ADIEU » LES MISÉRABLES | ✓

CHAPTER ONE

ACT ONE.

❝ night after night,
we'd sit and wait for the morning light.
but we've waited far too long
for all that's wrong to be made right. ❞

___

Claudine thought a secret was an exhilarating thing.

There was a strange thrill associated with secrets. A satisfaction of knowing what someone else didn't. They were hers to keep and hers to give; no one could take them away from her.

Her largest secret came in the form of a plain woven band which all the gypsies had. Once unraveled, it became a map to the Court of Miracles. Giving it to an outsider was a declaration of complete, utter trust, and on rare occasions, love.

Though she seldom traveled out of the catacombs, she always carried it with her. It was nice to own something of such a great significance; nice to hold on to the hope that someday, someone would love her enough to accept who she truly was.

___

Going out onto the streets of Paris was never an easy task for Claudine.

She couldn't get used to the air. Clear and fragrant, permeated with various aromas, it was a far cry from what she was familiar with. Back home, the smell of smoke overpowered everything else, infiltrating her body, numbing her senses.

She was suddenly aware of how clearly she could feel things - the rough fabric of her trousers, the relentless shining of the sun, the weight of the money in her pocket, and the presence of the large Bastille Elephant that loomed over the streets, dark and ominous. Through the quivering afternoon heat, she thought she caught a flash of something yellow near the beast's head, but when she squinted for a closer look, it was gone.

And, she realized, her eyes widening in horror, so was her money. She groped her pocket, unsettled by its weightlessness, and sighed. A cold anger washed over her. She owned very little, which made her all the more possessive of all that she had. 

I will castrate that bastard, she thought, pinching her lips into a thin, stubborn line.

But the thief was a woman.

Her furtiveness gave her away. She moved like a cat, silent and nimble, slipping through the spaces in the crowd like water. 

Claudine clenched her fists, maneuvering her way through the people with considerably less skill than the thief. Her movements, though not graceful, were packed with determination and ferocity, giving her speed. She caught up with the girl, her hand shooting out to enclose her arm.

The pickpocket whirled around, her dark liquid eyes filled with more resentment than surprise.

"You have my money," Claudine told her quietly. It would do best not to startle the girl; she was a skinny little thing with a sharp face that still contained hints of surprising, sullen beauty. She wasn't a twisted thief, just a hungry one. "Give it back."

The girl made no move to do so. She continued staring at Claudine unabashedly.

Patience had never been Claudine's strong suit. The sweltering heat, combined with the girl's obstinacy and the knowledge that her family would have to starve if she failed to get the money back, was enough to make her flare up.

"Give it back!" She shouted, wincing as her foreign accent slipped through, the way it always did when she got mad.

The gamin's lip curled up to form an ugly sneer. The traces of prettiness Claudine had seen in her face just a few moments before vanished into thin air. Grudgingly, she reached into one of the numerous recesses in her tattered dress and scooped out the embarrassingly meager amount of money. "Here. Take your stupid coins."

Claudine counted the coins into her palm. "These stupid coins are all I have," she snapped, a defensive edge to her voice. 

"I'm sorry," the girl said sourly, glaring down at her arm, which Claudine was still gripping.

"You're not, but that's fine," Claudine replied matter-of-factly, releasing her hold on the girl's bony limb. "If money's what you want, I can give you some."

The girl stood up straighter. "I may be a street rat, mademoiselle, but I still have my dignity." She made 'mademoiselle' sound like an insult.

"And stealing is, obviously, a brilliant way to preserve your dignity," Claudine snarled, sarcasm dripping into her voice. She wasn't often sarcastic, but anger made her do things she didn't normally do.

The gamin opened her mouth, presumably to snap out a rude retort, but what came out of her mouth next was totally unexpected.

"Why didn't you threaten me with the cops?"

Her eyes, narrowed into little slits, were suspicious and shockingly perceptive.

Claudine was many things, but dishonest wasn't one of them. She couldn't - and wouldn't - lie in front of the girl. Bereft of a proper, truthful explanation that wouldn't put her in danger, all she could do was stutter.

"I think I know why," the girl continued, smirking with a devious triumph. "It's because they're after you as well."

Claudine swallowed, debating whether or not to make a run for it. No, that would draw unwanted attention to herself - it was better to stay and listen to what the girl had to say. 

"You're a gypsy, aren't you?"

No, was the first word she was capable of thinking. No. Her identity was supposed to be a secret.

"I knew it!" The girl exclaimed, clapping her hands in what could easily be mistaken as childish delight. Had she nodded? She must have. Sometimes she hated how utterly impossible it was for her to lie.

"You aren't supposed to."

"Well," the girl grinned, folding her arms across her scrawny chest, "now that I know something about you, I guess you deserve to know something about me too."

All of a sudden, the scraps of prettiness returned to her face. It was unusual to the point where it became startling. She extended a grimy hand to Claudine.

"My name is Éponine Thénardier. Will you tell me your name, or am I not supposed to know?"

Claudine thought about it. What could Éponine do with her name, anyway?

The dry summer breeze whipped at her hair. Éponine's hand hovered in midair, her dark eyes swirling with amusement and a just a little hope. It would be nice to have what she never had back at the Court - a friend.

She slid her hand into Éponine's and gave it a firm shake. "Claudine Beaufort."

___

[ AUTHOR'S NOTE ]

Just to clear things up: 

1. The Court of Miracles was an actual place in 19th century France. It was located under the city of Paris in the old catacombs (a secret entrance to a graveyard).

2. I got the bracelet idea from The Hunchback of Notre Dame, so I'm not sure if that was an actual thing back then, but I like the idea of the Court being a complete secret to outsiders. 

3. The gypsies are the unwanted people of Paris, mostly unemployed migrants, who are commonly believed to be thieves and criminals. The gendarmes (French police) want to wipe them off the city, but they can't find them because they never thought to search in a graveyard. The exact location of the gypsies' residence, the Court of Miracles, is hence very sought after by the police. This is why the gypsies are so paranoid about keeping the Court of Miracles a secret.

Thank you for reading!

Cheers,
Nat 🍃