The scene taking place in my room felt rather familiar, as I paced around, still not dressed in my suit, months later.

"I can't do this!" I complained to Lumière and Cogsworth. "What if Belle changed her mind?" They took my arms and stopped me, though I tried to break free.

"Master, we've gone over this before," Lumière reminded me. "This time you are not confessing anything that is not already known. You are merely getting married!" Merely getting married. There was no "merely" about it. I snorted.

Cogsworth scoffed. "Says the man who has had countless lovers and three fiancées."

Lumière countered, "I married Babette, did I not?"

"After ten years!"

"Well, it's not like I had a choice! We never broke the engagement, did we?"

I broke free of their grasp and continued my pacing. "Your arguing isn't helping matters!" I grumbled. The two stopped bickering and grabbed me again. This time I stopped, looking at my friends pleadingly.

"Sire," Cogsworth said, "you are understandably nervous. Try to relax, though. You're wearing a hole in the floor." Lumière and I glared at the pompous Englishman. He shrugged.

Lumière let go of me and handed me the suit. "The service will not be long, and you and the lady can leave the reception at any time, should you still feel nervous. Trust us!" he added, seeing my uncertainty. I looked between the two and sighed.

"Fine. Go for a few minutes," I ordered, tense. Lumière and Cogsworth left, continuing their argument in the hall.

I changed into the suit, still nervous and tense. Both of my friends complimented the suit and told me to relax. I tried, failed, and went back to pacing. I was tempted to look in the mirror, the one thing that had remained enchanted, but Cogsworth had threatened to break it if I looked in it once more today.

Finally, Mrs. Potts came in. "She's ready for you, Master Vincent. And by the looks of things, just as nervous," she added, glancing about at the rug and bedcovers, both a wrinkled, tangled mess. I nodded and shooed Lumière and Cogsworth away before I left the West Wing myself and headed for Belle's room.

I paused before I knocked on her door, nervously hoping she hadn't decided to cancel. Shaking my head, I took a deep breath and knocked. "Come in!" Belle called.

Belle sat alone in her room, her dress flowing around her. "Oh, Vincent! I was so worried you had changed your mind!" she cried in relief. I smiled and offered her my hand.

"I thought the same thing about you," I whispered. Belle laughed and took my hand. "Ready?" I asked.

Belle nodded and we left for the castle's chapel.

The service was unbearable. Whoever had hired the priest had chosen an old, slow one who dragged the ceremony on and on. My suit wasn't the most comfortable, and I could see Belle glistening from the lace and miles of extra cloth she wore in the July heat. Her father, sitting in the audience, had dozed off.

Finally, the priest reached the end and I kissed Belle as her husband for the first time. We quickly departed to change into slightly cooler clothing before the reception amongst wild applause. Whether the applause was for our marriage, the everlasting ceremony ending, or both, I couldn't tell.

During the early parts of the ceremony, Belle's things had been moved to my, now our, room. Once we were behind closed doors, I scooped Belle into my arms, holding her tight.

"I love you, Belle," I murmured into her ear. Belle pulled away slightly to kiss my cheek.

"Vincent, this will have to wait until after the reception," she whispered. "And if you really love me, you'll help me get out of this cloth oven Madame called a wedding gown." Laughing, I let her go and assisted her in undressing. Our white wedding attire would be pressed and saved for our children later. Belle was adamant that no daughter or daughter-in-law of hers would wear that hot, heavy gown, though.

I met Belle at the head of the stairs in my blue suit like I had so many weeks ago. She glided over to me, her gold dress accented with pale pink roses sewn on. She kissed my cheek before taking my arm and being led down into the ballroom.

"Do me a favor," she whispered before we reached the doors.

"What's that, my love?"

"Don't hire that priest for our children's christenings or weddings." I laughed and promised I wouldn't.

We entered the ballroom to wild cheers and clapping as though we were actors completing a performance. I bowed, and Belle curtsied, before I swept her in my arms and began dancing across the floor to the same song we had danced to that night I let her go. The people around us disappeared until we were the only two on Earth, she, my Beauty and I, her Beast.

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