Hi. This is what I wrote for the @acemisweek. I’m not a writer, so this might be a bit more analytical than literary. I do what I can. Also, English is not my first language, so any correction or advise is welcomed. It’s set in canon era and it aims to be a particular situation between Cosette and Marius after, well, everything happened. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!
Marius Pontmercy’s married life started not much time ago. Three months, to be exact. It was certainly a new exciting experience, given the fact that Marius was a complete clueless young man when he made the decision to marry. But don’t get him wrong, Cosette was wonderful, they had many servants who helped around the house and they weren’t desperate for money. However, one can imagine that a new experience can be a hundred times worse when the person experiencing it is dealing with grief.
The reader might be acquainted with Marius’ friends—dead friends— and how their demise made Marius feel as if all the possible living things that could fill a room died and only left empty furniture in it. But not only Marius was dealing grief. Cosette, the sole light in his life, had also lost her father. Marius sensed some kind of difference in her behavior. She was quiet, lurking around the house and the gardens all day. She didn’t go out and didn’t seem to want to make friends with the Parisian society. She didn’t even seem interested in trying. Still, Marius loved her more than ever. He watched her from the balcony as she cut flowers and a maid silently approached her:
“Madame, your dress was delivered today. Please excuse my imprudence, but another black dress? Some time has passed since…well, and I could bet ten francs you would look beautiful in some bright colors. Salmon, perhaps.”
“I heard it was in fashion this season, yes. Louise, please go and put the dress with the others.” Cosette replied with a kind smile.
You see, there was also another little problem in the Pontmercy household that drove Marius crazy. He knew both of them had their antiquities and rareness, but there was a little detail that couldn’t be mentioned in public: three months had passed since their marriage was consolidated, and they had't had that kind of intimacy in bed a married man and woman should have. They kissed sometimes, but the moment of heat didn't escalate from that. Sometimes Marius dared shyly to slip his hand under her dress, but Cosette was quick to put it away. Marius was already content with the opportunity to even touch her, but he always had the feeling, like pressure, that something else should be done about it . He frequently heard Courfeyrac and his other friends talking about their mistresses. They sat down with a jug of beer or a glass of wine (Courfeyrac would't let himself be seen drinking beer), and talked about this woman's tights, these other lady's skills in bed and God forgive Marius. He should't be thinking about these type of things. Anyway, a good part of Les Amis loved women —Marius even heard Bousset talking sweet and melodic about a man once.— But they weren't here anymore to listen to Marius' laments. Should't he be like his friends? Should intimacy with women make him a happier, successful man? Marius could't even think about a woman other than Cosette, but Cosette didn't seem to have carnal desires towards him.
One time, Marius and Cosette were invited to a party to celebrate a very well known count in Paris (thank M. Gillenormand for his kind efforts to make Marius escalate in the Parisian society and meet other people).
There, Marius met a young army officer. He was an attractive man, Marius could tell by the amount of ladies (married and unmarried) that seemed to always be around him, like bees around a pretty and fragrant flower in spring.
But at one particular time of the evening, Marius got to talk privately with that young army officer. Their conversation mostly rounded around Marius’ admiration for the army and The French Glory, until a lady passed by. Marius, who was always looking down, only saw the end of her green dress. However, the officer watched her from head to toe and made a quiet comment to Marius:
“Oh! The things I would do to look under her skirt…”
Marius, being a little bit disturbed by that daring comment, got his cheeks fully red.
“Then why don’t you marry her? If she isn’t by now, of course.” He said flustered.
The officer laughed. “What are you talking about? I would never marry Mlle. Subercaseaux. She’s insufferable.”
Marius was quiet. He couldn’t imagine himself laying with a woman he didn’t profoundly love. He married Cosette because his love toward her could only be consolidated by God himself. The thought of having intimate touch with a woman who wasn’t his wife repulsed him, even scared him a little. After the officer left (probably to chase some other ladies), Marius reflected profoundly on his relationship with intimacy and his relationship with Cosette as well. Standing by a window awkwardly while the rest of the guest’s danced, he realized he was different to other men like that army man. He always thought laying with your wife was part of a tradition and it was the duty of a gentleman to please his mistress. But he didn’t thought about it frequently, nor did he have the urgent need to satisfy any type of desire rooted in sex. Maybe, Cosette wasn’t abstinent because of melancholy. Maybe, Cosette was just like him. Marius thought it was imposible to love her more, but the thought made his heart race and his lips to curl in a smile:
“Cosette! Where’s my Cosette? Ah! there you are. We need to get home, we have to talk privately.”
There they were, sitting in their big bed with white sheets. Cosette’s confused face painted in the wall.
“Oh Cosette, my dear Cosette. Will you tell my at last why haven’t we had the intimacy other marriages have?” Marius asked flustered, not quite meeting his wife’s eyes as this was a new topic in their conversations.
“Monsieur Pontmercy! You know that’s not a proper question to ask a lady.” said Cosette with a teasing smile despite her general confusion.
“Enough with your jokes. Tell me, is it because you feel melancholic? Or is it because you simply don’t feel the need to? Or, please be compassionate with my poor heart if this is is the right option, because our love isn’t as strong as other’s?”
Cosette jumped at that last sentence, “Marius! Stop comparing our marriage to other’s. And it is not because I don’t love you, and I really hope you still love me like I do.” She looked down, face red.
“I wouldn’t stop loving you, even if the world was ending.”
There was a silence before Cosette dared to continue, still not meeting her husband’s eyes.
“Marius, I do not wish to have intimacy with you. Not because I don’t love you enough, or because I would rather have it with other men. Frankly, and I swear it, I do not wish to have intimacy with anyone. I simply do not wish it.” At this last sentence, she looked up and Marius immediately reached for her hand.
“Oh Cosette! You should never feel ashamed of that with me. In fact, I feel quite similar towards, you know…” and he grinned.
“Do you still love me, then? Are you satisfied with your wife the way she was before this?”
“As I said, I could never stop loving you, my love. You are the best wife I could ever wish for.”
