(no subject)

[street_sparrow]

Gavroche is drawing again, hunched over his pad at a table. It's still in progress, but shows a group scene - young men, mostly, but Eponine is there among them and so is a certain little boy.

Some of the faces are fuzzy, after ten years, but he's doing his best and others are drawn in the sharpest detail.

[ooc: recycled post is recycled. Open 'til it scrolls]

Comments

[equal_of_any_man]

"You are an artist of great talent, my friend." Olivier sits down beside him, admiring the art.

[street_sparrow]

"I'm good with faces", he says, offering a smile for his friend. "Buildings and such, not always, but faces I can do."

[equal_of_any_man]

"These are faces from your past?" He asks softly.

[street_sparrow]

"Mostly. Some of them are here." He taps his pencil on Enjolras, Grantaire, Bossuet and Courfeyrac in turn - and then Eponine and his younger face. "The others aren't."

[equal_of_any_man]

"You miss them dearly, those not here?" Oliver asks, worried for the happiness of his friends always.

[street_sparrow]

"I do", he says quietly. "Courfeyrac, here, he was the dearest to me, so at least I have him again. But they were all friends."

[equal_of_any_man]

"You are a good man, Gavroche. It is right that you should have such friends. I'm glad this Courfeyrac is returned to you."

[street_sparrow]

"They were good men, too. They wanted to change the world." His eyes linger on the drawing. "And he took a half-starved little pickpocket and bought him food."

[equal_of_any_man]

"Men of honour and ideals." Olivier admires that. "And that is you, as you were?"

[street_sparrow]

"That's me, at about ten or so, with my first family. My sister, she wasn't there for the revolution but she was there anyway. And the friends of the downtrodden."

[equal_of_any_man]

"Your family." Olivier smiles, seeing and feeling the pride of that in Gavroche's art. "It is beautiful."

[street_sparrow]

Pride and love, in every line.

"It's not perfect. Some of their faces... it's been such a long time."

[equal_of_any_man]

"But you wish to hold on to them, close to your heart. I understand. I wish I could do the same for my mother. I feel as if I lose a little of her each day and then from the blue I will see her in my mind's eye, clear as the day. Always smiling."

[starrydome]

Elrond comes over, curious.

"Are they friends of yours?"
There is love in the lines of the faces.

[street_sparrow]

Gavroche looks up and smiles a greeting.

"Master Elrond - yes, they are. Not all of them are here, but... still."

[starrydome]

"It is very good," Elrond observes. "You have keen eyes and a sure hand."

[street_sparrow]

"I've always seen more than other people do. Sometimes when I could get chalk or a pencil end, I used to draw things in Paris."

[starrydome]

"It is a good way for Men to remember," Elrond remarks. "And here you can get what you need to keep the skill alive. That is well."

[street_sparrow]

Gavroche nods. "Paper and real pencils... and even some of the people I'd want to draw."

[starrydome]

"You have friends here? From your past?"
He sounds delighted on Gavroche's behalf.

[street_sparrow]

"I do." He smiles. "These two here, Enjolras and Grantaire, and my sister, and now Bossuet and Courfeyrac too." He taps each pencilled face as he says the name.

[starrydome]

"And are you from the same time?" Elrond asks. He knows how difficult it can be when someone might know more or less than you do yourself.

[street_sparrow]

"Most of us are. Eponine came in first from a few hours before that... and Bossuet, two years."

[starrydome]

"It must be strange for him. When the rest of you are from roughly the same time."

[street_sparrow]

"I'm sure it is. And there were... things he had to be told. Not easy things."