This Anastasia AU was written for the amazing tomorrowatdawn on Tumblr.
Her parents stole so much from the royals during the months they worked at the palace that it was a miracle they didn't get fired before the riots started. Maybe her work in the kitchens helped - even though she was a little brat, the cook was pretty happy with her. She was "good help, for a scrawny brat", or so the old man said.
And so she worked as hard as she could, ignoring the little prince whenever he came into the kitchen for his daily whatever. He was a stupid distraction, always wanting to talk to the servants - she wasn't here for talking, she was here to work. While he ranted about child labor - he was perhaps eleven summers old himself - she just mixed ingredients and carried bags of flour around the kitchen.
Everything came to a terrible end when the rebels came. Sure, the king wasn't doing a great job at setting up some kind of democracy, but to have the entire royal family murdered? Well, all but one, seeing as she pushed the golden prince into a linen cupboard that lead to the only secret passage she knew of.
"Get out of here," she ordered as she used her thin arms to push him into the passageway.
"Thank you," he stammered as she closed the trap door behind him.
When the rebels found her, she was not treated well. She was not rewarded with her freedom, as she had once been promised. Her parents were long gone, her siblings with them on the trail to freedom. She wouldn't be free for a long while, beaten harshly by rebels who never made exceptions for children. How could they make exceptions when she let the prince escape the castle?
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It took ten years for the rumors to resurface. Clearly she'd been overestimating the bored people of the country. Why were they not rioting in the streets after a revolution only turned into a dictatorship? Why were they just gossiping now, talking about the mysterious golden-haired prince who had escaped that night?
No one was supposed to know - but she did. She would always remember, rubbing her achy bones that always ached in the winter cold. Childhood beatings left her not quite whole.
At nineteen summers, she was a wicked woman, a thief who stole from anyone associated with the dictator who'd taken the throne by bloodshed and pain. She would never fall in line, and while she was not stupid enough to associate herself with the rebels who were hiding all around the country, she rebelled in her own way.
She probably should have picked up the prince's trail sooner, but now there was actually a substantial reward for his delivery to the king of the neighboring country: his uncle, the man who was once Jean Valjean until he wed the beautiful princess Fantine. She would do just about anything to get that kind of money. That kind of money meant safety, enough to buy a large house in Valjean's kingdom where she could spend the rest of her days without having to look over her shoulder all the time.
The money was the only reason why she was deep into the Wicked Woods, named for the disproportionate amount of crime happening there. She cursed her aching feet as she shuffled deeper and deeper into the forest.
"Halt," a deep voice called out, and she sighed heavily.
"I don't have anything worth stealing," she announced for the umpteenth time. "Unless you want a dirty pair of women's clothing."
There was laughter then, a dark-haired young man fell out of the tall tree on her left because he was laughing too loudly. She raised a single dark eyebrow at the sight, but immediately turned her face back to neutral when she spotted golden curls in the distance.
"I hope your friend is okay, Enjolras," her bravery could be confused with stupidity.
"Capture her," his voice had understandably deepened over the year. "How do you know my name?"
With a heavy sigh, she held out her hands for the restraints they would undoubtedly force upon her. She wondered if they would try to cover her eyes as well. Not being able to see was not that much of a deterrent to her - she just needed to be able to hear everything.
"Is that any kind of thanks to the woman who saved your life?" she figured that just putting it on the table now was the best way to handle it. "I am appalled at your manners, Highness."
Judging by the loud curses that followed, his royal assholeness managed to pick up something from the kitchen back in the day. The restraints were still coming closer, and she wondered if the great Enjolras would dare to call a stop to that for her benefit. Would he even still remember her? Would he still give a damn?
"I do not believe you," his answer was simple.
"Great," she rolled her eyes. "Well, if you could hurry up and believe me, I'm here to take you to your uncle. He wants to see you, and I need the money. Thanks so much."
Laughing guy had managed to stand up, even though he was still terribly amused by the whole situation. He was holding his stomach with one hand, and fixing his dark curls with the other. From between the trees she could see the rest of the prince's men make their approach. They did not scare her.
"Did you really think it would be that easy?" the golden prince lead the approach. "I have vowed not to return to the palace."
"You wouldn't have to," she argued just for the sake of arguing. "I would return you to your uncle, and you could do whatever you wanted after that. I just need the money."
Honesty was the best policy, or so she'd heard once upon a time. Surely she had not learned that particular lesson from her criminal parents. Maybe she had picked it up from the cook, who tried to fill in the gaps in her education in the quiet lulls in the kitchen.
"Such a true heroine," the prince found it alright to mock her.
"I wouldn't call you a hero," her infamous anger flared up. "Or perhaps not even a true prince - because a true prince would never deny the woman who saved his miserable life."
And what had he done with that life since then? Clearly he'd become the leader of a band of rebel misfits that merely hid in the woods. Wow, he led such a glamorous life these days - when he could have had it all - still could - if only he'd visited his uncle and just accepted his true identity. Because while she was not terribly happy as a servant, that was nothing compared to the tyranny of their country's current leader. And this idiot might be able to change it, only he refuses to do something serious.
Why would he not take back his country? People would welcome the return of the monarchy if it meant they were rid of the dictator running it! Did the idiot really not understand that?
"Do you even have any idea what is going on in your country?" she decided that yelling at him was the best way to get her message through to him. "The so-called rebels who killed your family took over and ruined it. There's a dictator on the throne, playing at being a king when he doesn't understand a damn thing about doing what's best for his people. You have a real shot at disputing his claim over the country, at making things better. And instead you play at being a rebel deep in the woods where you don't make a bit of difference."
Eponine - 100, Enjolras - 0.
"I do not play at being a rebel," his fury became more and more pronounced. "I have done more than you could ever imagine."
"Try me," she crossed her arms and waited impatiently.
The guy who fell from the tree - seriously, weren't they going to introduce themselves to her? - started laughing loudly again, obviously finding the whole situation incredibly amusing. That was just odd - it was not that funny to see Enjolras squandering his birthright. If she'd been in his position…
"So much sexual tension," the dork managed to squeeze out before succumbing to yet another giggle fit. "It's too much!"
Well, that ended the discussion quickly. Enjolras was clearly uncomfortable at the very idea of him having that sort of tension with anyone. Men were such babies.
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Her second attempt didn't go over that much better than the first, and the third didn't have a shot at succeeding either. She still mostly frustrated Enjolras and made curly-haired Courf laugh until he had to excuse himself - but nothing ever came of it.
So she resorted to plan B - convincing his friends. Because if they started believing that Enjolras would change the country for the better if he only tried - well, that meant she actually had a shot at getting that money. And damn it, she needed that money.
Beautiful Jehan turned to her side quickly - he disliked the cruelty some of his friends had resorted to in their fight, and he truly believed Enjolras might stop the bloodshed. His cynical boyfriend followed suit, shrugging and saying that Enjolras probably couldn't make things any worse. Ah, yes, true love.
When even Combeferre, the right hand man, turned to her side, she knew she wouldn't have to wait much longer to leave this camp, and these men. They were kinder to her than she'd expected, but she would still be fine with moving on - she didn't need attachments.
"He'll listen to you," she told Combeferre, weary to her very bones. "This country has gone to the dogs. And I don't care if he just shows his stupid pretty-boy face for five seconds until that asshole is gone… He just needs to smile and wave and act like a nice guy for once!"
Maybe that was beyond the great prince's abilities, but he'd just have to suck it up and deal - for his people. They were still his people, no matter how much he denied it.
"He will listen to you," Combeferre nodded. "You may not believe it, Eponine, but we have heard of you. We have heard about the girl who saved the prince. He just needs some time to realize that he can still reform the country as its prince."
Yes, Combeferre was a very sensible man. She could see why Enjolras had chosen him as his right-hand man. Courfeyrac was there for the occasional lightheartedness and the fresh perspective, but Combeferre was the sensible man of knowledge in every situation. And Eponine herself, she was just the annoyance, the sole woman in this band of men - really, had they not learned that women were at least as strong as men?
Would they ever learn?
"I can, can't I?" Enjolras had found them, and had come to the same realization.
"Yes you can," Combeferre stood beside his brother in arms.
All she had to do now was wait for Enjolras to come to his senses and allow her to take him on a journey to the neighboring country. All she had to do now was keep his sorry self alive for a few days or weeks until they found the King's palace in Montreuil-sur-Mer. It could not be that hard. She could accomplish that much - and she would finally have her money and live a life of peace and solitude. Yes, that was what she wished.
She had never needed friends or a family.
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Two days alone on a horse with prince Enjolras and she was about ready to knock him over the head and hogtie him. She could still bring him to his uncle mostly in one piece - she really wasn't great at horseback riding - and she wouldn't have to deal with his nagging about how her doing this for the money was a heinous crime. That or a detailed explanation of every reform he was going to enact when he was once again the leader of this country.
It was really boring, okay?
"Just shut up," she interrupted another rant. "No one cares."
Yet more points added to her total - she wondered if he ever managed to gain even a single point in her tally. Well, she can't help it if she is just that much better than the great prince Enjolras. Honestly, she didn't want to run a country, and she'd be terrible at it, but she'd be the best advisor the prince had ever had.
"But you do," he'd started seeing right through her and she hated it. "You do care. You want to improve this country, make it a better place. It cannot be all about the money, Eponine."
It was all about the money. Well, not exactly. The money was a means to an end: her own happily ever after with no one bothering her any longer. That was all she wanted, to be left alone, to live in peace instead of in pieces. So why couldn't he just leave her alone? Why couldn't he just leave her be and believe that it was all about the money?
"It can and it is," she tried to cut off that particular subject.
"Such an altruistic heroine you are," Enjolras mocked her easily and harshly.
Altruism was seriously overrated. Altruism was what got her beat up with aching bones when she was only a child. And this asshole didn't have a clue just how much she gave up when she pushed him into the right hallway. He never would, if she had her way.
"Just hold on to me," Enjolras spotted a particularly rough passage they had to traverse.
"Why do you insist on doing this the hard way?" she rolled her eyes and grabbed the saddle instead - too discombobulated by his touch.
Clearly, Enjolras refused to accept her awkwardness, taking her hands and wrapping them around himself, leaving her front pressed tightly to his back on the galloping horse. The days of riding had made her muscles ache, and now her sensitive body was rubbing against his, provoking a much nicer kind of feeling. But it was still very bad news, letting herself feel anything in the presence of this asshole prince.
"I thought you said men were babies," he was grinning now.
"I stand by my judgment," she was basically breathing the words into his ear, that's how close he made them. "You're riding like a maniac, though."
Any kind of riding that involved her having to cling to him for fear of falling off the horse could be classified thusly. She wondered how much worse it would get if they were ever to be pursued by the dictator's forces. Because someone, somehow would hear about the prince coming out of hiding - and that would be bad for both of them. Her bones ached intermittently as a reminder of old pains, and once more she vowed that she would never let herself be hurt in that way, never again.
But he wouldn't hurt her. Enjolras was always prepared to tease and to banter and to bore her to death, but he was not going to hurt her. How she knew that? That was a mystery to her.
"And yet you're smiling," the prince remarked. "I can tell, Eponine."
How? With the special magic he really didn't have? Though, she actually was smiling. Because this asshole was the closest thing she'd had to a friend in years. And that was all he was. Attraction? To that idiot prince? No, that was ridiculous.
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They finally arrived at the palace only to hear that the King was no longer seeing any men claiming to be his step-nephew. He'd long since grown tired of the imposters sent to see him, there only for the reward. No more, he'd said, no more.
And so it was that Eponine and Enjolras made their journey for nothing. Or so it seemed.
"I will go back to my friends," Enjolras was so ready to give up on the whole thing.
"Oh, no, you won't," she dared to pull at his arm. "I won't give up so easily."
Also, they were friends, so he could damn well stick around for a little while longer. He might be able to save a whole country, and yet he was ready to give up? That didn't make sense whatsoever - not for the great rebel Gabriel Enjolras. Prince Gabriel. Her friend, the prince.
Yeah, she was more than a little surprised at that one too.
"What is your plan?" he appeared to be skeptical about the mere existence of said plan.
"Cosette," she replied, not explaining more than that.
She remembered the girl from her days in the castle. The young girl had been a servant once, until she'd been recovered by queen Fantine and her Jean. She had been stolen as a child, and had lived the life of a commoner alongside young Eponine. They'd played hopscotch and jumped rope together once. Surely princess Cosette would remember the little brat she once danced and laughed with.
"Miss Eponine Thenardier requesting an audience with the princess Cosette," she announced herself to the guards. "The princess and I grew up together, and I would love to introduce her to my friend here. We rode for weeks to meet her. "
With just an extra few bats of her long eyelashes, the young guard actually blushed as he sent a young page to look for the princess. She smiled at the poor guy in return - he had no idea just how well she could turn on the charm for the occasion.
"How come you have never been this charming with me?" Gabr-Enjolras was quick to provide a distraction.
"You've never earned it," she bit back just as quickly. "It's charm for charm, buddy."
He laughed then, a full belly laugh that had her entranced with him for just a second. His eyes shone with happiness and his golden curls glinted in the sun and she realized that yes, maybe she was a little bit in love with him.
"The princess is looking forward to your visit," the returning page proclaimed.
She breathed a relieved breath, happy not to spend too much time analyzing her previous thoughts about the prince. It was never going to lead anywhere - no, she was just here to drop him off and collect her reward. Then she could live happily ever after in a house of her own, where no one would bother her.
Though maybe the prince would get an invite occasionally.
"If you would follow me," the page was already getting impatient.
Gabriel's hand on the small of her back was a surprise, and made her all the more conscious of how her ragged clothes must have looked to the people in the palace - not to him, no she was not going to care about that. She didn't care about that.
"Have you ever met the princess before?" she asked Gabr- the prince ever so softly.
"I might have," he shrugged, still touching her. "I do not recall."
Who wouldn't recall the beautiful Cosette? It was strange to her that he'd recall the skinny brat who pushed him into the passageway and not the beautiful girl who'd been revealed as the secret princess. Why? Why would he?
"Eponine," the princess herself ran to them, almost tripping over the hem of her gown. "It is so very lovely to see you. It has been so long since we last spoke."
It was completely unladylike, the way the princess ran to meet them - but Eponine was just reassured that Cosette was still that little girl at heart, the girl who climbed trees in the palace gardens with her to pick apples for the King's dessert. After they'd eaten more than a few first, of course.
"Let me introduce my friend," Eponine was fighting a smile. "This is Gab- prince Gabriel Enjolras. I was not sure if you two would remember each other."
"Eponine," Cosette sighed unhappily. "You know that prince Gabriel is presumed dead. If you really need the money, Father and I would be happy to-"
No. There was no doubt that she was never going to accept that particular offer. She could accept a reward for a job well done, but she could never accept charity, not even from the only person she used to call her friend. Now the prince shared that title.
"I am in fact prince Gabriel," her new friend bowed perfectly. "I vaguely recall you working at our palace. You liked the apples. However, I remember miss Eponine quite well. She refused to help her parents steal - and she saved my life that night. No matter what it cost her. No matter how they beat her, to get her to tell them where I went. She never told them anything."
Her eyes widened and her heart pounded heavily in her chest. She had never told him, had never told anyone what the rebels did to her. She had mentioned some of the basic concepts to Cosette - the few times that she visited, Cosette let her use the hot springs to soak her aching body. But never the details - never. It hurt too much to remember.
"You told him?" Cosette stared into her friend's eyes, surprised. "Eponine you hardly talked about it to me."
"I never told you anything about what happened after," she addressed Gabriel.
The prince looked decidedly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken, but he powered through nonetheless. Funny, because she was the one who actually had to bear all the pain - she was sure he never even looked back once he stepped into the passage.
And why would he?
"I came back," he sighed, as if the words were being forced from his mouth. "Later that night I came back for you. I was worried about what they would do to you if they realized that you had helped me escape. I should have taken you with me."
She took only seconds to realize that he had stepped in close to her again, trying to put his hands on her again. She stepped away and looked at Cosette.
"So, is that enough proof for me to get my reward?" she straightened her back and waited.
"It's more than enough," Cosette sighed.
With that, Gabriel started smiling in her direction. She kept a straight face and excused herself without giving him a chance to come close to her again.
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"Father, do you remember my old friend Eponine?" Cosette smiled merrily as usual.
Jean Valjean had aged quite a bit since she had last seen him. He'd started fading quickly when they lost his dear Fantine, and there appeared to be nothing that could be done to make him feel better.
Perhaps the face of his step-nephew might make a difference.
"It is good to see you again, miss Eponine," the King bowed for her.
She stumbled in her answering curtsey, not used to the formal ways any longer. She had never been good at following protocol and acting like a proper lady. Her attempts tended to make Cosette giggle girlishly and they occasionally made even the King attempt to hide his grin. That was all she needed, really.
"Gabriel, is that you?" King Jean had noticed the statuesque blond at her side.
"Uncle," the prince actually smiled. "It has been a while."
The older man pulled his nephew into a hug that was decidedly frowned upon by proper etiquette. Luckily, the King no longer cared about propriety now that his only nephew - albeit not by blood - was returned to him. His family was now complete again.
"I am so happy you have been returned to us, Gabriel," Jean Valjean had not been this happy in years, and Cosette was following his example.
Eponine knew it was time to go. They no longer needed her there - she rubbed her aching shoulder surreptitiously and took another step back.
She could live without the money.
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"And here I was saving you a dance," he'd found her already. "I promise you will not get dizzy from all the spinning."
She ran away from the castle as soon as she packed her things, and yet he was right outside waiting for her when she found the exit. He was still in his formal gear, only with the top buttons unfastened, giving her a tantalizing glimpse of the skin underneath. Only she wasn't looking there - no sirree, she was not.
"You forgot your reward, Eponine," he reminded her.
Gabriel wasn't speaking harshly; he even sounded rather kind as he held out a heavy pouch filled with coin. She heard the coins clinking together as he gently shook the pouch, trying to taunt her into taking it from his outstretched hand. All she had to do was reach out and grab it, and she could be on her way to living the life she had always dreamed of.
And yet she did not move a single muscle. She couldn't.
"Just go, Highness," she sighed. "Please."
This was not going according to plan, and she just wanted to be out of the city when the King and his daughter realized that she was gone. But if Gabriel had gotten the money, they already knew, and they were aware that she was running away again. She was not sure where she was headed, or where she would end up, but she knew that it would be as far away from the Prince as possible.
Princes did not fall for kitchen girls. And they certainly did not care for, love, or marry them. She really thought she'd grown out of her fantasy phase.
"Not without giving you your money," Gabriel stubbornly spoke from right beside her. "That is why you dragged me from the forest in the first place. Well, you have gotten your wish. Here is the money you are owed."
All he cared about was being fair to her, giving her the money she'd so adamantly fought for. He just wanted to be the kind of royal that his parents would be proud of - she knew that much from his stories on their journey. There was no other reason. There were no feelings coloring his actions - she had to keep remembering that. There was nothing there on his side.
"No thank you," she closed her eyes, not wanting to see him walk away from her.
There was no sound of movement, nothing that told of his feet carrying him away from her, so she kept her eyes closed for a little while longer. She waited a little while longer, and then a few seconds more until she realized that he wasn't intending to leave her. He was staying until she gave him an explanation - and she would never give him that; could never give him that much.
"Get out of here," she forcefully repeated her words from all those years ago.
"I won't thank you for saying that this time," Gabriel understood.
So maybe it was her turn to leave him behind. He certainly was not going to leave her again - damn his stubbornness - and she could not stand here until he wore her down enough to throw her heart on her sleeve and reveal all of her stupid secrets.
"That doesn't matter," she took a deep breath. "Farewell, Gabriel."
It was easier to say goodbye than to deal with the possibility of hope. She had stopped believing in happy endings, and now she would prefer to just avoid any and all possibilities. She could live without the money, and without her friends. The occasional visit was about all she could bear these days. No, people would only disappoint.
"Did you really think I would let you walk away so easily?" the prince's fingers lightly encircle her wrist, giving only the appearance of captivity. "Eponine, surely you would not deprive me of my advisor in these trying times?"
Surely she was easily replaced as his royal advisor. He had many a friend hiding in the woods who would easily step into the position, and probably do a better job of it as well. She was no politician, she was no one special. She was just a kitchen girl who'd done the stupidly brave thing once upon a time. If this was her reward for that moment, she wanted none of it.
"I am sure that Combeferre would rush to your aid," she raised one eyebrow.
"Tell me this one thing, then," Gabriel sighed. "Why the change of mind?"
How could she explain this when she was so scared? How could she lay her heart out on the line for someone who would never reciprocate? Who could never reciprocate because of his royal obligations and the great difference in background and place in the world? She had no place in his life, and she never would. And yet…
And yet she was stubborn enough to at least let him know. No regrets, no secrets. Not from him, not anymore.
"It was more of a change of heart," she sighed, looking up at him from between her lashes.
"Good," he replied, seeing right through her. "That means I'm not alone."
That made no sense. What did that even mean? He was not alone? He was the returned prince of a large country, of course he was not alone. That had nothing to do with the way she'd so stupidly fallen for him. It could not have anything to do with that.
"Would your Royal Highness mind explaining that?" she was lost for words, lost for anything that could make this make sense.
"Because… I," he started to stammer, trying to find the right words.
He was blushing as he gently moved his hand to her cheek. He was hoping that the gesture would be enough to make his intentions known - but she could not let it be that easy. This was not enough for her to start believing in happy endings.
"Because you're the only one I could ever want as my princess," he sighed against her skin.
"I'm no princess," she rolled her eyes at him.
"But you could be," he was still trying to get through to her. "If you wanted to be."
With her eyes open wide, trying to remember everything about this moment, she leaned in for their first kiss, only to be swept off her feet by the prince.
"Gabriel, what are you doing?" she squealed, holding on to him for dear life.
"I promised you a dance," he grinned, pulling her closer to his body. "And princes have to keep their promises."
She pressed a single kiss to his cheek. Oh, this might actually be real.
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So she married the prince - after making him grovel for a good long while - and proved to all the world that kitchen girls could become princesses. And when they'd installed the first democratic government the country had ever seen, and the first successful elections had made the people fall a little bit in love with their new prince, they escaped from the palace, using the same passageway that she had shown him that night.
"Whatever shall you do now, my Prince?" she asked as they breathed in the fresh night air.
"How about we build a little house in the forest?" Gabriel pulled her close. "We could settle close to our friends and live our lives in peace."
That sounded ridiculously perfect - which used to make her ridiculously suspicious, but so far Gabriel had a decent streak going of actually making her happy without the bad things coming back to haunt them. She was starting to get used to no longer being unhappy, and it actually no longer scared her. She was no longer waiting for the metaphorical other shoe to drop.
"That sounds suspiciously like a happy ending," she teased.
"It's only the beginning," he sealed his promise with a kiss.