Light in the Dark {Cosette}

[Deleted]

Valjean did not know what it was to be loved, other than by his Heavenly Father and as a brother-in-Christ. He did not know what it was to love, other than as a father and as a brother. He knew the overwhelming power of love which had manifested itself, in him, as a desire to protect and comfort a child (who he still viewed as a child). As for romance, which made one feel vulnerable and endangered, he knew not of its effects. So he had been unable to account for Cosette's behavior of late, and the realization that she had been trapped in a fancy struck him like a thunderbolt: suddenly; unexpectedly; thoroughly.

After the chaos of the night, he had returned her to their home, where there was silence except for the soft ticking of the minutes going by on the clock. For a few moments he hardly knew how to gather his thoughts or what to say. He sank heavily into a chair, feeling, for once, his age. How young and hot-headed all the revolutionaries had been! And to have ladies among them! It mollified Valjean. He knew that they must do what they had to do to live, but... God have mercy on us all, he could think only. There was madness on the streets. This house was their refuge, but he knew that he could not keep Cosette here, not now. Here in Saint-Denis, Valjean owned this house on Rue Plumet, and another in Rue de l'Homme-Armé. He was almost tempted to go there, more out of the way. He was tempted to take them to Calais straightaway. How could he not, after tonight? But after tonight, how could he?

From his seat in the chair, he rubbed his hand over his forehead, which he felt was becoming increasingly creased with wrinkles of worry as much as age. He took off his hat, exposing the graying hair. After he gave a heavy sigh and composed himself, he glanced up, his eyes searching for his daughter. Had she sulked off to her room? He could understand if she was upset, after everything. He approached her, hesitantly. Never had he had any reason to tiptoe around her before. Of course he gave her space, as she was a young lady now, but that she would place space between them willingly through secrets... it had been beyond him until recently.

“Cosette?” he asked tentatively. His eyes searched her face. “Cosette, my child... are you alright?” He was not only asking about how she was feeling about the chaos on the streets, but the emotional trauma. Or the emotions from... other things. He hardly knew how to ask about such a topic, and he almost did not want to know, but he felt it was his paternal duty to at least ask after her.

[followedmyheart]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 380px; background-color:#E3E3E3; border-left: 3px solid #331E13; border-right: 3px solid #331E13;] wandering child, MAYBE SHE COULD NEVER SEE YOU THROUGH HERSELF

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Cosette lay stretched across her bed, her arms tucked under her pillow to prop it up against her head as she thought. She was still wearing her dress from the May Day's events, having only bothered to take her shoes and gloves off. Even the brightly colored flowers, weaved through her hair, were still in place as she thought to herself quietly.
The sound of her father's footsteps caused her to pick up her head, looking towards her door. She always kept it open, should he ever want to enter. Even on tonight, with all her misunderstood feelings and pent up thoughts, she kept it open. The pathways to love should always be kept open.
Swinging her feet daintily over the side of her bed, Cosette scooched to make room for him next to her. She placed her hands in her lap, feeling the heavy weight of exhaustion finally set in now that her head wasn't spinning.
Her father was the sweetest man she knew. She almost wanted to laugh, he looked so worried that he would say the wrong words to her when he could fail at nothing. He was a saint to her.
"I'm afraid I am not myself Papa," Cosette sighed, casting her eyes down in guilt.
She had surely cracked his heart today out of her own selfish desires. All of the virtues that he had taught her, the morals that the nuns had instilled within her - she through them away in the single glance of one beautiful boy.
She knew that he would never wish her to keep anything from him and that he was used to her out pour of emotions to his listening ears. Cosette chose to start from her simple thoughts, the ones that would not surprise him and that he could easily give advice to.
"I am fearful for those out on the streets. The young boys and even the girls we saw tonight...I do not wish them to get hurt by the soldiers."
The small child that no longer existed outwardly, but still remained at the base of her innocence, longed to be comforted. She leaned her blonde head on his shoulder as a tear slid down her cheek. Would she abandon her love for him in the place of the love from another? Before today she wouldn't think so, but her actions spoke of deeper desires. Cosette didn't want to confront this adult world of hard decisions and heartbreak. She wanted to remain young and free, to frolic in her garden with her father always at her side. It made her heart ache to know that someday her father would be taken to Heaven, leaving her behind. She should be enjoying every last second with him, instead of falling in love with revolutionaries.
"Why did God make love so beautiful Papa, only to have it hurt so terribly?"
Marius was sunlight to her, illuminating the dark shadows of loneliness in her light. His pretty words and smiles made her feel as though she were made of butterflies taking flight on the breeze. How was it possible to love one boy so much? She felt weak and strong at the same time, with the ability to battle an army, but blown over with a simple whisper.
She could not go through life without her father. She would have no life with Marius. It was selfish to desire both, she knew this. Oh, if only Marius would call on her! To see his face again, to hear his voice. Had her father ever been in love? Perhaps he knew this feeling, of being so full and so empty at the absence of one's love.

i love brooklyn from caution !!!

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[Deleted]

Even though she did not immediately answer his question as to whether she was alright, Valjean was reassured at least when Cosette invited him to sit beside her. She had been a quiet and thoughtful child, one who did not chatter endlessly to fill the silence. He supposed now, as well, she was considering her words before delivering them. But the quiet was not just companionable silence; he knew this as she looked at her hands folded in her lap. Her words only compounded his concern. “Not yourself?” he repeated, because he was not certain what else to say, or even what she was trying to say. What could it mean? She was still Cosette. But a growing Cosette, he supposed. She was no longer a child. Could he bring himself to admit it?

His brows furrowed, his eyes remaining on her face as he gently placed his warm hand on top of her slender fingers. “I fear for them as well,” he confessed with a heavy sigh. How could he comfort his daughter about something that even he did not know for certain could be made well? “They are students, are they not? They ought to be intelligent enough to get out of the way.” Mounting a rebellion against such a large armed Guard... it was madness. Yet he did not believe his own words, not entirely. The group had scattered tonight, but that did not mean that they would always do so when faced with a gun.

There was more reason to fear that than the simple humanitarian in him. He did not want anyone to die. Cosette had always cared for the welfare of others as well, but perhaps she had more investment in this than in other causes. And if she did, well, then so did he. He did not see the tear slip down her face, but he felt her temple resting against his shoulder, and he closed his eyes, lips pressed together in sadness. He did not know how to answer her question, because there was no easy answer. “There are... many kinds of love,” he murmured at length. His paternal protective love for Cosette, which gave him more joy and fear for her safety than anything else had ever inspired, made him think of Solomon's plea to his beloved to “Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death.” He did not think that Cosette was pained by her love for him, however. He could only think that, after today's events, she meant the boy. Marius. “Love... makes one vulnerable. Yet it also brings comfort.” He fondled her hands gently, warming them and trying to smile. “It is a mystery to us, just as the God who created it; still they both pursue us all in different ways.”

[followedmyheart]

Cosette certainly felt calmer with her Papa at her side. He brought with him the sense of home, a place of roots and safety. It was the same feeling she had always had since they met in the woods. From her foggiest memories that feeling still remained, long after she had forgotten every thing else from that other world. His warm and worn hand on top of hers brought a solidity that she felt only when Marius graced her with his presence.
She was glad when her father spoke aloud his fears for the revolutionaries. As terrible as being in fear was, it was not so scary if someone was there to share her fear. The burden of worry felt lighter on her chest as her father took some of it upon himself. She felt better when he spoke of the intelligence as well. Yes! Her Marius was no doubt as smart as any scholar or lawyer, he would know to keep out of harms way. Courfeyrac and Enjolras however...had placed themselves right in front of it. The most Cosette could do at this point for the young men was pray with all her heart that they returned home safe and sound.
Cosette counted her heartbeats as she waited for her father to answer her questioned. It was weighed with countless other questions, so she did not grow irritated with him when he did not answer immediately. She heard a faint sigh of sadness from him, so often uttered that she had grown accustomed to it.
Love makes one vulnerable. She thought of herself standing in front of Marius at the May Day Parade. He could have uttered one word of hatred or turned away from her completely without a word and she would have shattered into a million pieces. Yet she trusted him completely and rightly so, for he had kissed her hand and called her angel. His angel.
Was this the comfort of which her father spoke? No, that comfort seemed to lie within her father himself. The warmth he brought as he rubbed her hands between his and the love that radiated from him, in the advice that he gave. That comfort in Marius was unknown to Cosette at the present. She hoped one day she would know it.
Cosette echoed her Papa's smile with one of her own. It was a relief to know that love was unfamiliar and a mystery to all, and not just herself. She did not feel quite so uneducated then. Other questions plagued her mind, but she felt the need to withdraw them. Too much curiosity might make her father believe she was looking to leave him.
Still, she did not want him to think her sad. "Are you alright Papa? After today and tonight's events?"

[Deleted]

Was he alright? Of course his daughter would think to ask him such a question; she had a gentle and caring heart that always concerned itself with the welfare of others. However, to be asked... it was rather foreign to him. For one thing, he rarely thought about himself, as he was always too busy thinking of the welfare of others. He never considered what the state of his health might be unless he was truly struck down, and perhaps that was one reason for his age-defying strength, aside from the fact that he'd built up great physical toughness during his time as a prisoner. For another, it was impossible for him to not be alright. He had to be alright, because he had to be alright for Cosette. There could never be a crack in the fatherly facade. He knew that he was not perfect, nor did Cosette have to think him so, but he still wanted her to; he still wanted her to think of him as her Papa, strong and fearless and capable of protecting her.

But even if he was strong and capable, he could not be fearless. To be fearful because of a boy, and to be caught in that fear by his daughter...! It was humbling, to say the least. His hands stilled on hers, because he knew that she already sensed her answer. In one way, yes, he was still alright; he was physically healthy, especially for his age. But to be reminded that his daughter did not belong solely to him had affected him deeply, even if not yet fully because he did not fully perceive its effects. She had not left him. Not yet.

Forcing a smile, he replied softly, “Yes. I am alright.” And he was alright, as long as she was with him. He had the love of his God and his daughter sustaining him no matter what. He lifted one of her slim hands and pressed a kiss to it to reassure her, then set them back in her lap, giving it a gentle pat. “You needn't worry about me, child.” He eased himself from the bed, suddenly and strangely aware of the complaining of his joints, and looked towards Cosette. “Come. Kneel with me, and let us pray for your friends.”

[followedmyheart]

Cosette found herself at the bittersweet paradox of willing one's parent to live forever. All children grow into adults knowing that those before them will pass before they do. It is a reality which is instilled with them, a simple fact they must accept. That does not make it any easier. Her mother, only a flickering image in Cosette's memory, she passed. One day Papa would as well. Cosette was caught in the spiraling despair that comes with reflection upon these sad futures. Who would she live with? Would she always be alone? Who knew her better than her father, all her fears and failures and would still accept her? In short, who would ever, in the world, love her as much as the man sitting next to her.
Cosette's only answer was Marius, his smile coming to mind. Perhaps that was how her father would come to accept this revolutionary boy: a protector and love for his daughter. She would not be running away into some wild destiny, but merely be passed from the loving caring hands of one man to another. This epiphany brought a sense of peace to Cosette. She no longer felt a raging war within her heart as to who her loyalties were bound to. She could have her cake and eat it too, God willing.
Having lived with her Papa for so long, she knew that he was telling her the truth, but only half of it. He was physically well yes, but something troubled him. Cosette did not pry. It was not in her nature and what he did not speak aloud to her, he truly wished to keep to himself. Papa shared literally everything with Cosette; she thought it only fair that he contain at least a few precious secrets to himself.
She smiled as he pressed a kiss to her hand, remembering all the times he had done so in her life. On cold winter carriage rides to Christmas services, Easter mornings and summer days spent in the garden.
She thought of Marius and how he had kissed her hand before willing her to safety. It was completely different feeling and left a warm ache in her chest where her heart was placed. Oh how much she wanted to see that wayward young man.
"Yes!" Cosette agreed quite enthusiastically to praying, her grey mood having vanished and replaced with something much sunnier now that her heart was not divided as it had been before. God would keep the students safe as he did her and her Papa.
She swung off the bed much faster than she would have thought possible, her new purple dress falling around her like a princess as she knelt and folded her hands before resting her chin against them. It was an old ritual, one as old as the time summed up she had spent with her father. For as long as she could remember, there was only Papa and praying. Love and God.
Cosette, having closed her eyes, opened one to peek at her father. When he prayed silently, he was so still. Not the faintest twitch of flicker of movement. She had never achieved such a feat. When he prayed aloud it was a song, smooth words gliding over one and another so prettily that she had always thought he was a master at praying. He was a saint.

[Deleted]

Valjean knelt at his daughter's bedside, just as he had done for so many nights over the years. In the earlier years, he had prayed aloud, then smiled to hear her repeat the words. As she grew, she developed her own relationship with her Savior, the omnipotent yet personal God; she could pray for herself. Some nights one of them had prayed aloud while the other was silent; other nights, they took turns; other nights, they prayed silently. There was no schedule to it, they just prayed as the Spirit led and let it happen naturally. There had been some nights that Valjean prayed silently to the God who was the only One who knew all his secrets. He had never prayed aloud on the nights when he had been pleading with God to protect them from police inspectors and knowing criminals. He had no qualms about verbalizing his gratefulness for their blessings; his fears, however, were less easily spoken.

That said, he had never considered that Cosette might pray silently because she had her own secrets, that there were things she wished to present before God the Father but not her earthly father figure. Not until tonight, at least. He balked at the idea of praying aloud, because he knew it would make her think that she had to do so as well – and though part of him wanted to know what was on her heart, part of him did not because he knew it would pain him. His own heart was too full for words anyway, so he bent his head and quietly poured out his thoughts to the Lord.

Heavenly Father, as You have forgiven all of our sins with Jesus' blood, I pray You would forgive my selfishness, he began – a bit grudgingly at first, but as was usually the case, when he brought himself before God, any hardening of his heart was removed swiftly. Protect the boy. Show me how I can help him.

He spent a few fervent moments in the silence before he exhaled heavily, as if expelling his burdens, and slowly got to his feet. He offered a weak smile to his daughter, then offered her a hand to help her up. For a moment, however, he merely looked at her where she knelt, shaking his head slightly. She was not a little girl anymore. “Of all the blessings God has given me, you are the greatest,” he said, very quietly. He was a quiet man, not verbose in his praise, but his actions spoke loudly enough. Still holding her hand, he added, “I swore to Him that I would protect you.” He lowered his gaze, brows furrowing in concern. “Promise me, Cosette, that you will stay inside. The streets are not safe.”

[followedmyheart]

Cosette thought of how she had grown over the years. This bed had seemed so enormous to her when she was just eight. She had looked at her towering father, how tall he had appeared to her then. She had thought him the tallest man on Earth. The bed had swallowed her in sheets and soft blankets when she was small. Now it was just the right size for her young lady's form. She often missed the feeling of safety though, being engulfed in all of those blankets. Or when she had had nightmares and cuddled up next to her father's side in his bed. Although his sheets and blankets were not as fine as hers for he did not spend the money on such luxuries, it was the warmth and safety she had found in his presence that made even the coldest winter's night bearable.
Cosette had been hoping for her father's guidance to prayer, but she knew she could pray on her own. Perhaps he had more to speak on his mind that he wished not to worry her with. Cosette settled comfortably, her chin resting on her folded hands as she poured the day's events out to her Father above. She prayed for the safety of Marius and his friends, her newfound acquaintences and even that of the soldiers who had fired tonight. She prayed for the woman who had lost her life, that she had been reunited with God in heaven and was in a better place. Last of all she prayed for Papa. For his health and his mind, that he would not dwell on worry for her and would remember to put his stress upon God.
She took longer to pray than Papa, who was on his feet before she had finished. Her eyes blinked open as she said her final Amen and she tilted her head to the side, to indicate to her father that she had completed her prayers. With a smile she happily accepted his hand to pull her to her feet.
Cosette had not expected her father's kind words and found herself tearing up. She blinked hastily to hide her tears, she did not want him to think it was distress that caused her to cry. It was sheer love, the absolute love that he gave her. She was a simple girl, one that he had raised despite having no experience. He had given his life and all his possessions to her, never asking for anything in return. What more could a daughter ask for in a father?
She squeezed his hand lightly, hoping that he could sense that she loved him just as much as he loved her. He was a prince to her. An angel from above.
Her forehead crinkled in confusion. Why would she go outside? She wanted to promise her father fully that she would stay indoors. Upon thinking of Marius however, her heart tugged inside her chest. What if he called upon her injured? Even if it wasn't Marius, should it be Courfeyrac, she could not deny him medical attention. She understood her father's wishes, but she could not tie herself to them.
"I promise to stay inside Papa," she nodded, "Unless God wills be to do otherwise."
It seemed like a loophole big enough for her to fit through should she need to. Cosette would never use God as an excuse, but should He will her outside she would follow His command. Destiny would lead her where He wished her to go.
Cosette toyed with one of the ribbons on her dress with her free hand. It was late, and still being properly dressed felt odd. She wasn't uncomfortable, but would rather be in her soft nightgown and house robe.
"I should change," she smiled softly, "after such a long day I find that sleep beckons me. Thank you for calling upon me Papa."
Cosette reached out and touched his cheek lightly, adding as an afterthought: "I love you."

[Deleted]

Valjean did not know why his daughter would go outside, either – but he imagined that it would be much easier for her to find a young man a reasonable excuse to be persuaded than it would be for him. He could not think that Cosette would willfully disobey him. Not on something serious, as visiting a mystic or begging to go to a street parade had not seemed dangerous... However, she might not consider Marius dangerous either. He did not know the young man well enough to know whether he were of good moral character. He had met him twice in passing, but that was all. He did not know him, and already he felt that he had ample reason either to love or to hate him!

As for Cosette... he knew her well because he had raised her, but sometimes he wondered whether he had done everything right. No one could ever do everything right, but in keeping so many secrets from her, perhaps she did not fully know the precariousness of the situation that they were in. In taking her to give out alms and teaching her to care for strangers, perhaps he had not made it clear enough that she was not supposed to talk to them. Yet when they weren't helping the poor, they were staying inside. And that was the way it would have to stay, especially after tonight.

Still, her objection was... valid. He clenched his jaw for a moment before exhaling slowly through his nose. A slight smile tugged at his lips. “Very well,” he conceded good-naturedly. “As the Lord hath need, it is hardly my place to deny Him.” Naturally did his gaze grow distant, almost as though he could perceive, in the other room, the candlesticks that had been given to him so many years ago. “Especially not when He has been so generous with us.”

His brows furrowing a little as she said she wished to sleep, nonetheless he gave a nod. It was getting late, wasn't it? He realized that he did feel tired; the adrenaline was gone now, though his worries were not gone completely. It had been a long day for both of them. “Of course,” he said gently. His expression softened immediately as her palm reached his face, and he leaned into her touch with a tender smile. “And I you, my child. Sleep well.”

He straightened, eyes remaining on her as he lingered for a moment before slowly returning to his own quarters to further ponder and pray.