Cosette got out of bed with a dainty yawn, stepped over to the open window
and gazed down at her garden, smiling as she remembered Marius' visit the
night before. How she loved him! A lark lighted on the windowsill and she
took it up on her finger. It trilled a greeting.
"Good morning, little one. You sing so beautifully, and indeed there is much to sing of, for the sun shines, and I have seen my beloved. Why, he must think of me this very moment! Ah, my wonderful Marius!" The bird trilled a measure in agreement. "Yes, you know how perfect he is. How I wish. Oh! But though I may not leave here without father knowing of my love for Marius, you are as free as the wind itself. Go, little one! Go and watch over my beloved, and let him know I think of him!"
At her bidding, the bird chirped sweetly, then leapt into flight, soaring across the city.
~*~*~*~
Marius walked into the Café Musain, his eyes aglow and a merry tune on his lips.
"Oho!" said Courfeyrac as he saw him. "It seems our Marius has paid his mistress a visit."
"Mistress?!" Marius repeated, outraged. "How can you give such a foul name to my lady? She is not one of your whores, giving her graces to whoever pleases her best with gifts! She is an angel from Heaven itself, who has lost her way back to the Lord's side."
"I think I should be glad M. Pontmercy isn't in love more often," murmured Jean Prouvaire dryly, "or else I might fear that he would put my own poor skill with words to shame."
The others who had gathered around laughed at this, but Marius walked to the window and spoke quietly.
"Her hair is of the finest copper silk, soft and glowing like fire; her sapphire eyes glow with innocent joy, yet are as deep as the very ocean; her skin is soft and perfect as a babe's, and white as the finest porcelain; and her voice." He paused, unsure how to describe that angelic sound. He heard a lark sing in a nearby treetop, and smiled. "And her voice is more glad and pure even than that of yonder lark. She is the epitome of innocence, giving of herself to all who ask it, dancing in the sun like one of the very Graces."
He continued thus though the others had long since lost interest in this litany of virtues and turned to their wine. Only Enjolras still listened, his interest caught by this maiden of whom Marius spoke as avidly as he himself has ever spoken as avidly as his own Patria. A melancholy longing arose in him.
Disturbed by what he felt, he called to the other men, who were now jesting over some tale Bahorel had told.
"Friends, for a long time now we have spoken of revolution, yet our revolution has consisted of no more than words and simple preparations. Until now, all we have done is talk and drink, but the time is at hand when we must do more. This morning I received a saddening correspondence. General Lamarque, or only friend amongst the powerful, has died. We must seize this moment as a signal to rise up and take what is truly ours. Our barricade must rise today!"
There were mixed cries of dismay and enthusiasm at this, and the Café fell into chaos for a short time, but order was soon restored, and Enjolras began to oversee the execution of the plans which had been waiting for so long to become actions.
~*~*~*~
Cosette knelt in the garden, gently tending to a young bush of golden roses. She sang a childish air as her hands moved across the branches, and the thorns seemed to move away so as to avoid marring that flawless flesh.
Valjean was sitting at a wooden bench at the edge of the garden, taking in every note as reverently as he would a saint's prayer. Life seemed so wonderful, and he barely remembered those cursed days of flight. How could such fear have a place in the face of so beautiful a situation as this? He hummed quietly along to the song, basking in the glory of the child.
Cosette felt something fly past her face and drew back in alarm. She saw, however, that t was just the lark and smiled. "Oh! You surprised me, little one, coming like that. What brings you here? A message from my beloved?" As the lark chirped its reply, her brow furrowed prettily with concern. "Fighting? Building a barricade? Oh! But it mustn't be! What of my Marius? I cannot let him risk himself like this! I must go o him! Fly now, dear one. I won't be able to go until nightfall, when papa is abed, so watch over my love for now and try to keep him safe."
Once the bird had gone, she stood up and turned to the old man. "Papa," she said, "the sun is making me dizzy. I think I might sit indoors for a little while. Don't miss me too much!"
"How can I do anything but miss you when I am not blessed with your presence, my light?" he asked, a trace of concern in his eyes at her dizziness, but she just laughed lightly and kissed him tenderly on the forehead before flitting up to her room to start preparing herself for her night journey.
~*~*~*~
Enjolras surveyed the newly completed barricade, testing every facet for strength and endurance. Finally satisfied, he looked up at the western sky, where the sun was almost gone from view.
As he watched it disappear completely, his attention was caught by a movement in one of the nearby streets. Calling for Bossuet to take the watch, he leapt down into the street, musket in hand. He entered the street in which he'd seen the movement by a back way, and pushed the cloaked figure against a wall, his musket raised.
"Who are you, and what business have you with the revolution?" he demanded.
The girl started to sob. "Please, Monsieur," she pleaded, "I mean no harm. I.I just." her tears eased as what he'd said registered. "The revolution? Then you know my Marius, perhaps?" She put a hand to her head to steady her thoughts, and by doing so, knocked the hood back from her face.
Enjolras' breath caught. This must be the maiden of whom Marius had spoken. No other could be as she. Her hair was copper, her eyes sapphires, her skin was porcelain, and her lips. His eyes lingered on these the longest. Her lips.
"Come with me," he found himself saying. "We must go by a back way so as to be safe from malicious eyes."
He led her a way through the back streets before it became clear to him what he intended, and he was for a moment repulsed. "No," he told himself, "she isn't mine to take."
When they reached the barricade, he told her to wait a short distance away while he called for Marius to come and meet them. When they had exclaimed their initial joy and wonder at seeing each other thus, he spoke. "It is not safe for Cosette to stay here tonight. I know a place not far off where she will be safe. Marius, I can show you the way later if you so desire. For now though, speak while you can."
He then moved far enough away that they would not be conscious of his presence, without his being so far as to miss their words.
"But what are you doing here, beloved?" asked Marius anxiously. "It is not safe for you."
"So I should leave you here? I heard there would be fighting, so came to take you away, else die by your side."
"Hush! Do not speak of such things," he reprimanded gently. "Neither of us shall perish."
"But what if you do? What if I lose you having never once felt even the touch of your lips on mine?" she cried.
"If that is your worry, then I shall come to you tonight. Enjolras will show me the way."
At the mention of that name, Cosette felt a shiver pass through her. "Do not let me alone with him, Marius. I am afraid of him. His eyes burn so."
"Hush, my own. The fire in his eyes is that of revolution. He is as chaste as a bishop, and would never do anything which would dishonour any woman. As you trust me, trust him."
Cosette nodded, not fully convinced, yet unwilling to give Marius reason to trust her devotion.
Enjolras, perceiving that the meeting had gone as he'd hoped, strode towards them.
"Marius, you must return now. You shall see her again tonight."
The lovers' hands clasped briefly before Marius turned and fled towards the barricades, Cosette mutely watching him go.
Enjolras put his hand upon Cosette's shoulder, taking in the firm suppleness of her flesh. "Come, and I'll take you where you'll be safe."
Once they'd arrived at the place, which was little more than an abandoned closet some streets away, he spoke to her again. "I say you'll be safe here, but only if you wish to be so. You mustn't leave this place, and do not utter a sound. I'll tell Marius the same for when he comes. There are ears in the unlikeliest places in Paris." Then, after seeing her securely in the tiny room, he turned and strode back to the barricades.
~*~*~*~
The men were drinking and talking, seemingly closer than he had ever seen them. They were louder than he would have liked, but he let them talk. They may not get another chance, after all. Looking out at the street, he decided it was a safe time to take Marius to see Cosette. He walked to where he was seated with Feuilly and Combeferre.
"Marius," he began. When the other looked up hopefully, he continued, though his words were different than he'd initially intended. "I cannot let you out of the barricade tonight. It is too dangerous. I've seen men lurking in the shadows. It would do neither you nor your Cosette any good to get yourself killed now." In a louder voice, he addressed the rest of the students. "No one is to leave the barricades, for any reason. There are men waiting for an easy target, and I do not mean to give them one. Be watchful, but do not endanger yourselves." He looked back at Marius, who hope had turned to sorrow, and said a short "I'm sorry" before he turned and slipped away from the barricades to the small room he'd left just a couple of hours earlier.
Before entering, he checked over himself. He'd left his vest hidden under a barrel, and now there was nothing which would identify him in the darkness. He pushed open the door and closed it immediately, unwilling to let any traitorous light spoil his plans. Not yet. When Cosette opened her mouth to speak to him, he placed his fingers on her lips to caution her to silence, then placed his own lips in their place, reveling in the feel of her body rousing to his. He pushed her down onto the bed, tearing aside her skirts, letting his fingers linger on the untouched flesh of her thighs. She cried out slightly at his roughness, but he simply kissed her again, and she murmured a soft "my own." Good, she didn't yet realize. But he dared not hope for that for much longer. He untied his breeches and thrust himself inside her. Now she really cried out, screaming at the unaccustomed pain, but soon the pleasure of the moment overtook her and she let him do as he wished.
When he was done with her, she looked up at him, peering through the darkness, and gave a cry of alarm. "Who are you?! You're not my beloved!" She broke into distraught sobs and collapsed on the bed. Enjolras felt something move in him at seeing her so helpless, but didn't let himself give in. It would be better if she didn't know. He tied his breeches and straightened his clothes before stepping out into the street and heading back to the barricade. Most of the students had fallen asleep over their bottles, so didn't notice his return. He settled himself in an unoccupied corner and settled to sleep himself, though not noticing that his shirt was spattered with the first blood of the revolution.
~*~*~*~
Cosette woke to the sound of distant gunshots. A few moments passed before she realized exactly what the sound implied. Marius! She jumped to her feet, and felt a soreness in her thighs which brought back the pain of the previous night. Looking over her dress, she saw that she was able to patch up the worst damage with one of her ribbons so that she would at least be decently covered. There were blood stains on her skirt, but nothing could be done about them. She nearly wept again in shame, but reminded herself that she must go to her beloved.
She ran through the streets of Paris towards the sound of the gunshots and finally arrived at the barricade, which was surrounded by soldiers. She tried to slip past them, but was caught. "But I must get to my love!" she cried as rough hands grabbed her.
"Your beloved?" laughed one of them.
"Let's see how beloved she is by him," suggested another, who cupped his hands around his mouth to shout, "You at the barricades! I have a wench here who says she belongs to one of you! Anyone want her? If not, she's dead." The first soldier shifted his gun towards her.
Seeing who it was, Enjolras paled and signaled to Bossuet to keep Marius from seeing.
"She is of no interest to us. Do what you will," he called, then whispered faintly, "Forgive me."
The soldier kept to his word, and everyone present turned his head away as the shot was fired. Silence reigned over the scene for a few dark moments. Then, as if summoned by her ghost, every dog, cat and bird in the city came and threw themselves at the soldiers surrounding the barricades. They fought so fiercely that those that could were forced to flee, and no other attack could be raised against this group which now had so formidable an ally. A great cheer arose from the barricades at the retreat, and the students danced and sang with joy.
Only Marius was not yet content. "Where's Cosette," he asked Enjolras, a sick feeling in his stomach. "Where did you leave her?"
The leader of the students only gestured to her broken corpse, which was now surrounded by birds singing a mournful dirge over her. "She saved the revolution," he murmured, as Marius broke down and wept.
"Good morning, little one. You sing so beautifully, and indeed there is much to sing of, for the sun shines, and I have seen my beloved. Why, he must think of me this very moment! Ah, my wonderful Marius!" The bird trilled a measure in agreement. "Yes, you know how perfect he is. How I wish. Oh! But though I may not leave here without father knowing of my love for Marius, you are as free as the wind itself. Go, little one! Go and watch over my beloved, and let him know I think of him!"
At her bidding, the bird chirped sweetly, then leapt into flight, soaring across the city.
~*~*~*~
Marius walked into the Café Musain, his eyes aglow and a merry tune on his lips.
"Oho!" said Courfeyrac as he saw him. "It seems our Marius has paid his mistress a visit."
"Mistress?!" Marius repeated, outraged. "How can you give such a foul name to my lady? She is not one of your whores, giving her graces to whoever pleases her best with gifts! She is an angel from Heaven itself, who has lost her way back to the Lord's side."
"I think I should be glad M. Pontmercy isn't in love more often," murmured Jean Prouvaire dryly, "or else I might fear that he would put my own poor skill with words to shame."
The others who had gathered around laughed at this, but Marius walked to the window and spoke quietly.
"Her hair is of the finest copper silk, soft and glowing like fire; her sapphire eyes glow with innocent joy, yet are as deep as the very ocean; her skin is soft and perfect as a babe's, and white as the finest porcelain; and her voice." He paused, unsure how to describe that angelic sound. He heard a lark sing in a nearby treetop, and smiled. "And her voice is more glad and pure even than that of yonder lark. She is the epitome of innocence, giving of herself to all who ask it, dancing in the sun like one of the very Graces."
He continued thus though the others had long since lost interest in this litany of virtues and turned to their wine. Only Enjolras still listened, his interest caught by this maiden of whom Marius spoke as avidly as he himself has ever spoken as avidly as his own Patria. A melancholy longing arose in him.
Disturbed by what he felt, he called to the other men, who were now jesting over some tale Bahorel had told.
"Friends, for a long time now we have spoken of revolution, yet our revolution has consisted of no more than words and simple preparations. Until now, all we have done is talk and drink, but the time is at hand when we must do more. This morning I received a saddening correspondence. General Lamarque, or only friend amongst the powerful, has died. We must seize this moment as a signal to rise up and take what is truly ours. Our barricade must rise today!"
There were mixed cries of dismay and enthusiasm at this, and the Café fell into chaos for a short time, but order was soon restored, and Enjolras began to oversee the execution of the plans which had been waiting for so long to become actions.
~*~*~*~
Cosette knelt in the garden, gently tending to a young bush of golden roses. She sang a childish air as her hands moved across the branches, and the thorns seemed to move away so as to avoid marring that flawless flesh.
Valjean was sitting at a wooden bench at the edge of the garden, taking in every note as reverently as he would a saint's prayer. Life seemed so wonderful, and he barely remembered those cursed days of flight. How could such fear have a place in the face of so beautiful a situation as this? He hummed quietly along to the song, basking in the glory of the child.
Cosette felt something fly past her face and drew back in alarm. She saw, however, that t was just the lark and smiled. "Oh! You surprised me, little one, coming like that. What brings you here? A message from my beloved?" As the lark chirped its reply, her brow furrowed prettily with concern. "Fighting? Building a barricade? Oh! But it mustn't be! What of my Marius? I cannot let him risk himself like this! I must go o him! Fly now, dear one. I won't be able to go until nightfall, when papa is abed, so watch over my love for now and try to keep him safe."
Once the bird had gone, she stood up and turned to the old man. "Papa," she said, "the sun is making me dizzy. I think I might sit indoors for a little while. Don't miss me too much!"
"How can I do anything but miss you when I am not blessed with your presence, my light?" he asked, a trace of concern in his eyes at her dizziness, but she just laughed lightly and kissed him tenderly on the forehead before flitting up to her room to start preparing herself for her night journey.
~*~*~*~
Enjolras surveyed the newly completed barricade, testing every facet for strength and endurance. Finally satisfied, he looked up at the western sky, where the sun was almost gone from view.
As he watched it disappear completely, his attention was caught by a movement in one of the nearby streets. Calling for Bossuet to take the watch, he leapt down into the street, musket in hand. He entered the street in which he'd seen the movement by a back way, and pushed the cloaked figure against a wall, his musket raised.
"Who are you, and what business have you with the revolution?" he demanded.
The girl started to sob. "Please, Monsieur," she pleaded, "I mean no harm. I.I just." her tears eased as what he'd said registered. "The revolution? Then you know my Marius, perhaps?" She put a hand to her head to steady her thoughts, and by doing so, knocked the hood back from her face.
Enjolras' breath caught. This must be the maiden of whom Marius had spoken. No other could be as she. Her hair was copper, her eyes sapphires, her skin was porcelain, and her lips. His eyes lingered on these the longest. Her lips.
"Come with me," he found himself saying. "We must go by a back way so as to be safe from malicious eyes."
He led her a way through the back streets before it became clear to him what he intended, and he was for a moment repulsed. "No," he told himself, "she isn't mine to take."
When they reached the barricade, he told her to wait a short distance away while he called for Marius to come and meet them. When they had exclaimed their initial joy and wonder at seeing each other thus, he spoke. "It is not safe for Cosette to stay here tonight. I know a place not far off where she will be safe. Marius, I can show you the way later if you so desire. For now though, speak while you can."
He then moved far enough away that they would not be conscious of his presence, without his being so far as to miss their words.
"But what are you doing here, beloved?" asked Marius anxiously. "It is not safe for you."
"So I should leave you here? I heard there would be fighting, so came to take you away, else die by your side."
"Hush! Do not speak of such things," he reprimanded gently. "Neither of us shall perish."
"But what if you do? What if I lose you having never once felt even the touch of your lips on mine?" she cried.
"If that is your worry, then I shall come to you tonight. Enjolras will show me the way."
At the mention of that name, Cosette felt a shiver pass through her. "Do not let me alone with him, Marius. I am afraid of him. His eyes burn so."
"Hush, my own. The fire in his eyes is that of revolution. He is as chaste as a bishop, and would never do anything which would dishonour any woman. As you trust me, trust him."
Cosette nodded, not fully convinced, yet unwilling to give Marius reason to trust her devotion.
Enjolras, perceiving that the meeting had gone as he'd hoped, strode towards them.
"Marius, you must return now. You shall see her again tonight."
The lovers' hands clasped briefly before Marius turned and fled towards the barricades, Cosette mutely watching him go.
Enjolras put his hand upon Cosette's shoulder, taking in the firm suppleness of her flesh. "Come, and I'll take you where you'll be safe."
Once they'd arrived at the place, which was little more than an abandoned closet some streets away, he spoke to her again. "I say you'll be safe here, but only if you wish to be so. You mustn't leave this place, and do not utter a sound. I'll tell Marius the same for when he comes. There are ears in the unlikeliest places in Paris." Then, after seeing her securely in the tiny room, he turned and strode back to the barricades.
~*~*~*~
The men were drinking and talking, seemingly closer than he had ever seen them. They were louder than he would have liked, but he let them talk. They may not get another chance, after all. Looking out at the street, he decided it was a safe time to take Marius to see Cosette. He walked to where he was seated with Feuilly and Combeferre.
"Marius," he began. When the other looked up hopefully, he continued, though his words were different than he'd initially intended. "I cannot let you out of the barricade tonight. It is too dangerous. I've seen men lurking in the shadows. It would do neither you nor your Cosette any good to get yourself killed now." In a louder voice, he addressed the rest of the students. "No one is to leave the barricades, for any reason. There are men waiting for an easy target, and I do not mean to give them one. Be watchful, but do not endanger yourselves." He looked back at Marius, who hope had turned to sorrow, and said a short "I'm sorry" before he turned and slipped away from the barricades to the small room he'd left just a couple of hours earlier.
Before entering, he checked over himself. He'd left his vest hidden under a barrel, and now there was nothing which would identify him in the darkness. He pushed open the door and closed it immediately, unwilling to let any traitorous light spoil his plans. Not yet. When Cosette opened her mouth to speak to him, he placed his fingers on her lips to caution her to silence, then placed his own lips in their place, reveling in the feel of her body rousing to his. He pushed her down onto the bed, tearing aside her skirts, letting his fingers linger on the untouched flesh of her thighs. She cried out slightly at his roughness, but he simply kissed her again, and she murmured a soft "my own." Good, she didn't yet realize. But he dared not hope for that for much longer. He untied his breeches and thrust himself inside her. Now she really cried out, screaming at the unaccustomed pain, but soon the pleasure of the moment overtook her and she let him do as he wished.
When he was done with her, she looked up at him, peering through the darkness, and gave a cry of alarm. "Who are you?! You're not my beloved!" She broke into distraught sobs and collapsed on the bed. Enjolras felt something move in him at seeing her so helpless, but didn't let himself give in. It would be better if she didn't know. He tied his breeches and straightened his clothes before stepping out into the street and heading back to the barricade. Most of the students had fallen asleep over their bottles, so didn't notice his return. He settled himself in an unoccupied corner and settled to sleep himself, though not noticing that his shirt was spattered with the first blood of the revolution.
~*~*~*~
Cosette woke to the sound of distant gunshots. A few moments passed before she realized exactly what the sound implied. Marius! She jumped to her feet, and felt a soreness in her thighs which brought back the pain of the previous night. Looking over her dress, she saw that she was able to patch up the worst damage with one of her ribbons so that she would at least be decently covered. There were blood stains on her skirt, but nothing could be done about them. She nearly wept again in shame, but reminded herself that she must go to her beloved.
She ran through the streets of Paris towards the sound of the gunshots and finally arrived at the barricade, which was surrounded by soldiers. She tried to slip past them, but was caught. "But I must get to my love!" she cried as rough hands grabbed her.
"Your beloved?" laughed one of them.
"Let's see how beloved she is by him," suggested another, who cupped his hands around his mouth to shout, "You at the barricades! I have a wench here who says she belongs to one of you! Anyone want her? If not, she's dead." The first soldier shifted his gun towards her.
Seeing who it was, Enjolras paled and signaled to Bossuet to keep Marius from seeing.
"She is of no interest to us. Do what you will," he called, then whispered faintly, "Forgive me."
The soldier kept to his word, and everyone present turned his head away as the shot was fired. Silence reigned over the scene for a few dark moments. Then, as if summoned by her ghost, every dog, cat and bird in the city came and threw themselves at the soldiers surrounding the barricades. They fought so fiercely that those that could were forced to flee, and no other attack could be raised against this group which now had so formidable an ally. A great cheer arose from the barricades at the retreat, and the students danced and sang with joy.
Only Marius was not yet content. "Where's Cosette," he asked Enjolras, a sick feeling in his stomach. "Where did you leave her?"
The leader of the students only gestured to her broken corpse, which was now surrounded by birds singing a mournful dirge over her. "She saved the revolution," he murmured, as Marius broke down and wept.