Gen Fill For DisneyKink - "An Odd Little Family"
Various/Any Disney or Pixar Fandoms
Any/Any
A canon couple (your choice) has their happily ever after, and after about fifteen to thirty years together, the male of the couple dies (details of his death is up to you), leaving the female a mourning widow who now has to live life without him. After a couple of years of widowhood, the adult children of the couple start to gently prod the female of the couple to try to find love again. If she does, and whoever it is, is up to you.
They plucked him right off the street.
In one moment, he was just another orphan, in the next, he was the possible-newest member of the family before him. It was like a dream - the sort of dream he stopped believing in long ago.
"Oh my stars in heaven, look at the poor dear, he's starved to the bone!" He was enveloped in the crisp white apron of the soft, sweet-smelling, stout, older woman. He struggled in discomfort at the strange, new sensation of being touched in a way that wasn't a smack or slap, and his shame at getting his street-grime on her fancy clothes.
She just pressed him harder to her in response, and he stopped moving, letting himself enjoy what might be his only, and perhaps last, hug.
"We must take him with us." She said to her male companions with an air of sensible authority.
"But of course," the taller, thinner man echoed in a friendly, yet highly affected voice. He smiled at the boy with wide, white teeth. "I am sure the master and mistress would not mind; it is, after all, the right thing to do."
"Now wait just a minute, wait just a minute." Interrupted a portly, mustached fellow across from the speaker. "It isn't our duty to go around spreading charity and picking up unfortunates wherever we go. that's not what we are here for."
The boy managed to get loose of the woman's hold, and stared up at the man's face, stamping a brave, impudent little foot.
"I am not charity! And I am not unfortunate, whatever that is!"
Eyebrows were raised down at him, though the thinner man wore an expression of amusement as well as surprise.
"Of course not, dear, now shuush." And WHOOSH he was swept back into the kind woman's flowery folds once more.
"Cogsworth, now, have a heart." The taller man said coaxingly with an arm around his hefty companion's shoulders."Surely it is not impossible for your pity and kindness to reach just one child? And think of how disappointed the master and mistress will be if we do not uphold their value of not being deceived by appearances."
Cogsworth raised his eyebrows as if the other man had said something loaded, while the other pair exchanged a wink.
"I won't hear of leaving him." The woman said as firmly as her grip on his hand.
Cogsworth looked as if he were going to argue, but softened and quieted with a grumbling, "Well it's on your head if the master doesn't approve, Lumiere."
The taller man came down on his haunches in front of the younger boy. He faced him like a man, and his easy respect relaxed the boy, who took his hand when offered and answered when asked his name.
"Aladdin."
"Well Aladdin, how would you like to come live far away from here, with us, in a great big castle?"
He could manage no words; the open disbelief, gratitude and wonderment on his smudged, six year old face was too much for the sensitive Mrs. Potts to handle. She snuffed into her handkerchief, and discouraged more questions.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For the first time, he had real clothing. Made for him. That fit him. That belonged to him.
It was uncomfortable at first, in little formal breeches and structured shirts with buttons and loops and all manners of ornamentation, but he stopped fussing with it when Mrs. Pott's smiled and said he looked like a real gentleman. He promised to see her smile he'd try not to tug his collar so much, or slip out of his shoes as often (even if barefoot felt more natural to him).
Mrs. Potts became as close to a mother as he ever remembered having. It was unusual at first, to answer her questions about whether he was hungry or cold or tired - why would his happiness and comfort matter to her? But relaxing into her care felt like coming home to a warm bed.
He never disobeyed her again when she rushed out after him on that late night when he had left to explore the village below and she scolded him for his bleeding knees and scraped elbows and cuts on his face with real tears of concern in her eyes.
Lumiere became like a father, or a friendly uncle. Aladdin liked the man's casual air and harmless affectations. He liked the way he talked and walked, and even tried to copy it in his prepubescent, Arabic-manner, which produced great comedy around the castle.
Lumiere was not as smothering as Mrs. Potts, but then again, he saw things. He understood things.
When he found a little Aladdin sulking with his arms crossed across his chest in a corner, a mixture of hurt and anger in his dark eyes, he knew. He nodded towards the fireplace where Mrs. Potts sat with her other children, reading to them stories.
"You know my boy, the only reason you are alone right now is because you chose to be."
Aladdin looked up at him, passionate as always.
"What does it matter? I'll never be like them. I'm not really her kid anyway."
Lumiere shrugged, stretching with a yawn, rising to leave.
"Well, you should tell her that, because she certainly doesn't know the difference."
Aladdin stared after Lumiere as he left the room without a backward glance, and finally found the motivation to move from his cushion to join the family.
When he was older, too, Lumiere was there for advice, especially when it came to his first funny feelings about the other maids and servant girls.
Aladdin hid his reddened face when Mrs. Potts walked into his chambers and found a highly enthusiastic and wildly gesticulating Lumiere perched on his bed. She guessed the nature of the conversation instantly by the mischievous and romantic glint in the butler's eye.
She waggled her spoon at him.
"Now don't you go filling his head with all that nonsense, or he'll be just as bad as you!"
Lumiere called after her jollily as she left with her armful of laundry.
"That's what I am counting on!"
Cogsworth, however, took some time. Aladdin didn't resent Cogsworth for not wanting him at first; it was understandable to be resistant to the idea of bringing a street-rat like him into his private family. He made it a rule to avoid him; it usually was the best way to deal with people who didn't like you. And he didn't want to arouse Cogsworth's ire any more, or the delicate-blessing that gave him his home might be whisked away.
And then, around his eighth birthday, Mrs. Potts and Lumiere had to leave with the King and Queen of the castle on a trip, and Aladdin could not go this time, no matter how much he begged and pleaded. So he had to stay with Cogsworth in their now-empty-looking servants quarters.
The older man huffed sarcastically when he saw Aladdin's face take a sharp downturn when watching Potts and Lumiere round the last bend on the road.
"Gee, I should be flattered that my babysitting is being received like an execution."
"I don't need to be babysat! I'm not a kid." He snapped before he could help himself. He instantly regretted it, but was too stubborn to back down. Cogsworth merely ruffled the papers he was regarding in his chair and said in a clipped fashion.
"No, I suppose not. Now why don't you go read quietly?"
He went to his own reading without further regards to the younger occupant in the room. He only looked up when after several minutes of silence, he heard the tell-tale creak of the front door being opened, no doubt heralding Aladdin's disappearance to occupy himself outside.Cogsworth rolled his eyes in a self-suffering manner and called out.
"Not the right sort of day for outside play, come back indoors like I said and read. A much more respectable pastime for a youth, anyway than outdoor gamboling." He muttered righteously to himself. An impatient second passed, and he heard the footsteps of Aladdin's return. More silence, without the rustle of a book being brought down from the library shelves and opened. He set his paper aside to see Aladdin looking antsy and dissatisfied. No book in hand.
"Well, where's your book? Does my word mean nothing around here? Go read."
Aladdin turned up dark and stormy eyes, and mumbled something.
"What?" Cogsworth asked in exasperation.
"I can't read, okay!"
Cogsworth stared at the red-eared youth in front of him with the defensive tension in his body and the twist of his mouth.
"Can't read? Can't read? You can't read...of all the imbecilic, moronic, thick headed, addle-brained, absent minded! - "
That's when he stopped his rant and noticed how flushed Aladdin was becoming, how he clenched his fists in the way he did when he was being attacked in some way. The shine of shame in his eyes and hurt in the tight pressure of his withdrawn lip.
"Oh come now, I didn't mean you!'
Aladdin was shocked.
"What?"
"Of course I didn't mean you. I meant the other two - I can't believe no one set aside the time to teach you to read. Lumiere I am not very surprised at, he's hardly a distinguished reader, and I suppose Mrs. Potts is more interested in cuddles than education."
He looked at Aladdin again, this time with a little more softness.
"That settles it - I'll teach you."
And he did. With immeasurable patience and unexpected dedication, he taught a young, uneducated boy how to read in a language not his own.
And when Aladdin found a girl who loved him like he had learned to love, he hugged all three of them on his wedding day: Mrs. Potts, Lumiere and Cogsworth - the family who was his fondest wish to have ever come true.