road_to_calvary | (no subject)

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It is early May, but you would not know it in this cellar. The place is as cold as ever, it smells damp, and the usual guard against the stone's natural chill - the fire - is gone. Valjean stares at the place where it should be; he is quite still, but his mind is working furiously.

Yesterday he had stayed a long time. Basque had to come twice to inform Cosette that dinner was served, and the family was waiting. This must have to do with that, they are trying to tell him something, they are reminding him that he is here by their grace alone.

But, wait. No, that is too much. In an instant, the truth comes to him. 'Ah,' he says, to himself. 'It is perfectly simple. The cold weather has ceased.’ And why should they need a fire, indeed? It is quite warm outside, quite pleasant. That must be the answer.

He remains a little uneasy, and does not sit down at first. It is too cold for Cosette, to be sure. But he knows she will come, and so would not think of leaving.

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And there, see: her father likes Grandfather Gillenormand too.

Cosette glows. "He did. He is the handsomest man I've ever known, the handsomest man I've seen, don't you think so?"

'I do. And he dresses in a fine manner, which becomes his status. He will do very well if he returns to the law, with his bearing and his intelligence. A man to instill confidence in any client; if he wishes it, he will be very successful.'

One thing Valjean does know, is that the more he talks about Marius and his qualities, the longer he can stay and talk with Cosette. She is always willing to sit and extol on his perfection.

So many of their old subjects of conversation are difficult now; her father won't be easy, he calls her Madame and vous, he won't be her father. But this is still easy: they can talk of Marius.

"I don't know if he plans to take up law again. We haven't spoken of it. But you're quite right. He would be very good! He's good at anything he turns his hand to. You're perfectly right that clients would be impressed, they'd be pleased to have such a man helping them."

Her face lights up so when she talks of her husband. It reminds him of when she were small, and would run to see him in the convent garden every day. She had no other thought than to spend her hour in his company alone, chattering away about her friends and the things she had learned, all the plants she could touch and the things she could see. His heart twists in his chest, but it is not all sad. She is sitting with him now, and still smiles at him, and though he is a wretch for allowing her to remain chained to him at all, he cannot feel anything but pleasure at being in her presence.

'He would be a force for good. All of society would choose him when they needed help, though of course if he does not want to practice, it is all very well. You will have him to yourself and run your house together, and be very happy. He will look after you, and have the servants run after you and make sure you have everything you need. I expect he will take a box at the theatre for you, if you wish, and a carriage to take you about the city. There will be no enjoyment you cannot share.'

"We are so very happy. He's wonderful, he's the best of husbands. But you, monsieur, you're always so funny about carriages! I don't need a carriage. We have feet and it's springtime."

Don't you miss our walks, don't you ever want to walk with me anymore, won't you be my papa--

"But of course you're right, everything will be joy and enjoyment. It already is, you know, I'm very happy. Perhaps it's selfish of me to be glad to have Marius to myself, but I'm happy to be selfish, if so! About my dear Marius, I'm glad to be."

'And he is that kind of selfish too; it is good to see, I would not wish any less for you.'

He pulls himself up as soon as the words leave his mouth. They are too personal, and he has no right to express such a wish as if she were his own flesh and blood.

'A carriage is your choice, of course, but there is no reason you should not have one. You are rich, and money will only add to your lives. At least when the summer is over. But the weather is fine, as you say. No doubt there is time enough.'

He wants more than anything to see them enjoying their wealth.

Cosette beams at the well-wishing. She's never doubted it: whatever the distance and coldness he gives her now, whatever is going on in his head, whatever she's done or whatever marriage means to him (or to all of fine society?) that means he won't be anything but a formal Monsieur Jean to her -- in spite of all that, she's always known that he only wants the best for her. It makes everything bearable.

But it's always wealth and fripperies with him: he wants her to have everything fine, even when it's silly, even when she doesn't need it. Expensive presents from Grandfather Gillenormand, and urgings to buy anything he thinks a fine lady might like from Monsieur Jean, while he tells her household not to light the fire she wants lit. She finds a laugh: "We never had a carriage, monsieur! I like to walk. I like to see the city, on my husband's arm. Why should I shut such a fine fellow away in a carriage, when I can walk arm in arm with him in the sun?"

She finds a laugh, but it's tiring. Perhaps Basque will call her soon to dinner. Marius is quiet, and dear, like her father, and unlike her father she doesn't have to work to remind him to love her.

He chastises himself at the sight of that smile. He must do better. But it is so hard to remember not to be her father, when it is all he wants in the world.

He thinks that he would have bought her a carriage if she had asked for one. He would have bought her anything. It was good that she was humble, but that was his influence, because he could not do anything but hide. He does not want that life for her now; she is free, and can live in the gaze of all society, just as he has worked to make possible for her. There is no need to be fettered, as she was with him.

But he cannot tell her that. And her gaiety seems a little forced now, and he wilts at the idea of this distance between them even as he knows it cannot be any other way.

For the first time, he is a little glad when Basque calls. By tomorrow, this will be forgotten and they can talk of Marius again, and all will be well.

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