For Athos

[lafaute]

For all that this world seems so equitable in so many ways, there are things here that Gavroche finds entirely unjust. The fact that there are still those that starve or have no homes to go to is the largest of these, yes, but there are others. One which he finds particularly irksome is this notion of ‘legal age’ and the fact that he is allowed in so few establishments that serve alcohol. It is not that Gavroche has any real desire to drink the spirits on offer, but these places are the best to learn things about the city and its inhabitants. Useful things, which will make Gavroche again King of the Streets.

There are a few places that he can go, he has found. Less savoury ones pay him little enough attention; a few even treating him as if he were an expected presence. These are his favourites, and after his classes with Combeferre he often makes a round of them all, charming the staff and listening to the patrons. He has a bowl of soup here, a serve of bread toasted with garlic butter at another – and rarely does he have to pay. It is, he thinks, as it should be.

When he arrives at his final stop of the afternoon, he finds a new face among those that sit at the bar. At least, newish, for the man is one he has seen before, at Porthos’ party. “Bonjour m’sieur,” he says as he clambers onto the stool, smiling when a bowl of nuts appears before him and a glass of what he now knows is coke. “Ah, this place is a good one, is it not?”

Comments

[somepoorsoul]

Athos’ nobility may run deep, but one would not know it by his choice of drinking establishments. Here, as in Paris, he favors tucked-away places that leave most of their customers in shadow and don’t encourage observation. And he has learned that the better appointed bars tend to look askance at the customer who orders before a certain time.

And so he is here, in a darkened tavern not far from his flat, in a bar whose name was once done up in lights that have blinked out, one by one. He’s drinking wine when the boy appears beside him, and automatically checks his pockets to assure himself his purse has not gone missing. Finding a child like this in a Paris watering hole would not be strange, but Athos has come to understand that here, children are not welcome in places like this.

He eyes the boy suspiciously and answers in French. “A good what?"