What Little People Know (Gavroche <3)

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

When Mylene first had woken up today, she had not been sure whether she had been dreaming.All of what had happened yesterday felt so … weird and inexplainable to remember, it was a mass of so many memories assaulting her mind the minute she had opened her eyes that she had not been sure what to believe. Only the entry in her journal she had completed before going to bed, her own scrawny handwriting telling her of yesterday's events, the light pain in her ankle and not least Courf's dark green cravat she had draped over the taboret next to her bed had finally convinced her that she must have been wide awake, and that all of it actually HAD happened. The dancing, the horrors at the parade, the dead gypsy woman, her flight with Courf to the catacombes, and then...

For the dozendst time this morning she shook her head as if to clear it, and suppressed a smile. This had come rather unexpected and there was no saying if there ever would be a repeat again. There was nothing as romantic as love between them, even though there surely was a great deal of affection, otherwise Mylène would have never let it come so far. She was not a cheap girl off the street and she would tell anyone where to get off who would ever try to treat her that way! And anyway… wasn’t it a little out of line to feel so… buoyant while everyone around her was keeping their heads low? The events at the May Parade had set the city into a shock state, and then right in the morning people had started to spread the news of General Lamarque’s death. It had been a matter of days of course, but the timely connection of these two news had rendered the whole city of Paris in an explosive mood. The funeral would be in three days time, and there would be a procession of his coffin through the city, so everyone could pay their respects to the ‘People’s Man’.

The streets itself had settled into an eerie calm after the chaos yesterday, and who did not have urgent business to attend to stayed behind the safety of his own doors. That also meant less customers than usual around noon, and it gave Mylène some time to actually do something for her own self, setting up the preparations for the powder theft she had thought up with Eponine and which they wanted to stage three nights from now… on the eve of General Lamarque’s funeral. For this they had agreed on needing first and foremost a wheelbarrow and two or three barrels, both things she could lay her hands on easily here. The landlord and the menial had recently brought out a few of the empty wine and beer barrels for the supplier to exchange and had stacked them in the little alley behind the café’s backdoor for the moment and soon enough Mylène found herself to be out there, testing them for their suitability. They had to be dry yet, since any dampness and powder was as fatal as a spark and powder, and they also had to resemble those ramshackle barrels the ragpickers used on their rounds.

Her back turned to the entrance of the alley, she was quite invested into her screening, when she suddenly felt something, the slightest of touches at her hip where her pouch with change for the customers was. Someone who hadn’t grown up as a pickpocket on the street might not even register that barest of touches, but for Mylène it triggered her alarm system, even after a few years out of ‘practice’. Her hand darted to her side and her fingers closed around the nimble ones that had dared to venture towards her personal belongings, holding them fast. “Wouldn’t do tha’ if I were ye!” she commented calmly, and only then turned to look at the ‘culprit’.

[gavrochethenardier]

To Gavroche, this day felt exactly the same as the last. He’d woken up in his elephant in the early hours, and he’d gotten up for the day in the same style as always. It was only in the later hours, when he had gathered his wits about him once more that he remembered what had happened the day prior. He’d seen someone die. That wasn’t something he saw every day. Even on the streets, death was slow. He’d seen people so starved and thin that he wasn’t sure if they were still breathing or simply the living dead. It was slow, it was subtle, and nobody noticed. Criminals and thieves came and took your body, and that was the last anyone would see of you. It was cold and harsh, but it was his reality. But someone had been shot. A life severed in moments. He’d wanted to run to Eponine, to be the ‘ideal’ little brother and hide. But that wasn’t brave. That was weak. In a time like this, he couldn’t be weak.

Death hadn’t been the only thing he’d seen that day. He’d taken to the streets, creeping out through dark alleys and along rooftops when they were low enough. He was quite aware that Eponine and Courfeyrac would have been absolutely mental at him for this little ‘adventure’, but there was simply nothing else Gavroche could do to try and clear he horrid image from his head. He’d dawdled over to the catacombs, a place he’d loved to have gone into one day. But once more his fear gripped him. Surrounded by the dead, structured into walls, and empty skulls staring at him wherever he went made his legs seize up and his heart to pound. Gypsies apparently danced in their masses down their, in a little ‘Court of Miracles’. Those Gypsies. Always around, and degraded by society, much like himself. They may be different, but Gavroche didn’t particularly care. A person was a person, after all. Living as a street rat had taught him that much. But as he’d approached the catacombs, he’d seen Courfeyrac and another of his friends, Mylène, emerge from within. He’d watched them lazily from above, impressed to see Courfeyrac communicating with a woman and not hitting on her too hard. They snogged. Gavroche gagged. He managed to scramble off, hoping to not be seen by the pair.

The streets were silent. As he made his way through in the early morning, there was nothing. People were scared. He knew. The tension moved through the air, as if it were sneering at everything in sight. People stayed inside, and even the rats seemed to disappear into their dark holes. The place was a silent parade of mourning and terror. While it was peaceful, Gavroche did not enjoy the fact that there was nothing to do. His little gang had hidden themselves away, far too fearful to come out onto the streets. There was nobody to pickpocket, no people to throw snark at, and there was nobody to cause trouble with. It was a bit of a bore. The only place that he could think of holding any interest would be the Musain. Enjolras would surely be riled up about what had happened, and of course, he would have a plan of action. The other boys would surely have something in mind, and Eponine was sure to have thought something up. Then Mylène was sure to be involved. He wanted to see her. She understood him. Maybe not as well as Eponine, but she had cheek, and she had trained like him. He loved it. Someone to get along with, without having to worry to act like the annoying little brother. Taking the indicative, he headed for the Musain.

Once had had arrived, he’d seen Mylène on her own. She had her pouch as well. Feeling a devious smile spread across his face, he crept quietly along the café, making his way silently towards the older female. With his quick nimble fingers, he reached for the pouch with dexterity far surpassing his years. It was when she caught him that he remembered that she had been a pickpocket too. Looking up indignantly, Gavroche shrugged. “I was just checkin’,” He cocked an eyebrow up, wriggling his fingers under her hand. “Maybe someone else had taken ya things.” Of course, it was quit the lie, but Gavroche didn’t care. It was good to see her safe. “What ye been doin’? Other than snoggin’ Courf, ‘course.” He grinned cheekily, waiting in amused anticipation for her answer.

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

Only when Mylène turned around to see who the cheeky soul was that had tried to steal from her, she realized that it was by no means an unknown face. Her eyes fell on a little boy with blond curls around his ten years, dirty and grimy from living on the streets, yet his eyes sparkled with a liveliness and cheek that was second to no one she knew, maybe apart from herself. “Gavroche!” she exclaimed, a tint of surprise in her voice she could not quite hide. Catching herself soon after though, she let go of his fingers and took a step back, examining him from top to bottom. He didn’t look too bad, and this was why she suspected he had tried to steal from her more out of mischief than out of necessity. “I shed have known…” she chuckled, shaking her head. “An YE shed have known better than te try and get me pouch. Checkin’ on it… me bum! Ye can tell tha’ yer precious elephant.”

Leaning against one of the larger barrels and propping her hands up there behind her back, she prepared for a little idle chitchat with her favourite gamin. If the landlady needed her, she would be called and as loud as her voice could be, there was no reason to fear she would miss it. And the more she played out the leisure card right now, the less Gavroche would be interested in what she was doing out here with the barrels, and why she had been so interested in them. Just like Ponine, she wanted to keep Gavroche away from danger as much as that was even possible. He was a handy little fellow, and he surely had courage enough for two grown men, but just like Mylène herself he was therefore cursed with the flaw of severe recklessness. If he had so much as an inkling of their plan to steal powder, the hole National Guard plus the King’s Cavalry would not be able to keep him from that particular storage.

A little too late she realized that it was not even necessary to distract him from the barrels, but that he rather was out to rub her nose into something… something completely unexpected and shocking!
“What?!” she exclaimed before she could stop herself and immediately pushed herself off the barrel again, standing upright, subconsciously going into the defensive for a second. Her mind started to race while she tried to keep her wits about her at all cost. It was probably nothing but one of his cheeky remarks that had hit right home as a lucky shot! There was no way Gavroche could have seen her and Courf, no one had been there! Not on the streets… her inner voice reminded her. You didn’t exactly check the roofs…!
Outwardly, she had caught herself again and even managed a merry laugh. “Me an’ snogging Courf?! Who put that bug in yer ear? He’s got ‘nuf greluches runnin’ after him, dun ye think?”

[gavrochethenardier]

Gavroche was pleased to see Mylène. His pride wasn’t going to let him admit it, but he knew deep down that he did. Regardless, he felt no remorse for his little ploy. He’d probably have given whatever he took back, or at least gotten food for himself and some poor kid on the street who didn’t quite understand how to use the ‘cute’ factor to get what he wanted. “Good to see ya, Mylène.” He gave a broad grin, his eyes sparking with his mischievous nature. Wriggling his fingers once they were free, he looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. “Ya gotta tight grip there,” He stuck his hands in his pockets, puffing his chest out in an attempt to look taller. “Ah, ye see, if’d had been ‘nyone else, Javert’d be gettin’ involved.” He nodded knowingly. “What? Ya don’t think I’m just tryin’ to do ye a service? Oi! Me elephant is great.” He huffed indignantly, crossing his arms.

Looking around, Gavroche couldn’t find anything to lean against. He didn’t particularly mind, however. He had his elephant to laze around in when he was fed, with his little excuse for a bed made from parts he had stolen from the zoo. It was a rather bizarre little ‘house’, but he liked it there. But now the peace was disturbed. His elephant wasn’t likely to be half as safe as it used to be, and the streets weren’t much better. One had to be vigilant, an eye on every nook and cranny for a National Guard or a crook who was making the most of the situation. Rooftops were excellent safe havens, but riddled with falls and holes and broken wooden planes. He’d gotten his way around in his own little way, and he stuck to what he knew. He’d wanted to return to the Les Amis, but they seemed rather tight-lipped about whatever they were planning. It irked Gavroche greatly, but he knew that he’d find a way to wheedle it out of them somehow. He always did.

Gavroche cracked a devilish grin. “Ya ‘eard me right.” He scoffed, crossing his arms. “I saw ye from the rooftops. Ye’d just come up from tha’ dead place,” He shrugged. He’d never really learnt the name of the catacombs. He just knew that it was full of a lot of bones. Raising his eyebrow at Mylène again, letting out a little bit of a cheeky giggle. “I ain’t dumb, ya know. I saw it wif me own eyes.” He gave a confident nod. “Ain’t been no one puttin’ ‘ne ideas in me ‘ead.” He nodded indignantly. “Ha, like ‘e actually pays attention to ‘ne of them.” Gavroche laughed. “I fink he’s got his eye on a certain barmaid from down ‘ere.” He gave her a cheeky wink. He was enjoying himself far too much. Romance wasn’t his concern, but to his friends, it seemed to be a major factor in their lives. Well, except maybe Enjolras, but he was a different matter entirely. It seemed to be the price he had to pay for most of his friends being adults.

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

A cheeky smile flickered over Mylène’s face as she felt the pride of old days coming back for a second. The times when she had been the leader of her own little gang and while she had never been brutal, she had known how to hold her own in a world that was mostly dominated by boys and grown men in the underground of Paris, and that had given her a certain reputation. Having a strong grip was only one of those things, and she remembered the time now two weeks back when she had threatened that boy who had always been around Les Amis but who had turned out to be a noble brat to tell her what his intentions were. She hadn’t seen him ever since… so maybe she had been a little TOO fear-instilling then. Oh well… such people did not belong into the disguise of a gamin, there were enough true ones around to deal with, including Gavroche here who was the best of his kind in Mylène’s eyes. Self-dependant, free-spirited and still highly optimistic and sunny even through the life he led. That’s how she liked her street people to be!

“Good te see ye too, lil man!” she replied fondly, but careful to keep any condescendance out of her voice. She remembered all too well how it felt to not being taken at face value because you were small and a child, which showed again in the way he puffed out his chest. “An of course, ye know… Mylène’s none te be messed with. ‘s not only me grip ye shed beware of!” She rolled her eyes at the mentioning of Javert, remembering her newest clash with him all too clearly. “Ey, as if Javert had anythin’ on us, right, Lil Man?!” she exclaimed with a snorting laugh. “He gets points fer tryin’, bu’ tha’s all there is te it!”

Her confidence however was waning right now, and it was clearly because Gavroche had caught her complerely unawares in breaking to her that he had seen her and Courf. As unplanned as this all had been, the consequences of their actions had not been thought out either, and up until this very moment she had hoped there would not be any consequences at all. What should she do now? Ask Gavroche to keep it to himself? But that would indicate she was not comfortable with it and had something to hide. And that was a sign of weakness like any sign could be, and Mylène La Coquine did not allow herself any weaknesses! That was what had kept her alive until now!
Playing indiffierent probably was the best policy here, so she tried that.
“Ah… yeah, so ye saw us, sneaky fella. Wasn’t exactly planned tha’ way, but wha’ can ye do. A friendly kiss can do no harm they say.”

Courf and having his eye on her? That made Mylène start and cock her head. Alright, they had been flirting for years literally, but that didn’t mean anything! “Psh, this man’s got his eyes on every person wearin’ a skirt”, she warded off with a dismissive gesture. “Ye know him… we all know him!” After all, this had happened only yesterday and there was yet no knowing if it would happened again – or if they both even wanted this to happen again. This was why she had wanted no one to know before there was a bit more clear a situation. Courfeyrac had other things to do… preparing a revolution for one!

[gavrochethenardier]

Gavroche had always fancied leading a gang. He’d never really wanted to run a violent gang like his father, but the concept of a gang had always been appealing. How great would it be to have people fear you? Having people look up to him was something he rarely came across. If anything, people looked down on him. Even worse, people called him ‘cute’. He wasn’t cute. Well, to himself he wasn’t. And he really didn’t want to be thought of like that. Cute little Gavroche, running around on his tiny little legs and causing havoc… that thought made him shiver with disgust. People could be so disregarding of him. The Les Amis had taken a while to respect him, but they’d finally come around. But very few people outside of them looked at him with any form of respect. The rich looked at him with either distain and pity, and nothing annoyed him more than that. Yet he still bounced along with that cheeky grin on his face.

”Ah, when ain’t it good ta see me?” He gave her a cheeky grin, that little ego of his shining through. Mylène talked to him as though she he were on the same level as her. ”Ah, ‘course,” He grinned again, clasping his hands behind his back. ”Ye gotta keep an eye on that one, ya dun wanna be on ‘er bad side.” He gave a solemnly nod, trying his best to sound as serious as he could. Gavroche and serious did not flow well in the same sentence. ”’Course he’s got nothin’. ‘dere ain’t anythin’ ta find. Just a bunch o’ kids tryin’ ta change the world.” It was big, but nothing to go to jail for.

Gavroche knew he’d hit something. He still wasn’t quite sure what he’d saw, but he knew it fell into the category of ‘romance’. What a fickle thing. Gavroche found it gross and unnecessary, but he was still young. Everybody had found it somewhat gross when they were younger. It was a shame that hormones got involved as they got older. To her words, Gavroche let out a laugh. ”Friendly kiss? That ain’t just a friendly kiss. I dun have any idea what it was, but it was more than jus’ a friendly kiss.” Here he was, Gavroche, the failing love guru. ”I may be a youngster, but at least I know ‘nough to know what that was. ‘s still gross though.”

Gavroche watched her with an amused expression. Ah, how she protested. It truly was entertaining. But then again, wasn’t everyone when romance got involved? He now found Marius’ presence absolutely hilarious after he’d met that girl. Colette, wasn’t her name? ”Ye, that mayb’ true, but why’d he act now? He’s ‘ad years.” Gavroche shrugged. Mylene and Courfeyrac had known each other long enough, hadn’t they? Any skirt infatuations Courfeyrac had pertained would have surely faded by now. He’d have to be truly interested to keep it going now. It seemed such a shame that the revolution left no time for any of this. But alas, such things had no influence over Gavroche.
 

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

Mylène gave a snort of amusement at Gavroche’s failing show of seriousness, when he told her earnestly that one better not messed with that girl called La Coquine. He was a droll one alright, and she didn’t mind him making fun of her that way. They were not competing over anything, being in a completely different league. Given half the chance, Gavroche would get the cute lil boy bonus anyway, he was certainly the favourite gamin to roam the streets. Everyone but his poor victims loved him, and even those sometimes would rather not call the police on him, because they were too enthralled with his boyish charm and wouldn’t want to see him hurt. Yes, call that crazy, but Mylène had actually witnessed it from afar more than just once. “Bu’ ye gonna keep an eye on tha’ one boy too, ye know”, she replied with a wink. “Golden locks make him look like such an angel, bu’ he’s a rascal devil, I tell ye. Before ye know it, he’s got his hands everywhere an’ yer a pouch or a pocket watch short.”

Just a bunch of kids trying to change the world… my my, that better not be overheard by any of the Amis, Mylène thought with an inward grin. And yet, she couldn’t deny that that sentence was too true. The lads might be not really kids, but in the eyes of those who had already seen more of the world, they could come across a little naïve. It seemed all too easy to change the world like that, but then, what was the better alternative? Not trying at all?! That was certainly not Mylène’s intention, and she knew it would be more the problem to keep Gavroche away from the fighting than to incite him for it. “Well, if our dear Javert tries te show up at the barricade or sumthin, we’ll know how te welcome him, dun we?!” she offered with a sassy grin. “He might be too much o’ a coward though!”

Oh Gavroche! He had that way to make even a slightly embarrassing revellation – that he had seen her with Courf which had SO not been planned to be overseen by anyone! – a highly amusing affair. Mylène laughed heartily as he wrinkled his nose and called the kissing gross. “Grown up enough to know wha’ it is – presumably – an’ yet findin’ it gross? Tha’s typically ye, Lil Man!” she laughed, shaking her head. “Lemme assure ye, in a few years’ time ye’ll not find it gross at all, and ye’ll have loads o’ girls at yer heels. If ye spend any more time wi’ Courf tha’ is… cause he might be bad influence on ye!” This of course was said with a wink to show she was by no means serious. She could see it though…Gavroche in a few years time, the rascal heartbreaker, he was certainly of that material!

She didn’t want to talk about possible consequences for what had happened though. There would either be consequences or there would be none, but it was far too early to say – and why overthink things anyway? “Ah, who knows wha’s inside this lad’s head”, she said, making a dismissive gesture. “There’s far more important things goin’ on at the moment than wha’ might or might not be between us, don’ ye think, Monsieur Curieux?”