XXXVIII: Solace of Home

Aimée had searched everywhere for him, but without luck. Night had fallen and she was making her way to the Paliais now, desperately hoping he had made his way back to the ominous- looking building that towered the riverside. Turning a corner, she found herself standing at the beginning of the long bridge that arched its way across the murky waters.

A silhouette standing on the balustrade shocked her. Her body jolted in panic as she realized it was Javert, his head bowed and his feet dangerously close to the edge. As quickly as she could, she neared him. As she got closer, she slowed, fearing she would surprise him into jumping.

"…Javert?" she murmured, standing a few yards away and watching him intently, trying to hide her own panic and still her own hammering heart. The man didn't move.

"Javert…please come down."

He did not stir, but Aimée noticed the way his chest heaved with a sigh and she saw the flicker of a pale piece of cloth clenched in his fist. Aimée immediately knew that it was the handkerchief. It glimmered the darkness like the sliver of hope she needed. She looked up to his face, turned in profile as he gazed down at the water.

Thinking on her feet, Aimée began to speak, her voice quiet and calm, as nurturing as a woman's voice could be.

"My mother's name was Melanie…" she began, hoping desperately that this wild idea would work. "She had brown hair, freckles…and a gap in her teeth." Aimée noticed as his head barely turned to register her words. Licking her lips nervously, she continued. "She died seventeen years ago in Toulon with my baby brother, Pascal. I had a father, his name was Gérard. He died. I help raised a little girl, her name was Éponine. She was shot. I helped raise a little boy…his name was Gavroche…he was shot too."

Aimée was reminded harshly that her words were true. Her calm began to falter and she

started to choke on tears.

"In Toulon, I used to pick flowers…I tore them from my father's garden. I would try and

sell them in the streets. Most people ignored me, pushed by me or laughed at my dirty dress or my flowers."

Javert closed his eyes and let her words find his ears, taking him back to a place that had changed his life.

"Once, there was a man, a guard from the shipyards. I remember stopping him and holding up my flowers, trying to get him to take one. They were free…."

Aimée sniffed and tried her best to ignore how close Javert's feet were to the edge of the stone railing. Tried to ignore how fast the waters coursed below. "I remember thinking, 'this man looks so serious. Maybe a flower would make him happy,' I just wanted to make someone happy." Aimée had to wipe her eyes. She was amazed she had tears left.

"He took one. And that night, I remember sitting in my windowsill as I looked at the stars and wondered if he was watching them too, this guard who took a flower from me, the only person who had stopped to look at me. Who had stopped my father's hand, protected me even though he had never met me in his life. I knew that this guard was kind."

Javert turned away from her. He let her words fill him. He was torn apart, ragged, thinking there was nothing left but the river that swirled below his feet.
"One night, my father hit me, so I ran out to sit by the fountain with some bread. That guard found me there, told me I shouldn't be outside…" she took a moment to find her voice after a crack, "…told me it was dangerous. It surprised me back then to have someone care about what I did. The guard brought me home."

She paused and the night swirled around them. The stars twinkled anxiously and Aimée had no idea if her words were helping the situation or not. She didn't even know if he could hear what she was saying. Her anxiety grew, but she managed to hide it as she spoke again.

"We grew to be friends over time, me and this guard. I remember, the mayor used to throw parties. I went to one and found him there. I remember actually thinking that he looked handsome, drawn up in his uniform, his posture perfect. I was drawn to his eyes, pale-green and bright, he always looked as if he was thinking about something and at times my greatest wish was to know what was going on in his head."

Aimée began to drift away from their spot on the bridge, losing herself to her own memory. She sat on the cobblestones, her back against the balustrade behind her. She reached back and pulled her hair free from the ribbon, hating the way it was pulling at her scalp. Javert continued to stand above her, a few yards away still, a safe distance.

"When I was around him, I felt happy," amazingly, in the wake of panic, war, and the threat of suicide, Aimée gave a small chuckle as she relived her memories. "I remember asking if he danced…he said he wasn't one much for dancing. I guess I was a little disappointed…to dance with that handsome guard wouldn't have been that terrible of a thing."

She didn't see that Javert turned to look down at her, his face the face of stone as he listened to her words.

"He rescued me, this man did. He found me in the mayor's gardens after I was attacked. He told me he carried me all the way back and kept me safe. No one had ever done that for me before, protected me. When my mother died…" she sniffed, "When my mother died, he came to me in the graveyard. I hugged him, I remember being so embarrassed that I'd done that, but he told me not to worry."

Javert bowed his head, reliving the memories with her.

"We were separated for a time, me and my guard," Aimée closed her eyes. "But in Montreuil, we found each other again, just by fate. I realized that I'd loved him, this strong, handsome man that was as harsh as the law he protected, but kind and gentle around me. The first time I kissed him, we were sitting in my library. I was so nervous I was shaking. It was a little kiss, I pulled away immediately, I remember being afraid that I'd done something wrong."

Javert cautiously turned when he heard her quiet chuckle. He studied her face, tear tracks snaking down her cheeks, yet her mouth was in a rueful smile. Glancing back at the river, he hung his head. The Aimée of his past filled the air around him and he began to feel overwhelmed again. However, he couldn't deny the warmth that filled him when he heard her chuckle, the warmth that began to fight with his own inner convictions.

Aimée continued in the darkness. "But then he kissed me back, and I remember being so happy. The happiest I've ever been or ever imagined I could be."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. Their eyes met and Javert felt her eyes search his soul, see what a weak man he was. Aimée saw the man she had hurt, the man who she had betrayed. The tiny smile that had quirked her lip was gone.

"I was taken away from him," Aimée said, her voice stronger now that Javert would look at her. "Taken from the man I loved by my father. I had no idea where I was and I looked for him, but my father had hidden me far away. I found Éponine, just a little girl, and I was made to take care of her. The family I was forced to live with, the Thénardiers, were cruel to me. I needed money. I needed to get away from them."

Aimée was about to confess the story that Javert had not wanted to hear.

"I started a flower shop. But I was hardly making any money. I would go to bed hungry some nights. Little Éponine was starving in the streets, the Thénardiers had forced her to become a pickpocket. Monsieur Thénardier called on me one night, told me that I needed to help him with a kind of delivery. If I didn't, he threatened to ruin my shop. I was made to pick up an order of gunpowder and bullets. In order to save my shop, I did as he said."

Her words were true. "When I was done, I received more money that I had ever held before. Thénardier let me keep a percentage of it. After that…I got involved with the business of it. I was drawn to the money, drawn to the comfort and full belly it provided. I grew harsh, a woman of the streets. I kept the flower shop open to use as a cover, as an alibi."

Javert showed no emotion as she finished her story. They were quiet. She wished he would speak to her.

"But then, I found my guard again, but now he was the Chief Inspector of Paris. He found me when I was trying to smuggle rifles. I was so scared. But I was so relieved to find him again, I felt myself change when I looked back on his face, older but even more handsome than what I had remembered. When I was back with him, I remembered who I was, a woman who was kind, caring, loving. I realized that I was not a smuggler, I was not a criminal. I hid the truth from him out of disgust…I hated myself for what I had done."

Aimée felt numb, her panic so overwhelming it sucked all the feeling from her. She couldn't even feel the solidness from the railings pillars press against her spine.

"He proposed to me, gave me this ring," Aimée whispered, looking down at the ring that hugged her finger, "I loved him so much. That night we shared a bed, and I had never remembered knowing such love or kindness. I had never been that happy. My life felt complete, my life felt right. He sucked away all the wrongdoings that I had done."

Aimée looked back up at him and he saw the shining of tears. "Now, this man is all I have. Everyone I had ever loved is now dead, except for him. He is the only thing I have to live for. I want to fight for him, keep him safe, and continue to love him," she murmured, "Please, Javert. Don't leave me now. Don't make me live with another death. Don't leave me alone here in this world."

Her words died away to a whisper he had barely heard. Javert looked down at her, sitting curled against the balustrade. Javert saw the woman of his past. The one that threw a rock at his carriage when he had tried to leave without telling her, the woman that held his hand as they gazed at fireworks. The woman that had sat at the courthouse stairs, waiting for him to return to her. The river crashed below him, drawing him back to the situation at hand. Javert closed his eyes. Javert remembered throwing her letters into the fire, remembered hearing her screams through the parchment.

Could he really bring himself to do that to her? Could he bring himself to leave her one last time?

"Aimée…" his voice was a ragged whisper of despair.

"I love you, Mattieu Javert…don't leave me here."

Javert found himself turning to face the street, his back to the river. Her words filled him, swept him away somewhere that wasn't Paris. Her words brought him to Montreuil, to the stable that smelled of hay and horses. Her words pressed his back against the softness of her bed and he felt her weight over him, straddling him as he felt her hot kisses down his neck. Aimée stood and moved in front of him, gazing up at his face in the darkness as the stars twinkled overhead. She did not speak, but Javert found himself reaching out and placing his hand on her golden hair, which glowed in the moonlight. He ran his fingers through it, pulling when he found a snag and thinking that it felt like spun silk against his skin.

Realizing he had no more strength left, Javert collapsed forward, slipping from the balustrade and encircling Aimée in his arms. Struck by the surprise of his weight against her, she tumbled to the ground, kneeling with Javert as he clung to her, his face buried in her hair. His back shook with a wracking sob and Aimée tightened her arms around him in response, relief flooding her and lifting the dead weight from her shoulders. She heard Javert's muffled cries and felt her own tears slip gently from her lids.

Javert shook like a leaf, clutching Aimée to him with pure desperation and need. His knees were damp on the cobblestones, but he didn't care, all he cared about was the woman he held in his arms, the warmth and stability she gave him as he wept and shook.

"Shhh…" she murmured, reaching up and trailing her fingers along the back of his neck. She sniffed, forcing herself to be strong for him. "I'm here, Javert. I love you. I won't leave you. I'm here…."

After a few moments Javert's wracking sobs died away. Aimée pulled back and pressed her hands to his face, feeling the stubble wet with his tears. She gave him a watery smile and traced his brows, the lines in his face, his lips. Pulling him towards her, she pressed a long kiss to his forehead. Javert's shaking ended with a long sigh as he allowed his eyes to flutter closed as he relished her caresses.

"A-Aimée…I-"

"Shhh…no, we won't ever have to speak of this again, alright?" Aimée murmured, looking Javert straight in his pale green eyes.

Swallowing back his tears, Javert nodded and leaned forward, nestling his face in the warm softness of Aimée's neck.

"I've always loved you, Javert. Ever since that day I shoved those flowers in your face," she hummed, kneading his shoulders with strong fingers and trying to relieve the tension he felt. "And my love is as real as the day itself."

The two sat like that, collapsed into each other's arms, for nearly an hour. Javert, finally having composed himself, pulled away from Aimée and stood. Aimée watched him as he looked over his shoulder to the river down below. His jaw setting, he turned back to her and offered her his hand. Taking it and feeling the warm roughness of his skin, Aimée was helped up. If Javert was unnerved by his moment of crushing weakness, he did not show it now. He was back to his old self, strong, reserved, and perfect.

Aimée's spine tingled when she felt his hands spread over her waist, pulling her to him. He didn't speak, but his hands traveled upwards, one spreading out along her back and the other resting gently at the base of her neck. Javert's eyes met with hers and he pulled her gently against his chest, rocking with just the gentlest of motions. Aimée's eyes closed and she buried her face into his chest, inhaling the strong smell of him and feeling herself melt. It was his turn to kiss the top of his head. She felt the slight nudging of his chin as he rested it on the top of her hair. Javert sighed heavily through his nose and felt the panic and fear melt away from him. He didn't want to think of the railing that sat behind him, didn't want to think of the river churning below. Javert didn't want to think about how close he had come to ending it all, ending this, this bliss.

The night grew quiet and Aimée could hear the even thumping of his heart.

"Javert?" she ventured, her voice a whisper.

"Mmmm?" he murmured.

"Will you kiss me?"

She felt his chin lift from her head and his hand snaked its way to tilt her chin upwards. Aimée felt the soft warmth of his thumb tracing along the underside of her jaw. She bit her lip, looking into his eyes, downturned so they looked like he was perpetually in thought. Aimée couldn't help the little smile that quirked her lips in anticipation.

Her heart began to soar when she noticed the corners of Javert's own mouth flicker upwards and he closed the distance between them. Aimée's knees went week when she felt his mouth claim hers and his arms wrap around her. Wrapping her own arms around his neck, she pressed herself close to him, feeling the strength of his chest against her own. Gentle at first, the two lovers grew more desperate for each other in the heat of their kiss and deepened it. Relief overwhelmed them and Aimée's heart thundered against Javert's in the night. She tasted like bright hope and he tasted like unyielding safety.

Javert felt all of his struggles lift free from his tired body. His life, which had taken a drastic, chaotic turn in just a few days, began to feel right with this woman in his arms. He was enveloped in her, every trailing touch of her fingers, every beat of her heart, every puff of breath against his skin. She, nearly twenty years his junior, gave Javert a reason to live, a reason to forgive and show mercy.

When they finally broke away, both were panting for breath. Aimée glowed in the night and Javert couldn't restrain himself from cupping one of her cheeks with his large palm. Their foreheads pressed against each and both found themselves smiling gently.

"Javert?"

"Yes, Aimée?"

"Can we go home?"

Javert gave a small chuckle and kissed her forehead then her nose, and ended with a peck on her lips.

"You've found me again, Mademoiselle… I already am home."

Hey guys...bittersweet chapter for me.

This is it, i'll write an epilogue, of course, but for now, here we are, the end of the road. I want to thank all of my readers and reviewers from the bottom of my heart, this story was never going to be this big, this fantastic. It was going to be just a simple fic, maybe ten chapters at most, but the support from everyone pushed me to keep writing, and i thank you all for that. You all have helped make this happen, so feel proud! I hope you liked it, hope you enjoyed reading my words as much as i enjoyed reading your comments.

Thank you all again, you all are awesome and lots of love!

BluesGirl