A/N: It's good to be back. :-) :takes in a breath of that wonderful ff . net air: Hoping to see some veterans come back for this one, but just a quick word for newbies. This story is actually the fourth installment (and the last) in my "Romance" series. This story CAN be read on its own, but if you would like to see the others, please check out the C2 community "Tale as Old as Time" or my bio. Order is as follows: Les Fleurettes (#1), Questionable Romance (#2), and Prelude (#3). (end of plug, LOL)
My thanks as always to the B&B Writers Workshop group on MSN :-), and always, ALWAYS my highest gratitude to my loverly beta, TrudiRose.
Anyhoo, here it is! The next story ready to go; enjoy!
Delicate Condition
By Faith Kelter
Beauty and the Beast characters © Walt Disney Company
Original characters © Faith Kelter
PrologueAn entire year, down to the day, and Babette was still convinced that she would never adjust to her human body after so many years under the enchantment. Dusting a few expensive knick-knacks in the hall seemed much easier when all she had to do was hold them in her former feathery hands. Merely gliding across the floor swept it clean. Work had actually been a bit more fun then, she mused, taking a moment to lean against the wall and twirl her duster playfully.
"It is just that…I like you better this way."
Babette covered her mouth to keep from giggling too loudly; the last thing she needed was Cogsworth overhearing and scolding her first thing in the morning. At first she had teased Lumière for his careless words that fateful night, loving to watch him writhe before playing along. But he could not have been more right.
When all was calm again amongst the staff following the mob attack, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, and Lumière had raced to the West Wing to see what had become of their master and Belle, who had returned in the nick of time.
Babette fearfully glanced around the room before continuing to wait anxiously for any sign of her lover. Belle had come back to them, and Babette had caught a glimpse of the girl's face as she ran to the forbidden West Wing. There was no doubt anymore in Babette's mind; Belle was clearly worried about the master in such a way that only a woman in love could be. Babette's heart swelled with excitement and anticipation. Finally, mon Dieu, after all these years! She would be able to hold her beloved Lumière again...
But a scream from behind turned everyone's attention away from the staircase, and Babette watched as the final transformation of the servants took its heavy toll. This was certainly not what she had in mind as an outcome, and she looked on, petrified. Whatever was left of faces, arms, and feet were quickly being consumed by non-living elements that made up the inanimate objects that they were becoming.
Taking a deep breath, despite the horror, Babette tried with great determination to reach anyone she could to comfort them, but it was a hopeless effort. Midway through her attempt, she cringed, feeling her already stiff wooden body grow even more rigid than ever before. The enchantress had rid the staff of most human sensations, but pain was not one of them, Babette thought angrily. Shrieking in agony, she felt her greatly objectified form twist and contort into a full-fledged feather duster. Her arms welded into one with her body, her hands meshing together with the mass of feathers where her feet had once been.
In an endeavor to ease her misery, she closed her eyes and pictured Lumière. Just as he had been in years past, he was surely at the master's side in times of fear instead of hers. The master needed him more than she did, she told herself, desperately trying to keep bitterness from her thoughts.
Very soon, it would all be over.
Babette did not even realize she had closed her eyes to reminisce until she opened them, admittedly taking a few moments to remind herself that it was only a memory by glancing at her hands and lightly touching her face. No feathers, no wood, only soft skin, she confirmed with a nod. Just as wonderful as the day it had ended…well almost.
To feel the exhilarating rush of magic pull them all back from the depths of despair was nothing short of a miracle. Babette had closed her eyes, anticipating the worst, but then opened them, feeling as though she had awaken from a frighteningly intense dream. For a brief pause, as she looked around the room finding humans in place of the objects they had once been, she swore that she was still in that dream. Perhaps this was what was known as 'life flashing before your eyes' previous to death or even a glimpse of heaven itself. But as the unbelievable reality sank in, she knew that they were free at last.
He had, of course, caught up to her quite easily, certainly not out of practice in the chase.
So many tiny things that Babette had taken for granted years ago suddenly felt intensely incredible and wonderfully familiar – her heart racing, breaths coming fast…Lumière's arms tightly enveloping her in his embrace. His passion had never once cooled during the enchantment, but nothing could compare to this, the first moments of humanity.
"I have no intention of releasing you," he whispered softly, his warm breath tickling her ear, causing her to giggle.
Babette pulled back only far enough to look at him, tears welling up in her eyes happily, despite the playful smirk she gave him. "Well, I have no intention of letting you release me," she replied, her voice choked with emotion.
When he reached to cup her face in his hands, drying her tearstained cheeks with his thumbs, Babette touched his wrists with her own newfound hands with an overjoyed sob. In response, Lumière grasped them firmly, bringing them to his lips to shower them with adoring kisses. Of all the things the pair had missed the most, it was the ability to caress and hold one another as only human lovers could. For the longest time, they stood reveling in the sense of touch that both had been deprived of in object form, exploring familiar curves and crevices that lie beneath the cover of clothes. Such accommodations led to an inevitable kiss that left Babette weak in the knees, her entire being tingling and craving more than he could give her in the open halls.
"Now," Lumière gasped, catching a breath. "Now do you understand why I like you better this way?" he asked, unable to resist a laugh.
Pressing herself as close to him as she could, Babette sniffed back what was left of her tears, smiling playfully and placing her finger to his lips. "Make better use of these instead of talking," she replied, teasing, "and we shall call it even."
Lumière, of course, did not object.
Leaning against the wall, Babette grinned before putting the memory to rest for the millionth time in the past year. Life was good, and from now on, it could only get better. Turning her attention to the small gold engagement ring on her finger, she remembered why.
Christmas Eve, the night the spell had been cast years ago, had started as a happy occasion. After too many long years, Lumière had finally proposed to her. The spell, of course, had put a damper on those plans, but now that it was over, they could at last begin a new future together.
Of course, that would mean deciding upon an exact date and time, which Lumière still had not given her, no matter how many times she asked. But tonight…oui, tonight, she would coax it out of him. The palace galas and celebrations brought out the best in him, from his impeccable work to his unmatched romantic nature. Once dinner had finished, he would find a bit of alone time to spend with her. When they met tonight, she was determined to finally get an answer.
ooo
Lumière checked the rug once he approached the end of the massive dining room table, sure that he had worn a hole in it from all the pacing he had done in the last hour. Thankfully, it was still perfectly intact, if a little trampled.
He glanced over the entire menu one final time, certain that he had the proper dishes to satisfy each of the dignitaries and royals attending tonight's celebration. At long last, he could bring it to the kitchen for preparation.
The spell's years of solitude had definitely had a harsh impact on him. Years ago, in the prime of his career, he could easily have each and every dinner planned down to the last dessert in mere minutes. He never second-guessed, never thought twice, and was always sure of success after one check. Not once did his plans fail him.
But then came the crashing halt once the enchantment was cast. The master did not eat much the first week, much to servants' dismay. Come the second week, the prince took his anger over his wild animal façade out on different creatures of the forest, as though that was how he was supposed to survive. When the servants found gnarled bones scattered around his room in the West Wing, it took every bit of their strength to force the boy back to human habits. It would not do any of them good if he gave into this madness completely. By the third week, they succeeded in bringing him back to the table, but all that he would touch were plain meats or stews, which of course, he slurped up like an animal. There was no reason left for Lumière to plan or serve any of the fancy, elaborate dishes that he prided himself on.
Not until Belle arrived did Lumière have the chance to work his talents again, although after the grand feast on her first night there, meals still were far too simple than what he was capable of. Only once the spell was broken did his work return to the way it used to be.
What he was not prepared for was so many gatherings and events at once. Being quite out of practice, they had tested his famous optimism to the extreme, and down to this very night, each one pushed him to his limits. Just when he thought it was all over, something else had come along.
Just as it did that very moment, for example. Having left the menu in Chef's capable hands, Lumière had no sooner sat down for a short break than Cogsworth had found him.
"What on earth do you think you are doing?" the stout head of household inquired.
Lumière merely kept his head lolled back with his eyes closed, undaunted. "It is called 'resting.' I know, the word is not even in your vocabulary, so I do not expect you to understand."
"I can see that, you ninny!" Cogsworth retaliated. "Have you finished tonight's menu?"
"Oui."
"Brought it to the kitchen?"
"Done."
"Has Chef started to cook yet?"
"Go ask him."
Cogsworth ran his hand over his face impatiently. "Lumière, for once in your life, could you just cooperate with me for one day?"
Lumière turned his head slightly to look at him. "I have done everything that I am supposed to," he said indignantly. "How is that not cooperating?"
"I can't be in two places at once. How hard would it be for you to simply make sure things are running smoothly in the kitchen, as it is part of your responsibility?"
Lumière sighed. No peace came to anyone unless Cogsworth was calm, and that itself was a rarity, intensified when a royal party was involved. Thus, there would be no peace for the weary today.
"Everything is fine, I assure you," he said. "We both know Chef takes great pride in his work. He can be just as diligent and punctual as you are, not accepting less than perfection. Knowing that, I will stake a week's pay on a guess that he and his staff are already cooking away splendidly. There is nothing to worry about."
Cogsworth frowned, but nodded with understanding, while Lumière simply grinned. That was the closest thing to a positive acknowledgement that Cogsworth could ever give until parties were over.
"Now that I have given you some reassurance, why not pull up a chair and join me?" Lumière offered. "It will do you a world of good."
"Absolutely not, there is still too much to be done," Cogsworth declined. "Not since the royal wedding have we had anything so grand to celebrate as the young master's arrival."
Lumière smiled. The young master, Alexandre Maurice Victoir, newborn son of their prince, Vincent, and princess, Belle; the only one making all this insanity worth every minute.
The announcement of an heir to the royal family was undoubtedly wonderful news, and brought a sense of celebration to the land. But as with most exciting events, this one was especially miraculous to everyone in the castle, reminding them all how strong love truly was. First it had conquered a man that they believed was hopeless to change for the better, showing him that inner beauty and goodness of the heart were what made a person admired and respected. Now, from that man and the woman he cherished, a brand new life had been created. Nothing on earth could possibly be any stronger than that.
Thus, for once, Lumière had to agree with his comrade. "Indeed, mon ami, he deserves only the best, and we shall see that he gets it."
"Very good then," Cogsworth replied. "Now enough lazing about; time to get back to work! We have already wasted too many precious minutes."
"Oui, mon capitan, right away!" Lumière exclaimed, mock saluting, just the way Cogsworth always hated it.
But nonetheless, with renewed enthusiasm, he rose from his seat, heading towards the kitchen to see if he could offer any assistance there. The more he moved, the less of a chance Cogsworth's "slack senses" would pick up on him again.