after the party

[heartbeneathastone]

It's quite late by the time the Twelfth Night party finally, fully ends-- and the exhaustion of hosting (much as Marius left that burden to rest on Cosette's shoulders) makes it feel even later as they at last step out of the darkened tent to head back to their room, and to bed.

Marius waits just outside the tent, peering in to make sure Cosette is really following, arm already lifted to offer to her as soon as she appears.

Comments

[lark_in_flight]

"Could we really?"

Her very own house. Not Aunt Gillenormand's house, which has been given into her hands but which still has all its furniture, all its servants with their ideas of how things ought to be, all its weight of history. And Aunt Gillenormand, who never expresses an opinion about the running of the household, but Cosette has never been able to shed the feeling that she might, and that she ought to be free to. But in her own house, she could do everything just as she liked. She could make everything lovely. She could hire servants who would listen to her, who would listen to Marius. Their own house, really and truly theirs.

"But why couldn't we? Why couldn't we, husband? Perhaps Father even has that very house still! But even if not, we have money, we could rent the nicest little house, just you and me and a set of rooms for Father to live with us."

[heartbeneathastone]

"I, well I-- I can see no reason why not." Can't he? Somehow it seems like it should be impossible, but he can think of no real reason why it would be so. "It-- it would be very nice, would it not? To have somewhere a bit-- a bit smaller, a bit simpler than my grandfather's house."

And also with the key benefit of not being his grandfather's house, not being the place he grew up.

[lark_in_flight]

They probably ought to be going along to their room, but the hallway is empty; Cosette catches up Marius's hands and beams at him, caught up in the beautiful prospect.

"Our own little place. Something humble, something sweet, that's all we would need."

And then she falters a little, as a little more reality catches up.

"Do you think your grandfather would be very upset? We'd be in Paris still, we could visit very easily."

[heartbeneathastone]

Oh, he doesn't want her to stop smiling like that-- so he smiles and cries, "Why-- why, to the devil with him! It is your inheritance-- if you wish for a house, you must have one!"

[lark_in_flight]

!!!

Such language, she's a little aghast. And against his good kind -- well, well-intentioned, mostly kind -- grandfather!

But he's smiling, too, and he's so earnest, and overflowing with that decisive generosity she loves in him. Cosette claps a hand to her mouth, blushing -- and then the tension breaks, and she's giggling, giggling, out of exhaustion and delight and the release of tense uncertainty.

"Oh," she manages, "I'm sorry, I'm only tired, it's only -- yes, my Marius, yes, please yes, let's do it. When we're back from Italy, let's do. Our own little house. Let's do. Even -- even if your grandfather's upset, I'm sure he'll come round, won't he?"

[heartbeneathastone]

He's blushing a little at having spoken so in front of her. But his smile broadens when she laughs.

"Yes, of course he will. He adores you, he would deny you nothing." And him, too, supposedly, but-- even now he doesn't quite believe it enough to say so. But if he calls him father, if he promises they will dine with him every week-- then, he thinks, his grandfather can be brought around.

[lark_in_flight]

They're quite alone in the hallway. It's late. No one is around; everyone sensible must be asleep. It really is like the old days (of a year and a half ago), when it was just the two of them in the darkness of the garden, when they made so many fantastical plans and shared so many dreams and never needed to think of the outside world.

Cosette, feeling daring and scandalous, darts forward to embrace him.

"Oh! Then everything would be wonderful. Marius, I do love you. I'm so happy!"

[heartbeneathastone]

Marius holds her close as he says softly, "And I do love you."

And maybe, because it is late and dark and because they are alone-- and because they are married, after all-- he will even bend to kiss her, just quickly.

[lark_in_flight]

Cosette blushes to be kissed, right in public -- even in an empty hallway by her husband. But she tilts her face up for his kiss, all the same, and smiles in glowing contentment, even if her cheeks are flushed pink.

[heartbeneathastone]

He's looking a touch abashed too as he pulls away. And, being Marius Pontmercy, quite genuinely means nothing untoward as he says, "It is very late. We should retire."

[lark_in_flight]

"Yes."

She tucks her hand into his elbow, and herself against his side.

"What a wonderful evening it's been!"

It's a dreamy, distant murmur -- and, to her own surprise, she yawns right afterward.