#cosette x marius

[musicalbracket]

FINAL ROUND

[thatisntverycombefair]

-valjean asking cosette about marius

[differentprincedinosaur]

[arcadianambivalence]

Les Mis Letters 4.5.4 - The Heart Beneath the Stone

I really like this set of chapters leading up to Marius and Cosette getting to have a proper introduction to each other. Knowing what we know about the same year/years from Marius's perspective, the reader is expected to draw a line between each partner's emotional highs and lows.

Marius possessed one of those temperaments which bury themselves in sorrow and there abide; Cosette was one of those persons who plunge into sorrow and emerge from it again.

-4.5.1

When she's at the dawning of a new time in her life, he feels like he has the world shut on him. Where she's courage and action, he's contemplation and hesitation. One shrinks back, the other steps forward (like a dance). When he is like one with one foot in the tomb, she is emotionally bringing Valjean back to life again, and thought of her gives Marius renewed life, too.

It sets up that as a couple, they could draw on each other's strengths. Like the saying goes: You complete me. Or, as Marius puts it:

When love has fused and mingled two beings in a sacred and angelic unit [...] they are no longer anything more than the two boundaries of the same destiny; they are no longer anything but the two wings of the same spirit.

-4.5.4

And to balance Cosette (according to Hugo) making the first move (i.e., meeting his eye, looking after him, crossing the park to intentionally pass him when he gets too nervous to draw attention to himself), Marius makes the first declaration.

Yeah, his words can be awkward and corny, his contemplations on love and the universe perhaps grandiose, but it's from the heart beneath the stone. It's real feeling and real effort, not Tholmyes singing someone else's song with little sincerity to Fantine and the other ladies. That's how we know he means what he wrote, that Cosette isn't in danger of repeating her mother's life. (His mother's, on the other hand...)

When paper and ink should have been carefully preserved for his translation work, he took the time (over months) to write out his feelings and later carefully select which papers to enclose in the envelope for Cosette. Instead of just climbing into the garden as soon as he got the address or trying to force some introduction by pressuring Toussaint, he leaves the ball (er, the envelope) in her court to read and respond or reject at her leisure.

The focus on how attraction to the other initiates character development and introspection instead of having them introduced the socially proper way through a mutual friend or with her father's express permission doesn't bother me.

[The sneaking to the garden at night (if it was him on all occasions and not Eponine scouting the place initially) to determine if this is indeed where She lives, I have no excuse for.

Like, I get that it's following the footsteps of classical forbidden lovers, with explicit and implicit references to Romeo & Juliet, what with her symbolically representing light and life to his melancholy, the instinct for the young lovers to keep everything a secret from her father, etc., etc...but Toussaint's worries over "the men" does make the modern reader worry about foreshadowing instead of subversion.]

...But the rest of the furtive glances to pining to secret love has some logic from an in-universe standpoint that gels with the nineteenth century novels I've read, so...

Plus, I'm a sucker for love stories that make everything seem to go wrong with one person as they fall for someone and think they've lost them only for the narrative to flip to the other character's PoV and reveal they've felt the same way all along.

[devasdiary]

fashionistas cosette and courfeyrac and their sad little loser boyfriend marius <3

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Les Miserables

Sample Size: 25,546 stories

Source: AO3

[chrysalismandtea]

les amis de l’abc as things me and my friends have said

enjolras: i wish i allowed myself to smoke just to escape functions

combeferre: i’d probably be better off as a jukebox

courfeyrac: (in a discussion about what we should make a podcast on) how many mini sandwiches i can eat in an hour?

jehan: dude i was dizzy when i was BORN

feuilly: (talking about cop shows) i’d make a great dead body

joly: (stressfully) you’ll leave me without a neck, and people without necks aren’t people, they’re corpses!

bossuet: hey, if i made you run errands without paying you would it be considered slavery?

bahorel: we have plenty of grass for you, too. goat (affectionately)

grantaire: (clearly sarcastically) today is my forte

marius: just think about it.. your children’s parent lives on this planet right now

eponine: manic pixie dream girl? nah, i said i’m a panic moxie grim girl

cosette: actually girlhood is listening to loud music and rearranging furniture

musichetta: dude they’re men, they only care about books and astrology

[differentprincedinosaur]

Literally marius

My baby loves Napoleon, so I drew this…😔

[nortism]

jean valjean shouldn’t have died at the end of les miserables solely because i feel we were robbed of getting to see he having an awkward father-in-law / son-in-law relationship with marius

[harmonikauv3gajto]

Little Cosette & Marius doodle because I cant stop thinking about them

[thatisntverycombefair]

has a great day everyday gf x only has a great day if gf smiles at them

but make it cosette x marius

[lalarose216]

YES someone write a fic!!!!!

What would've happened if Cosette went to the barricade to help save Marius.. like.. pretend Cosette found the letter Marius wrote for her, and she set off to go find Marius herself?

[differentprincedinosaur]

Blue, white and red

[the-lark-not-the-dove]

I WENT TO SEE LES MIS NATIONAL TOUR!

I am and always have been a huge les mis fan. Today's my birthday and I wanted to go and see Les Mis again because it's so very important to me. THIS WAS AMAZING!!!!!!!!! (9/7/24 Matinee Philadelphia)

my thoughts

-enjolras and grantaire matched each others freak oh my god I love them so much I am unwell. during the barricade scene they pushed their heads together and looked like they was gonna kiss, then enj went to the top and DIED. along with my heart fr

--same with marius and cosette they were both so silly and amazing their relationship is the only thing convincing me that love is real. keep on doing amazing guys <3

-KYLE ADAMS GRANTAIRE OF ALL TIME??????

-valjean hitting that crazy high note when he said 'took the silver, took MY FLIGHT!!!!!!!!!'' like bro it's giving '' the next day Anatole left FOR PETERSBURG!!!!!!!!!!''

-GAVROCHE FLIPPED JAVERT OFF!

-Marius and Grantaire being silly during red & black. I can't explain you had to be there.

-R was the last one alive at the barricade and he ran up, shouted something, and then died too. :(

-R having a tense moment with Enj and then going off the a corner and hitting his fist on the wall in frustration. And then Gav hugging him omg <3

-did i mention kyle adams grantaire of all time (he signed my playbill😎)

-conclusion: it is my life (i did not live until today) i need to see it again (how can I live when we are parted?)

[la-pheacienne]

Am I the only person on planet earth who believes that Cosette and Marius are a beautiful love story? Yeah it has been so many years since I read this and yeah I was a teen, but I still remember what I felt when I read their story and their deep love for each other really really touched me. They were both orphans, two broken people who found each other by sheer luck and made each other really happy and gave each other hope and light in the midst of adversity and misery. It's just a beautiful depiction of real, deep, visceral, honest emotion between two people. How can you be completely immune to that? And this without even talking about the form, the lyricism, the poetic beauty of the text, the guy literally wrote one of the most iconic passages about romantic love that have ever been written and all you seem to care about is, idk, the power imbalance between them because of gender roles? Or the fact that Marius stalked Cosette? Or the fact that the "love at first sight" trope is boring and conservative? This is fine if the goal is to deconstruct patriarchy but I'm afraid it completely lacks feeling and honest engagement with the text, you know? This approach to the story is so flat and lifeless that I wonder if we've all read the same book. Everyone is entitled to their feelings and their tastes in art of course, but I will just suggest that if you truly do not feel anything at all while reading this love story then maybe 19th century Romanticism isn't for you? Idk.

[kjack89]

Never Say Die

Happy Barricade Day!

On the night of June 5th, Marius arrived home late. Cosette was not waiting for him at the door, wringing her hands with worry. She had learned her lesson after the first year, after hours spent pacing, wondering when Marius would return, fearing that something had happened to him – he was weak still, weaker than he would ever admit, try as he did to be strong for her especially, but his body had not yet fully healed even a year on, to say nothing of the other wounds he bore that very well may never heal. Marius had returned home eventually that first June night, late enough that the date had slipped from the 5th to the 6th, and when finally he did walk through the door, Cosette threw her arms around him. “I feared the worst,” she told him, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “I feared I may have lost you.”

His only response had been to stroke her dark hair gently, holding her until she let go. He offered no word then of where he had gone, or where he would again go the following year, or the year after. He did not voice the names of those he had lost, no more than he shared any tales of the time they had spent together. 

Not then, at least, but Cosette had slowly learned of those who had suffered the fate Marius had come so close to, when Marius let slip a name or the start of a story. At first, he would break off, his face creasing with pain from a wound that would never truly mend, no matter her ministrations. Then, over time, he would tell her more. Very rarely about the barricade itself, but more about the small moments he had shared with his friends, his observations of the men he had known.

As the years passed, Cosette felt like she finally knew the men she had never had a chance to meet, the men whose impact on Marius remained marked, even after all this time.

So much so that every June 5th, like the one in question, he would disappear from their house to spend time, seemingly, with the ghosts of his memory as his only companion.

And though she would never understand what it must be like to carry them with him, she could equally never find it in herself to begrudge him this one indulgence.

On the night in question, Cosette had long since retired to their bed, though she was still awake when he slipped in beside her, and she waited for him to make himself comfortable and blow out his candle before curling against him. 

For a long moment they lay together in silence until finally Cosette ventured softly, “I know that you miss them.”

Marius sighed. “I do,” he confirmed, equally quiet.

Cosette lifted herself up to tell him, sincerely, “I wish there was anything more I could do to ease this ache each June.”

Wordlessly, Marius gathered her to him, kissing her forehead. “I do miss them,” he repeated, “but that is– it is an old hurt now.” He shook his head. “Time heals, they say, and I know not how much truth there is in such a pat sentiment. But it does ease the consternation, at least slightly. And besides…”

He trailed off and Cosette frowned up at him. “And besides?” she prompted after a moment.

Marius cleared his throat. “And besides, they’re not gone, of course,” he finished, his voice a little rough. “Not truly.”

“In the way that no one who we love ever truly leaves us?” Cosette asked, laying her head against Marius’s chest.

He bent to press another kiss to the top of her head. “Yes,” he said, “but also no. It’s more than that.”

She tilted her head up toward him. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated. “I mean…they live on,” he said finally, the starkness of the statement emphasizing its sincerity. “They must.” He shrugged almost helplessly. “Just as I feel they must have lived before. Whenever one galvanizes a small group against all odds, I must believe that Enjolras is there in that moment, in that strength in the arm hoisting a flag high.”

Cosette had never heard him speak of his friends this way, and she almost held her breath, as if afraid that would be enough to break the spell.

Marius stroked her hair almost absentmindedly as he continued, something soft and almost wistful in his tone, “When one manages to teach the most important of lessons with the simplest of words, I must believe that Combeferre is speaking through them, as once he spoke to me. When one is bone-weary from scraping a living but still shows up in every way that matters, they keep Feuilly alive with them.”

His hand stilled and Cosette tightened her grip on him, just slightly, the small movement enough for his hand to resume its motions. “Bossuet lives through every selfless gesture, every sacrifice which may seem small but lights a fire that can never be extinguished, and Joly lives at his side to walk through that fire with him.” 

Despite himself, he smiled, just slightly. “And should my words, should anyone’s words in service of revolution seem even slightly poetic, then I know it is only because Jehan breathes them from our lips. And when words fail and fists become the only recourse, I know Bahorel is there, with that fierce grin.” 

He shook his head, his smile fading. “And whenever a toast is raised to friendship, to the unbreakable bonds of brotherhood, I will only ever see Grantaire, his bottle held aloft.”

“And Courfeyrac—” 

For the first time, his voice broke, and Cosette held him even tighter, not daring to speak. After a long moment, Marius cleared his throat, though he made no attempt to finish his thought, only kissing Cosette once more, the gesture saying more than his words ever could.

“They lived,” Marius said finally, his voice quiet but banded with steel. “They were real, flesh and blood. I touched them, I knew them, I loved them.”

Again his voice broke. “Love them still.”

He swallowed, hard, his voice rough and pained as he said, barely louder than a whisper, “And they died. And a part of my heart died with them on the barricade that day.”

There was just the hint of sob in his voice, the hint of such naked pain that caught in his throat as if he didn’t dare share it, and Cosette’s heart broke for him. Wordlessly, she propped herself upright and tugged him down so that their positions were reversed, so that she held Marius against her breast as he curled around her, hot tears soaking the bodice of her nightgown.

After a long moment, Marius recovered somewhat, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath and shifting so that his head rested against his shoulder, and he reached down to take her hand, lacing their fingers together. “They died,” he repeated, more steadily this time. :But their ideas—” He shook his head. “They were never solely theirs and so could never, can never, truly die.” He turned his head to press a kiss to her shoulder before adding, “Not until all chains and broken and there are no battles left to fight, at least.”

He brushed his thumb lightly against her knuckles. “It is a beautiful gift, in a way,” he whispered, more to himself than to her, “to live forever as a thread in the fabric of freedom.” He squeezed her hand. “And as much as I miss them, and I do, some days more than words, some days so much that my heart feels it might claw its way from my chest, there is great comfort in knowing that.”

Marius took one last deep breath before finishing, “And it makes it at least a little easier to bear.”

For one long moment, Cosette was silent, simply holding Marius against her, her own unshed tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Then she bent to kiss his forehead like a benediction, like absolution for that pain she knew he still carried with him. “For what little it is worth,” she whispered, “though I never met them, I feel as though they live within my heart as well.”

“It is worth everything,” he told her, tugging her down to kiss her properly before telling her, “And that too makes it easier to bear.”

As much as she would never truly know if Marius meant it, or simply said it to ease her own conscience, the secondhand hurt she carried from him, Cosette still felt something warm bloom in her chest at his words, and she pulled him closer still, holding him silently  with the only comfort she could offer until sleep claimed them both.

If all of his friends lived within him, within any who continued their fight, then Cosette had to believe that Marius too would live on inside anyone who survived to fight still.

And as she drifted to sleep still holding Marius against her, she could not help but think that was as beautiful a belief as any she’d ever held.