so we all know there’s a bunch of stuff from hugo’s papers and notebooks that never made it into the novel, yes? here are a lot of them (look at them if you haven’t! it’s an adventure) but i’ve made it my mission in life to find more and today at the library i came across this book and in it, there were more. and guys. guys. one of them is my absolute favourite piece of e/R dialogue that never was. please have a look at this:
GRANTAIRE, smoking his pipe and tipsy
People think me situated at the height of philosophy. They are wrong. I am a pig.
– That’s true, said Enjolras.
just picture this exchange. grantaire, smoking a pipe, saying mean stuff about himself, as he does. enjolras, listening, calmly nodding, “yeah….tru….you’re saying it like it is.” combeferre really has some competition in the whole “completely destroy ur opponent using two words or less” department, and grantaire arguably has unlocked a whole new level of putting his own intellect down for fun
(seriously, though, it’s interesting that he wrote this bit in 1861 – so shortly before publication – because around that time, he also made a work note that said “increase enjolras’ harshness toward grantaire. near contempt” so this might have been an idea of how to do that, but he ended up not using it? you can always argue about how intentional the whole e/R dynamic is, but there was a lot of thought put into its details, because that’s the hugo way)
Ooh, I’ve seen this exchange before but without the work note! It’s interesting that he didn’t use it, then! I’ve often thought that the way Enjolras is actually shown treating Grantaire doesn’t really line up with Hugo’s description– except at the barricades, Enjolras never seems to be much besides “reasonably annoyed” about him.
…I gotta say though, that in combination with what we see of Grantaire’s other exchanges, this bit of dialogue does actually read as more familiar and friendly than what we’re given in the book. Grantaire does a lot of Play Insulting and boundary-testing with his friends–including Enjolras– in-book, and is sarcastic and insulting about the whole world in general a lot. This seems to be on that level– which I know is not a comfortable way of expressing closeness for everyone, but we’ve got lots of evidence that it is *for Grantaire*–which to me makes it seem that Enjolras, who’s otherwise pretty serious and direct, is to some extent meeting him halfway on that . I mean, I could see this being part of a series of bantering dialogue between R and Courfeyrac or Bossuet, no problem. (Grantaire of course has much more complicated feelings about Enjolras, but it’s hardly Enjolras’ job to know that when Grantaire himself doesn’t.)
Anyway, it is a great little bit of dialogue! Thank you for bringing it back!
A very long over-due update to my on-going WIP Life, Interrupted!
Fandom: Les Miserables
Pairings: Enjolras/Grantaire, Jehan/Courfeyrac, Grantaire/Montparnasse
Warnings: strong language, drugs & alcohol
Summary: Time Traveller’s Wife AU where Grantaire suffers from a rare condition that causes him to involuntarily travel through time, and Enjolras is a politically charged beacon that Grantaire repeatedly finds himself drawn to.(Previous Parts)
The clock on the mantelpiece ticked monotonously as Grantaire collected himself, reveling in the safety of his own home; his own time.
Inspired by this gifset made by @and-thesunwillrise, I wrote this about 3 years ago, but I think it’s rather appropriate for Barricade Day, so… ^_^ Also, I never made an actual fic post for it, and I figured it was about time.
Once the others had gone, the Captain finally moved, stepped over the bodies in the center of the room without even a passing glance. He knew them all. He knew their names, their faces, their habits and vices. He knew their loves and their hopes, their dreams for a brighter tomorrow – a tomorrow which would never come. Not in their lifetimes.
June 6th. It always came back to June 6th.
August 21, 2013: I realize I only just posted Chapter 10 of FYFM. But this plot bunny grabbed hold of me a few days ago and just wouldn’t let me go until I’d satisfied it. It all started with this gifset. And-thesunwillrise made this amazing thing based off the fact that Hadley Fraser played both the Army Officer (whom I have given the name “Captain Durand” for the duration of this fic, because I don’t believe he has a canon name) in the LM movie and Grantaire in the LM 25th Anniversary Concert. The gifset layers the incredibly tender moment between Hadley!R and Ramin!Enjolras from Drink With Me over the moment when Hadley!Army Officer executes George!R and Aaron!Enjolras… which immediately made me want time loop fic of some kind.
…and here it is. *sheepish grin* That, uh… didn’t take long, did it? -.-;;;
Fandom: Les Misérables – All Media Types, Les Misérables – Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables (2012)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire, Enjolras (Tveit)/Grantaire (Blagden), Enjolras (Karimloo)/Grantaire (Fraser)
Characters: Grantaire (Les Misérables), Grantaire (Fraser), Army Officer (Les Miserables), Enjolras (Les Misérables), Enjolras (Karimloo), Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Combeferre (Les Misérables), Joly (Les Misérables), Enjolras (Tveit), Grantaire (Blagden), Death – Character
Additional Tags: Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, Supernatural Elements, Death, Multiverse, Doomed Relationship, Heavy Angst, Angst, Personified Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, …sort of
♝ – Reading something together.
Fournier, venerable librarian, was on her last nerve. All through last week
someone has been playing some sort of prank on her and – while it wasn’t all
that funny to begin with – it was getting very old very quickly.
even anything outright harmful or offensive – just a misplaced book. A
constantly, wilfully misplaced book. That somehow got misplaced during the
night when the library was locked and the alarm was up.
was the mind bogging part, wasn’t it? That some hooligan would go through the
pain of unlocking the doors, switching off the alarm, find the book (always the
same, a copy of Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables), place it on one of the reading
tables, neatly switch the alarm back on and lock up the building. A devious
devious mind with way too much free time.
Mme Fournier’s first idea was to blame scatter-brained colleagues who forgot to
fully tidy up, but after a couple of days when she locked up herself, and made
sure that she was the last to leave she was forced to discard this theory.
her only with the former, pointlessly absurd alternative.
the other wanted war, then there shall be war!
how one fine June evening found the valiant librarian hiding among the shelves
armed with an electric torch and one of the metal bars she used to prop the
windows with. She found a nice place where she had a clear view of the table
the mysterious offender always left the book – but, come night, she would be
hard to spot herself.
with her plan and equipment she settled in for the wait. And wait she did, for
hours and hours. Maybe the fact that she didn’t turn the alarm on tonight
warned the prankster off? Entirely possible. But now she was here she wasn’t
about to budge. She looked down on her watch, straining her eyes to make out
the time. She didn’t succeed so she looked up again, frustrated…
men were sitting at the table, huddled close together, reading a book. No,
actually reading the book, the same
worn copy of Les Misérables that kept being misplaced.
contemplated jumping out on them right then, but quickly decided against it.
Let’s assess the situation first, let’s not be hasty!
prominent thing about her culprits was their odd clothing. It looked like they
got lost on their way to a dress-up party, their attire fit more with the book
they were reading than with the modern world. Coat, vest, cravat – they had
everything a real XIX th century gentleman would need.
On a second
thought though, maybe only one of them was a man? Well, sure they were both
dressed like men, but the one – he, if it was indeed a he, looked more like a
woman, with his smooth face, soft, fine features and long blond hair.
Maybe he was just very young.
companion was of a heavier build and had a rougher appearance. Well, ‘rough’ was
putting it nicely. The pretty blond didn’t seem to mind in the least though. He
allowed the other to rest his chin on his shoulder as they progressed with
their reading. They made no sound whatsoever, except for the quiet rustling of
the turning pages.
Fournier, remembering her quest, drew a deep breath, meaning to march over and
tell them off, when the blond boy made a sudden movement with his head,
accidentally throwing off his friend. Full lips contorting into a contemptuous little
pout he tapped his finger irritably on the page – presumably indicating an
offending passage. His companion leant over to look at it – then sat back, his
whole body shaking with soundless laughter. The blond one rolled his eyes and
shook his head, obviously thinking his friend impossible.
man finally settled down and, taking the other’s hand with infinite care and
gentleness, brushed a small, apologetic kiss over his knuckles. This seemed to have done the trick: while the
pretty blond didn’t outright smile his expression softened as he gazed at his
companion (lover? partner?) fondly.
this tender display was, Mme Fournier supposed it shouldn’t be happening in a
locked up library, at arse-o-clock in the night and so she decided to finally
step up and put an end to it.
up, straightened her clothing and stepped forward…
men were gone.
no sound and no movement save for the wavering of the book’s pages in the slight
“Long live the Republic! I’m one of them.”
OKAY so this idea started bc I’m all about soulmate aus and all the different ways they can be done, and I can’t remember if I was just thinking about it or a tumblr post got me started, but I was thinking about how the existence of a soulmate system would have affected history as we know it (I’m also all about worldbuilding), and in order to try and fit it into the way our world is now, I thought okay, maybe for a start, soulmate isn’t the word used. It’s something like your ‘intended’ or whatever. It’s not viewed as romantic, bc same-sex pairings would obviously be happening, and that would need to be explained away in a homophobic society, so it’s just seen as ‘this person is destined to have a really big impact on my life, not necessarily in any particular way’.
So, canon-era, I figured that male same-sex pairings would be seen (at least in the upper classes) as intellectual pairings, maybe even brotherly (whether they really are or not). Female same-sex pairings would be pure and chaste and all that stuff. Because of the big gender power divide, the bonds of women would have less value than the bonds of men. Example: in my SUPER ROUGH plan for this potential fic, I had Grantaire come from a fairly well-off family where his father is unmatched, and his mother’s soulmate lives with them, basically as Grantaire’s second mother. She’s unmarried, but her bond to Grantaire’s mother connects her to that household, so she’s provided for at Grantaire’s father’s discretion. The men still hold all the power, so if he wanted to, he could throw her out, and she wouldn’t have any real legal defence if he decided to treat her as a second wife, though any children from that union would still be illegitimate because they’re unmarried.
I’m rambling, whoops. The basic point boils down to soulmates (or whatever I’d end up calling them) DON’T have the life-changing status they do in most aus. It’s not a huge deal if you have one or not, it isn’t necessarily romantic (in fact at this point in history, what with the strict social classes, I’m thinking they might be thought of as generally platonic). I’m thinking you only get one or two, two maximum. It’s also not something that necessarily happens the first time you see your intended. It might happen then, or it might happen later. There’s no hard and fast rule. You might look at your friend one day, and just KNOW.
The proof of a bond’s existence (I’m thinking) would be a mark on the skin. Some sort of abstract pattern, not a name or words. Not even necessarily like a tattoo, though I’m still see-sawing on that. The mark only appears when the paired couple are touching skin to skin. In this au, soulmates are required by law to register their bond, so their names will be logged along with a description/drawing of their shared mark. This would be ostensibly for the same reasons marriages are recorded – for law when it comes to stuff like children, inheritance, etc. Soulmates would have some definite rights, especially men, though I’m still pretty fuzzy on the details.
All of this (dear god) to say that there is loads and loads of room for misunderstandings and terrible communication in this au, which as we all know leads to pining, which is always always good. Basically, Enjolras and Grantaire meet, and soon after that realise they’re intended. Grantaire is cautiously delighted, Enjolras tries to be polite but is kind of like wtf why this wine-cask. They try to get to know each other, Grantaire is terrible and comes off like a massive dick, Enjolras is supremely unimpressed, they don’t talk to each other much after that. Enjolras pokes at the problem from a distance, not understanding at all how this outwardly unsavoury man is going to impact his life in any positive way, and Grantaire continues to be a boor while despairing simultaneously about his inability to make anything even resembling a good impression. It’s dreadful, they’re both dreadful, and in the end Enjolras gets the papers together to lawfully divorce Grantaire (which is a thing that can be done, because what if – god forbid – you were rich and ended up with a lower-class soulmate? Such a situation could not be allowed to stand, so soulmate divorces are rare, but exist). Grantaire is very upset and refuses, and they try to get to know each other properly.
I’m thinking this will come with a side-order of printshop!Enjolras, the two of them singlestick fighting, and possibly closeted Grantaire who is Not Okay with his own gayness.
But honestly if I ever write this, it’ll be a miracle, because a) canon-era fic is difficult, historical fiction is DIFFICULT and b) god, just look at the length of this ramble, imagine how long writing an entire FIC would be. Urgh, I do want to do it, but it’s a sad fact that it might take literal years for me to do it justice.
Enjolras: How do we keep it light and breezy… I know. A comprehensive set of rules.
Grantaire: How am I attracted to you? Doesn’t matter. I am. Go.
more miserable lesbians
My body is very attracted to your body, but when you speak my brain gets angry.
Follow You, Follow Me (103393 words) — Chapter 19
As Enjolras moved, Grantaire got up from the couch and sat on the coffee table. By the time Enjolras got himself into a sitting position, words were coming more easily, but his voice, when it emerged, was rough, like he’d smoked a few too many cigarettes. “You came.”
Another soft smile. “What are friends for?”
“Is that what we are?”
Grantaire’s smile fell.
March 26, 2016: It’s been TWO DAYS SHY OF A YEAR. *hangs head in shame* But I’m about to have a super, super awful day, and for some reason that gave me the impetus I needed to finally finish this chapter. I’m so, so sorry for the wait. But I appreciate the patience of every single one of you who’s still following this story.
…no pun intended. ^_~