Disclaimer: I don't own the Beauty and the Beast story, characters, or anything like that.
As they sped down the hall, she noticed a glowing light out the windows to her right. Not taking time to look, she burst through the door of the library. She paused with a sharp intake of breath. The sight of the library always astounded her. It was a massive room decorated with the multicolored paint of books. Books upon books upon books. There were staircases leading higher to the ceiling and columns holding up the roof that were made out of bookshelves. She would have stayed looking longer if Chev hadn't pulled on her apron. Regathering herself, she hurried across the room, her magically enhanced speed changing the books into blurs. But as she neared the entrance to the Great Hall, she started to slow and slow. She slowed until she was fifty feet from the doors. Then their speed was normal again. She neared the door, her breathing increased.
Forty feet.
Was the room getting brighter?
Thirty feet.
It seemed very hot for a cold winter night.
Twenty feet.
It was definitely brighter.
Ten feet.
At that moment a fiery ball of light crashed into the floor in front of her. She instantly summoned a bubble of water to protect her and her son from the wave of flame. As the smoke and fire lessened and altogether disappeared, she saw a familiar silhouette. He strode from the blackened carpet.
"Ah, Clara, I'm so glad that I finally... found you," he said, his voice thick with malice.
"Don't even start with me Lumiere. How could you do that?" she asked, her own fire sparking in her eyes.
"Do what?" he asked unctuously.
"You burned the forest and destroyed a Splendoran! Now the trees and rivers and animals are corrupted because of you!" she cried, taking a step towards him.
He scoffed, "That poor excuse for a magician? His defeat only proved his weakness. I only weed out the weak."
"And the forest?" Clara asked accusingly, stepping to the right.
He moved to block her entrance into the Great Hall, "A casualty in the war of the strong," he replied. "Now it is all the better, because now it has power."
"How far the mighty have fallen," Clara snarled.
"Well excuse me Lady Potts," he said sarcastically, faux bowing to her, "I should have known that a serving woman would have such a high command of what is mighty and what is not. You are weak," he spat.
"You think I don't have the strength to pass you?" she asked.
"Don't make me laugh!" he replied, smiling his sinister smile.
"If you're too scared, I suppose that is understandable," she replied, "Considering the circumstances."
"The circumstances?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes."
"Please, I am a fire specialist of the highest rank. I have read more books on magic than you've made cups of tea. I've studied for eight years at the Obcura Wizard School, earning my Merlinate in destruction. I have defeated over fifty other magicians. I created three new Casts of Power. I meditated straight through for a month, and I memorized the entire language of the Ancients. You are..." he paused, looking her up and down, "a woman. A woman with a child that I could snuff out as easily as I could blow out the flame of a common candle."
"All true," she replied, "But you forget one thing."
"What is that?" he scoffed.
"I'm a mother. And you just threatened my child."
His eyes flew open in terror as she thrust her arm forward. He tried to raise a shield of fire, but instead hundreds of gallons of cold water crashed down on him. Three tendrils of water surged him against the wall, completely submerging him. She threw him against the doors and tossed him across the room. Before he could stand she encased him in a bubble of water and swirled it into a massive whirlpool, launching him into the ceiling. Three times she slammed him back down onto the floor until he stopped moving, and blacked out. She raised an eyebrow,
"Meditated for a month? I carried a child for nine!" At that she turned and strode through the doors into the Great Hall.
Review if you please.