[Les Miserables] the song the people sang
Title: the song the people sang
Author:
bearit
Rating: PG
Notes: Once upon a time, I did this drabble meme for Dragon Age, and in an effort to get writing again, I decided to do it for Les Miserables. I posted them one-by-one on Tumblr, but now that it's all done, I decided to collect them all here. I hope you enjoy!
Meme Rules:
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.
Disclaimer: Les Miserables belongs to Victor Hugo. This is a piece of fanwork and purely created for fun. No profit is being made from this.
1. First Breath After a Coma; Explosions in the Sky
Enjolras, Les Amis
Enjolras blinked his eyes open to see eight faces peering down on him. He creased his brow.
“You’re alive.”
The words came from his mouth, and some of the others let out a small, relieved chuckle. Enjolras frowned. That dream seemed so real, so vivid. There were details he could remember that he could not from any other dream. And their deaths… even now he could see them as he took his glance between each of his friends, their eyes now so full of life and wounds absent from their bodies. And yet there was something off.
“You’re wearing the same clothes as you did…” He paused. ”It really happened then, didn’t it?”
“Yes.”
It was no dream then. Enjolras sat up and threw off his shirt, looking down on his chest. The bullet wounds he expected to see there did not exist.
A familiar, warm hand grasped his, and Enjolras followed the arm up to the eyes of Grantaire, who smiled serenely down upon him.
“Vive la Republique!”
Did that not happen?
“What is going on?” he asked. “Where are we?”
Grantaire tightened his grip. “Heaven,” he answered. “We are dead.”
2. Lullaby ~Let Me Hold You In My Arms~; Minako Honda
Enjolras/Grantaire
Enjolras lifted his head out of the paperwork on his desk as Grantaire stirred on the bed. His eyes did not open, but he moaned with his face twisted as though in pain.
A pang of guilt rippled through Enjolras. He was not blameless in Grantaire’s recent nightmares. A rumor had spread, and while it held no truth it did not have a reason for existing. Enjolras told Grantaire the full truth of the situation, and Grantaire accepted it wholeheartedly, but the rumor itself had played into his inner demons.
Enjolras crawled into the bed next to Grantaire and gently pulled him into his arms, stroking his hair gently. Grantaire immediately clung to him and murmured sleepily, “Don’t leave me.”
He held him tighter against his chest and whispered, “I won’t. I promise.”
3. Maria; from West Side Story
Marius/Cosette
Marius waltzed away from Rue Plumet with a giddy smile, and he knew that as soon as he walked into the apartment Courfeyrac would tease him endlessly. He could even hear him now: “You look like an idiot.”
Yet, he could not bring himself to care.
He finally met her.
He talked to her.
And she talked back.
His Ursu—no.
Cosette.
Marius took a couple of skips across the street, and he spun around a lamppost with a happy laugh.
Cosette.
And there was not a thing in the world that could bring him down from this high.
4. Nearer My God to Thee; from Titanic
Cosette, Valjean
Cosette sat at the base of the gravestone, gently touching the engraved letters upon it while her other arm cradled her sleeping son.
“Hello, Father,” she murmured. “I brought my son to meet you today. We named him Jean, after you. Marius insisted upon it, and it was too perfect to say no. Isn’t he beautiful, Father? He was fussy before I left the house, which is why I’m late, but I haven’t taken him out too much the past month or two. Today is the first day of sunshine we’ve had in a long time.
“I apologize that he is sleeping. He has the most precious, curious eyes. And the way he coos! He is a delightful child, and already so bright!”
The child stirred, and Cosette drew her attention away from the headstone to tend to him briefly.
“Jean, darling, wake up. I’ve brought you to meet your grandfather.”
5. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas; Judy Garland, from Meet Me in St. Louis
Les Amis
During the Christmastime of many generations since the 1830s, where the old Café Musain stood, people reported hearing strange, ghostly murmurs in their ears. There would be jovial laughter, someone would ramble drunkenly about the mythos of Yule, an oratory about freedom and justice would resound, and songs would be sung. This often happened when no one could be seen laughing, or someone was grumbling “Humbug,” or someone denied a cold beggar spare change, or when no carolers were to be seen or heard. It was as though these ghosts were there to fill a void that the people of Paris could not.
Then one Christmas, no one, not even deranged drunks, reported hearing even the slightest whisper through the silence of gently falling snow.
What went unnoticed was that on the other side of the city, nine youths had come together in a small bar, sharing a bottle of champagne and exchanging presents through boasting guffaws. They discussed the true origins of the holiday, and they talked about the men, women, and children living without a roof over their heads and what the government should do to help them, and they sung old carols and new songs from America, the latter often with their own, mocking spin.
It was their first of many Christmases together, and yet it felt like their thousandth.
They had come home at long last.
6. Dreams; Van Halen
Enjolras/Grantaire
“This isn’t over yet. It’s not even close to being finished.”
Two figures stood in the shadows of the alleyway not far from the Corinthe. They watched as the National Guard cleaned up the remnants of the barricade: all the broken furniture and bodies, all the fallen weapons and young and old men.
“The people will rise. It’s only a matter of a time.”
“I know.”
Some passersby tentatively slowed their pace to watch the scene, and others lingered longer to watch with mournful eyes.
“What do we do now?”
A smile. “We?”
“You have permitted me.”
“That I have.” They grasped hands, fingers intertwining. “We continue forward, and we will be with the people when they rise again.”
7. At the Beginning; Donna Lewis & Richard Marx, from Anastasia
Valjean, Cosette
In the quiet moments where Cosette sat on the armchair, Catherine in her lap and her little legs swinging back and forth as she played with the doll, Jean Valjean was able to find a moment of peace.
He turned his head away from the window and watched Cosette with a small smile, the fear of Javert lurking in the shadows below the Gorbeau House momentarily gone. He took joy in her quiet murmurings to her doll, babbling on as though she had years of conversation to catch up on. Which, he chided himself, she did.
But in his silent vow never to have her be alone again, he detected a bit of selfish want: he, too, did not wish to be alone again either. With her as his own, a new beginning had only just started.
8. Everytime We Touch; Cascada
Enjolras/Grantaire
Enjolras opened the door and was immediately greeted to big arms and clumsy lips upon his own.
“Mmf!” He pulled away slightly, his hands resting on the shoulders of the man before him, and smiled. ”What was that greeting for?”
Grantaire grinned widely. “I missed you.”
“I was only gone for a few hours.”
“A few hours too long!”
Enjolras chuckled and closed the distance between them again. As his arms wrapped around Grantaire’s neck, his nose caught the whiff of a delicious scent.
“You made dinner?”
“I did,” said Grantaire as he nuzzled his face into the crook of Enjolras’s neck. “Happy anniversary, love.”
9. Hands; Jewel
Cosette
The nightmares of the Thenardieress never went away. Not in the convent, where she woke up in a cold sweat and clutched her pillow to sob quietly back to sleep. Not at Rue Plumet, where she woke to her father staring gently down upon her with a warm glass of milk and his large hand combing her hair to lull her to peaceful dreams. Not even after she married Marius and shared a bed with him, where he clutched her to his chest and she clutched desperately back.
So she spent her waking hours continuing her father’s work by giving alms to the children of the street. She always helped lost children find their way back to their mothers, and she always asked the priest for anything more she could do to help those in need.
But the most important thing she made sure to do for these children was to smile at them, laugh with them, and always give them an encouraging word or five. She made sure to play when she could and tell stories of faraway lands when she could not. And when she finally bore children of her own, she always made sure to shower them with unconditional love and to teach them to never, ever lose faith in the world.
10. Eye to Eye; Tevin Campbell, from A Goofy Movie
Enjolras/Grantaire
They stood side by side, hand in hand, eye to eye, and time stood still.
Neither of them were concerned with the National Guard and the guns trained on them. With a smile shared and a connection made, they did not dwell on opportunities and time lost nor of the future they would never share together. Instead, they reveled in the moment of reciprocation and of continuous disappointments ended and redeemed, and the bottles and rejections became quickly and long forgotten.
It was a moment that, when time began again, would last forever.
BONUS: Don't Let it Bring You Down; Neil Young
Grantaire
If Grantaire sat down with a sober mind and thought long and hard about when, where, why, and how he turned to the absinthe, he knew that he would not be able to come up with an easy answer.
His life before coming to Paris had not been easy, this much was true. His life since arriving to Paris was little better. Here he made friends, and that was certainly no failing, though a thought always gnawed at him about how much of that friendship was genuine and how much was indulgence. And he hated that he thought that.
He had battles with the bottle before succumbing. They stared each other down, and the only thoughts that Grantaire could come up with in response to anything the bottle shot at him were ones of his own self-doubts and self-loathing. This, of course, led to his loss.
Without fail, he always lost by the time Enjolras entered the Musain, and that made the defeat all the harder to deal with.
And so he drank more.
Author:
bearitRating: PG
Notes: Once upon a time, I did this drabble meme for Dragon Age, and in an effort to get writing again, I decided to do it for Les Miserables. I posted them one-by-one on Tumblr, but now that it's all done, I decided to collect them all here. I hope you enjoy!
Meme Rules:
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.
Disclaimer: Les Miserables belongs to Victor Hugo. This is a piece of fanwork and purely created for fun. No profit is being made from this.
1. First Breath After a Coma; Explosions in the Sky
Enjolras, Les Amis
Enjolras blinked his eyes open to see eight faces peering down on him. He creased his brow.
“You’re alive.”
The words came from his mouth, and some of the others let out a small, relieved chuckle. Enjolras frowned. That dream seemed so real, so vivid. There were details he could remember that he could not from any other dream. And their deaths… even now he could see them as he took his glance between each of his friends, their eyes now so full of life and wounds absent from their bodies. And yet there was something off.
“You’re wearing the same clothes as you did…” He paused. ”It really happened then, didn’t it?”
“Yes.”
It was no dream then. Enjolras sat up and threw off his shirt, looking down on his chest. The bullet wounds he expected to see there did not exist.
A familiar, warm hand grasped his, and Enjolras followed the arm up to the eyes of Grantaire, who smiled serenely down upon him.
“Vive la Republique!”
Did that not happen?
“What is going on?” he asked. “Where are we?”
Grantaire tightened his grip. “Heaven,” he answered. “We are dead.”
2. Lullaby ~Let Me Hold You In My Arms~; Minako Honda
Enjolras/Grantaire
Enjolras lifted his head out of the paperwork on his desk as Grantaire stirred on the bed. His eyes did not open, but he moaned with his face twisted as though in pain.
A pang of guilt rippled through Enjolras. He was not blameless in Grantaire’s recent nightmares. A rumor had spread, and while it held no truth it did not have a reason for existing. Enjolras told Grantaire the full truth of the situation, and Grantaire accepted it wholeheartedly, but the rumor itself had played into his inner demons.
Enjolras crawled into the bed next to Grantaire and gently pulled him into his arms, stroking his hair gently. Grantaire immediately clung to him and murmured sleepily, “Don’t leave me.”
He held him tighter against his chest and whispered, “I won’t. I promise.”
3. Maria; from West Side Story
Marius/Cosette
Marius waltzed away from Rue Plumet with a giddy smile, and he knew that as soon as he walked into the apartment Courfeyrac would tease him endlessly. He could even hear him now: “You look like an idiot.”
Yet, he could not bring himself to care.
He finally met her.
He talked to her.
And she talked back.
His Ursu—no.
Cosette.
Marius took a couple of skips across the street, and he spun around a lamppost with a happy laugh.
Cosette.
And there was not a thing in the world that could bring him down from this high.
4. Nearer My God to Thee; from Titanic
Cosette, Valjean
Cosette sat at the base of the gravestone, gently touching the engraved letters upon it while her other arm cradled her sleeping son.
“Hello, Father,” she murmured. “I brought my son to meet you today. We named him Jean, after you. Marius insisted upon it, and it was too perfect to say no. Isn’t he beautiful, Father? He was fussy before I left the house, which is why I’m late, but I haven’t taken him out too much the past month or two. Today is the first day of sunshine we’ve had in a long time.
“I apologize that he is sleeping. He has the most precious, curious eyes. And the way he coos! He is a delightful child, and already so bright!”
The child stirred, and Cosette drew her attention away from the headstone to tend to him briefly.
“Jean, darling, wake up. I’ve brought you to meet your grandfather.”
5. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas; Judy Garland, from Meet Me in St. Louis
Les Amis
During the Christmastime of many generations since the 1830s, where the old Café Musain stood, people reported hearing strange, ghostly murmurs in their ears. There would be jovial laughter, someone would ramble drunkenly about the mythos of Yule, an oratory about freedom and justice would resound, and songs would be sung. This often happened when no one could be seen laughing, or someone was grumbling “Humbug,” or someone denied a cold beggar spare change, or when no carolers were to be seen or heard. It was as though these ghosts were there to fill a void that the people of Paris could not.
Then one Christmas, no one, not even deranged drunks, reported hearing even the slightest whisper through the silence of gently falling snow.
What went unnoticed was that on the other side of the city, nine youths had come together in a small bar, sharing a bottle of champagne and exchanging presents through boasting guffaws. They discussed the true origins of the holiday, and they talked about the men, women, and children living without a roof over their heads and what the government should do to help them, and they sung old carols and new songs from America, the latter often with their own, mocking spin.
It was their first of many Christmases together, and yet it felt like their thousandth.
They had come home at long last.
6. Dreams; Van Halen
Enjolras/Grantaire
“This isn’t over yet. It’s not even close to being finished.”
Two figures stood in the shadows of the alleyway not far from the Corinthe. They watched as the National Guard cleaned up the remnants of the barricade: all the broken furniture and bodies, all the fallen weapons and young and old men.
“The people will rise. It’s only a matter of a time.”
“I know.”
Some passersby tentatively slowed their pace to watch the scene, and others lingered longer to watch with mournful eyes.
“What do we do now?”
A smile. “We?”
“You have permitted me.”
“That I have.” They grasped hands, fingers intertwining. “We continue forward, and we will be with the people when they rise again.”
7. At the Beginning; Donna Lewis & Richard Marx, from Anastasia
Valjean, Cosette
In the quiet moments where Cosette sat on the armchair, Catherine in her lap and her little legs swinging back and forth as she played with the doll, Jean Valjean was able to find a moment of peace.
He turned his head away from the window and watched Cosette with a small smile, the fear of Javert lurking in the shadows below the Gorbeau House momentarily gone. He took joy in her quiet murmurings to her doll, babbling on as though she had years of conversation to catch up on. Which, he chided himself, she did.
But in his silent vow never to have her be alone again, he detected a bit of selfish want: he, too, did not wish to be alone again either. With her as his own, a new beginning had only just started.
8. Everytime We Touch; Cascada
Enjolras/Grantaire
Enjolras opened the door and was immediately greeted to big arms and clumsy lips upon his own.
“Mmf!” He pulled away slightly, his hands resting on the shoulders of the man before him, and smiled. ”What was that greeting for?”
Grantaire grinned widely. “I missed you.”
“I was only gone for a few hours.”
“A few hours too long!”
Enjolras chuckled and closed the distance between them again. As his arms wrapped around Grantaire’s neck, his nose caught the whiff of a delicious scent.
“You made dinner?”
“I did,” said Grantaire as he nuzzled his face into the crook of Enjolras’s neck. “Happy anniversary, love.”
9. Hands; Jewel
Cosette
The nightmares of the Thenardieress never went away. Not in the convent, where she woke up in a cold sweat and clutched her pillow to sob quietly back to sleep. Not at Rue Plumet, where she woke to her father staring gently down upon her with a warm glass of milk and his large hand combing her hair to lull her to peaceful dreams. Not even after she married Marius and shared a bed with him, where he clutched her to his chest and she clutched desperately back.
So she spent her waking hours continuing her father’s work by giving alms to the children of the street. She always helped lost children find their way back to their mothers, and she always asked the priest for anything more she could do to help those in need.
But the most important thing she made sure to do for these children was to smile at them, laugh with them, and always give them an encouraging word or five. She made sure to play when she could and tell stories of faraway lands when she could not. And when she finally bore children of her own, she always made sure to shower them with unconditional love and to teach them to never, ever lose faith in the world.
10. Eye to Eye; Tevin Campbell, from A Goofy Movie
Enjolras/Grantaire
They stood side by side, hand in hand, eye to eye, and time stood still.
Neither of them were concerned with the National Guard and the guns trained on them. With a smile shared and a connection made, they did not dwell on opportunities and time lost nor of the future they would never share together. Instead, they reveled in the moment of reciprocation and of continuous disappointments ended and redeemed, and the bottles and rejections became quickly and long forgotten.
It was a moment that, when time began again, would last forever.
BONUS: Don't Let it Bring You Down; Neil Young
Grantaire
If Grantaire sat down with a sober mind and thought long and hard about when, where, why, and how he turned to the absinthe, he knew that he would not be able to come up with an easy answer.
His life before coming to Paris had not been easy, this much was true. His life since arriving to Paris was little better. Here he made friends, and that was certainly no failing, though a thought always gnawed at him about how much of that friendship was genuine and how much was indulgence. And he hated that he thought that.
He had battles with the bottle before succumbing. They stared each other down, and the only thoughts that Grantaire could come up with in response to anything the bottle shot at him were ones of his own self-doubts and self-loathing. This, of course, led to his loss.
Without fail, he always lost by the time Enjolras entered the Musain, and that made the defeat all the harder to deal with.
And so he drank more.