pro_patria_mortuus | (no subject)

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(no subject)

In Room 89, the television is on. Courfeyrac has been mastering the arcane mysteries of the remote control.

Previously, this meant a great deal of switching between channels at random intervals; Enjolras arrived in the middle of this exercise, and settled down with a book and his thoughts to affectionately ignore Courfeyrac's entertainment. (It was a bit like being in a mostly empty café or near an open window, except that the sound abruptly flickered to a new scene every so often.) But then Courfeyrac found a show created by the Tourism Board of France.

Right now, a cheerful woman's voice is explaining the Lemon Festival of Menton.

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"Not so far as Bahorel or I know."

Which is better than it could be, but it's not as if Javert is given to confiding in any of them.

"It's a concern." To Courfeyrac in particular, he adds, "Apparently it's not only about our own barricade. There are some details of the men of '48 -- some names, locations, trials." Not only men, Enjolras, but it must be admitted that Victor Hugo also has significant blind spots in this area. "By '62, no doubt it was public knowledge and no harm, but here, for the spy..."

"If possible, we should keep him from learning anything of the book's existence, but I know of no practical way to accomplish that."

Combeferre looks at Enjolras.

Combeferre knows perfectly well that there is a simple practical way of keeping the spy from learning anything of the book's existence--or indeed, from learning anything ever again. He knows that Enjolras knows it, too. But Combeferre refrains from bringing this up: if Enjolras has not raised the topic, that means it is not under any real consideration at this time.

"Didn't I hear that M. Fauchelevent had been spending some time with the spy?"

Combeferre directs this question to both Enjolras and Courfeyrac, who have been here longer than him. "If so, perhaps we can ask M. Fauchelevent whether the spy knows anything. Perhaps even enlist his help in diverting the spy from the book. Though I don't know if M. Fauchelevent would be willing to do this, or if you would be willing to ask him."

Edited 2015-01-27 04:03 (UTC)

Courfeyrac is hastily riffling through the pages now - he would like to read about 1848! But it's a big book and he cannot find it, so he looks to his friends.

'I would volunteer to speak to the man about this, but I have not seen him here yet. I will introduce myself - properly this time - if you'd like me to, but if you are speaking to him about the book anyway Enjolras, perhaps you might enquire after this at the same time? The spy cannot find out anything about the future - he may be dead in sixteen years time, but that does not mean he won't leave instructions behind him.'

Edited 2015-01-27 18:45 (UTC)

Enjolras returns Combeferre's look. They both know perfectly well what's going unsaid.

It's not an option under serious consideration right now. Later... who knows?

"He's worth speaking with in any case. But yes, I will."

"So far as I can tell, Fauchelevent trusts the spy to not pose any danger to him personally -- they have some history together -- and to have some redeeming traits. I don't know how much they're in each other's confidence on any subject. And I've seen no reason to think anyone else can take any assurance from that. Still, I'll ask. He may know something, or learn it later. And he lives still, and can act as we can't."

That doesn't mean he'll be willing to act. Enjolras makes no assumptions on that score. Even the ones he would prefer to make; Valjean is not of their politics, he came to the barricade for his daughter's sake, he's willing to socialize with the spy for his own reasons. Enjolras trusts his discretion and his good heart, but they can't afford to assume that will translate into action, rather than merely silence.

Combeferre nods. It may be laudable for Fauchelevent to see good in the spy, as it was for him to spare the spy at the barricade. But as much as Combeferre may feel sympathy for that, the spy is still a threat to them. And, more importantly, to their friends and allies still living.

"He did give us that last uniform at the barricade," Combeferre says. "I suspect he will be amenable to an appeal on behalf of those of our sympathies, who will go on to play a role in 1848. Their lives and liberty, their families...I believe he will feel charitably to them, regardless of his disinterest in their politics."

He believes this based on what he's read in the novel. Highly embroidered it may be, even altered in many details, but the charitable impulse--that is a consistent feature throughout the book, and tallies with what Combeferre saw in the old eccentric at the barricade, and with what he's heard of Fauchelevent since. Combeferre believes in Fauchelevent's charity because he knows things he has no real right to know. There's a twinge of guilt that accompanies this; still, it would be foolish to ignore such a weapon. And information is a weapon--the greatest weapon--even as it is a balm and a light.

Combeferre doesn't like that thought much. It turns his greatest passion to violent ends. He sits down, and rests his chin on his hands.

"Let us hope so, anyway," he finishes.

He closes the book. He does not miss the look that passes between the two of them, and understands what it means. And his face is quite serious as he thinks it over; the conclusion is not hard to reach. If it must be done, then so be it. As with any of them, Courfeyrac is not afraid to make the hardest choices.

Still, he sits down too.

'I cannot contribute before reading it; I cannot claim any knowledge of him at all, beyond his actions at the barricade. But while it may be a hard thing to ask of him if he is friendly with the spy, surely he cannot possibly refuse to help? If he is a charitable man - and he is a man who will not kill, even! - then he will not condemn any future families by inaction.'

"He asked once after the families of those who died at the barricade, who might suffer from a breadwinner's loss. I trust his motives in asking. I believe he will have charity and compassion. How far that will carry him, I don't know. But we can appeal to him. His conscience will guide him from there. His silence, at the very least, we can ask and I think be granted."

Combeferre nods. He finds has a surprising amount of faith in Fauchelevent's conscience. The eccentric who came to a barricade and refused to kill--yes, that's a man who has earned some trust.

"Then I wish you good luck for that conversation, my friend," he says, wryly. "It will be painful for him, and I expect for you also--but perhaps it may be fruitful nonetheless."

'It is all that can be hoped for, I would say.'

He looks down at the book in his hands, his expression rueful.

'It is not a good position for anyone, but we must make the best of it. Save who can be saved, if possible. So I wish you luck also, Enjolras.'

In the meantime, he is going to read the novel.

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