A/N: First of all, let me say it's so awesome to be back and writing my next big project! This isn't going to be a massive story, but a nice little short one, a three part one shot if you will, so stay tuned! Also I must give the finest their credit where it is due. Firstly, letylyf for the French assistance, thanks so much! Secondly, Valerie (CrystalTear) for my own "fencing lessons!" LOL! Thanks! And most of all, Trudi! Her contributions to this story so far have been beyond my gratitude abilities. I can't express my thanks enough! She really helped me through some hard points. And now, enjoy Part I!

Prelude

A Three Part One Shot by Faith Kelter

Beauty and the Beast © Walt Disney Company

Part I – The Boy Prince…

Sleep, something that few men, if any, have learned to harness and conquer. The sun had not even begun to shine its first light when Lumière felt the familiar sense of awakening. Blinking instinctively, he glanced at his window, groaning at the sight of lingering darkness, but as he closed his eyes again, he turned onto his back, frustrated, as his mind began to function normally, much to his dismay. He was too tired to think, but his mind was too persistent. Hence his thoughts drifted to where they often did lately, the past few years.

Just last week had everyone celebrated Vincent's ninth birthday. Mon Dieu, nine years old already! Lumière thought, shaking his head in disbelief. How could years feel like mere months when minutes seemed like hours every day? It still felt as though it were only yesterday that the king's brother had denied custody of the young prince, leaving the servants of the castle to be his only family. As though Vincent were still the small babe lying in his bassinet every night crying fitfully at ungodly hours of the morning. Maybe that was why Lumière arose early every morning, he realized; it had become second nature.

The crying had not become a thing of the past, however, as everyone prayed it would. Often at night, even now, Vincent would fall into hysterical fits of tears for little or no reason. As a baby, it was one matter; for a nine-year-old, it was another. Many of the lower ranking servants who did not attend to the prince's every whim on a daily basis were constantly heard complaining about it. "A boy his age should know better!" they would say, but when those words were heard, Lumière, as well as Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts, paid them little heed aside from a scolding for their impudence. After all, Vincent was only a boy who, in a sense, was very alone in the world despite the numerous servants surrounding him.

A slender, familiar arm disturbed Lumière's reverie as it fell across his chest tiredly. Outside, the sun was at last beginning to peek over the horizon, and he turned his head slightly, using the tiny bit of light to adoringly gaze at its sleeping owner, his beloved Babette. Gently leaning towards her, Lumière caressed her forehead with a kiss, tenderly stroking her arm. She must have still been in a deep sleep, he decided, or else there would be a romantic response to such actions. Ah well, it had been a long night for both of them, and Lumière smiled dreamily at the memory. Babette was an incredibly ardent lover, just as he was. Unlike any of her predecessors that had graced his room with their presence, she was not coy or dainty (unless it was to her advantage, he thought with a smirk). She was his equal, matching him passion for passion.

After another moment, Lumière felt her begin to stir slightly, and he smiled as he buried soft kisses into her dark, silky hair, flowing loosely over the pillows as she had left it free from the usual nightly braid. He breathed deeply, taking in the scent of lavender, which always amused him. The fragrance was generally used when one needed to relax; yet coming from her, it was beyond exotic and thrilling.

"I know you are not asleep," he murmured, the warmth of his breath tickling her ear so much that she shrugged to calm the sensation before it dominated her.

Babette yawned sleepily, her eyes still closed. "Only half as such; your horrible snoring kept me awake most of the night…again."

Even though he knew she could not see it, Lumière gave her an indignant scowl. "I do not snore."

"Yes, you do," she argued lightly, not quite as willing to do so early in the morning. "Loudly and incessantly, all night long."

"Merci, Cogsworth," he teased, adding every ounce of sarcasm he could to his words. Babette, in response, at last opened her eyes to return his previous expression, but Lumière interrupted any unsaid words she may have been thinking with a smirk. "Besides, even if I did, I was certainly not going about it all night."

Just as it always did, the charming grin succeeded in lightening her mood, and Babette pressed heavily against him, being rewarded with a soft gasp of unexpected delight.

"You are right, of course," she agreed.

"When it comes to this," he growled desperately, holding her in place. "Neither of us is ever wrong."

"I was not finished," Babette said with a playful smile. She had so much more will power than he did, she mused inwardly before continuing. "You are right," she purred, "If I remember correctly…the majority of the evening, you lips were rather…preoccupied."

Without hesitation or protest, Babette readily succumbed to her lover's advances as Lumière, deeply sealing her in a kiss, loomed above her with burning desire. Then again, she could have said something as common as "Bonjour," and he would have done the same. So often, thank goodness, it was that simple.

As Lumière's hands roamed freely over his favorite places to explore, Babette reveled in the fire that was ignited inside her. Slowly, almost teasingly, he enveloped her in his embrace, and she found herself giggling softly at the thought. When people looked at Lumière, they would not believe that he was endowed with much strength. But in sweet, tantalizing moments such as this, Babette was willing to wager that he was stronger than anyone gave him credit for.

Holding her close, Lumière allowed his lips to savor the taste of her delectable neck, all the while encouraged by her words as she whispered her pleasant, scandalous promises in his ear. He could not control himself any longer, and it was clear that Babette was feeling the same way. He needed her, wanted her…had to take her…

If only it were not for those screams that were resounding through the foyer, tantrum-like, coming from the West Wing corridor.

"Oh non," Lumière groaned desperately, breaking their current kiss. Not now! "Oh, Dieu, non…"

"Oh oui," he heard Babette hiss from beneath him as she attempted to draw him back to her. "Mon bien-aimé, oui…"

As difficult and quite painful as it was, Lumière hastily pried himself from Babette's grasp and raced to change. The sounds from the foyer were growing louder by the second, and as she began to acknowledge them as well, Babette moaned from her tangled position amongst the bed cloths.

"Oh mon Dieu, tais-toi!" she growled.

Lumière turned to look at her puzzled as he buckled his belt. "I did not say anything," he replied.

"I did not mean you; I meant him," she sighed, offering a smile. "Trust me, Lumière; I would never dream of asking you to do anything that would involve closing your mouth."

Lumière closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath and still trying to subside his evident remaining desire. "Babette, you are teasing unfairly!"

"And the child is not?" she asked, absently allowing the blanket to lower slightly. "Every time we have a moment to ourselves, he starts his little tantrums; I can hardly believe that last night happened in the first place! Thankfully, Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts were kind enough to take their evening turns with him!"

"Cogsworth, I could not care less about, but we owe Mrs. Potts our thanks," Lumière said, fastening the last button on his coat. "I must help her calm him as I am sure she is there at this moment."

Babette pouted, folding her arms in annoyance. "I would like to help calm him, all right," she grumbled. "If only I was not a maid, I would jump at the chance to silence the little brat myself."

Lumière sighed with a smile and sat beside her, fully dressed to perfection. Gently caressing her cheek, he said, "This is not over, comprends? Not a day goes by in which I do not want you, ma chérie, I swear, and with such a lovely 'bon matin', my need has grown considerably."

Babette smirked, unable to resist. "I could see that before, still can."

Lumière gulped painfully. "You are a cruel temptress," he replied hoarsely, gathering her hands to shower them with kisses. "I promise, we will finish what we started."

"When?"

"Later."

"But when later?"

"Soon," he emphasized. "As soon as possible."

Babette pouted pleadingly, but frowned defeated when he appeared steadfast in his decision. "If we must wait, then so be it," she mumbled resentfully.

Lumière smiled gratefully. "That's my girl; I love you so much," he said, kissing her long and full one last time before he rose to leave. "Breakfast should be early this morning; I guarantee you, he will be up and about now. Please, get dressed and I will see you in the kitchen."

Babette gasped, wounded, as he left. Never had he said anything so disgraceful to her as "Please, get dressed." Rising to do so, however, she was determined to give him a proper scolding later.

ooo

"Shall I just stand outside your bedroom door to make certain you come the moment we need you?"

Had Lumière needed assistance in ridding himself of any lingering romantic memories, Cogsworth's suggestion would have been sufficient. As he walked up the West Wing staircase, he found said head of the household waiting, an ever-present scowl upon his round face.

"If you step anywhere near my room, I might as well be ordained a priest," Lumière countered nonchalantly before he changed the subject to the true matters at hand. "What is the problem this time?"

Cogsworth shook his head, for once in his hardworking life looking rather fatigued. "I haven't the faintest idea really. Mrs. Potts was inside before, but she has enough to worry about with her own child. When I came to take her place in speaking to his highness, I discovered that the boy knows how to keep us out of his room."

Lumière could not help but snort a laugh. "He locked you out?"

Cogsworth glared at him. "Locked us both out, you mean."

Lumière simply drew a lock pick from his coat pocket; he always kept one at hand in case something happened to the wine cellar keys. Kneeling down at level with the lock, he worked at it for a few minutes before it clicked open.

Turning a victorious smirk on Cogsworth, Lumière rose to tower over his short companion once more. "Go back to bed, Cogsworth," he said. "It is too early to be awake, even for you. I will take over from here."

As Cogsworth stormed away muttering to himself, Lumière laughed gently; that was after all the closest thing to a thank you that he would receive.

Opening the door, however, he prepared himself for the battle ahead; Vincent was never an easy child to deal with. The scene was horrific indeed. A red-eyed, seething young prince frowned as Lumière entered, seated on his bed. In the middle of the floor there were scattered a few broken toys, wildly tossed bed cloths, and the walls were full of scratches and marks.

"What are you doing here?" Vincent snarled.

"Well for one thing," Lumière started. "Imagining how many unhappy faces I am going to see today after finding your room like this."

Vincent's frown grew into a menacing grimace. "What do I care? It's their job to clean it, not mine. I'm their prince, in case they forgot, and what I say goes." Vincent looked at him challengingly. "In fact…you clean it up. That's an order."

Lumière gritted his teeth. If Vincent had been his own child, he would have turned him over his knee long ago. It would have done the lad a world of good, he knew. But the unfortunate truth was that as royalty, Vincent did have every right to command his servants. The common credo of "children should be seen and not heard" was impossible to enforce in Vincent's case.

"As you wish, sire," Lumière said mildly, striving to appear unruffled, and began straightening the bedclothes and putting away the toys.

Vincent watched him, looking almost disappointed at the lack of reaction. There was silence for a few moments. Then Vincent said defensively, "Anyway, what does it matter if servants have extra work to do? They do not care about me; why should I care about them?"

"Now, now," Lumière admonished. "You know that is not true! We all care about you a great deal. That is why we all do our best to take such good care of you."

Vincent snorted. "You take care of me because you're paid and ordered to do it. You'd all leave tomorrow if you could." He folded his arms and stared challengingly at Lumière once again.

Lumière was startled. He stopped tidying and sat down on the bed next to Vincent. "That is not true. What on earth is suddenly giving you such silly ideas?"

Vincent looked away, not meeting his gaze.

"Vincent?" Lumière said softly. He rarely took the liberty of using the prince's given name, but in a moment such as this, it somehow felt like the right thing to do. "Tell me what is troubling you."

Vincent looked up at him, suddenly looking not like an arrogant prince, but like the little boy he really was. "I heard one of the girls talking," he mumbled.

"Who?" Lumière asked in concern.

"One of the scrubbing girls," Vincent answered bitterly. "Veronique."

"And what did she say?"

"She was very nice to me before when she would take care of me. I thought she liked me. She would sneak sweets out of the kitchen for me after lunch, and then she would tell me to go play while she finished her work. But yesterday, I forgot one of my toys so I ran back to get it, and I heard her say…"

Vincent trailed off quietly, his expression gradually turning angry rather than upset. "She said that if the wages were not worth the time she had to spend with 'that little monster', she would leave the castle."

"Veronique," Lumière repeated angrily. "I will have a word with her."

Vincent shrugged, his face now a mask of indifference. "It matters not. She is only a servant. They are all the same, and not worth my time or my interest." He stood up and walked to the window, as though bored with the discussion.

Lumière watched him, feeling compassion for the orphaned boy. "Listen to me," he said earnestly. "You must believe me when I tell you that most of us here truly do care about you. A great deal, in fact. And know this: we are not going to abandon you, Vincent. Not now. Not ever. You need to know that."

The young prince glanced at him hesitantly. Lumière held his gaze. Vincent nodded and said quietly, "All right. If you say so."

It was not the most reassuring response, but Lumière knew it was the closest he would get. Unless…

Lumière smirked, as if he knew the secret to end all the pain in the universe. "Say now, I think I know just the thing to make you feel better, guaranteed."

"What?" Vincent asked curiously.

"I believe I have been promising you fencing lessons for quite some time now, oui?"

The boy's eyes seemed to light up in a matter of seconds. "Yes! We can start them today!"

"Yes, today after your lessons; no sooner, no later," Lumière agreed. "You have my word."

The young prince gave an enthusiastic holler as he ran for his door, most likely to share his wonderful news, and Lumière followed not too far behind. Once again, he was a proud man, his quick thinking saving the day.

ooo

"Lumière!" Cogsworth called, irritated. Where was that bumbling fool when he needed to give him a good couple of smacks upside the head? "Lumière, for heaven's sake, you will be the death of me! Where are you?"

"You truly think you will find him by shouting like that?" a female voice asked, and Cogsworth rolled his eyes as he turned to discover Babette.

"Not everyone is fortunate enough to have the…the uh…" Cogsworth blushed a bright shade of red as he realized what he was about to say. As he gestured to her figure, Babette could hardly contain a smile. At last, he concluded, "The…façade, if you will, to attract him like you do. It is not as easy for the rest of us."

"Maybe not," Babette agreed. "But, really, for an educated man, you have yet to figure out that no one answers to your constantly annoying shouts. Lighten up a little!"

Cogsworth frowned. "You would not happen to know where he is to make my life easier now, would you? Of all people, I should have asked you in the first place."

Babette thought for a moment before she replied, "Last I heard, he was in the ballroom. Why?"

"Well, why couldn't you have just said that to begin with?" Cogsworth asked, frustration abundant in his words as he headed for said destination with Babette in tow.

"You did not ask until now," she said with a shrug. Cogsworth only halted to glare at her impatiently. Babette could be as infuriating as Lumière when she wanted to be; they were perfectly suited for each other, of that he was certain.

Upon reaching the ballroom, they found Lumière inside, already practicing his technique as he waited for his pupil. While Cogsworth immediately stormed his way over to him, Babette held her ground for a moment to watch this new, extremely attractive athletic side of her lover before joining him.

"What in the world do you think you are doing?" Cogsworth shouted angrily.

Removing his mask, Lumière answered breathlessly, "Warming up, of course; what does it look like?"

Babette stepped forward to spare Lumière another moment of Cogsworth's wrath. "Warming up, indeed," she said with mischievous concern. Stroking his forehead, she added, "You feel like you are running a fever."

Lumière slid his arm around her waist to draw her close. "That is not from practice, ma puce," he whispered for her ears only before placing a surprisingly chaste kiss on her cheek.

"All right, enough rubbish, both of you!" Cogsworth sighed, rolling his eyes. "This is urgent!"

"When is it not urgent with you?" Lumière asked.

Cogsworth glowered at him, ignoring the comment to continue. "What could have possessed you to offer the prince fencing lessons to begin with? And in the ballroom no less?"

"He is old enough now to learn the basics," Lumière replied. "And this is the most spacious room in the castle."

"It is the most destructive, hazardous kind of sport, you fool! He is only a boy!"

"Oui, and he is a royal! Royalty and nobility have been learning the art of fencing for years! I learned by watching my former employer, and he learned when he was the prince's age."

"Oh, that is promising!" Cogsworth scoffed. "The instructor has only learned by watching!"

Lumière stared at him indignantly. "You really believe that I would intentionally offer to teach him something I knew nothing about? Really, you know me better than that."

"Fine, you are capable of teaching him; that is all well and good! But he is a child," Cogsworth countered, trying to remain rational. "No matter how well you teach, at one point or another, he will get hurt, and then what will happen?"

"We will take care of it."

"We prevent it from even happening so as not to lose our heads for foolishness!"

Vincent entered the room moments later, ending their discussion rather abruptly. At the sight of unexpected company in the room, his face fell, especially seeing that one of them was Cogsworth.

"Lumière, what is going on?" he asked.

Before Lumière could reply, however, Cogsworth beat him to an explanation. "Your highness, if I may speak openly?" Vincent's young brow furrowed with impatience, but he nodded for Cogsworth to continue.

"Sire, I must protest this," Cogsworth insisted. "This preposterous game is far too unsafe for me to allow."

"For you to allow?" Vincent said quietly, dangerously. "Since when do I need your permission?"

Cogsworth instantly began to fumble over his own words. "Allow? Did I say allow?" he laughed nervously. "Of course, you would not have to ask me for permission, master! Not at all! I was merely trying to say…uh…that I am only looking out for your best interest."

"My best interest is what I choose to do, not what a servant chooses for me!" Vincent shouted, his temper officially lost. "Now are you going to stop meddling in affairs that don't concern you, or does time in the dungeons sound better?"

"Master, please!" Lumière interrupted hastily. There was no need for another tantrum right now, especially since this entire lesson was meant as a distraction from them. "Forgive my saying so, but if we do not begin this minute, there will not be enough time to learn at all."

Vincent gritted his teeth as he took a deep breath, all the while glaring menacingly at Cogsworth, before stomping his way towards the lane that Lumière had set up, the Frenchman himself in tow. Cogsworth, in the meantime, sat to the side, chastised and embarrassed. Scolded by a mere child, but a child that held their very lives in his hand; it was not an easy situation for any of them.

Only the realization that Babette had sat beside him brought Cogsworth out of any thoughts of his humiliation, and he frowned at her presence.

"You do know that you have your own work to attend to," he reminded her. "You should be returning to it."

"And pass up the opportunity to watch Lumière teach a child how to fence?" she asked softly. "Never in a million years! This is too good an event to decline an invitation to!"

"You were not invited," Cogsworth replied pointedly.

Babette grinned. "Neither were you, so we are even."

Returning her gaze to the lessons, she tried to lighten the mood; Cogsworth was a difficult man but even he needed cheering up sometimes.

"One week's pay says Lumière gives up hopelessly by dinner," she offered.

Cogsworth looked repulsed at the very thought. "I think not!" After another moment's consideration, he added, "One hour at most."

Babette smiled heartily. "You have a bet, monsieur."

Sure enough, an hour did pass and Cogsworth's end of the bet was a lost cause. For the rest of the afternoon, the two watched as Lumière patiently taught Vincent everything he could, taking into account that the boy was a beginner. Rules, correct posture, foot movement, and technique, the introductory lot.

Surprisingly, Vincent was quite well behaved, except for a few temperamental times when certain aspects became far too frustrating and difficult, but overall, he proved to be a very diligent student. Despite his constant spoiled mannerisms, he was a very intelligent child. That had always been one of his few positive attributes. Whenever the boy wanted to learn, truly and wholeheartedly, he focused as much as he could to get it right, and by the end of the day's lesson, Lumière and their audience were quite impressed.

"Your highness, I do not doubt that someday, you will be one of the most distinguished fencing masters of your time," Lumière said. "You have learned more in one day than most men do in months!"

Vincent glowed proudly at his praise. "I will be, I know, and someday soon!"

Lumière smiled. "Indeed, very soon at this rate; well done."

"I must agree, master," Cogsworth added as he and Babette rose to join them. "For a lad your age, that was sheer brilliance!"

Lumière and Babette shared a subtle eye roll while Vincent nodded.

"Next time, maybe you will think before going against me, won't you?"

"Oh most definitely, sire, absolutely!" Cogsworth checked his pocket watch before he added, "But right now, I am certain that even you would agree that the lessons must come to an end. It is almost time for dinner; we must not be late."

"Good because I'm starved!" Vincent announced, bolting for the door.

"And that goes for you two as well," Cogsworth said, turning to Lumière and Babette before he began to follow Vincent through the door. He only stopped when Babette called him.

"Oh Cogsworth!" she said with a smirk. "Be a gentleman, and do not forget our bet!"

Lumière glanced at her, puzzled, while Cogsworth merely exited with a frown.

"Bet?" Lumière asked.

"Oui, a bet, but do not worry yourself about it," Babette said reassuringly, walking over to the swords and picking one up to look it over curiously. Not bothering to avert her eyes from exploration of the blade, she commented, "Neither of us ever realized that you were so fast on your feet, that's all."

Lumière raised an eyebrow. "How many times have I raced to your side whenever you have called for me?"

Babette shrugged casually. "I have never actually seen you run; just turned and voila, there you were."

"I rest my case," Lumière laughed, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. "Admit it, I am simply so fast that I just appear out of thin air."

Babette leaned against him, gazing at him adoringly. "You are something magical; I will say that much for you," she replied, tilting her head invitingly for a kiss.

Lumière was all too willing to accept, but only until he realized that she still held the sword in her hand.

"Easy with that, ma chérie," he warned. "They may not be sharp, but they will certainly take out an eye without a mask on."

"You are the great fencing instructor, if I recall!" she laughed playfully. "Instruct me on what I must do to not let that happen."

Lumière smirked. "Well, first of all, your posture is absolutely appalling," he said, placing his hand in front of her slim waist and pressing her against him to make her stand straight. "Secondly, you will hardly score points if you can not even hold the sword out in front of you."

Slowly, he caressed her arm in possession of the sword until she held it out straight in front of her.

"And how do I get points again?" she asked with a sigh, obviously enjoying the attention.

"Two ways, ma petite chatte," he replied. "You may either strike your opponent here." His hand glided across shoulder, before making its seductive way to her neckline. "Or here."

Babette closed her eyes, gasping gently. "Lumière?"

"Hmm?"

"Your room again tonight?"

Lumière smiled charmingly and with promise. "Of course, we shall continue the lessons there. In the meantime, it is time for dinner."