The Law is Not Mocked }{ tag: robin as javert

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #423c42;,true][cs=2] THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST ` MUST BE JAVERT HE'S FOUND MY COVER THIS IS A WARNING TO US ALL WE MUST AWAY TIME TO LIVE ANOTHER DAWN AND LIVE ANOTHER - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - day
[atrb=width,240] Rarely, almost never, did Jean Valjean leave Paris in the nine years that he had been here with his adopted daughter Cosette. Paris was a bustling city where he could safely blend in, and it had everything that he could possibly need within it. Namely, it had Cosette, it had food, and it had shelter - that was all he needed to live. He was getting old now, but his life had always been simple; growing up in poverty and then living in jail without worldly goods for twenty years could do that to a person. True, he had made his fortune in the factories as Mayor Madeleine, but beneath his alibis, his frugality had remained the same. So had his determination to keep Cosette safe, and far away from Javert. It was not only that they would be separated; it was that her reputation would be tainted forever when people realized that she was the daughter of a prostitute and the adopted daughter of an escaped thief. That was all anyone seemed to care about - what a person had done wrong. No one knew his identity here, but he would not take that for granted. He would not assume that Javert was no longer following him, even nine years later. That was why he left Cosette at the convent, telling her that he needed to make a business arrangement, though he doubted that she believed him. He needed to find out where Javert was. Of course, if he asked directly, then someone would find out that someone had been asking about Javert's location, and that would seem suspicious. Everything he did seemed suspicious to his paranoid mind. His life consisted of walking on tiptoe - and he was a big man for that. Though he hated to leave Cosette alone, it was safer for her that way, to make sure she was not associated with him if he were to be caught somehow. He had heard that a new inspector was to be appointed for the town, and he wished to see who it was, from a distance, in a crowd. Hiding in plain sight. He hid his chin behind his cravat, hat tipped low over his face in the misty Paris morning. He lingered at the gates, waiting with some officials of the city. Just one glimpse at the inspector, to see whether he must stay or go, and then he would leave. Leave perhaps forever. He did not want to live without Cosette, but that was why he had to do this.	[atrb=width,140] words , 426 words tagged , javert notes , bonjour inspector!
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[ÉMILE JAVERT]

Javert was quick to stride through, while the new inspector was not him, he was on duty watching the crowd. For some reason it seemed to be his newest duty. Maybe it was solely because he was so eagle eyed. He cast his gaze over the crowd, making no attempt to hide in the early morning mist. His coat collar was pulled up and his hat tipped to keep the slowly rising sun from glaring in his eyes. He stood slightly straighter, if that was at all possible, as the new inspector was given his commission, given his duty and generally sworn in, remembering fondly how it felt to receive such a high honour.

This reflection was paused as he noticed a small disturbance in the crowd, back more towards the gate. Silently he moved stalking through the crowds that parted before him - much like the red sea for the escaping Israelites - quietly breaking up the brawl, moving to ask them both to step outside the main crowd. He didn't wish to disturb anyone else in this moment. As the two started to move where he'd indicated he let his eyes ghost over the rest of the people, checking for any other disturbances, that may indicate a third party trying to escape. He stiffened slightly as he spotted someone vaguely familiar. He couldn't lay hands on who it may be though.

A frown furrowed his brow as he turned away to ascertain exactly what had just happened walking out of the crowd his thoughts distracted by that strange happen-stance. Totally unexpected naturally. He arrived at where he'd directed the two to only to sigh as he noted two had become one. The remaining one was someone obviously affluent. Another pick-pocketing case. Now he thought about it the other did seem familiar. Silently he took down all the details, made his usual assurances that he would capture the thief in question. Satisfied the male returned to the edge of the crowd, and he moved back to his original position. All the time though he was pondering, thinking. He was trying to work out who he was being reminded of.

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #423c42;,true][cs=2] THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST ` MUST BE JAVERT HE'S FOUND MY COVER THIS IS A WARNING TO US ALL WE MUST AWAY TIME TO LIVE ANOTHER DAWN AND LIVE ANOTHER - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - day
[atrb=width,240] The dark eyes of Valjean moved constantly through the crowd - not enough, he hoped, to make him look diseased or nervous. He gave cursory glances here and there until his eyes fixed on the man who he feared, yet somehow knew, would be there. Javert. Perhaps if he were as quick and lithe as he once was when he was young, he would have had to force himself not to look away too hastily and draw attention to himself. But as it was, he did not move immediately, paralyzed by fear. So Javert was truly here. If Valjean escaped, and he must, then he would go to Cosette and move them at once. It was no longer safe for them here. It was almost reassuring, to have his worst fears confirmed, to know that his paranoia was justified. Now he knew that he was right to leave, that even after nine years, he was not safe from Javert. And neither was Cosette. But he looked different now; he was older, so old he should be dead. Javert, however, looked exactly the same to him. Thank God, thank God, another disturbance in the crowd - he was safe for the moment. Javert must have seen him. He must use this chance - but slowly, carefully... As soon as Javert had turned the other way, he began to ease through the crowd as well as he could. Though people pushed against him, many recognized him as their benefactor from some time when they had been down on their luck before "the generous man from St. Etienne's" intervened on their behalf, and let him through. But Javert's distraction appeared to have ended; shockingly, he did not go after the escaped pickpocket. Probably a Thenardier; they were most slippery. So was Valjean. But today, luck was not on his side. He must make his own luck. He was at the edge of the crowd now, opposite of Javert. But it might not be enough. So he hunched his shoulders and limped. If he was sighted, he must look unlike himself as much as possible.	[atrb=width,140] words , idk words tagged , javert notes , bonjour inspector!
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[ÉMILE JAVERT]

Javerts gaze fell back onto Valjean as he'd made his move, he'd noticed the disturbance in the crowd as they'd moved to let him through. Quietly he himself moved, striding around the edge of the crowd though, not straight through it. He was careful to move over first to the officials to speak with them, trying to gain information upon who he may be.

Then he was striding on around the perimeter of the crowd, to a better vantage point. He knew that Valjean had never truly been able to mask the 'prisoner shuffle'. The slight dragging of the right leg caused by the prisoners having to drag the weight of their chains as they'd moved. But he couldn't use that as proof alone, that much he knew.

His blood was already up from the chance of a chase. Indeed if it hadn't have been for his duty here to ensure the peace of the crowd, he would have chased the pickpocket. As it was that had been all that had kept him from chasing. So now he wanted to discover everything about this new person of interest. His mind was a constant whir as he noted information down, or double checked some fact in his mind against what he was visually seeing. He may have aged, but his mind was sharp as ever. He didn't know if this person who had piqued his interest was the man he'd hunted, surely he was dead?

He'd died making an escape. But enough was there to convince the inspector that this was worthy of his attention for now. There he was, a definite limp present, but he looked unwell. Quietly he walked towards him, throwing his gaze over the other, trying to decipher any information he could. "A place to go monsieur? You should be careful, the streets that way are not safe," it was an itch. He felt like he should know the person but he couldn't work out why.

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #423c42;,true][cs=2] THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST ` MUST BE JAVERT HE'S FOUND MY COVER THIS IS A WARNING TO US ALL WE MUST AWAY TIME TO LIVE ANOTHER DAWN AND LIVE ANOTHER - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - day
[atrb=width,240] Nineteen years in prison had impaired Valjean in many ways, not limited to a constant limp. That was the least of his impediments, one which he had been able to overcome, not to hide it, but to function in society, and even to move quickly. It had been evidence of his incarceration even when his parole papers had been destroyed, but as he aged, people chalked it up to failing health, perhaps gout. Prison had impeded not just his walk, but all progress in life, and though he had been successful in many endeavors, how fitting it was that on the right leg he dragged as if holding a phantom manacle, there seemed to yet be a ball and chain constantly at his heel: Javert. And Javert was too close to him already. Just being in the same city was too much, for though Valjean was good at disguise, Javert was even better at detection. Nine years of living in this city and coming to know it - its hiding places, its dark alleys - could be Valjean's only advantage. But if he was caught here in the open, then all was lost. All. He knew he'd attracted Javert's attention - was it possible that the inspector had grown so doggedly single-minded in his determination to hunt down Valjean that he would neglect other duties? But not for nine years, nine years during which Valjean had pretended to be dead. Yes, with the years, Valjean grew closer to death, and it grew easier to play the feeble old man that he was becoming, but he was for now very much alive. And if he could convince Javert, he might stay that way for long enough to save Cosette. Slowly, he turned when Javert addressed him, not facing him directly. "Home, good monsieur," he answered hoarsely. "My gout... it is flaring in this weather, and the crowd..." He trailed off and coughed. "I thank you, monsieur. But I can find my own way. A gentleman does not lose his pride with his health. God bless you." And with that, he started to ease away. Hoping. Praying.	[atrb=width,140] words , idk words tagged , javert notes , bonjour inspector!
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[ÉMILE JAVERT]

"Then let me accompany you monsieur, I have need to patrol that direction anyway," it wasn't often that Javert would leave his post, but this was one of few times he would. He couldn't escape the niggle in his mind that near on demanded he check this out. He didn't often let his instincts rule him, but this once. Well... his instincts when they niggled this much were rarely wrong. He wanted to see just where he lived. It would after all make it much more easier for him to try and find out more information.

He knew the patrols could wait, but this couldn't. "Besides I would hate for anything to happen to an upstanding gentleman such as yourself," the story checked out. Gout could cause such a limp. He needed proof. Proof that he would be unable to get if he couldn't find more information about this fellow. He was trying not to show his eagerness to find that information out however, to show such could be the end of any chance if this was the man he hunted.

He didn't know, he couldn't be sure. He just needed to satisfy this niggle in the back of his mind then he would be contented. "There are many a pickpocket out there, never mind killers that would just as easily stick a knife in an old mans back for the coin in his pocket, and as you are clearly a man of some standing it is my duty to ensure your safety," he added on. Maybe not normally his duty to do so personally but it was surely a plausible reason. Even if he turned down company he would still tail him. On pretense of patrolling the streets. He was almost certain there were enough police present to quell any other instances that were in danger of happening.

His brown eyes raked over his surroundings, if only to ensure that it wouldn't seem like he was paying over much attention to the person in front of his eyes. He couldn't afford for him to become suspicious if it was who he thought it was. Even though the fact he should be dead was telling him that it couldn't be he couldn't hold his curiosity back. His own instincts were telling him differently to what the facts said.

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #423c42;,true][cs=2] THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST ` MUST BE JAVERT HE'S FOUND MY COVER THIS IS A WARNING TO US ALL WE MUST AWAY TIME TO LIVE ANOTHER DAWN AND LIVE ANOTHER - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - day
[atrb=width,240] It took some effort, but Valjean thought that he managed to not look too unnerved when Javert insisted that he would accompany him. "Thank you, monsieur. You are most gracious. I have no wish to trouble you, but if you insist." Perhaps they were only playing a game now - a most dangerous one, that if Valjean did not win, he would lose everything. The stakes were high in this gamble. Did they both know that the other already knew? Certainly 'patrolling in his area' could be taken to have more than one meaning, and Javert intended to patrol there solely to find out more information about the old man who he escorted. Or perhaps Valjean was only being over-cautious, but he could not afford to be otherwise. So, Javert wished nothing to happen to an upstanding gentleman, eh? Was that a veiled threat? Certainly, he wished nothing bad to happen to an upstanding gentleman, but Valjean, upstanding gentleman he may be, knew Javert would never believe that Valjean was. "Ah, monsieur, but all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God," he quoted the Holy Scripture. "But in His mercy, He keeps us from getting what we deserve." Oh, how mightily and desperately did Valjean pray now that God would once again have mercy on him, and not let him fall into Javert's hands! Lest the words be misconstrued as suspicious, Valjean added, "I have only little, monsieur, but I am rich in love. I am only a simple man of God, no worse or better than any man. The world is not my home. I do take residence in a House of God, however." None of these things were lies, but he had no intention of leading Javert to the convent where Cosette had stayed. "No offense to you, monsieur, but our Heavenly Father will protect me amply from harm." Perhaps that, too, was something of a veiled threat! He started to limp off, slowly, towards another church; there were many here. "Perhaps people are not as bad as you think, though surely you have seen the worst of them."	[atrb=width,140] words , idk words tagged , javert notes , bonjour inspector!
[cs=2] TEMPLATE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING OF CAUTION 2.0

[ÉMILE JAVERT]

"It is no trouble at all," Javert responded calmly. He was watching him - not directly though. He knew to look at him directly and watch him directly, it would seem as if he was suspicious and that certainly wasn't his current goal. Oh he wanted to find more about him, but he knew that this could take patience. No matter, he could be a rather patient person.

"Yet God in his mercy saw fit to send his son to die upon the cross for our sins that we may know forgiveness, monsieur," Javert responded easily. Slowly he was starting to lose his guarded focus, allowing himself relax slightly. Even if this wasn't a person he was looking for, even if he was indeed dead, he was almost... enjoying the conversation. It may be a change from his normal rituals but for once it was worth it. If this was the person he doubted was dead - despite all proof that he'd died - it would only be all the more worth it.

"Then as a man of God allow me to walk with you regardless," he stated. He was keeping his motives hidden. Currently with his guard rather... down... it was more for the fact he was in a way enjoying conversation, even if he was currently almost ignoring his duty. Oh he was still scanning, his eyes watching everything, looking for the worst in every situations, every person who was crossing the streets - or else sulking in the shadows. He was suspicious of the intentions of everyone.

That didn't stop the slight... start... at the persons comment about not everyone being as bad as they may seem. His skin had paled slightly. "Alas in my line of work we see the very worst of people daily, all I can do is follow the law and do my duty," he stated trying to keep his voice calm as if he hadn't been flustered at all. Did this person know him, at all? His eyes grew slightly introverted as he was slightly reminded of his time within the jail.

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #423c42;,true][cs=2] THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST ` MUST BE JAVERT HE'S FOUND MY COVER THIS IS A WARNING TO US ALL WE MUST AWAY TIME TO LIVE ANOTHER DAWN AND LIVE ANOTHER - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - day
[atrb=width,240] Valjean tried to swallow his feelings of concern when Javert insisted he would escort him, lest he appear suspicious. Instead he would focus on the conversation at hand. At least as much as he could. Unfortunately, the subject they had found themselves on - whether God preferred law or mercy - was one close to Valjean's heart, rather too close to discuss without incriminating himself. "Ah m'sieur, you do but make my point for me," Valjean replied, with a faint smile. Could he truly be talking theology with Javert, the man who was hunting him and perhaps at this very moment knew his true identity? This had even higher stakes than their previous discussions when he had been posing as a mayor nine years ago. "You think it is cruelty that Jesus died? Yes, that is true, but He chose it, to come down from Heaven and endure it all for our sakes. He bore the punishment that we all should have had so that we would not have to." That was not just; Jesus had lived a perfect and sinless life and taken the punishment for all sin. Jesus had been killed by men like Javert. He nodded thoughtfully as Javert continued, saying all he could do was follow the law. "A noble notion, m'sieur. That is precisely what the Pharisees said," Valjean murmured. "Yet our Lord preferred the company of taxpayers and prostitutes. Did He not say that true religion is caring for orphans and widows? Did He not say that the only sacrifice He truly desires is love for Him? Did He not say that the greatest law and command is to love God and love other people?" All of these words were spoken calmly, but behind them, Valjean had great feeling. He was not just addressing his own desire to be spared punishment - that punishment he would undoubtedly face, someday, but not today; not until he had made arrangements for Cosette. He also spoke of the people's general ignorance of the impoverished, many of whom had done no wrong. In his fervor to save Javert's soul, Valjean had foolishly forgotten himself and his own life. Perhaps he was becoming more like Jesus after all. But if he were killed, he would not rise from the dead, and Cosette would be disgraced and alone. That was why, when he bent to press some coins into the hands of the beggars who recognized him as "the generous man from St.-Etienne's," he held their hand an extra moment to give them a look and nod to Javert - indicating that he might have something for them. As Valjean straightened and slipped between them, the two beggars stood, effectively blocking Javert's path. "God bless you, sir," they said hoarsely, pocketing Valjean's coins as their hungry eyes remained on Javert. Valjean, for his part, continued to walk, not in a hurry, though he had begun to limp with more expediency. For only a moment, he turned to tip his hat to Javert. "My home is here. Thank you, m'sieur." Please, leave it there. He knew how easily Javert could push past the beggars and follow him. He knew he could hide in this church, he knew a hundred ways to leave it, but he was getting old, and would prefer not to run. Javert would only catch him again. First eight years, then nine years, between meetings - Valjean would not live another ten.	[atrb=width,140] words , idk words tagged , javert notes , bonjour inspector!
[cs=2] TEMPLATE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING OF CAUTION 2.0

[ÉMILE JAVERT]

Javert was more then willing to enjoy the discussion, less guarded, even less relaxed. "The law though you have to agree, monsieur, brings a certain level of order that without would bring everything falling down," he stated calmly. "Our Lord Jesus was a kind and just man, pure and without sin as you have already stated, however in this day and age there is too many poor to give alms to all of them without a risk of chaos forming. The rich give what they can on certain days, but the pick pockets are always after more," he sighed at that reminder. He was sure that impudent brat Gavroche would have him gray soon.

"There are many who would seek to abuse charity, to steal more to make it so those who would give will no longer give, and then what would happen? No one would give and the streets would be lined with the dead," Javert was already ignoring the standard practise law. He didn't often turn a blind eye to law breakers but where would he drive the beggars out too? The city he knew was still recovering from the revolution, and it was now his duty to try and.... repair it once more, or at least assist in keeping things together while she repaired herself, with God's blessing of course.

"Maybe some other time we can continue our discussions on God and the law monsieur?" he offered, tipping his top hat to the man he'd escorted any thoughts of suspicion having long since left his mind. Without thinking on it he pulled out some small change pressing a few coins into each of the beggars hands, silently praying to god to bless them with better fortunes. Then he whirled on his heel striding off, heading away losing himself in his thoughts. It was a debate he often had with himself. The law of the land or the Christian law. Sadly he knew he fell far short of the Christian law. How could he balance the command to forgive others of their tresspasses as God forgave his own against what he'd seen growing up?

He shook his head pushing them back down again, still they rose unbidden from the depths of his mind. In jail as a child he had seen the worst of society, the worst treatment humans could give - or at least in his viewpoint the worst treatment. It had shaped him more then he'd dare admit to.

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #423c42;,true][cs=2] THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST ` MUST BE JAVERT HE'S FOUND MY COVER THIS IS A WARNING TO US ALL WE MUST AWAY TIME TO LIVE ANOTHER DAWN AND LIVE ANOTHER - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - day
[atrb=width,240] “Oh, undoubtedly, monsieur,” Valjean replied respectfully when Javert said that the law was a requirement for society to function. “There is a reason why God set down the law in the first place. It is just that mercy is equally – indeed, more – important than the law.” He smiled faintly, nodding in agreement with Javert's words. “Jesus lived a perfect life, and perhaps no other man can. But is a man a true follower of Jesus if he does not at least endeavor to do so? Endeavor to follow the commands of God both to follow the law and to be merciful? These commands were given to us for our own sake.” He glanced around at the people on the street around them. “Monsieur, one of Paul's epistolaries to the people of Corinth speaks on this subject most eloquently. If I remember correctly, he speaks of giving to others when they have need, and knowing that someone will give to you when you are in need. Even those who have wealth, he says, must not have too much of it.” He gave freely of the sous that were in his pocket. He was getting old and would not have need of them much longer, he expected. He wished to secure a future for Cosette after he was gone, naturally, but he also wished to leave her with a legacy of generosity to people truly in need. He expected the pickpockets wanted more because they were still hungry. For a moment he was quiet, stewing over Javert's angry comments. “I am certain you know more of the matter than myself, monsieur,” he said obediently. He did not mention that the streets were already filled with the dead who had starved or faced hypothermia. The aristocrats had been killed some thirty years ago, it was true, but what had changed? There was a new king, but the destitution remained. It would take radical generosity and mercy, not radical killing, to make things better. But Valjean was no philosopher, and he was no revolutionary. He was only a simple man trying to make a good life for his daughter – a man of God, he had said honestly. Valjean could also sincerely offer a smile to Javert. Could it be that he was safe, that all suspicion had been removed... at least for the time being? “Perhaps,” he agreed. “No doubt our paths will cross again.” He noted with slight warmth rising in his heart that Javert had given to the beggars. Yes, he had forgiven the man who had hunted him – the man who had found him again, it seemed without even knowing it.	[atrb=width,140] words , idk words tagged , javert notes , bonjour inspector!
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