Once upon a time, there were ten princes who lived in a beautiful castle in a great and good kingdom. Their names were Jehan, Bahorel, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, Grantaire, Laigle, Combeferre, Enjolras, Marius, and Joly.
The king and queen did not know what to do with them. When the princes were small, maids and courtiers alike would go tearing up the castle halls chased by a small, giggling person holding a snake (or a knife, in the case of one memorable afternoon). Night after night, the whole castle would awaken to the screams of the royal counselor (a rather nasty fellow), who had found a scorpion or a nest of cockroaches in his bed.
Now that they were older, the princes were stirring up mischief of a different sort. No more harmless (well, almost harmless) pranks. The issue of, um, marriage and royal duties had come up, and the trouble all began with Jehan. The eldest prince had grown to be a tall, quiet young man with zero fashion sense and an intense love for books and lots of them. Also for flowers. And poetry. And daydreaming. He wept over women, but marriage, he maintained, was beyond him.
"But, Jehan," said the king, trying to remain patient, "think of your duty to your kingdom, to me! If you don't marry and take the throne then, well, you know who will." And he gave Jehan a meaningful look.
But Jehan didn't appear to be moved. "I'm sorry, Father, but I'd rather just read for the rest of my life. I'm sure Bahorel would make a fine king. Here, you must read this one," and he shoved a thick tome under the king's nose, his eyes shining. "It's about a princess who-"
"Yes, a princess!" the king cried. "You love romances; why not live one yourself?"
Jehan cringed. "Girls are scary."
"Tarantulas and vipers never frightened you."
"Girls are not tarantulas or vipers."
The king threw his arms in the air with exasperation. "Girls, Jehan! Are you afraid of your mother?"
Jehan looked offended. "Of course not."
"Then-"
"No!" And Jehan turned and left his fuming father.
Well, it just got worse from there. While the king spent hours with the royal counselor debating what to do about the eldest prince, Jehan's brothers inevitably learned of the whole affair, and if they had been willing to marry before, they now were not. Or they fell for the wrong girls.
Courfeyrac, for instance. The third prince was the second handsomest of all his brothers, with his curling, molasses-colored hair and his bright dark eyes and meltingly sweet smile. What princess could not resist such a man? But as for Courfeyrac, he couldn't resist any girl, and had a new candidate for his wife every week. Unlike Jehan, he had too much fashion sense.
Feuilly loved only his horses. He was adopted as a baby when Courfeyrac found him on the castle steps. Half the horses in the royal stables belonged to Feuilly, and he made sure that the birthdays of all fifty-six of them were observed. He also loved painting, but he only painted one thing, and it doesn't take much imagination to guess what that was. He refused to sleep in the castle; he slept with his beloved equines, and so smelled of manure and always had straw sticking out of his hair. Who would marry a horse?
Grantaire had a drinking problem and worshiped his younger brother, Enjolras. None of the neighboring kingdoms would offer their princesses to Grantaire - none of them wanted a drunk for a son-in-law. A cynic, no one could ever convince him of anything.
Laigle was a kind fellow, and quite handsome despite being bald. He also fell down the stairs at least twice a day. He loved a courtier's daughter, a certain Musichetta, and while this was perfectly acceptable, a bit of a disagreement had arisen since the youngest prince, Joly, was also in love with her. To make matters worse, Musichetta herself could not decide between them (even though some thought the answer obvious, but it depended on whom you asked).
Combeferre was almost as bad as Jehan as he loved to read, but he didn't daydream, and he wasn't as tall, and he knew how to dress well, and he wore glasses. He loved moths and kept them as pets. And he was in love - with Éponine, the scullery maid! (It didn't help that Éponine herself was in love Marius, not Combeferre.)
Enjolras, the handsomest of his brothers, was every princesses' dream. He had luscious golden locks, porcelain skin, and eyes like jewels taken from the sky. But he cared nothing at all for women. "A waste of time," he told his father. "I would much rather focus my attentions on giving more rights to our subjects than mooning over some silly creature in petticoats." He detested Grantaire, and the king refused Enjolras' reforms.
Marius had a sweet, innocent love for women, especially fairies, which is what he thought the lovely daughter of a neighboring king was. Unfortunately, this monarch, King Valjean, did not take kindly to Marius' request of Princess Cosette's hand and told Marius' father that if he dared ask him again he would declare war on his kingdom.
As for Joly, the apple of the king's eye, well, not only was he in love with the same girl as his brother, but when the young, lively, fair-haired prince came of marrying age (16), he was struck with a disease with no known cure and was confined to his bed 24/7.
Even with all these annoying problems, the king and queen could have gotten by rather well if had not been for Bahorel. Oh, Bahorel! At the very mention of his name, the king would shudder. Called the "Wild Prince", Bahorel had been the ringleader of the "harmless" pranks when the princes were small. He never stayed at the castle for more than a week before he was off again for sometimes month-long rambles in the woods and glens. He wore nothing but a loincloth and let his hair grow long (and despairingly knotted). What woman in her right mind would marry such a man?
The king decided this had to end once and for all. He would not let the kingdom fall into the dirty hands of his wild child. After a long (and highly irritating) talk with the royal counselor, he barged into Jehan's room without knocking and thrust a finger at him. "If you don't marry, then – then – then I'll send you to law school!"
Jehan jumped where he sat at his writing desk and looked up at his father in horror. "All right," he whispered, but anyone could see the misery on his face, and the king left feeling guilty, but reassured himself that he was doing the best thing for the kingdom.
The finest princesses from all over the land were summoned, but Jehan was not interested in any of them. They weren't covered in enough jewels and sparkles and laces and bows and glitter and ruffles and doo-dads and knick-knacks and fluff and baubles and charms and wires to suit Jehan. There was only one who was – Princess Maria-Suzette (who was also the epitome of perfection). Of course, Jehan chose her, but we all know why. His mood improved considerably as he fell head-over-heels for her, even though Mary-Sue (as everyone called her) was a rather demanding and pouty individual. But since she was so beautiful, no one dared say anything against her.
In the meantime, Bahorel was acting very strange. He returned to the castle more frequently, but his visits were short since he came only to take food from the kitchen when he thought no one was looking (or when people thought he thought no one was looking; no one could even begin to guess what went on in the Wild Prince's head). The king puzzled so long over this mystery that the queen noticed three new gray hairs on his head. He took his problem to Javert, the royal counselor.
"I can let Combeferre marry his scullery maid, or even let Feuilly live his life with his horses, but I cannot and will not let Bahorel act like a wild animal or let him take the throne!" said the king.
The royal counselor did not like Bahorel (as a boy, the prince had regularly sheared through his garments, given him haircuts in his sleep, and tied his legs together under his desk) and thought of the nastiest thing he could think of. "Hunt him down and chain him up, your highness, until he complies."
The king frowned. "Wouldn't that just make him want his freedom more?"
"Oh no, your highness! It's the great value he places on his freedom that will make him submit."
"All right," agreed the king, only half convinced. He thought about Bahorel's recent strange behavior, and added, "But first let's find out what he's up to."
And so the king sent Feuilly to follow his brother the next time he returned to the castle and see what he did, with the promise of a heaping bowl of chocolate pudding for his horses (and everyone knows horses adore chocolate pudding).
When Feuilly returned, half a tree was caught in his hair and the tale he told was even stranger. "Bahorel went into the woods, like he usually does. He came to a glade where only a little light came in. Then he sat down on a fallen log and waited. After a few minutes, a girl, a wood nymph I think, came dancing from the trees. She was very beautiful." Feuilly said this last part in such a mysterious, contemplative voice, that the king and queen exchanged worried looks. "Bahorel stood and they embraced and kissed." The king winced. "Bahorel gave her a muffin (and everyone knows that wood nymphs dote on muffins) and then the girl took him by the hand and together they ran into the trees. I would have followed them, but it was past my horses' feeding time, so I headed back. When Patria swam the stream, she sprained her hock, so I had to lead her back here." Feuilly scowled and demanded the promised chocolate pudding.
The king flew into a rage. Who cared if Bahorel had found love (and a tamer) at last? A prince couldn't be joined with a wood nymph, a creature as wild and reckless as Bahorel himself! The king sent soldiers into the countryside to hunt down and find the prince. They brought him screaming and kicking to the castle.
"BAHOREL!" roared the king when his second eldest son appeared before him. "How dare you fall in love with a wood nymph! I forbid you to marry her!"
Bahorel's copper eyes flashed. "Azelma and I are already married, Father, and"- here Bahorel smiled -"she is already pregnant."
The queen gasped. The king's mouth fell open. Then he slammed it shut. "Leave me!" he shouted, and brooded the rest of the day.
Bahorel was thrown in the dungeons, but still given plenty of good food, though the servants who came to take away his plate usually found the food little touched. The queen pleaded with the king to set the prince free, but he refused. Bahorel had to learn his lesson.
At last the wedding of Prince Jehan Jean Ariel Rosaire IV and Princess Maria-Suzette came. Bahorel was extracted from the dungeons. They succeeded in bathing him (the water in the tub had to be changed five times) but when it came to cutting his hair they ended up with five laid out menservants, three crying maids, two pairs of ruined shears, and Bahorel with knee-length hair. Feuilly also had to be brought in from the fields, but only three servants were injured.
Joly could not attend, but sent his best wishes to the happy couple. The other boys did not express much joy at the marriage because none of them were very thrilled at having Mary-Sue as a sister-in-law. Jehan, on the other hand, was ecstatic, and couldn't stop talking about his ravishing bride-to-be.
Garlands of flowers hung from the ceiling of the cathedral and grand music poured from the organ. Everyone in the kingdom had been invited to the wedding (including a few monarchs from some neighboring kingdoms in the hopes they would notice Jehan's, ahem, fine brothers there), and people flowed from the crammed interior. The entire royal family (minus Joly, of course) were dressed in their finest, even Bahorel (horrors!). The service lasted three hours, but this did not stop Jehan from kissing the bride a full minute. Even Courfeyrac began gagging after the first 30 seconds.
Everyone smiled as they left the cathedral, and the king felt that the day had been very productive. It wasn't until the royal family arrived back at the castle, however, that they noticed Bahorel was missing. After further investigation, they found the fine clothes they had forced him into lay discarded behind the cathedral, and everyone knew what had happened. The king sent search parties out to bring him back, but it would be a very long time before anyone saw the Wild Prince again.
"If anyone finds him," roared the king, "they shall bring him here to be locked away for the rest of his life!" No one dared disagree with him.
Well, after that, things began to get worse at the castle, except (of course) for Jehan and Mary-Sue. This should have reassured the king greatly, since the future of the kingdom appeared to be in capable hands, but it did not. Bahorel was still at large, and the very thought of the young, rebellious prince launched the king into angry rants (to nobody in particular). Also, the situation of his other sons had not improved much.
One day, the king was strolling down a corridor near the kitchen, when he turned a corner and almost fell over. Standing in the middle of the walkway was little no-nothing Éponine the scullery maid in the gentle embrace of Prince Combeferre Etienne Placide!
"Combeferre! What are you doing?!" the king cried.
The scullery maid and the prince jumped at the sound of his voice and whirled around, and Combeferre's face turned crimson. "Father, I-I-"
"She's a servant! You can't marry her!"
Silence on Combeferre's part. But Éponine said, "Marry? I don't want to marry him. I was only pretending he was Prince Marius." She smiled dreamily.
Combeferre stared at her, a hurt expression on his face, but the king blew up. "And YOU!" he snarled at Éponine. "You can't marry ANY of my sons! Away with you to the kitchen!"
Éponine hung her head and started to leave, but Combeferre caught her arms and drew her back. "Éponine," he wept, "I love you!"
The last straw. "Guards!" cried the king. Several appeared and stood at attention. "Throw this unworthy son in the dungeon!"
Combeferre started and his soft brown eyes grew wide. Éponine squeaked as he was torn from her arms and dragged to the dungeons, and she ran from the king's presence. The king stormed away, rage and hurt pounding through him.
But did his problems end there? Oh, no! He still had nine other unruly sons (well, Joly could be excused from being unruly, except for his one fault for falling in love with Musichetta).
Courfeyrac had now decided on a gypsy girl named Esmeralda, but the king tried not to worry too much since Courfeyrac was bound to change his mind again in another week. Enjolras would not leave the king alone concerning the condition of their subjects, and was hinting at something about barricades if he didn't comply. Laigle was falling down the stairs three times a day now and mumbling about eloping with Musichetta. Jehan and Mary-Sue irritated everyone to no end, most especially with a song which went like this (clearly Jehan's Worst Poem Ever):
"Oh, sweetie syrup-cakes!/You're like a dessert the cook makes,/Covered in cream and cherries/Because I so love dairies."
Bahorel was running wild in the forest, and Feuilly was found painting murals of galloping wild horses along the castle walls, Marius fantasized about Cosette and unicorns, Grantaire drank till he thought he was a unicorn, Combeferre amused himself in the dungeons by drawing each of his 105 moths from memory on the walls of his cell, and Joly lay in bed getting worse, leaving the king pulling his hair out and wishing he had a daughter.
Once again, he went to Javert for advice. Javert didn't really like any of the princes, and said, "If you locked them ALL up, Courfeyrac couldn't go running after girls, Feuilly could think of something besides equines, and Enjolras would stop pestering you."
The king laughed nervously. "Well, not all of them. Courf, Feuilly, Enjy, R (this would be Grantaire), and Marius are the biggest pains." (He did not mention Bahorel; not much could be done with him now.) He frowned at the thought. "But my boys! What would the other kingdoms think for me locking up half my children? That will definitely turn them off from giving their daughters to them!"
Javert had no idea how to answer this, but fortunately, he never had to, because at that moment, Enjolras burst in, golden hair flying, blue eyes flashing, and brandishing the king's own gun. He fired a shot into the ceiling, making both king and royal counselor jump in their seats, and Javert slowly slid under the king's desk. "What's this about locking us all up?" Enjolras roared. "That's it. TO THE BARRICADES!"
Apparently this had been long thought out, because at that, Jehan, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, Laigle, and Grantaire appeared and, using various castle furnishings, like sofas, bed frames, and the golden organ, barricaded the entrance to the king's study, thereby trapping the king and his royal counselor inside. (Grantaire actually didn't do much except comment on Enjolras' hair, which did indeed look even more angelic now that he was doing what he did best.) Enjolras shouted over the barricade once it was completed, "If you ever want to come out again, you'll set Combeferre free and leave us alone. We're grown men in case you haven't noticed. Except for Joly. And Marius, who'll always be that way, I think, and . . . where is Marius anyway?"
Marius was at this moment riding over to King Valjean's castle to catch a glimpse of the lovely Princess Cosette. We will see how this turned out in a moment. Back to the barricade.
"Do you hear the people sing?/Singing the song of angry men?/It is the music of a people who will not be slaves-"
"This is treason!" Javert shrieked.
"Maybe we should listen to them," the king whimpered.
"NO! They are a disgrace to the kingdom." Raising his voice so the princes could hear him, Javert cried, "You will all be locked up for the rest of your lives once we get out of this, you brats!"
"I never said that!" the king retorted.
"Surely you agree that that is their rightful punishment, my liege?"
"ENOUGH!" shouted Enjolras. "Do you give up or not? Feuilly, quit painting those things on the barricade."
"NEVER!" yelled Javert.
So the princes remained there for the rest of the day. (Laigle left once to bring cookies and milk for himself, Enjolras, Jehan, and Courfeyrac; water for Grantaire; and chocolate pudding for Feuilly, who was starting to think he really was a horse.) They also spent part of the night there, but they soon retired to their own rooms because of Javert's constant haranguing and Courfeyrac's terrible ghost stories. They returned the next morning to find no one had dismantled the barricade. (Several servants did start taking it apart, when the butler admonished them for ruining Prince Feuilly's paintings.) As they were debating what they should do next, a courier dashed into the hallway.
"Your highness!" he cried. He pulled up short upon seeing the barricade (complete with flowing-maned equines prancing along its sides) and the six furious princes. They promptly took him hostage. "But I have an urgent message for the king!" he protested.
"I'm going to be king next, so you can tell me," said Jehan, attempting to sound lofty, but only succeeding in sounding adorable.
"King Valjean has declared war on us!"
"WHAT?!" exploded the king on the other side of the barricade.
"According to Valjean," continued the courier, "Prince Marius snuck into his castle last night and visited Princess Cosette in the gardens. He now has Prince Marius prisoner and won't set him free unless . . ."
"Unless what?!"
"Unless you win the war."
"Oh."
Enjolras turned to his brothers. "The revolution is postponed. We fight now for our brother, for our kingdom, for our people, for our honor!"
"YEAH!"
"Laigle, go let Combeferre out of the dungeons."
"Why didn't we do that from the beginning?" Feuilly asked.
"It would have meant nothing. We needed the king to release him, to make it official."
"I'm your father, not the king, you ungrateful wretch!"
They took the barricade apart, but no sooner had they pushed the golden organ aside, than Javert flew upon the prince closest to him, who happened to be Grantaire. "TO THE DUN-"
"Not so fast, Javert," said the king with as much calm as he could. "The princes are needed for something else."
"Yes!" Courfeyrac cried. "Leading the troops into battle!"
"Yes," agreed the king a little sadly. Already he had forgotten being forcibly trapped in his study by his own sons, and now the thought of his dear boys going to war sickened him (the queen later found five more gray hairs).
Javert growled and shook Grantaire. "But when you return-"
And so Jehan, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, Grantaire, Laigle, Combeferre, and Enjolras set off to lead their father's army into battle against the forces of King Valjean, all for the sake of silly little brother Marius, singing "One Day More" the whole way. Mary-Sue did not stop weeping after their departure, and she had to be confined to her room for the sanity of the whole castle. Éponine mysteriously disappeared, but since she was only a scullery maid, no one noticed much.
Couriers kept the castle informed about the state of the war.
"Prince Enjolras made a dashing charge into the enemy lines, and the brilliant glow of his hair rendered them all blind a couple minutes, allowing for a minor victory."
"Prince Courfeyrac defeated a small battalion of the enemy nearly single-handedly this morning."
"Prince Feuilly somehow rallied all the enemy horses to our side today, and chaos ensued as the equines did all our work for us by bucking off their riders and trampling them."
"Prince Combeferre got distracted by a moth as he was leading us into battle yesterday and nearly got us all killed."
"Prince Laigle fell off his horse five times and is now unable to continue fighting."
The king crumpled the two latest messages and threw them at the courier. "Don't you dare bring me any more updates like these!"
And so the courier didn't, not even when Prince Enjolras was gravely wounded in the last battle.
About three weeks after the princes left, the couriers brought the news that Valjean had surrendered and released Marius. The king anxiously awaited the return of his sons. Things had not gone so well while they were absent; Prince Joly's condition had worsened, and the queen hardly left his side. The physicians said the young prince was dying. In a last ditch effort, the king had sent for a world-renowned doctor from five kingdoms over.
On the second day since the victory, the eight princes returned, all of them well except for Laigle with his two broken arms and legs and Enjolras, who was riding in front of Combeferre, unconscious from a severe head wound. Éponine also came back with them, dressed as a man. (She had hoped to rescue Marius while the others were fighting, and thus win his affection, but she hadn't been able to scale the walls of the castle.) The king probably would have punished her, except he was too preoccupied with Enjolras. He frantically ordered the world-renowned physician to tend to him before Joly. But despite the physician's best efforts, the third-youngest prince worsened, caught a fever, and died the third day.
The castle fell into a deep shadow. Even Mary-Sue became quite solemn for once and restrained herself from singing. Grantaire no longer drank, but he also no longer smiled or laughed or even talked, and remained in his room. The rest of the king's hair went gray as he struggled with grief, Joly's delicate health, and the melancholy state of his family.
Attempting to restore some happiness, he sent for Combeferre and Éponine, and pardoned Combeferre. "You may marry that scullery maid if you wish, 'Ferre."
"She loves Marius, not me," Combeferre mumbled.
"Actually," said Éponine hesitantly, "seeing how a war was fought on account of Marius and the Princess Cosette, I think it would just be best if I forgot about him. Besides," and she turned and threw her arms around Combeferre's neck, "I've gotten quite used to snuggling with you."
The king gagged.
They had the wedding the next day in the same cathedral Jehan and Mary-Sue were married in. (It was actually going to a double wedding because Courfeyrac had finally proposed to Esmeralda. Marius pouted about not being able to marry Cosette, whom he learned was engaged to some guy named Theodule. The king had asked Laigle if he wanted to marry Musichetta the same day, but Laigle was as indecisive as Musichetta, and didn't want to wed her "behind Joly's back", as he put it.) Éponine and Esmeralda made quite the sight, both born dirt-poor and now walking down the aisle to their princes dressed like princesses. The vows made, Courfeyrac and Combeferre leaned in to kiss their brides, when the doors of the cathedral flew open.
Bahorel had returned, still clad in nothing but his loincloth. With him was his wood nymph wife, Azelma, who held a tiny baby in her arms. He strode down the length of the cathedral and bowed before his parents and his brothers. "Bahorel!" they cried and rushed into his embrace. "I heard about Enjolras," Bahorel whispered. "I meant to come sooner, but Azelma and Gavroche needed me."
"Never mind that, brother," said Combeferre, smiling sadly. "It is wonderful that you are here with us again."
The king approached his second-eldest hesitantly, but he needn't have worried, for Bahorel had long since forgiven him, and father and son embraced like of old. Mary-Sue broke into noisy tears, and Jehan took her outside. Then Bahorel turned to his brothers and said, "Now go kiss your girls, Courf and 'Ferre!"
And so now everyone was happy, except for Marius.
The day after the wedding, the world-renowned doctor rushed into the king's study from Joly's room, his face pale. The king panicked. The physician said, "Your highness, I have diagnosed Prince Joly. This is a very grave situation."
"Yes?"
"A most fatal disease. Thankfully, it is his only illness."
"YES?!"
The doctor shook his head. "Prince Joly suffers from acute hypochondria."
The king froze with his fists still raised in agony as he processed this information. Then he shook with rage. "So he's been in perfect health these past TWO YEARS?!"
"Yes, my liege."
Well, in any case, the king's rage didn't last long, and Joly and Musichetta married soon after.
They all lived happily ever after, those nine princes. Jehan and Mary-Sue had ten children; the eldest boy they named Enjolras. Bahorel continued his wild rambles with Azelma and Gavroche, but he returned more often to the castle. Courfeyrac went out among the people with Esmeralda, playing with the children, talking to the women, and helping the men. Feuilly never married and traveled far and wide on his horses, painting old buildings with his lovely equines; Patria became a world-class show-jumper. Grantaire never married either, wrote a biography on Enjolras, and adopted a hobby in candle-making. Laigle continued falling down stairs, but he did so joyfully and eventually married a princess, much to the king's relief. Combeferre and Éponine had three children and moved away from the castle to a little cottage in the country. Marius sulked for a very long time, and probably would have become the only one who didn't live happily ever after, except Feuilly offered to take him along on his travels, and for all we know they are happily wandering around in Poland. And Joly and Musichetta had eleven children - but only after Joly was convinced his acute hypochondria (which he was sure was the worst disease ever) wasn't catching.
And so the king made his peace with his sons, and when he died at a good ripe old age, Prince Jehan became king, and Princess Maria-Suzette became queen of the great and good kingdom.
Fin