Once again, I do not own any of Victor Hugo's marvelous characters. I only borrow them for various purposes. The third AU fic...these never seem to end. Again, spun off a single question...
Frost In the Morning
1824
If it hadn't been for a half-open door, Cosette would not have survived that night.
The sun had barely begun to rise when at last, the little girl ventured out of the kitchen where she'd secretly taken refuge in. Soot still covered her face as she looked around the street, hoping to catch sight of a familiar face.
"Papa? Papa!" she called, cupping her small hands to her mouth. She walked alongside a wall, hoping to see footprints in the snow.
"Papa? Where did you go?" she asked aloud. She had at last arrived at the spot where she'd last heard his voice, telling her to flee. She saw no sign of the police around, no sign that a chase had happened in the neighborhood the night before.
Cosette struggled not to cry as she leaned against the wall, scuffing her shoes together for warmth. "Is the Thenardiess coming to get me?" she wondered aloud as the bells began to ring from within the convent at Picpus. The little girl shivered in the cold wind as she continued walking, searching the faces of passers-by.
She at last saw a man wearing tattered clothes, smoking from a pipe. Cosette gingerly walked up to him, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the tobacco.
"G' morning M'sieur. Have you seen a big man here? He had white hair, and he wore a yellow coat, I think," she asked.
"Well, no, little girl. Why do you ask? Is he your grandfather?" the stranger asked.
Cosette shook her head. "He said he'd be back."
"Why, I'm sure he's on his way. Now why don't you find your mother?" the stranger said gruffly as he ran his hands through his matted hair.
Cosette sighed. "My mother is dead."
"Brujon, where did you get that mome?" another man called from across the street.
Brujon looked perplexedly at his companion, then at Cosette. "She must be from around here, Babet," he said. "What's your name, petite?" he asked the child.
"Cosette."
"Is that all there is?"
"That's what people call me...sometimes," Cosette said, wringing her hands. "Can you help me, M'sieur?"
Babet smiled at her. "Someone's daughter?" he asked Brujon.
Brujon shook his head. "I don't know, really. She's looking for some man."
"Is she now?" Babet said, looking at the little girl. "She looks quite tired..."
Brujon shrugged. "What can we do?"
"You think Magnon..." Babet wondered.
"Who's Magnon?" Cosette asked, wide-eyed.
Babet sighed. "Someone who can help. Come along...Cosette, is that right?"
The child nodded as she trustingly took Babet's hand and followed him down the road.