heartbeneathastone (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
heartbeneathastone) wrote2016-01-09 04:14 pm
heartbeneathastone) wrote2016-01-09 04:14 pm
after the infirmary
Marius is attempting to resist the overwhelming impulse to cling to Cosette's skirts like a little boy in this strange place. But he's not a little boy, Cosette has her father to think of-- and apparently, they are not the only people here that he knows.
So Marius is exploring. Though he hasn't gotten very far, because he makes his way down each corridor very slowly, as if afraid the ground will give way beneath his feet at any moment; rounds each corner with as much caution as if he expects some monstrosity to appear at every turn.
So Marius is exploring. Though he hasn't gotten very far, because he makes his way down each corridor very slowly, as if afraid the ground will give way beneath his feet at any moment; rounds each corner with as much caution as if he expects some monstrosity to appear at every turn.
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"But it is for me to decide if I dare ask for it, is it not?"
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He considers the question instead.
'Yes,' he says, at last.
'Of course. So long as you realise that even if you dare not ask for it, it may be granted anyway. There is nothing you can do to stop that. Your wife, for example - surely you will not think so little of her to imagine she might hold it against you forever?'
A cursory glance in the direction of Hugo's work would tell anyone that Valjean will not only forgive, but not consider asking for it necessary or even desirable. No, the problem will be with Marius himself.
'Consider this. That you do not ask, and berate yourself endlessly - something which may be taken as self-pity, I warn you - and in doing so, make the lives of those around you gloomy and dull. How would that be any better? I do not say act as though it is nothing, but perhaps - well, an honest conversation where you voice these fears may help. And if you cannot forgive yourself at once, then let it be known that you will at least try. That you will make some reparation, and allow time to pass and do what it does best. Wallowing in self-flagellation will not help anyone, and may hinder.'
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"Yes," he says slowly. "I suppose you are right."
(When has he ever asked someone's advice on this kind of problem? When has he ever had the chance? It's startlingly-- helpful, to have a clear opinion from outside cut through the mire of his own thoughts.)
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He laughs loudly, and the clasp on Marius's shoulder turns into a friendly push.
'If it doesn't work, then we may consider other options. There are always other options, even if you do not expect them.'
Unless you are on a barricade in Paris, perhaps. But that was a chosen option - and Marius survived, against all the odds. The rest ended up here! Life, and death, are strange and wonderful things.
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"You have always been so kind to me, in ways I cannot hope to repay."
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'There is no need to repay me, Marius. That is what friends are for.'
His life would be easier if he understood that. But never mind, there is all the time in the world to show him.
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"I should go to her," he says at last. A slight hesitation, then he adds, "But you-- you will still-- be here?"
Whether he means here, in this room or here, present, alive is up for debate.
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Courfeyrac is aware that ladies frown on such things.
'And yes. I will be here - this room, or with any of the others, or downstairs, or outside. You can find me here any time, and I hope you do.'
All completely genuine. Courfeyrac has missed Marius, odd young man as he is.
'And you will remember all I've said?'
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Marius missed Courfeyrac, too, though at present he cannot shake the feeling that he has barged in and imposed himself, once again, on Courfeyrac's kindness.
"I will come, and I will remember."