"The supreme happiness of life consists in the conviction that one is loved; loved for one's own sake-let us say rather, loved in spite of one's self." ~Victor Hugo

"Without me, his world will go on turning," Eponine sang absentmindedly as she wandered through the dirty, narrow streets of Paris, hunched over and shivering from the freezing rain that was pelting down.

As she thought about the words she'd just uttered, a pang struck her heart. She straightened up, as if good posture would enable her fatigued mind to better work through her own puzzling words.

"His world will go on turning." Not would, but will. Eponine gave a twisted smile as the impact of the words struck her, no longer feeling the cold or hunger that constantly gnawed at her inevitably empty stomach.

For Eponine realized now what she had to do, what she wanted to do, the final act that would make her miserable life worth something. She was going to the barricade to find Marius, to deliver the letter from Cosette she'd been withholding, to protect Marius's life with her own. She, Eponine Thenardier, was going to die for Marius Pontmercy.

You would think that Eponine would be frightened at the prospect, but for the first time in her life, she had hope. Eponine was going to do a great thing; for to die for love is the ultimate sacrifice. She realized now that her whole miserable life had been preparing her for this one heroic act, and she was ready.


The bullet meant for Marius entered through her hand and exited through her back. She fell to the ground, dumbfounded, gazing through pain-blurred eyes at the hole in her hand. Pierced like Jesus Christ's, and both for love.

Somehow, she found her way into his arms, and he was holding her. She no longer felt the pain or the rain pelting down upon them as he talked to her, and she to him. Rain, something about the rain, and the flowers, and making them grow. What funny things people talk about when someone is dying, she thought, but she felt comforted nonetheless. People say words that are bittersweet when death is present, words that somehow touch on the sorrow of death, and yet are totally unrelated; words that don't matter anyway, but words we hope will make our loved one's transition easier.

She slid in and out of consciousness, but the one thing she knew was that he was there, and that was enough.

And then it was over.

"And by the way, Monsieur Marius, I believe that I was a little bit in love with you," the girl whispered to the man she loved as she left this earth and entered a world in which she would be the beautiful angel her hard life had prohibited her from being, but could not totally quell. Eponine's spirit had withstood everything in her life without totally dying, and now, at death, it was finally blossoming, and she was realizing her full potential.

Eponine's soul thrilled as Marius's lips were pressed to her forehead, and for the first time in her life, her heart was full.

And then all was still at the barricade.