Up in Smoke - Oneshot
When Pere Robert returns from the servants’ quarters, they all rise to their feet. They all want answers, but judging by the grim look that hasn’t left the pastor’s face, they aren’t good ones.
It had started just last night, not even a day ago. One moment, Mrs. Potts had left Lumiere and Plumette in their quarters to serve the master his afternoon tea, and when she had come back, Plumette was on the floor, pale and shaking, with Lumiere kneeling over her, anxious, near panicking when she didn’t respond. Mrs. Potts had immediately sent for help—she kept her head, thank heaven, Adam thinks—and by the time Pere Robert had arrived, Lumiere was barely conscious and looking just as bad, if not worse. Still desperately trying to find out what was wrong with Plumette.
Pere Robert had ordered them all out. Every resident of the castle had to get as far away from the servants’ quarters as possible.
“Whatever illness they’ve contracted is contagious,” he had said. “They need to be quarantined immediately.” And then he had drawn a doctor’s mask from his bag.
“Well?” asks Cogsworth gruffly. “How long will it take?”
Pere Robert just looks at him. His dark eyes hold something that almost looks like grief. He shakes his head.
And Belle hides hers, unshed tears in her eyes. Cogsworth stands there, still waiting for a positive answer. Chapeau and Mrs. Potts look like they have just been struck over their heads. But Adam strides forward, coming so close to the priest that he has to put up a hand to prevent the prince from touching him (“I might have it too now, you can never tell,” he says calmly, despite his demeanor).
“Is there nothing we can do to help?” Adam asked, his voice low and full of emotion.
Pere Robert’s only answer to that was “Pray.” And then he left. And here they sat, in the gardens, trying to accept that there was nothing that could be done.
Cogsworth remembers when Plumette barely knew the layout of the castle. She had only been there a couple weeks, yet she was quick and efficient with her job, and as she became familiar with the staff and the queen, her confidence became the most notable thing about her. And how she would smile when he complimented her work! She may not know it, but he is proud of her. He loves her as he would a daughter. And Lumiere…he will never say this out loud to him, but Cogsworth respects him. When Lumiere first came to the castle, he was nothing short of the best footman they had ever hired. As time wore on, yes, he became a little too confident for Cogsworth’s liking. And yet. He would often catch Lumiere lounging around, but the tables would be set, the menu prepared, and Cuisinier hard at work making a meal that Cogsworth didn’t even have to give orders for. It is an honor to serve beside him. He has said it once before; he is fully prepared to say it again.
Chapeau and Plumette had arrived at the castle around the same time, one a few days apart from the other. They learned the ways of service together, even helped each other out where they needed it. Within a few days they had become friends, and when Lumiere came along, Chapeau had never seen Plumette happier. Lumiere’s optimism quickly became contagious; there would be secret gatherings at night, parties with food and drinks, smiles and laughter after a long day’s work. It was during those moments that Lumiere suggested he play his violin for everyone—“What’s a party without music, mon ami?”—and his talents quickly became a staple at those gatherings. Lumiere fit in with them so well that it felt like he had always been there. To imagine his life without them is near impossible. It’s because of them that he feels like a part of a second family.
Mrs. Potts feels as if she is losing two of her children. Before Chip was born, she cared for Plumette like she would a daughter, and Lumiere was Plumette’s perfect match, she had seen it before they did. She made sure to be there when they were having trouble, and they listened to her. During the curse, it was her mission to make sure that everyone had faith and kept their hopes up. No matter who they were, Mrs. Potts did that for everyone in the castle, not just Chip, but there were days when she found that she was feeling pessimistic, longing for her days in the sun. The two of them went out of their way to cheer her up on more than one occasion. And now…it was too soon. It was just too soon.
They all look up at the same time, share the same determined glance with one another, rise to their feet. They have all escaped death once before. If medicine won’t work, then magic will. It’s time to make a visit.
Belle stands up as well; she has no doubt been affected by them too. It was Lumiere who first made her feel welcome in the castle, helped her adjust to the strange ways of the curse. She and Plumette became fast friends; they had conversations in the East Wing about all sorts of things, and when the curse was broken, Plumette taught her about makeup and dresses. They were her family just as much as they were family to the other staff members. Without a word they depart from the gardens, leaving Adam alone.
Adam couldn’t remember a time without Lumiere and Plumette in his life. Even in his earliest memories, their presence is front and center.
Lumiere would put little shows on for him when no one was looking. Whether it was with books or shadows on the wall, he always enjoyed the stories that the man made up for him. And Plumette always made sure that the library was spotless so he and his mother could spend time away from his father’s watchful eye. He was even more grateful for them during the curse. Lumiere always kept a steady flame, spoke words that were not full of resentment towards him, but positive encouragement.
And Plumette was never afraid to give him advice about Belle, when he was willing to listen.
They are two of the best servants—and friends—that he could ever want, or need. Without them, the curse would still control the castle. He and Belle wouldn’t be married now. He would be alone.
It’s hours before they come back, but they come back with excited murmurings and hopeful voices. Agathe’s given them some kind of root; they claim it’s from a plant that grew when a drop of sunlight fell to the earth.
They waste no time after that. Mrs. Potts mixes the root into a drink, and sends Chapeau to the servants’ quarters with it. He comes back after a few minutes, and they ask him how the two are faring.
He says nothing, but it’s written clearly on his face: not well.
Not one person in the castle sleeps that night.
The next morning, everyone is up before sunrise. Against Pere Robert’s orders, they all head down to the servants’ quarters, their hearts pounding anxiously. But only Adam has the courage to actually open the door. All of the candles have gone out and the room is quiet—a bit too quiet for his liking. Adam takes the candelabra that Chapeau offers and steps inside, tentatively.
“Lumiere? Plumette?” he calls softly.
No answer. He raises the light higher and sees two figures on the bed, still, unmoving. He comes closer, horrible thoughts running through his mind, but he relaxes when he sees the slight moving of their shoulders. Not dead, just asleep. Not dead.
He sighs, calmer now, and turns around to give them more time to rest. He is almost to the door before he hears a slight rustling, and turns back around. They’re waking up.
“Oh my god…” Adam rushes to Lumiere’s side, and hears the others follow after him. “Are you alright? How do you feel?”
“You look pale, maitre,” he says weakly, his old smile back on his face. “I fear you may be coming down with something.”
Mrs. Potts bursts into tears. Cogsworth leans against the wall, his hand grasping at his cane. Chapeau smiles and Belle laughs, and Adam nearly faints from the relief of it all.
prompt from @lumiereswig
An oldie, but one heck of a goodie.
