Sorry for the long wait, but I hope I can make it up with a supersized chapter running 34 pages. I just really wanted to get through all of Javert and Adelaide's courtship so we can finally move on to the Javert and Enjolras relationship.
Before we start, I'd like to thank everyone who favourite and alerted me and my story, and especially those who took the time to give me a review. I'm always happy to read your reviews and hear what you liked, what you didn't, as well as criticism and concerns. I can only improve if you tell me what to improve upon. Additionally, if you send me a non-guest review and allow PMs, I try to always give you a response to thank you and answer what questions or concerns you may have.
There's just one guest review I received that I would like to address before we start. Les Gymnables, you were concerned about the use of modern language in the story. As a rule, I try to keep terms as authentic as possible, but every now and then something like the occasional use of okay will slip in. This is unintentional and if anyone catches an inaccuracy, please tell me. Somehow last chapter the term legit slipped in, and I had reread the thing about five times, as well as shown it to two other people. Since Les Gymnables pointed it out, it has since been corrected to the proper term of legitimate, and I thank you for informing me of that mistake. Additionally, every now and then I may use a term under the impression that the term is older than I expect. Again, please point these out. I want to give an enjoyable reading experience and the last thing I want is people getting jolted out of the story by blatant anachronisms. I know how horrible that is, like this one time I was reading a Pirates of the Caribbean story and someone received the gift of CDs. I stopped reading that story pretty quickly.
As for the church scene in this chapter, I figure the Javert and Adelaide would probably be Catholic, and although I used to attend a Catholic church, it's been a while and I'm sorry if there's any inaccuracies in the way service is held. Most of my source research is bits from the internet, influence from Pillars of the Earth and hazy memories from childhood.
So, again, if you find any concerns with the story, please inform me of them and I'll do my best to correct them… unless it's about courtship etiquette. After the chapter was posted I looked up 1800s courtship etiquette and came to the horrible realisation that half of the things Adelaide did last chapter would make society call her a whore. But I ask that you cut me some slack as the stuff I found was from British 1860s high society, and I think the Inspector's daughter living in 1809 Toulon would be held to less strict standards. Plus, it's Léonard's daughter, you think he cares?
Well, on with the story, and good news we get Enjolras by the end of the chapter (though, in all fairness, we already have two technically Enjolras characters in the story).
My Father's Shadow
Chapter Two
The Hope for Love
The wind whipped the drenching rain upon the prisoners' faces so hard, it was hard to tell if it was water falling from the sky, or blistering hail. What little clothes they wore were absolutely drenched, and there was no doubt there would be many a man in the prison hospital that night. Their muscles ached from the hard labour and their stomachs groaned from the meager diet of dried vegetables, most of which were beans, sloshing around with their small ration of wine and what scraps of meat they had been given.
It was truly hell on earth.
However, there was only one thing that made the situation tolerable for the less prisoners than slaves.
One of the guards was whistling.
It was the tune of their work song. Look down, look down, don't look them in the eye. Look down, look down, you're here until you die. There were more verses, each more morbid than the last, and it inspired no hope in the prisoners, but it set a rhythm for them to work to and helped pass the time.
Plus, it was downright hilarious when the first man caught the assistant guard whistling it.
"No god, above, and hell alone below," one of the men chanted as he worked with his comrades to haul the wreckage of the ship they had been given that day.
"Look down, look down, there's twenty years to go," was chanted back appropriately as Gérard Chevalier observed the prisoners, silently counting his section and giving extra attention to 24601 to make sure he didn't try anything again.
"I've done no wrong," chanted two men as with an unset schedule of who would sing what lines, sometimes more than one man would take a part. "Sweet Jesus hear my prayer."
A man next to one of the chanters nudged him, clearly the action was to correct the chanter and make sure he didn't do it again.
…Or to gesture off to the left of Chevalier.
"Look down, look down, sweet Jesus doesn't care."
Come to think of it, the more Chevalier looked around, the more of them were gesturing towards something off to his left.
"I know she'll wait, I know that she'll be true."
Chevalier took a glance to the man on his left and frowned at him.
"Look down, look down, they've all forgotten you."
It was impossible he could be cause of the distraction. He was one of the most obedient and formal officers in the Bagne. No, this must be a new form of distraction by the prisoners, plotting for one of their own to make an escape while the guards weren't paying attention.
"When I get free, you won't see me. Here for dust."
It was as he tried to figure out what exactly the prisoners were up to, that Chevalier heard the whistling.
"Look down, look down, you'll always be a slave."
With a hard set look on his face, Chevalier strode over to the man, who was still standing tall, obliviously whistling the work song.
"Look down, look down, you're standing-"
"Javert!"
The assistant guard snapped instantly into a salute.
"My office," Chevalier frowned at his assistant. "Now."
Javert kept his eyes set forward, arms folded behind his back, standing tall at attention as he heard the familiar sound of the door clicking shut and he waited for his commanding officer's orders on what to do next.
"Take a seat, Javert," Chevalier gestured to the empty chair and rounded to his proper side of the desk.
"Sir," Javert bowed his head as his boss took the seat across from the assistant guard and he desperately attempted to push from his head the thoughts that had been plaguing him so long.
"Javert," Chevalier said suddenly, "do you know the reason why we let the prisoners sing that song?"
"Oui, Monsieur," Javert nodded. "It's an appropriate rhythm that sets a productive work pace so that the prisoners-"
"Non," Chevalier cut him off sharply. "Do you know why we let the prisoners sing that song? Why not any other song? There are dozens of more appropriate songs with appropriate and effective work rhythms. So do you know why we let them sing that song?"
"Non, Monsieur."
"It's the lyrics. Look down; you'll always be a slave. Look down; you're standing in your grave. It allows them to sing their song, the song of angry men, yet at the same time it reminds them of their place in life. But do you remember what I told you about the song the first day you started working here?"
"That the song is true," Javert obediently recalled. "You must do as the song says and look down on them."
"But there's an even more important order in that song," Chevalier said, his hard gaze set upon his assistant. "Do you know what it is?"
Javert breathed deeply is almost what one might call a sigh, "Do not ever let them look you in the eye."
"Do not ever let them look you in the eye, and certainly never let them catch you whistling. Do you understand?"
"Oui, Monsieur," Javert bowed his head.
Chevalier stared at his assistant, reading and calculating, "Non. You still don't understand what I'm saying. Javert, do you know what the most important thing in the world is?"
Javert responded as politely as possible, "Monsieur, I could sit here all day and probably not guess what you believe to be the most important thing in the world is."
Chevalier stared at him and then simply said, "Hope."
"Hope?" Javert frowned.
"Hope. Too much of it people lose their minds, and push the limits too far. Not enough and people don't find any reason to live. You have new hope, hope for a possible future with the Chief Inspector's daughter, and hope for the possibly of that mysterious thing called love-"
"Pardon, Monsieur!" Javert objected, eyes going wide and gaze shifting away.
"Let me finish," Chevalier held up his hand. "They sing, because they have hope, and it's our job to ensure that they keep that hope. But it's also our job to ensure that the song of angry men stays just a song."
"Pardon, Monsieur," Javert bowed his head. "I will deal with this issue on my own time. I will no longer allow any worry or plan regarding Mademoiselle Enjolras to pass through my mind on duty, nor will I… continue to whistle."
"Alright, but let's get one thing straight here, Javert." Every word out of Chevalier's mouth was cold and sharp, "Je m'en fou about your love life. You can go after the Inspector's daughter, or whatever putain on the street that strikes your fancy. I don't care. Just get your head out of your cul, stop the whistling and do your job before I make you find a new one. Comprenez-vous?"
"Oui, Monsieur."
Javert promised not to worry or plan anything regarding Adelaide, and he certainly was going to stop the whistling.
But he never promised to stop thinking about her.
That was just impossible.
It was impossible for Adelaide to stop thinking of Javert.
She replayed their encounters together over and over in her mind. The strength of his arm as he caught her from falling in the marketplace. The touch of his hand, guiding her to the proper stars as they gazed at the night sky. The tickle of his stubble as he placed that gentle kiss upon her hand. There was no denying it, she had finally fallen for someone, and dare she even say it, she was downright smitten.
Not that she told her father. He'd never let her hear the end of it.
"My, my, don't we look nice?" Léonard's voice pulled his daughter out of her thoughts as he hung by her bedroom doorframe.
"Well, it is Dimanche, I have to wear my best to church," Adelaide primped her hair, observing herself in the small looking glass her father had given her for one of her birthdays many years ago.
"Oui, I know that much, but, uh," Léonard eyed her outfit, "any reason you picked that particular dress?"
Adelaide blushed and looked down at her outfit. She was a lucky to own three dresses she could wear to church on Sundays. There was a cream coloured one, a pale purple one, and the one she currently was wearing.
"Nope. Now could you help me do up the back?" Adelaide lifted her hair and turned her head towards her father.
"Sure thing."
Léonard crossed over to his daughter and started working the laces with hands well practiced from dressing a daughter without a mother's help. Truth be told, the first ten or so years of her life Adelaide had often looked a bit of a mess. That's not to say Léonard couldn't dress his daughter because he was a man, and men don't know how to dress women. The reason Léonard struggled was that as a man, he hadn't learned how to work laces and buttons, except when he had been undressing his wife and that was only in reverse.
Adelaide let out a little gasp as the Inspector pulled her laces to their usually tightness, and the suddenness of the movement cut her breath a little short.
"Wait," Adelaide said as Léonard started tying the laces, "could you… Maybe make them a little tighter today?"
Léonard raised a brow at his daughter and smirked, "Like this?"
Adelaide yelped as he yanked the laces.
"A… little… less… Père," Adelaide gasped struggling behind her back to loosen the laces.
"Alright," Léonard chuckled slackening the laces so that they were tighter than normal, but his daughter could still breathe, "but tightening your laces isn't going to make him think you're more attractive."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Adelaide feigned ignorance as she rechecked her appearance in the mirror.
"Of course." Léonard began tying the laces securely. "Remind me, isn't Monsieur Javert's favorite colour blue?"
Adelaide looked down at the fabric of her dress.
The blue fabric.
"I haven't the fuzziest," Adelaide replied simply looking back at her father through the mirror.
"Uh huh," Léonard rolled his eyes knotting the laces and starting to work on the buttons. "I do recall that his Dimanche best the same colour as this dress."
Adelaide looked down and muttered, "Actually this is powder blue, Javert wears navy blue."
"Ah ha!" Léonard exclaimed. "So you are interested in Javert!"
"Keep it down!" Adelaide snapped.
"Yes, because there are so many other people in this house," Léonard rolled his eyes doing up the last button on his daughter's dress. "Ribbon?"
"Wardrobe," Adelaide pointed to the armoire.
"So," Léonard walked over and opened the free standing cupboard withdrawing the medium blue sash that completed his daughter's Dimanche best, "should I be expecting a request to court anytime soon?"
Adelaide sighed fastening her rosary around her neck, "I don't think so. Javert is not the kind of man-"
"Who goes after a woman. Oui, I heard you last time," Léonard wrapped the sash around his daughter's waist. "However, due to him showing up at our home three seconds after you saying that, I think I would have to disagree with that statement."
"Père," Adelaide sighed.
"Non, listen," Léonard tied the sash into a bow on the back of the dress, "I like him, and I think you do too. You could do a lot worse than Gabriel Javert. He'll protect, care and provide for you, and I know he'll make you happy. Despite his standing, he's one of the best men in this town, and if he's the one you wish to wed, I'm more than glad to grant my permission."
"Merci, Father," Adelaide blushed and having finished being dressed, turned to face her father. "But let's stop listening for wedding bells just yet, I only ran into him at the market two weeks ago."
"Fair enough, but just so you know, I'm rooting for you."
Adelaide smiled fondly at her father, "Merci, Père."
"Now," Léonard put an arm around her shoulders, "church. Allez!"
Going to church was Adelaide's most hated part of the week. It was no reflection of her religious devotion; she was as religious as expected of a respectable young woman in the early 1800s. Additionally, Adelaide was one of those women who would be satisfied wearing casual garb, but jumped at the chance to dress up nicely for formal occasions, and Sundays were the perfect excuse to do so. The thing that made Adelaide hate going to church was that it was the perfect occasion for unwanted potential suitors to socialize with her. In recent years it had gotten quite bad and she more often than not was turning down requests to court, than actually praising God.
"Want me to walk you in?" Léonard asked as their carriage came to a stop in front of the church.
"I'll be fine, you go mingle," Adelaide replied as she glanced out the window, searching through the crowd and zoning in on one particular person.
"Sometimes I hate being Chief Inspector," Léonard groaned. "They make you socialize."
"Allez," Adelaide gave her father a playful swat.
"Oui, Mademoiselle," Léonard gave her a mock salute and opened the carriage door. Politely, he hopped out first to hold open the door for his daughter and give her a hand coming out. "So, are you looking for anyone in particular?"
"Of course," Adelaide smiled, locking eyes with her desired companion.
"Do I know them?" Léonard teased searching the crowd for his daughter's potential suitor. There was no way after such a confession that morning that he was going to let her live this down.
"You are well acquainted and dare I even say fond of them."
"Let me guess, they have blonde hair, blue eyes and are wearing navy blue this morning?"
"Right on all accounts," Adelaide nodded to the subject of the father and daughter's little guessing game, signalling them to approach the pair.
Léonard scanned the direction he daughter was staring, "I don't see Monsieur Javert."
Adelaide smirked at her father, "Who said anything about Monsieur Javert?"
"Addie!" squealed a familiar voice and a blur of blonde and blue pelted into the Inspector's daughter.
Léonard chuckled and shook his head fondly at the sight, "I should have known."
Let it not be said that Adelaide Enjolras had no friends. Whether we acknowledge it or not, all persons on this earth cannot help but make friends during their lifetime. It is one of those things that make us fundamentally human. Adelaide Enjolras was no exception to this rule.
Adelaide was noted for her curious choice of companions, as well as her tendency to only keep close an exclusive few. Her most prominent companion before her marriage to Javert was a young woman by the name of Carine LaFleur. One year Adelaide's junior, the overly excited blonde was the perpetually happy daughter of the town physician and midwife, with connections on her mother's side ensuring that she was considered high society, but among its lower ranks.
"Oh, Addie! Is it true what they're saying?" Carine asked with her usual rapid and slightly pitchy tone practically jumping on her friend not caring that she was ruffling her navy toned dress. Though barely standing at five feet tall, Carine had enough personality to ensure when she entered a room, she was noticed. In general she reminded Adelaide of a jackrabbit. "Come on, tell me!"
"So, I'll leave you girls to chat," Léonard knew when to take his leave. "I'll see you inside Chérie."
"Socialize!" Adelaide called after him as he disappeared into the crowd.
"Oh, come now!" Carine turned her friend to face her. "Is it true?"
"Is what true? You're going to have to be more specific," Adelaide sighed in annoyance. Her compliant wasn't without reason; Carine LaFleur was the town's biggest gossip on par with that of a stereotypical pastor's wife.
Carine raised a brow, "About you and Monsieur Javert."
Adelaide blanched.
"What about Monsieur Javert?" Adelaide practically squeaked.
"Well, first that he walked with you in the market, then that you were sighted together at the Renault wedding, and rumour has it that he dined at your home the day after the wedding," Carine seemed absolutely giddy at the news.
Adelaide looked away awkwardly, "Has anyone ever told you that you gossip too much?"
"All the time," Carine waved off. "Now tell me, is it true?"
Adelaide sighed, "Alright… it's true."
Carine yelped happily in response and clapped her hands together, "Details!"
"I'm not giving you details about my interactions with Monsieur Javert, in the middle of a crowd!" Adelaide objected.
"Would you rather in the church?"
Adelaide's eyes went wide, "You wouldn't dare."
"Wouldn't I?" Carine smirked.
Adelaide barely had time to react before she found herself being dragged through the crowd by the small, but surprisingly strong, physician's daughter.
"Carine, let go!" Adelaide struggled against Carine's vice grip on her arm.
Carine didn't even look back at her friend as she pushed her way through the crowd, "I offered to let you do this the easy way."
"No, you didn't!" Adelaide replied.
"Right, I didn't," Carine frowned. After a moment of thought, she just shrugged, "Well at least I saved us some time. Pardon moi! Coming through!"
Reaching the entrance of the church, Carine released Adelaide and the girls ducked into the almost completely empty church, hastily crossing themselves before entering the sanctuary.
"Now," Carine settled them in front of a pillar with her back to the pillar and Adelaide facing her, "tell me everything."
Adelaide took a glance around the room; there was no one in the church that she would care if they overheard the girls' conversation.
"Alright," Adelaide kept her voice low. "I ran into him at the market a couple of weeks ago and he offered to escort me home because he made me spill my groceries-"
"How-"
"I use ran into, in its literal sense."
"Fair enough," Carine nodded. "And the Renault wedding?"
"I made my break for it and ran into him, so we talked for a little while before Père said it was time to go," Adelaide explained. "But I forgot my wrap and he found it, so he came to the house the next night to return it and Père invited him to stay for dinner."
"And that's it?" Carine asked, unable to suppress the disappointed look from her face.
"Well, he also helped catch 24601 when he broke out again," Adelaide replied.
"24601 broke out again?" Carine paused, and then shook her head, "Never mind. So, what's going to happen with Javert and yourself?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing," Adelaide repeated.
Carine frowned thoughtfully for a few minutes, "But you want more to happen with him, right?"
"She wants more to happen with whom?" a voice came from behind Adelaide.
"Jérémie!" the girls exclaimed, turning to face the new addition to their conversation.
Twenty-five year old Jérémie Dubois was another one of the few that could be counted among Adelaide's friends. He came from high connections and good money with a mother from Parisian stock who had decided at a young age that she would dictate every moment of her son's life.
Luckily, due to spending time with girls like Adelaide and Carine, he had long ago learned how to bend the rules without actually breaking them.
And he had also learned how to tell when the girls were up to something.
His green eyes darted suspiciously between the two, "I know better than anyone that you two whispering behind pillars never leads to anything good."
"Says the man who's more often behind the pillars with us," Carine shot back.
Jérémie smiled at the blonde, "Indeed."
Adelaide discreetly glanced over Jérémie's shoulder and muttered, "Votre Mére."
Without hesitation, Jérémie grabbed Adelaide's hand, bowed and kissed it just as Madame Eleanor Dubois caught sight of her son.
"Bonjour Mademoiselle Enjolras," Eleanor warmly greeted the recipient of her son's hand kiss.
Coming from good connections in Paris, and having lost her husband four years past, Eleanor had her sights set high when looking for a daughter-in-law. And she wanted one soon. Over the years Jérémie had been forced to court almost every girl of high society, and had even been briefly engaged to one of the Renault daughters.
"Bonjour Madame Dubois," Adelaide bowed her head. "Jérémie was just telling me about…"
Adelaide looked to Jérémie for help, but he frowned, being unable to think of a good topic.
"Your new horses," Carine supplied. "The grey ones, Camargue thoroughbreds, oui?"
Sometimes it was a good thing being best friends with a gossip.
"Oui," Jérémie nodded. "That's exactly what I was telling Adelaide about."
"Oh?" Eleanor smiled. "Perhaps you'd like to go riding them with her sometime?"
Adelaide awkwardly looked away from the group; it was easy to feel the tension. It was thanks to Adelaide and Carine's intervention that the Renault engagement had fallen through, and both fiancé and fiancée were thankful. But Adelaide and Carine were pretty sure Eleanor had learned of their involvement, because in one fell swoop they were both suffering for it now.
Eleanor had set her sights on Adelaide for a daughter-in-law.
But Jérémie had only ever held eyes for Carine; eyes that were returned.
"Maman," Jérémie buried a hand into his brunette locks.
"Pardon, but I think it's absurd to keep secrets. Now, Adelaide," Eleanor took Adelaide's hand in one of her own, and one of Jérémie's hands in the other, "I know you have other offers, but let's stop being silly. You and my Jérémie are such close friends, and if I may be bold, I think you'd make a great match."
Gently Eleanor placed the two hands together, and placed her hand on top to hold them together.
Jérémie couldn't look Carine in the eye, but Adelaide could, and as Carine stared sorrowfully at the floor, a tear threatening to slip out, all Adelaide saw was Carine's heartbreak.
What she didn't see was Javert's sorrowful look as he observed the group.
"Don't worry, his world will go on turning if she rejects him," came a voice from beside him. "They're better as friends and she knows it."
Javert bowed to the man, "Inspector Enjolras."
"Monsieur Javert," Léonard greeted back. "So, I hear talk of you having certain interests with my daughter. Are they true?"
Javert looked away, "Your daughter keeps fine company."
"That's not what I asked."
The assistant guard looked over at the little group, Eleanor still holding Jérémie's hand to Adelaide's.
"Your daughter is a fascinating woman," Javert replied. "She is kind, understanding, holds great conversation, is a wonderful cook-"
"Get to the point," Léonard pushed.
Javert took a deep breath, "And if I were to see her in a more than sociable fashion, I would not be averse to it."
Léonard stared at the man, "Look, since you're not going to just say it, I'm going to ask. Do you want to court my daughter?"
Javert looked to the floor, unable to meet the eye of his desire's father, "If they were welcome, those would be my intentions toward your daughter."
Gathering his courage, Javert glanced up at the Chief Inspector, bracing himself for whatever response he would get.
Of course he was smirking.
"I knew it," Léonard simply said. "Well, now that that's settled-"
"Pardon Monsieur, but what do you mean settled?" Javert frowned in confusion.
"It's simple; it appears that my daughter returns your affections, so all you need to do is ask her for her permission to court-"
"Not yours?" Javert asked in confusion.
"You get mine if you get hers," Léonard replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go save my daughter from Dubois. Bonne chance, I'm rooting for you."
Javert was left standing there both delighted and utterly confused.
"I know you would be happy together," Eleanor continued her praise of Jérémie and Adelaide as a couple, finally removing her hand from theirs.
"Merci, Madame," Adelaide quickly tore her hand from Jérémie's, "but I must disagree. Thank you for your interest, but… I'm afraid-"
"We're going to hold up mass," everyone turned to see Léonard approach the group. Swiftly the officer took his daughter's arm in his own and kindly, but authoritatively said, "Perhaps we could continue this discussion at a later time?"
"Of course," Eleanor glanced over at Carine and frowned, Adelaide was her last chance at an influential wife for her son. It wasn't that she had anything against the girl personally, well, maybe her insufferable gossiping, but she just wanted something more for her son. "Come Jérémie, mass is starting."
"Mademoiselles. Inspector," Jérémie bowed to the group, took his mother's arm and left.
"I should head off too," Carine said once Jérémie had disappeared with his mother. "My family will be looking for me. Addie, you have to tell me more about Javert afterwards."
"Well she may have some new developments to report soon," Léonard gave in to his unfortunate habit of encouraging Carine's gossiping tongue.
"Oh?" Carine asked, eyes lighting up.
"Oui, oh?" Adelaide frowned at her father.
"I was going to tell you later, but maybe now might be a good time," Léonard replied. "I just had a little chat with our favorite assistant to the guard, and he's expressed interest in courtship."
Carine took a great breath, but found Adelaide's hand slapped over her mouth before she could get out a single word.
"Truly?" Adelaide looked carefully at her father. "This isn't something to jest about Father."
"Really and truly. He's just over there," Léonard nodded to Javert.
Adelaide couldn't help but smile when her eyes met Javert's, and her heart fluttered lightly in her chest. She wouldn't just yet call it love, but there was something between them. Javert bowed his head respectfully at her, a slight smile plastered upon his face.
Suddenly he frowned.
Her current position finally registered in Adelaide's head.
"Sorry," Adelaide removed her hand from her friend's mouth. "But not a word."
"Addie," Carine smiled looking between her friend and Javert, "my lips are sealed."
Carine dashed off towards her family's usual spot and Adelaide sighed staring after her friend.
"Oh great, everyone's going to know by the end of mass," Adelaide groaned.
"Now Addie, even Carine isn't that good," Léonard laughed taking her arm. "Come, mass is starting."
Adelaide walked with her father toward their usual spot, near the front of the church with the other elite. She couldn't help but look back towards Javert as he took his place in the back with those of low class.
Neither of them could stop smiling.
Mass this week was going to be long.
Had you asked Adelaide what the sermon had been about that week, she wouldn't have been able to answer. Throughout the entire service, Adelaide attempted to casually look back over at Javert, seeing if she could catch his eye. No doubt Javert was as inattentive to the sermon as her, as more often than not when Adelaide looked back, she would catch him looking back at her. With a smile plastered on her face, these encounters would result in Javert smiling back and nodding, or her averting her gaze as she blushed, pushed back a lock of hair and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.
Adelaide couldn't help but wonder if exchanging significant glances with a man during church service counted as a sin.
Still, it didn't stop her from doing it.
She tried not to look too eager when the priest said the final amen and the congregation began exited en masse.
"Do I look alright? How's my hair? Is my dress tight enough? Oh, maybe I should have worn the purple dress," Adelaide fidgeted as her father led her down the aisle, among the crowd, towards the exit.
"You're fine," Léonard scanned the crowd for Javert. "Honestly, I don't think you could get any more beautiful."
"You're my father," Adelaide rolled her eyes, blinking as they stepped outside and were blinded by the sudden bout of sunlight, "you have to say that."
"Doesn't make it any less true." Léonard zoned in on the assistant guard. "There he is, now's your chance."
Adelaide stopped and turned to face her father; they were a little more than a foot from her intended suitor, but her terror was setting in fast.
"I can't," Adelaide said.
"Can't what?" Léonard frowned
"I don't think I can do this," Adelaide confessed. "Think about it, it would never work. The class difference, his gruffness-"
Léonard took a look over to Javert, who had yet to spot the pair, and the Inspector sighed.
"Leave it to me to have to give you that one final shove," Léonard replied.
Adelaide's eyes flew wide, "You wouldn't."
Without any further warning, Léonard suddenly grabbed his daughter by the shoulders, spun her toward Javert, and quite literally shoved her toward the assistant guard.
Javert never saw it coming.
For the second time in two weeks, Javert found himself on the ground with the Chief Inspector's daughter.
"Pardon Monsieur!" Adelaide was flushed with embarrassment as Javert gathered his senses. "A thousand times pardon! My father… Well he decided I quite literally needed a push for encouragement."
"Oh no, allow me," Javert stood and offered his hand. "My only concern is if you were hurt."
"Oh, don't worry, I'm fine. I've had worse," Adelaide grasped Javert's hand and he helped her up. Brushing off her dress, Adelaide continued, "In fact I've had worse today, what with Carine LaFleur dragging me across the church yard and Eleanor Dubois crushing my hand into her son's. It's apparently manhandle Adelaide day."
"Well then, I hope I haven't manhandled you?" Javert smiled slightly.
"Are you… Teasing me?" Adelaide gasped in mock horror, though with some legitimate shock.
"Perhaps I've been spending too much time with you," Javert shrugged. "Though you never answered my question."
"You might have manhandled me." Adelaide raised a brow, "But who said I was averse to such a thing?"
Javert stared at her for a minute, a small smile playing on his lips. Suddenly, catching sight of something behind her, his mouth dropped into a frown and he averted his gaze. Adelaide mirrored his frown and looked behind her: there was a myriad of people staring at the pair, most of whom were whispering and sending judgemental looks at socialization among such class differences. Catching sight of Carine among the crowd, Adelaide sent a pleading look, praying her friend could do something to mix the matter.
"Did you hear about Felicienne Lafontaine?" Carine asked aloud to no one in particular, distracting the nearby onlookers to give Javert and Adelaide a smidge of privacy.
For the second time that day, it paid for Adelaide to be best friends with the town gossip.
Adelaide cleared her throat, "There, dealt with."
"Tell your friend merci on my behalf," Javert lightly chuckled. "Now, what was I saying?"
"Something about us spending time together?" Adelaide played.
"Right, um," Javert averted his gaze, clearing his throat. "Well, I was thinking, that maybe…"
"Oui?" Adelaide softly pushed.
Javert took a deep breath, "Adelaide. Over the past two weeks we have interacted on several occasions. It is through these interactions that I have learned that you are not only a, a beautiful young woman, but a bright, caring, humorous, intelligent companion, and an extremely good cook…"
Adelaide waited for a moment before saying, "Merci Monsieur, but your point is?"
The assistant guard gathered his courage, and with his gaze affixed to the ground, continued, "You are the most enjoyable company I have ever kept, and I was wondering if… If I maybe I could keep company with you in a less sociable, more private fashion?"
Adelaide frowned, daring not to hope, "Meaning?"
Javert paused trying to think of the best words but somehow ended up just blurting out, "May I court you?"
Almost wincing, Javert dared to look up and met her eyes; a smile was playing on her lips.
"Monsieur-"
"Mademoiselle Adelaide!"
Without any warning, Adelaide suddenly found herself spun around, arm lifted and hand being kissing by a familiar face.
"Louis!" Adelaide tried to gather her senses.
Louis Bélanger was the result of when the richest man in town marries the prettiest women in town; and he was hoping for history to repeat itself. Handsome, respectable, rich, spoiled and stubborn, Louis was one of Adelaide's most aggressive suitors and seemed completely unable to take a hint. However, it was due to his well-known aggressive nature and ill-temper that Adelaide had never technically rejected Louis, and had no plans to until she was safely courting someone else. And that someone had to be someone who was not intimidated by Louis' wealth and status.
And lucky for her, she had her sights set on exactly that type of man.
"Mademoiselle Adelaide," Louis released her hand, "it is good I found you, I wanted to talk to you."
"It better be important," Adelaide crossed her arms, "I was in the middle of a conversation."
"Well I'm sure the rabble won't mind." Louis looked at Javert, "Would you excuse us?"
Javert clenched his fist to his side, but gave a bow and said through gritted teeth, "Of course."
"Not," Adelaide grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving. The man gave her a confused frown, but she just looked at him, then back to the interrupter, "Of course not. You interrupted our conversation, so you don't get to tell us what to do."
"You know, you use the term us quite freely," Louis said.
"Trust me, I don't," Adelaide glared, still gripping Javert's arm tightly. "Now what do you want? And it better be good or I swear I'm not responsible for my actions."
After seven years of putting up with the unwanted advances of Louis Bélanger, we can excuse Adelaide if she was a little rude… and slightly violent.
Louis frowned, looking between the Inspector's daughter and the assistant guard, especially where her hand was placed, "I was going to ask if you would like to accompany me home for Sunday luncheon and perhaps going for a ride afterward?"
Adelaide stared blankly at him, "You interrupted by conversation to ask me to lunch?"
"Yes," Louis nodded, self-assured.
The Inspector's daughter looked up at Javert.
"Let me at him," she released his arm, only for Javert to quickly pull her back.
Louis looked at the Inspector's daughter and her companion, a fake smiled plastered on his face, almost like he had a mental block covering Javert from view. He barely considered the guard human, given his standing, so he thought no threat on the part of the gypsy bastard, but he did worry about Adelaide's feelings, she was a wildcard.
"Mademoiselle Enjolras," Louis barely took in the fact that Javert was the only thing holding Adelaide back, "for years we have danced over the delicate subject of courtship, and you have negated any form of rejection. Therefore I believe there is only one way to deal with this situation; to ask you plainly. Adelaide Jacqueline Enjolras, may I have the honour of courting you?"
Javert let go of her arm.
"Louis," Adelaide frowned. "I-"
"Now, before you say anything, I have something for you," Louis reached into his pocket and held out his hand to Adelaide.
"Mon Dieu," Adelaide whispered.
Sitting in his palm was a silver locket with the word Adelaide engraved on the front.
"It's real silver, and look," Louis opened the locket, "I had a miniature portrait of you done for it."
Adelaide stared at the necklace and the miniature of her reflection gazing up at her. It was beautiful… and expensive. She was entranced by it; maybe she had been too harsh on him, after all how many guys would have something so beautiful and expensive made just for her with no guarantee that she would make any commitments to them? Maybe she-
Javert cleared his throat.
"I guess I should leave the two of you," Javert tried to withhold the disappointment from his voice. He bowed to the two of them, "Monsieur Bélanger. Mademoiselle Enjolras."
Adelaide looked wide eyed between the two of them.
"Wait!"
Javert stopped dead in his tracks.
Adelaide turned to her gift giver and said, "Louis, it is a wonderful gift, and lunch would be nice, but…"
"But?" Louis asked, still holding out the necklace.
Adelaide took a deep breath, "But I'm already courting someone else."
Louis eyes went wide, "You are?"
"You are?" Javert repeated, how did he not know she was courting someone?
"Yes," Adelaide placed a hand on Javert's arm and smiled. "I am."
As the implication of her words dawned upon Javert, a smile formed upon his face and then he gently took her arm in his like he had the day he walked her home.
Louis just stared at the pair in shock, hand snapping shut over the necklace, "The gypsy bastard? You choose him? I thought the rumors were just the product of that gossiping little snit being bored."
The Inspector's daughter placed a gentle hand upon the formation of her suitor's clenched fist, willing him not to lose her temper, nor for her to lose her own.
Adelaide glared at Louis, ignoring the whispers and pointing caused by her holding the arm of Javert and proclaiming him as her suitor, "Calling my best friend a snit, isn't going to help anything, and calling my suitor a gypsy bastard, isn't going to change his status… Being my suitor, that is."
"And you call me a status chaser," Louis jeered at Adelaide, shoving the necklace back into his pocket while glaring at Javert, a gaze that was mirrored.
"I'm not chasing after a status," Javert coolly replied.
Louis laughed, "Oh, I think you're chasing after something quite different."
"And I think it's time for you to go," a strong hand clasped his shoulder.
Louis turned and was met face to face with none other than Léonard Enjolras himself.
"Oh, there you are Père," Adelaide smirked, tucking herself further into Javert, who was looking quite proud and pleased.
"Oui, Darling, and I see everything went fine you two," Léonard's hand was still clasping Louis' shoulder.
"Oh, definitely," Adelaide grinned looking up at Javert, who smiled at her.
"Monsieur Javert," Léonard said, and the assistant guard looked to his beloved's father. "Would you like to join us for lunch? Adelaide always makes too much."
"I get it, Père," Adelaide groaned, "I'll work on portion control."
"Nonsense," Léonard shook his head, "better too much than not enough. So, Javert, what do you say?"
"Only if you could put up Gymont," Javert replied, "we weren't planning on any stopovers, and thus are unprepared."
"Of course, your horse can stay in the stable with Philippe," Léonard chuckled. "Why don't you and Adelaide go get them?"
"Oui, Monsieur." Javert turned to Adelaide, "Shall we?"
Adelaide smiled radiantly at Javert, "We shall."
With that, Adelaide and Javert turned and began to walk arm and arm toward the stable not far off from the church, where Monsieur LeBeau generously stabled some of the congregation's horses during mass. The pair was met with many points and whispers, but they didn't care, they were just happy to be together.
"At least he'll be off the damn whistling," Gérard Chevalier muttered to his wife as the pair passed.
"Well, Maman," Jérémie and his mother watched the pair walk by, "there goes the last high status woman in this town."
Eleanor sighed heavily, "Fine, you can be with Mademoiselle LaFleur."
"Merci, Maman," Jérémie kissed his mother on the cheek and dashed off into the crowd, no doubt looking for Carine.
Léonard walked up to the widow and patted her on the shoulder, watching as Jérémie shared the news with his beloved, "Kids."
Eleanor shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips, "Tell me about it."
"It's called a wedding ring?" Adelaide asked, observing the jeweled band on Carine's finger.
"Oui, they're all the rage these days," the new Madame Dubois beamed, trying to find the best light to make the ring glitter. "You've never heard of them?"
"Well, I know about love tokens," Adelaide replied. "And my father gave my mother a ring as a token for their engagement-"
"Oh, the silver band with the sapphire and the two small diamonds on either side?" Carine asked.
Adelaide frowned in confusion, "You know about my mother's ring?"
"Cherie, I know about everything in this town," Carine patted her friend's arm. "Speaking of, have you heard? The butcher is sleeping with the baker's wife."
Adelaide rolled her eyes, "So how was England?"
"Beautiful, it was a wonderful honeymoon, but we'll talk about that later," Carine waved off. "Non, what I want to talk about is when I'll be walking down the aisle again."
Adelaide frowned and cocked her head, "Didn't you just marry Jérémie last month? Mon Dieu! There's nothing wrong with him, is there?"
"Non, non," Carine reassured, "Jérémie is fine. Non, what I was talking about is when do I get to walk down the aisle as your bridesmaid?"
Adelaide flushed and looked to the ground, "Mon Dieu, Carine, you have no tact."
"And you, Adelaide, spend too much time with Monsieur Javert. You're dodging my eye worse than him in a confession box," Carine laughed. "Now come on, tell me, you've been courting since April, surely he's made his intentions clear by now?"
"Carine, he hasn't even kissed me yet," Adelaide replied, "he certainly hasn't made clear any intentions."
"Really?" Carine frowned. "After eight months, he still hasn't kissed you? Huh, maybe he doesn't have those intentions."
Adelaide gritted her teeth, "He's kissed me on the hand and the cheek-"
"Oh, don't let your father find out," Carine sarcastically cut off.
"He has intentions!" Adelaide snapped, and then paused. "... I think. He's just very strict when it comes to propriety."
Carine smirked, "Must drive you insane."
"Oh, Dieu, all the time," Adelaide laughed. "But I l-like him, and I'm sure he reciprocates those feelings, so we'll have to see."
"Well, maybe I'll have a talk with him at the Renault New Year's ball next week," Carine replied, smiling at her friend's stumble over the word like. "He's attending, oui?"
"Oui," Adelaide frowned, "but if you do talk to him about this, I make no promise not to break every bone in your arm."
"Ҫa craint that your father is the Chief Inspector," Carine crossed her arms, Léonard had taught Adelaide self-defence at a young age.
"And ҫa craint that your father is the town physician and could set that arm before my point is made," Adelaide smirked.
Carine grinned and shook her head, "We're insane, aren't we?"
Adelaide laughed, "All the best people are. Now, allez, tell me about England."
Knock, knock.
"Entrer," Léonard called, not looking up from his paperwork as his reading glasses sat perched on the end of his nose. The only thing worse about being Chief Inspector than the socialization was the paperwork.
The door clicked open and Léonard glanced up.
"Javert," he frowned as his daughter's suitor bowed, the assistant guard holding his hat to his side.
"Bonjour Inspector Enjolras," Javert greeted. "I know you're still on duty, but I was wondering if I may speak with you for a minute?"
"Of course, take a seat," Léonard gestured to the seat across from his desk.
"Merci," Javert slightly bowed again before taking his seat.
Léonard removed his reading glasses, folded them up and shoved both glasses and paperwork into the top drawer of his desk. His office, and precinct in general, wasn't the tidiest, though it still ran rather efficiently.
"So," Léonard turned back to the assistant guard, "what do you wish to speak about?"
"Your daughter, Monsieur," Javert looked down.
Léonard frowned, "If you're letting her go, I suggest you declare these intentions to her, and not I, less you wish to maintain the ability to produce children."
Javert laughed, "It is nothing of the sort."
"Then what is it?" Léonard asked.
"Well, as you know, Adelaide and I-"
"If I already know it, why are you telling me it?"
Javert blinked, "Fair enough. Monsieur, your daughter is the most amazing woman I have ever met, and these past eight months have been pure heaven. But I fear, I am not able to maintain my current relationship with your daughter."
"And why's that?" Léonard frowned.
"Because I wish for her as my own," Javert confessed, "exclusively."
Léonard's brows knitted together, "Monsieur, what are you saying?"
"Monsieur, I respect you highly, and your daughter even more so," Javert replied. "Therefore, I am here to seek your permission to ask your daughter for her hand. And I know, it's probably the same answer as when I wished to court her, that if she gives me her permission, I receive yours, but etiquette dictates that I ask you first. And more importantly, Monsieur, I ask you for your permission, because I genuinely wish to receive your approval to take your daughter as my wife."
Léonard sat there, hands folded, staring at the younger man, saying nothing.
"Do you know what my wife's maiden name was?" Léonard suddenly asked.
Javert blinked in confusion, "Uh, non, Monsieur."
"Astier," Léonard replied. "Do you have a token to present to my daughter?"
Javert frowned, not following the line of questioning so much that he didn't even look away with embarrassment, "Unfortunately not, but I'm hoping to save enough money to present her with one by the time we wed. Not to mention, I do have a home, and a horse, and a steady profession to provide for your daughter, were we to marry."
"Uh huh," Léonard nodded. The Inspector suddenly stood and walked over to a cabinet in the corner of the room. Fetching a key from the ring on his belt, he opened the top drawer and began rummaging through it. "My daughter told me that you have an interest in stars, correct?"
"In an astronomical way," Javert replied knowing his mother's reputation, "nothing to do with divination."
"Uh huh," Léonard nodded. "You know, I was once in your position, sweating my way through a father's summation of myself as son-in-law material. Now I'm not one hundred percent sure if it's true, but my wife, Jacqueline, told me told me that her last name, Astier, came from the root word of aster, which means star. So when my daughter told me that the man she was courting had an interest in stars, I said to myself, now that can't be a coincidence."
"Monsieur?" Javert frowned, utterly confused.
"Jacqueline Astier," Léonard withdrew a small box from the drawer, shut the drawer and returned to his seat. "You know what helped me win her?"
"Non, Monsieur," Javert replied.
"This token," Léonard opened the box to reveal a small silver ring.
"It's impressive Monsieur," Javert swallowed, it was but another reminder of things he could not provide for Adelaide. Louis Bélanger had not given up on his chase for Adelaide, and while she always turned the man down, Javert had seen that locket one too many times for his liking in the past eight months.
"That's real silver, a mid-clarity blue sapphire, and two small diamonds, the karats of which I'm not going to mention. See, I wasn't always as well off as now." Léonard withdrew the ring from the box and turned it to show Javert the inside of the band behind the stones, "But what showed her father I was serious, was this."
Engraved on the inside of the ring were the letters J A, inside the shape of a heart.
"See, it stood for Jacqueline Astier, but now it can stand for something else," Léonard returned the ring to its box. "It can stand for Javert and Adelaide. Now, I know your first name is Gabriel, but still, it's a nice sentiment. So if you want to marry my daughter, promise me just one thing."
"Anything," Javert nodded.
"Promise to love her, to protect her, to provide for her," Léonard set the box in front of Javert. "And most importantly, promise me that you'll give her, her mother's ring."
Javert carefully took the box and looked at the ring, absolutely in disbelief that Léonard would entrust something so important to his family, to the assistant guard, "I promise Monsieur."
"Now, come on," Léonard laughed, "enough of this Monsieur business. We're going to be family soon; you don't have to call me Père or anything like that, but at least call me Léonard."
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Javert smiled, "she hasn't said oui yet."
"Oh, she will," Léonard replied. "Now, do you have any idea how you're going to propose?"
"I can't believe my father actually did that," Adelaide laughed as she and Javert were finally able to sneak off during the Renault New Year's ball, back to the spot where they had stargazed back in April. "I mean Louis was a little out of line trying to cut in on you dancing with me, but did Père really have to twist his arm behind his back?"
"Your father is a little extreme," Javert shook his head, remembering the look on Bélanger's face when the Chief Inspector had suddenly grabbed him from behind.
"A little?" Adelaide scoffed.
"Besides," Javert continued, "everyone knows that he's been attempting to court, what is it? Mademoiselle Gillenormand in Paris?"
Adelaide laughed, "Alright, you have been spending far too much time with Carine LaFleur, I mean Dubois. Am I ever going to get used to saying that?"
"Well, change is something that takes time to get used to," Javert felt the outline of the ring box in his pocket. "Remember our first night out here together?"
"Oui," Adelaide sighed, tucking herself into his arms and looking up at the sky, "and you showed me how to find Polaris. It's that one right?"
Javert laughed, wrapped an arm around her waist and adjusted her arm with the other, "That one, Darling."
"Oh, right," Adelaide sighed contently staring at the star, lowering her arm as Javert wrapped his other arm around her waist.
It was peaceful.
"Javert?" Adelaide asked using the name he had requested she call him as he didn't like the reminder of his mother's influence on his life associated with his given name.
"Oui, Adelaide?" Javert replied unbroken from his reverence, gazing up at the stars, thanking God for this gift he had been given.
"Are you ever going to kiss me?"
That pulled Javert from his reverence.
"Pardon?" Javert looked at her wide eyed, grip around her waist slackening.
"Are you ever going to kiss me?" Adelaide repeated, fiddling with her decorative hand fan. "I know that in public company, it isn't proper, but in private company, like now…"
Javert released the girl, looking away and clearing his throat, "Well, you see… The thing is… That I…"
Oh screw it, it was now or never.
"It would not be proper given our current relationship," Javert answered.
"Oh," Adelaide looked away, dropping her hand fan to her side.
"So I guess it's a good thing that I wish to change our relationship," Javert continued.
Adelaide's head snapped back, "Monsieur?"
Breathing deeply, Javert gently took her hand, and bent to the ground on one knee, "Adelaide Jacqueline Enjolras, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"
"Javert," Adelaide gasped. "I- I- I-"
She jumped on him.
"Oui! Oui! Oui!" It was only when they were both clattered on the ground that Adelaide was able to collect herself, "Oui, Monsieur, I will become your wife."
"Here," Javert withdrew the ring box from his coat, "your father wanted me to give this to you."
"Mère's ring," Adelaide gasped at the sight.
Javert removed the ring from the box, "May I?"
"Oui," she nodded. Gently he placed it upon the third finger of her left hand and it slid on perfectly. "It fits."
"Oui, it does," Javert smiled.
Adelaide stared at him, beaming for a few minutes before she finally said, "We should probably stand up now."
Javert laughed as they stood up and brushed the dust from their clothes, "For all the time I've spent learning etiquette, I have no idea how to properly respond now."
"Well," Adelaide coyly smiled, "perhaps it's proper now for a kiss?"
Javert looked thoughtful, "Oui… I think it is."
Adelaide leaned in, ready to seal her engagement with a kiss when suddenly…
"Addie!"
Carine came bolting down the stairs.
"Pardon, Monsieur," Jérémie called to Javert, trailing after his wife. "I tried to hold her back as long as possible."
"That's alright," Javert shook his head as Carine pounced upon her friend demanding a view of the ring, "you did your best."
"Pardon," Carine smiled sheepishly, "but it's almost midnight, and engagement or not, you are not missing the turning of the decade. Who knows? You may not see the next one."
"Now let's not be ridiculous," Jérémie laughed, "everyone knows that Adelaide's going to be alive and kicking long after the rest of us are gone."
"Merci for the concern, Carine," Adelaide laughed, "but I think that I'd like to just spend some time out here with Javert."
Carine blinked at her, "Nope, not going to happen. Come on!"
With that the physician's daughter grabbed Adelaide's arm and pulled her back up the stairs.
Jérémie and Javert just stared at the girls as Adelaide tried to struggle away, but the small blonde refused to give.
"It's a challenge some days," Jérémie said to Javert, "but so worth it."
"I can imagine," Javert nodded. "Shall we?"
"Oui," Jérémie replied and the two men started up the stairs, "I'd better pry my wife off your fiancée."
By the time they got inside, Adelaide had managed to get away from Carine, but unfortunately that meant Javert had a hard time locating her. It wasn't until almost the time to start counting down that someone suddenly grabbed him and pulled him behind a pillar.
"Got you," Adelaide smirked. "Now, I believe you owe me a kiss."
Javert pulled at his collar and looked around, "But everyone will see, it's not proper-"
"Forget propriety. All I know is I can't end the year not knowing what it's like to kiss you," Adelaide replied.
Javert glanced around, "But still, I can't do it with them all staring."
The Inspector's daughter smirked at her fiancé, "Well how about this?"
Adelaide flicked open her fan and turned it toward the crowd so that their faces were hidden from view.
"Better?" Adelaide asked.
"Much better," Javert smiled, gently pulling her towards him.
As he placed his lips upon hers for the first time, the crowd counted down from ten, their kiss lasting long past one and the cheers of Bonne Année.
They ended the year 1809 with a kiss, and began 1810 with the same.
Finally they had found love.
On April 4, 1810, the highest coveted wedding spot of the year, being the first Wednesday in April, in her blue Sunday best (as was the fashion for weddings at the time) Mademoiselle Adelaide Jacqueline Enjolras became Madame Adelaide Jacqueline Javert.
And she couldn't be happier.
Javert on the other hand was terrified.
It wasn't that he was unhappy; on the contrary, it was one of the happiest days of his life.
He just didn't need everyone constantly reminding him of the "husbandly duties" he had to perform later that night.
"Just remember, Javert," Carine giggled, clearly having had one too many toasts to her best friend's marriage, "to undo Adelaide's dress it's decorative ribbon, then the buttons, then the laces, then just removed the layers."
He wasn't even going to ask how she knew that.
"Alright Sweetheart, why don't you go talk to Adelaide for a little while?" Jérémie ushered his wife toward the bride. Once she was safely out of sight, he sighed, "Pardon Monsieur, she can get a little uncensored when she's had too many."
"Non, that's alright," Javert looked away.
Jérémie looked him over, "You shouldn't be worried. Yes, she's going to be in a bit of pain at first, but it'll get much better. Just remember, if you take care of her, she'll take care of you."
"I'm not sure I'm comfortable discussing this," Javert bluntly said.
"Fair enough," Jérémie shrugged. "I just thought I'd say it, it didn't seem like you had anyone to talk with about it. Well, who wasn't completely drunk."
"Merci," Javert nodded. "And merci for being the best man, I don't really have any male friends-"
"I thought we were friends," Jérémie cut off.
Javert paused thoughtfully, "I guess we are. I've never really had one before."
"Well, you're stuck with us now," Jérémie laughed. "Now, where has that wife of mine gone off to?"
No sooner had he said it than Adelaide appeared dragging an overly intoxicated Carine behind her, "I believe this is yours."
"Pardon," Jérémie smiled meekly taking a hold of his wife, "we should be heading off soon."
"Oh, speaking of," Adelaide turned to her new husband, "Père says Gymont is ready, so we can head off any time now."
"Oh," Javert rubbed his neck awkwardly, "perhaps we could stay a while longer?"
"At least long enough for me to have a dance with the bride?"
Everyone whipped around (with the minor expectation of Carine, who was turned by Jérémie) to see none other than Louis Bélanger with his hands held up in defence.
"Don't worry, I'm not up to anything," Louis said cautiously, "married women aren't my thing and I'm courting Felicienne Lafontaine anyway."
Adelaide frowned as Javert held her arm protectively, "What happened to Mademoiselle Gillenormand in Paris?"
Carine drunkenly snorted, "Dropped him for some Bonaparte Colonel named Georges Pontmercy."
Louis frowned, "Great, even drunk she gossips non-stop. But oui, I was dropped for some no status charmer, but it's something I'm used to it by now. Look, I'm sorry for my little scene at church last year, and I'd say I'm sorry for New Year's, but I think your father punished me enough then. No hard feelings?"
He extended his hand hopefully and both bride and groom glared at it.
"How about we settle on truce, and a fresh start?" Adelaide suggested coolly.
"I'll take what I can get," Louis shook each of their hands. "And, look, I know this is probably inappropriate, but I spent a few amount of money on it, and since it's custom made, I can't return it, so, I was wondering if I may gave this to the two of you as a wedding present?"
Louis reached into his pocket and produced the silver locket he had once tried to buy Adelaide's courtship with.
"Oh, Louis," Adelaide looked at Javert uncertainly, "I don't know what to say?"
Javert stared at the necklace and sighed, "Merci Monsieur, but we accept it as a sign of friendship."
"That's all I ask," Louis handed the necklace to the groom, who slipped it into his coat pocket. "Well, Felicienne is waiting. Bonne nuit, and Javert?"
Javert locked eyes with the man.
"Bonne chance," Louis winked.
"I still don't like him," Carine hiccupped once Bélanger had disappeared.
"At least you got a pretty nice necklace out of it," Jérémie shrugged.
"You're alright with accepting it, right?" Adelaide asked her husband.
Javert groaned, "It has no indication it's from him on it, and it is very nice-"
"And expensive!" Carine cut in.
"And expensive," Javert sighed. "I'll be fine, besides, we don't want to be rude and put him out of all the money."
"And it goes with our rings," Adelaide tapped the silver band on Javert's finger. It had once been Léonard's wedding ring, and since he had been widowed for now over twenty-four years, Léonard had decided to pass it on to his son-in-law.
"There are two are," Léonard approached the group. "Come on, it's getting late, you two should be heading off."
"Oh, we'll stay and help see the guests home," Adelaide replied.
"Non, non, moi Chérie," Léonard shook his head, "tonight's your night… as much as I try not to think about it. Speaking from experience, you two have a… ugh, long night ahead of you."
As Léonard tried desperately not to think of what the assistant guard was going to do to his daughter that night, Adelaide swore that Javert actually blushed.
"S'il vous plaît, Père," Adelaide insisted, "we can stay."
"Nope," Léonard shook his head, "Jérémie and I can deal with everyone."
Jérémie's head whipped up, "But-"
Léonard locked his eye.
"Fine," Jérémie sighed.
"But Père-"
"Adelaide, I swear if you object one more time, I'm going to literally push you out the door," Léonard warned.
"Père-"
And that was how Adelaide and Javert literally was shoved out of Léonard Enjolras' house on their wedding night.
"Here we are," Javert announced to his bride, whose head was resting on his back.
"What?" Adelaide blinked blearily. The soothing trot of Javert's horse, as well as having her arms wrapped around his torso and head resting on his shoulder, combined with having woken early that morning, had lulled her asleep.
"This is my home," Javert replied. "Well, our home now. Here, let me help you down."
As Javert hopped off the horse and helped her down, struggling with the impediment of her being in a dress and trying not to think of all the innuendos he had heard that night, Adelaide took a look around her new home.
It was a lot smaller than her four bedroom maiden home, and she dared might even think that Javert built it himself. The small brown house had a small chimney peeking from the roof and two or three windows visible from Adelaide's current position. She remembered Javert having told her that the whole house only consisted of two bedrooms and one large main room that combined a kitchen, dining room and living room. Javert had no stables, but three tall trees that blocked a small area from view of the main rode, and in the area was a pole to tie Gymont to and a trough for food and water. The lawn was a mixture of limp grass and short weeds, a small stone path lead up to the house and a round black rock wall stood the border of the home and came up just past Adelaide's waist. Off in the distance she could see the Bagne of Toulon, and the path leading from the Bagne that all the freed prisoners had to walk down came right by the house, hence the reason for the wall and trees blocking the horse from view.
It was quaint.
"It's perfect," Adelaide smiled looking around her new home as Javert tied up Gymont and returned to her.
"Merci," Javert smiled, he had been nervous that she wouldn't like it, but he had worked hard to build this home for himself, and more recently, to make it welcome for his bride. "Unfortunately during the day you can hear the prisoners' work song, and the roof leaks in the main bedroom when it rains."
"So," Adelaide looked nervously at the ground, "in our room?"
Javert too looked away, "Oui, in our room."
It was nice to hear the crickets.
"Mon Dieu," Adelaide gasped.
"What is it?" Javert asked, glancing around to see what had displeased his wife.
"The stars," Adelaide was looking up at the clearest night sky she had ever seen, "they're beautiful."
Javert smiled, "That's why I picked to live here. Come."
Taking her hand, Javert led her toward a part in the black stone wall where it slopped down slightly, leaving something like a seat room enough for two.
"May I?" Javert asked his bride.
"May you what?" Adelaide frowned.
Without any further warning, Javert suddenly scooped her up and placed her upon the stone seat, steadying her as she laughed.
"Well, I wasn't expecting that," she said as Javert hopped up next to her.
"I'm just full of surprises," Javert grinned teasingly.
"Yes you are," Adelaide laid her head on his shoulder. "Wow, you really can see the stars out here; they're so beautiful and mysterious."
"Oui, they are," Javert stroked her hair. "Stars, in their multitudes, scare to be counted, filling the darkness with order and light. They are the sentinels, silent and sure, keeping watch in the night."
"Keeping watch in the night," Adelaide repeated, mesmerized by her husband's voices while they watched the stars.
"It just astounds me how they know their place in the sky, hold their course and their aim," Javert continued. "And in each season returns and returns, and is always the same."
"We should pick a star," Adelaide said.
Javert looked at her, "Pardon."
"We should pick a star," Adelaide turned to him, "make it our star, swear our love on it, and know every time we see it that there's someone out there who loves us unconditionally and forever. We should swear it on Polaris."
Javert chuckled, "You can't claim a star."
"Well, I just did," Adelaide smirked. "Come on, swear it. Swear you'll always love me."
Javert smiled and shook his head, she was a little odd, but the two of them made up a pair of odd ducks.
"Alright," he laughed, "I swear it."
"By the stars," Adelaide pushed.
"I swear it by the stars," Javert vowed, unknowing that from then on his strongest of vows would be sworn by the stars and ergo his love for Adelaide.
"Now," she whispered, "kiss me."
In those days, when a man would wed a woman, there would be no "you may now kiss the bride" as it was assumed that all knew the bride was the property of the groom, and he would not need to express his claim. As such, Javert and Adelaide had not yet shared their first kiss as husband and wife, and now it was time.
Javert leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, just as soft and chaste as the ones they had shared in the past four months.
And that wasn't enough for Adelaide tonight.
She poured everything it the kiss, pulled him in deep, weaving her hand into his hair, kissing long and hungrily. When she finally pulled away, Javert attempted to recapture her lips before she got too far, and the two of them sat there panting, just staring at each other.
"And that, I swear by the stars," Adelaide whispered.
He grabbed her and pulled her into their most passionate kiss yet.
Hours later she lay in his bed blissfully sleeping, covered with nothing but a sheet and her husband's warm form. Her breathing was steady as she peacefully slept back facing her husband, exhausted from the long day, the wine from toasting her marriage, and their bout of lovemaking.
Javert was still awake, sure he was tired, but he didn't want to miss a moment of being with her. Gently he stroked his thumb across her bare arm. Hesitating for a moment, he carefully placed a soft kiss upon her shoulder, then her neck, her cheek and finally on her forehead. He frowned as she stirred slightly, but nothing came of it but her turning to face her husband and snuggling into Javert contently.
And he thanked God that he decided to go to that market on that day so long ago.
On the evening of April 24, 1811, Javert paced.
He paced back. He paced forth. He paced so much that he threatened to wear a groove in the floor. He was so focused on his pacing that he never saw the book coming until it hit him smack in the head.
"Knock it off!" Léonard snapped, grabbing another book from the bookshelf behind him, one of the few things Adelaide had brought into the home when she wed Javert. "If you keep doing that you're going to wreck the floor, now sit!"
Javert looked over at his father-in-law, he really didn't want to sit, but he also didn't want to get hit in the head with another book.
"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous," Javert took the second chair by the hearth. It was the one that usually he and Adelaide would sit in as she tried to convince him that reading for leisure was fun. He usually did it more so for the fact that she would sit in his lap as they were supposed to read together, with him focusing on her and her swatting away any wandering hands as she tried to pay attention to the story.
Sometimes she won.
But sometimes she lost.
"You have no need to be nervous," Léonard waved off, "Adelaide is a strong girl, and everything's gone right so far."
"It's just her mother-"
"Look, son," Léonard leaned in toward Javert. "Don't get me wrong, I love Adelaide's mother very much, but she was a weakling. It was just irresponsible for me to get her pregnant in the first place, but even in my sorrow, I was given the greatest gift of my life."
"I just," Javert sighed, "I don't know if I could do this without her."
Léonard frowned, "So that's it? You think you can't do this."
"I had no real parent growing up," Javert replied, "my father's on for lifetime imprisonment, and my mother's God knows where, living a life of sin. I have no one."
"Come now, surely your mother wasn't that bad."
"Which do you want to hear about? The palm reading or the prostitution?"
"Oh," Léonard watched as Javert gazed into the fire as it flicked shadows across the cold dark floors lit by only the faint glow of the moon.
Their silence was broken suddenly by a groan of pain coming from the bedroom. The two of them had long passed the point that Javert would struggle against the Inspector, trying to get into the bedroom at every moan and groan of pain Adelaide emitted.
It had been hours.
"How do I be a father?" Javert asked gazing at the flames. "You're the only one I can ask, so tell me, how do I be a father?"
"Well," Léonard scratched his chin, "it comes down to being able to compromise."
"Compromise?" Javert frowned looking up at his father-in-law.
"You have to learn how to balance giving personal freedoms, while enforcing fundamental moral values," Léonard instructed. "It never goes the same way for every father and child, but you have to learn to work with the child, but still remaining the authoritative figure. But at the core of it, you must remember that man, or woman, should not live in their father's shadow. They are their own person, free to make their own mistakes and choices. But don't worry, the second they are first placed in your arms, then you'll know you can do this."
Whatever reply Javert had thought of was lost to time, as the moment he opened his mouth, he was cut off with the piercing scream of an infant taking its first breath.
Javert's eyes shot open, "Is that-"
Léonard smiled, "Congratulations, you're a father."
Shooting up out of his seat, Javert stood in front of the bedroom door as the minutes ticked by, waiting, wondering, and most importantly, hoping.
The door opened.
Renée LaFleur, mother to the infamous gossip Carine, and the town's midwife, came out humming.
"Well?" Javert choked out as she met his eyes.
"Both mother and child are healthy and happy," Renée reported. "You can see them now, but go easy, they need their rest."
Javert dumbly nodded, took a deep breath, and gently pushed up the door.
His first sight of Adelaide, breathless from delivery while beamed brightly at the bundle in her arms, was one of the most beautiful one he had ever seen.
Adelaide, sensing her husband's presence, looked up from the infant, "Hey."
"Hey," Javert laughed, she was acting as if she hadn't just gone through eight hours of labour. "How are you doing?"
"Sore, tired, and in absolute ecstasy," Adelaide sighed happily. "Do you want to see him?"
Javert blinked, "It's a boy?"
"A strapping young boy, like his Papa," Adelaide beamed at their son as Javert slowly approached the bed and took a seat next to his wife and child. Adelaide never moved her eyes from the infant but scooted closer to her husband, "Mon amour, this is your Papa. Do you want to hold him?"
Javert went wide eyed, "I'm not sure-"
"Oh, come on," Adelaide carefully handed off the infant to Javert. "Mind his head."
Javert smiled as he looked upon his son, Léonard was right, he could do this.
"I think," the voice in the back of his head said.
There was a faint tapping on the door, and Léonard stuck his head in, "May I come in?"
"Of course," Adelaide called, and her father entered the room. "It's a boy."
"And you're both alright?" Léonard asked. Adelaide nodded and Léonard smiled, "That's my girl. How are you holding up, son?"
"Terrified," Javert answered.
"As you should be," Léonard clapped a hand on his son-in-law's shoulder, being careful not to jolt the baby. "It sounded like the kid has a set of lungs on him, no doubt he'll be a good public speaker."
"We'll see, Père," Adelaide rolled her eyes and looked at her son lovingly.
"So," Léonard asked, "what is the name of this grandson of mine?"
Adelaide and Javert smiled at each other, and she nodded to her husband.
Javert proudly announced, "His name is Sébastien Léonard Javert."
Léonard beamed, "Now there's a name."
It would be many years before Sébastien would forsake his birth name and took the title of his mother's maiden name and build a barricade under the name of Enjolras.
But for now we shall call him Sébastien.
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