farouche_bravoure | Aftermath

That's enough of a formal invitation! He smiles again in return, a real one this time and not just in amusement at the Library, and strolls over. "I abandon my knowledge of the hour at the door, here; but I shall trust to your word and your judgement."

He nods at the headphones. "What have you found to listen to?" That's one of the listening devices, probably! And if it's not, she can laugh at him for being ignorant, and that'll be all right.

Fantine blushes a little. Not because of anything in particular, just--Bahorel's face always seems to suggest blush-worthy things even if he's being completely innocent.

"Reading lessons," she says. "I could never read properly, except a few words. And now I can get the lessons in this strange little box, isn't it funny?"

Bahorel has a very honest face! And other people blush over so many things! Not that he's ever minded a good honest blush.

But for now he's genuinely just studing the wonders of future technology.

"Is it easier, that way, than with another person teaching? How do you learn how to write letters, where to put the accents and everything?"

He's not skeptical, just entirely new to how this might work-- and he doesn't mind Fantine knowing it.

Fantine moves her arm from on top of the book in front of her. "This book came along with the--the lesson I'm playing. So it shows me where the accents are. But I don't know if it would be easier, learning from another person. I was never taught, you see."

Bahorel leans over to look at the front cover. "Ah-- mind if I look?"

"Of course not," says Fantine, handing the book up to him. It has large print, and is colorful.

He flips over a few of the pages. "Feuilly--you've met him, I think, another of our number?-- he's looking for ideas on teaching people back home to read and write. Making plans for schools in the streets, things that won't need a whole classroom or lock out everyone who can't afford the tuition." Bahorel turns over a few more pages. "--He should really talk to you about it. Hah,or you should talk to him. --He learned to read a long while ago, and not everyone has his knack. I wouldn't have." He shuts the book and hands it back to Fantine with a smile. "That's a fair distant cousin to my old school primer. Doesn't seem like it's telling anyone they're going to hell even once. And the pictures are good--that would have helped, at least in our house."

"Oh, yes, I've met Feuilly. And my Cosette, she gave me a lovely fan he made, for Christmas! She's such a sweet girl, you know. But what a marvelous idea, to teach everyone to read!" She takes the book back, smiling. "And no, it's a nice book, it says nothing of hell."

"Ah, he's like that-- he taught himself, he wants to teach everyone. He's a very good painter, but you only have to hear him scold to know he missed his calling as a schoolmaster." Bahorel's grin is entirely fond, even if he is making fun a little.

But he turns a tone more serious as he goes on. "And your Cosette has a good heart, I know." No sense not asking after her. " You'll have seen her, since her family's been in the Bar. Is she well?"

"She was shaken. By her father disappearing, as he did...but she's much happier now! M. Madeleine will get well. He's safe here, nothing can hurt him, and so Cosette needn't worry, the poor child."

Bahorel nods-- yes, Milliways is safe enough. But.. "Paris was safe enough for him, too. Or as safe as it is for any man." That hadn't been the problem. And maybe the real problem is past, but nothing about his recent conversation with Valjean ~~which is still going on lalala millitime~~ is really encouraging on that point.

Some people might say it's none of Bahorel's business either way. But if he'd believe the welfare of others to be none of his concern, he'd be a lawyer in France right now.

So he says "Have you spoken with Cosette's father --is he still Madeleine with you?-- before all of this?"

Edited 2016-02-01 22:55 (UTC)

"Yes, I tried to make him see reason! Do you know what he was doing? Hiding from my Cosette, out of shame, because of something silly in his past! Refusing to live with her, only paying her short visits, calling her madame and acting like he was never a father to her!" Fantine shakes her head. "All because he worried she wouldn't love him if she knew the truth, or even if she did, she would have no friends."

She bites her lip, pensive. "But I wonder if there was something he didn't tell me. You see, he promised me he was visiting Cosette every day, even if his visits were short. He said he would keep doing it. But then...Cosette says he stopped coming at all, he disappeared entirely. And do you know what else? That Javert, he turned up at the very end, as M. Madeleine--that's how I know him, though I know he has other names--just as he was dying." Fantine might be just a bit paler now, as she says, "He visited Cosette as M. Madeleine was dying. He knew where M. Madeleine was, even though Cosette had no idea. And he told Cosette about M. Madeleine's past, the secrets the poor man would have died rather than told."

She looks up at Bahorel, hoping he'll understand. "Do you see? Javert must have threatened M. Madeleine, somehow. That must be why he stayed away from Cosette. And when he told Cosette of M. Madeleine's secrets...Cosette, the sweet child, she thought it was a kindness! It couldn't have been. Oh, M. Madeleine had no need for secrecy, the poor old man, but Javert could only have told Cosette out of spite. To make her hate him, not that she ever would. Oh, you should have seen Javert's face, in Montreuil-sur-Mer." She shudders. That face had been the last thing she saw before death. "When he arrested M. Madeleine. He looked so happy, so pleased with his cruelty!"

Edited 2016-02-02 00:38 (UTC)

"Javert told her? --Oh, I'm sure he was very kind. Patient and understanding too, no doubt." Bahorel curses softly. "That's what comes of keeping quiet!-- Yes, I knew he'd been--acting ridiculous, hiding away from her; her father, I mean. Her father!" It still seems impossible, a farce to make some sort of point. "I talked to him about it. I should have talked to her! I should have talked to you! I'm sorry, and it was my own damn fault; I thought there were better ways for the story to come out, and there are, but that's no excuse; and all that's come of it is her learning in the worst way she could." There's no terrible self-flagellation in the apology;it's a true statement, that's all, something that needs to be said and accepted before anything else useful can be done. "Only, he said to me what he said to you--that he was still seeing her every day, that there was nothing else to be done. What he said to you! And you talked to him, too, and still he went so far--!"

That Valjean might ignore Bahorel, a man he barely knows, is one thing. That he'd ignore Cosette's own mother--that's something else entirely.

Fantine nods vigorously. "If I want him to see Cosette, and Cosette loves him, what problem could there be? I'm her mother! But he would not hear me." She scowls. "I would much rather Cosette heard the news from you than Javert, though of course you must not blame yourself. How did you know about it? I can't imagine M. Madeleine telling you, he keeps all his secrets so close!"

Suddenly she remembers their first conversation. "Was it--that book?"

He nods. "That book, yes. I hadn't known he was in it at all, you know how he is with names! -- and by the time I knew it was him I was reading about, it was too late, I'd read what he would probably call 'the worst'. Hah, it's all nothing, of course; nothing really against him. But then you know how it is, some people will condemn for anything if they get a chance. I don't blame him for wanting to keep things quiet-- but that he's ashamed of it, that I can't understand." That's not a condemnation or even a dismissal as much as an admission; Valjean's insistence on his own shame is an utterly perplexing thing.

It's something he doesn't have to understand, may not have the right to understand-- another man's heart, not intentionally shared-- so he shakes his head and shakes the thought away.

"The book's not always right. If it were, that spying policeman would be dead; but then, so would your Madeleine. And for what a reason!" A heart is its own business. But actions are another thing. "But he did the rest of what it said he would do--and then some, if he lied to you about it, for whatever reason. You say, Javert, and that makes sense. But then, why not simply tell any of us, when we asked after him? " He frowns again, thinking. "No, something's missing. But it's a good thought, about the spy."

Fantine listens, taking all this in. "He stole bread, Cosette said. That was his crime! How silly and wicked, to blame him for it!"

Javert and Madeleine would both be dead, if the book was right about all. Fantine doesn't know what to make of that, but she turns it over and keeps it in the back of her mind.

"Perhaps he was too ashamed to tell you, or ask for help."

Bahorel makes a noncommittal noise in acknowledgement; not in disagreement, exactly. But such a reason-- he can hear that, he can read it, but the mechanics of shame are always going to be a somewhat academic concept for Bahorel. And still--

"That might be; he's spent enough time with people trying to teach it to him , no doubt. But as far as I can tell-- and that's farther than anyone should have to bother about-- he owes no one anything except you and your daughter. So if you both excuse him, what else is there?"

Bahorel doesn't really expect Fantine to have an answer; he's just comfortable thinking out loud. But after all, she's likelier than anyone to have some insight into the whole mess; it happened in her life, not his.

"Well, he feared Cosette wouldn't excuse him, that she would blame him!" Fantine shakes her head, still confused by how anyone could think that of her Cosette. "And then--there's everyone else, I suppose. He shouldn't pay them any mind, but--oh, it's hard not to, when everyone spits on you. I know it well enough! Perhaps he feels like that, too. It's hard to imagine, with him so strong and brave and good, but I can't think why else he would act like that. And if Javert threatened him, that might simply remind him of his past, it might make him feel all the more ashamed...though I still can't imagine it! Not M. Madeleine." It's one thing for she, Fantine, to feel like that, but this man, who's nearly an angel! "Oh, it makes no sense, but it must be what happened. I can't imagine who else could chase him from Cosette."

"Ah, the good respectable voices of society." Someday, possibly, the thought of it won't make him want to scream and break things! But not today. He looks away for a moment; he's not angry at Fantine. If he knew she was thinking of herself as second to anyone, his fists wouldn't unclench as soon and easily as they do.

But the people he wants to fight are in another world, and even when they weren't, so many of them do stay out of range--well, it's always a joke. He nearly laughs, and shakes his head.

"Ah-! I wish I could have a conversation with those good honest people. Never mind! I take your word for it! And if they can wear away at even you, I shouldn't wonder that they could get under anyone's skin." He's only speaking from a natural estimation of Fantine's own strength, not thinking of flattery, so he makes no attempt to hide the admiration in his voice as he says it. "And if you think that's it--The idea sounds right, it's true. Why else should he try to hide himself so suddenly, and after the wedding, if there weren't some new reason prompting him?" Bahorel nods, thinking; it doesn't seem like an entire fit, but it makes more sense than anything else he can think of.

"I don't have any better theories, certainly, no other clue I know about. --And if I hear anything else that seems to touch on the matter, you'll hear of it too." He smiles and offers his hand; shake on it?

She shakes his hand with a smile of her own. "Oh, you're so kind! That would be very good. Otherwise I would only hear of things from my Cosette, and of course she's very honest, but there are secrets she doesn't know...and I don't wish to seek out Javert." She scowls. She wants to meet him and scratch his eyes out, just to know that she can. But she also wants to never see him again, to never think of him again.

Determinedly, she smiles. "I will be so grateful to hear anything you know."

He presses her hand back for a moment; deal, then! "She's a sensible girl. It's nothing against her if the men of her family don't know enough to rely on that yet; we'll all have to hold them to it, that's all." He's smiling as he says it, but: seriously, Marius and Valjean both need to be spoken to.

"One thing you should know-- and this isn't some rumor, this isn't from the book, it's the truth from my own friends, who were there, and saw it-- your Cosette's father acted so at the barricade that even Javert couldn't accuse him of much. He spared the spy's life; why, I don't know; but he saved many men before then, and harmed none; so that all that could be easily leveled against him would be a charge of aiding the wounded on the wrong side of the barricade, if the law wanted to be honest-- though when has it ever chosen that? But you should know, at least, in case he tries to turn his work there into one of the great crimes he seems to think he's committed. You're not one to be taken in by that line, but now you have the truth of it, to counter him, if you must."

That's an easy thing to share, the good deeds of a kind, if rather foolish and confused, man. There's other things that will be harder for her to consider, but this at least can't even be much of a surprise.

"Oh! But I'm not surprised. He won't harm anyone, he will save everyone he can, that's his way." Fantine shakes her head. "Thank you--at least I will have that to confront him with, if he tries to be silly again!"

Fantine frowns. "Your friends were there? What barricade was this? The one you...died in?"

...she's not actually well up on what happened in 1832.

He nods. "That's right. All of us you've met here-- Joly, Feuilly--Jehan Prouvaire, he was the next to die after me--the same barricade. And Marius, who lived because of Cosette's father. There were others all over the city; ours was the only one exterminated as it was, but everyone had their losses." It's a serious matter, and so he can't help a quick smile. "Kings don't like it when people suggest they be retired, such an admirable love of their job!

He leans forward, serious now. "-- Listen, that's why I tell you this; you know Cosette's father is a good man, you don't need convincing. But he's a stubborn man, too, and careless like good men can be He wants to trust to to God to save him. Very well; a man may trust what he wants; I've no argument with that. But there's your daughter to think of, and she must trust him , and Marius."

"And if the King decides to prove his power over the survivors of the revolt, or if that fine Inspector decides to make things personal-- that's when men should trust in their friends, too. I tried to offer your Madeleine help, before; he wouldn't listen, kept insisting it wasn't needed. And Marius is young and proud; it makes a man careless, too. You have sense, and Cosette; if I tell you people Marius could talk to, friends who can help if help's needed, you'll know how to arrange things between you." These are important matters, but there's no immediate fear in his words. To Bahorel, this is the same sort of practical arrangement as setting up savings, or checking the wheels of a cart before starting a journey.

"Oh! But that's very sensible. My Cosette should have friends she can turn to, if that rogue Javert comes after M.Madeleine, or after Marius. I think--"

Fantine frowns, disquieted. "I think she doesn't have many friends. At least she doesn't speak much of them. But then, she's newly married, and in love."

Though Fantine had been in love, and yet would not have been able to discuss her days without mentioning Favourite, or Dahlia, or Zéphine. And they hadn't even been very nice friends.

"I will give her any names you tell me." Bahorel seemed the sort to know strong, helpful types.

Bahorel gives Fantine a few names, and more information; nothing that could incriminate anyone, but people good to know, people who'll think well of the fighters of 1832. A survivor of the Chanvrerie barricade shouldn't need any further passcode than that.

"I 'll talk to her, too, if I see her--but you'll likely see her sooner, and there are surely things she'd rather discuss with you. Ah, and there's this--" he takes out his sketchbook and writes down three names, reading them off as he does so--respectable women's names, all of them.

"This is I don't mind being on paper. There's nothing very political about these ladies; they have their political ideas, but they could say hello to any officer without worrying. They're just respectable women, married, or widowed, with nice respectable friends, not a touch of scandal about them--but they weren't born Respectable, you understand, and they're understanding about new friends who don't have family names with titles in front going back before the Revolution. If Cosette wants to broaden her circles a little, she could arrange to visit them; tell them she heard of them through a friend from Lyon. They won't pry." And sometimes someone who won't pry is all a person wants for a while.

"Oh!" Fantine understands, of course, about women who weren't born respectable but became so. She's known one who married her student. "That's good, very good. Some things M. Madeleine said...they made me fear the only people she knew were proud and cold."

She takes the paper from Bahorel. "Thank you."

Aftermath

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject