hard as it is in the coming days. ( day two | gold / pearls )
JEAN VALJEAN STARED at little Cosette as she played with her dolls. Well, he was actually staring at one doll that was sitting with Cosette in particular. A fair doll donned in a pretty blue dress, but the ex-convict was staring at one part of the doll in particular—her hair.
Beautiful and blonde hair.
Fantine wandered around aimlessly. Her eyes were clouded with springing tears from recent events and dust when she encountered trampling horses pulling carriages earlier. She was hungry. She was thirsty. She was tired. She wanted to just stop. But as she looked at her necklace, she was overcomed with a newfound sense of determination.
For Cosette. This is for Cosette.
Cosette picked up the blonde doll and started brushing its hair. Valjean’s chest tightened at the sight. Its shade looked so frighteningly familiar to the one who he had once met and cared for. She said she had sold her hair, her teeth, and herself all for her daughter. He was curious as to what the buyers might do with her hair, but thought no further of it. At least until now.
“Doesn’t she look beautiful, Father?” Cosette mused as Valjean moved to sit beside her on the floor.
Valjean nodded. “Yes, she really is beautiful, Cosette.” His hands moved to the doll but hesitated. “May I?”
Cosette’s lips split into a smile. “Yes, of course, Father!” She handed him the doll and the hairbrush. “She needs to have her hair brushed for our get together.”
“Get together?” He smiled.
She had never felt more scared in her entire life. Fantine clutched the scarf she had made for herself closer to her, protecting her from the chilly air and unwanted gazes. The world around her had seemed darker now and she wanted to see the light again.
She wanted to see her again. Badly. But she knew she couldn’t, lest it might result in her daughter—who was being most likely pampered by the innkeepers—being ashamed of her, her mother who resolved to selling her everyday things in the market.
She looked ahead of her. She saw different women dressed in what seem to be their most elegant costumes yet. Their faces were smeared by cheap make-up in an attempt to draw more attention. Men in cleaner outfits were wandering around chatting amongst themselves while eyeing the different colorful women. While there were other people too, who were doing another kind of business, Fantine didn’t know, but she hoped that it’s something that she could do. She looked even more and saw a group of men groping a woman.
Her heart pounded inside her and she tried make herself warmer with her scarf. Her chest was suddenly heaving and she could feel beads of sweat running down her face. She had finally arrived at the ports.
His hands brushed against her hair, and his fingers were tingling. He wondered if this might’ve been her hair that’s on this doll. This doll which is now owned by her own daughter of flesh and blood.
She made her way down the stairs. The staircases didn’t have that much wide space so she has to share the staircase with other people. She narrowly avoided some stares and gazes.
Some man tried to take a hold of her arm, but the moment Fantine felt a brush along her arm, she immediately scampered down quickly. Her breathing was uneven. She couldn’t even think straight. But all she knew is that she’ll get as much money as possible and she’ll leave and find another place to sell.
She had managed to sell her necklace for five francs, one of the very few things she has to let her remember dear Cosette. It felt burdening to part with it, but she knew she had to. She couldn’t bare to think of her daughter’s state in the future if she lets sentementalism get in the way of what’s best for her and her child.
She coughed into her sleeves. Blood was found and she touched her fingertips to her lips and found the same thing. She shook it off and focused on her problem.
Five francs still wasn’t enough.
Cosette started teaching Valjean how to do the doll’s hair. Valjean was quite surprised that she was good at this.
“Cosette, this is beautiful!” Valjean marveled as he managed to successfully braid the doll’s hair. Cosette giggled in thanks. “How have you come to know of this art, child?”
The light in her face suddenly dimmed down and Valjean frowned. “The Madame—” Valjean knew it, “—she taught me how to do it, so I could do it to the girls.”
She didn’t say anything after that. Valjean wondered, Oh, if you only had seen your daughter like I had.
The blonde woman stayed in the port longer than she had promiser herself. It was not her fault, however. She is still need of more francs or Cosette might freeze in the deadly winter. She wondered if it was possible to bring Cosette to her hometown. They could be together finally, just like how she dreamed. Marguerite, a spinster who had helped her a great deal after the unemployment, could take care of her. And surely the Thénardiers could be relieved of one less duty—
No. She quickly shook the idea out of her head. She’s still in debt to them and is still in debt to her landlady.
A feeling of heavy emptiness swallowed her chest as she took her hair out underneath her scarf. She mindlessly brushed her fingers along with her blonde strands of hair.
This is all Father Madeleine’s fault. Yes, that’s right. This is his doing, not hers. She suddenly felt a tug from the back of her hair and she yelped.
“What splendid hair you have there, Madame!”
Fantine looked warily at the old woman staring at her crown jewels and she tried to calm her breathing. “I’m sorry but I’m not a madame for I’m not married—”
But she was interrupted with the old woman saying, “Your hair is indeed worth a sum, my dear.”
Fantine didn’t know what to say. “What…?”
The old woman crooned as she drew nearer, “You heard me.” She suddenly took strands of her hair with a hungry look. “I’ll take the lot.”
And with a pound in her heart, she forced herself away from the old woman. “No, leave me alone!” She walked away, now eager to leave this place.
But before she could make five paces, the old woman said, “A price, then! I’ll give you all of ten francs. Just think of that.”
Fantine halted. Ten francs… that’s already more than she came for.
She turned to the old woman, feeling nothing more than the sweat running down her forehead and her neck. She knew what kind of business this is and how much the village frown upon her more. Yet, that was the least thing she worries of as of now.
Valjean cleared his throat in attempt to break the silence between him and his child. “So, Cosette, what is this doll’s name? Surely, you must have a beautiful name to match this beautiful doll.”
“I do not know, Father,” she replied. “I hadn’t named her yet.”
“Well, let me help you then.”
“Adelie is not so much of a name for young children, Father, and this doll is still of youth as it says so in her eyes and her smile and her…”
Valjean couldn’t contain the smile spreading on his face. “Oh, if only you could see her now, Fantine.”
Cosette gasped upon hearing her name. Valjean’s heart nearly stopped beating. Different thoughts swarmed in his mind. Did she knew then? Had the innkeepers told her the true name of her mother? Will Cosette be curious of what truly happened to her mother?
But the brunette child merely cried out, “It’s perfect!”
Valjean’s mouth was agape. “What? What?” He had repeated himself in twice out of pure surprise and confusion.
“Fantine!” She beamed and picked up the blonde doll and ran her fingers along its hair. “It’s perfect! Thank you, Father!”
“Oh…” Valjean blinked twice and finally his confusion dissipated. He chuckled. “T’was not a problem, of course, Cosette.”
Fantine looked at herself in the mirror of her only good neighbor. She looked hideous to herself.
She had already lost nearly everything. Her golden crown, two of her white pearls, and one of the last remembrances she had of Cosette. But that wasn’t just it. She could still feel the ghosting hands of the leering men that wandered over her body previous nights. She wanted them to stop. But she had to. It was for Cosette, her own child.
Never had she felt so disgusted and violated and used.
She stared at her own sunken eyes and out came hot tears of rage.
This was all the mayor’s fault. This was all the woman who had her discharged in the first place’s doing as well. Those workpeople, those men at the ports, it’s all their fault she’s like this.
But above all, this was all his fault.
They were the cause of her unhappiness and the cause of Cosette’s suffering as a fatherless child. Yes, they’re all to blame.
And Fantine hated them all.
“Would you like to join me, Catherine, and Fantine in our get together, Father? It’ll be much more joyous!”
Valjean smiled at Cosette, and his gaze flickered over the Fantine doll with the blonde locks resting atop of her hard head. Even if it may be Fantine’s hair that dressed the doll or not, Valjean hoped that she’s with Cosette and is happy of her.
“Of course, Cosette, I would love to.”
The poor mother started laughing at her own misery as she put on little round caps around her so as to hide her head. She looked down at her torned gloves strewn from the blood that escaped her lips as she coughed on it. What had she done in her life to deserve this? Had she done something wrong? Was it because of her origins? Did the ones who gave life to her had done something morally dubious that she must pay the price of it?
She detested it. Just as much as she had grown to detest the townspeople and their mayor. She couldn’t bare the fact that she was suffering without even knowing why she deserves this.
But as she tells herself that one day she will finally jest at their faces when she finally leaves this life and become rich with Cosette, she strolled past by her old workplace, with a dark force seeping inside her.
One day, one day, she assured herself.
“Not a problem at all, child.”
As he smiled at Cosette, he stroked the doll’s golden hair. Even if it may be Fantine’s or not, the aging man knew that she’s happy with her child’s fate as of now. His only regret was that he couldn’t save her from her horrifying ordeal.
A beat of silence and Jean Valjean felt nothing but what Fantine would’ve felt if she had heard her say those words to her and said, “I love you too, Cosette.”
The doomed mother entered the port, donned in the ideal garments of her new job. Ready to start the night, she shook away all signs of coughing or chest pains or anything that could distract her from getting attention of possible customers.
The woman who was known by people to have lost her gold and her pearls took a deep breath and entered the den of the lovely ladies.
_This is all for you, Cosette. _
a/n: ok ok i’ll stop fantine angst for now
