What's Taken For Granted
The Rue de la Chenverrerie was an avoided street. People spread rumors that the blood of a battle that had taken place a year ago was still stained on the pavement, and so whoever were to cross that street would be haunted by the ghosts of the men, women and children who had died in a vain attempt for freedom. So perhaps it was surprising to see a shady figure standing before what used to be called the Cafe Musain. A few people saw the shade and called out to it, but it had not responded. Eventually, they left in haste for perhaps it was a phantom of the past looking for a new victim.
Of course it was not a ghost, nor was it a shade or a phantom. It was a man, dressed all in black as if he were attending a funeral. He stood outside the Musain, and eventually entered it. The interior of this building was scattered with broken chairs and tables. The floor was dusty with gunpowder and the walls were charred. If you were to enter that Cafe with this man right now, you would find it unappealing, empty and teared down to pieces, the man however thought differently. Were you to ask him what he saw, he would just smile and say, "Those who I have forgotten until now."
This is what Marius Pontmercy saw in the ruined Musain.
The cafe was not ill-lighted, the place shone brightly for candles were placed on each table, but there was no need for them because it was daytime and sunlight streamed into the building through the beautiful glass panes. As we have stated earlier, Marius said (though not directly) that the Musain was not empty. He did not see blank emptiness, he saw people, and not just normal passerby, but the members of the Les Amis. His friends.
Grantaire, the drunkard, sat in a daze in the corner. He held a bottle of absinthe in his hand and he spoke to it, though nobody understood the words he spoke because his speech was slurred and he only mumbled nonsense. Jean Prouvaire sat, staring out the window and looking at the street. No doubt he was forming a picture in his mind which he would write down in the form of poetry later on. Feuilly, Courfeyrac and Combeferre were listening to the gamin, Gavroche who was teaching them both a song entitled 10 Little Bullets. Enjolras practiced a speech for the people in the corner opposite Grantaire, he paced around an invisible box muttering sentences which made sense to no one but the Amis.
"Pontmercy…I wondered when I would be seeing you again…" said Jehan, he abandoned the window and strode over to Marius, "It has been quite a while since we last spoke with each other."
The others, now alert of Marius' presence in the room, began smiling or waving greetings at him excepting Grantaire and Enjolras who stayed where they were, and Gavroche who glared at Marius for interrupting him when Feuilly had finally memorized the first verse of the song.
"So, where have you been Pontmercy? On another stroll with your mistress…Colette, was it?" Courfeyrac asked warmly. Marius smiled grimly, "Cosette, and honestly, I don't know whether I fancy her as much as I did in the past."
"Wha' happened? Uh…she too feisty fo' you?" Grantaire spoke, though his words were barely legible through the roughness of his throat because of the brandy, and the slur of his words because of the wine.
"No, no, she would never do such a thing. It's just…the woman trails me like a puppy begging for food, she follows me wherever I go, in fact I don't even know whether she makes her own decisions or not because she always follows and agrees to whatever I say that it becomes quite troubling. What sort of a woman would follow whatever her husband would say and never have any disagreements?" Marius said, frowning. Combeferre simply laughed and asked what was wrong with a lady who never fought with her husband and remarked that she was most likely perfect.
"That must be it," Marius sighed, "She is too perfect. I may not be the bravest of The Amis, but sometimes even I could use a good argument now and then…" Then he heard a voice mutter behind him, "Ah, the problems of the bourgeois." He turned around, wondering why a woman would be allowed inside the secret compartment of the cafe and instead of seeing a foreign, unfamiliar person, he saw no other than Eponine Thenardier.
"Good evening to you, M'sieur Marius." she fidgeted her fingers, "I don't think you would remember me, and if you did, you wouldn't even want to speak to me for what I did so perhaps I should just leave." she turned swiftly but Marius caught her arm and said, "Why would I not remember you? Your name is Eponine, I believe, and what is it that you did that would make me behave in such a disrespectful way to a woman?"
"I led you to your death at the barricades, Monsieur, I told you that your friends were in need of your help and in doing so, leadin' you away from that Lark, Cosette." for a gamine of the streets, she spoke with the elegance of the bourgeois except for that slight argot accent that slipped at the end of her sentence.
"Ah," Marius said, letting go of Eponine's arm, "Don't fret, Mademoiselle Eponine, all is forgiven." The gamine girl smiled at being referred to as Mademoiselle, "No, M'sieur, just call me Eponine."
"Marius?" another feminine voice called. Marius glanced at the direction of the voice and frowned. He would recognize those wide, blue eyes anywhere. It was Cosette, "Marius, come on. What are you doing in here?"
"I…speaking to the Les Amis." he replied.
"Speaking to the…no, Marius, there's no one here. Your friends aren't here…they're gone, remember?" she spoke the words softly and carefully. Marius frowned, "Gone? No, no they're just-" then he stopped and it all came back to him. The bloody barricade, his friends falling, one by one, retreating back into the Cafe Musain, knowing they would all die… he winced at the memories, and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, all he saw was a broken, ill-lighted room full of fallen furniture. Cosette stood at the door, staring at him intently, "Come on, Marius we must go."
"Alright." he said, moving as fast as he could to get away from the Musain…to get away from the pain.
"Why is it that you went there? You know it only holds the pain and the fallen men who had died in a time long ago. It was not very clever of you to return…" Cosette said, they had hailed a carriage home. "Rue de Lamarque, please, Monsieur." she said to the man driving it.
Marius sighed as he entered the carriage and said the words that had first entered his mind (and for most of us, the first thought is the most truthful), "I don't know the exact reason why I went there…but you're wrong, the Musain does not hold pain, it holds happiness, and those who had passed away were not fallen men, but fallen family."
Cosette pretended not to have heard, and they rode along to the Rue de Lamarque in silence.
Author's Note
Okay, you guys, I know it's been a year or two since I actually posted something, but please forgive my long hiatus. I had to concentrate on a lot of things-theater, education, and family, so again I ask for your forgiveness. I know this isn't what I normally write, but listen: I've been a Les Miserables fan (also known as a Mizzie) for about 3 years now and I really wanted to make a fanfiction about it, but no ideas came until now. Please enjoy the one-shot as an apology for my absence.
Les Miserables (c) Victor Hugo