Maglor in the 1848 French Revolution by Aprilertuile

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January 1848

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As soon as he was released, Maglor went back home, finding Joséphine there with Louisa sleeping peacefully in her crib.

“Welcome back Max.”

Maglor raised an eyebrow at that. She had sounded so honest despite the fact he knew she had wished him gone for quite some time.

He hesitated but decided he was too tired to care and wanted to get cleaned first of all.

When Louis came back home, long hours after the sun had set, he found Joséphine in the kitchen and Maglor sleeping on the couch, little Louisa in his arms. Seeing that even asleep Maglor looked exhausted, Louis resisted the urge to kiss him awake.

“He came back a few hours ago.” Joséphine said quietly from the kitchen door.

“How is he?” Louis asked.

“Fine? I guess. He didn’t say anything and he seems fine.”

“Because I’m fine. For the record.” Maglor said, opening just an eye, unwilling to move more than that.

He was clean, he was warm, he was safe, and he was too damn tired to care about anything else. He’d move for food or for Louisa, and nothing else.

Well a fire to the building might possibly motivate him too…

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you that tired.” Louis said to Maglor who nodded.

“It’s been known to happen. But no, indeed, you’ve never seen it. Jail’s not exactly a happy, healthy place to be.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m perfectly fine. I just need rest.”

“And food,” Louis interjected.

“And that yes. But other than that, I’m healthy as can be.”

“If you’re sure…”

Neither Louis nor Joséphine seemed really convinced.

Maglor sighed. This era was terrible; a simple month in jail for a minor offence was as feared by people as a death sentence would be.

Someone needed to put a leash on the government before the whole thing came crashing down.

If it was still possible.

Jail wasn’t synonymous with death. Not at it was in the laws.

Maglor found himself daydreaming of going to the palace to get rid of the useless and greedy current royal family, but he knew the probable outcome would be utter political instability and more people suffering as a result.

So not desirable at all.

When Joséphine served the meal at the table of the living-room, Maglor finally rose to his feet, going to the table to eat, half awake, but the prospect of warm, actually tasteful and identifiable food drove him.

“How do you even do that? Louisa cries if I so much as move a finger when I hold her.” Louis asked, slightly jealous.

Maglor looked at him with a sort of absent polite curiosity at that.

“How do you manage to distress her enough to cry just by moving a finger? Little Louisa is a delight, and cries little with me. I’ve known twin brothers who’d scream their heads off if you only moved one without moving the other, even just moving your arm slightly to get into a better position would start the screaming. Great fun.”

Thinking of his brothers this time brought a grimace to Maglor’s face. As babies Amrod and Amras had been utter nightmares.

Celegorm had even been absolutely gleeful at throwing in his face the fact he was a hunter and couldn’t keep an eye on babies safely enough to escape babysitting the twin terrors. So Maglor had gotten his revenge later by dumping them on him when they were teenagers.

Maglor was pretty sure that Maedhros let it all happen in fear of being named babysitter again if he so much as breathed a protest.

For indeed, the twins had managed to wear even Maedhros down, and he was the most patient of them at the time when kids were concerned.

Maglor still claimed that his brother’s sudden interest for politics was a strange sort of defence mechanism on his eldest brother’s part as he couldn’t decently be seen killing his own baby brothers…

In any case, at that time Nelyo had found his passion for politics and even he couldn’t both read a proposed text of laws, or trade agreement or other official text AND look after two touchy, screaming babies at the same time.

So Maedhros hadn’t been available to babysit when their parents were unavailable, and it had fallen to Maglor. He had been so annoyed at playing babysitter, that he’d had great fun writing a few catchy little songs regarding a mysterious red-head’s ambiguous story with a mysterious cousin with black hair, and the epic courage of said ellon in defying his uncle’s rage for the sake of his relation to his beloved cousin.

That had annoyed everyone in the family, Maedhros and Fingon first, their parents, and siblings of course, Finrod, who was pouting at having missed that golden opportunity himself, and Galadriel who had found the whole thing ridiculous.

To be fair, it had been ridiculous.

The rumours of their supposed relationship had lasted until Fingon’s death, and then people had been too afraid of Maedhros to dare mention it.

It was beautiful.

He may have been a bit of a troll at the time.

Just a bit.

“… ax! Max!”

Maglor jumped, startled out of his memories by Louis’ voice calling him.

“Ah, apologies, I wasn’t paying attention. You were saying?”

“You should eat while it’s hot, and go to sleep. And stay in and rest tomorrow.”

Maglor nodded. He was clearly in need of some rest if he let himself daydream like that.

“That’s the plan, yes.”

“I’m impressed you haven’t dropped Louisa yet.”

Maglor looked at him sharply.

“Are you saying that you thought it possible and yet let me keep your daughter?”

“No, I’m saying I’m impressed that you kept a good hold of her and that you can do that without even paying attention.”

Maglor debated the merits of dumping Louisa on Louis’ lap in retaliation for that, but decided that Louisa was sleeping too well and he was too hungry and tired to deal with a crying baby.

After supper, Maglor gave Louisa back to Joséphine, and went to sleep in his own bed, in his own bedroom. Heaven.

He only fully relaxed when Louis joined him and laid on the bed next to him. He fell deep into reverie with Louis’ hand checking his pulse.

Maglor awoke in the morning when Louis got up to go to work. He was feeling a bit more awake and less like he was going to get lost in his memories.

To his defence, it was a lot of memories.

“How are you feeling?”

“Awake and less faint.”

“What happened?”

“Jail happened. I’m not a man Louis. I always need to be careful. Doubly so in jail where there’s no privacy. I stayed on edge longer than I should have but I’m fine, I promise. It’s nothing that rest won’t cure in a day.”

“Alright. Rest then, and take the time you need.”

“Of course. And don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”

“Obviously you’re fine,” Louis answered, clearly sceptical.

“I’m not dying, I can’t catch the illnesses men can., All I need is a bit of rest and I’ll be good as new. So yes, obviously, I’m fine.”

“You know what happened, the soldiers, the jail… Everything was wrong right? It shouldn’t have been handled like that.”

“Of course it was.”

“People are right when they say we need no king but a republic. Royalty’s the worst and their nobles all abuse their power and rank.”

“Good luck with that,” Maglor muttered.

“You should think about it seriously.”

“Louis…”

“I’m serious, Maglor.”

“Then answer me this: how many people do you want to sacrifice on the altar of your dream republic? More so knowing it’ll never last because someone will always come up to pervert the system in the end.”

“You can’t know that. Our monarchy is hardly better or less bloody.”

“Easy to say from the safety of home. Will you go in the streets and kill those who disagree?” Maglor asked pointedly.

“That’s not…”

“If you oppose the king and his ministry by just walking in the street when you face people who use weapons, it’ll be a blood bath. And if you do go with a weapon in your hand, you’ll have to use it. So, Louis, my dearest idealist friend, who will you sacrifice for your Republic? On whose blood and bones will you build the basis of your Republic?”

“On those who are willing! There’s too many of us. The king and the ministers will have to listen to us. They can’t ignore us or kill us all! It’s impossible.”

“Look, just… Think about it, ok? Don’t throw your future and that of your daughter away recklessly.”

“I can promise that much.”

As promised, Maglor stayed in the apartment when Louis left.

He took the couch hostage in the living room, and was given Louisa when Joséphine awoke in the morning.

“Do you want breakfast Max?”

“No thank you, but go eat.”

Joséphine shook her head with a sad smile.

“We can’t really afford 3 meals a day. It’d have been fine if you needed it because, well, jail can’t have been good, but still…”

“I see. You’re strangely friendly now. Why?”

“Max, you were gone for a month… A month and Louis barely ever looked at me. I thought maybe with you gone… But I barely rated a look when he came to me about Louisa. Not a look, not a word. He doesn’t care for me anymore and… I guess Ismérie was right; I shouldn’t have tried so hard to keep him. So at least when you’re here there’s someone who’ll talk to me.”

“I see… Ismérie doesn’t talk to you now?”

“She said I can’t work at the tavern as I am, after I fainted at work the other day. Ismérie and Louis both say my condition is degrading and I need to rest or I’ll die soon. She won’t say no if I come by and talk to her, probably, but not on her working hours, and… You know her.”

Maglor frowned at that and looked at Joséphine, truly looked… And her presence, her song, was all out of tune and so incredibly faint… Had she managed to convince herself she would die soon, and in the process accidentally dissolved his own work that strengthened her until a month ago, hence worsening her health exponentially?

Maglor was impressed. With such strength of spirit, once upon a time, with a better upbringing, she’d have been a force to reckon with. It was sad that here and now it would be her death if he didn’t step in again.

“I see. You stopped resenting me then?”

“You are cold and cruel at times. You don’t care when you talk to me. But… I didn’t either care about you, to be honest. I just wanted Louis to see me. I wanted you gone and it didn’t matter how. I was just… Too afraid to use poison. I wanted my happy ending.”

“Yes, well, Pyramus and Thisbe got their happy ending in death, if you see what I mean,” Maglor pointed out simply.

“… That was morbid, thank you very much.”

Maglor shrugged at that. Morbid perhaps but so true… Love rarely lasted and young couples that married purely for love in this time tended to end messed up. Best case scenario, they were friends who stayed friends, worst case scenario…

“So, let’s… Talk of something else, shall we? What happened while I was in jail, miss Joséphine? What happened to push Louis to think that a Republic would be brilliant?”

“Several things. The king refused any idea of electoral reform, it was announced last month, and the classes of Pr Michelet have been suspended. Students are all unhappy about it. And they planned, the pro-republicans I mean, they planned a banquet in Paris, but Guizot forbade the gathering.”

“So generally speaking the king and his government don’t listen to the people who are less and less happy about being ignored.”

Maglor thought to himself it was a bold and thoughtless move on the government’s part to cancel the classes of Jules Michelet. The man was a known Republican, sure, and his ideas might not be the best for the government, but to be so open about that was a sure way to get people unhappy about it.

It had also proved beyond a doubt that the government wouldn’t care to respect people’s right to live and work, not matter how good their situation was. People wouldn’t feel safe if the government showed they could and would deprive someone of their work because they didn’t like that person’s ideas.

That was not going to end well.

“That’s about it. And you weren’t the only one put in jail recently. It happens more and more often. Soldiers just come instead of the city guards or the police, and just a whisper against the king is ground for months in jail.”

“I see.”

And Maglor was indeed seeing many things. He understood what she was saying of course, but he also saw her as she was now: calm. Almost at peace. He wondered what had really happened between Ismérie and her, or Louis and her… But if she didn’t want to share, it was her right.

“Oh and prices grew again for some reason. I mean, it’s still liveable. If we don’t spend on other things, and we only eat maximum two meals a day we can still pay rent and eat almost every day. It could be worse.”

Maglor snorted at that. This coming from the girl who had difficulties to understand that daddy wasn’t there anymore to help her.

Joséphine grimaced. She understood his meaning well enough.

“Don’t blame me, it’s just so hard to stay cheerful, I just…”

“I don’t blame you. Not for that.”