This is just an idea that I had about those two. I think that this is accurate historically (more or less), since this was all the information that I could get from Wikipedia. Anyways, I hope that you enjoy!
Disclaimer: All of the characters are historical, so I don't own them. Obviously.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
I gently sat down on the chair that was situated right in front of the wooden desk where I was so accustomed to work at. It was particularly late, and it was a mystery, even for me, why I still was awake at this time. I closed my eyes and attempted to make the throbbing headache that pounded continuously inside my head disappear entirely, but not managing to succeed in any way. Defeated, I opened my eyes again and turned my gaze to the letter that I had received today and that had been sent by a man who lived in the provinces who I was sure that I hadn't met in my entire life.
I fidgeted with the letter for a while, wondering if I should open it right now or instead wait until tomorrow or another time. It was late and I could already feel Morpheus claiming me and I wasn't sure if it would be a good idea to read this letter now.
"Louis de Saint-Just…" I muttered absentmindedly as I reread the name of the person who had just sent it.
I shook my head quickly and opened the letter, deciding to do this now instead of leaving it for later. I gently took out from the worn out envelope the neatly folded paper that could be found inside it, unfolded it and started reading quickly the neatly written words that composed the letter.
"Youwhoupholdourtotteringcountryagainstthetorrentofdespotismandintrigue,youwhomIknow,asIknowGod,onlythroughhismiracles—itistoyou,Monsieur,thatIaddressmyself,toentreatyoutounitewithmeinsavingmypoorland.Idoknowyou,butyouareagreatman.Youarenotmerelythedeputyofaprovince;youarethedeputyoftheRepublicandofmankind…"
I smiled as I read it. It was full of praise, but that wasn't just it. There was something about it that made it better than all of the others that I had received previously to ask me similar things. This wasn't just any ordinary young man, and that was plain obvious for me and everyone else to see. There was something about this letter that made it worth replying to. I deposited the letter carefully on the wooden desk and got hold of my pen and of some paper, decided to reply to the young man who had sent me this letter immediately. I quickly wrote the first words and let the rest flow out of me more naturally, not paying any attention to the bark of the dogs that could be hard from the street or to the annoying humidity that crept inside every single part of this room, ignoring just how important the man that I was replying to would be for the revolution, as a friend and as a political ally in the future.