Cosette Fauchelevent (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lark_in_flight) wrote2016-01-24 01:00 am
lark_in_flight) wrote2016-01-24 01:00 am
(no subject)
Marius has ducked into the hall to call for hot drinks. So it's Cosette and her father, alone at last in his Milliways room.
Part of her wants to weep once more for joy. Part of her wants to shout at him. She turns away abruptly to grab a quilt from his bed.
"Here," she says, "put this quilt over your lap, Father. It's winter here. You must take care of yourself! I tell you, we will be here often. You will grow quite sick of us! And then in Paris you will come to live with us. I have a room all ready. I won't hear a word against it. You will be with us, we will all be together, you will be a father to your little Cosette again, and we will all be very happy."
As she chatters she tucks the quilt around him, and pulls a footstool near. If he wants, he can put his feet onto it. Otherwise, she'll settle onto it, to sit at his feet like a confiding child.
Part of her wants to weep once more for joy. Part of her wants to shout at him. She turns away abruptly to grab a quilt from his bed.
"Here," she says, "put this quilt over your lap, Father. It's winter here. You must take care of yourself! I tell you, we will be here often. You will grow quite sick of us! And then in Paris you will come to live with us. I have a room all ready. I won't hear a word against it. You will be with us, we will all be together, you will be a father to your little Cosette again, and we will all be very happy."
As she chatters she tucks the quilt around him, and pulls a footstool near. If he wants, he can put his feet onto it. Otherwise, she'll settle onto it, to sit at his feet like a confiding child.
no subject
He will never not be thankful. No matter what else, Cosette has been worth everything and now Marius makes her happy. He wants nothing more. And now he will live with them! He does not know what to do with such happiness, and can only clasp their hands, his chest tight with joy.
no subject
At last she finds other words. As so often, she takes refuge in fussing over one of them: "But there, Father, you must regain your strength. You must get well again! Here, I will bring you tea. And Bar has sent some good soft bread. Look how white it is! You will have some, I insist." And she chatters on, as she brings him tea and a small plate, and tucks the blanket close around him, and pours tea for Marius and herself too.
But instead of drinking hers right away, she settles down to rest her head on Marius's shoulder, and shed a few quiet tears of joy, and smile to see her father -- her dear father, who will live with them as she always wanted, and be well and happy -- sitting before her, alive and better after yesterday's horrors.