"Why him?"
The woman stared silently off into the distance, eerily still, but Grantaire hadn't really expected a response. Still, he had to try.
"What do you want? They sweat and cry and bleed for you, and for what? Why?"
This time, the elegant head turned toward him, large eyes blinking gravely. The voice, when it issued, was stately and surprisingly deep. "I want my people to live safe and free."
Grantaire snorted. Safety and freedom were relative things, and Her people would simultaneously never feel just how much they lacked and never be satisfied with what they had.
"And your champion? What of his safety? He endangers himself, enslaves himself for you. What do you give him? What do you want of him?"
Patria did not deign to answer, and Grantaire slammed a furious fist into the wall. He couldn't do it. He would argue until he was blue in the face for Enjolras' life, but it was no use. Much as he longed to, he couldn't be the champion's champion.