I was looking through my story files yesterday, and I realized I had written mostly ficlets and no stories with chapters! The only multi-chapter stories I've written are really collections of, well, ficlets. And don't even mention my last attempt at multi-chaptered! I decided to try my hand at this for a few reasons: I have all the time in the world (school's out!), it would be a good exercise in patience for me, and I'm rather fond of this story idea. Enjoy!
Prologue
Jean Valjean watched his only daughter dart happily down the front steps and into the hall, nearly blowing over the statue of the Lord as it sat precariously on it's wooden perch. He heard her laughter as she attempted the complicated system of locks with which he had secured the door. Valjean heard her yell as she found the locks too difficult. Finally, she wrenched open the door and slammed it behind her. If Valjean had been going with her, he would not have permitted this method of closing the door- he wished to draw as little attention to his residence as possible- but the girl was alone for the very first time and inclined to go about things in her own way.
Perhaps it had been a mistake to send Cosette into Paris so soon by herself. Valjean knew that many gamins and gamines had been wandering about the city nearly their entire lives, but his Cosette was a special type of girl. She was very far from stupid- Valjean was amazed at the speed at which she read. Still, these books couldn't prepare Cosette for what lay beyond the Rue de Babylone. She read only "safe" novels and treatises on flora that Valjean passed along to her after first checking them over.
The girl was not stupid; the girl was innocent. The two are like night and day. They are night and day except for one unfortunate similarity: the stupid and the innocent are susceptible to trickery and smooth talking. Valjean could only pray that his daughter would be suddenly supplied with a sudden wealth of knowledge about who and what was dangerous for a delicate little flower like his rose of a Cosette.
At least she was out with a specific task. Cosette had been asked to deliver a piece of mail to a girl named Mlle. Ursula. Valjean had found the billet-doux in the letter-box the day before. He had thought it a mistake; the little family knew no one who might send them a letter. As a result, Valjean had placed the letter back in the box as soon as he read the name assuming the address to be on the other side. Who would send him a billet- doux? Valjean chuckled through his worries at the very idea.
He had it in his mind to take off after her and deliver it with her, or better yet send her home. Paris was no place for a girl so delicate. Valjean would have been on foot seconds after she left had it not been for Toussaint.
"F-forgive me if I'm out of p-place," she stuttered as Valjean paced at the window, watching Cosette become a speck in the distance. "B-but l- leave her b-be, s-sir."
It was unfortunate for Valjean that not only was Cosette was already so far gone that he would never be able to find her, but that Toussaint was right.
"S-she w-won't be y-yours forever."
This, being the prologue, is going to be much different from the other chapters. The others will be Cosette's viewpoint, and the style may be a little different. I'm going for something on the lighter side. Please don't get upset that I am referring to Cosette as Valjean's daughter. I know very well how it goes, but they have a relationship that's exactly the same as any normal loving father and daughter, so I think it fits. Thanks for reading!