In other circumstances, if Babette saw Lumière running after another girl while they were exchanging banters, Babette would be easily compared to a boiling pool of lava, not to mention green as the grass with envy.
But the girl had come out of her room at last, and was most likely wanting something to eat, so Lumière had to hurry after her. This was probably the only time where it was acceptable to Babette, but that didn't mean she had to be pleased about it.
Still, at least they got to spend some time alone together.
Knowing Lumière and how much he had been wanting to get back to what he did best (in the kitchen, anyway), he was undoubtedly going to put on a spectacle of a dinner for our first and most important guest in years. This would be something to see.
As Babette swept into the kitchens, she saw immediately that every dish, piece of cutlery, and appliance was being put to work. She had seen it put to work before, but this was different. The whole kitchen was working harmoniously, like a full symphony orchestra, putting much effort and care into each dish like how a royal kitchen staff should. But its conductor, Babette noticed, was not present in the bustling kitchens. Babette peeked out to the dining room and saw her beloved beginning the proceedings, introducing a full course feast to the bewildered yet enchanted guest.
Babette had never seen Lumière be almost like a showman in his work, much less actually do his work, having only been here a couple days before the spell was cast. So she had become as entranced by his performance as the mademoiselle being served, becoming startled as she jumped out of the way for the carts of cuisine as they sped out of the kitchens.
As Babette continued to watch on the sidelines, she felt the excitement emanating from every dish dancing, every fork in a kick line, every cup spinning and twirling. All of the hope that had once been abandoned was being shown in simply serving the one who had found it and brought it back.
And then she felt it too, the excitement and hope. To think, that she had imagined all of them being lost in their own object forms while the Prince withered away into nothing, hating himself still for becoming the way he was, for making the mistake that caused his entire life to change. All of that despair and drear evaporated into thin air, and Babette had the urge to join their cabaret-like show.
Jumping into the final chorus and sashaying across the table, Babette showed in her own way how the girl's presence here had affected her and the castle in such a positive way, and Babette felt more glorious than she had in years. To finally feel like everything was going to turn out all right and that these dark times were over was an emotion that can only be compared to that of being in heaven itself. And to thank the one responsible for such a feeling makes it only greater, especially when she was looking up at them with her eyes dazzling, an enormous sparkling smile upon her face, because they were making her feel just as special.
The last note, the big finale, while champagne glasses exploded like fireworks, was so full of energy that they all had a vision of them being human again as they sang it right to the beautiful girl who could make the vision become a reality.
Applause was all they deserved, having poured their hearts out in their performances, and it was given to them with great enthusiasm if only by one, yet her cheers seemed to echo throughout the large dining hall, so the claps were as if doubled and tripled.
They all had hope at last.
Walking back into the kitchens, it was evident that the atmosphere had improved dramatically compared to what it had been just a short while ago. Every dish, pot and pan down to the last teaspoon hopped merrily back to its cupboard and drawer, feeling like they had achieved something great—which was pretty true. They were all thinking that this girl could really fall in love with the Prince and save them from a terrible fate.
Babette had wanted to praise Lumière for the extraordinary talent that she never knew he had, and how he never ceased to amaze her in a wide variety of ways. But our guest had requested to look around the castle, so both Lumière and Cogsworth had taken the initiative to make sure the girl didn't go near the West Wing. If the Master found out she had dined without him, the repercussions would be devastating for sure.
Mrs. Potts hopped over to her. "Now I think that went rather well, didn't it?" she said with a smile.
"Oui, I agree," Babette replied, reflecting the smile. "It seemed to brighten everyone's spirits—mine included, I must admit."
"It is a very notable improvement, yes," Mrs. Potts concurred, nodding. "Everyone did so well, too."
"Yes," Babette said softly, thinking again of Lumière's wonderful performance. "Oui, they did."
"That was so much fun!" squeaked an ever so exuberant Chip, skipping along to his mother's side. "Let's do that again!"
"Maybe tomorrow, dear," Mrs. Potts cooed maternally. "But right now it's time for your bedtime."
"Aw, do I have to?" Chip pleaded, his excitement being unhappily restrained.
"Go on, off to the cupboard." Mrs. Potts nudged him and Chip complied reluctantly, his hops slow and short.
As soon as Mrs. Potts had Chip in his cupboard, Lumière and Cogsworth burst through the doors, startling Babette and Mrs. Potts. Obviously in a state of shock, the first words out of their mouths were, "We lost the girl."
"You what?" the women cried.
"Lumière!" Babette had to chastise. They all knew the risks of letting the girl wander around under the Master's nose. If the Master found out, it was their necks.
"It was not our fault!" Lumière immediately stated in his defense, looking right at Babette. "The girl fooled us!"
"Bamboozled us!" Cogsworth emphasized, utterly flabbergasted.
Babette glared at Lumière with extreme doubt. If she had had arms at that point, her hands would have been on her hips.
"I know what you are thinking," Lumière began hastily, "but it is true! We had suggested to go to the library and we expected she was following us, because she had seemed so excited, oui?" he asked Cogsworth, who nodded vigorously. "But we had only just realized that she was not with us."
"Where is she now?" Mrs. Potts interrogated hurriedly.
"The last place we left her was—" Lumière stopped abruptly, a look of horror slowly dawning on his face like Cogsworth's as they both turned to each other and muttered, "The West Wing."
Babette got wide-eyed. "You did not."
Neither Cogsworth nor Lumière spoke a word but rushed out the kitchen doors with Babette on their tails, all heading to the grand staircase. Halfway up the stairs, though, a distant roar was heard, and all of them froze where they were.
"Now let's not panic," Lumière ordered after a long moment of silence. "Maybe the promise will keep her here and not have her running off."
Cogsworth and Babette both appeared doubtful. Sure, the girl could keep her feet firmly planted on the ground and stand toe-to-toe with the Master, despite being half his height. But she made the promise to a Beast. One who separated her from her own father and kept her here without any free will. Breaking a promise like this most likely wouldn't cause the girl much guilt.
And sure enough, the girl came racing down the steps as she slipped her cloak on.
"Where are you going?" Lumière cried, the girl running right past them.
"Promise or no promise, I can't stay here!" was all she said as snow blew across the foyer, reminding Babette of that night the Enchantress had begged to stay, which left her feeling panged, until the castle doors shut behind the girl.
They all stared after her, crestfallen, their last hope having just waltzed out the door.
"This cannot be happening," Babette mumbled, staring at the ground and trying not to absorb what had occurred, knowing she would breakdown if she did.
"She will not last in that storm," Lumière murmured, still staring after Belle. "She cannot possibly think she can make it in a blizzard."
"Apparently, she's willing to commit suicide to get away from him!" Cogsworth stated quite hysterically.
"Cogsworth, she will die out there!" Lumière shouted, grabbing Cogsworth by the shoulders and shaking him. "Wolves will get to her before the storm does, even on a horse! We have to tell the Master to save her!"
"Are you mad?" Cogsworth yelled back. "If you think we can convince the Master to do anything, I'd say you're the one who has a screw loose, not me!"
"Cogsworth!" Lumière persisted, his flames burning brighter. "For the first time, I am asking you to think clearly, now snap out of it! I cannot bear to think until I am reduced to nothing but gold dust and melted wax that a beautiful, bright young girl died in a snow storm when I could have done something. I am going to convince the Master to save her and you are helping me, whether you want to or not! Comprends?"
Cogsworth and Babette both stared agape at Lumière as he stood over Cogsworth with a fierceness in his eyes that neither the formers could have thought possible of him, leaving them both utterly speechless. Therefore, Cogsworth could only nod in reply, not even bothering to nag that he was head of the household and Lumière shouldn't dare be speaking to him in such a manner.
"Then we must hurry. Come on!" Lumière urged, already at the top of the stairs as Cogsworth struggled a bit to keep up.
Rushing to the West Wing felt so terribly slow to Lumière. Everything relied so much on time, and especially at that moment it seemed to pivot so exceedingly on speed that the slightest show of delay would be the shove that would decide whether they all lived or all perished.
But they somehow managed to approach the Master's doors quickly, according to Cogsworth.
They didn't even bother to knock.
"Master!" Lumière cried, his voice panicked and hurried. "The girl has run away!"
The Prince stood with his back to them, gazing at the Rose as was his normal behavior. At Lumière's words, though, his back became erect, ears perking up.
The Beast turned to them, a cruel scowl that always made his servants—Lumière and Cogsworth being no exception—cower in fear. "What?" he growled ferociously.
Lumière swallowed, but kept going, knowing that he was doing the right thing. "The girl has left the castle and has run into a blizzard. She will not survive unless she is brought back here. You must go help her!"
The Beast made no change in his countenance and turned back around. "She has made her choice."
"Master, do you not want to make sure she is safe?"
Silence.
"Sire," Cogsworth stepped in, choosing his words carefully. "I understand that she trespassed your quarters when she was warned, but surely death is not a just penalty for simply being curious. She had no knowledge of the Rose being here, or for what it stands for." His tone became soft with some emotion reserved deep within his gears, coils, and springs that had managed to show itself at last. "Besides, she…she is our last hope. For all of us. Please. Reconsider."
A moment of silence seemed to glacially slip by as the Prince continued to stare at the Rose. Another petal fell from the sparkling bud.
Then suddenly, "Where is she?"
"We assume the forest—"
"I will find her." And the Beast flew past them, his cloak a dark blur in the dimness of the Wing.
Babette had remained on the steps, pleading with whatever godly force was out there that this did not ensure the end, that the girl would return and reconsider the Master. To somehow be convinced to think more softly of him, and to give him a second chance.
As if in answer to her prayer, the Prince dashed down the staircase, barreling straight through the castle doors as they blew closed behind him.
She managed to take a deep breath. The Prince will bring her back safely. He had enough determination and strength to not give up until she was either safe or could fight no longer. He had held out this long through the curse after all.
After finding a window that prominently displayed the grounds and the tracks that both the girl and the Beast had made heading into the forest, Babette watched patiently for both to return, allowing no doubt to enter her mind that both will be walking back up to the castle through the billowing snow.
The storm was indeed on the verge of being dangerous to tread in. If anyone was in their house and looking out the window, most if not all would rather settle by the fireplace and avoid stepping outside the insulated walls of their home. Even from the height at which Babette observed the edge of the forest, it was a challenge to see past the snow flying every which way. She shivered, feeling the bite of the wind through the pane of glass separating her from the outside world.
Babette heard the approaching shuffle of her fellow objects and felt the warmth of Lumière wash over her as he stopped close beside her. Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts were right behind, forming a line along the window's edge.
"Dearest me, you two were right about the blizzard," Mrs. Potts observed.
"I can see why you might have questioned us," Lumière replied, a small smirk playing on his lips as he indicated his left where Cogsworth stood. "Cogsworth tends to over-exaggerate on many accounts."
"Hey!" Cogsworth cried indignantly. "I wasn't the one going on about how deadly the storm is and how 'we must get the Master', Mr. I-Can't-Bare-The-Thought-Of-A-Young-Girl-Getting-Frostbite!"
"Oui, now you think that after the Master has already left to fetch her," Lumière said with a roll of his eyes. "If you believe this storm is really so minor, then you go help the Master find the girl. I can bare the thought of you getting frostbite."
"It looks like that will not be necessary," Babette interjected, eyes set on the forest's edge in the distance.
Cogsworth and Lumière followed her gaze earnestly, and saw a dark shape emerge from the evergreen pines and naked oaks and maples: A Clydesdale horse carried a large mass on its back while a small figure pulled the reins toward the only safe haven for miles. As they came closer, it was determined that the leader was the girl in her familiar blue and white dress, but no cloak blew behind her. And the mass on the stallion's back—
"It's the Master!" cried Mrs. Potts.
"What could have happened?" Babette thought aloud.
"Never mind that!" the teapot said anxiously. "We must get the fire started!" And she hopped away quickly with Cogsworth following her closely.
Babette, who had had been thoughtfully watching the girl and her horse continue to tread up to the castle, turned to find Lumière gazing at her.
"Should you not be helping the others?" she reminded politely.
"You are not coming?" he replied, an eyebrow lifting.
Babette returned her sights to the only two that could have any effect on the curse. "I would not be much help." She looked back at him with a grim smile. "I am flammable, remember?"
A doubting tone in his voice, Lumière said, "So you would rather be alone?"
Babette's smile faded and she glanced away again.
Lumière grinned knowingly, offered his hand and said, "Come on. I would prefer to have you with me."
Babette smirked back and while walking beside him, said, "It is nice to know I am wanted."
Lumière laughed and leaned closer to say, "More than you know, chérie!"
She simply giggled in response, loving the fact that she was able to truly laugh again.