milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Javert had been planning to avoid the bar for a while, because of reasons. But when the door started showing up every time he tried to leave a room, he eventually just rolled his eyes and gave in.

If he happens to spend the entire day outside, well, he just prefers being outside. He exercises the young horse of Teja's people, he builds until he can longer lift another brick. When all work is done, he can be found sitting on the ground, his back against a large boulder (and if it happens to conceal him from view of the bar, that is a coincidence perhaps), idly sketching the lake.

And also possibly trying not fall asleep.

[OOC: Catchable anywhere! Open for a few days. <3

ETA: Time to crash for the night, though. Catch ya tomorrow.]

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"Do they help to make you feel safer, or happier, in your life?" Father Harman asks.

He blinks at him.

'Safer? No. I am not an idiot.'

He is perfectly aware that the world is not a safe place. One can hardly be a policeman so long without knowing that.

'But they make it clear how everyone should operate. They create society. Without guidance from God, and laws and rules, it would take no time at all before people reverted to their baser natures.'

He looks down at the ground. And allows;

'Perhaps not every man.'

"You think only rules keep people from becoming feral?" Father Harman asks.

Pause.

"And with that exception, you mean Jean Valjean?"

'I think they certainly help.'

He picks a spare bit of lint from his trousers.

'Valjean is certainly an example of it.'

"Valjean's a very good man," Father Harman says, "but what makes him so different in your eyes?"

He jerks into a silent, dry laugh, not looking at the priest.

'If you knew him, you would not ask such a question.'

What is not different about him?

'Everything.'

"I know him a little bit, but enough to know that he's an exceptionally good man, and almost painfully modest," Father Harman says.

'Yes. And he should never have been either of those things, yet he is.'

He cannot remember what he has told Harman of their past, but it hardly matters.

'If he can be that way, so can others. Not many, I am sure. But some.'

"People can change," Father Harman says. "They can get better and, with the help of God, find happiness."

'Happiness?'

He looks confused, as he always does when someone mentions this word.

'Happiness is not the point. And if you were to ask Valjean if he has found it, I d-'

He stops himself.

'Well. That is his affair. But I stand by my words.'

"I think he might have known moments of it," Father Harman says.

'He has told you this?'

It is not a question that requires an answer. Javert lapses into silent thought for a moment, then turns his gaze back to the lake.

He does not say 'good' or 'I am glad' or anything of the like. But his thoughts are ever written across his countenance, and the words are there all the same.

"He has hinted at that," Harman says. "His daughter made him happy, and still does. Did you see him with her when she arrived?"

'Yes, I did.'

He nearly points out that Valjean does not really have a daughter.

'I have spoken to her briefly. I have not spoken to him about her.'

"His happiness lives there," Father Harman says.

And dies, with her absence after her marriage. But it might not, with Javert having survived to provide something Valjean may still stand up against.

He twitches his shoulder, a tiny shrug, and stands straight.

'His daughter is none of my business. He accused me of killing her mother, you understand. I will not speak to her, or of her. He would not like it.'

"But he still is your business?" Father Harman asks.

'...no.'

No, he supposes not.

But it still feels as though he is.

'No, he is nothing to me. He is still helping with the church, but that is all.'

"The only one you really allow to help," Father Harman points out.

'Well.'

He cannot deny that is true. To an extent.

'I take the advice of others. Or will, when I need to.'

He looks down at the ground again.

'I owe him my life twice over, despite the fact I did not want it. It is hard to say no to someone who has done that.'

"It's very hard to say no to Valjean in general, I find," Father Harman says.

'Yes. Well. He is so good, how could anyone?'

He mutters this almost bitterly, but with a note of admiration too.

Not that he admires people being wholly soft-hearted; if Valjean were only that, he would look down on him roundly. But he knows for a fact Valjean's softness is a choice, and the man is also iron when he needs to be. It is hard not to respect that, though he will not admit it out loud.

"If he ever needs help in return," Father Harman muses, "I hope you'll be there to give it to him."

He turns his head to look at him, sharply. For a few beats, he just stares. Then he looks away again.

'I do not know if he would take help from me,' he says, in a low murmur.

'And I am still not in Paris. Besides, he is free. There is no reason he can now not be happy.'

He remembers there is probably something he should tell Harman, something that happened after their last conversation. But that would bring up what their last conversation was about, and he is not sure he wants to face that.

"There might be," Harman says. "While you're here, keep an eye on him."

He looks at Javert with something of a question in his eyes, as the man seems to have bitten off something he wanted to say.