( Javert doesn't answer right away. It takes him a moment, staring into the fire with his hands clasped in front of him, lost in his usual reverie before he admits, dejectedly, )
It was during an undercover operation. I had been captured and the insurgents that held me prisoner had plans to kill me. That man, that convict, he showed up and asked them for my life. He said he wanted to blow my brains out himself, and I thought for certain that was what he was going to do.
( He sighs a bit and looks at her, his expression one of profound humility. )
He and I have a long history, you see. He was a convict in Toulon when I was a prison guard. But that is not how we got to know each another. That didn't happen until many years later, in Montreuil, when he was a successful businessman and I, a newly appointed police officer. He was going by a different name at the time, but I had always suspected his real identity.
He was appointed mayor around the same time I was named inspector. It was inevitable that we would work together, and we did, peacefully, for three years. One day, however, he overrode my authority in an arrest, and I was so enraged that I denounced him to the Prefect of Police in Paris. I revealed the mayor was a convict.
Ever since then, I have been nothing but cruel to him. When he escaped prison, I pursued him. I tormented him for months, and so you see, there is no good reason for him to have saved my life.
And yet! When he had me in his grasp, with a gun in his pocket and a knife in his hand, that is exactly what he did. He cut me free and let me go. Later that night, he surrendered himself to me, but I did not arrest him.
I had thought about it, but I could not. He is a good man, better than anyone I have ever known. I was blind to it before, back in Montreuil, but I know it now with certainty. I thought he was an irredeemable villain, incapable of change and self-betterment, but I was wrong.
( He stares back down at the ground, hands wringing together anxiously before tugging on his whiskers again. It isn't just Valjean that has changed. He, too, has changed. It never used to be this hard, he never used to be this soft. )
no subject
It was during an undercover operation. I had been captured and the insurgents that held me prisoner had plans to kill me. That man, that convict, he showed up and asked them for my life. He said he wanted to blow my brains out himself, and I thought for certain that was what he was going to do.
( He sighs a bit and looks at her, his expression one of profound humility. )
He and I have a long history, you see. He was a convict in Toulon when I was a prison guard. But that is not how we got to know each another. That didn't happen until many years later, in Montreuil, when he was a successful businessman and I, a newly appointed police officer. He was going by a different name at the time, but I had always suspected his real identity.
He was appointed mayor around the same time I was named inspector. It was inevitable that we would work together, and we did, peacefully, for three years. One day, however, he overrode my authority in an arrest, and I was so enraged that I denounced him to the Prefect of Police in Paris. I revealed the mayor was a convict.
Ever since then, I have been nothing but cruel to him. When he escaped prison, I pursued him. I tormented him for months, and so you see, there is no good reason for him to have saved my life.
And yet! When he had me in his grasp, with a gun in his pocket and a knife in his hand, that is exactly what he did. He cut me free and let me go. Later that night, he surrendered himself to me, but I did not arrest him.
I had thought about it, but I could not. He is a good man, better than anyone I have ever known. I was blind to it before, back in Montreuil, but I know it now with certainty. I thought he was an irredeemable villain, incapable of change and self-betterment, but I was wrong.
( He stares back down at the ground, hands wringing together anxiously before tugging on his whiskers again. It isn't just Valjean that has changed. He, too, has changed. It never used to be this hard, he never used to be this soft. )
I do not know how to do my job anymore.