Chapter Text
In the mountain range known as the Pyrenees, running along the border of France and Spain, a small sleuth of bears lived peacefully, away from civilization. Although these bears were mainly brown, among them was a single black bear. This black bear had a name that would be difficult to translate from the roaring language that bears speak to one another, so for the sake of the story, he shall simply be known as Dis Bear.
Dis Bear was different from most bears in that he was unable to be properly frightening, catch fish, or breed. The population in the mountains was dwindling and it was more important than ever that each bear in the sleuth not be socially awkward. Unfortunately, Dis Bear made everyone incredibly uncomfortable.
For as long as he could remember, he had an incurable crush on a female bear of the same group known as Fleur. He constantly tried to flirt with her, but to no avail. Fleur was one of the few female bears in the group and so every male bear was all about her.
The leader of the sleuth, Meneur, awoke from the cave and went down to the river, catching a few fish with his eyes closed. Dis Bear stared in awe, wishing he had some sort of talent. His only talents were avoiding eye contact and messing up his roars.
Meneur walked over to Dis Bear and threw a fish at his face.
“Deliver this,” he roared in bear-language. “And find a mate before winter.”
Dis Bear realized that the other bears were probably gossiping about his inability to contribute anything useful to the sleuth, and decided that today he would attempt to talk with Fleur.
Fleur was busy decorating her fur with flowers. Her chocolate mane was radiant in the morning sun and Dis Bear felt unworthy in her presence. He began to blush and was grateful that he had black fur completely covering his face.
“Uh,” Dis Bear roared, getting Fleur’s attention. She rolled her eyes when she saw him, reminding him that she had absolutely no interest in being courted. Still, he had to try.
“Be my girlfriend,” Dis Bear roared in an incredibly unsubtle manner.
Fleur looked appalled at the request and quickly shook her head.
“No, you’re gross,” she roared, and walked off with a fish in her mouth and flowers in her fur.
Dis Bear allowed a single tear to fall.
Later that night, Dis Bear approached Meneur and explained the situation. All the other female bears had mates, and Fleur expressed that she would rather drown herself in the icy river than have Dis Bear as a boyfriend.
“Dis Bear,” Meneur growled angrily, “you have failed the sleuth. Go from here.”
“But where?” Dis Bear said. He had severe social anxiety and hated speaking with strangers. Also, he knew no other world beyond the Pyrenees.
“You must go on a journey to prove that you are worthy of us,” Meneur explained. “Follow the river, and then go north. Come back when you are prepared to take on some responsibility.”
Dis Bear had no choice. He bid farewell to all his bear friends. They wished him good luck in sad roars indicating that they really didn’t think he stood a chance in the outside world, and presumably wouldn’t see him again.
Dis Bear had no possessions and only brought along a few fish for the journey, since he was absolute shit at hunting.
The journey was long and hard. Every time Dis Bear came across another creature in the forest, he had to quickly hide or pretend to be busy with some task. Since Dis Bear was infamous for accomplishing tasks indiscreetly, several times the creatures would come over and ask if he was all right. Dis Bear just roared at them, scaring them away.
At least he was finally decent at being scary, he acknowledged.
Finally, he recognized that the forest was becoming thinner, and he could hear carriages going by and people talking in foreign languages. He became frightened, and fell asleep under a tree, hoping that when he awoke, he would be happy beside Fleur.
“Are you sure this is the way?” a voice tore through the silence, awaking Dis Bear. It was pitch black outside and it took a moment before his eyes adjusted. A couple feet away, he saw three figures standing, looking incredibly lost and confused. He hoped that they wouldn’t notice him, since his fur was jet black and blended into the night.
“Of course I’m sure,” another voice slurred.
“You’re sure you live in the woods?”
“Let’s just go back,” a third voice answered, worried. “I hate being in the woods. The last time I was here a tick bit me and I contracted Lyme disease.”
“You’ve never once had Lyme disease, Joly,” the first voice answered, laughing.
Dis Bear had no idea what the hell they were on about, and wished they’d leave. He wanted to avoid the inevitable encounter with the species known as “humans.”
Thankfully, Dis Bear’s sleuth was very old and wise and studied many languages. Dis Bear could understand French, English, and Spanish, which helped in this instance, though it didn’t make the scenario any clearer.
What Dis Bear did understand, however, was that the voices were getting closer.
“I must have made a wrong turn,” the second voice slurred. Dis Bear noticed that the person in question seemed to be stumbling around quite a bit. “Are we not on the Rue Soufflot?”
“Grantaire!” the first voice shouted, bringing his hands up to his face exasperatedly. “We’re in the fucking woods!”
“Oh,” Grantaire said, looking around as if seeing for the first time. Dis Bear realized that Grantaire was only about a foot away from him and twitched slightly in fear. The twitch, however small, was enough to attract Grantaire’s attention.
They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment – Dis Bear in fear, Grantaire in drunken disbelief – before Grantaire shouted,
“A bear!”
“Enough, Grantaire,” Joly said, brushing his arms off as though he had ticks all over him, “let’s just go ba—” Joly was interrupted as he caught sight of Dis Bear and let out a wild scream.
“What on earth?” the first voice said, approaching.
“Bossuet, run!” Joly screamed, his voice reaching an incredible octave. He grabbed onto Bossuet’s arm and ran from the woods in a flash, dragging a stumbling Bossuet behind him.
Grantaire, however, had yet to move, making Dis Bear incredibly uncomfortable. He held a bottle in his hands and took a sip. Only then did he seem to notice that Joly and Bossuet had disappeared.
“Wow,” Grantaire remarked, looking to where his friends had run off, “I’m really drunk.”
Much to Dis Bear’s surprise and chagrin, Grantaire took a seat on the forest floor, showing absolutely no sign of leaving.
“Have you ever been in love, Monsieur Bear?” Grantaire asked in a forlorn voice, probably assuming that Dis Bear could not understand him.
Because Grantaire didn’t seem threatening, but rather heartsick, Dis Bear nodded.
Grantaire looked incredulous for a moment, as though unsure whether or not the bear was nodding in reaction to his question or merely twitching.
Dis Bear made a motion with his arm, hoping to indicate that Grantaire should go on.
“I’m hopelessly in love,” Grantaire continued, shaking his head, “with someone who despises me. Enjolras said, ‘Grantaire, you are too drunk to be of any use to us. Just leave.’”
Grantaire paused for a moment, taking a long drink from his bottle, and seeming on the verge of tears.
Dis Bear let out what he hoped was a reassuring roar, causing Grantaire to jump into the air and move away cautiously, wiping tears on his sleeve and looking at Dis Bear in fright.
Dis Bear felt incredibly guilty for scaring this person that could become his friend, with whom he was already able to empathize.
“Joly and Bossuet were kind enough to walk me home,” Grantaire said, before remembering that he was not, in fact, home. “I appear to have given them incorrect directions. Maybe I’ll just die here. Maybe I’ll be eaten by a bear. Enjolras will be happier for it.”
Dis Bear was insulted that Grantaire thought he would eat him, and must have looked so, because Grantaire quickly added,
“Not you. Another bear. A ferocious one.”
Dis Bear didn’t know whether to be offended or not, and desperately wished that he was better at speaking French. He knew that Fleur and Meneur were both fluent. Although Dis Bear could understand the language well enough, he was awful at pronunciations. He decided to try, regardless,
“I’m ferocious,” he attempted.
Grantaire let out a small noise of terror, and stood to his feet, stumbling slightly, losing his balance, and catching himself on a tree. The display of clumsiness reminded Dis Bear disturbingly of himself.
He wanted to speak further, but was worried that any other attempts would scare Grantaire away completely.
After gaining his footing, Grantaire appeared to have a revelation. He took another long drink of wine, before casting the bottle onto the ground dramatically.
“Aha! I understand you, Monsieur Bear!” Grantaire began. “You are saying that you would like to meet Enjolras. Very well. I will take you to him. I will say, ‘Enjolras, look. I have brought a bear for your revolution.’ Enjolras will surely scoff at first until I explain. ‘Enjolras,’ I will say, ‘the National Guard is no match for a bear. They will run screaming in terror, much like our good friends Joly and Bossuet.’ Well, better not to mention them. So, what do you say?”
Grantaire was looking intently at Dis Bear, who had a rather hard time tracking Grantaire’s words.
Finally, he gave a short nod.
“Excellent!” Grantaire said, once again swaying drunkenly into the tree. “Come with me, then.”
Grantaire stumbled away at a slow pace, unused to walking in the woods at night whilst heavily intoxicated. Dis Bear followed hesitantly. Although he had only just met Grantaire, Dis Bear knew that he would need to prove himself beyond measure to the sleuth if he ever hoped to be welcomed back, and be worthy of Fleur. What better way than to help win a revolution for his new friend?
Thankfully the streets of Paris were cast in darkness and completely deserted as Grantaire and Dis Bear made their way down the Rue Soufflot to Grantaire’s home.
It was a small, damp apartment with a leaking roof and incredibly unstable walls. The floor was littered with empty wine bottles and paintings that appeared long abandoned. Grantaire went about setting up a few blankets on the floor, presumably for Dis Bear to sleep.
Then, without another word, he blew out the candle that he’d lit upon entering, and fell onto his mattress, snoring loudly.
Dis Bear settled himself onto the makeshift bed and hoped that things would become clearer in the morning.