I have thought about the headcanon of Cosette and Enjolras being halfsiblings a lot lately. And the fact that Tholomyès comes from Toulouse (that is in the south of France) makes me think about it even harder.
need a hat that says I WONT SPEAK UNLESS SPOKEN TO AND ITS NOT BECAUSE IM DISINTERESTED AND DONT LIKE YOU I JUST DONT UNDERSTAND SOCIAL INTERACTION AS WELL AS MOST PEOPLE AND ASSUME BY DEFAULT MY PRESENCE IS UNWELCOME AS A PRECAUTIONARY MEASURE SO I KEEP TO MYSELF BUT I DONT MIND IF YOU INITIATE so i can wear it to work
AU where everything is alright, Jean Valjean brings Cosette to Montreuil-sur-Mer, Fantine gets better, and her and Jean Valjean are raising Cosette together. Cosette is the happiest child in the world. She is so attached to Jean Valjean that she calls him father no matter how he tries to persuade her not to do this. And yet Cosette always confuses everyone who is not familiar with their situation by saying something like, "My parents are so nice, and they care a lot about me and each other. What? No, they are not in love at all! What do you mean they should be in love? Wow, you're weird."
hear me out here; them being siblings on their dad's side and being tholomyes' kids. tholomyes, being the pos he was, was actually married with a child when he pursued fantine and left her when cosette was born to return to his wealthy wife and son. enjolras actually isn't his legal surname; it's tholomyes, but when he moved to Paris for his studies he starts going by his mother's maiden name to disassociate himself from his father.
enj starts going to the Luxembourg gardens to read because it helps him focus and he sees Cosette, fresh out of the nunnery, who looks scarily like him. cosette, when Valjean turns away for a moment, asks him a question about the book he is reading. He answers kindly and plainly, and Valjean and Cosette walk away. They keep happening across one another, and Enjolras is charmed by Cosette's curiosity. They talk when they see each other, share books, and discuss the world. Cosette is far more politically conscious than she is given credit for.
there is great angst potential in them never finding out they were siblings, yet valjean watching a boy with the same face as his daughter die on the barricade. even greater angst in cosette learning of her biological parents after Valjean's death, looking into Tholomyes, and learning that he had a son in Paris. She then connects the name to the boy Marius spoke about, the one who would talk to her in the gardens, and discovers only after his death that Enjolras was her brother.
yesss very much so!! YES make it angstier. I love this. Yes they quite enjoyed talking to each other and each held the other in high esteem.
And if anyone writes a fic about this, know there must be a scene where someone on the street “mistakes” the two for siblings, and as they are walking away, one or both of these children who were incredibly lonely for most of their formative years think:
“I do admit that I have often wished for a brother/sister, and if I should have had one, I should have liked him/her to be like Enjolras/Cosette.”
Or if you’re writing in normal words, then just simplify it >:)
“I always wanted a brother.”
“Really? I always wanted a sister.”
…You know, I wish that I’d had a brother, and I wish that it was Enjolras… / I wish that I’d had a sister, and I wish that it was Cosette…
“Well, at least we can commiserate.”
…though I’d not wish my childhood on anyone... / …though I’d not wish my parents on anyone.
“There’s some comfort in kinship, truly.”
…I bet Valjean would have liked him, though. They have the same good heart.
-feuilly comes to paris without a sous in his pocket and only the clothes on his back. he's worked little jobs here and there for his whole life and he's doing the same. at twenty-one, he's matured too much for his young age. when he secures an apprenticeship under a fanmaker, he's overwhelmed to find himself with a small room to stay in and a place to put his hat
-two years into his apprenticeship, he's given a real job under the fanmaker he's been spending most of his days with and it's the closest thing he has with a family, honestly. but now he can pay them for rent and has a real job and the first day he can afford something real, he buys himself this shiny, shiny green cravat and it looks incredibly tacky with his worker's clothing, all worn and yellowed with age and sweat and stain, but he loves it and he wears it all the time
-one day in the winter, he's walking home from a delivery and it's too fucking cold and he can't feel his fingers or his toes and his skin burns from how frozen he is because feuilly can't afford a coat, and he has to stop inside a cafe to ensure that he makes it home alive and there's this couple of rich-looking students whispering about a meeting as they head into a back room and feuilly is curious by nature, so he follows
-turns out, it's a super politically charged group with lots of talking over each other and speeches and arguing and he sits back and listens and he slips back out after an hour. at home, he thinks about it in bed. feuilly's been in many different places, he's seen so many people in pain. he's been in so much pain- starvation, loneliness, oppression, he's seen it all and he's felt it all
-he spends his free time reading books from the fanmaker's collection: his atlas, his novels, and more. mixed with both his opinions and his experiences, feuilly writes his ideas on government and politics and society on the back scrap of an old list of paints he'd been sent out to buy and he ties his green cravat as nicely as he can and he returns to the cafe
-there's no one there
-and he goes again
-and there's no one there
-and feuilly gives up for a few more days before getting up on a sunday and going once more- cravat tied and list in his hands- and there are students there. the same ones as before, maybe. maybe they aren't, he can't remember. but he's there and for a moment his hands are shaking and he's afraid that these rich students are going to make fun of him, but something possesses him to stand and-
-enjolras is twenty years old. he's studying law and dawns his hat and coat the same as he does every sunday. he's got a particularly long spiel planned about workers' rights and he completely ignores the women passing by and whispering about him because he always does
-enjolras has never been interested in a woman and he does not intend to be- the only thing he truly loves is his country
-he greets combeferre at the door and apologizes for running a bit late, but he sets his things down and momentarily notices a new face in the corner. enjolras thought he mightve seen him at the last meeting, but doesn't recognize him from school, or the area, or anything. the only noticeable thing about him is the incredibly tacky green cravat tied around his neck, shining in the candlelight.
-enjolras asks courfeyrac to greet him and starts the meeting
-he begins to talk about the situation of lower class working peoples and the life of factory workers and low-paid artisans and he's cut off. the man from the corner stands abruptly
-"have you ever worked?"
-for a moment, enjolras is like (oh my fucking god we have another grantaire) but answers truthfully that no, he's never worked. he's never had to
-the young man doesn't berate him, however, but he corrects him in explaining in more detail what people go through and the limbs they lose and the sores on their fingers and the soot that stains their skin all for what? hardly anything. he's surprisingly knowledgeable about lower classes, more than anyone else. courfeyrac returns to enjolras's side and murmurs into his ear that he's actually working class and actually their first member who isn't a student himself
-enj gets stars in his eyes because this is the actually the opening they needed- they need more of this demographic
-after the meeting, he stops the young man with the cravat and asks him for his name. the man is hesitant to shake his hand but does so anyway and introduces himself as feuilly. enjolras takes the time to ask him about himself and his relations to the working community and that's how feuilly gets his first task of asking around for new members
-once again, he's hesitant, but he says okay. enjolras gets starry-eyed again and shakes his hands and thanks him very much and leaves
-feuilly sneaks back into his apartment and loosens his tie and lays in bed, drumming his fingers and unable to sleep. his hand still feels warm from enjolras's firm handshake. he's probably the luckiest guy alive- enjolras is. he's rich, handsome, smart. he's sure to marry well and be successful and have sons who will be the same as he was. feuilly can't really think straight, so he blows out the candle in his room and forces his body to fall asleep
-for the first time in his life, he dreams of having friends and having people his age look at him like a person, and not just a face in the crowd
-come the next week, he's got another couple workers in tow and enjolras greets them just as enthusiastically as he did feuilly. his heart sinks in his chest, thinking that enjolras might not want to be his friend at all. feuilly sits next to the workers and listens through the meeting and tries not to feel melancholy about still being alone
-after the meeting, a hand catches his arm. enjolras is asking if he could stay, maybe, and talk with him about politics. it seems like a loaded statement, but feuilly agrees
-they discuss governments in other countries and political theories and he learns that enjolras is very politically charged for a young man with his status- more than any other possible person. when he talks, his brow furrows and his eyes refuse to stray from the person he speaks with and he talks with his hands. oh he talks with his hands. feuilly can't possibly look away. listening to enjolras talk is like getting drunk off absinthe.
-it's just as addicting to talk back. feuilly wants to debate with him and correct him when he's wrong and say everything he thinks. sometimes, enjolras agrees. sometimes, he catches enjolras by surprise by what he knows. he taught himself to read and write and he isn't stupid. feuilly's intelligent, even if he hasn't been fortunate enough to afford a real education for himself
-simple post-meeting conversations turn to other nightly conversations, ones at enjolras's student lodgings and at cafes with combeferre and courfeyrac and feuilly finds himself excited to see him. as he's painting throughout the day, he thinks about what he wants to talk about with enjolras the next time he sees him
-one day, the madame of the house asks him which grisette has him with such a smile on his face and feuilly laughs it off
-but that cannot defy the fact that he's thinking about that serious look on enjolras's face and the smile that curls the corners of his mouths when feuilly says something smart and he's reaching a hand into his sleep pants and screwing his eyes shut and
-ah. that's it.
-enjolras doesn't notice when feuilly gets a bit more reserved around him. he still pulls him aside and asks him for his input and gives him looks, prompting him to speak when somebody says something he knows feuilly could refute. feuilly is a bit more quiet, however, and it's only after a week that enjolras thinks something might be off
-finding out where he works, enjolras walks downtown to the fanmaker's shop and steps inside. he sees feuilly with his cap and his sleeves pushed up as he details a flower on a fan, hand steady and strokes delicate. he bites his lip when he's focused, enjolras notices
-"feuilly"
-feuilly startles, thankfully not messing up his fan. he glances over at him with wide eyes and then back at his work and then back at enjolras.
-"enj...olras."
-enjolras steps up to the counter and asks him if he's feeling ill or if he's working too hard. he says that he's been quiet and off and wants to know if something is wrong
-feuilly pauses and shakes his head. he apologizes for being that way and invites enjolras to talk like they normally should. he says his lodgings are here and if enjolras wanted he could come over. his face is pink, when he says it and enjolras really does worry that he might be ill
-nonetheless, enjolras says he'll come over
-feuilly is fucking sweating bullets. he's worried that he'll say something awful and enjolras will find him to be a degenerate and throw him out of their socialist club
-he's still unsure of how to go about this situation and puts on his green cravat for when enjolras is over and neatens up his apartment as much as he can and by the time enjolras is there, he's apologizing for it not being much and probably being worse than enjolras expected
-enjolras is nice about it, though, and has his notes and books as per usual and doesn't seem to think any differently of him. they talk like usual and after a while, enjolras asks him about his work. he knows feuilly has no family and worked under this man for a while, but he's never seen him at work. he talks a bit about his painting and his commissions with fans and offers to show enjolras what painting a fan is like, but he doesn't have any good fans or paper and he doesn't want to ruin enjolras's notes. enj sticks out his arm, though, and says he could always paint on him
-once again- sweating bullets
-enjolras is glad when feuilly wants to show him his talents. with small pots of paints and a delicate brush, he murmurs to himself about styles and paints an example of popular designs with flowers and more
-feuilly's fingers are rough and warm against his arm and enjolras watches the tip of his nose as he paints, the flutter of his lashes and the splatter of freckles across his face. he finds himself very fortunate to have a friend like feuilly: one who's intelligent, credible where he stands on his opinions, and so very talented.
-hm
-after a moment, feuilly finishes an orchid and he sets down his brush, admiring the pale flower on enjolras's forearm. he doesn't mean to, but his hand lags behind on enj's arm, thumb gently stroking against the skin
-enjolras is watching him very carefully, he notices and thinks that he should probably let go and apologize at this point, but enjolras's feet are pointed towards him and his finger curls inward to brush against feuilly's other hand and his eyes flicker down to the area above his chin
-it's the same at that meeting, when something possessed feuilly to stand up and address an unfamiliar crowd. he leans forward in his seat and presses a very, very careful kiss to enjolras's lips. when he gets nothing in return, he momentarily considers hurling himself into the seine, but then enjolras pushes back forward and kisses him back and it's clunky and their teeth clink together for a moment before they figure each other out
-enjolras doesn't like women or men, he likes feuilly and he loves his country. he spends the night in his apartment- and they don't do much else but kiss. enjolras listens to feuilly talks about poland and germany and presses gentle kisses to his temples and the side of his mouth and his jaw because feuilly is intelligent, overwhelmingly so, and enjolras finds it very attractive
“The captain of the piece was a handsome sergeant of artillery, very young, blond, with a very gentle face, and the intelligent air peculiar to that predestined and redoubtable weapon which, by dint of perfecting itself in horror, must end in killing war.”
“Fancy, he is a charming young man; he is intrepid; it is evident that he is thoughtful”
WHO DOES THIS SOUND LIKE? HM??? does nobody else find it a little bit suspect that combeferre, who had nothing against fighting if it was for a greater good (“It is not that Combeferre was not capable of fighting, he did not refuse a hand-to-hand combat with the obstacle, and to attack it by main force and explosively”) suddenly had objections about shooting a man that closely resembled enjolras?? i know that “he could be your brother” most likely meant “hey, he’s a person”, and not “he looks like you. he could be YOUR brother”, but WHAT IF IT DID? what if, with enjolras saying “he is”, he’s enforcing the former thought, and telling combeferre not to think about the latter. how much do you think it hurt combeferre seeing the sergeant die? do you think he wondered if that’s what enjolras would look like in the event of the barricades falling?
we have to thank our brave soldiers in fandom who write gen fics. we have to thank our brave soldiers in fandom who write character studies and stories with no focus on romance or sex. we have to get on our knees and thank the brave soldiers in fandom who write about minor characters and friendship and family with no focus on romance or sex. i know it’s hard to care about characters in a world that seems to only revolve around ships but i see you. and i love you
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