Author's note: As some have astutely guessed, this is indeed based upon the song "Scarlet Ribbons". No, I do not own the rights to the song or to Les Mis. Also, many thanks to the kind folks who reviewed this already and who will review it (hint, hint) in the future.
"Hey, Prouvaire, finally got some fashion sense, eh?" Bahorel laughed.
"Go ahead and laugh Bahorel." Jean Prouvaire said. "You fellows haven't let up on my chosen style of dress since I first came to this city, so I thought as a Christmas present to all of you, I'd try and dress fashionably."
"When you say 'chosen style' Jehan, that would imply you had some style. But nonetheless, nice improvement my friend!" Bahorel chuckled.
Jean Prouvaire usually dressed in rather drab colors that were of a poor cut and that tended to hang on his somewhat thin frame. He had taken no small amount of razzing from all of his friends because of this. Bahorel in particular had offered more than once to "help" him out. However, on this particular day, Christmas Eve, he had on a silken scarlet waistcoat, that was actually quite fashionable.
Courfeyrac grinned. "I'm waiting for the horsemen of the Apocalypse to show up."
"Very humorous." Jehan said, trying not to show his amusement.
"A fine Christmas present!" Feuilly said, laughing.
"A pleasant change." Combeferre said, kindly.
"You have the money, why the devil don't you dress like this more often?" Laigle asked.
"Maybe Jehan can think of better things to spend his money on the fool-hardy waistcoats, women, alcohol, and theater." Enjolras said, breaking into the conversation.
"What the devil else is there to spend money on?" Joly asked.
"Waistcoats I can do without.... alcohol and women, now there's a different story." Grantaire said, with a smile.
Enjolras sighed and rubbed his temples. "I'm not going to get a serious political discussion out of you tonight, am I?"
"Not a chance!" Courfeyrac said, grinning. Enjolras returned the smile and shook his head.
"Then let us disperse for tonight." Enjolras said. "I will see all of you in two days. Enjoy tomorrow. Have a Merry Christmas, my friends."
"Merry Christmas, Enjolras." The others chorused.
"And Jehan..." Enjolras added with a slight smile, "nice change of fashion."
The others laughed while Jehan merely smiled at the floor.
Fifteen minutes later, they had all gone their separate ways. Jean Prouvaire was staring at the sky as large flakes of snow came silently down. Passing by a house he heard a few words spoken piously by a little girl through a window that was open just a crack:
"I want Maman to smile and laugh like she used to. And for me, some scarlet ribbons for my hair. Amen."
He stopped and smiled for a moment. The girl had evidently climbed into bed and blew out her candle secure that the Almighty had heard her prayer. Jean was about to continue on his way when another sound struck his ear.
A woman was crying. The child's mother evidently. Cautiously, he peered into the window and watched a woman slump against the doorframe sobbing softly. Her figure was lit up from behind, casting a soft glow about her features.
"God," she whispered, "I barely have money for food and for rent. Oh, we get along fine, but Father you know that I have no money for ribbons. Even if I did, Lord, there aren't any stores open at this hour. Please, Heavenly Father, may her pain not be too great when in the morning she finds..." The woman broke off, finishing her prayer silently.
Jehan took a step backwards, tears going down his own cheeks. He wished fervently that there were a store open somewhere. He'd buy the girl ribbons himself, and leave them on the family's doorstep.
Bitterly, he jammed his hands into the pocket of his overcoat. The left pocket had a hole in it and his hand ended up brushing against the silken fabric of his waistcoat.
His eyes widened for a moment, and then a smile spread across his face. Making a mental note of the address of this sad family, he sprinted home.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The next morning Estelle Sorrell went into her daughter Jacqueline's bedroom. She intended to wake her up for their Christmas morning breakfast, but she froze in disbelief in the doorway.
Lying upon the little girl's windowsill were beautiful scarlet ribbons. Jacqueline, had evidently been up for a few minutes. Her legs were swung over the side of the bed and she was staring at the ribbons with a look of rapture on her little face.
"Maman! Look! Ribbons, scarlet ribbons, for my hair!" She cried, picking them up and rubbing them against her cheek.
Estelle laughed. "I see them, darling, I see them."
"Aren't they beautiful! Do you think they are a present from the Christmas Fairy, or do you think they are a gift from God?" Jacqueline asked.
"I don't know, my darling. I don't know." Estelle laughed holding her daughter tightly. Estelle thanked God from the bottom of her heart for whatever method He employed in granting her daughter's simple Christmas wish.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Ha! Back to grey, ill-fitting waistcoats."
"I knew it wouldn't last." Bahorel said, laughing.
"Poor fashionless Jehan." Courfeyrac said chuckling, as he patted the poet on the back.
"Yes, well, I wouldn't want to become, predictable." Jehan said, blushing.
"Some things will never change I suppose." Courfeyrac said, rolling his eyes.
It is said, that the greatest deeds done in this life are often the ones that go unspoken.
"Hey, Prouvaire, finally got some fashion sense, eh?" Bahorel laughed.
"Go ahead and laugh Bahorel." Jean Prouvaire said. "You fellows haven't let up on my chosen style of dress since I first came to this city, so I thought as a Christmas present to all of you, I'd try and dress fashionably."
"When you say 'chosen style' Jehan, that would imply you had some style. But nonetheless, nice improvement my friend!" Bahorel chuckled.
Jean Prouvaire usually dressed in rather drab colors that were of a poor cut and that tended to hang on his somewhat thin frame. He had taken no small amount of razzing from all of his friends because of this. Bahorel in particular had offered more than once to "help" him out. However, on this particular day, Christmas Eve, he had on a silken scarlet waistcoat, that was actually quite fashionable.
Courfeyrac grinned. "I'm waiting for the horsemen of the Apocalypse to show up."
"Very humorous." Jehan said, trying not to show his amusement.
"A fine Christmas present!" Feuilly said, laughing.
"A pleasant change." Combeferre said, kindly.
"You have the money, why the devil don't you dress like this more often?" Laigle asked.
"Maybe Jehan can think of better things to spend his money on the fool-hardy waistcoats, women, alcohol, and theater." Enjolras said, breaking into the conversation.
"What the devil else is there to spend money on?" Joly asked.
"Waistcoats I can do without.... alcohol and women, now there's a different story." Grantaire said, with a smile.
Enjolras sighed and rubbed his temples. "I'm not going to get a serious political discussion out of you tonight, am I?"
"Not a chance!" Courfeyrac said, grinning. Enjolras returned the smile and shook his head.
"Then let us disperse for tonight." Enjolras said. "I will see all of you in two days. Enjoy tomorrow. Have a Merry Christmas, my friends."
"Merry Christmas, Enjolras." The others chorused.
"And Jehan..." Enjolras added with a slight smile, "nice change of fashion."
The others laughed while Jehan merely smiled at the floor.
Fifteen minutes later, they had all gone their separate ways. Jean Prouvaire was staring at the sky as large flakes of snow came silently down. Passing by a house he heard a few words spoken piously by a little girl through a window that was open just a crack:
"I want Maman to smile and laugh like she used to. And for me, some scarlet ribbons for my hair. Amen."
He stopped and smiled for a moment. The girl had evidently climbed into bed and blew out her candle secure that the Almighty had heard her prayer. Jean was about to continue on his way when another sound struck his ear.
A woman was crying. The child's mother evidently. Cautiously, he peered into the window and watched a woman slump against the doorframe sobbing softly. Her figure was lit up from behind, casting a soft glow about her features.
"God," she whispered, "I barely have money for food and for rent. Oh, we get along fine, but Father you know that I have no money for ribbons. Even if I did, Lord, there aren't any stores open at this hour. Please, Heavenly Father, may her pain not be too great when in the morning she finds..." The woman broke off, finishing her prayer silently.
Jehan took a step backwards, tears going down his own cheeks. He wished fervently that there were a store open somewhere. He'd buy the girl ribbons himself, and leave them on the family's doorstep.
Bitterly, he jammed his hands into the pocket of his overcoat. The left pocket had a hole in it and his hand ended up brushing against the silken fabric of his waistcoat.
His eyes widened for a moment, and then a smile spread across his face. Making a mental note of the address of this sad family, he sprinted home.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The next morning Estelle Sorrell went into her daughter Jacqueline's bedroom. She intended to wake her up for their Christmas morning breakfast, but she froze in disbelief in the doorway.
Lying upon the little girl's windowsill were beautiful scarlet ribbons. Jacqueline, had evidently been up for a few minutes. Her legs were swung over the side of the bed and she was staring at the ribbons with a look of rapture on her little face.
"Maman! Look! Ribbons, scarlet ribbons, for my hair!" She cried, picking them up and rubbing them against her cheek.
Estelle laughed. "I see them, darling, I see them."
"Aren't they beautiful! Do you think they are a present from the Christmas Fairy, or do you think they are a gift from God?" Jacqueline asked.
"I don't know, my darling. I don't know." Estelle laughed holding her daughter tightly. Estelle thanked God from the bottom of her heart for whatever method He employed in granting her daughter's simple Christmas wish.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Ha! Back to grey, ill-fitting waistcoats."
"I knew it wouldn't last." Bahorel said, laughing.
"Poor fashionless Jehan." Courfeyrac said chuckling, as he patted the poet on the back.
"Yes, well, I wouldn't want to become, predictable." Jehan said, blushing.
"Some things will never change I suppose." Courfeyrac said, rolling his eyes.
It is said, that the greatest deeds done in this life are often the ones that go unspoken.