Let Us Be {Cosette}

[Deleted]

Though Valjean had no plans of attending it himself, he had heard about the funeral that would be held the next day for General Lamarque. He knew that the streets would be full of people, and it might be difficult to move around Paris, so he had decided that their their trip to Calais would be held the following day.

He had yet to tell Cosette, because she had been quiet lately, and he supposed that she was busy thinking about something. He knew that she had not been thrilled at first about leaving Paris, and he had guessed that this had something to do with Marius, but he did not know exactly how deeply she was involved with the boy, and he did not wish to have to make the decision between her safety and her happiness.

She had acquiesced when he had said that they would have to move to a new house for her protection, and she had seemed to know, even then, that just going to a new house might not be the end of their journey. He had been meditating on the decision for some time now, and he had known for certain after encountering Javert that they would have to leave.

That had been reason enough, but now with the agitation in the streets as well... Cosette had said that she hoped that things would get better, but they had not. Things had only gotten worse. He had heard that there was a death at the parade, and people were only becoming more violent now that Lamarque was dead – his house had been robbed once, and he had seen other people wandering around in the shadows of the street when he had been watching from the windows in his usual paranoid night surveillance.

He did not want to tell Cosette, not yet. Was it foolish of him to fear that she might want to run away? She had never made any indication that she would do such a thing, but... he was frightened. For the past ten years he had clutched onto her, and he did not now know how to let her go. “Cosette,” he began weakly, looking around the house, just wanting to see her and talk to her so that he could be reassured that she was still there. “Cosette, my child, come sit with me.”

[followedmyheart]

Cosette was staring out of the window. Perched on the window seat in the small living room with her legs tucked up under her, she leaned against the sill and simply watched the people go by. Although her father had not forbid her from leaving, it did not seem to be an option. Her blue eyes scanned each face that she saw below, praying and daydreaming that one of them would be Marius. Perhaps his eyes would meet hers and in that moment they would know they would be together, always, for certain. This daydreaming usually proceeded to tears, so Cosette had ceased in picturing Marius and instead numbly watched everyone.
She tried picking out faces she knew, only recognizing Eponine late one evening as she slipped from one shadow to another. Cosette had placed her hand against the glass in surprise, sitting up slightly to watch the small from disappear down the street. When she was gone, Cosette slumped back into her acquired position with a sad sigh.
Her Papa was certainly planning. She watched him as they ate and although he never stopped talking to her, he was withholding something. Papa told Cosette everything, or so she figured. Why would he have to keep anything from her? To protect her, she supposed. Cosette bit on her bottom lip, fear and sadness stirring in her heart as she guessed at what it was that Papa was neglecting to tell her.
They were leaving. She could see it in his eyes whenever he looked at her. That somber expression that wished it were not so, that wanted her happiness, but wanted her safe. The parade and the robberies, those occurrences had resonated within her father and she knew: they were leaving Paris. Maybe even France.
This news broke her heart, as it had when she had been forced to simply move from one house to another. Miraculously Marius had found her, but would he always find her? Not if she were across another ocean. Cosette denied thinking of it, but still the nightmare of being parted from him crept into her thoughts.
She was resting with her chin against her knees, her arms wrapped around her legs when she heard Papa's voice, soothing and familiar calling for her.
Cosette lifted her blonde head, looking towards the door. "Papa?"
She untucked herself from her position and trailed to the sound of his voice, tilting her head as she rounded the corner to find him standing in the hall. He was a king, standing in the form of a man. Toussainte had once called him off, but Cosette had been shocked, saying that he was a saint. In this light, the shadows behind him on the walls looked like wings, sprouting from his shoulders as though he were about to ascend to Heaven itself. Cosette wanted to cry and run to him as she had when she was a child, crying into his shirt while he pet her hair and told her everything would be alright. She didn't.
Cosette smiled simply and clasped her hands together. She was grown now and comforting words of how the future would be would not make that future so. "Was there something you wish to reflect upon with me Papa?"
She blinked, expectant, but forbidding what she felt she already knew. Her body felt empty; with a single blow it would be shattered. How was it that she stood so tall, when it seemed she was only made of simple pieces of paper? Delicate and fragile, gone in a gust of wind and forgotten. Her heart longed for Marius, to make her strong and bring a true smile to her face.

[Deleted]

There was nothing that he wanted to reflect on with her; he wanted to move on. His past was going to haunt him forever – not only that, it was going to come after him. And come after Cosette as well. If Javert found them and revealed who Valjean was, a criminal who had broken his parole, then Cosette would be disgraced. No one would want to marry her, no one would be able to take care of her when he was taken away and put in jail, or worse, put on the the chain gang again. He did not think that he would be able to live another nineteen months, let alone nineteen years, in such a situation. It was not that only that his body was weakening with age; it was that he did not think he could live when separated from Cosette. He could still bear heavy objects, but he could not bear that.

“Cosette, I need to speak with you,” he said quietly, his voice low, almost defeated. It was not that he wanted to take her away from this life, the country she had ever known, but that he needed to. He had moved her around as a child when they had needed to do so, but then, there had not been so many things that she was leaving; she was not old enough to know what she would leave behind and miss thereafter. He seated himself beside her, gently covering her hands with his larger ones, and he pressed his lips together, swallowing and then wetting his lips. Though he had decided that he would not tell her right away that they were leaving for Calais tomorrow, he decided that he would have to do so after all – do it now. “I must ask you to pack your things again,” he murmured, closing his eyes, unable to meet her gaze, knowing how this would pain her. “We are leaving for Calais tomorrow.” He knew she would not like it, so he went on to explain, “Things are getting too dangerous here. Only God knows what will happen now that General Lamarque is dead.”

[followedmyheart]

Cosette's eyebrows furrowed as she watched her father. He seemed so distressed. She thought of things that might comfort him: a hug, a cup of tea perhaps. She always took hers with sugar, but he never did. She allowed her hands to be held in his, familiar with the sense of calloused hands. Cosette had traced the lines of her father's hands as a child, memorizing every crease. Now there were new creases, new signs of age she had not memorized. His hands, ever familiar, felt slightly foreign. For one, they were not Marius' and she was sad to admit she was more used to Marius holding her hand these days, than Papa.
"Papa..." she wanted to defy him, to simply say "I can't!" and leave it at that. Her memory reminded her, however, of how the situation had gone last time she had tried to defy him. They had fought and left each other broken hearted. Cosette did not wish to relieve such a sad time.
Cosette sighed, pulling her hands loose and standing up, "I will pack, but there are reasons I wish to stay in France."
She wasn't quite sure what to say past that. Perhaps since she was speaking her mind, it would be enough to make her father pause and reflect.

[Deleted]

Reasons. Since when had his daughter been cryptic? Since when had she even had anything to be cryptic about? It occurred to him that there were times that she must have known things he didn't realize she knew, things she must have seen on the streets that he did not realize because he had been too preoccupied with his own thoughts, wondering if Javert was there, waiting for him around some corner. It had been nine years once between encounters with the tenacious Inspector; would they go ten before another? He had already seen the man, and no doubt they would see each other again. But Cosette didn't know that. He wouldn't let her know that. Since he had secrets, it was unfair to think she would not have secrets as well, he supposed; but she was so young. He'd been alive decades, had so many stories before she had even been born. His hands told them. There were scars on his wrists that he would not let her see from the ropes and chains that had bound him once. Now, only fear held him.

And it was fear now that drove him away. He considered being stoic and demanding. He didn't want to know why she wanted to stay, because what if her reasons were valid? What if she convinced him to change his mind? What if that was what put her in danger? But he found himself relenting as she stood. His brow, weathered with time and sorrow, lifted and he looked at her as she pulled away. He looked at her wearily. Expectantly. “And what are these reasons?” he asked diplomatically, though a hint of annoyance had entered his voice without him bidding it. Plowing on, he murmured, voice beginning to sound more urgent, “Are these reasons enough to keep you in such a place as this?” He did not have to explain the threats to her, nor did he want to. Could he tell his daughter, his beautiful and pure and innocent daughter, that women were being robbed and raped on the streets? That there were people starving and dying of cholera? That innocents were being kidnapped and killed? “I am doing this for you, Cosette." He lowered his eyes in hurt. "Never once did I think I gave you reason not to trust me.”

[Deleted]

Valjean’s wounded expression made Cosette even more distraught than she already was. For a few moments, she could not respond, allowing silence to fill the space around them. She didn’t mean to hurt her father in any way. This was not about trust; she understood that all the decisions he had made for her were in her best interest. She’s never had a reason to even think of going against her father’s wishes, let alone speak up against them. That is, not until today. Not since dear Marius had entered her life, and the promise of their eternal union was so near. His love had filled her lonely world with such warmth and joy. Losing him would render her existence meaningless. She had to tell her father.

Cosette told herself, You must be brave. But when her lips parted, permitting her to speak… nothing. She stood frozen in front of Jean Valjean, her blue eyes wide and sorrowful. Her heart could not muster enough courage to utter a single word. Her throat felt dry and cold. Her lips quivered shut and her eyes squeezed together in frustration. Again. Breathing out softly to calm her nerves, she searched deep in her heart for the strength that she needed. Again. Her eyes fluttered open. For Marius! For our lives as one! You must try once more! “Papa, I—” she cut herself off, trembling slightly. She had too many emotions to even fathom. She had never felt so confused in her life. A few years ago, any reason good enough to speak up against her father’s decision would be non-existent. Such reason would be unimaginable to her.

However, the reason she deemed inconceivable was there. The love she and Marius shared was clearly enough to give her the courage she needed. Still, after years of following her father’s path as if it was her own, Cosette was unable to confess that her heart had hoped for something out of it’s own desire.

She reached out her hands, wrapped her fingers around her father’s, and shook her head sadly. She refused to hurt him by defiance. Enough, she scolded. You’ve done enough.

[Deleted]

He had done enough to make her not trust him? Or did she mean that he had done enough to protect her? Because he wanted her to think that he was keeping her well sequestered from danger, but that was an ongoing process. It wasn't a duty that ended. "It will never be enough," he insisted. They had already moved once, and they had to keep moving, or they would be found again. If not by Javert, or Thenardier... then someone else. There seemed to be inspectors everywhere, but maybe he was just imagining things in his paranoia. But someone had broken into their other house. Javert had been there. And how long would it be before he came after him? After them?

He raised his gaze to meet her wide and innocent blue eyes. She could not know why he had to do this. It would hurt her too much, and there was nothing that she could do to save herself, aside from obey him and leave. And the more people who knew her true origin, the more likely it was that it would be revealed and she would be disgraced. Her chin was trembling, her slender hands gripping his larger ones. This convinced him all the more that she needed protecting. In his eyes, she was still the little girl who he had snatched from poverty and despair. He didn't think of himself as a hero, but he thought of himself as her father. And he would always see himself as her father.

She had to trust him. And he should trust her as well that there was a good reason why she wanted to stay in Paris. But she wasn't going to tell him, it seemed. "Perhaps you will like England," he said hesitantly, giving her small hand a gentle squeeze. "It is..." He considered for a moment. Safe. "It is a new adventure for you." Not that they had had any old adventures either. Swallowing, he looked at her, an apology in his dark eyes. He just didn't know how to say it. He had always been a quiet man, and speaking of danger was worse. "We will wake early. You should sleep."

[Deleted]

(ooc: I meant that like she scolded herself in her head, but IT'S OKAY because I was being unclear. This works, anyway d: Also, this is probably done)

"Perhaps you will like England," Valjean said, squeezing her hand gently. "It is..." [/b]Horrible without sweet Marius,[/i] she thought. "It is a new adventure for you." She looked up, met with her father’s apologetic gaze. She gave him a small smile in return. “We will wake early. You should sleep.”[/b]. Cosette bit her bottom lip and nodded, holding back tears that would surely come if she spoke another word. Her cheeks were now flushed and her eyes were beginning to water. She gave her Papa a kiss on the cheek and another weak smile before releasing his hands from hers.

She walked away slowly, at first, but with each step further she began to run. As she entered her bedroom, she closed the door quietly and stumbled in front her bed, feeling completely numb. She wordlessly stood there for a while, her mouth hung open, her eyes not focused on anything in particular. After what seemed like an eternity, her small frame began to shake. She gripped her chest as her heart pounded painfully against it. She felt as though her whole being was breaking away piece by piece, too soon after she felt that she was whole again. The thought of being torn away from her beloved was far too much to bear.

As Cosette propped herself down onto her bed, she appeared to regain complete composition, even placing a tired grin on her face—practice for when she had to mask her sorrow in front of Papa. Her smile faded quickly. Tears began to stream down her face. She angrily wiped each one away in a panic. “No,” She croaked softly. “No, no, no, no…” Her voice trembled before fading into inaudible whispers. Her hands froze cupped in front of her, catching tears as they fell. It was then when she surrendered herself to soundless, uncontrollable sobs. She collapsed inwardly onto her bed, and remained there weeping until she drifted off to a deep sleep.
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