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I
Marius Pontmercy took a deep breath, smoothing his hands over his freshly tailored black coat— a gift from the man he was meeting here today— to calm their shaking. As he’d entered the Ménagerie he had trailed his hand along the wooden railing of the bridge named after his love. He thought back then to the letter he had received earlier that week, the paper embossed with a stamp of a golden eagle.
“Mon beau,” it read, “I will meet you later this week at the Ménagerie du Jardin des plantes to show you the beauty of my conquests, although they could never compare to the wonder of your sweet face. Find me at the Cross of Honor built in my name. I await the touch of your hand once more…”
Marius Pontmercy had flushed at the remembrance of those words and the experiences they implied, hand tightening over the smooth hard wood of the railing. He was still shy at the thought that he was wanted, appreciated so much by such a great man.
Now, he could not keep such a wondrous man waiting, so he steeled his resolve and pointed his towards the Rotonde.
II
“Follow me, ducklings,” Gavroche declared imperiously to the small boys behind him. “We go today to see the greatest of beasts and marvel at how we are free and they are not.”
He strolled through the gardens, hands shoved in pockets and hips canted forwards. The two small boys followed eagerly, hand in hand. The older one watched Gavroche with awe while the younger one was delighted by the plant displays around them.
“Look at how tall the gardens are,” he whispered to his brother, “They’re taller than us!”
“They’re better cared for than you as well,” Gavroche commented over his shoulder. “And yet they’re free to all of us because of the grace of our betters.” Here Gavroche made a rude gesture at a statue of some Louis or other, causing some fine woman out for a stroll to gasp and wilt into her walking partner’s arms, much to said partner’s delight. “Still, not a bad place to find yourself when you’re in need of some drollity.”
Gavroche continued on brusquely, purposeful in his aim to show the mômes what they were missing. The older boy followed quickly, dragging his brother’s arm to keep up with the pace.
III
From the other side of the garden, Bahorel and Joly approached, conversing gaily.
“Of course,” Joly added to the conversation they’d been having since deciding to come to the Ménagerie, “The main goal of the Jardin is to better our understandings of the world!”
“Of course,” Bahorel agreed, “But if it can be used to satisfy the desires for beauty of the populace to ease their hearts, then that makes it doubly valuable.”
“Beauty, knowledge, all must exist together.”
“Let us not forget power, as the beasts here lie captive to the whims of Le Roi Poire.”
“Yes yes, much like the beasts captive outside the cages, thinking themselves free.”
They continued in sage silence for a brief time, occasionally passing a half empty bottle between them. The crowds passed at a faster pace than they were walking, parting around them like a stone in a river, ladies in fine dress and gentlemen in hats and canes and children sober by their parents’ sides or running ahead, laughing. This brightly colored jungle of people breathed like the lifeblood of Paris.
I
Marius Pontmercy drifted along as if in a have, barely seeing the crowd around him. His heart was quaking in his chest like a flower shaking under the weight and caress of a honeybee. He pressed a hand to it as if to steady it, picturing the hand of his beloved resting there instead and sighing as his lungs remembered how to breathe. Impatient, he hurried his steps, brushing past the trailing vines of flowers and scarcely noticing where they snagged against his coat, loosening threads. The Rotonde, resting place for the grey giants that so entranced the public, shaped like the medal of the Legion of Honor and uniting five structure into one grand building, rose before him.
Caught by the sudden reality of what he was doing here, Marius Pontmercy slowed his step and approached the building cautiously. Entering the halls of the great animals, he looked around with hushed awe at the magnificence of the construction, then froze as he caught sight of a small seal of a golden eagle on the other wall. He rushed to it, ripping the paper down from where it was affixed and opened it immediately, eyes drinking in the words on the page.
“Mon cœur,” it read, “I am sorry to delay our meeting but I can tarry here waiting for you no longer. I will leave a trail wherever I go, hoping to lead you to me. Please, come and seek me. I await you with an eagerness I can barely contain…”
Marius let out a soft wail, clutching the paper to his chest. He melted briefly to the floor, curling over his clenched hands on his knees. A probing trunk reached out to ruffle his hair and he looked up to stare into the soft brown eye of an elephant. They remained there for a moment, gazing at each other, until Marius rose, breaking eye contact and steeling himself for his new quest. He would not stop until he found his love.
II
“First,” Gavroche said, gesturing grandly, “We see before us a pheasant, a pompous bird full of more grain than ever gets spared on the likes of us. The H makes it better than us peasants, more worthy of care and feeding.”
The two boys regarded the view somberly as a drab colored bird quietly pecked around the pen.
“Is this the greatest of beasts that you promised?” the older one asked after a moment.
“Here,” Gavroche said, pressing pebbles into both the boys’ hands, “You have to make it exciting.”
He then chucked his own pebble so that it bounced off the side of the hutch in the center of the enclosure. As soon as the rock made contact with its sharp “crack,” a brightly colored bird came shrieking out, flapping its wings and posturing wildly, looking around for the intruder. The younger boy startled, clutching at his brother’s hand, but the older boy laughed along with Gavroche. The pheasant settled down after a moment, fluffing its plumage imperiously, stalking around the enclosure as if to satisfy its regal mind that its empire was at ease.
The older boy threw his pebble now, “tick”ing off the bird house again and sending the king of the walk squawking around the walls again. Reassured that the bird could not, in fact, come and retaliate to the teasing, the younger boy relaxed his hold on his brother and tossed his rock into the enclosure, giggling as the drab pheasant meandered over and started pecking on it.
“Is this why you brought us?” he asked, looking up at Gavroche.
“On the contrary, this is just the beginning! I have better things to show you, follow me.” Gavroche swept his arm in a broad arc as he turned and the boys disappeared around a corner just as a police officer ran up, fetched by a flustered looking man in an expensive looking bright colored tailcoat. Seeing the boys gone, he huffed disappointedly, crossing his arms. The pheasant rustled its brightly colored feathers and looked down its beak over its domain, satisfied that all was right once again.
III
“The majesty of these beasts is truly...majestic,” Joly said, looking up at the elephants in awe.
“They look as wise and aged as the masters of law that sit in their classrooms waiting for me to arrive and seek their knowledge,” Bahorel said, taking a drink from the bottle and passing it to Joly.
“They do that, and just as disgruntled at how they are shut up inside while young fools like us caper about in sunshine.”
Bahorel hummed in agreement, gazing up at the elephants musingly.
“I was reading the other day about the importance of sunshine and its impact on the human form,” Joly said after a brief pause.
“Did it say anything about the importance of sunshine and its impacts on the animal form?” Bahorel jested, but Joly considered it seriously.
“No, there was a concerning lack of outside evidence for that kind of thing.”
“Here we stand in a house of science,” Bahorel said, gesturing widely, “Why don’t we test this new theory here and now?”
“Perfect!” Joly exclaimed, “We shall further knowledge and free the chained spirits of these majestic creatures!”
Bahorel stuck out a hand to Joly and they shook on the idea, consecrating it with a splash of wine on the floor.
II
The two boys stood off to the side, watching the crowd clustered around the low wall surrounding a large pit in the ground and waiting for Gavroche to return. He came back bearing small stale cakes, having charmed a saleswoman of her wares on the other side of the pit.
“Here,” he said, handing each of the boys one, “This is your ticket to the next show.”
Gavroche squeezed his way through the crowd, offering a persuasive elbow or two to encourage someone expediently out of the way, the two boys following tightly behind. They made their way up to the wall and looked down into the pit where several large brown bears occupied the space.
“Hoy, Martin!” Gavroche hollered, leaning over the wall and waving the cake in his hand, then used his fingers to let out a piercing whistle. Most of the bears stayed minding their own business and ignoring the crowd shouting and whistling at them, but one bear perked up immediately and shuffled over to where the three boys were standing, standing up on his own hind legs when he reached them. Waving his arms back at them, Martin roared a greeting. Gavroche tossed him the cake in his hand and nodded to the boys to follow suit. Having collected the cakes, Martin found an unoccupied corner of the pit to have his meal in peace. This peace didn’t last long, however, and the smell of extra food brought his fellow bears over. Martin quickly ate them rather than sharing and the other bears dispersed restlessly, some turning to the crowds for attention– and food– as well.
Gavroche shook his head sadly.
“Poor creatures,” he said, “Trapped and watched with nowhere to escape.”
The two boys nodded somberly in agreement.
“Not us, though,” the smaller boy said, “We can run and follow you!”
Gavroche threw his head back and laughed, declaring, “So we can!” and running off into the crowd with a “Follow me!” tossed over his shoulder.
The two boys took off after him without a backwards glance.
I
After finding the first eagle in the Rotonde, Marius Pontmercy took up a frantic search across the Ménagerie. That first letter he found had another eagle stamped at the end of the letter, next to the signature, unlike the one he had been sent earlier. Taking this to be a clue, he rushed to the Volieren where the eagles dwelt and began searching. After several frantic minutes, he spotted another piece of white paper tucked carefully in the door of one of the cages. Pulling it out, he read it breathlessly, eyes racing across the page, only to find it acted only as another step in his quest and not the final key. Taking his leave from the Volieren quickly, he didn’t notice that his removal of the letter caused the door’s latch to unhook and swing open slightly.
This became Marius Pontmercy’s mode, consuming him in his quest. Nearly blind to his surroundings in his haste and focus to find the letters, he churlishly cut several people off, upsetting one fine couple's seat on a bench and sending them tumbling.
Finally, finally, he found the final letter. He knew it was the final letter because it said so, signed and embossed like all the others. As he pondered the meaning of its cryptic message, he wandered farther from the animals and closer to the rest of the Jardin itself.
A prickle at the back of Marius Pontmercy’s neck made him feel like he was being watched and he stopped, looking up and scanning his surroundings before his gaze halted on a lone man standing beneath a tree. The man was gazing back and raised a hand in greeting. Marius froze, hand pressed to his heart, before rushing to meet his Emperor, his love.
III
“Is it moving yet?” Bahorel hissed up at Joly as he held the other man up to fiddle with the lock on the large doors to one of the five sections of the Rotonde.
“Almost!” Joly hissed back, his tongue caught gently between his teeth in concentration. At last the lock gave out under pressure and clicked open. Joly threw up his hands in triumph, throwing both him and Bahorel off-balance. They collapsed in a heap despite Joly’s pinwheeling-arms effort to stay in the air, but the door was knocked slightly open by their impact as well. Bahorel pulled himself to his feet first, watching as the door was pushed open even wider as the giraffe came to investigate the commotion. She bent her head down for a closer look and they stared at each other, the mist that the wine had left on his brain clearing. Joly started to pull himself to his feet as well, complaining softly and favoring his leg, and Bahorel instinctively turned to help him. The moment broken, the giraffe pulled herself back up to her full height and ambled off, leaving the two men staring after her agape.
“Majestic…” Joly breathed, watching her go.
“Breathtaking,” Bahorel agreed.
They watched her for a moment more before turning to each other.
“So,” Joly said, “We let loose the rest of them now and bring back Nature’s Grace to the Jardin?”
Bahorel grinned.
“Let us share the liberté, egalité, and fraternité with these animals too.”
II
Gavroche hoisted himself up onto the wall beside where the other two boys were sitting, handing each of them a piece of the bread he had procured, taking the smallest piece for himself. They sat there a while, watching as the elephants meandered serenely across the lawns, stripping trees of foliage and eating it systematically like the boys and their bread up on the wall.
Gavroche nudged the other boys and pointed to where a bear had taken over a family’s picnic, demolishing what food there was left and curling up in the sun on the blanket.
“Just like us,” the younger boy commented, mouth full of food.
“Easily contented?” Gavroche asked and the boy smiled up at him, nodding.
“Ah,” his brother said, waving a hand, “That’s nothing. I’d be like him.”
He pointed to another bear, this one nosing around for a way out, having eaten his fill at another picnic basket.
“Smart,” Gavroche laughed, “Always looking for more because you don’t know when what you’ve got will run out.”
He plucked the last of the bread from the older boy’s hands, laughing at his protest and taking a bite before surrendering it back to him.
They sat there a little while longer, until someone noticed them and pointed up at them with a shout. At Gavroche’s direction, they all slipped down the other side of the wall and fled back into the streets of Paris again.
I
“Ponpon,” Napoléon murmured, caressing Marius’s cheek with one hand, “Mon cher lapin, I am so glad you found me. I have been waiting for you, hoping you would make your way to me before the sun set. I wanted you to watch it with me.”
He gestured to a place on the ground, covered by a soft blanket with a basket of food. Marius Pontmercy took his seat and Napoléon settled next to him, Marius nestling into the shelter of Napoléon’s arm.
“See how the sunset dapples the already dappled of la Belle Africaine, graceful in her height with all the majesty of the Southern Continent. How she reminds me of my victories there.”
The giraffe continued her slow amble across the slopes, ignoring any effort by her tenders to get her back in the enclosure, and Napoléon sighed, lost in memories. Marius touched his chest in comfort, bringing Napoléon back to himself and he looked down at Marius, smiling.
“Ah, but I must remember there are victories greater still left to me.”
“What greater victories could there be?” Marius asked looking up at Napoléon through his lashes.
“Why, victories such as making you blush so prettily when I compliment you,” Napoléon said, touching Marius’ face gently again as Marius blushed under the attention. “Making you smile the way you do just for me, and-” he pressed a soft kiss to Marius’ lips, “The victory of love over all.”
Marius smiled up at Napoléon and the two lovers kissed sweetly as the sun set and the giraffe looked on, impassive.