Author's Note: I don't want to give the story away here, so I'll write my notes regarding the story at the end of the fic.

But I would like to warn you a bit, first. You know how I said in the description there were role reversals and twists? Well, I didn't just say that for my health XD There really are tons of twists and 'what-if's in here, so you've been warned. If you don't like that kind of fic, or if you're not open to lots and lots of plot twists, then don't read and don't review. :D

But, if you're welcome to AU fics, then read on!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, events, places, or times in this fic; Victor Hugo does. The only thing I own is the writing and the fic itself.

Ils Renversent

He saw her every day in the park. Over time, he realized that the only reason he ever went was, actually, to see her.

It took him a long time, but eventually he realized, not without profound marvel, that he was madly in love with her.

After he found out, he often almost subconsciously left his apartment at irregular, unplanned times to see, maybe by luck or chance, if he could find her and perhaps discover where she lived. He never did; every impromptu two-hour walk in Paris in the evening was always to no avail, always without the girl.

She constantly prevailed in his thoughts. Nothing distracted him from his work more than she did -- reveries of her and her unworldly smile, how she held herself, the way she was so amazingly dressed, her incredible beauty. One could say that he was in love with her to the point of being crazy: critically bewitched and infatuated enough to take a bullet and die for her, but barely knowing her.

He desperately hoped the girl loved him, too. He always thought of that first day when they had met at the park, he had looked up at her the very moment she looked up at him. There was an undeniable spark he felt when it happened, a sentiment he couldn't ignore.

He wondered if when he daydreamed of her, she was daydreaming of him. He decided undersensedly that if he ever found that she didn't love him just as much as he loved her, he would surely die. Such a fierce and mastodonic love is simply that powerful if unrequited.

Several months went by like this -- fully submersed in his secluded obsession, every day catching a glimpse of his love, every day wanting to know more about this beautiful girl.

Finally he gave in to his rife curiosity and stayed longer than normal on his daily walk where he saw the lovely girl. He circled around the park and hid, watching her sit on the bench with her father, charmed by the sight of her more than before, if it was possible, as a result of getting a better, longer look at her. His heart swelled at that moment with unadulterated joy -- now, without a doubt in his mind, he had to meet with her, to talk to her! He had to!

He stayed a bit longer still, hiding and watching. He thought that she and her father would rise and head home, and he could follow behind them to see where they lived, so that there might be a chance for him meeting her. Oh, the idea of it!

But instead of going anywhere, he found, someone came to them; it was a young man who approached the bench where they sat, the same age as he, but very lavishly-dressed and more handsome. The beautiful girl rose at his approach, immediately gave him a kiss and then a smile, and took his arm. They walked away together, arms linked and heads close together, an air about the two emitting obvious fiery, intensive adoration for one another.

She already had a love.

His heart felt as if it might might implode, or as if his head might shatter into two million pieces.

She could not be his, and she would never feel this way for him.

The very whim of such a horrific thing made the idea of living, of life, vanish entirely from his mind. He came to love this woman so passionately, and to find that she already loved somebody else! He knew that he would be heartsick, be close to death, without her or the possibility of a love between the them. There was nothing he could do now but stand by and watch as the object of his unbound passion pour all her love out to another man and not to him. She didn't even acknowldege his existence, and it hurt him beyond words.

He was, indeed, heartsick for several weeks after that. He didn't take any more of his daily walks in the park after that day. He stopped seeing his friends and stopped going to the meetings they had at the local café. He withdrew himself from the world. Inevitably for a sensitive dreamer such as he was, he suffered significant pain from this unrequited love.

One of his best friends came to check on him, not having seen him for a month and a half.

"Marius," the friend said when he entered the room, "something's obviously terribly wrong with you. You've not been to Café Musain in a long time, and so I come to check on you; and here you are, sick as a dog, house a wreck, you look pitiful! What's the matter, Marius?"

Marius, who was lying over his desk where he fell asleep the night before while doing his translating work, sat up and tried his best not to shed tears as he answered mournfully, "Courfeyrac, do you remember me telling you about the woman in the Luxembourg? She's already fallen in love with a different man."

Courfeyrac frowned pensively and placed his hands in his coat pockets. "Ah, that's a pity for you, Marius. I can see how such a thing could affect a man with your personality with such severity...however, I'd think getting out for a bit might do you some good. Perhaps you should come with me to the Musain later this evening. Some social time may lift your spirits."

Marius looked at the ground with a deeply contemplative frown full of tormented melancholy. He seemed not to hear Courfeyrac's suggestion at all.
"Courfeyrac," he asked, his voice doleful and dispirited, "do you, perhaps, have any idea as to what her name is? Oh, if only I could know her name!"

Courfeyrac, who knew many, many people in the city of Paris, thought for a moment.

"Let me think now. I know her family -- they're well-known here in Paris, a sociable bourgeoise people, I know that much...let me see."

He deliberated for a bit and then, remembering, finished, "Oh, yes. I believe her name is Eponine."

Author's Note: Okay, now to the story notes.

::: The title is French. If I'm correct, it means "They reverse," referring to the role reversals in the fic. If my French is wrong, please tell me so I can correct the title.

::: I hope I kept everyone in-character, despite the role-reversals and alternate universe. XD Mainly Courfeyrac. He didn't have very many speaking lines in the book to get a good grasp of his speaking habits, and I haven't seen the musical, so I had to kind of guess. I know he's the stylish one of Les Amis, so I went from there on his character.

::: I hope Marius wasn't too dreadfully OOC or dramatic or anything. His role-reversal is with Eponine, as you've most likely understood. While Eponine just dealt with her unrequited love in the book, I thought that surely if Marius was given the same circumstance, he would have such a much harder time dealing with it than Eppie, considering his dreamer personality and such. Seriously.

And, Marius is my favorite character from Les Mis, don't get me wrong. But it just frustrated me how he treated Ponine in the book! So I wanted to write out an AU where Marius gets a taste of his own medicine. So I thought, what a good way to do that with these what-if fics! ;)

::: I don't know how Eponine got to be a bourgeoise and have expensive clothes and escape being Thenardier's daughter and being a waif and all, but she did. XD I'll leave that up to you. I've read a fic once where Valjean takes Eponine and Azelma from the inn instead of Cosette, so you could take it that way. Or, maybe Thénardier never lost the inn, and he moved to Paris to make even more money with his now-famous hotel chain or something and didn't have to be a poor robber at all. I've always wanted to write a fic where Ponine got to be rich and well-off, and a lady. In reality, the only thing keeping her from being a lady was the family she was born into, and so I wrote one where she is a lady. (And I don't care if you don't like that idea. Fandom is freedom, and I can write what I want.)

How Ponine got to be that way is up to you guys. That also goes for who the man is whom she's in love with.

Hope you enjoyed! Please review if you liked it!