Just be yourself, there are other ways to show strength than your father’s kind. Ben’s mother’s words rang in Ben’s ears as he sat down to meet with Grumpy, who had been elected to represent the dwarfs and sidekicks in their petitions.
Great. Wonderful. Just perfect. A one-on-one with Grumpy.
Ben shook his head. He suspected anyone else would have been a better person to negotiate with than the crabby old dwarf.
Last time they’d met, the infamous dwarf had been insulted by a sugar cookie.
These talks were doomed.
Ben wished that people would stop telling him to be himself. It sounded like such simple advice—and maybe it would have been, if he had had any idea who himself was.
But who was he?
Prince Ben, son of King Beast, heir to the throne of the great kingdom of Auradon?
He was certainly nothing like his father, who knew how to enforce his rule without forcing it on his subjects. Ben cringed to recall how he had stood on the table and yelled.
That wasn’t who he was.
He was Prince Ben, son of King Beast and Queen Belle, heir to the throne of the great kingdom of Auradon.
And if, like his father, he was meant to inherit the throne—then it would be on his own terms, as his mother’s son and not just as his father’s heir.
Because, like his mother, Ben was quiet and gentle and loved nothing better than to disappear into a great, thick book. His childhood hadn’t been about hunting or sword-fighting or besting someone else on the field.
It had been spent in a library.
He shared his mother’s love of reading, and he always had. Ben’s fondest memories were of sitting next to Queen Belle at the hearth of her magnificent library’s enormous fireplace, reading by her side. He’d be digging into a pile of books dragged from the lower shelves, while hers were always taken from the very highest. It was paradise.
Once, when his father had discovered they had spent the entire day hiding in the library and scolded them for skipping out on a royal luncheon banquet “for the sake of a story,” his mother had mounted a passionate defense.
“But these aren’t just stories,” she’d said. “They’re whole kingdoms. They’re worlds. They’re perspectives and opinions you can’t offer, from lives you haven’t lived. They’re more valuable than any gold coin, and more important than any state luncheon. I should hope you, as king, would know that!”
King Beast’s eyes had twinkled, and he had lifted Queen Belle into his powerful arms with one easy motion. “And, as you’re my queen, I should hope you would know how much I love you for that!” Then he’d gathered up his young son, and the three of them had made a late lunch of cream cakes in the garden.
Of course.
Ben smiled. He hadn’t thought about that day in a long time.
He found himself thinking of it still as Lumiere ushered the older dwarf into the conference room.
Grumpy nodded to him and took a seat across from the prince, his short legs swinging like a child’s. “What’s this all about, young man?” He coughed. “I’m not in the mood for any of your tantrums.” He eyed the table uneasily, as if the boy was about to leap upon it, even now. The plate of sugar cookies and the goblet of cider in front of him, he left untouched.
“Thank you for meeting me today,” said Ben. “I thought this might be easier, if it was just the two of us talking. Since everything got a bit—loud—before.”
“Hem,” said Grumpy. “We’ll see about that. You don’t plan to hop on the table again or shout like an animal, do you?”
Ben flushed. “I apologize for my behavior the other day. I was…a fool.”
“You—What?” Grumpy was caught off guard.
Ben shrugged. “I admit it. I didn’t know what I was doing, and I made a mess of everything. And I certainly don’t blame you for not wanting to take me seriously now.”
Grumpy looked at him grumpily, if a little pleasantly surprised. “Go on.”
Ben smiled. It was a start, and he’d take it.
“You see, I called you in because I read all one thousand and one pages of your complaint.”
“Really? All one thousand?” asked Grumpy, sounding impressed in spite of himself.
“And one.” Ben smiled again. He was a fast reader, and a concerned listener, and if he was truly going to be himself, he was going to need to use both talents in his favor to settle this complaint once and for all.
“From what I could gather, it appears what you and your colleagues are demanding is to be heard, and to have a voice in your future. Something more than just a seat at the Council.”
“It’s not that much to ask is it?” asked Grumpy keenly.
“No, it’s not,” Ben acknowledged. “And I think we can come to a simple agreement.”
“What do you propose?”
Ben shuffled the papers. He thought about it, and about how to say it. How had his mother put it? Perspectives and opinions I can’t offer, from lives I haven’t lived.
Ben smiled. “I propose listening to the people who know best.”
Grumpy raised an eyebrow.
Ben consulted his notes. “Let’s start with the mermaids. They should charge a silver coin for every undersea tour. And I’ll talk to Ariel about giving Flounder’s collecting for Ariel a break.”
Grumpy nodded. “Sounds reasonable. Okay.”
“I’ve also set up a college fund for the Dalmatians—all one hundred and one of them will be eligible for financial aid through the Puppy Grant.” Ben pushed a black-and-white-spotted folder that contained all the pertinent forms across the table.
Grumpy accepted it. “Pongo will appreciate that,” said Grumpy. “But what about us miners?”
“Half of everything you mine must still remain the property of the kingdom,” said Ben. He knew his father would settle for no less.
“Half? What about the rest of the diamonds? Where does that go?” asked Grumpy, sounding alarmed.
“The other half will go to a 401D Fund. A retirement fund for dwarfs, to take care of your families and your children. Tell Bashful not to worry.”
“Sounds fair enough.” Grumpy nodded, in spite of himself. “What about the restriction of magic? Just between you and me, those three fairies make a lot of noise.”
“The three good fairies will have to take their complaint up with the Fairy Godmother. I can’t do anything about it myself, I’m afraid. But I’ll get them a meeting with her. That much I can do.”
“And Genie’s request for unlimited travel within the kingdom?” Grumpy frowned. At this point, he looked like he was struggling to find things to still be grumpy about.
“Approved, so long as he clears his itinerary with the palace beforehand.” That was a difficult concession to make, as his father did not want the “blue-skinned-maniac popping up everywhere without notice,” but he had been able to convince King Beast that as long as the subjects were warned about Genie’s arrival, all would be well.
Grumpy folded his arms. “What about the woodland creatures? They’re working their paws and hooves to the bone.”
“I’ve had a team install dishwashers, washer-dryers, and vacuum cleaners in every household. It’s time we realized we’re living in the twenty-first century, don’t you think? Forest woodlands included?”
“Meh,” said Grumpy. “I don’t care much for modernity, but I think our furry friends will appreciate it. It’s hard to do dishes by hand, without, you know, hands.”
Ben tried not to laugh.
“As for Mary and the mice, from now on, they will be well compensated with the finest cheese in the kingdom, from the king’s own larders.” Ben let the last paper drop.
“Fair enough.” Grumpy nodded.
“So we have a deal?”
Grumpy put out his hand. “Deal.”
Ben shook it. He was more relieved than he let on. (At least, he hoped he wasn’t letting it on. At this point he was sweating so much, he couldn’t be entirely certain.)
“You know what, young man?” huffed Grumpy with a frown.
Ben steeled himself for a grouchy comment, but none came.
“You’re going to make a good king,” the dwarf said with a smile. “Give your father my best, and send your mother my love.”
“I will,” said Ben, pleased by how well the meeting had turned out. He pushed his own chair back from the ancient table. His work was done, at least for today. But if this is what being king is all about, then maybe it isn’t as hard as I thought.
The dwarf picked up his stocking cap and hopped down from his seat, turning toward the council-room door.
Then he paused.
“You know, son, sometimes you remind me of her.” Queen Belle was much beloved in the kingdom.
Ben smiled. “You know, I really hope I do.”
Grumpy shrugged, pushing open the door. “Not nearly so pretty, though. I’ll tell you that much. And your mother, she would have made sure we had a cream cake or two. And at least a few currants in the cookies.”
Ben laughed as the door slammed shut.