Oki-doki! My next fanfic to keep me occupied when I'm not doing anything! Little bits of romance, lots of drama, and, well, a whole lot of 'what if's?'. Beware—I'll try to write as much as I can, but there are times when I can lag. I'm not yet certain where this plot is going, but hopefully it will turn out alright. (Hey, I only write outlines for school stuff! :D)
Hope you enjoy! Your humble servant, etc.
Chapter One
Marius mourned. What else was there to do? His heavenly Lark was gone, and with her had flown all that was meaningful in his life. He was never hungry—food was distasteful to him. He took no pleasure in visiting the ABC café and its revolutionary students. Beautiful things were, in his eyes, no longer beautiful. Meaningless! Meaningless! Life was meaningless! cried his soul. And so he mourned.
When a man believes there is no purpose in life, he comes upon two choices. The first is to live. But living without a purpose is quite different from living with one. So when the man decides to choose this life, he is accepting a life of pleasure that offers no satisfaction, of sorrows that come to nothing. The other choice is eternal blackness—in short, death. If life is meaningless, there can be no point in living. That is quite simple.
Marius had this perspective in mind; he decided that life without Cosette meant nothing at all and that there was no use in living when the world was so distasteful in his sight. Then was brought the decision of how he should come to this end. Well! That was simple. He would pay his revolutionary friends a visit.
With this plan firm upon his mind, Marius left his room in a state of disorder, and as he entered the streets, many a person did stare and shake their heads as they saw a young man, hair disheveled and eyes aflame with a desperate passion which made more than one shudder.
He did not see their stares.
Someone joined him in his walk. It was Eponine. He payed no attention.
"Monsieur?"
He did not answer.
She looked at him intently before saying quietly, "How sad he is! If only…" The thoughtful attitude in which she spoke, as if she had been alone, caused Marius to look up:
"If only?"
"It is nothing."
They walked in silence; the girl continued to watch him keenly. There was something in his dejected, reckless manner that seemed to fill her with wonder. Suddenly she started.
"Oh!"
"What is it?" he asked without curiousity.
She looked at him with something that resembled a wild, alarmed gaze and did not answer, which only resulted in annoying her companion.
"Well! Don't tell me then! There is no use anyway. Meaningless!" cried the young man with a passionate despair that seemed to frighten her even more.
"Where are you going?"
"To the ABC café."
"Why?" and then after a pause, "they are not there anymore, monsieur."
He stopped walking. "What! And where have they gone then?"
"Do you really want to know?" she asked sadly.
"Yes!"
There was an unmistakable reluctance as the young gamine led the way to the barricade.
…
"Eponine! Say, what's a pretty girl like you doing here in this dangerous place, eh?"
"Grantaire!" was the irritated, whispered reply, as the girl tried to silence him with a quick movement of her finger to her lips. He only laughed louder.
"Really, 'Ponine, you shouldn't be here," said he, only slightly more serious.
"Why not? Monsieur Marius is here, so why shouldn't I be?" retorted the bold girl.
"Everyone knows that fool is only looking for a way to get himself killed," was the irritated answer, followed by a sharp laugh.
She turned to look at him closely. "Well! You aren't drunk!" said she with some surprise.
"What's that to you?"
She answered with a shrug of her thin shoulders. "I'll be going then. Good luck to you, Grantaire!" She nodded and began to walk away, but Grantaire sighed and caught her hand before she could slip away.
"Go back to your home, Eponine! It's not safe for women here!"
"Like I said, I'm not going."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
They looked at each other angrily, resembling more of a pair of stubborn, little miscreants than a drunk skeptic and a misfortunate lover. Before Grantaire could argue with her, Eponine's sharp eye caught sight of Marius wandering around the barricade and she was gone before the sober drunkard could stop her.
Marius looked more alive and more reckless than ever, but at least he was aware of her. "Eponine! What are you doing here? Oh, now I remember. It was you who brought me here, wasn't it? Well! Get out before the shooting starts!"
He did not see her smile in pleasure, nor hear her happy remarks, for an idea began creeping slowly upon him, and he grasped her hand and cried:
"Oh! Now I know you are heaven sent! Here, give this letter to Cosette. Hopefully she is still there! Pray that she will be there, 'Ponine!" With that, he handed the parchment and ran away, clasping his breast in a passion and leaving a mournful Eponine behind him.
"Well?"
"Oh! It's only you, Grantaire."
"Well?" he asked persistently.
"Well what?"
"Will you give the letter to his beloved?"
"Yes," sighed she, "I suppose I must. But how can I? No, he will not know if I tear the letter to pieces—he will be dead, and so will I—"
"Eponine!" began Grantaire indignantly.
She continued as if she had not heard a thing, "And Cosette will leave and never return, so they will be better without additional sorrow. But how can I do such a terrible thing? It is terrible isn't it? Yes, and you know it! I will do it for him." There was another sigh at the end of this burst which seemed to have come from an internal struggle.
"So you will do it?"
"Yes." A tear and one more little sigh escaped her, and she looked at Grantaire apprehensively; he seemed occupied with something on the floor, and she took the opportunity to swiftly wipe the tear away with her dirty sleeve. "Well, goodbye Grantaire. Be careful," and she hurried away to complete her errand.
…
Grantaire watched her go with a somewhat melancholy air. "Poor girl," he muttered to himself, his eyes remaining fixed upon the place she had stood last.
The drunkard had known Eponine ever since the young girl had moved with her family, the Thenardiers, to Paris. They both knew what it meant to love without being loved, though their loves were quite different—Grantaire's being his admiration in the revolutionary leader's determination and certainty. What contrasted strongly between the two friends, as one might as well term them, was that while Grantaire drowned his sorrows in drinking, Eponine suffered without any sort of consolation.
But their similarities being quite dominant, the two struck up a friendship at once, though Eponine did not approve of the young man's methods of comfort.
Having known the young Thenardier girl for many years, Grantaire was a witness of the transformation Eponine underwent once she met Monsieur Marius. He observed first the happiness the meeting brought, the high spirits and cheerful manner in which she told him of her new friend, and then the great depression and misery that was synchronous with the arrival of Cosette into Marius's life.
Grantaire, knowing himself the nature of this grief, pitied Eponine. And when he whispered to himself, "Poor girl,", the words were filled with all the genuine compassion the sober drunkard could offer.
