Author's Note: Has it been a year? Oh. Um… Can everyone excuse me for a moment?
"What follows is an excruciating montage of Emma typing furiously, chugging water bottles, and watching scenes from Beauty and the Beast while You're the Best plays in the background."
So. If anyone is wondering why I've been such a lazy dunce who has all but refused to spend time on this story-despite the encouragement perpetuated by so many loyal readers-I…haven't got much to say aside from: life. Life, internships, my first year of college, work, boyfriend, YouTube, portfolio, procrastination, animation, and a severe dip of interest. Don't get me wrong; I will finish this story, and I won't let it slip through my slippery grasp into the abyss of neglect. For my Interest has returned! Where have you been, man?
Interest: Up your butt.
WITH THAT ASIDE! Whew, what a ride! As promised, I shall respond to each and every one of your reviews. Commence them!
CassandraDayTree: They were close, weren't they? Ooh, I love teasing the readers. Of course, it isn't in my best interest to abandon something for a year. As an avid reader, I downright hate it, and I owe everyone an apology for the wait.
A Person Who Likes Comedy: Hey, Buddy! Glad to have you back in the club of Lumielle. Thanks for the review. And no, I'm afraid that Gaston is not postponing the wedding anytime soon. In fact, he wants it to happen as quickly as possible, and nothing can stand in his way. Right?
FluentFletcher2: Oh my Gosh, you have come back! You've come back from the dead! Cripes almighty, Fluent, I thought you had abandoned me….which is pretty hypocritical to say I thought you had died and gone to Purgatory! I thought-you know what? Never mind. I'm just overjoyed to have you back, dude. Thank you so much for the review.
Belle: Man, oh man, I owe you a serious apology for going on that hiatus of mine. It's something I try to avoid with all my strength, but sometimes, it isn't enough. ...I do think you're right, by the way. Just as Scar would make a very handsome rug, Gaston would make a terrific toilet brush. Kidding aside, I'm very sorry I've kept you waiting for such a long time. It's just ridiculous, and I hope I can make it up to you. Hey...your final review gave me the motivation to do this chapter. Thank you for that. I hope you realize that you're the reason I wrote this.
Cheeky D'Monkey: Hey man! Thanks for dropping by again! I'm ecstatic that you were "blown away" by the chapter, and HOORAY! Lumiere got his wicks back! :D It was inevitable, don't you think?
Noname: I'm excited, are you? And yes it's true, he will tell Belle the truth, as soon as they have some time alone and such.
Emojisteve: Well, if I've converted you into a Lumielle shipper, then I've done my job.
Singertobe: Oh, you bet he will. They just need some alone time, if you know what I mean. *wiggles eyebrows* I know I'm going to have a blast writing that part, whenever it may come, and I certainly can't wait for you to react to it. Fingers crossed and hope you like! ;•) And by the way, thank you for sticking this long. I really appreciate it.
Wyldstyle: Love your name, and thank you! I know it may be hard to swallow, but my parents don't necessarily approve of this website which is completely understandable, but I don't think they understand the power of the fandom and it's strength hold upon those who become acquainted with it. But hopefully, one day they'll find out and...react NOT completely pissed? Maybe... I don't want to get my hopes up.
Child Of Dreams: Yeah, I'm well aware of the typo, haha! Gotta go back and fix that as soon as possible. Anyway, thanks for favoriting and following my story! It really warms my heart to see that, and thank you also for the review!
Bailey Noelle: If I've converted you to Lumielle, then I've done my job. I just hope you haven't died while I was away.
To everyone of my readers, I sincerely apologize for my abandonment. I WILL finish this story. But not only that. I will finish this story and do it in a way that will leave everyone satisfied. Thank you, everyone.
...
Chapter Eight
...
In the woodland of France, Prince Adam was having a spectacular party to celebrate his eleventh birthday. Every servant present had made sure that everything was grandeur, made to be in utmost perfection. They were hoping the party would provide some distracting comfort, for it was not too long ago that the prince had lost his mother and father to the wolves.
Adam smiled as his servants wished him "Bonne fête!" and skipped over to the refreshment tables. He plucked a palmier from its platter and took a bite.
"Bonjour, young prince!" Adam stopped chewing and spared a glance at his maitre d', who bowed in respect.
The prince gave a curt nod, but nothing more.
"I see you're enjoying the refreshments," he went on with a proud smile. "Don't hold back! It's not everyday a young man turns eleven."
"Don't think I will," the boy returned with a mouthful of food, and turned to snatch another morsel from the display.
"Just try and save space for desert," Lumiere advised, missing the flinch of flaring annoyance from his master.
"I'll eat what I want!" The prince snapped, causing his servant to freeze.
"...Oh, you can!" Lumiere quickly amended, holding his hands out in front of him in a defensive gesture. "But Chef Bouche has prepared a most beautiful cake; he'd really appreciate-"
"I'll eat what I want," repeated the prince with a growl, taking another bite with an air of finality before stomping away.
Lumiere blinked, unsurprised. The young master had adopted a rather unflattering attitude as of late, and it was getting to be quite a problem. The little outburst that had just occurred was nothing compared to the harshness that would usually befall he and his fellow servants. Lumiere bit his bottom lip and glanced at the refreshment table before spreading out the wrinkled tablecloth that the prince had disheveled.
He could only hope that this was a phase. A temporary wrinkle in time.
Prince Adam's stomping lessened as he walked off with a scowl, finishing off the last of his treat before turning to his presents, all laid out before the grand staircase. "That's more like it!" He thought, mood instantly brightening, and he began to count them.
There was then a knock at the door, and feeling especially energetic, Adam answered it himself, expecting invited guests that had beaten the weather.
Instead, a haggard old woman stood outside. Her decrepit appearance startled the young boy, and he drew back as her wrinkly old hand withdrew from her robes what appeared to be...a rose. Adam swallowed hard as his brows furrowed.
"Please," the ghastly-looking old woman croaked, her voice incredibly hoarse, "take this rose, in exchange for shelter from the bitter cold."
The young prince looked her up and down. Her haggard appearance almost frightened him, but he puffed out his chest, determined not to let an old crone scare him. ...Then, he became genuinely confused. There was a village not too far away; a few miles, and it was rude to turn up to a party uninvited. He glanced at her hand. And a rose? He scoffed. Ridiculous. He felt no pity for the old woman, and didn't need her haggard appearance disrupting his setup.
"I don't need a rose, scrounger," he sneered, and pointed over her shoulder to the snowy woods and swirling winds. "Go away."
The old crone did not adheer his command, and the young prince quickly became angry. "Please," she said again, her tone unchanging but her eyes glinting. The prince took no notice as she went on. "Do not be deceived by appearances."
Behind the prince, a few servants gathered to observe what was happening. Most of them looked particularly worried. Worried for both the woman and of the young prince.
"Master…?" Cogsworth, the head of household, timidly raised his hand to intervene, but one look from the prince shut him up fast, and he hid his hand behind his back.
Lumiere, however, stood what little ground he had in the matter. "Master, she hasn't a chance out there alone!" He tried to reason. "There are wolves and bandits, not to mention the storm."
"She's a beggar!" The young prince petulantly griped. "I can't have that hobbling around her. Look at her! Repulsive!"
"We have guest rooms! She-!" Lumiere wanted to say more, but a simple touch on his shoulder from Fifi deterred him. What could he do? When the prince's mind was made up, it was made up. He sagged.
"I understand my exterior may be off putting, but beauty lies within," came the quiet croak from the old woman, who rags whipped around her stiff body as the winds tore at them.
For a moment, all was quiet, save for the howling winds of winter.
The prince flinched and put his hands on each of the doors. Giving the old woman one last disgusted look, he dismissed her again. "I have spoken. Go away, you wretched old hag."
"..."
Adam slammed the door unforgivingly, sealing the curse that would doom him...and his servants, for good. Said servants behind him felt their hearts drop as the slamming echoed throughout the chambers.
For a moment, all was quiet as the prince stomped away, quite perturbed that his party had been interrupted. The rest of the servants snapped out of their horror and quietly got back to business, leaving Lumiere, Cogsworth, and Fifi to discuss what they'd just witnessed.
They stared at amongst one another. "This is getting out of hand," the leaner of the two men said quietly, anger rife is his usually calm tone, and Fifi nodded sourly, twirling her feather duster in hand.
"That child does not know how to behave," she agreed.
Cogsworth just sighed. "You're quite right, but-" he snuck a glance over his shoulder to make sure the topic of interest was out of earshot. He turned back to the others. "I don't think we can do much about it, unless one of us wants to take on the challenge of filling a parental role."
They were quiet for a moment, which allowed the creaking sound of the door straining to be heard by all three. They stared at it incredulously.
"Did you hear something?" Fifi whispered to Lumiere.
The door burst, flying off of its hinges and hurling overhead.
The trio shreiked and ducked as the door crashed across the ballroom floor, barely missing a group of dancers as they delicately leapt out of the way. It came to a groaning stop at the feet of the shocked prince, whose wide-eyed stare jerked up from the fallen door to the now open doorway.
Mrs. Potts scooped up Chip into her arms and backed away, prepared to run if anything but snow came through that doorway.
A flicker of unnatural light weakly twinkled in the dark, before a burst of it shone through the foyer.
"What is that!?"
...
Belle didn't see any use of arguing since her friends were in danger, but stubbornness is prominent in those who've been pushed to the brink, so she kept herself physically distant from her…future husband.
Lumiere hopped along beside her once they reached the outskirts of the village and away from the townsfolk who might catch a glimpse of him and start calling out numbers early.
The distance between himself and Belle annoyed Gaston, and he turned to look over his shoulder to watch. The little enchanted object was just as freaky as he expected, and socializing (what little had happened) with the thing had seldom changed his opinion.
He stopped dead in his tracks, allowing Belle and Lumiere to catch up to him. "Have I asked what dark magic was responsible for this?" he queried. They meant to walk (hop) straight past, but he held his broad arm out, disallowing Belle from traveling any further.
"I don't think you have," she mumbled, ducking beneath his arm while keeping a close eye on Lumiere. "But whether or not dark magic was the cause, they were all victims of a curse. It's not their fault."
Gaston puts his hands on his hips, uncharacteristically contemplating. He didn't understand. They were not human. There was nothing to protect. "It's just not right for something like that to exist," he proclaimed, "having ideas and thinking…?!" He shook his head with disapproval and continued on past her.
The candelabra turned to his friend. "Epouvantable, that man," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, and Belle gave a stiff nod as she walked on.
"Mmhmm," she acceded, more to herself than him.
"And you have to marry the brute?" The candelabra whispered, appalled by the prospect.
Belle said nothing at first, and Lumiere glanced to the side, concerned that he'd pushed a bit too far. However, the young woman eventually lifted her head and answered, albeit reluctantly. "That-That was the deal..." the young woman tensed, hugging her sides. "It was either that, or everyone dies, and there is no way I would let you perish at the hands of-" She stopped, for Gaston had made his way over to her left (Lumiere was on her right) and put his arm around her.
"You see that, Belle? Way out there?" He pointed, and she followed his finger. Lumiere lingered below, gazing off into the direction as well. It was a beautiful meadow.
"See what?"
He was pointing to the beautiful hills in the distance, where she, all those months ago, had found Phillip and began the search for her father. "That's where the boys and I going to build our home. A brand new threshold just for us!"
"How nice," the young woman replied, hoarse and without much enthusiasm.
For a moment, she felt the strong hand on her shoulder wilt. She blinked in surprise when Gaston sighed, and the grip around her shoulder fell away.
"Belle," the hunter sighed, trying to meet her wide eyes, "you could at least try."
Try? Try? To even suggest-?
Belle was suddenly enraged. Her eyes widened, her nostrils flared, and she pulled away in a flash. "Try!" She lashed, "To what? Appreciate this? LOVE you?!"
Gaston started, and stared at her in surprise, as if she were missing something.
Belle shook her head and let out a slightly hysterical laugh, "That will never, ever happen, Gaston. I was never the actress."
"C'est pas vrai!!" Gaston put a hand over his chest, greatly offended. "I'm not asking you to pretend! I'm telling you try and be genuine. You don't have to be an actress. Acting is hard. Authenticity isn't. "
Lumiere let out an outraged sputter at that, and although he covered his mouth with a free "hand" it must be confessed that Gaston heard. Ignoring Belle's protests, he turned on his heels to make a quick grab for the candelabra, but Lumiere leapt out of the way in time to avoid the large hands. Gaston's handsome face contorted into an angry sneer. "If you want to complain, you can take it up with me, you horrible cre-AUGH!" The hunter ripped his gloved hand away and shook it quickly to quell the flames that had engulfed it.
Belle gaped.
As he tried to hop away to safety, Gaston hurled his smoldering glove at the enchanted object with an angry yell, knocking him off his base. The candelabra felt the wind knock straight out of him as he crashed to the dirt, which he didn't believe was even possible due to his lack of lungs. But that hardly mattered now. What mattered was Gaston's boot ready to crush him.
"DON'T!" That was Belle, and Gaston had the courtesy to adhere the command, his foot inches above his adversary. "Just, please, don't," Belle slowly repeated. Taking a hasty step forward to clutch the fabric of his red sleeve, her tired hazel eyes met his. "This is just between you and me, Gaston. He's a bystander caught in the middle; it's NOT his fault."
The man looked to her skeptically and then maneuvered a glare to a groaning Lumiere, who was just beginning to pick himself up from the ground and attempting to brush the dirt off of his gold exterior.
Gaston...well, he was torn. On one hand, he would love nothing more than to stomp until that annoyance was flattened, posing handsomely as he did so, but on the other end of the spectrum, this thing (as far as he knew) was the best leverage he had in order for Belle to hold her end of the deal. Not that he thought he should even HAVE leverage, as he was quite charming, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
So, with great regret and great anger, he slammed his foot down inches away from where Lumiere now stood, causing the very ground to shake and topple Lumiere to his side once more.
"Oh, I'm uncertain if anything will reconcile, bystander or not." Taking a deep breath, Gaston smiled, rolled his shoulders, and turned back to Belle, who shrank beneath his intense stare. "Maybe...Maybe I've gone about this wrong." He thought for a moment, and then snapped his fingers. "Aha! Motivation!"
"M-Motivation?" Belle wavered.
Gaston just waved flippantly. "I'll explain later," he dismissed. "I have big news to tell your father about and I want you to be there while I tell it."
Belle was still for a moment, her feet seemingly glued to the ground while her mind screamed for her to follow. To her right, Lumiere shakily patted her leg to give her some reassurance, and Belle quickly straightened. "Very well," she mumbled, clasping her hands together as she began to walk once more.
"Don't worry, my dear. Things will look up soon," Gaston assured her. "Our wedding will be fantastic! A new chapter to begin the rest of our lives. A dream come true." He was trying to calm her nerves, but couldn't quell the hint of a threat from, "Make no mistake about that."
...
Back at the house, Maurice was worried sick, pacing to and fro and biting his nails. Every time a minute passed a fresh layer of anxiety would shoot up his spine, because there was nothing he cared for more than his daughter. Nothing. And now that-that brute of a man was about to marry her-! Just-! Sickening!
"Oh, do have a seat, Sir," Cogsworth begged, clasping his little metallic hands together from his spot on the bench. "You've been doing that for nearly half an hour now! You're beginning to stress me out, doing that." He did not, in fact, admit that he was stressed most of the time anyway.
"I know, I know," Maurice croaked weakly. "But-"
"You can't help but worry," Mrs. Potts finished for him, hopping up to his side, causing him to pause his march and look down at her. "You're a good father, Maurice, worrying for your daughter, but I don't think she has much to fear. After all, from what I've seen, Gaston won't harm her."
"It's Lumiere I'm worried about," Cogsworth sighed, "if I may be so frank."
Mrs. Potts (from down below) looked pleasantly surprised at Cogsworth, who rolled his eyes and mumbled something indirectly.
"Oh, no, it's alright," Maurice dismissed, finally adhering to the clock's advice and taking a seat at the workbench, though it must be confessed that he went on fidgeting. His pale wrinkled face was riddled with despair, and the enchanted objects glanced at each other worriedly. This was going on too far. If Belle's absence was enough to do this to her father, then-
"Hey guys!" LeFou's jovil voice from outside filled the room. He'd grown rather cautious of the enchanted objects and had taken refuge outdoors, away from the basement but close enough to keep an eye and ear out. Now he was poking his head in through the hole that was supposed to be a trapdoor but had been broken by Chip a mere couple of days ago. "The boss is back! Everyone up and at 'em!"
Mrs. Potts sucked in a breath and calmly ordered her children to, "Hide under the table, my dears. That's it. Behind the toolbox. You'll all be alright."
The majority of the frightened youngsters obeyed their mother's wishes, hopping to the table and cowering behind said toolbox. During all the fuss, however, one poor child became dazed when his siblings hopped past, leaving him spinning in the dust and overshadowed by Gaston's hulking form as he entered the premises.
"Bonjour, everyone," he greeted, and to his beaming friend, he praised, "LeFou! Fine job keeping an eye on them." LeFou gave a confident but clumsy salute, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth.
The child before Gaston squeaked in terror and scrambled to his mother before the giant boot smashed him to pieces. Belle carefully stepped around, shooting an apologetic gaze to the clutch of tea cups before working her way to Gaston's side. Lumiere scurried past, sending an anxious gaze to Belle and then his fellow servants. At the candelabra's appearance, Cogsworth sighed in relief.
"It wasn't that hard," LeFou dismissed, trying to act nonchalant. "When you're presented a babysitting gig, you gotta take charge."
It would have been wise to keep quiet, but Cogsworth was far too insulted to care. "As far as I recall, you're a mere crony," the clock scorned, causing LeFou take a start and glare fiercely. Cogsworth glared back, but nothing else happened. Belle watched, a bead of sweat trickling down her forehead as her pale hands clasped together.
"Now," Gaston announced, clasping his hands together. "Monsieur D'Arque is the head of the local asylum."
Most of the enchanted objects were confused, but Lumiere just sighed. He'd had a cousin put into the local bedlam for hearing voices that weren't there, but because he hadn't heard from or seen his family in over ten years, he couldn't be sure of any details.
"He's the man who tried imprison my father under false pretenses," Belle quietly revealed.
There was a small silence, and then outrage flooded the room amongst .
"W-What?" Cogsworth was especially appalled as he addressed Gaston. "You were going to commit a man of sound mind? That's simply outrageous! Why in the world would you-?"
Gaston spread out his broad arms, but LeFou beat him to the punch, poorly mimicking his boss's deep tone, "Somethin' 'bout raving about a beast in a castle-," and earned a slap to the top of the head.
"…B-But he's..."
"An honest loon, but still a loon..." Gaston trailed, and then stood, his large form towering over everything and everyone, including Maurice. "A traumatic experience like that was bound to drive anyone from sanity anyway, don't you think?"
LeFou nodded and grinned when Maurice's face went from angry to fearful. "Oh yeah. Definitely," he agreed, crossing his arms and strolling over to where Cogsworth was standing on the table. He narrowed his eyes at the enchanted object, which put up his little fists.
"Now see here, you dingbat!"
"Ah-ah-ah!" Gaston scolded, getting in between the two. "We're going to be civil. For now." He glanced at Cogsworth and lifted his chin. "Then, again, I guess you can't understand civility, being as what you are."
Cogsworth spluttered. That would have almost been funny if not for the circumstances. "E-Excuse me!" He spluttered indignantly. "As head of household, I am nothing if not civil. It is my forte!"
"Oh-ho!" Gaston flicked Cogsworth's "nose", which caused the clock to grimace and swat at the giant fingers. "Smart-aleck. He's all yours if you want him, LeFou." The clock froze and Mrs. Potts gasped. Belle watched, pained, but said nothing, her lips set in a thin line.
"That's not necessary-!" Maurice began to protest, but Gaston loomed over him, quite intimidatingly.
Belle flinched, every nerve in her body screaming at her to stop him, but her fear for what may happen if she DID kept her still. Even then, she trembled with abhorrence, which went unnoticed by her betrothed and his lackey. "As for you, old man, Monsieur D'Arque isn't happy with your situation."
"Y-You're going to arrest me again?" The poor elder asked faintly.
Gaston rubbed his chiseled chin as the room held its breath. "Even if it comes down to it...no." Maurice blinked, and then a wave of hope and relief washed over his being. LeFou was especially surprised, but for once, he kept his mouth shut and let his boss elucidate.
"I've thought about this," Gaston mused, which caused LeFou's jaw to practically drop to his feet. Yet, it made sense. Gaston had used Belle's father as blackmail to try and get her to marry him, but now that it was already happening, was the help of Monsieur D'Arque necessary?
"Belle loves you," he went on. "You're her father, and she listens to you. She respects you. Besides, it's no secret that you're a smart man, withal loony, but…" he gestured aimlessly. "You serve more purpose in life than to just rot in an asylum."
Ah. So Maurice was useful, rather than worthwhile, to Gaston. He would be a great help convincing Belle to do or say things that she wouldn't for Gaston, as well as serving as a pawn.
Beneath a workbench behind Gaston, Lumiere had been silently glowering, but now, he chuckled angrily, "That's low hanging fruit, even for you."
Gaston closed his eyes, and LeFou urged him to count to ten, not wanting the anger to be taken out on him if it couldn't be taken out on the enchanted objects.
"Wicks...are easy to remove," the hunter warned without turning, pointing a finger for emphasis, but Lumiere emerged from his hiding spot, unfazed this time. This was far too much. The weight of the day was taking its toll, and Lumiere was close. Close to snapping as Gaston continued to make threats. His hope and future, along with everyone else's, had been squandered because of this man. This man, who he was powerless to stop in his state. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.
The candelabra smiled, looking as suave as ever, but his smooth tone was nothing short of eerie. It sent a chill down the spine of the young woman in the room. "Monsieur, Monsieur, Monsieur… Must we always resort to violence to solve our problems?"
Gaston blinked, a bout of infuriated annoyance flickering back to life inside him as he refused to look in the candelabra's direction.
Ignoring the frantics whispers of his fellow enchanted objects, Lumiere went on to hop out from his hiding spot to the center of the room. To Belle's alarm, his flames had gone from red-orange to blue sapphire, an indication that his composure was wearing extremely thin. All natural light within the room had been overcome by clouds outside, allowing the blue glow to illuminate off the faces of everyone present. Mrs. Potts gaped at her friend and ushered her children to press against the wall beneath the table. Cogsworth watched with a touch of permanent worry tugging at his clogs regardless of his marvel at Lumiere's bravery.
"You trespassed onto our land, stole us from our home, murdered our friends, and-" he paused for a moment, recounting the most painful memories, "-it's so unjust that you of all people have become the leader of a civil society."
Another pause, and Lumiere's eyes narrowed dangerously,
"But I don't suppose you know much of civility," the candelabra threw back with a growl, remembering Fifi, Madame, Bouche, Pierre, and all of his charm disappeared, revealing the inner suffering of a breaking soul, "considering what you've done."
LeFou wanted to grab a nearby broom and beat the thing, but he was honestly too scared to try. Gaston clenched his fists and turned his eyes away from the blaze, hunching over the worktable. Maurice shrank back against the wall, eyes shut tight and forehead sweating.
Lumiere was becoming a living inferno, his own pent-up fury nearly melting the wax that made up his physical being.
Belle couldn't see. Couldn't see anything but the enraged sapphire, and it was too much. It was too much. The heat was engulfing. Belle clamped her hands over her ears with a whimper and shook her head and and forth.
"Stop. Stop. Stop." She begged in her head, so of course, nobody heard.
Gaston felt like he was imploding. Lumiere's words-the truth-was killing him. Or, at least it would be if weren't so full of denial. He was the most handsome man in town! Beloved by all! Best hunter around! No one but these cursed abominations felt this hatred towards him. Yes! That's right! Gaston internally nodded.
Right. Right. Right. Lies. It was all lies. Those words spewing from the abomination's "mouth" were falsehoods.
...Still. He hated to be insulted.
"It would be so much easier on everyone," Lumiere finalized, the blue flames flickering about, "if you ha-"
"ENOUGH!" Gaston roared, slamming his giant fist upon the table, causing everything on said table's surface to tip and everyone present to jump.
There was a small silence as Lumiere's flames slowly diminished to an orange hue, not because of Gaston's outburst, but because of Belle, who he'd finally noticed.
Ah non. She...She looked utterly cowed, hunched over the way she was with her eyes screwed shut, clutching her hair and whispering hysterically under her breath. Non! C-Ce n'était jamais son intention. He never meant to-! Lumiere swallowed, regret flooding throughout his being as the true consequences of his actions sunk in, but he maintained his stance in the middle of the room and stood tall, even as his flames flickered out.
Gaston was quiet for a long moment, drumming his gloved fingers on the surface of the work table before speaking, and when he did, his tone was nothing short of threatening. "I'm warning everyone and everything, right here, right now," he said quietly. "Any trickery, sabotage, any funny business," he paused, letting it sink in, "and there will be literal Hell to pay." Underneath the table, the children shivered, and Chip whispered to his mother about Gaston's inappropriate wording.
"As for you." Maurice stiffened at attention. "One more move from you-and that includes disrespect-" the hunter snapped his fingers, "you...won't like what will happen."
Maurice nodded distraughtly and Belle finally straightened to reveal her pale face.
"Belle," Gaston's voice became sweet and pleasant as he turned to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, albeit strained. "I know all this must be hard for you. I do. But if that ca…" Gaston glanced around the room for a moment and leaned in close to the woman to whisper in her ear. The objects leaned in-Maurice was too stricken-but nobody could pick up on it. Belle's already sickened face blanched, and Gaston pulled away after a moment or two.
"Understand?" He asked kindly, hand on her shoulder.
Belle's fingers shook as she clenched the fabric of her sleeve. "...Yes."
Gaston's face brightened, but a shadow of disbelief still hung heavy over the rest of him. Still, he tried to remain optimistic. "Outstanding. LeFou?" The little man jumped, shaken over what had just happened.
"W-What's up?"
"I want you to follow up with the baker. I think it's time to prepare for the wedding."
LeFou snickered (a bit hastily) without thinking, "Can't be any worse than the last one," earning him a hard smack to the back of the head before he and his boss finally left, leaving behind a cluttered mess of afflicted beings.
Belle let out a huge breath of air she hadn't realized she'd been holding and immediately rushed to her father, who was shaking. Cogsworth hopped from the edge of the table onto the chair and then to the floor. "Is he-?"
"Are you okay?!" Belle cried, cupping his cheeks, which had been drained of all color.
He nodded but his hands were trembling, which did not go unnoticed by his daughter, who clutched his cold digits in her own.
"It's alright, Papa," she whispered into her father's shoulder as the enchanted objects gathered around her. "He won't touch you. I won't let him, and I won't leave you." Maurice didn't respond, but lifted an weary arm to pat her own as she helped him sit back against the wall, and Belle hugged him tight.
Mrs. Potts hopped to the middle of the room to make sure everything was alright before allowing her children to reappear. When they were situated, she rushed over to the candelabra in the center of the room and nudged him roughly. "Lumiere!" she cried under her breath, her glassy eyes wide and rimmed red with shock. "What were you thinking?"
The candelabra stared at his "hands", to Belle, and then back to her with a strange expression on his wax face. For once, he was speechless.
Frustrated with his uncharacteristic lack of response, she went on with clenched teeth, "You could have gotten yourself killed!" She quickly glanced at Belle, who was busy with her father, and motioned for Lumiere to move under the work table.
Once situated, she tried again, a tad calmer, "What did you think that would accomplish?"
"Well, I for one thought that was admirable," Cogsworth chimed in. Mrs. Potts gaped at him, and he blinked. "Oh, come now. What's bravery without brazen?"
"Dangerous," Mrs. Potts hissed. "If either of you were killed, I would-!' She paused, lowering her gaze, and Lumiere finally spoke.
"It won't happen. Someone needs to stop that brute."
"Someone!" Mrs. Potts agreed, looking up to reveal the tears streaming down her glass cheeks. "But not you, Lumiere. Nor you, Cogsworth. We need to stay smart and away from that man. There's no telling of what he's capable of."
...
Author's Note: Holy. God. WHEN'S THE ROMANCE GONNA START?! Well, with what's happened, it may take time. Luckily, when it comes to romance, two minutes in real life is like 20 years in Disney time.
