Trusting Me The Way You Do: A Les Misérables Story

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by Randomcat100

Hi there, and welcome to my latest fanfiction. This is Trusting Me The Way You Do, a series of one-shots. It is about nothing more than father-daughter fluff about Valjean and Cosette in their first year of living together. Tagged to trigger warnings for mentions of child abuse. Also, in this story, note that they go directly to the house on Rue Plumet. They don't stay at the convent or at the Gorbeau tenement. I am aware that this is the canon – I have read the book as well as seen the musical both on screen and on stage. I suppose this fic is more musical-based. Enjoy!

For my own reference: 3rd fanfiction published, 2nd story for Les Misérables.

New cover image as of 12/08/14:
This new cover image features four screenshots (with a little bit of editing done by our friends on fanpop) of Hugh Jackman as Valjean and Isabelle Allen as young Cosette. The two on the left are taken from between The Well Scene and The Thénardier Waltz of Treachery, the one on the top right is taken from just after the Waltz of Treachery and the final features Valjean carrying her as they enter the convent. Also note French flag letter imagery.

Story 01: Job of a Papa

January 1, 1824

Today was a most special day, the very first of the year. But to Valjean it was even more than that. It was a new leaf, a fresh start for himself and his daughter.

Looking at her now, she looked so very much at peace. The thick blankets tucked protectively around her little body, Catherine resting under the crook of one arm. Her little chest rising and falling in rhythmic sleep. Blond hair splayed out over the pillow. In sleep, the only signs of her former wretched past was the remains of a black eye and a back marred with fading welts. She let out a small sigh before rolling over and resuming sleep. Valjean could scarcely believe she had only been with him for five days, as his heart was already gripped with a fierce, protective, fatherly love.

It was a Thursday today, so Valjean saw little reason to rouse her now. The pair had agreed she would begin her education the first Monday of the month, so there was no reason why she should be awakened now, when she was so at peace. He couldn't help but notice that this was the first night she had not woken in a sweat, her dreamland tormented and obscured with harsh memories, ones that slipped and seeped into her subconscious.

It was nearly noon when she was awake. She appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, her white nightgown floating about her ankles, as Valjean cut the baguette for breakfast. The tiny blonde rubbed sleepily at her eyes as she entered. "Good morning, Papa."

Valjean set down his knife, turned with a smile, and swept her up in a hug. "Oh, yes, indeed. Good morning, ma petite Cosette!"

Cosette offered him one of her smiles, one Valjean was thankful to see more and more often nowadays. She kissed him on the cheek. "Oh, are we having baguette this morning?"

"We are," Valjean confirmed, setting her back down with a nod.

His daughter rocked back and forth on her heels. "How splendid! Shall I set the table, Papa? Shall I clean it?" Already, she was making a move for the small cloth that hung in the corner.

Valjean stayed her hand. "It is not necessary. Now, I shall spread the butter and cheese. However, if you should like to help, would you draw some water from the well in the garden?"

Cosette looked up at him with wide blue eyes before offering a small nod and hurrying for her shawl. Valjean stared after her as she went. Silently, he spread the butter and cheese over the baguette and served it at the table just as Cosette entered the room again.

Breakfast was a silent affair. Valjean allowed Cosette to eat her baguette and some sliced apple. The tiny blonde did not even utter a word, her eyes fixed on the table.

At last, Valjean spoke up. "Cosette, we have spent much of our time here in the house since we arrived in Paris. I suppose you must be growing tired of it, and of not getting out."

Cosette looked up in surprise. "Oh, no, Papa. I could never tire of it here, it's all so very lovely. I've my own room, and a sitting room to play and sew in. I've a beautiful doll and I eat three meals a day. And I have you, Papa, for you are so very good to me."

Valjean smiled. "What of books? Once you learn how to do so, I'm certain you'll be wanting to read something for pleasure."

The little blonde blinked. "Read for pleasure, Papa? What sort of books could I read? Might I read the great books of fairy stories with beautiful illustrations? 'Ponine had one of those books and I always wished I could read it."

"You may have any books you wish, my darling," Valjean said soothingly. "Are you done your breakfast?"

An obedient little nod. "Oh, yes, Papa. Shall I go dress myself for our outing, then?"

"If you wish to."

Cosette rose and scurried off to her bedroom. Once she shut the door, she breathed a happy little sigh. She was ever so happy here, living her new life with Papa. On the first day, he had taken her to purchase an array of the most beautiful dresses she could imagine, ones that even 'Ponine would have envied. He did not ask her to do difficult tasks, nor had he struck her once. Papa spoke to her kindly. He kissed her and he tickled her and made her smile and laugh. He fed her good foods. He was her Papa.

From her small wardrobe, Cosette chose a most beautiful white gown, lined with lace at the hem and collar. The cuffs were etched in a pattern of little lavender blossoms. Cosette slipped off her nightgown and pulled the beautiful dress over her head. Pulled on a pair of white stockings. She caught sight of her reflection in the looking-glass and twirled in a circle. The girl in the mirror did not belong in such a beautiful dress, with her fading black eye and underfed, skinny body. Cosette reached for the ivory comb Papa had bought for her and ran it through her blond hair. As she did not yet know how to count past twenty, she estimated the one hundred strokes and inspected the results. A bit better. She placed a small silken bonnet on her head and gave another twirl.

Perhaps I look a little bit like a lady. Just a bit.

Another twirl, and Cosette desperately wished it to be so. She wished to look like a princess, a princess like in those fairy stories.

She picked Catherine up from the bed, admiring her gorgeous doll. "Do you think I could be a princess, Catherine?"

Her only reply was the blank stare from expertly painted, pale green eyes. With a sigh, Cosette set the doll back down on the bed and twirled one last time before exiting the room. She found Papa there, whistling a merry tune as he put on his coat and boots. "There you are, ma petite Cosette. Are you quite ready to go out?"

"Yes, Papa."

Papa handed her the warm shawl, her hat, her mittens. "You must dress warmly, it is frightfully cold outside. Though I must say you've no need for that bonnet. Why don't you leave it here? Let your hat protect you from the chill."

At once, Cosette untied the strings and placed her bonnet on the table. "Yes, Papa."

Valjean watched as his daughter tied her shawl, tucked her hat over her head, and pulled on her mittens. As she stepped into her boots. The man found it troubling, the way she did so. Her every movement with her shoulders hunched slightly, her head bowed, and her eyes averted, as if afraid to make any contact and to take up as little room as possible.

"You're ready?"

"Yes, Papa."

They went out the door and walked hand-in-hand down Rue Plumet, battling the bitter winds. They might earn the occasional odd stare, but mostly the citizens ignored them: after all, they were a regular little family, nothing especially noticeable. The pair looked neither poor nor rich. The only strange thing about them was that father and daughter did not resemble each other in the least.

Valjean pushed open the door to a small bookshop and nodded at Cosette to follow. After a slight hesitation, the eight-year-old set foot inside the shop.

"May I choose any book I like, Papa?" she asked nervously.

"But of course. Now, why don't we find the children's shelf, hmm?"

The children's area was located in the back of the store, two small shelves tucked in the corner with dolls and small wooden figures looking down at any children who might happen by.

Cosette looked at each book, turning it over in her small hands. Many of these books seemed far too difficult for her, and some did not even have illustrations. However, she was overjoyed when she saw a book in particular, lying on the small table. It was thick with a bright red, leather binding, and the cover featured a most lovely illustration of a princess and a knight. She opened the book, and was delighted to find it had small drawings in it, of dragons and knights and princes and princesses. Faeries and mermaids and nymphs. Centaurs. Every creature to be found in mythology was in these pages.

Tucking the book under her arm, Cosette went to find Papa, who was looking at medical books. She tugged at his coat and held the book up, searching for approval.

"Of course you may have this book if you like, ma petite," Valjean said. "Now, I believe I shall purchase this book for myself and we'll be on our way."

"Would you read it to me tonight?" the girl inquired hesitantly. "I could read them myself once I learn how. If it isn't too much trouble, Papa…."

"No trouble at all," Valjean reassured his small girl. Taking her hand, they bought both the book of fairy stories and the medical guide. Returning home, Valjean stopped suddenly as he realized he ought to buy tomorrow's bread. He told Cosette they must stop at the bakery quickly, if it was quite all right with her, before returning home.

"Of course it's just fine, Papa," Cosette frowned.

Ten minutes later, Valjean was exiting the bakery laden down with two loaves of baguette and a small roll of cheese, when he noticed Cosette was not following him. Frowning, he turned to find her standing before the window of the baker's. Her fingers and nose pressed against the glass, she stared at the small display, with its beautiful pastries and sweets. Approaching her, he noted the way her eyes lingered on the small chocolate truffles, the chocolat petit fours.

"Cosette?"

The startled child turned around, her eyes wide. "Oh – Papa, forgive me."

"Cosette, would you like a chocolate?"

Her head shook vigorously. "No, no, Papa. I was simply…" Her voice trailed off, the blue eyes slid nervously back to the chocolate truffles. "I never had one before," she admitted in a small voice.

Cosette did not want to trouble Papa. She did not know if he was a wealthy man or not, but he had done so much for her already. She feared that if she continued to badger him for silly little things, like these chocolates, he would grow angry and turn her out. Send her back to Montfermeil.

And so she was very surprised when Papa entered the shop and bought two small chocolates. He handed her the small paper bag. "Why don't you eat one now, as we walk, and the other for dessert?"

Cosette's mouth fell open in a gape. "Oh, may I, Papa?"

"You may have anything you wish." Taking her hand, they resumed walking home.

Valjean was thinking of what, precisely, he might make for dinner, when Cosette spoke to him softly. "Papa?"

"Yes?"

"Did you mean what you said, when you told me I might have anything I wished?"

Valjean turned onto Rue Plumet. "Of course. Why ever not?"

"Well, I never had anything I wanted in Montfermeil. No toys, no pretty clothes and dresses, no desserts or chocolates. And you didn't buy yourself a chocolate, either. I was just wondering if you're quite certain I shouldn't do anything in exchange."

Valjean pushed open the gate. They passed through the garden, into the house. It was not until Valjean had removed his coat and hung it up that he answered her. "Cosette, we are a family, are we not?"

"Of course, Papa."

"Then that is what Papas are for. It is the job of a Papa to spoil his children. I understand that coming to live with me is a great change for you, but I most certainly do not expect you to do any work. You must live as any child does. You must play and learn. It is not the job of a child to do work."

"Yes, Papa," Cosette murmured. "But Papa, while it is a change, I could not be any happier."