”

“Adam.” The intensity in Belle’s voice broke him from his reverie. “You know I would never even consider that to be a possibility, so stop it. You will be a great father.”

Sudden visions of his own father made Adam tense. What could he understand about paternal affection? Your mother is gone, Adam. Princes do not cry. “But my father –”

“Was not you, Adam, and you are not him. Please do not insult my intelligence but suggesting I do not know my own husband.”

“At least with you as a mother, our child may stand a chance.” Adam allowed himself to smile, and leaned forward to kiss his wife. His bliss was short-lived, however, as he once again took in Belle’s pale face.

“You still must see a doctor. Does anyone else know?”

Belle sighed. “I suppose it is for the best. And I presume most of the female staff knows, considering the looks they gave me when I felt queasy in the kitchens last week.”

Adam felt guilty that they were more observant than he. He shook the thought from his head, and took Belle’s waist to lead her back to the castle. He already knew that Belle would receive the best care possible if he had any say in the matter.

The doctor was sent for by a maid with a knowing smile, and after an hour or so, Adam watched tentatively as a bashful Belle followed the doctor into his makeshift examination room and shut the door behind her.

“Master?” Adam turned to see Mrs. Potts hurrying towards him soon after, her face flushed. “I saw the doctor come in, is everything alright?”

Adam hesitated. “Belle is only having an examination. It should be fine.”

Mrs. Potts immediately lit up, much to his surprise. “Is it true, then? Are we to expect a new prince or princess?”

Amazed by the intuitive nature of women, Adam could only give a stern look. “I ask you not to say anything until the doctor’s confirmation. Belle is worried enough as it is.”

“Of course, Master,” Mrs. Potts replied, not fully able to hide the delight that still graced her features. “Forgive my impertinence, Master. I won’t tell a soul. If I may say so, your mother would be very excited.”

At the mention of his mother, a familiar pang of sadness went through him. He knew Mrs. Potts was right, however, and nodded curtly. “I believe she would be, yes.”

“Tell Mistress Belle that if she should feel peckish, we have plenty waiting for her in the kitchens,” Mrs. Potts said fondly. “Heaven knows how much I ate when I was expecting. Not at the beginning, though, didn’t have much of an appetite then, much like Mistress Belle.” She shook her head. “Do make sure she eats as much as she’s able. She’ll need her strength, especially if the child is anything like you were! Always kicking your dear mother…Oh, how it made her laugh.” Her eyes were wet now, and she looked at Adam like she had forgotten he was still standing there. “Pardon me, Master. I should leave you be.” And she carried back down the hall, blowing her nose loudly into her handkerchief.

Hearing about his mother always saddened him, but before he had much chance to collect himself, the door opened and the doctor exited into the hallway.

“Congratulations, Your Highness,” he said with a slight bow. “You should be expecting your child in mid-summer.” Adam felt himself sag slightly with relief. “Your wife appears quite healthy. Make sure she gets plenty of rest, and let me know whenever you need my services.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” said Adam, wanting nothing more than to go to his wife. The doctor bowed again and was led away by the same maid who summoned him. Adam peeked into the room to see Belle adjusting her skirts, and she smiled up at him.

“Aside from a few mortifying questions, I think that went rather well,” she said, smiling as Adam leaned down to kiss her.

“Mortifying, hmm?”

“How would you like to answer questions about the frequency of our lovemaking?” Adam felt his neck go red, and Belle laughed lightly at his grumbles of can’t see how it’s his business…

“He is a doctor, remember?”

Adam rolled his eyes, but his embarrassment couldn’t last long as he looked down at his beaming wife.

“Did I mention how happy I am?” he said lowly, rubbing a thumb over her cheek. “Because I am. Happy, that is.”

“Me too.”

“Mid-summer, is it? I don’t think I can wait that long.”

“I don’t really think we have a choice, dear husband.” Belle leaned up to kiss him once more. “When shall we make the announcement? Tonight at dinner?”

“Only if you promise to get some rest between now and then.”

“Very well, but you must join me,” Belle insisted, taking his hands in hers. “And the window must be open; it’s still rather hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Whatever you say, my dear.”