A/N Hi. Reese here. Eppy Liz is literally just about to leave for a school trip, which will be two weeks long, so she would like me to inform you there will be no more updates of her stories for another two weeks. You're stuck with me. :D
Now, I've just realised how freaking few Marius/Cosette stories there are, which is stupid, because they're the only canon couple... :P So, I decided to write this one. Reviews really appreciated, because I am not in a good mood (GCSEs mess up your brain.). It's not my best, but I promise it will get better when all the tests are done.
I really like Cosette, and thinks she gets way too much hate just because she gets the guy. I realised most people like Éponine better because she actually goes down to the barricade, so... (I bet you can tell where this is going... :P)
"Let me go to him." seethes Cosette, rereading the letter once more.
"Cosette," her father argues, "there's nothing you'd be able to do. He's going to die Cosette, even if you are there!"
"No!" Cosette shrieks, tears spilling down her face, "No!"
"I don't want to be blunt, I don't want it to be like this, but there's nothing you'd be able to do."
"Don't... talk to me like that."
"I am your father-"
"No! No you're not! You cannot and will not tell me what to do! I am going to save him, or goddam die trying!"
"Don't use language like that in my - "
"Ta guele! I'll use whatever putain de language I like, I'll thank you!"
"Cosette, I love you, but you are really trying my patience..."
"Then let me go to him!"
"No. The answer will always be no, I don't want to lose you, Cosette."
Cosette pulls back a strand of hair that has fallen across her face.
"I see," she says, "we will not come to a satisfying agreement."
Her father glares at her and she returns the gaze. She straightens up and whips round, being careful not to let the tears show. Not looking back, she walks out of the room, slamming the door behind her. It was stupid, she thinks, to ask. Of course he would refuse. He doesn't want to let her go. Well, she'll show him that she was her own person. He doesn't have to conceal the world from her, for eight years she'd lived as a slave, she knows what hardship is. She walks into her room and unties the ribbons at the back of her dress. Come one Cosette, she thinks, you're smarter than this. She lies back on her bed, opening her mind to herself like the pages of a forgotten book.
My name is Cosette Fauchelevent, she thinks to herself.
I am 18 years old.
I used to live at the Rue de Plumet.
We are residing at the Rue de l'Homme Arme. From here, my father will arrange our passage to England.
He is afraid. And I don't know why.
I love Marius Pontmercy.
Marius Pontmercy will die tonight.
Each thought echoes in her head, every one louder than the last.
Marius Pontmercy will die tonight.
Marius Pontmercy will die tonight.
Marius Pontmercy will die tonight.
"Stop." she whimpers, her hands growing cold and clammy. She grips onto her bed sheets with that of a dead man, and, pulling down her dress, she focuses on a small spot on the wall.
"That's right," she smiles, "focus on what's real."
Marius Pontmercy will die tonight.
The untold horror story replays in her mind, Marius lying in a pool of his own blood, a lonely French flag flutters in the breeze. She slaps herself in an attempt to chase the image from her mind. Standing up and rifling through her dresses, she finally picks a simple brown one and slips it over her head. She gently eases open the window.
"You must be mad, Cosette," she mutters to herself, gathering the sheets from her bed, "well and truly mad."
Weaving the sheets through the window-frame, she ties a knot, checking it's thoroughly secure.
"Now or never," she whispers, pushing her feet into some plain shoes. Grabbing the bed sheets with both hands and cursing her own stupidity, she slowly slides down the sheets as they slip effortlessly through her fingers. She knows it is a bad idea even before she realises the sheets have as much chance of reaching the ground as a snowflake's in Hell. She can come to know sane conclusion, her only thought being jump.
"That," she says, "is your conclusion."
Bracing her whole body, she allows herself to let go. And then, for a brief moment, she's free-falling, weightless. Suddenly, the ground reaches her feat with a loud thud, resounding for a few seconds before an eerie silence becomes reestablished.
"Go." Cosette says.
Or Marius Pontmercy will die tonight.