A/N: I don't claim perfect accuracy, so I'm going to have to ask you to suspend your superior knowledge of Les Mis to enjoy this story. :D
(Especially in the case of Javert… That #$%^&* difficult #$%^…)
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My eyes were so swollen with tears, I could barely see as I climbed over the railing. As my hands grasped it, I realised that my feeble grip was all that stood between me and…
And what?
Death?
Peace?
Certainly, there wasn't a thing worth living for then. He was in love with her. He'd never see me… Not the way I needed him to.
I gave a bitter, sharp bark of laughter and the misty lights in the river mocked me.
"The river's just a river…" I murmured softly and let go…
I walked the path near St. Mitchel Bridge. For once I was simply stretching my legs, but that secluded area is known as a haven for the thieves, whores and other criminals. If even that frosty night could not prevent people from seeking their vices, I would be there to uphold the law.
The Seine was dark as ink beneath the moonlight. The few lanterns burning cast their glow across the water, its movements pulling and distorting them. The water was black save for a small white shape floating near the edge, standing out starkly in contrast.
I frowned. That shape looked oddly like a…
Realisation hit me and I ran forwards, reaching down into the water and scooping the girl from it. The icy chill of it was almost painful and I held little hope for the unfortunate soul's survival. Turning her over, my eyes focused on her pale face and I blinked.
It strikes me that I know that girl…
I shook it off, searching for some sign that she was alive. For all I knew, I held a corpse in my arms. I placed my lips close to her mouth, knowing the sensitive skin there would detect even the softest of breaths. There was nothing at first, but then I felt a tiny puff of air escape from her lips.
Relieved, I was about to move away when suddenly she moved her head slightly, and that small movement connected her lips with mine. They were chill as cold winter yet I felt a rush of heat upon my cheeks…
"Marius…" She whispered.
Startled and blinking, I pulled away and searched her face for a sign of consciousness but her eyes remained closed and her lips were the blue of bruises. Fortunately, it seemed that there was no water in her lungs but still she was in danger…
I knew that she would surely die if I did not make haste and take her somewhere warm. My first thought was a hospital but I quickly dismissed the idea. The last time I saw the inside of a hospital, the overcrowded rooms reeked of blood and death and the howling patients were covered by the thinnest of blankets. The girl was so at risk of pneumonia, sending her there would surely be like sending her to her death.
I did not waste anymore time thinking. My home was not far and though I hadn't much more than I needed to take care of myself, it was warm and dry.
What an unheard of move for me… But looking upon the girl's white face and cradling her helpless body, I felt as if God himself would strike me down for permitting her to suffer further.
Standing up with her slight weight in my arms, I moved hurriedly back home. The little burden in my arms stirred slightly but did not wake. I wondered again who she was… I knew that I had seen her face somewhere before…
And I hoped she deserved to survive…
I felt myself waking, but could not for the life of me open my eyes. They felt so heavy and my limbs were the same, completely leaden and unmovable. I wondered just what had happened to me…
And then I remembered climbing over the railing and… Letting go.
But still, I lived. That much was certain. Oh god, was I really so pathetic that I couldn't even kill myself right? I groaned, half out of shame and half out of the pain that became clearer with every waking moment.
"Are you awake, girl?"
I stiffened at the sound of that voice. Not only because it was so close to me but because of how it sounded to my ears… It seemed that that voice's natural quality could have been soft and almost lilting, yet it carried a diamond-hard edge and a tone like a frigid lake beneath a winter's sky…
I couldn't suppress a sudden bout of raspy giggling; had my failed suicide really turned me into a bleeding-heart poet?
"I take it that if you're laughing, you surely must be conscious." The voice spoke again sounding soft, clipped and… Unimpressed. I couldn't help feeling oddly bad. Somehow, I did not want to make my mysterious voice angry.
As more awareness crept into my body I tried once more to lift my heavy eyelids. This time I succeeded as they parted a fraction, and I was greeted by the warm orange glow of a flickering fire. My vision still hazy, I could make out a figure standing over me, tall and imposing, like an avenging angel in the night...
I had to struggle not to laugh once more at my wild thoughts. Should I not have been terrified? Awakening God knows where, with God knows who standing over me. Really, had it happened Before, then yes. Surely, I would have forced myself to find the energy to scream and kick and demand to know what was going on… But not after. No. My death, my sanctuary had been denied. I simply did not care anymore.
"Can you sit up?" The angel asked. I hadn't the ability to speak just then, so shook my head the slightest amount. The angel sighed deeply. "Very well…" He (for it was no woman's voice) said resignedly and all of a sudden two rough but warm hands gripped me by the shoulders and hauled me upright, leaning me back against what I could only assume was a mound of pillows. I was in a bed… Then, I noticed my body, though weak and sore, was incredibly stiff, hence why I did not immediately flop right back down again when he propped me against those pillows.
Posable… I thought giddily.
"M… M'sieur…" I rasped, watching the blurred shape from between my lashes "You're… Not an angel, are you?" I found myself asking him and I heard the softest sound of surprised laughter before he composed himself back into whatever shell that laughter had brought him out of for that brief, heaven-sent second.
"No… Mademoiselle. No. Far from it." He replied smoothly.
"And I ain't… And I'm not dead?" I said forcing aside the streetwise drawl I was so accustomed to.
"Also, far from it." His response sounded oddly gentle and I wondered once more just what, or rather who he was.
I was suddenly thirsty and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth a little. I wondered if it was my condition or his company that caused it.
"Is... Is there any water, m'sieur? If it's yer… Your intention to help, it would… Help." I stumbled through the sentence, finishing it lamely and sighed inwardly at my blunder.
"I dare say you've probably had enough water.' He sounded amused "But you'll need some tea, mademoiselle, you've been in some cold conditions." I winced.
"The river… She wouldn't take me…" I murmured.
"Hm?" I could hear him a short distance away, moving something around. China, by the sound of it. Probably for the tea.
"I just didn't want… Any of this anymore." I heard myself whisper though I hadn't meant to share it. Silence followed my confession and I felt a certain tension rise in the air…
"Do you mean to say,' the man said so suddenly that I jumped "That you tried to kill yourself?" His voice was almost dead calm, but I could hear something beneath it that made me uneasy.
"That's… That's right." I answered, trying to keep my voice from trembling.
"Well. It seems I did you a disservice when I pulled you from the river." He said icily, once more occupied with the tea tray, but this time his movements sounded harsh and angry, the china rattling loudly.
"A-are you angry, m'sieur? With me?" I asked in a small voice, wondering what I'd done to make him that way…
Though the chill of outside had long since disappeared from my bones while I waited at the girl's bedside, her sudden confession made me feel colder than I could ever remember feeling.
Certainly, that pale scamp of a girl was not a particularly lively looking creature, yet I would never have suspected she would have tried to do something so… So stupid, unholy. Just looking at her face, I would have expected she was stronger than that.
"Are you angry, m'sieur?' she asked "with me?" And she sounded so lost. I sighed inwardly and composed myself.
"No, mademoiselle. Perhaps you should be angry with me? If I hadn't been patrolling where I was, you would have gotten your wish." I said, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. Angry with her, I was not. Merely disappointed. And why? I did not know.
"Patrolling? You're a policeman?" Her voice held a distant edge of fear and I wondered why.
"If you believe you have committed some crime in your failed attempt on your life, rest assured mademoiselle, it is God's laws that exist against it, not mine." I said stonily. She fidgeted nervously.
"No… No, sir. Just most of my life I've been on the wrong side of the law.' She said and I stiffened. She must have sensed it because she smiled and added "An' I honestly don't mind telling you, m'sieur. I don't think my life is about to get any worse anytime soon."
I sat in silence, merely listening to her breathing. It hitched as I stood up abruptly and advanced on her, my hands reaching out as if by their own accord and grasping her shoulders.
"Any worse? Any worse, you foolish little girl?' I thundered "Have you ever been in prison? Have you any idea what would happen to you there?" her mouth fell open in shock but she did not utter a sound, evidently too petrified to do so.
"I pulled you from that river hoping to god you deserved to be saved. Don't make my efforts for naught by telling me you're some thief or scoundrel.' She whimpered as my grip apparently became painful and I let go. All but flinging myself back down in my chair, I put my head in my hands "Tell me nothing, girl. Nothing at all. I cannot charge you for a crime unknown, so speak nothing of it in my presence."
"… Why do you care so much?" She asked in a small voice. I almost denied that I did indeed care, yet I knew it was not so… And something of the way she spoke demanded truth.
"… Because I need to believe there are people in this world worth saving." I said after a moment.
She was quiet for a moment and I gazed into the glow of the fire. I jumped when her hand suddenly covered mine and I turned to face her. The girl smiled softly, her eyes on mine.
"I'd like to believe that too, m'sieur.' She said, the focus returning to her eyes. She frowned a little before I could reply and her eyes searched my face. A small gasp issued from her lips and her hand was abruptly withdrawn from mine and she moved back, pressing against the headboard.
"Inspector… Javert?"
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à suivre...
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I'm not really channelling Hugo here as much as I'm channelling the slightly more idealised (and slightly less realistic) musical versions of the characters.
I know Javert seems particularly OOC, but hey, there have been times in my life when I've had the urge to do something completely unlike me. And I have to admit, I like the idea of Javert having the smallest, hidden sense of humour that only touches the surface on occasion. Let's just see where it goes, shall we? :D
And as for Eponine, well Hugo himself shows that she's no idiot, so I thiiiiink (maybe) I'm writing her ok? Girl's got spunk, so I'm going for that.
That's why I like them as a pairing (not necessarily a romantic one.) Eponine was like ten steps ahead in terms of feminism for her time and Javert is all about obeying the rules. Eponine breaks like ALL of them, so that's why it's good for drama, no? :D
All in all, I just hope you will give it a shot! (No pun intended 'ponine, dear…)