(no subject)

[never_shall_yield]

 
After the events of the other evening, Javert took himself off to his room and slept for the best part of two days. The only thing he asked before heading upstairs was that he be informed if Valjean died.

There has been no message, and on coming down today Bar tells him that the man lives yet. So he nods, and eats breakfast and goes outside. He exercises the stallion. Then he goes out to the woods and spends the entire day woodworking pews for the church, in his shirtsleeves despite the chill, looking the closest to relaxed he has in years.

When it gets dark he's in the bar, idly sketching over glass with stick of wax, a book and a cup of coffee at his elbow. He looks more untidy than usual; his collar is not fastened, and there is mud on his trousers. But for once there is no sign of anger, animosity or distress. For the first time in a long time, he is genuinely unconcerned about interruptions.


[OOC: Catch him anywhere. Open for the rest of the week!]

Comments

[witchfinder_general]

While he is working on the pews, Father Harman wanders by.

"Good afternoon, Javert," he says.

[never_shall_yield]

'Good afternoon, Father.'

And it is. Which is strange.

'Are you well?'

[witchfinder_general]

"I am," Father Harman says. "It's good to see you at work. You seem well, too."

Well.

"How is Valjean?"

[never_shall_yield]

'I am well enough.'

Muscles aching pleasantly, and the enjoyable sensation of being well rested for the first time in months.

'He is not dead.'

[witchfinder_general]

"So I heard."

[merryeccentricities]

And for once there's no wariness in Joly's attitude as he walks up to greet Javert. "Hello, Monsieur."

[never_shall_yield]

Not even a revolutionary is going to spoil his calm this evening.

Whether this lasts or not...well.

'Good evening.'

[merryeccentricities]

"I thought you'd like to know-- he's doing well. We have every reason to expect a recovery to full health." M.Fauchelevent may never be entirely as strong as he was--then again, he might. "He's already made remarkable progress."

[never_shall_yield]

He nods, his face belying no emotion. But inside, he is satisfied.

'Good. His daughter will be relieved, no doubt.'

A slight pause.

'Are you certain of the chances of recovery?'

We have every reason is ambiguous, and Javert does not like ambiguous.

[merryeccentricities]

Joly nods, really smiling now. "He's doing very well. He's with his family here; you might see him about the grounds soon, if you're going to be staying for a while too." It's a small place, after all.

[never_promised]

Javert isn't the only one exercising his horse today; someone on a tall dark bay comes riding up through the woods, reacquainting himself with the paths.

When he sees the little chapel, Harry pauses. No, stops. He stops, dismounts, walks in, taking off his gloves as he goes and not expecting company.

[never_shall_yield]

Javert is out in the storage area around the back, so he does not notice any new arrival. Until he comes out and sees the horse. He frowns at it, but only as a matter of form. He is calm, today.

Still, the horse must have an owner. He takes a turn around the clearing to check, then walks into the church, his planer in one hand and a spirit level in the other.

[never_promised]

It's quite possible that Javert has seen Harry Percy with that horse: Percy's had the care of him for the last month or so, and he's stabled next to Percy's chestnut mare. But look, no Hotspur in the church! Someone who dresses like he's from the same era, though: a tall young man, standing near the altar with his head bowed slightly, lost in his thoughts or just studying the woodwork.

As soon as he hears Javert's steps, he starts back, looking for a moment as if he's been caught out. "--I hope I do not interrupt thy work, good sir."

[never_shall_yield]

'No.'

It is not said impolitely, but the clothes do set off quiet alarm bells in his head. The last thing he wants is another like Percy around the place.

'Are you praying? I will not interrupt you if so.'

[never_promised]

"Ah--heh--" He looks faintly guilty, though who knows whether that means he was or was not praying. "Thou dost not interrupt me." At least, probably no more than he's interrupting the other man.

"I was never in this chapel before. I did not know it yet unfinished within; is it all thy work?"

[lark_in_flight]

Cosette has come down from her father's room upstairs, to fetch nourishing broth for her father and food for the rest of them. A note, too; she's been focused on her own family and their own troubles, but there were kind souls who helped them, and her father has friends here. She ought to leave a note with Bar assuring them that he's getting well. Should he have visitors? He would likely say no, but he never wants anything soft or easy for himself; perhaps she ought to encourage his friends to come all the same.

Marius ought by strict propriety to be along with her but uh let's say he's up sitting with Valjean, handwave handwave.

When she sees Javert sitting and sketching, she detours over towards his table.

[never_shall_yield]

He glances up when a shape appears in his peripheral vision. There is no change in his outward demeanour, though something inside him twists tight.

Perhaps he ought not to have told the truth about so much. But he cannot feel sorry for it; Valjean could not be allowed to continue as he was. Knowing he would do the same again helps; he sets the glass and wax down, gets to his feet easily, and gives a small bow as she comes near,

'Madame.'

[lark_in_flight]

"Monsieur."

Her little bob in return is not quite so small.

"I won't keep you -- I can see you're busy -- but I wanted to thank you again for the help you gave my family. We will never forget it."

Polite words, but she means them, with deep and transparent sincerity.

[never_shall_yield]

And just as sincerely, Javert waves this away.

'I will take no thanks, madame.'

She would probably still offer them if she knew the whole story, being Valjean's daughter, but she should at least learn it before speaking.

'He is well, then?'

[lark_in_flight]

He's like her father in this, then; he won't hear thanks or praise for his good deeds. Very well, let him be like that, she won't say more about it, but it won't change the way she feels.

"He's still weak, monsieur, but he's very much better. He's in his own room now, upstairs. You would be welcome to visit. M. Joly has worked wonders! Such a very good doctor. He says Father only needs now to rest and regain his strength."

[pro_patria_mortuus]

[OOC: In the proud tradition of "hey Write, which character should I send?" "BOTH!" *laughing*]

Enjolras, in lieu of overwhelming Marius with too many dead friends at once when he's busy with family matters -- though he is keeping an eye out for him, for many reasons -- is taking a walk outside. It's a nice day, if chilly. He'll take Rachat for a ride if the gelding is free and not tired, he thinks; why not?

This means that he might well pass by Javert, whether on his way to or from the stable or when he's working in the woods.

[never_shall_yield]

He does, naturally. Javert is leading Acajou back in, looking chilled and windswept, but far more amenable than usual.

Though by the way his expression changes when he catches sight of Enjolras, that is likely to change. He has not yet spoken to Joly at this point in the day, and so says without preamble,

'Did you receive my message?'

[pro_patria_mortuus]

Oh, goodie.

(Though, hey, maybe Javert will feel the need to inform him all about his spying work again!)

"I did."

Of course, he doesn't say. Let the spy think there's any possibility of any of them not informing each other of important business, if he likes.

[never_shall_yield]

'Did you even consider the danger you would put Fauchelevent in?'

It is said in an almost conversational tone as he ties the stallion next to his stall.

[pro_patria_mortuus]

To Valjean himself, Enjolras will apologize sincerely for whatever mistake let a recognizable description of him reach Javert's ears despite all Enjolras's care; he will offer whatever details might help him to know where word might have been carried, obscuring only what would endanger others. But to the spy -- no.

"What precise danger is he in, that he wasn't before?"

It's not a rhetorical question. Javert is strangely forthcoming at times, especially when annoyed; maybe this will be one.