A/N: The Thénardiers are technically speaking in French when they're talking to each other. When they're talking to Americans, they'll be speaking English and French (with translations provided by RainWillMakeTheFlowersGrow).
"We are no longer the Thénardiers," Azelma's father said, two days after they had walked away from Marius' house. "In America, we shall be the Guerrettes! We are Monsieur Guerrette and his daughter, Gulnare Guerrette."
Azelma made a face. She didn't want to be known as Gulnare in America. She took a deep breath, "Père, why can't I be Azelma in America?"
Thénardier scowled, "because we have to change our names to protect our identities! We don't want anyone to recognize us!"
"Where are the ships to America?" Azelma asked.
"Le Havre," Thénardier said. "The passage to America is 120 to 150 francs. With Marius giving us 20,000 francs, that leaves us 19,850 francs for America."
Gulnare Guerrette is a dreadful name, Azelma thought, but didn't say anything else.
"Do you have your papers?" Thénardier asked Azelma. Azelma nodded and put her hand in her pocket. Inside was a small paper identifying her as a French citizen, so she could leave. Thénardier had two new papers for America hidden away. These papers were forged, and had the name Guerrette instead of Thénardier.
They made their way to the port at La Havre. The carriage ride was bumpy and the carriage itself was falling apart. Azelma remembered the beautiful carriages at the wedding. The dresses were beautiful, the flowers were beautiful, the whole wedding was beautiful. Azelma smiled as she thought of the beautiful gowns. As a kid, Éponine and she had a couple pretty dresses. Remembering Éponine sent a pang through Azelma's heart. She had no idea what happened to her sister or her brother. Eight months went by with no news, so she came to the conclusion that they had died. Azelma remembered Éponine taking boys' clothes and slipping out the night of June 4th. Did she go to the insurrection? Azelma thought.
Azelma sat on the ruined bed, listening to the sounds of fighting. Her father had left a little bit ago, probably to go down to the sewers. Azelma never wanted to go down to the sewers. Azelma was all alone in the small house. She got up and paced. It was warm out, and the ruined window brought in gusts of warm air. Azelma's stomach growled and she sighed. She was starving, but the streets were dangerous. It looked like she'll have to go without food for a day or two, until her father gets back.
Thénardier stumbled in a couple days later, grinning. He smelled awful, but Azelma was used to it. He drew out a piece of ruined coat and exclaimed how this was going to help him later on, he knew it. He also managed to get some money. Azelma ran out and bought bread for her and wine for her father, at his request. The streets were mostly empty. The stores were closed, but with some begging, they quickly gave her what she needed. Curious, Azelma wandered down the street. She knew she was nearing the site of the fighting when she stepped in a puddle of blood. Azelma glanced down the street, which was littered with dead bodies. A couple police officers were walking around the dead bodies. Azelma didn't want to be seen, so she quickly ran back to their apartment.
Azelma drifted off to sleep, dreaming of weddings and blood-filled streets. The Thénardiers got closer to La Havre. Thénardier woke her up to inform her that they were stopping at an inn for the night. As Azelma followed her father into the inn, she glanced up at the starry sky. She hoped that her new life in America will be better. No hunger, no coldness, no broken hands, no more people dying. Just her father and her, together.
