Chapter 1

The Parisian sky was grasping on to the last few moments of day, maintaining a golden dusk throughout the streets and alleyways of the city. On one such street, a young woman concentrated very hard on placing each foot in front of the other. Like all young women, Eponine had once been a young girl. In fact, it had been just last month that she had found herself ready and willing to take her Father's absurd orders, as innocent and naïve as an untrained puppy. But freedom changes a person. It had changed the entire city, as far as Eponine could tell. Students were bursting with fiery passion, men were walking taller and women were happily busier. It seemed a new sense of confidence had found its way into the deepest corners of Paris, right beneath the French Enforcements' noses.

Eponine had changed with the rest of the city. She had grown smarter, straighter, more aware. She wasn't the little girl who lingered by her Father's feet anymore. In fact, his requests seemed altogether outrageous to her now. Pretending to be starving just to earn an extra sou, petty thievery in the dead of night. It was childish and greedy. Though there were days that left her for want of another meal, she no longer resorted to stealing and trickery. There were more important issues at hand than her selfish needs.

But Eponine was being selfish. As she let each foot fall in front of the other on the decaying brick path, she was not planning or scheming or thinking up new ways to help the cause. She was dreaming, something she didn't often let herself do. She was dreaming not of the revolution, but of a revolutionary.

Marius Pontmercy was one of the leading students who met in the ABC Café to plan the rebellion, next in line to Enjolras. There had been many a day Eponine had sat in on the meetings, wanting only to be a part of something bigger than herself. But as selfless plans often do, her idea had turned into something entirely too selfish. She found herself listening not to the passionate cries of freedom that burned in all of the students, but the cadence of Marius's voice as he spoke to the group. She watched as he grinned, laughed, spoke. He had even made conversation with her before, noticing that she was one of the few women to take interest in the revolution.

Soon, her attendance was no longer determined by the height of her passion, but the height of her craving for Marius. Eponine knew it was horrid of her to keep pretending, lusting after a schoolboy with fire in his eyes. But there was something so seductive about the way he seemed to invigorate the rest of the revolutionaries that she could not bare to stay away from.

It was the ABC Café that Eponine was headed towards now, though slowly and without urgency. The meeting was not scheduled until after dusk, and the last few rays of sunlight still whispered at the darkening sky.

"You there," a sharp voice interrupted her trivial daydreaming. "What are you doing alone at this hour?"

Eponine turned to find the Inspector that everyone so feared standing mere feet away from her. She instantly felt stupid for being so careless. Of course it would look strange for a woman to be out now, on the verge of night.

"I was just headed home, Monsieur," she answered with a polite nod.

"I'll escort you, then," Javert closed the gap between them. Eponine felt her pulse quicken as the Inspector came within touching distance. There were countless things she had done in her life to earn her a beating and an arrest from this man, but here he was escorting her home without any obvious intentions of doing either. There was, of course, the small dilemma of the truth.

Eponine had not been heading home. In fact, she had been heading the complete opposite direction of home. She realized this would become quite apparent to the Inspector once they continued on their way, or once she turned around to correct herself. In the moment's panic, she remembered that Enjolras lived on this street. He resided in a small apartment above the bakery, the address of which every revolutionary had been given to store weaponry and ammunition for the inevitable day of war.

If she could just get Javert to take her to the apartment without going inside, she could wait until she knew the ABC meeting was close to finishing and return home. Intent on this plan, Eponine continued walking in the direction she had taken originally. Javert strode by her side, face set in a permanent grimace.

After a few moments of silence passed, Eponine cautiously opened her mouth.

"What brings you to this part of town, Inspector?"

"Do not question me," he snapped, his eyes staying fixated on the road ahead.

"Je suis désolé," Eponine's cheeks flushed as she apologized. She remained silent for the rest of the walk, thinking it better to not speak unless spoken to with the formidable policeman.

By the time they reached the bakery, the light had melted completely away from the sky, leaving it black and starless. Eponine turned to Javert.

"It's just above here. Thank you very much for your company,"

"I should see you up,"

"That really isn't necessary, but thank you. I shouldn't have been out so late," Eponine turned to open the door to the bakery, but froze when she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. Suddenly, she could feel the stale breath and stubbly cheek of the Inspector right against her ear.

"You're not going to win, Thendardiér. You and your friends are playing with fire and you're going to get burned. You'd do well to distinguish the flame before the French turn it on you," he growled.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Eponine shuddered as she tried to get the words to come out somewhat comprehensively.

"Then why on earth did you have me escort you to Monsieur Enjolras's residence?"

Javert pulled away from Eponine's shivering body and stood up straight with his hands dutifully behind his back.

"Bonne nuit," With that, Javert turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the taste of his sadistic good night to simmer between Eponine's lips.

For a moment, the young woman couldn't move a muscle. She stayed impenetrable halfway through the door to the bakery, unable to breathe or speak or blink. Finally, after a particularly chilly gust of wind, she shook herself into reality. Her heart still pounding from the brief encounter, Eponine raced up the stairs and rushed into Enjolras's small apartment. She slammed the door and locked it before sliding down to the floor, her back against the wood.

What was she to do?