Chapter 1 -
Ils Parlent de Revolution
(They Talk of Revolution)
Aceline walked the cobblestone streets of saint Michele, the heels of her brown leather boots clicking on the stone. She had walked these streets since she was only a child of four years, and she knew them well. Her mass of brown curls bounced on her shoulders, and her blue-green eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as they darted from stall to stall, and her dirt-covered hand darted out from underneath her shall and nabbed a small roll of bread, tucking it inside one of her pockets. She grinned in spite of herself and walked on, the bustle of the marketplace bursting all around her. She stopped at a tall and rather wobbly wooden building and climbed the equally wobbly staircase. She stopped at the door, leaning against the frame and listening to the shouts of the men inside,
"The time is near!"
"We'll cut those fat ones down to size!
"How long until the barricades arrive?"
She smirked, glancing around at all the men seated around the cafe. Enjolras at the front, shouting with enthusiasm, his eyes a light; Marius at his side, like always. All of the rest of the students were gathered around them, echoing their cries. Her eyes settled on one boy among their ranks, one considerably shorter than the rest of them, his hat high on his head. He was shouting just as loud as the rest of them, and her face split into a wide smile. Her 'Vroche. She laughed softly to herself and walked forward, hands on her hips. Some of the students heard her and turned around, a few of them smiled with recognition and waved her over. She smiled back and waited for Enjolras to finish. She had to admit, his words were convincing, but the topic made her worried. Revolution never ended well for countries, her Father had told her so. Even if the revolution did succeed, so many lives were lost. The students seemed oblivious to this, however, and their eyes were alight with a flame that was so scarce in these times. She frowned and took a large bite of her bread, she couldn't imagine what she would do if they all died. It would be like Father all over again, not being to eat or sleep, and feeling like he had taken her soul with him. She shuddered at the memories of these dark times and took another bite of bread. The meeting seemed to be over, the loud shouting was over and they were chatting quietly now. She walked over to their table,
"-won't know wha' hit them," Grantaire finished, his voice slurred with drink. Marius was staring at her, she raised an eyebrow quizzically.
"Where'd you get that bread?" he questioned, his voice echoing over the conversation. They all stopped and turned to look at her. She colored slightly at all the attention,
"Stole it," she said proudly, lifting her head high. "Them shopkeepers didn't notice nothing." Gavroche grinned at her, and she smiled back.
"Even when the times are tough, you shouldn't start stealing. What if you were caught?"
She stared at him,
"I wouldn't get caught. Besides, we have no money. We're starving," she said, slightly ashamed.
"We're all starving because of those bloody taxes. I can't rest until Louis is in his proper place," said Courfeyrac. Others mumbled their agreement, but Marius remained silent.
"I agree, Louis is a beef-head, but you can't seriously think you're going to win this! The French Guard against the poor of Saint Michele?! You'll be finished in days!" she continued, almost desperately, "Don't waste your lives for nothing."
"Nothing?!" cried Courfeyrac, "T'aint for nothing! Even if we perish, others will rise to take our places, and the king will be finished at last!"
Aceline let out a sigh,
"It's your choice, even though I think you're all makin' a big mistake." Some of the students were now glaring at her for crushing their spirit. She glared right back, unafraid.
"Well, uh, me and 'Line should go now. We got...stuff to do," said Gavroche hurriedly, he grabbed Aceline's hand, dragging her out of the cafe. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs he spun her around and grabbed her shoulders,
"The hell were you thinking?! They're gonna think you're a traitor now!" he hissed. She glared back at him,
"I'm a traitor?! You're the ones who are revolting!" she cried, incredulous, "It's a waste, 'Vroche, a waste of lives!"
"It ain't a waste! Even if we die, they'll be weaker!"
"We?! What do you mean, we?!" said Aceline, her voice shaking with anger. Gavroche just stared at her,
"I'm gonna fight, 'Line."
Her mouth dropped open,
"No you're not! I..I won't let you! Don't you see, 'Vroche? If you fight, you're going to die."
"I don't care if I do die. Besides, 'Line, you can't decide what I do and don't do!"
"Maybe I can't, but I'm not gonna sit here and watch youget shot!" she was screaming now. Gavroche just stood there, dumbstruck. Aceline took a deep breath and continued in a softer voice,
"If you're gonna fight, then..then I'll fight too."
"No. 'Line, you can't," he said gravely.
"And why not?!" she cried, crossing her arms; "Is it because I'm a girl?" she sneered. Gavroche winced,
"Nooo...I jus' don't want to see you hurt.."
"And I don't want to see you hurt either! So, it's a compromise. Deal?" she said, getting impatient.
"...Deal," said Gavroche, weary.
"Right then, it's settled," said Aceline, business-like. Gavroche sighed and adjusted his hat,
"You should go home...your Mother's probably waiting."
Aceline just nodded,
"See you tomorrow?"
"'Course."
She waved good-bye and walked back home. She swung open the door and stomped up the rickety stairs, still upset. She continued to fume as she undressed and slipped into bed, and dreamt of war as she slept.
A/N: 10 reviews for the next chapter-
