Mirror
Title: Mirror
Author: litlover12
Rating: PG
Fandoms: Les Misérables
Characters: Valjean, Cosette
Word Count: 676
Summary: It was as if he was his younger self again, looking in a mirror. Set in the convent where Valjean and young Cosette took refuge.
Author's Note: For challenge 207. (My clock said 11:59 when I posted, I swear!) "By a candle stands a mirror/of his heart and soul . . ."
“The gardener’s brother” had been summoned to the parlor to see the prioress on urgent business. As he entered the room, the first thing his eyes fell on was Cosette, though her small figure was almost lost in the shadows thrown by the single candle on the table. The prioress sat in its light, but Jean Valjean scarcely noticed her. He kept his gaze on Cosette, even as she seemed to shrink back further into the darkness, until the prioress gently cleared her throat. He looked up then, and nodded deferentially.
“Fauchevelent,” she said, in her low, clear voice. “I asked you to come here so that I could show you something.”
Only now did he notice that she held an object in her hands-an object that she held out to him. It was a loaf of bread. He looked uncomprehendingly from it to her.
“This was found in Cosette’s bed.”
In the ensuing silence, Cosette forced herself to glance up sideways at the man she had come to think of as her father. There was such a strange expression on his face in the flickering candlelight. Was it anger? She didn’t think so. But she could not be sure . . .
“Stealing is a very serious offense,” the prioress was saying. “Cosette must be made to understand-“
“I beg your pardon, Reverend Mother,” the man broke in. His tone was humble and reverent, but Cosette’s eyes widened at the audacity. No one interrupted the Reverend Mother. But the prioress said nothing, only made a slight motion to him to continue.
“Might I speak to Cosette alone for a moment? I think”-he paused briefly-“I think I can make her understand.”
The prioress hesitated a moment, thinking; then she stood. “I shall be back in a moment, Fauchelevent,” she said as she moved toward the door. He inclined his head again.
As the door closed behind her, Valjean turned back to look at the child, who had moved a little nearer to the candle as if she were less frightened of it now. His heart contracted as he caught sight of the look on her small white face. For one moment he might have been his younger self again, staring in a mirror.
A loaf of bread.
He moved nearer to her and went down on his knees, not just to be at her eye level, but because he did not trust his legs to support him just then. The child was staring at the floor again, twisting her hands together.
“Cosette,” he said, very softly. She did not move. “Cosette, why did you steal?”
The child was silent.
He tried again. “Were you hungry?”
That brought a tiny, almost involuntary shake of her head. Valjean’s brow furrowed in puzzlement.
“Then why?”
“I was afraid.” The words were the barest whisper.
“Afraid? Of what?”
“Afraid that . . . I would be hungry again soon.”
Hearing his sharp intake of breath, she risked another upward glance. His eyes were shining-with tears?
He seemed to steady himself, and reached out to take hold of her shoulders. She flinched a little, but her eyes never moved from his.
“Cosette,” he said, in a low but firm voice. “You must never steal again. Do you understand?”
She nodded, staring into his eyes as if hypnotized.
“You must go tomorrow and make your confession, and you must do what the father tells you. And one more thing.”
She waited, hardly breathing.
“You must never be afraid again.” He lifted a hand to touch her cheek, his voice warming and softening. “You will never be hungry again, Cosette, I promise. I will always make sure you have enough to eat. Will you remember that?”
With a little cry, Cosette threw her arms around his neck.
---
The prioress was satisfied, when she returned, to see the child looking suitably repentant. She graciously received the stammered apology and escorted the little girl to her room. And Cosette fell asleep with tears of relief and joy on her face.
Author: litlover12
Rating: PG
Fandoms: Les Misérables
Characters: Valjean, Cosette
Word Count: 676
Summary: It was as if he was his younger self again, looking in a mirror. Set in the convent where Valjean and young Cosette took refuge.
Author's Note: For challenge 207. (My clock said 11:59 when I posted, I swear!) "By a candle stands a mirror/of his heart and soul . . ."
“The gardener’s brother” had been summoned to the parlor to see the prioress on urgent business. As he entered the room, the first thing his eyes fell on was Cosette, though her small figure was almost lost in the shadows thrown by the single candle on the table. The prioress sat in its light, but Jean Valjean scarcely noticed her. He kept his gaze on Cosette, even as she seemed to shrink back further into the darkness, until the prioress gently cleared her throat. He looked up then, and nodded deferentially.
“Fauchevelent,” she said, in her low, clear voice. “I asked you to come here so that I could show you something.”
Only now did he notice that she held an object in her hands-an object that she held out to him. It was a loaf of bread. He looked uncomprehendingly from it to her.
“This was found in Cosette’s bed.”
In the ensuing silence, Cosette forced herself to glance up sideways at the man she had come to think of as her father. There was such a strange expression on his face in the flickering candlelight. Was it anger? She didn’t think so. But she could not be sure . . .
“Stealing is a very serious offense,” the prioress was saying. “Cosette must be made to understand-“
“I beg your pardon, Reverend Mother,” the man broke in. His tone was humble and reverent, but Cosette’s eyes widened at the audacity. No one interrupted the Reverend Mother. But the prioress said nothing, only made a slight motion to him to continue.
“Might I speak to Cosette alone for a moment? I think”-he paused briefly-“I think I can make her understand.”
The prioress hesitated a moment, thinking; then she stood. “I shall be back in a moment, Fauchelevent,” she said as she moved toward the door. He inclined his head again.
As the door closed behind her, Valjean turned back to look at the child, who had moved a little nearer to the candle as if she were less frightened of it now. His heart contracted as he caught sight of the look on her small white face. For one moment he might have been his younger self again, staring in a mirror.
A loaf of bread.
He moved nearer to her and went down on his knees, not just to be at her eye level, but because he did not trust his legs to support him just then. The child was staring at the floor again, twisting her hands together.
“Cosette,” he said, very softly. She did not move. “Cosette, why did you steal?”
The child was silent.
He tried again. “Were you hungry?”
That brought a tiny, almost involuntary shake of her head. Valjean’s brow furrowed in puzzlement.
“Then why?”
“I was afraid.” The words were the barest whisper.
“Afraid? Of what?”
“Afraid that . . . I would be hungry again soon.”
Hearing his sharp intake of breath, she risked another upward glance. His eyes were shining-with tears?
He seemed to steady himself, and reached out to take hold of her shoulders. She flinched a little, but her eyes never moved from his.
“Cosette,” he said, in a low but firm voice. “You must never steal again. Do you understand?”
She nodded, staring into his eyes as if hypnotized.
“You must go tomorrow and make your confession, and you must do what the father tells you. And one more thing.”
She waited, hardly breathing.
“You must never be afraid again.” He lifted a hand to touch her cheek, his voice warming and softening. “You will never be hungry again, Cosette, I promise. I will always make sure you have enough to eat. Will you remember that?”
With a little cry, Cosette threw her arms around his neck.
---
The prioress was satisfied, when she returned, to see the child looking suitably repentant. She graciously received the stammered apology and escorted the little girl to her room. And Cosette fell asleep with tears of relief and joy on her face.