Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect or variation of Les Miserables. That genius belongs to Victor Hugo and all of those who followed.
Title: Reprieve
Summary: Sometimes life gives us a second chance, but are we too weak to take advantage of this gift? Javert had thought he would die; he had hoped he would die. However, it seemed that life had not finished with him just yet. How can he hope to make a new start with all that had transpired? Life has an answer to that, as well.
Author's Note: So, I am attempting to wrap things up here in probably just a few more chapters. Like I said, I am not too sure where this is necessarily going, but I do feel the end is near. I like all of the suggestions I have been getting. The idea with Eponine is very intriguing, but unfortunately Javert is the only one in this story that did not die accordingly. Again, I am still up for ideas on how to properly end this. There are a few rummaging around through my brain, but I just need it to make sense and be satisfying.
Chapter 8
- Once Upon A Time
The next day felt like torture to Javert. Breakfast was again strained at best with Marius uttering very little during the meal and Cosette acting as though she had never made some mysterious promise. It was difficult for him to maneuver in such a situation, so he ended up cutting the meeting short. He remained in his room for much of the day, always anticipating when Cosette might call upon him. He wasn't short of amusement. His mind was going wild with imaginings of what it was she wanted to tell him.
It was just after noon when he felt as though he could no longer stand being idle. Painstakingly, for he was afraid that he would miss her should she decide to call upon him when he was gone, Javert got up from his leisurely position and left the house. He decided to take a stroll because the weather was nice and the temperature mild. He no longer felt too nervous about somebody recognizing him, since it hadn't happened yet. Well, he decided, except to those he was in familiar contact with. Or, he even mused, perhaps it was just a fluke that Marius had discovered his true identity.
It still rattled him to think that the young man had recognized him almost instantaneously and had merely been playing a rouse until he had found the right time to strike. Once upon a time, he had been quicker than to fall for such an act. He would have known not to let his guard down. Perhaps he had been correct in his previous life to think that it was impossible to intermingle.
Javert allowed his feet to lead him through the streets. He didn't even attempt to pay attention to his surroundings or potential destination. Truthfully, he didn't even care. That was why when he suddenly found himself upon the very same bridge he had jumped from not so long ago, he was quite shaken.
He was frozen in the middle of the bridge, afraid to move to one side or the other. But then the spot caught his eye. The very spot he had stood on was still intact. It hadn't moved or changed like he must have thought it would. It was still there, taunting him. He shuffled over to it, his hands actually trembling slightly, until he was able to grasp the railing. It took all of his courage to peer over the edge and into the churning water below.
Javert was not sure what drove him or influenced him or even what he hoped to accomplish, but he knew he just had to do this. It was like overcoming an obstacle or a fear. Yes, he supposed, he actually did fear something. Though he would never admit it aloud, he at least had to admit it to himself. His heart raced against his chest and his muscles would not cease from cramping. It was certainly real. And, he supposed that now it was a part of his past—a part of him.
As he watched the flowing water below, it was then that he came upon a realization. He could feel himself changing due to his understanding and connection with those dark waves. The water was different, just like him. It was also not the same as it had been on that bleak day. It was new; it had evolved. Therefore, he should do the same.
Yes, as he stared down into the dangerous, yet beautiful tumult, he knew he was correct. There had been a reason he had chosen the water. No, he insisted. No, the water had chosen him. And, it was going to shape him—now, as it had then.
It was dusk when the light knock came upon his door.
"Come in," Javert called from the seat in the corner. He had borrowed a book from the Pontmercy's extensive library and had indulged in that by candlelight until just at that moment when he had been interrupted.
Cosette stepped over the threshold, not venturing to make a sound. He looked up and saw her close the door, and was ashamed to say that he had momentarily forgotten their scheduled meeting. Engrossed in the book, he spent very little time contemplating what their conversation would hold and the upcoming event itself.
Javert quickly marked and shut the book and placed it aside. He stood to formally greet his hostess, which she smiled about and simply gave a dismissive wave of her hand before he could even do anything.
"Please, sit down, Jori," she allowed politely.
Though her voice was still just as sweet and pleasant, he noticed some sort of force behind it that made him obey unquestioningly. Almost unawares he resumed his chair. With her hands fidgeting with one another in front of her, Cosette stepped this way and that before landing just in front of him. She had looked quite contemplative, to a point where Javert did not want to disturb her, but then suddenly assumed a content and rather encouraged expression.
"I suppose you are ready to hear my story now, Jori," she offered, peering at him with a small smirk on her ruby lips.
"I must admit, Cosette, that it was nearly all I could think about today," he imparted quietly.
She scoffed to herself. "I do apologize about that. I did not mean to leave you in anticipation. It is just a story I believe you have heard before." She slowly turned around so that her back was to him. "It's just that sometimes I think we all need some reminding."
He stared at her in confusion, but she merely walked away and stopped in front of the window. Staring out at the setting sun, the colors in the sky radiated off of her in such an image. He hated to say it, but he was starting to get somewhat concerned, more so over her rather than himself. She seemed so sad and distant. He had never seen her in such a way. He internally wished that there was something he could do to relieve her of this apparent burden.
When Cosette began, she spoke in a lilting and far off manner. She never turned her eyes to him at first, but it was apparent that she recognized his presence. Her reflection was vaguely visible in the window pane, which was what Javert intended to watch. He tried to study the expression on her face while she relayed the tale. However, it was barely formed and he had to suffice with looking upon the back of her head.
"Once upon a time," she began, "a little girl was left in a place where she didn't belong to be raised by people who did not like her. She was made to do the worst of chores and venture into the scariest and darkest of places. The little girl really had no concept of hope. For, how could one imagine living free of burdens and pain when that was all one had ever known?" For the next part, she bowed her head, picturing the past. She smiled a little at what she could recall. "But then one night, a saint came into the little girl's life in the form of a strange and lonesome man. He pervaded the darkness like a beacon of light, chasing away all of the shadows and demons. He was the first one to show her any kindness; and, in a way, she fell in love with him."
Javert swallowed, unable to tear his eyes away from her. The image of her, though simple and unmoving, was captivating enough. The story was hitting his heart, blow after blow. Not only that, though, he grew more and more nervous the further the story continued. He already realized that it was not a typical tale. In fact, he was sure it had some sort of hidden meaning or message specifically for him. There was a reason she was telling it to him, he knew. However, he would have to wait it out until the end to discover what that purpose was.
Cosette lifted her chin and stared out of the window again. The sky was growing dimmer just beyond the glass, causing the shadows in the room to dance and stretch. Still, her eyes held the reflection of the last sliver of sunlight.
"The man ended up saving the little girl from her wretched existence. He spirited her away from that dark and dismal place and offered her a chance at a brighter future. He gave her things that she could never have dreamed of. He loved her as she had only wished one day to be loved. However, it was not an entirely perfect existence. There was still a shadow chasing them, searching for them around every corner. The man became overprotective of the little girl and suspicious. He was afraid that this shadow would split them apart." Cosette paused momentarily to release a long sigh. "Time passed, as it always does, and the little girl became a young woman. She believed she would never care for anyone as much as she cared for her savior, but one day she met a young man who caused her heart to flutter. He, in turn, felt the same way. However, their love was in danger, for the shadow had never actually left. Though there had been a false sense of security, it had always remained lurking in the background. Now, it looked to tear the couple apart for good. And it almost did."
Cosette glanced over her shoulder at Javert, but he could not avert his gaze. Instead, he stared dumbly, and now awkwardly, at the young woman. His mouth was slightly agape in awe and nervousness. He couldn't say if it was the way she was telling the story or the memories of the story itself that caused his pulse to beat in his ears, his heart to thump against his chest. After a few seconds, she turned her head away, but turned from the window. She paced a little, her fingers still itching in front of her and her eyes always downcast.
"The young woman could never understand what made her savior fear the shadow so much," Cosette continued just as softly. "Not even as a little girl did she understand how the two were intertwined. It wasn't until her savior was on his last breath did she learn of not only how he came to her and of his secret past, but of her origins as well." She stopped again momentarily. She had to swallow to maintain her composure, but she sniffled with the onset of silent tears. "The young woman learned of the mother she had never met. The woman she had despised all of those years for abandoning her into darkness had actually struggled for her and her alone. She had given her life in an attempt to save her daughter." She took a deep breath. "The man she had made her savior had actually acted on behalf of that mother. He had sworn to protect the girl and raise her as his own. He had come from nothing, as well. It was quite a perfect match—a convict raising an orphaned girl." She had to bite back a sob. "But to the girl, that was her world."
Cosette sniffled again then broke into a sob. She dabbed at her eyes with her fingers, mopping up the tears that clung to her thick eyelashes. Javert wanted nothing more than to go to her, but he was afraid. Oh, God, he was afraid. He knew the story all too well. He was one of the characters. The only part that he was unsure about was if Cosette knew that, too.
"T-That story," he stammered finally just above a whisper, but he was cut short. It had taken much of his strength to just utter those two words.
"It's not over yet," Cosette interrupted. She smiled sadly at him, twirling in his direction. She continued to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but stared intensely at him. "You see, the man and the young woman had believed that they had gotten rid of the shadow that had plagued them for years, but it turns out they were mistaken. It was only after the man had entered into God's gates that the shadow dared to reemerge. This time, it was determined to become a permanent fixture in the young woman's new life."
Cosette paused again. She took a couple of steps forward, her eyes darting down for just an instant. She was quick to regain that courage and determination that had shined in her gaze just a minute or two previously. This was what set Javert's nerves wild. It was that knowing and not-so-forgiving look. Yet, she maintained her sly smile. The tears still stung the edges of her eyes. Her hands still intertwined nervously in front of her. Perhaps, though, that was all part of the illusion.
"All that young woman wants is peace and solitude after so many years of discord," she informed. "So, can you tell me, Inspector Javert, what does this shadow have purposed for his resurrection?"