Lumiere's Death

The room was dim now. It had been growing ever dimmer since that first night when he set fire to the bed in his sleep. Confused, frightened, he had run out into the hall and tried to smother the flames on his hands, only to find the flames were his hands. Skin, bone, and muscle had disappeared; the dancing flames had replaced them. He turned to the mirror in the hall, and saw, with horror, the fire in place of his hair.

His flames were dark now. At the beginning they were yellow, pale orange, and glowing white, but now deep blood red. At first, he hadn't noticed the change. There had been a kind of exhilaration, a freedom, in losing his humanity. But all candles melt. When Babette first noticed the drips on his wax wrists, he brushed it off. Soon wax was gathering in the hollow of his collar bone, and dripping down his back like sweat on a warm day. Everyone noticed it, except maybe Chip. And when Jean Claude faded into the brick wall behind the stove, Lumiere was certain of his own future.

Babette was beside him now. She couldn't move her arms anymore, but she could at least lean into his shoulder, what was left of it. He gave a pathetic sneeze as her feathers tickled at his nose.

"Careful, ma chèrie," he said, "You'll catch fire." Babette gave a sigh.

"I'll burn then," she said. She no longer had the energy to work herself up into hysterics.

Mrs. Potts hobbled down the hall to the Master's room.

"Come on Chip, dear," she said, "the Master will be cross if he doesn't get his tea." Chip, trying to hop along behind her, grumbled under his breath. He clinked against his mother, who had stopped suddenly.

"What did you say?" she asked. Chip looked down at the floor.

"Chip?" she said, stern.

"We should be with Monsieur Lumiere!" he burst out, "Who cares if the Beast doesn't get his tea!?"

"Chip! We do not refer to the master as a… as a beast! And Monsieur Lumiere will be fine, he's just caught a cold," Mrs. Potts lied.

Chip mumbled an insincere 'sorry'. Mrs. Potts took him by the handle and poured him some tea.

"Take that to the Master, then go to the kitchen. I'll go check on Lumiere." Chip nodded, somehow managing not to spill on the carpet, and made his way back down the hall.

Mrs. Potts turned and headed to Lumiere's room. Walking was growing increasingly difficult as the days went on. And Chip… she worried he would fall from the cupboard, or trip on the stairs, and that would be the last of him. He took too many risks, too many falls for a boy made of porcelain.

When Mrs. Potts came to Lumiere's door, she found her brother, Cogsworth, already there. He stood stiffly against the wall.

"Hello Eugenia," he said, as she approached. He turned his face to her as much as he could, but had to shuffle around to see her fully. She made her slow way over to him.

"Hello James. How is he?" Cogsworth's eyes flicked back in the direction of Lumiere's room.

"He's burned down to a low red, last time I checked," he said.

"Babette?"

"She's liable to set herself aflame the moment he burns out. The liveliness has gone from her," he replied. Mrs. Potts glanced sadly to the door.

"If I could move my arms, I'd do my best to comfort her," she said.

"For God's sake, just don't offer her a cup of tea," Cogsworth remarked. Tears—golden brown ones—filled Mrs. Pott's eyes. Immediately, Cogsworth tried to backtrack.

"I'm sorry Genie, I didn't mean—"

"No, no. It's fine James." Unable to wipe the tears away, they slid down her porcelain face.

"Oh darling!" Madame de la Grande Bouche said, as she made her way sideways through the hall, "Don't tell me he's—"

"Not yet, Madame," Cogsworth said. Just as he spoke, a high pitched wail came from the room. The three servants in the hallway stared at the door, none willing to look inside and confirm that Lumiere was—

With a yell, Lumiere jerked awake. He could feel the wax dripping down his back and chest, and it was so hot—he must be burning out.

"Lumiere! Lumiere!" Babette called. He felt a cool breeze sweep over him, and became aware of his surroundings. Babette, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, and Chip were standing over him. For a moment, he stared around at them, dumbfounded. He looked down at his hands, normal human hands.

"Are you alright Lumiere?" Babette said, stroking his hair. He threw his arms around her, and pulled her ungracefully into his chest.

"Let's give them some space. Lumiere will be fine," Mrs. Potts whispered. She took Chip's hand and led the group out of the room.

"What's wrong?" Babette asked. She frowned, as Lumiere started to laugh. She pushed herself away from him.

"You are toying with me!"

"No, my little fluff," Lumiere said, still chuckling, "I am just happy."

"Fine then, do not tell me what is wrong!" Babette huffed, and stalked out of the room.

"Tomorrow then, ma chèrie!" he called. She pulled the door closed. Lumiere ran his hands through his normal human hair.

"Just a dream," he told himself aloud, as he lay down and went back to sleep. He had nothing to worry about. He was human now.