Brigitte's POV
"There you go, just a little tighter now. Perfect!" Grandpapa praised. Brigitte grinned and pushed a fallen strand of hair out of her face. She had worked hard on this little box, putting the hinges together and even doing a little bit of carving. It was fun to have her Grandfather teach her how to work as he did, creating things out of nothing but a bit of wood and some metal bits. And it distracted her from the fact that her parents were missing. It was strange to have two empty chairs at breakfast, two faces she loved gone from her daily routine. It was temporary, yes, but still she didn't like it one bit. Their letters promised they would be back soon, but in the meantime Brigitte sought to distract herself in any way she could. Grandpapa obliged by showing her tricks and talents shaping and creating things out of simple blocks of wood.
"Do you think Maman and Papa might like it?" she wondered, holding the box up to eyelevel and scrutinizing it. Grandpapa had given her a stain that made the wood a beautiful dark color that shone in the lamplight.
"I think they would very much, yes," Grandpapa agreed. "They'll be impressed with how well you've done." Brigitte grinned at him and tucked the box under her arm.
"I'd like to find a ribbon to tie around it, like a proper present."
"A welcome home gift. That's a wonderful idea!" Grandpapa said with an approving nod. Brigitte's stomach fluttered at the idea of it, excitement bubbling at the thought of giving her parents something she had made herself. She thanked her grandfather for helping her and ran off to ask Madame Armoire for some ribbon she might have. Madame Armoire was Maman's lady-in-waiting (who's name made much more sense after Brigitte learned about the enchantment) and would surely help find a suitable ribbon for her gift.
She found the handsome woman in the servants' sitting room, mending one of Maman's dresses and talking animatedly with Cogsworth. He was listening patiently to whatever story she was telling him, something about singing on stage for the king by the sounds of it, and so Brigitte waited for her to finished. Several minutes later however, it became apparent that Madame Armoire was not going to stop talking any time soon and so Brigitte took a few more steps forward in the hopes that she might be seen.
"Hello, little miss. What can I do for you?" Cogsworth said, noticing her first, interrupting Madame Armoire.
"I was hoping Madame Armoire might have a ribbon I could have to wrap around my new box," she said boldly, holding out her artifact as proof for her need.
"Oh my, isn't that lovely!" Madame Armoire exclaimed loudly. "You didn't make that yourself now."
"I did," Brigitte confirmed, proud of herself and allowed Cogsworth to take it and examine it with Madame Armoire.
"That is some fine work," Cogsworth praised and Brigitte grinned with pride, feeling as though she might burst with pleasure.
"I'm going to give it to Maman and Papa when they come back," she explained as Cogsworth gave the box to Madame Armoire to look at next. "I was hoping I could get a bit of ribbon to tie around it."
"Oh, of course dearie! I think I have just the thing!" the Madame exclaimed and picked up her sewing basket. After a few moments of digging and muttering to herself (Cogsworth chuckling fondly as he watched) she produced a long, deep purple ribbon. "Will this do?"
"Oh, it's perfect! Thank you!" Brigitte exclaimed and allowed Madame Armoire to pool the ribbon in her outstretched hand. It felt silky and glistened in the light of the small fire, a thing of beauty.
"Allow me to help you tie it," Cogsworth offered. Brigitte thought she was perfectly capable of doing it herself, but allowed Cogsworth to help anyway. He merely held it in place though, letting her do the majority of the tying, finishing in a pretty bow on top.
"I bet you and your brother can't wait for your parents to be home," Madame Armoire said kindly. "They've never been away from you for so long." Brigitte nodded but didn't say anything; she missed her parents and didn't want to be childishly wanting for them to come back home, not in front of other people anyway.
"I'm gunna go hide this. Thank you for your help!" she said and dashed out the door, leaving the two of them chatting peacefully in front of the fireplace. She made it up to her room and hid the box under her bed. One more week before her parents would finally be home and things could finally get back to normal. She thought perhaps she should spend some time with Edmund before her parents got back. She hadn't spent as much time as she should with him those past three weeks, preferring to play outdoors or explore the castle than sitting and doodling in a corner of the library. He wasn't like a normal five year old; he didn't run or yell or like to get dirty. Really he was more like a grown up: boring. But he was her brother and besides, now that Chip was apparently busy with his new duties (leaving Cogsworth time to chat with his beau) there wasn't any excuse not to be with her brother.
So, after safely storing her box in her room, she wound her way down to the library where Edmund would inevitably be. As she predicted, Edmund was sprawled by the large windows, lying in the sun like a cat, a book propped up in front of him in which he was utterly engrossed. Grinning, Brigitte snuck on him, moving as silently as she could.
"Gotcha!" she yelled when she was close enough, jumping down on top of him. Edmund screamed and Brigitte burst into laughter, rolling off him. She let him jump on her in retaliation and he began to tickle her. Soon she was gasping with laughter as she fought against him, searching for his own ticklish spots to win their battle.
"All right, I give! I give!" she finally cried, admitting defeat and shoving Edmund off her. Edmund grinned triumphantly at her, making her laugh again.
"Are you two causing trouble?"
"No, Aunt Clarice," she and her brother echoed together. Aunt Clarice grinned at them and Brigitte couldn't help but smile back. She liked Aunt Clarice; she was a kind, warm woman who loved Brigitte and her brother as much as her own children. Aunt Clarice wasn't her real aunt by blood (Brigitte didn't have any of those) but she was better than any other Brigitte could imagine. Uncle Henry wasn't quite as nice as Aunt Clarice, but he would let Brigitte watch him make jewelry sometimes as long as she promised to sit still and not touch anything.
"Now, I know I'm not as good as your mother, but I have a fancy to read a story if you'd like to join me?" Without hesitation, Brigitte and Edmund rushed to the chairs by the fireplace. Brigitte nearly jumped in surprise when little Henry and Fleur raced past them out of no where, beating them to the rug in front of the fire. Cherine walked up beside Brigitte calmly, giving Brigitte a wink as she did.
"You're going to stay for the story, too?" Brigitte asked, somewhat surprised the fourteen year old would enjoy story time. As far as she was concerned, Cherine was practically a woman. She looked like it too; Cherine was tall and thin, but not too thin, and always wore nice clothes and never got dirty. Besides that, she was beautiful with her blonde curls and striking green eyes. Brigitte had blue eyes, but they were a deep sort of blue. She loved how her eyes were the same shade as her father's, but she couldn't help but admire the crisp green Cherine had; it was almost like her eyes were made of springtime.
The age difference between her and Cherine was the same between her and Edmund; since she found the age gap between her and her brother rather a big one, it was difficult for her to imagine Cherine didn't feel any differently about her.
"Of course I am," Cherine said with confidence. "How could I miss it?"
"You're not too old to be read to?"
"I'll never be too old to be read to," she laughed and Brigitte grinned, loving Cherine's self-confidence. She remembered then that her mother enjoyed having her father read to her, too, and they were definitely grown ups.
They settled down on the chairs and the rug in front of Aunt Clarice. Though it was quite warm outside, the castle was always a bit drafty and it was comfortable to be in front of the fire. Brigitte settled on her stomach, head in her hands, lying in front of the fire and her attention directed at Aunt Clarice. Her brother settled cross-legged quite near her and it was nice having him there. Cherine sat on the sofa beside her mother, hands in her lap, looking like quite a dignified lady.
Little Henry sat by himself in the armchair, but that was alright with Brigitte; he wasn't very nice and often whined about all sorts of silly things or pointed out how fairy tales couldn't possibly be real because of this reason or that reason, and it was best if he was out of her reach. She got in trouble a few times for trying to hit the older boy, particularly when he was teasing Edmund. Unlike his sister, he was darkly colored: black hair and deep brown eyes, very much like his father. It was fitting that they shared a name; they were basically the same person in how they looked and how they acted (though little Henry was much more of a brat, even though Brigitte thought an eleven year old should behave better).
Fleur sat as close to the fire as she was allowed; she was just six, a year older than Edmund, but had the same quiet grace that her older sister had. Brigitte wondered how people managed to have that sort of grace when there was so much to do and see. Fleur was a wispy sort of thing, too. It seemed like a good wind would knock her over, but none ever did. She had the same coloring as her sister; blonde hair and green eyes, but the green of her eyes was darker and somehow deeper than her sister's. Brigitte liked Fleur very much, even though she felt like she couldn't really play with her for fear of breaking her. But she was sweet and kind, and she was the perfect friend for her quiet brother.
Aunt Clarice began to read and Brigitte thought no more about her cousins, content to sink into the story of Odysseus for the next hour or so.
After awhile, when Aunt Clarice had finished the chapter she was on, she declared that she needed a break from reading and they should go off and play. Henry immediately dashed off, having been squirming anxiously in his chair for a long time now and making it difficult for Brigitte to concentrate on the story. Edmund and Fleur took their shared sketch pad and asked if they could go into the gardens. Brigitte thought about going with them, but she knew that they would just be sitting and sketching flowers (badly. . . though not too bad for a five and six year old) and Brigitte needed something more active. So she decided she should go see how Chip was enjoying his new work. He had been at it for a little over a week now but Brigitte hadn't heard nearly a word about it. To her surprise though, Cherine began walking in the same direction.
"Are you going to the kitchens too?" Cherine asked as she caught up to Brigitte.
"I was. I wanted to find Chip," Brigitte replied, wondering the same thing about Cherine.
"I'm looking for Mrs. Potts. She's been teaching me how to cook. Maman's not very good at it," Cherine said, leaning down to whisper this last part to her. Brigitte giggled, glad to have this small secret with Cherine.
"But, what do you need to learn to cook for?" Brigitte asked, genuinely confused. "We have someone to do that for us."
"I know, but it's still good to know how to do these sorts of things."
"What sorts of things?"
"Cook, mend clothing, those sorts of things. It's good not to be too dependent on anyone. My mother says your mother knows how to do all that sort of stuff, I'm surprised she hasn't taught you herself."
"Oh, well she might think I'm still too young," Brigitte brushed off, though she worried that she was falling behind. She could read and write very well, though she struggled a bit with sums, and Papa was teaching her to play the piano which she loved, but perhaps she should also learn how to sew up holes in clothes and to cook meat pies. It might come in handy someday, even if she did have people to do all that for her. She knew her mother often went into the kitchens, but Brigitte had never seen her sew anything. Perhaps she didn't do it well, like Aunt Clarice couldn't cook well.
"Chip!" Brigitte called as they approached the kitchen, seeing her friend walking in the opposite direction and glad to have an excuse to stop thinking about learning so many things for a little while. Chip turned and smiled at her, but Brigitte watched his eyes shift to her left and his smile fell as his face turned red. Brigitte looked to her left to see that Cherine had started blushing as well, her cheeks turning a very pretty shade of pink. This confused Brigitte, but she decided to wait and see if either of them said anything about it. As they came together, Chip's blush darkened and it was all Brigitte could do not to laugh at him.
"Hello, Chip," Cherine said, her voice light and sweet.
"'Lo," Chip grunted and Brigitte noticed he wouldn't meet Cherine's eyes. Then there was silence.
"Do you know where your mother is?" Brigitte asked impatiently, breaking into the silence that fell over them.
Chip's face brightened at this. "I can take you!" he offered a little too enthusiastically.
"Actually, I was—"
"That would be lovely, thank you," Cherine interrupted and she and Chip walked off together, leaving Brigitte to wonder what had just happened. She was a bit disappointed, too. She had hoped to learn how Chip's new duties were going, but apparently that would have to wait until later.
Still confused at how Chip and Cherine were acting, Brigitte wandered into the nearby kitchen in search of a snack while she pondered Chip and Cherine's strange behavior. She sat on a tall stool at the middle counter, chewing slowly on some strawberries and wondering what Chip and Cherine were at.
"You seem to be very deep in thought, little miss," Cogsworth said in a way of a greeting.
"Leave her alone, you nosey," Lumiere exclaimed beside him. "Maybe she does not want to talk about it."
"Oh, but I do!" she said earnestly, needing answers.
"Well then," Lumiere said and leaned forward, resting one elbow on the countertop, obviously intrigued in what she had to say. Cogsworth sighed at his friend's actions but also turned his attention on her, and so Brigitte told them everything she had just witnessed between Chip and Cherine.
"Oh, la la!" Lumiere exclaimed when she was done.
"It seems as though our young Chip is growing up," Cogsworth said wistfully.
"What? What is it?" Brigitte begged, in agony to know what Lumiere and Cogsworth seemed to know.
"Well, my dear, it sounds as though Chip and Cherine are quite smitten with each other," Cogsworth said carefully.
"They are falling in love, ma cherie," Lumiere corrected.
"Oh," she said simply. "Is that how it works?"
"Well, there's quite a bit more involved than just blushing at each other," Cogsworth said matter-of-factly.
"Oh," she said again, finding she was more confused than when she started.
"And it might not work out, you understand, since they are still so young," he continued.
"Shame on you, Cogsworth," Lumiere scolded. "I shall tell Madame Armoire of your lack of faith in love!"
"Well, they are young! He's not even sixteen yet. It's not to say I don't want the boy to be happy, but at their age it's bound to end up in heartbreak!" Cogsworth defended.
"And what sort of message does that send to Brigitte?" Lumiere went on as if he had not heard Cogsworth. "That she can just forget about love until she is twenty or thirty?"
"No, of course not," Cogsworth protested, obviously becoming flustered. "Brigitte, of course you may love whomever you want at whatever age you want, and I feel certain your parents would agree."
"You shouldn't bully him like that, Lumiere," Brigitte scolded when she could get a word in. "He didn't say anything wrong." Lumiere put one hand over his heart and bowed slightly to her in surrender.
"You are right, ma petite. I know Cogsworth meant no harm," he conceded.
"I most certainly did not. I hope the boy every happiness," Cogsworth said with a firm nod.
"And I know that I can fall in love whenever I choose," Brigitte added. "I don't think it will be for a long time, though. I am only ten, after all."
"Oui, ma petite. Enjoy your childhood while you have it!" Lumiere agreed. "There is no reason to worry about love! Leave that to Chip for the moment," he added with a wink. Brigitte nodded, but was still curious to see where this love business went between her best friend and Cherine. She wished Maman was home so she could talk to her about it, but it would have to wait.
It really bothered her more than she wanted to admit that her mother wasn't there. They had never been so far apart for so long and Brigitte decided that she didn't like it at all. She didn't want to be a needy little girl, but she loved her mother and liked seeing her every day, liked talking to her about things that were happening in the castle. Of course they were exchanging letters, but it wasn't even close to the same thing. The only consolation Brigitte had was that her mother's letters said that Maman was missing her just as much. And Edmund too, of course. And of course Brigitte missed Papa too. He was comforting to have around and wouldn't bug her about what was wrong if she didn't want him to. They could just sit quietly together, comfortable and peacefully, until one of them felt like talking. But just now Brigitte wanted to talk, and Maman would be the one she would go to for something like this.
Brigitte sat up that night, thinking a great many thoughts and quite unable to go to sleep because of it. If only her parents would come home. Their letters said they would be home in a week, but that was still a very long way away as far as she was concerned. There was a way, she realized, that she could at least see her parents before then. She debated this new idea for awhile, reminding herself that she hadn't been forbidden from using it, but it was still shut up in secret. If she was careful and if she shut the door behind her, she would be able to keep the secret and still see her parents like she so badly needed.
Determined now, Brigitte quietly opened her bedroom door and peeked out into the dark hall. No one was there, so Brigitte quietly tiptoed barefoot down the hall and towards that small room her parents had shown her once nearly two years ago.
Brigitte knew exactly what it was; she walked past it every so often and reminded herself of the story her parents had told her, making certain she remembered every detail. So even in the dark, massive halls, Brigitte made her way to the room quickly, never doubting a single turn she made. The castle used to frighten her in the dark; everything looked so different, so strange in the shadows. Now that she was a bit older and had explored every hall many, many times, even the secret ones, Brigitte knew that she had nothing to fear.
She approached the door that hid her parents' secret and carefully looked around her. In the dark it was hard to see if anyone was there, but the hall seemed empty. Even so, Brigitte opened the door only enough for her to slide inside the small room and quickly shut the door behind her. Assuredly alone now in the small, windowless room, her heart began pounding as the darkness became so complete she couldn't even see the small table she knew was only a step in front of her. Carefully, knowing the thing she reached for was fragile, Brigitte felt first for the edge of small table. Once she found its carved edge, she carefully inched her fingers upwards to its smooth surface until it hit the cool handle of the mirror.
"Please can I see my parents?" she asked the mirror and quickly turned it around when she realized she was holding it backwards. The green light was almost blinding after the total darkness and it startled her. It was only the second time she had used it and she wasn't quite prepared for it. But the green glow dimmed to reveal what Brigitte had been longing for: the image of her parents.
She grinned at the image she had been given. Though it was past Brigitte's bedtime, the party her parents were apparently attending was in full force. Her mother and father were standing together, her mother's hand wrapped around Papa's elbow and locked in polite conversation with some men Brigitte didn't know. Papa had on a fine black suit and Maman was in a maroon dress that sparkled at her neckline. It seemed as though they were having a good time, but when Papa reached up to rub the back of his neck in a gesture Brigitte immediately knew meant he was uncomfortable, Brigitte found that she was a little jealously glad of that. It was wrong of her to think it, but the fact that her parents wasn't having all that good of a time might mean that they wouldn't leave for so long again. Though she reminded herself they didn't want to leave in the first place and Brigitte immediately regretted her glee at her parents' unhappiness.
"I miss you," she said to the image though she knew they couldn't hear her. Brigitte lowered the mirror and allowed the image to fade and replaced the mirror on the table before the darkness of the small room became complete once more. She wasn't sure if seeing her parents like that made her feel better or not, but she was glad of it anyway. She snuck back into bed without incident and fell asleep dreaming of her parents.