Lumière sat in the silence of the clean dining room long after the dinner had ended. The guilt he felt for his tone and words earlier had been looming over him the entire time, and with work completed, he finally had the chance to sit down and think about it. As often as Babette picked the most inconvenient time to dangle the engagement over his head, there were as many ways to talk about their situation as there were not to. He had picked one of the wrong ones. Now, rising from the chair, he headed for the door, making his way to the servants' quarters, his mind racing quickly to come up with a sincere apology.
Standing outside Babette's room, Lumière took a deep breath, preparing for the worst. When angry and upset, Babette had a temper to rival that of the master himself. The slightest wrong word could set her off into a horrible fit. When he was sure that he could calmly handle anything, he knocked on the door. No response. He knocked again, and this time listened for any sounds coming from inside. Still nothing. Giving the doorknob a turn, however, he found it unlocked. He pushed it open to find a dark room with no one inside.
Lumière sighed in exasperation, leaning against the doorframe. The only thing worse than her temper was her habit of running off and avoiding him when she was angry. One would think that the long years of the spell, which prevented anyone from leaving the castle, would have broken the habit, but apparently not.
The only thing to do was look for her. He began his search throughout the castle, hoping she had made this easier by simply taking refuge in another room. After a hard day of work, he did not relish the thought of having to leave the castle.
The first obvious place was the maids' common room nearby. Most of the girls went there later at night once their work was finished. One of the first to notice him, unfortunately, was Veronique, one of the scullery maids.
"Well, well, it certainly has been a long time since you have paid this room a visit," she said, walking up to him with a slight spring in her step.
Lumière hardly paid her any heed. When he had first come to the castle, the two had been involved in a passionate liaison, but as time went on – more specifically after Babette's arrival – Veronique's true colors began to surface. She was a pleasurable delight, but when his back was turned, she was nothing but trouble. Considering how upset she was when he broke all of their ties, it was a wonder that she even gave him a second look now.
"I simply have not had a reason to, until now," he replied honestly.
"I can imagine," she replied, coyly taking his hand and drawing him close to her. "That was some lovers' quarrel earlier; everyone near that sitting room heard it." She paused to smile, her words dripping with seductive promise as she walked her fingers up his arm and down his chest. "Which leads us back to your reason for being here. Is your precious Babette refusing you tonight? Because you know…I always have time for an old friend."
Lumière gripped her hand in protest, pushing it away. "Non, merci," he said firmly. "I just wanted to know if she was here."
"Well, she isn't, and that is her loss," she purred, licking her lips like an aroused huntress. "After all, a man like you needs a woman at all times, and what she doesn't know will not hurt her, now will it?"
"When will you take the hint? He is not here to see you!" another voice called in a scolding tone. Lumière looked up to see Sabine, one of the older maids, making her way over. Veronique merely tore away, storming off in a huff.
"She will never learn," Sabine said, shaking her head.
"Never thought she would," Lumière laughed quietly. "But never mind her. Babette is not in her room. Did she happen to come here at all?"
Sabine shook her head. "Not in here, non. I personally haven't seen her since breakfast this morning." She looked at him, concerned. "Is she all right? Michelle and Jeanette said she didn't show up for dinner."
Lumière sighed. "Do not worry. I know she has not really been feeling well, and now – as everyone heard – I have only helped make her feel worse. Thank you anyway."
Sabine nodded. "No trouble at all. Tell her that I hope she feels better when you find her."
Lumière promised he would, and then made his way down to the kitchen. He got there just in time to catch Mrs. Potts, closing the door behind her for the night.
"That answers the question then," he said ruefully.
Mrs. Potts turned to him, puzzled. "What's that, dear?"
"I can not find Babette, and she is not in her room," he explained. "We had quite an argument earlier before, and I thought she might have come down here to talk to you."
Mrs. Potts shook her head regretfully. "I haven't seen her. The kitchen was just as busy as you were in the dining room."
Lumière closed his eyes tightly. "Of course, I apologize. I am just…not thinking properly. It was not just a quarrel earlier; it was more like a battle."
Mrs. Potts looked at him compassionately. "I wish I could say I knew where she was, but I haven't seen her all day. I'm sure she hasn't gone too far."
"Knowing Babette, I am all too certain she has," Lumière said forlornly, more to himself. "Though I had hoped she might have stayed in the castle for once." He sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day. "If Cogsworth looks for me, could you tell him that I will be back as soon as possible? I think I know where she is."
"Of course I will," she replied kindly. "Go on."
Lumière nodded in gratitude, racing downstairs to the foyer to grab a cloak before heading for the stables. The only other place to find Babette in times like this was the village of Molyneaux. On more than one occasion when they had fought as horribly as this, she had headed down to the tavern and gotten her revenge by flirting with the locals until Lumière came to talk to her. Of all places, he should have tried there in the first place.
But there was no time for "should have." All he wanted now was to find her and bring her home. And fast, he thought, looking up at the dark night sky, shivering. It had been cloudy earlier, and not seeing one solitary star, he could only imagine that the weather was unlikely to improve.
By the time he reached Molyneaux, his suspicions were confirmed as rain began to pour. Freezing, he saw to the horse and raced inside the tavern, sitting down in a large armchair to quickly warm up near the fire.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" cried a squeaky voice beside him, and Lumière looked beside him to find a short, unhappy…and somehow familiar young man frowning angrily at him.
"I am going to assume that monsieur means me?" he asked, puzzled as to what he could have done wrong.
"Yeah, you," the man countered, standing up to his full stature – which was nothing intimidating whatsoever – as though he were some high official. "Don't you know whose chair this is?"
Lumière shook his head. "Non, I can not say that I do."
"A great man, our town's hero, always sat in this chair!" his accuser shouted. "He died saving this village! No one sits here out of respect for him!"
Lumière stood, holding his hands up innocently. "All right, all right, I understand," he said, trying to calm the man's tension. "I did not mean any harm, monsieur. I am not here to cause trouble; I am just looking for someone here who means a great deal to me."
"Fine, just do it somewhere else."
Lumière backed away slowly to the bar, taking a seat on a stool instead. The bartender shook his head as he stepped forward.
"Don't mind Lefou," the old man said quietly. "Poor lad really looked up to Gaston and has been protective of all his things for a whole year since…that night."
Lumière looked at the young man, Lefou, again. He must have adored his hero, Lumière decided. He watched as Lefou dusted off and fluffed the chair with such precision that the lad's tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth while he worked…his face almost eerie in the fire's soft light…
The torch slowly coming towards Lumière threateningly…Dieu, that explained the familiarity, Lumière realized as he hastily turned back to the counter. The villagers of Molyneaux were the ones who had made up that terrible mob, and that Lefou had nearly melted Lumière to practically nothing! The man that died must have been the muscle-bound, dark-haired brute that attacked the master! Suddenly feeling very uncomfortable, Lumière looked desperately around the room for Babette, wanting to bring her home safely, as far away from here as possible.
"Are you all right?" the bartender asked, noticing Lumière's uneasiness.
Lumière bit his lip, nodding with a forced smile. "Oui, monsieur, merci. I am merely…not thinking clearly…uh…women trouble."
The bartender chuckled, placing a mug in front of him. "That's usually why we all come here in the first place, eh?"
"Actually, I came here to look for her," Lumière replied, getting back to the truth at hand as he took a sip of ale to relax. "She always runs off when she is upset, and has come to this tavern before."
"What does she look like?"
"Tall, dark hair, very attractive, quite a flirt when she wants to be."
The bartender thought for a moment, but shook his head. "Sorry, but there hasn't been anyone like that in here tonight."
"Are you sure?" Lumière asked, persistently. "Will anyone else know?"
"Believe me, monsieur," the bartender began. "If a woman like that did come in here, you would have to get in line to sit next to her. These boys love new blood. You could ask, but if they've seen her, she'd be the talk of the room. No one's said a word tonight about the kind of girl you described."
Lumière groaned, offering a begrudging but grateful "Merci" for the information. Where else could Babette possibly be? Glancing at a clock and noticing the late hour, he decided that she must have come down here, but probably left when it took him forever to follow her. Swallowing the rest of the ale in one drink, he left the payment there and headed for the door.
"Leaving so soon?" a silky female voice murmured behind him. Lumière whirled around instinctively, elation filling him with joy at the thought of possibly finding Babette…but there were only three blonde girls in place of the voice instead.
"The ladies must forgive me, but I am in a rush," he answered politely as he turned to go, but one of the girls, dressed in red, reached for his arm.
"Wait, didn't you need help?" she said.
"Looking for a girl?" another, clad in yellow, added.
Lumière turned to them again, curiously. "Oui, very much so," he said.
The third girl in green took his one hand in her own, while her sisters clasped onto the other. "Then we can help you," she said sweetly as they led him towards the stairs.
Lumière glanced between the triplets one by one cautiously. He knew that look that each of them wore all too well.
"You have seen the woman I am looking for then?" he asked.
"Maybe we have," the red dressed replied.
"And maybe we haven't," added the yellow.
The green dressed drew closely against him, whispering temptingly, "But whoever she is, we'll make you forget about her."
Lumière tore away from them in a heartbeat. "Then whatever 'help' that any of you have to offer is of little use to me. Bonsoir," he said steadfastly, angrily heading towards the door and leaving for good this time.
Red pouted as he left, giving both of her sisters a solid slap on the arm. "Now look what you both did!" she cried. "Scaring off a man that well dressed and noble looking!"
This, of course, only earned her arguments and whining from her sisters, as the three fought all the way up to their rooms.
ooo
Lumière returned to a dark castle, sopping wet and right back where he had unfortunately started. After drying up a bit and preparing for bed, he took a deep breath and headed for Babette's room, determined to make things right…
But when he raised his hand to knock on the door, his common sense got the best of him as he heard the clock toll an ungodly late hour. Babette was apparently so upset that she could not even wait for him at the tavern, and waking her up now was seeming like less and less of a good idea. If she was still as mad at him as she had been earlier, it would only get worse if he woke her. Thus lowering his head in defeat, he headed back to his own room, desolately, deciding it was best to let her sleep this off and wait till morning.
If only his nerves could agree with that theory, he thought, frustrated, as he tossed and turned in a cold, lonely bed before simply resting on his back and staring at the ceiling. He absolutely hated ending the day like this. But thankfully, the realization that the sooner he fell asleep, the faster morning would come conquered his uneasiness. Closing his eyes at last, he dreamed of his beloved's smile waiting for him to get him through the night. All would be well tomorrow.