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Amazed (Pontmercy): March, 1832
Marius had witnessed the unexpected termination of the ambush upon whose track he had set Javert; but Javert had no sooner quitted the building, bearing off his prisoners in three hackney-coaches, than Marius also glided out of the house. It was only nine o'clock in the evening. Marius betook himself to Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac was no longer the imperturbable inhabitant of the Latin Quarter, he had gone to live in the Rue de la Verrerie "for political reasons"; this quarter was one where, at that epoch, insurrection liked to install itself. Marius said to Courfeyrac: "I have come to sleep with you." Courfeyrac dragged a mattress off his bed, which was furnished with two, spread it out on the floor, and said: "There." I had nowhere else to go if I was not going to throw myself on my grandfather's dubious mercies, but I had forgotten to wonder whether Aimery already had a roommate. They argued when Daniel arrived at home, while I pretended to be passionately interested in a newspaper I had borrowed from Aimery. They shut themselves in the bedroom, leaving me in the outer chamber, and kept their voices down as best they could, although I could hear the edge in Daniel's voice. Perhaps half an hour later, Aimery came out again, kissed me on the cheek, and put his hat on. "Don't worry, it'll be all right. He's asleep," with a glance at the door to the bedroom. "I'll be back soon." "All right." He went out and did not return before I had fallen asleep, trying not to think about Daniel in the next room and our tumultuous history. It was years ago, after all, and now he clearly had someone else, and the sweet girl of the Jardin du Luxembourg inhabited my thoughts. The next evening, they led me off to dinner with their friends, Aimery taking my arm as if his lover was not watching, or as if he thought I would get lost otherwise. Aimery ordered me to sit at his table, though he was up and about quite a lot, talking now with one, now with another. He seemed to be passing gossip that amused Prouvaire and Bahorel, and made Enjolras' cheeks go pale, although he apparently accepted the truth of whatever it was when Combeferre added to Aimery's tale. I assumed that they could not be speaking of me; I had done nothing worthy of comment but fall in love, and I would be damned before I told Aimery about the girl whose face and form haunted me. Fortunately, whatever the gossip was, they finished sharing it in due time and Enjolras was able to share the latest political developments with the group, which included many men whose faces I did not know. I had learned enough from the newspaper I'd read the previous night to make a few salient contributions, which was unusual for me in such company. I almost laughed at myself and my apparent revolutionary sympathies until I remembered my most recent change of address and realized that I had indeed plunged myself into the heart of oncoming change, and that I might as well make the best of my alliances while I could, if the men of this café would accept me and forget my earlier stances on such matters. At the end of the evening, Daniel smiled at me. For a moment, I remembered what it had been to love him, gentle and kind, generous to a fault, but I shook my head a little and thought of my elusive nymph. She was more lovely, surely more pure of heart, and it would dishonor her to allow myself to be distracted by this man. Still, when he walked beside me on our way home, so close that our shoulders brushed from time to time, I could hardly think solely of her. We had gone home before Aimery, although I could not have said why. There was always a muddle at the door when such a meeting dispersed, but I would have thought that Daniel would wait for him. Instead, when we stepped inside the room made cluttered and close by the mattress Aimery had lent me, Daniel kissed me. I backed away from him as best I could without tripping over the furniture. "You can't have meant that." "Can't I, Marius?" He tilted his head to one side a little and smiled at me. "It may not be quite what you think." "Aimery will be here any moment," I warned him. "I know." He offered me a hand, palm up. "I'm not going to -- I mean, this isn't a betrayal of Aimery." "How can it be anything else?" I felt dizzy. I thought he was strong, I thought he had forgotten me utterly, and it seemed that everything I had thought was wrong. "Among our Friends," Daniel explained, touching my shoulder gently, "there is a certain ritual by which one proclaims his allegiance to the cause, and to the others." "I'm not one of you." "Not properly," he agreed. "Not yet. But you've flung yourself into the middle of things, and surely you must be aware of the growing tensions in the city." I frowned. I was not exactly aware, as I had had my own troubles without worrying about the country's. "What do you mean, not yet?" "You've fallen back into this at a rather complex juncture. If you're going to stay -- here, or among the men we met with tonight -- we must know that we can trust you." That cut more deeply than I was prepared to feel. "Daniel." I put a hand on his shoulder. "You must know I never meant to hurt you. I was desperate, and I loved you, but I've changed since then. I've met the most beautiful girl -- I -- I would do nothing that would hurt you, ever again." He blinked, then shook his head. "I'm sure you've changed a great deal. It's been a long time. But I was not speaking merely of myself, but of the members of the society." I sighed, wondering what slights I had committed against them, whomever their membership should include. I was not certain that I valued these men as friends enough to submit to confession of my sins or whatever sacrilegious penance they would prescribe, but if my staying in my present begged lodgings was contingent on such a membership, it was necessary. "How does one prove himself worthy?" Daniel kissed me lightly, startling me. "It has to do with certain intimacies." He embraced me and I settled into his arms, hungry in some part of me for comfort and friendship although what he spoke of seemed deeper than that and more complex. "We usually -- ah -- do this more privately, but there is very little time, by all accounts." "What do you mean?" He kissed me again with all the familiarity of a former lover. I had been longing for the girl whose name I could not even guess. Daniel offered me comfort of a sort I had not had in a long while, and I did not have the power to refuse him even when I knew that his lover would arrive any moment. But he stopped kissing me after I began to tremble a little, when he must have known that I could not think clearly, and he said, "Dear Marius. All you need to do is share a part of yourself with them." I blinked, trying to clear my head to understand what he meant. "What?" "Let us do this," he entreated me in a whisper as he untied my cravat. "Wait." I put a hand on his wrist. "What do you mean?" His cheeks were red, and from the way he avoided my eyes I assumed it was embarrassment as much as any other emotion. "It requires an exchange of pleasure." "If you're sure Aimery won't mind --" I could feel my knees shaking a little at the prospect. "Not only with me." He kissed my cheek. "With -- each of them." I choked, and when I spoke my voice was unwontedly soprano. "With whom, precisely?" "God," he said, a soft but heartfelt oath. "With myself. And Aimery. And -- Prouvaire, and Combeferre, and Enjolras, and -- Bossuet, and Joly," and then, more softly, as though he did not want me to hear, "and Bahorel." "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph." I staggered back, unable to stand alone and equally unable to accept his embrace for a moment longer. "No, not them," and he had the audacity to smile at me for a moment before he looked contrite. "I'm sorry, Marius." "What on earth do they want from me? Why me?" I was not handsome by any measure, and to find that a legion of my acquaintances harbored a secret passion for me was both flattering and starkly terrifying. "Because you want to join this brotherhood." Daniel sighed. "This is how it is done." "But -- why me?" "It's nothing to do with you particularly," he said, somewhat impatiently. "It has to do with what you want as much as what anyone would want of you." "But --" "I told you. It is the rule of the society." He shrugged. "If you would rather not --" I covered my eyes with one hand. "And you say that they would trust me, afterward?" "Implicitly." "A -- brotherhood." I bit my lip. "I have never had a brother." "You would have eight." He put a hand on my shoulder, and I did not shy away. "Eight?" I blinked. "Eight men. Why do you propose this to me?" Daniel kissed me again, weakening my resolve and my balance. "Because you can bear it without disgust." He unbuttoned my collar. "We know that much of you." I blushed. "You did not tell them." "Aimery asked, and I could not lie to him." "Aimery." I felt my cheeks turn a brighter red. "And Jehan." I buried my face in his shoulder. "My God. Don't you keep any secrets?" "We don't lie to one another, even by omission." He ran his fingers through my hair. "Do you wish to do this?" "To -- allow that?" My stomach turned over at the thought. I tried to ignore my own desire for contact with someone, anyone. I loved Ursula -- not Ursula -- the most beautiful girl in the world. I loved her deeply, and yet -- "It is a trifle. Do you wish to be a part of this brotherhood?" I clenched one of my hands into a fist and hoped that the pain of the nails digging into my palm would clear my head a little. "Yes," I said after a minute's consideration. Friendship, loyalty, truth -- what could be wrong in these things? Daniel kissed me again. "Then it will be so. But -- but because we don't know how long it will be before all men are needed -- it might be tomorrow, or the next day --" He coughed. "They'll be here soon." "They?" I stared at him. "All of them." "All -- oh, God. You must be joking." The thought of suffering each of their company separately had been uncomfortable enough but to undergo it in an overcrowded rush would be unconscionable. "If only I was." He kissed me again, tangling his fingers in my hair, and I could feel his effort to keep me off-balance in the urgency of the kiss. "It may be easier this way." "I doubt it." "We'll see." He took my hand. "Come to bed, Marius?" It was not an invitation I could refuse, even in full knowledge that I followed him into his lover's bedroom. There was another spare mattress on the floor there, optimistically waiting for my verdict, and a covered frame hung on the wall, concealing either an extravagant mirror or a painting. The bed had been restored to its former luxury. Daniel tugged me in that direction, his fingers busy on the buttons of my waistcoat, pausing every now and then to kiss me or caress me. He kept me so incapacitated that I could not return the favors beyond giving him breathless kisses. Before long, he had my shirt and my waistcoat hanging open and he ran his hand down my chest. "Then again," he commented dryly, as though we had continued talking the whole time, "you are beautiful." "I'm not," I objected, but he forestalled any further protestation on my part by unbuttoning my pants. "We ought to put your clothes with the rest of your things so that you can find them in the morning." Whatever he had to say at the time was probably better advice than I could think of, so I let him take off my shoes, socks, and pants. When he carried them into the next room and left me alone, the dizziness faded enough that I could get under the covers. I had no desire to be discovered lounging nude on Aimery's counterpane, especially not if it should transpire that Daniel was telling me an elaborate lie. The outer door opened and I hid under the covers, all too aware of my nudity. I had not been thinking clearly when I consented to participate in madness, but with the possibility of someone else to bear witness to my folly I was hideously embarrassed. Whomever it was spoke quietly with Daniel before laughing -- and when they laughed, I could hear at least three voices, none of them Daniel's. I covered my eyes, wishing I were anywhere but there. Daniel came into the room before he allowed the others in -- I could hear them discussing it, and surely that was Jean's voice -- and he sat on the edge of the bed. "Marius," Daniel said, tugging on the covers. "You can stop this at any time." I looked up at him, and he bent to kiss me. "But Daniel --" He shrugged. "You can. No one will do anything you don't want." "They're here." He looked toward the door. "They can leave." I covered my face with my hands. "But you'll turn me out." "It's not for me to say." He tousled my hair. "But -- Aimery might, and they might send you away from the meetings if I told them about the letters." "Damn it." I embraced him and kissed him fiercely, trying to convince myself that I wanted this from him. "It's all right," he said breathlessly, running a hand across my shoulders. "Calm down, Marius." And he spoke the words of the vow to me, words of brotherhood and truth and support. Between sentences, he kissed me, but beyond that he did little to add to my state of confusion. I realized why at the end of this recital, when he asked me to say them back to him. I did, faltering a little, but he prompted me, and when I had finished he kissed me again, then turned away and said, "Jehan?" It was not only Jean but also Bossuet. Joly hesitated in the doorway while the first two came over to the bed, and then went into the other room with Daniel and closed the door. Jean kissed me and got into bed next to me as if we had been lovers for years, kicking off his shoes. "Good evening, Marius," he said to me, and without further preamble he embraced me. Bossuet slid into bed on my other side and put his arm around me, running his fingers down my side. Jean laughed. "How lovely to be keeping company with you again." He ran his fingers through my hair. "Help me out of my shirt, would you, Marius? I'm sure you'll find it easier than stays." I blushed fiercely at this and would have pushed him away if we had been alone. I had never wanted him, never really wanted the girl he pretended to be, I knew that now. Surely I had only gone with her -- with him -- because she resembled my Mam'selle Lanoire to some degree, and I had had some inkling at the time that she would become an angel. But this was Jean without artifice, without skirts, and I was expected to make love to him. He had asked it of me before and visited me a handful of times, but that was only Jehan, without an onlooker, and that had been easier, almost maddening in its intensity. I did not know how this could be the same. I helped him undress, although as I did it Bossuet took advantage of my absorption in the task to caress and distract me every other moment. While Jean wriggled out of his pants, Bossuet encouraged me to turn and face him. When I did, he kissed me, pulling me into a tight embrace. At last he let me breathe, and he laughed, tousling my hair. "Beautiful Pontmercy. It was good luck that made our paths cross." "Mine, indeed," I said with some chagrin and kissed him again, mindful of the debt I owed him that I had never been able to repay. If he would only accept this instead then perhaps my conscience could be clean. I helped him undress as well, though Jean was more insistently distracting than he had been and I often had to bite my lip as his gentle fingers explored my body so that I could continue thinking at all. Naked, Bossuet kissed me, then sat up enough to touch Jean's shoulder and draw him into a brief embrace before they both looked at me. I could feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment at being caught between two friends with four hands busy at teasing me. I could do little but gasp at these attentions and cling to their shoulders, their forearms, anything I could reach without opening my eyes so that I would have to see them. It was better to be blind, I decided, than to be so embarrassed that I would have to push them away. I hardly knew which of them kissed me from moment to moment -- was it Bossuet who had a mustache, or Jean? -- and I barely cared whose hand was on my chest, who had traced a wet line up my thigh with what must have been his tongue, which of them I embraced and kissed to muffle my cries as I was overcome. I lay between them, filled with lassitude and gratitude. Bossuet ran his fingers through my hair and spoke the words of the required vow to me. I said them back to him, and then to Jean, as if the repetition would make it stronger. Jean kissed my cheek and chuckled at me before he repeated it. He reached past me and squeezed Bossuet's hand. "Perhaps we ought to make room, cher." I frowned. "I thought --" "What, Marius?" "I thought I was supposed to -- to, you know." And despite what they had done for me, or perhaps because of it, I blushed. Jean laughed again. "Perhaps some other time, brother. You have a long night ahead, and the rules are different tonight. Besides," he said, and grinned at Bossuet, "we can take care of one another." "Oh." I lay back against the pillow, and watched them go. As soon as they were both out of bed, they embraced. Bossuet laughed and said, "Let me put my shirt on, and my pants." "I'll only help you out of them again in a minute," Jean said, but they both got half-dressed before they opened the door. "And we'll probably want this out there, more than in here." He tugged at the corner of the mattress on the floor. Bossuet helped him carry it into the other room. Joly came in a moment after they left, looking uncomfortable. I had pulled the covers up to my chin, and I was not in the least sure that I could be properly appreciative of any further overtures quite yet. He seemed to recognize this, for without entirely looking me in the eye, he sat on the bed, kissed my cheek, and said the words that the other three had said. I repeated them back to him, and when I would have used his surname, he corrected me gently with, "Chrétien. Brother." He kissed me at length, sealing the vow, then stood and gave me a little bow. "Thank you, Chrétien," I said as he started for the door. "You're welcome." He opened it and said at once, "Hello, Théo -- oh -- oh. Did you mean -- oh. All right." Before I could make any sense of this, Enjolras and Combeferre came into the room. Of all of the men present, these were the ones who most made me feel as though I knew nothing, as though my beliefs were straw in the wind, and as though even if I tried I could not accomplish anything worth having. Combeferre had an air of wisdom beyond his years, of patience and generosity that I could never hope to equal, but he at least was kind to those with whom he disagreed. Everything about Enjolras spoke of severity: his appearance, his plain clothing, his speech, his manner of walking, his rhetoric. How two so different men had found something of value in each other was beyond my comprehension; why either of them would choose to befriend me -- let alone this -- did not bear contemplation, as I was certain I would never discover the truth. And yet they were not what I expected them to be, not entirely. Combeferre rubbed my back as if to calm me, a welcome gesture as any I'd seen yet that day, but Enjolras kissed me before I had a chance to ask whether he wanted to or not. The kiss, at least, seemed like the man I knew: forceful, direct, and possessed of a certain grace that few could imitate. He guided my hand to his collar and encouraged me to help him out of his clothes with the same strength of character that carried him in front of crowds to speak sedition. It was not the confused, blind whirlwind that Bossuet and Jean had inflicted upon me. Enjolras said nothing, but he guided my hand as clearly as if he had asked me to please him. I did not know how the rules of the madness that had caught me up defined my responsibilities, but it was easy enough to caress him and kiss him. He was strikingly beautiful from a distance; so close, he seemed nearly too perfectly aesthetically pleasing to be real. But he was real, for even as I touched him he returned the favor, and all the while Combeferre, perhaps afraid that such close quarters would make me uncomfortable, rubbed one of my shoulders gently and murmured soft phrases that I could not concentrate well enough to understand. Enjolras writhed in my arms, his mouth pressed to mine as if he would not be able to breathe otherwise. He caught his breath and opened his eyes, smiling a little at me, and as he spoke the words of the vow, Combeferre put an arm around me and finished what Enjolras had begun, making my breath catch. Near the end I had to cover my face, for I could not bear to be so vulnerable in front of two such men. While I recovered, Combeferre said the words that theoretically embodied what they had done to me, and I said them back -- I could do it, by then, without faltering, though they both corrected me when I went to say their names and asked me to use their Christian names. I had heard others, perhaps Aimery, say "Audric" and "Julien" to them in the past, but it would never have seemed proper to me to take such a liberty. I told myself that that was before we were sworn brothers. They took leave of me with a kiss and Combeferre -- Audric -- helped Enjolras dress again before they left. I fell into a doze. By the time I woke again, someone else was in bed with me. It took me a moment to realize who it was, for he had embraced me as tenderly as one could wish and he was doing his best, despite my exhaustion, to arouse my desire. I made some wordless noise and he sat up to find out whether I was awake or not. "Bahorel," I said, wanting to shy away from him, for nothing about him has ever charmed me. He kissed me, ignoring my startled reaction, and corrected me with, "Christophe, mon frère." "Brother --" I repeated, and interrupted myself with a yawn. "We've been cruel to you," he said softly, and kissed me again. "No one has." I turned to embrace him, for the warmth of his body was as comforting as the feel of the pillow under my head, and I was very tired. He chuckled. "I didn't mean it literally. You must be exhausted." I could only agree, nodding against his shoulder. "This is overwhelming." "I shan't ask you to exert yourself overmuch, then," he said solicitously. "Turn onto your stomach and let me rub your back?" I did, and found that his hands were strong and relaxing, skilled at convincing my muscles to relax. I could have fallen asleep again like that, blissfully forgetting who was manipulating my body so well, if he had not let his hands slide lower, and even then I thought he was only massaging my thighs until he pressed a finger against a place that needed no relaxation at all. I turned onto my side. "What was that?" He shook his head. "Relax, brother." "No." I sat up a little. "What were you doing?" He kissed me until I could hardly breathe. "Nothing that you'll find unpleasant, if you'll only let me begin properly." "Oh, God." I could not think, or I would have realized how improbable it was that he made my blood pound in my ears, that even after the earlier exertions I could nearly have articulated a request for something more from him, if only I knew what it was I wanted in any clear sense. Words escaped my grasp. I could only signal my consent to what he offered, whatever it was, by resuming my earlier prone position and burying my face in the down pillow again. "You're beautiful, Marius," he said softly as he resumed what he had been doing. I would have protested, but it seemed as though that would require too much effort. When he paused, I sighed and reached for his hand, but he chuckled and stayed well out of reach. "In a moment, cher," and a moment later he began again with the oddest sensation I could remember feeling. I was on the verge of asking him to stop when the strangeness changed into an intense pleasure which brought my head out of the pillow. "What on earth?" He rubbed my shoulders. "It's all right." "More than," I agreed, lest he stop, "but what was that?" "Only this," and the sensation was back, taking my breath away. "God in Heaven," I said when I could say anything again, and he laughed softly. "Beautiful. Will you let me do this, then?" I had only a vague memory what was meant by "this," and yet I could not deny him. "Yes. Please." He embraced me and kissed the back of my neck. "Relax, brother." I yawned again. "I'm relaxed." "Are you sure?" He trailed his fingers down my back and made me shiver. "Christophe," I objected, and was a little proud of myself for remembering his name. "That tickles." "I didn't mean to tickle." He rubbed my back. "Better?" "Yes. Thank you." "I never meant to make you uncomfortable," he murmured into my ear. The low pitch of his voice made me shiver. "You haven't. You didn't. It's all right." I pushed myself off the bed a little so that I could feel his skin against my back. He kissed my shoulder. "Good." Again, my breath caught as he caressed me, and then he shifted a little and captured my earlobe between his teeth. "Cher." "God." There were no words left in my mind but that. "Lovely Marius." Christophe kissed my neck again, and moved a little. I could not think or breathe for a timeless interval. When it seemed that my heart had begun beating again, there was pain, and there was pleasure, and more than that there was Christophe, breathing soft compliments in my ear and entreating me to relax, relax, relax. I took a deep breath and was barely conscious that I let it out in a moan. He asked me to "Sit up a little," but I did not know how to move until he let me go and put an arm around my chest. Then I knew what he meant, and I could settle back onto my knees, into his embrace. He nuzzled my ear again with another order to relax, and I tried, breathing deeply, although it caught as he pulled me closer. I could think nothing and say nothing but his name, over and over. He had one arm around my chest as if I would fall if he let me go, and with his other hand he caressed me. I forgot who he was even as I called his name, even as I forgot my own name for a long moment, forgot everything but pleasure. When I came to myself again, Christophe had settled beside me with an arm around me. "Oh," I said, for want of words. "Are you all right?" He grinned at me with such wicked glee that I blushed. "I think so." "Oh, good." He tousled my hair. "Pretty boy. We never did say the words, you know." "Oh." I yawned. "I can't remember." "That good?" He kissed me lightly. "I never really learned them." I avoided looking at him. "Well, all right. Just repeat, then," and so he led me through it, although I yawned prodigiously from moment to moment. As soon as we had sworn, he kissed me for a long moment, then got out of bed. "Good evening, Marius." It was suddenly cold without his presence. "What?" "I'm going home. I doubt there's room for four in that bed." "Not if one of them is you," Aimery said. I jumped a little and would have sat up in startlement if I had had the energy. He considerately moved so that I could see him. As with the rest of his fellows that evening, he wore only a shirt and a pair of pants, and his shirt was untucked. I had no idea how long he had been in the room. Christophe kissed him at length. "Good night, Aimé." "Good night, Chris." Aimery handed him his shirt. "Thank you." I hid my face, as though it would be more intimate to watch him dressing than to have him make love to me. Aimery sat on the bed next to me and offered me a handkerchief, which I accepted although I was horribly embarrassed. Everything that had happened -- and in his bed, when he had so considerately given me a place to sleep! What if he objected to it, to my shameful behavior, for such it seemed with the haze of pleasure fading from my mind. When Christophe had left, I said, "I'm sorry, Aimery." "What?" He touched my cheek. "I can barely hear you." I sat up enough to talk to him. "I said, I'm sorry. I -- do you have any idea how sorry I am, all of this, if it had been somewhere else, if I had only thought better of it, I'm sorry." "Marius, Marius." He shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous, mon ami. It's all right. You can promise me in the morning." I rubbed my eyes, barely understanding anything he said. "Promise you what?" He kissed me with great focus and awareness of my response, which was to sigh and embrace him as though he were about to flee. He grinned at me afterward." Promise you'll be a good brother to me, of course. And Daniel, too. You owe us that much." "Oh." I thought a moment. "I promised Daniel already." "But you hardly touched him." He kissed my cheek. "It's traditional, you see." "I hardly -- most of them --" The prospect of going through this ordeal twice was more than I could bear. "They haven't time to spare," Aimery said with a wave of his hand. "Tomorrow is Daniel's day off." "Oh." I yawned. "If he wants." "We'll ask. Move over a bit, would you?" I edged sideways. He left the room for a minute and returned with Daniel, clad only in a shirt and with his hair rumpled. "We've been borrowing your bed," Aimery said with a smile. "No, I've been borrowing yours." I yawned. "Two of them," Daniel said, and got into bed. "Sorry." I could feel myself falling asleep by the moment. Daniel kissed my cheek. "Go to sleep, Marius." I needed no further instruction. (Continued in Amazed, Part II)
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