Author's Note: Hello! I had this idea for a story about stock characters from various musicals meeting each other...aaaand this is what happened.
The start is slow, but the next few chapters will get the ball rolling and we'll be meeting more characters and maybe a hint of plot. It was meant to be a lot more lighthearted and humorous than this chapter turned out. Nancy will that care of that in future chapters, I'm sure. ;)
Speaking of which - DISCLAIMER: Fantine belongs to Victor Hugo, Nancy belongs to Charles Dickens, Lucy belongs to the librettist of Jekyll & Hyde: The Musical, and Aldonza belongs to Miguel de Cervantes. The unnamed molls belong to themselves. Also, various lines from the musical Les Misérables are incorporated into the story. No copyright infringement intended.
Rated T for streetwalkers with low necklines.
It all starts with Fantine getting lost, walking in the alleyways...
Fantine saw that the light was coming from an electrical sign on the wall of a dodgy-looking building. The light bulbs were flickering and fading, and they seemed to form letters, words. She sighed. Damn illiteracy! That was what had gotten her sacked in the first place.
Beneath the flickering sign, a group of women stood, chatting. Many of them were scantily clad, and they all were shivering under shabby-looking shawls. Fantine shyly walked up to the group, trying to hear what they were talking about. She heard a chuckle, and looked around to see a woman of about twenty-five standing in the dim light of the sign. Her hair was a messy mane of brown, her boots and stockings were awfully muddy, and her red dress was cut so low that Fantine turned her eyes away at the indecency. The woman was speaking in a thick cockney accent to another young woman who stood in the shadows. Fantine couldn't see her face, but a soft voice laughed and said something back.
Suddenly, the woman in red turned around and caught sight of Fantine.
"And 'oo 'ave we 'ere?" she called to Fantine. Her eyes sparkled and she smiled, displaying dimples and a set of teeth that had seen better days.
"I – I am Fantine, Miss – Miss – "
"Nancy."
"Miss Nancy."
"Oi won't 'ave none o' this 'Miss Nancy'-ing. Not even me callers call me that, and they're the ones wot oughta be showin' the most respect fo' wot oi give 'em, eh, Lucy?" This last remark, which Fantine wasn't quite sure she had comprehended, was directed at the other young woman, who stepped out into the light with another soft laugh.
Lucy's gown, a scandalously short thing with a tight black bodice, was cleaner than Nancy's, but Fantine had to avert her eyes at the horrendous amount of skin her neckline betrayed. Her hair was a dark chestnut brown and was threatening to fall out of its messy bun on the top of her head. Her eyes had a bit of a faraway look, and perhaps had the light from the sign been a little bit brighter Fantine would have noticed the dark circles underneath them. However, whether from lack of observational skills or from poor lighting, the dark circles went unnoticed, as did the suspicious-looking bruises that dotted both women's bodies.
"So, Fantine, when did you get to this fine place?" asked Nancy in her loud, jovial voice.
"I – I don't quite know how I got here," she admitted. "I was sacked from the factory this afternoon and I had nowhere to go, so I went walking in the streets in search of a way to make a few francs – "
Nancy and Lucy shared a knowing look.
"- and then I realized that I didn't recognize the alleyways, and it all became a blur...I mean, I was sort of lost in thought...and then all of a sudden, it became very windy, and it turned so cold that I ducked under a doorway to take shelter. When I awoke it was dark, and I had no idea where I was. I kept walking until I saw the light from that sign. I followed it, and here I am."
"So, why did they sack you?" asked Lucy.
Fantine didn't know if she wanted to share the whole story with these strange girls, but she didn't want to lie to such kind faces. "Well...one of the women at the factory read a letter that was intended for me," she began. Might as well skip the bastard daughter and the illiteracy, she thought. "It's a long story, but we got into a fight and M'sieur Madeleine, the owner, made the foreman deal with it. The foreman, well, he's a bit...er, see, he had been wanting me to...but I wouldn't..." she trailed off, embarrassed.
Noticing her blush, Nancy hazarded a guess.
"'E wanted to take you an' you wouldn't 'ave 'im? Is 'e an ugly one, then?"
"Er...yes, and yes," said Fantine, a little aghast.
"'Appens all the time wiv the pretty ones like us – take a look at their trousers, you'll see where they stand," Nancy said with a wink. To Lucy, she said, "Where's Aldonza? She should be 'ere wiv the key by now."
"I don't know, Nance. How should I know?"
"Cor, she's always late. Not as late as you can be, mind," grumbled Nancy. She noticed that Fantine was shivering. "'Ere, want my shawl?" Fantine tried to protest politely, but before she knew it the shawl was on her shoulders and she was a little less cold. Looking around at the women chatting, Fantine saw that although their appearances echoed the cold, hungry, desperation that she felt, they all seemed kind-hearted enough.
"Aldonza! Wot took you so long?"
A woman in a torn frock sauntered toward the group. Her hair was black and fell to her shoulders. She would have been beautiful if it weren't for the bruises and the dark expression on her face. She threw a meaningful glance at Nancy and unlocked the door. As the chattering crowd rushed in, Lucy took Fantine's hand and told her to follow closely. Fantine obeyed, and was led through a cobwebby corridor to a dimly lit room.
As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw an empty table surrounded by about twenty chairs. Fantine saw Nancy sit down in a beaten-up armchair, and she rushed to take a seat beside her on what she found to be a solid, if splintery wooden chair. Lucy took a seat to her left on a rickety-looking barstool. Fantine wanted to ask her something, but she had that far-off look in her eyes again, so she decided not to interrupt her reverie.
"– so oi said to 'im, oi said, 'No bloody –" Nancy was telling a story to Aldonza as Fantine gently poked her in the arm. "Oh, 'ey Fantine. Wot d'you want?"
"I was just wondering...where are we?"
"This is our place."
"What do you mean, our place?"
"It's where girls like us go after a long day on the job." This was said with a glance to Aldonza.
"Girls like us? What do you mean...what job? I have no job, as of this morning."
"Look. When you left the factory, what were you 'eaded to do? 'Ow were you going to earn a livin'?"
Fantine didn't like the direction of this conversation. It seemed that Nancy knew, or suspected, what she had been contemplating doing. If her hair wouldn't sell, she would just have to sell something else to earn ten francs to save her poor Cosette...
"'Oo's Cosette?" Damn it. Fantine had been thinking aloud. She sighed. She knew that she might as well tell them. They would get it out of her sooner or later.
"There's a child, and the child is my daughter. Her father abandoned us, leaving us flat. Now she lives with an innkeeper man and his wife, and I pay for her boarding with what I can make at the factory job. But now..."
"– you're thinking of joining the oldest profession and becoming a whore for the sake of your daughter? This girl 'as an 'eart of gold!" exclaimed Nancy to the others.
Fantine looked away from the shame of it. The other women in the room had all been listening, and they were now muttering and whispering – probably about what a horrible person she was, to have fallen so low...
"Poor Fantine! Don't worry, we'll take care you you!"
"Cares only about 'er daughter, not a thought fo' 'erself!"
"Way to go, girl, you're a regular saint!"
Fantine looked at them in shock. Were they applauding her for that which society had shunned her? This was a very strange place. Who would celebrate someone's willingness to become a – a prostitute? Unless...no...they couldn't be...
"'Course we're working girls." She had been thinking aloud again. Nancy noticed the bewildered look on Fantine's face. "That's why you're 'ere, ain't it? Didn't you read the sign?"
"I never learned how to read." A collective gasp from the group and more whispering lead Fantine to believe that she had missed something important on the sign.
"Do you think she thinks – no – what if she doesn't know about stock charact– ssh! Don't let 'er 'ear – should we tell her? - you sure she's one of us? - 'course oi am, did you see the look in 'er eyes when she spoke of the child – and the way she got here, just like the rest of us – the wind, the confusion, seeing the glowing sign – c'mon, let's tell 'er, she seems like a sweet girl..."
They turned toward Fantine, smiling.
"Welcome to Characteria," they chorused. "We're the Tarts With Hearts."
A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Leave a review, please – this is my first fic! :)