Les Amis Headcanons: People They Left Behind
notallthosewhowanderarelost–yet:
Enjolras: The baker’s assistant, named by his parents François but usually called “you,” “boy” or “dimwit,” lived for 8:05 sharp every morning, because that was when Enjolras would come to buy his breakfast, pay the baker, and then say “Good day, Citizen François” and make François feel like a person. Enjolras was the only one who ever did this.
Combeferre: One of his patients was an elderly woman who was an absolute shrew to everyone except Combeferre, who reminded her of her dead son. After the barricade fell she turned desperate and asked every day why Monsieur Combeferre never came anymore. Nobody had the heart to tell her.
Courfeyrac: For the last few years he had had a friend, a gamin named Nicolas. They had breakfast together on Sunday, and when the weather turned cold Courfeyrac gave Nicolas his old jackets. Nicolas died of frostbite in November 1832, at the age of 11. Draw your own conclusions.
Jean Prouvaire: He was teaching his landlady’s son to play the flute, an endeavor that seemed futile to everyone but the two of them. When the boy finally managed to produce a few sounds he wanted to show his teacher immediately, but his mother told him that Monsieur Prouvaire had gone to some General’s funeral and she didn’t know when he would be back.
Bahorel: For all he griped about law, he had become very close to one of the professors. They spent many happy hours talking about every topic under the sun, and the professor sometimes thought of Bahorel as the child he’d never had. When he heard about the barricades, he knew immediately that Bahorel was involved, and refused to read the names of the casualties when the battle was over. Because he knew.
Feuilly: He’d realized that the girl he’d been nursing a huge crush on actually felt the same way, and a romance started to develop. Every week he gave her a flower–which she dried and saved–and the night before he left for the barricade, they kissed for the first time. When the sun rose two days later, Feuilly had one kiss, Marie had thirty-seven flowers, and neither of those numbers would ever get any higher.
Bossuet: Over the years he had become friendly with one of the “regular” beggars, who always sat in the same spot beside a fountain. Every day Bossuet gave a him a few sous, plenty of schadenfreude and a sense of being something more than just another beggar on the streets of Paris. Then things changed, and it was back to only the birds for company.
Joly: After months of dithering and consulting with Bossuet, he decided that for Musichetta’s next birthday he would give her the gift of a marriage proposal. Musichetta’s birthday was June 8th.
Grantaire: His boxing partner looked forward to their weekly matches not only because he and Grantaire were great friends, but also because when they shook hands goodbye, Grantaire always slipped him some money. It wasn’t much to Grantaire, but the boxing partner was an underpaid workingman with a wife and six children, and that money sometimes meant food for the week.