Stars
Title: Stars
Author/Artist: wtfjustgoforit
Character/Pairing: Ti Moune, young Javert, Elphaba
Fandom: various musicals
Prompt: #2: metaphor
Ti Moune isn’t quite sure what’s going on.
Daniel called her the river, the moon, the stars. He told her she was beautiful and innocent and wild. He said that he loved her.
And yet - somehow - somehow she is not convinced.
It shocks her: why must she be convinced of love? She traded her life for his. She followed him, left everything she knew behind so that she could be with him in his terrifying world of rich people. She defied the very gods.
How can she have done these things without being certain of his love?
When he told her about the Grandhomme girls, with their perfume and their French schooling and their fine clothing, she had felt so very small in comparison.
(And, come to think of it, when she imagines the Shiz girls like Galinda and the white-skinned real French girls, she wonders how she can have come to associate with such sophisticated people as Javert and Elphaba.)
And she expressed her anxiety to Daniel, confided in him, and he -
Well, he told her how she was so different from all of the “cultured” girls.
The moon and stars, he called her. It must be a metaphor for something, but what?
Love?
The next time they meet for poker, Ti Moune worriedly tells her friends of the latest development, although she can guess their responses.
(Elphaba’s sarcastic reply, with laughter in her eyes, and Javert’s laconic one.)
And Elphaba does indeed react the way Ti Moune thought she would, but Javert …
Javert says nothing at first, but after studying her (and she is so glad she cannot blush like either of them, how embarrassing that would be!), he says, “I can see how he would come up with that description.”
“What?” says Ti Moune, startled.
“The moon and stars. That’s you, Ti Moune - hah - to a T.”
(“So funny I forgot to laugh,” says Elphaba dryly.)
“But what does it mean?” asks Ti Moune. “It certainly sounds nice, but it’s just words, isn’t it?”
“Well, think about the stars. They’re beautiful, aren’t they? And foreign and strange and full of light.” He pauses. “That must be how he sees you.”
“It’s a metaphor,” puts in Elphaba.
“I knew that,” says Ti Moune, a bit more petulantly than she means it to sound.
~
And again, Ti Moune and Javert are the ones left at the end of the game. Elphaba’s in school, and technically Javert has a job, but for some reason he doesn’t ever seem to worry about being tired.
She helps him put the matchsticks back into their boxes. And once or twice - accidentally on her part, though she’s not quite certain about him - their fingers touch.
She glances up at him, but Javert has an excellent poker face, so of course he gives away nothing.
If there’s anything at all, she reminds herself. Which there probably isn’t. Not for her, anyway.
“You like her, don’t you?” Ti Moune says casually.
“What?”
“Elphaba. You like her.”
“Well, she’s stubborn as a mule, and she drives me up a wall, but I suppose I like her. I like talking to her, at any rate.”
“No - I mean you love her.”
At this he laughs. “Love her? Hardly. I’m twenty years old, Ti Moune. What on earth do I know about love? And besides, I’d be half mad if I loved her.”
“Why’s that?”
“Do you have to ask?”
Their eyes meet, amused and bemused, and he chuckles. “Oh, Ti Moune. There is so much you don’t know.”
“Yes, Daniel has told me many times,” she replies, and her lips quirk into a frown. “He compared me to a child.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“I am eighteen, Javert, not a child anymore. And Daniel is only a year older than me. I do not see how the difference of a year can mean so much.”
“It means the world, Ti Moune. Especially now.”
She harrumphs once, and they lapse into silence, broken only by the sound of matches being settled into their boxes.
Time to go, and just as he is about to leave, he says, “You know - you really are like the stars.”
Author/Artist: wtfjustgoforit
Character/Pairing: Ti Moune, young Javert, Elphaba
Fandom: various musicals
Prompt: #2: metaphor
Ti Moune isn’t quite sure what’s going on.
Daniel called her the river, the moon, the stars. He told her she was beautiful and innocent and wild. He said that he loved her.
And yet - somehow - somehow she is not convinced.
It shocks her: why must she be convinced of love? She traded her life for his. She followed him, left everything she knew behind so that she could be with him in his terrifying world of rich people. She defied the very gods.
How can she have done these things without being certain of his love?
When he told her about the Grandhomme girls, with their perfume and their French schooling and their fine clothing, she had felt so very small in comparison.
(And, come to think of it, when she imagines the Shiz girls like Galinda and the white-skinned real French girls, she wonders how she can have come to associate with such sophisticated people as Javert and Elphaba.)
And she expressed her anxiety to Daniel, confided in him, and he -
Well, he told her how she was so different from all of the “cultured” girls.
The moon and stars, he called her. It must be a metaphor for something, but what?
Love?
The next time they meet for poker, Ti Moune worriedly tells her friends of the latest development, although she can guess their responses.
(Elphaba’s sarcastic reply, with laughter in her eyes, and Javert’s laconic one.)
And Elphaba does indeed react the way Ti Moune thought she would, but Javert …
Javert says nothing at first, but after studying her (and she is so glad she cannot blush like either of them, how embarrassing that would be!), he says, “I can see how he would come up with that description.”
“What?” says Ti Moune, startled.
“The moon and stars. That’s you, Ti Moune - hah - to a T.”
(“So funny I forgot to laugh,” says Elphaba dryly.)
“But what does it mean?” asks Ti Moune. “It certainly sounds nice, but it’s just words, isn’t it?”
“Well, think about the stars. They’re beautiful, aren’t they? And foreign and strange and full of light.” He pauses. “That must be how he sees you.”
“It’s a metaphor,” puts in Elphaba.
“I knew that,” says Ti Moune, a bit more petulantly than she means it to sound.
~
And again, Ti Moune and Javert are the ones left at the end of the game. Elphaba’s in school, and technically Javert has a job, but for some reason he doesn’t ever seem to worry about being tired.
She helps him put the matchsticks back into their boxes. And once or twice - accidentally on her part, though she’s not quite certain about him - their fingers touch.
She glances up at him, but Javert has an excellent poker face, so of course he gives away nothing.
If there’s anything at all, she reminds herself. Which there probably isn’t. Not for her, anyway.
“You like her, don’t you?” Ti Moune says casually.
“What?”
“Elphaba. You like her.”
“Well, she’s stubborn as a mule, and she drives me up a wall, but I suppose I like her. I like talking to her, at any rate.”
“No - I mean you love her.”
At this he laughs. “Love her? Hardly. I’m twenty years old, Ti Moune. What on earth do I know about love? And besides, I’d be half mad if I loved her.”
“Why’s that?”
“Do you have to ask?”
Their eyes meet, amused and bemused, and he chuckles. “Oh, Ti Moune. There is so much you don’t know.”
“Yes, Daniel has told me many times,” she replies, and her lips quirk into a frown. “He compared me to a child.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“I am eighteen, Javert, not a child anymore. And Daniel is only a year older than me. I do not see how the difference of a year can mean so much.”
“It means the world, Ti Moune. Especially now.”
She harrumphs once, and they lapse into silence, broken only by the sound of matches being settled into their boxes.
Time to go, and just as he is about to leave, he says, “You know - you really are like the stars.”