(les mis) empty chairs at empty tables
Sep. 28th, 2006 12:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
visionplaceTitle: Empty Chairs at Empty Tables
Fandom: Les Miserables
Characters: Marius, Cosette
Fandom: Les Miserables
Characters: Marius, Cosette
The tavern was nigh on dark now, no life stirring within its walls, the stillness serving as an aide memoire to the empty sacrifice laid down at its doorstep. A motionless figure sat bent over a corner table, the small candle below him flickering in its last moments. His heart beat, and the loneliness and defeat that hung in the air passed through his lungs, but Marius had ceased to live since that night.
The weathered building settled, cracking like gunfire, and he trembled, the blanket that hung round his shoulders slinking to the dusty floor. He raised his eyes slowly, the glisten of tears that would not fall reflecting in the faint illumination of the dying candlelight. He stared across the vacant tavern in remorseful reflection, the nearly-mended wound in his shoulder throbbing mercilessly. Shouts of revolution and freedom reverberated off the silence. Youthful faces full of resolve flashed like shadows on the walls. An accusatory finger pointed into his chest, condemning his very breath, and Marius peered down to find that it was his own. He got to his feet as the memory of his departed friends encircled him like ghosts, and he closed his eyes, the grief in his heart brimming over. He took short, stilted breaths that tasted of the alcohol that had been his only nourishment for days and brought his arms across his chest in a self-embrace.
When the sound of faint footsteps echoed in his ears, Marius blinked open his eyes to find himself in shadowy darkness. A string of thick black smoke trailed from the now-extinguished candle, visible in the splinter of moonlight that shone through the open door. The silhouette of a woman stood in the middle of the room and for a moment, his heart leapt into his throat. Her smile flashed in his mind and her name appeared on his tongue. ‘ponine. But the figure stepped out of the moonlight to reveal herself and at once Marius felt the warmth of freshly spilt blood on his fingertips. His body shook as he looked down at his hands, unable to grasp how it came to pass that they had been the death bed of dear, loyal Eponine.
He felt the heat of the blanket being draped over his shoulders once more and looked up through glistening eyes to see the solemn face of Cosette beside him. She neither spoke nor brushed away the tears that had finally begun to stream down his pallid face. Instead, she placed a soft hand across his back and slowly led him to the door. She allowed Marius one backward glance into the tavern, past the empty chairs at empty tables, before she led him away.
The weathered building settled, cracking like gunfire, and he trembled, the blanket that hung round his shoulders slinking to the dusty floor. He raised his eyes slowly, the glisten of tears that would not fall reflecting in the faint illumination of the dying candlelight. He stared across the vacant tavern in remorseful reflection, the nearly-mended wound in his shoulder throbbing mercilessly. Shouts of revolution and freedom reverberated off the silence. Youthful faces full of resolve flashed like shadows on the walls. An accusatory finger pointed into his chest, condemning his very breath, and Marius peered down to find that it was his own. He got to his feet as the memory of his departed friends encircled him like ghosts, and he closed his eyes, the grief in his heart brimming over. He took short, stilted breaths that tasted of the alcohol that had been his only nourishment for days and brought his arms across his chest in a self-embrace.
When the sound of faint footsteps echoed in his ears, Marius blinked open his eyes to find himself in shadowy darkness. A string of thick black smoke trailed from the now-extinguished candle, visible in the splinter of moonlight that shone through the open door. The silhouette of a woman stood in the middle of the room and for a moment, his heart leapt into his throat. Her smile flashed in his mind and her name appeared on his tongue. ‘ponine. But the figure stepped out of the moonlight to reveal herself and at once Marius felt the warmth of freshly spilt blood on his fingertips. His body shook as he looked down at his hands, unable to grasp how it came to pass that they had been the death bed of dear, loyal Eponine.
He felt the heat of the blanket being draped over his shoulders once more and looked up through glistening eyes to see the solemn face of Cosette beside him. She neither spoke nor brushed away the tears that had finally begun to stream down his pallid face. Instead, she placed a soft hand across his back and slowly led him to the door. She allowed Marius one backward glance into the tavern, past the empty chairs at empty tables, before she led him away.
- December 21, 2005
