Catherine knelt in the dewy bushes, staring up at the balcony above
her. She could see that the; lamps within the flat were still lit; her love
was still awake at this late hour. She debated for a few moments more, and
then scooped up a handful of pebbles, tossing them one at a time, lightly
against the glass of his balcony door.
After a few moments, the door opened. Her love peered out, his pistol visibly drawn. He stood still a few moments and then spoke, the sound of his authoritative baritone voice nearly bringing her to tears. "Who's there?"
She knew that, if things went badly, this was quite possibly the last time that she would see him. Catherine had to swallow twice before she could speak. "It is only I, my dearest Javert."
He leaned over the iron railing and peered into the darkness. "Catherine, love, what are you doing here? Paris is not safe, not with all this talk of revolution in the air."
She ascended the steps to his balcony. "That is why I came. I. I needed to see you. To let you know that, no matter what may befall us in the next few days, I love you."
Javert took her in his arms. The tone in his voice had changed from cold and stern to gentle and caring in a matter of a few heartbeats. "I know how you feel, beloved Catherine. You know that I feel the same."
She stepped back after a few moments, gazing into his grey eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Javert wiped it away tenderly.
The clock on his mantelpiece chimed midnight. She smiled softly. "You're up later than usual. Why?"
He sighed. " I could not sleep. Tomorrow's possibilities are weighing heavily upon me. Paris is dancing upon the edge of a blade, dearest. Let us pray that it does not slip."
She sighed softly. "I must go, Javert. I have.business to attend to early in the morning."
He smiled softly, the happiness not quite masking the fear and worry in his eyes. "As have I." He leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss. After a moment, her pulled back. "Goodnight, my love."
She moved back down the steps and down the slick cobblestone street, still wet from the rain that had fallen earlier that night. She looked back once and then pulled up the cowl of her cloak, moving off into the night.
The next morning, Catherine walked to the small café that served at the secret headquarters for the ABC Society, one of the most powerful student unions and one of the leading groups of dissenters. The café was nearly empty when she entered; only a few of the Society's members were inside, disguised as patrons but serving as lookouts.
Catherine nodded discreetly at one of the society's other leaders, Enjolras, and moved quickly into the back room. She untied her dark brown cloak and hung it one of the wooden pegs that were in the wall.
Turning around, she saw a sight that made her inwardly tremble. Sitting at one of the tables, cleaning a pistol, was her beloved Javert. He looked up, and the pistol slipped from his fingers to the floor with a loud clatter. He bent and picked it up, all the while grumbling about his clumsiness.
Catherine looked away, and saw the Society's other leader, Marius Pomercei, staring at her, a questioning expression on his face. She shook her head, forcing a smile to come to her lips. She moved over to Javert's table, setting down the firearms that she had collected, not meeting his gaze.
She then moved over to Marius' table and did her best to look normal. "Good morning, Marius."
He half rose as she sat down. "And a good morning to yourself, Catherine. Thirsty?" He poured her a glass of dark red wine and handed it to her.
"Parched, my friend. Absolutely parched." She took a sip of the chilled liquid, trying very hard not to look at Javert out of the corner of her eye and failing miserably. He sat there, a look very much like jealousy creeping up on his face. "So, how goes the planning? When do we make our move?"
Marius flashed her a grim smile. "Go and see your beloved tonight, my dear friend. I shall be seeing my dearest Cossette. Tonight we must say our goodbyes, for tomorrow we strike." Catherine looked away and he touched her hand. "I know how you feel, but as my second in command, I need you to help rally the people. We cannot allow our Lemark to be buried as the king's hero. Meet us at the barricade after you get your sister to safety."
Catherine nodded, taking a deep breath. "Of course I shall be there, my friend. It's just that."
Marius nodded. "I know that you are worried about your darling Inspector. I pray that he does not get involved."
Catherine sighed. "I fear he will, my friend. I fear he will." While she put on a calm façade, Catherine was inwardly being torn in two. She wanted to protect Javert, but when push came to shove, she knew that they would be on opposite sides of this war. She momentarily thought about revealing him, but instantly pushed the thought out of her mind.
She finished her wine and rose, Marius rising along with her. She bid him farewell and donned her cloak. She paused for a moment, hand on the door handle, and then opened it and stepped out into the café's main room. She nodded to Enjolras, moving quickly onto the street. She had not betrayed Javert, and she would not.
Catherine moved up the steps of a cathedral, moving to the front of the room and lighting several prayer candles. She sank to her knees, praying for the wisdom to do what was right, and hoping that her loyalty would not prove to be in vain. She knelt for a long while in silence, before voicing out loud what she had been saying inwardly. "God, let him live through this."
A hand on her shoulder made her jump; she had thought that the church had been empty. She looked up and right into the eyes of Javert. He smiled at her. "May I join you, dear Catherine?"
At her nod, he sank to his knees beside her, lighting a candle. He closed his eyes, praying silently. Catherine studied his face, drinking in every detail as the soft candlelight played off of his features. He finally opened his eyes, and they sat in silence until their candles burned out. He spoke first, his voice soft and gentle. "Thank you for not giving me away."
She smiled softly, leaning against him. "And thank you for not arresting me. I am so sorry that I could not tell you, but."
".I would have tried to stop you. I know that you cannot sit at home tomorrow, just as you know that I cannot. Our lots are cast, my love." He rose, and helped her to rise as well. "I never saw the face of the woman in the café. She never took off her cloak."
Catherine nodded, knowing how hard it was for him to bend the truth like this. "So now what?"
Javert shifted his weight, uncomfortably. "Now we prepare for tomorrow and hope that God sees fit to answer our prayers. I pray that He keeps you safe, my love." With that, he strode out of the church, not looking back.
Catherine stood for a moment longer, and then left the cathedral. Javert was right; she had much to do before the fighting began. Much to do, and so little time to do it in.
The next evening, Catherine slipped down the alleyway and into the back entrance of the revolutionaries' makeshift headquarters. She had not been at Lemark's funeral, but had received word that all had had gone according to plan. Once her sister had safely departed, she had set out immediatley, using the police's distraction and her basic appearance to her advantage. No one would suspect a petite woman to be the leader of a group of radicals.
She moved through the room filled with her wounded and fallen comrades, and entered the main room, looking for Marius. The sight before her stopped her dead in her tracks.
The man that she loved more than anything in the world was bound to a support beam. She vaugely heard his guard telling someone that he would be shot with the next spare bullet, but everything around her had seemed to grow distant. The only thing that mattered was the haunted look in Javert's eyes.
Catherine didn't remember crossing the room; she was just suddenly there, staring down at him. She turned to the guard, eyes filled with unshed tears. "Leave me alone with the prisoner." Her voice was thick with pain, and sounded very strained.
The guard, recognizing her nodded, and rose from his seat. "I shall inform Marius of your arrival, Madmoiselle." With that, her turned and left the room, moving out into the actual barricade.
Javert looked into her eyes as she sank down to her knees in front of him, tears that she had been to proud to shed in front of the guard now rolling freely down her cheeks. "Catherine, I am so very sorry."
She put a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Shh. It's alright, love." She leaned in and kissed him tenderly, running a hand through his thick, unbound hair. She broke the kiss after a few moments. "Javert. I cannot."
".Save me. I know," he smiled at her sadly. "Just stay with me for as long as you can. Please."
She nodded, and sat down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. He leaned his head against hers, inhailing the scent of her hair for the last time. They stayed that way for a long while, each drawing comfort from the other, a comfortable silence passing between them.
All too soon, Marius came racing into the room, carrying a small, limp body in his arms. He laid it on a table, and Catherine saw its face for the first time. She got to her feet quickly and raced over to him. "Dear God, Gavroche." She looked down at the ten year old child, seeing that a bullet had passed through his chest. She knew that he was dead.
Enjolaras raced into the room, and stood behind her, staring down at the fallen child for a moment. He then glared at Javert, a powerful hatred burning in his eyes. He moved over to Javert, pointing a musket at him. "Let's do it now."
Javert's guard from earlier moved over, glaring down at him. "Are you proud of your work?! You're next!"
A man, who Catherine vaugley recognized as the father of Marius' lady love volunteered to shoot him. Marius handed him a pistol, as Javert's bonds were cut. Enjolaras pulled him roughly to his feet and bound his hands behind his back. "Do it outside. We don't want his blood in here with ours."
Catherine, who had been numb up until this point, shot a pleading look at Marius. She begged him with her eyes not to go through with this. Marius looked away, shaking his head. "Say your goodbyes."
Javert closed the gap between them, allowing her to lean into him. "I love you, Catherine."
Catherine embraced him. She could feel him trembling slightly, though she knew that the others would not notice and his voice did not betray his fear. "And I you. With all my heart. I am sorry that we never got a chance."
He leaned down and kissed her, for the last time. "Do not think about what might have been. I love you, and I have no regrets."
With that, his executioner lead him into the alleyway. A few minutes later, a single shot was fired. Catherine barely heard the others leaving the room as she dropped to her knees, and wept.
A few hours later, Catherine stood with the other surviving leaders, hands bound behind her back. A short time before, the King's men had stormed the barricade, and demanded their surrender. Catherine knew that she was going to die, yet strangely she didn't care.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, she and her companions stood facing a firing squad. She glanced through the early morning mist, and took in a breath of surprise.
There, standing in the swirling mist, looking every bit as handsome as the first day they had met, was her beloved Javert. He had changed into his typically impeccable, black uniform and had not seen her yet. She half prayed that he wouldn't see her, that he wouldn't watch her die.
He turned and his grey eyes met hers. They were instantly filled with a deep and profound sadness. She knew that he was as powerless to save her as she had been to save him earlier. Javert mouthed, "Je t'aime; I love you."
She heard cries of "Long live the Republic!" going up from her comrades, but her attention was only for him. She stared into the eyes of the man that she loved and mouthed, "I love you too."
Catherine smiled, her calm eyes staring into his grief-stricken ones, offering him what little comfort she could. Their eyes stayed locked, even as the bullet passed through her heart, delivering her swiftly into death.
Javert turned away as the body of his beloved hit the cobblestone street. A single tear rolled down his cheek, and he let it fall. He strode away, not looking back, praying that he would one day meet his love again.
After a few moments, the door opened. Her love peered out, his pistol visibly drawn. He stood still a few moments and then spoke, the sound of his authoritative baritone voice nearly bringing her to tears. "Who's there?"
She knew that, if things went badly, this was quite possibly the last time that she would see him. Catherine had to swallow twice before she could speak. "It is only I, my dearest Javert."
He leaned over the iron railing and peered into the darkness. "Catherine, love, what are you doing here? Paris is not safe, not with all this talk of revolution in the air."
She ascended the steps to his balcony. "That is why I came. I. I needed to see you. To let you know that, no matter what may befall us in the next few days, I love you."
Javert took her in his arms. The tone in his voice had changed from cold and stern to gentle and caring in a matter of a few heartbeats. "I know how you feel, beloved Catherine. You know that I feel the same."
She stepped back after a few moments, gazing into his grey eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Javert wiped it away tenderly.
The clock on his mantelpiece chimed midnight. She smiled softly. "You're up later than usual. Why?"
He sighed. " I could not sleep. Tomorrow's possibilities are weighing heavily upon me. Paris is dancing upon the edge of a blade, dearest. Let us pray that it does not slip."
She sighed softly. "I must go, Javert. I have.business to attend to early in the morning."
He smiled softly, the happiness not quite masking the fear and worry in his eyes. "As have I." He leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss. After a moment, her pulled back. "Goodnight, my love."
She moved back down the steps and down the slick cobblestone street, still wet from the rain that had fallen earlier that night. She looked back once and then pulled up the cowl of her cloak, moving off into the night.
The next morning, Catherine walked to the small café that served at the secret headquarters for the ABC Society, one of the most powerful student unions and one of the leading groups of dissenters. The café was nearly empty when she entered; only a few of the Society's members were inside, disguised as patrons but serving as lookouts.
Catherine nodded discreetly at one of the society's other leaders, Enjolras, and moved quickly into the back room. She untied her dark brown cloak and hung it one of the wooden pegs that were in the wall.
Turning around, she saw a sight that made her inwardly tremble. Sitting at one of the tables, cleaning a pistol, was her beloved Javert. He looked up, and the pistol slipped from his fingers to the floor with a loud clatter. He bent and picked it up, all the while grumbling about his clumsiness.
Catherine looked away, and saw the Society's other leader, Marius Pomercei, staring at her, a questioning expression on his face. She shook her head, forcing a smile to come to her lips. She moved over to Javert's table, setting down the firearms that she had collected, not meeting his gaze.
She then moved over to Marius' table and did her best to look normal. "Good morning, Marius."
He half rose as she sat down. "And a good morning to yourself, Catherine. Thirsty?" He poured her a glass of dark red wine and handed it to her.
"Parched, my friend. Absolutely parched." She took a sip of the chilled liquid, trying very hard not to look at Javert out of the corner of her eye and failing miserably. He sat there, a look very much like jealousy creeping up on his face. "So, how goes the planning? When do we make our move?"
Marius flashed her a grim smile. "Go and see your beloved tonight, my dear friend. I shall be seeing my dearest Cossette. Tonight we must say our goodbyes, for tomorrow we strike." Catherine looked away and he touched her hand. "I know how you feel, but as my second in command, I need you to help rally the people. We cannot allow our Lemark to be buried as the king's hero. Meet us at the barricade after you get your sister to safety."
Catherine nodded, taking a deep breath. "Of course I shall be there, my friend. It's just that."
Marius nodded. "I know that you are worried about your darling Inspector. I pray that he does not get involved."
Catherine sighed. "I fear he will, my friend. I fear he will." While she put on a calm façade, Catherine was inwardly being torn in two. She wanted to protect Javert, but when push came to shove, she knew that they would be on opposite sides of this war. She momentarily thought about revealing him, but instantly pushed the thought out of her mind.
She finished her wine and rose, Marius rising along with her. She bid him farewell and donned her cloak. She paused for a moment, hand on the door handle, and then opened it and stepped out into the café's main room. She nodded to Enjolras, moving quickly onto the street. She had not betrayed Javert, and she would not.
Catherine moved up the steps of a cathedral, moving to the front of the room and lighting several prayer candles. She sank to her knees, praying for the wisdom to do what was right, and hoping that her loyalty would not prove to be in vain. She knelt for a long while in silence, before voicing out loud what she had been saying inwardly. "God, let him live through this."
A hand on her shoulder made her jump; she had thought that the church had been empty. She looked up and right into the eyes of Javert. He smiled at her. "May I join you, dear Catherine?"
At her nod, he sank to his knees beside her, lighting a candle. He closed his eyes, praying silently. Catherine studied his face, drinking in every detail as the soft candlelight played off of his features. He finally opened his eyes, and they sat in silence until their candles burned out. He spoke first, his voice soft and gentle. "Thank you for not giving me away."
She smiled softly, leaning against him. "And thank you for not arresting me. I am so sorry that I could not tell you, but."
".I would have tried to stop you. I know that you cannot sit at home tomorrow, just as you know that I cannot. Our lots are cast, my love." He rose, and helped her to rise as well. "I never saw the face of the woman in the café. She never took off her cloak."
Catherine nodded, knowing how hard it was for him to bend the truth like this. "So now what?"
Javert shifted his weight, uncomfortably. "Now we prepare for tomorrow and hope that God sees fit to answer our prayers. I pray that He keeps you safe, my love." With that, he strode out of the church, not looking back.
Catherine stood for a moment longer, and then left the cathedral. Javert was right; she had much to do before the fighting began. Much to do, and so little time to do it in.
The next evening, Catherine slipped down the alleyway and into the back entrance of the revolutionaries' makeshift headquarters. She had not been at Lemark's funeral, but had received word that all had had gone according to plan. Once her sister had safely departed, she had set out immediatley, using the police's distraction and her basic appearance to her advantage. No one would suspect a petite woman to be the leader of a group of radicals.
She moved through the room filled with her wounded and fallen comrades, and entered the main room, looking for Marius. The sight before her stopped her dead in her tracks.
The man that she loved more than anything in the world was bound to a support beam. She vaugely heard his guard telling someone that he would be shot with the next spare bullet, but everything around her had seemed to grow distant. The only thing that mattered was the haunted look in Javert's eyes.
Catherine didn't remember crossing the room; she was just suddenly there, staring down at him. She turned to the guard, eyes filled with unshed tears. "Leave me alone with the prisoner." Her voice was thick with pain, and sounded very strained.
The guard, recognizing her nodded, and rose from his seat. "I shall inform Marius of your arrival, Madmoiselle." With that, her turned and left the room, moving out into the actual barricade.
Javert looked into her eyes as she sank down to her knees in front of him, tears that she had been to proud to shed in front of the guard now rolling freely down her cheeks. "Catherine, I am so very sorry."
She put a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Shh. It's alright, love." She leaned in and kissed him tenderly, running a hand through his thick, unbound hair. She broke the kiss after a few moments. "Javert. I cannot."
".Save me. I know," he smiled at her sadly. "Just stay with me for as long as you can. Please."
She nodded, and sat down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. He leaned his head against hers, inhailing the scent of her hair for the last time. They stayed that way for a long while, each drawing comfort from the other, a comfortable silence passing between them.
All too soon, Marius came racing into the room, carrying a small, limp body in his arms. He laid it on a table, and Catherine saw its face for the first time. She got to her feet quickly and raced over to him. "Dear God, Gavroche." She looked down at the ten year old child, seeing that a bullet had passed through his chest. She knew that he was dead.
Enjolaras raced into the room, and stood behind her, staring down at the fallen child for a moment. He then glared at Javert, a powerful hatred burning in his eyes. He moved over to Javert, pointing a musket at him. "Let's do it now."
Javert's guard from earlier moved over, glaring down at him. "Are you proud of your work?! You're next!"
A man, who Catherine vaugley recognized as the father of Marius' lady love volunteered to shoot him. Marius handed him a pistol, as Javert's bonds were cut. Enjolaras pulled him roughly to his feet and bound his hands behind his back. "Do it outside. We don't want his blood in here with ours."
Catherine, who had been numb up until this point, shot a pleading look at Marius. She begged him with her eyes not to go through with this. Marius looked away, shaking his head. "Say your goodbyes."
Javert closed the gap between them, allowing her to lean into him. "I love you, Catherine."
Catherine embraced him. She could feel him trembling slightly, though she knew that the others would not notice and his voice did not betray his fear. "And I you. With all my heart. I am sorry that we never got a chance."
He leaned down and kissed her, for the last time. "Do not think about what might have been. I love you, and I have no regrets."
With that, his executioner lead him into the alleyway. A few minutes later, a single shot was fired. Catherine barely heard the others leaving the room as she dropped to her knees, and wept.
A few hours later, Catherine stood with the other surviving leaders, hands bound behind her back. A short time before, the King's men had stormed the barricade, and demanded their surrender. Catherine knew that she was going to die, yet strangely she didn't care.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, she and her companions stood facing a firing squad. She glanced through the early morning mist, and took in a breath of surprise.
There, standing in the swirling mist, looking every bit as handsome as the first day they had met, was her beloved Javert. He had changed into his typically impeccable, black uniform and had not seen her yet. She half prayed that he wouldn't see her, that he wouldn't watch her die.
He turned and his grey eyes met hers. They were instantly filled with a deep and profound sadness. She knew that he was as powerless to save her as she had been to save him earlier. Javert mouthed, "Je t'aime; I love you."
She heard cries of "Long live the Republic!" going up from her comrades, but her attention was only for him. She stared into the eyes of the man that she loved and mouthed, "I love you too."
Catherine smiled, her calm eyes staring into his grief-stricken ones, offering him what little comfort she could. Their eyes stayed locked, even as the bullet passed through her heart, delivering her swiftly into death.
Javert turned away as the body of his beloved hit the cobblestone street. A single tear rolled down his cheek, and he let it fall. He strode away, not looking back, praying that he would one day meet his love again.