Hey so I’m trying to get past my issues about posting fanfiction and overthinking my writing in general (especially in regards to canon era) so have this little thing based on this post. (Idk if anybody else already wrote about this but…)
Feuilly was out early. It was a pleasantly crisp but sunny autumn day and he felt a sense of determination that only unexpectedly favourable weather can awaken. There was still plenty of time before the others would be in Musain. He walked past the café and crossed the Place Saint-Michel only to be stopped by someone calling his name.
Grantaire ran across the square to catch up with him. “Do you have another group of student friends that you are seeing behind our backs?”
“Why so?”
“You walked right past our usual haunt.”
“It is a bit early for seeing students out of bed, is it not?”
“Harsh words but true.”
“Besides I have some business to take care of.”
“On a Sunday?”
“I work on other days.”
“An acceptable excuse. I’ll accompany you.”
Feuilly was thrown off guard. “You will?”
“Yes. As you said, it is too early to expect the company of students.”
“Apparently not as early as I thought”, said Feuilly. He turned onto the Rue Saint-Dominique.
“So, what is your clandestine business? It must be exciting for you to be reluctant to let me follow you.”
“I am not reluctant.”
“You are hardly excited.”
“I am only…” Feuilly stopped, hit by a sudden lack of confidence. If he told Grantaire his plans, the man would surely ask why he was moving so far from his workplace. Would it be presumptuous of him to imply that his friendship with the group was intimate enough to merit relocating just to be closer to them? They were all still so much more polite towards him than each other after all. Even if it was only out of respect, how was he to know for certain? Sometimes the ways of the students were a mystery to him. “A friend is considering moving closer to Sorbonne. I am helping him find a suitable place.”
Grantaire seemed strangely delighted. “Well, your friend is in luck! I know everything there is to know about this quartier. Is he a student?”
“No, a worker.”
“How much does he earn?”
“Three francs a day.”
“Well well. That limits the options but no matter, we shall find him a perfect home.”
“I was on my way to have a look at a garret in the Cul-de-sac Saint-Dominique.”
“Waste of time! That sign has been there for a year at least. With such a location a room should have a hundred takers within a week. If it is not fit even for a starving poet, it is not fit for your estimable friend.”
“My friend is not choosy.”
“He is your friend thus he deserves better.” Grantaire took him by the arm and turned them around. “Is your friend a republican perhaps?”
“He is. Why?”
“Then he would undoubtedly be opposed to the Rue Monsieur-le-Prince.”
“I doubt he would hold it against the poor street. After the revolution, the streets can be renamed.”
Grantaire laughed. “A dreamer then.”
They found the house soon enough. “What do you think?” asked Grantaire.
“It is small but I like the way it looks.” It didn’t look too expensive or too run down. They went inside and found the concierge who eagerly agreed to show them the room.
“This is small even for a small house”, said Grantaire.
“I like it”, said Feuilly. “My friend doesn’t need much space.”
“There is no fireplace.”
“There are fireplaces in both of the rooms around it”, the concierge assured them. “They keep this room very warm as well.”
Grantaire knocked on the walls. “Paper thin.”
“That only lets the warmth through better.”
This seemed good enough for Feuilly who hadn’t expected much better but Grantaire was seemingly unhappy.
“How much?” he asked.
“Five francs a week.”
“Absurd! I wouldn’t pay more than 15 sous for this box.”
“Five francs.”
Grantaire scoffed. “Monsieur-le-Prince has princely prices even for closets”, he said and practically dragged Feuilly out.
Their next attempt was the Rue des Maçons which Grantaire deemed a good deal but Feuilly found too expensive. “The price is more important than the comforts”, he said. “To my friend, I mean. That last room was overpriced, yes, but at least five francs a week is manageable.”
“Of course”, said Grantaire. “But I would not let him give up on a fireplace, especially if he is going to live alone without anyone else warming his bed. Let us check the Rue des Mathurins while we are here.”
“You seem to be well-informed about free rooms in this area, my friend”, Feuilly said.
Grantaire didn’t answer right away. “The truth is, a friend of mine has been looking for a room in this very neighbourhood as well”, he said finally. “And he would also like to find something a bit more affordable than his current residence as he has other more important expenses to take into account.”
The apartment on the Rue des Mathurins turned out to be on the first floor and they didn’t even bother to see it. They visited several houses in the little culs de sac on Mont Saint-Geneviève but the rooms were too big (and hence expensive) for Feuilly’s taste and too bare for Grantaire’s.
Finally, as they were walking back towards Musain, quiet in their disappointment, Grantaire broke the silence: “I did notice that there was a free room at number 20 Rue des Grès.” This was just as they turned onto said street.
“I know”, said Feuilly. “I already went to see it earlier.”
“To be frank, so did I.”
“It was too expensive.”
“But it’s big enough for two people.”
Feuilly looked at Grantaire. Grantaire looked at Feuilly. Then both looked at the house down the street.
“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to have another look”, said Feuilly. “It is on the way after all.”
The room was still free. The old concierge recognised both of them and gladly gave them the key so they could go up by themselves, as she was having some back pains that day and didn’t care for the climb.
“So what is your friend like, then?” asked Feuilly as they pretended to inspect the room. “Do you think he would get along with my friend?”
“Oh, absolutely! He is a marvellous fellow and he loves the entire human race!”
“That sounds very promising indeed.”
“He is a bit of a libertine, mind you, and he enjoys his wine and absinthe in generous qualities. Nothing unreasonable of course.”
“Of course.”
“The flocks of women who follow him may cause some inconvenience. He is very handsome and charming, you see. Swooning grisettes at the door, piles and piles of love letters, that sort of thing.”
“I’m sure my friend wouldn’t mind.”
“Then again he barely spends any time home which is of course the most desirable quality in a roommate.”
“Luckily my friend shares this quality as well. He would have to rise quite early, though. Would that be a problem to this man who I imagine stays up quite late?”
“Oh, he won’t wake up so easily.”
“Then this seems like a perfectly acceptable match.”
“Especially for such a good deal. The room is big enough, it has all the reasonable accommodations, the price is decent when split in half…” Grantaire walked over to the window. “And it seems to be right next to a very agreeable café.”
Musain’s backroom was noisy enough when they arrived that nobody even seemed to notice them. Feuilly found himself a seat and was listening idly to the debate going on between Combeferre and Prouvaire when a hand touched his shoulder and Enjolras sat down next to him.
“You came in late today. Have you been busy?”
Feuilly smiled. “I was just helping a friend find himself a roommate.”
(Then they end up getting so used to the coded wording that they never actually end up telling their friends they moved in together.)
Disclaimer: I know nothing about looking for apartments in canon era. And I only have very vague ideas of rent prices, mostly based on the Brick.
liberté • égalité • amitié 