The warm breezes of spring whispered throughout the crowded upper room of the café Musain. The room was packed from wall to wall. And every student was excited. Yes, in the spring of 1818 life was kind to the l'ABC. Enjolras stood on a table giving an impassioned speech, one of his best if he did say so himself. (And he did)

"In the words of Patrick Henry. 'It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace- but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!'" The crowd erupted in cheers of support. Pierced only by the high-pitched squeal of a small child. Enjolras searched the crowd and spotted Éponine among the crush of people, with Guinevere in her arms. Since day one, Éponine had stepped in as Guinevere's mother. From the moment she arrived each day Guinevere was in her arms. Enjolras was beginning to wonder if the child would ever learn to walk. Enjolras chuckled to himself as Éponine whispered something in the six-month-old blue-eyed, dark-haired miracle's ear and pointed to him. Guinevere squealed again inciting chuckles from the students around them. Enjolras got down from his perch atop a table and started to mingle among the students. He was deep in conversation with Courfeyrac over recruiting new members and possibly finding a bigger space to house them. When he heard Eponine's voice float through the crowd.

"Go on Gwen, it's just Uncle Marius." Enjolras rolled his eyes; Guinevere never had liked Marius very much.

"Ten francs says Gwen starts crying," Grantaire slurred

"That's not a bet. That's a certainty." Courfeyrac said

"I don't understand it, she gets on better with Grantaire than Marius!" Feuilly said shaking his head.

"She gets on better with anyone than Marius!" Courfeyrac said, as if on cue Guinevere started to scream.

"And that's my cue," Enjolras muttered as he hurried towards the shrieking. Marius stood awkwardly with the screaming Guinevere in his arms, while Éponine stood by, red-faced. Enjolras held out his arms,

"Here let me" all too eagerly Marius passed the red-faced child to Enjolras. Just like that first night six months prior Guinevere quieted the moment she was in the rebel leader's arms.

"There's a good girl," Enjolras smiled pressing a kiss to the child's temple. The little girl giggled and rested her head in the crook of Enjolras' neck, babbling quietly to herself in the long forgotten language of infants. The redness was fading from Éponine's features as she watched the pair, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

"It's almost time for her nap" Éponine whispered, softly Enjolras began to hum Frère Jacques. His mother had once sang it to him in some faraway nursery. Now, her hummed it for Guinevere. The child rubbed her eyes and snuggled closer to her protector.

"Papa." She murmured sleepily closing her eyes. Enjolras was stunned. Surely Guinevere hadn't just said her first word! He looked to Éponine and Marius who stood slack-jawed.

"I've been trying to get her to talk for months!" Éponine whisper shouted, Enjolras had to smile silently; Enjolras sank down in a chair with Guinevere in his arms. How many times have I done this? He wondered in the last six months he had lived for two things, Patria. And Guinevere. Guinevere, the little earthbound angel in his arms, could he be her father? Did he know how? His own father had been absent in his life. What could he possibly do though? Gwen got on with everyone; pardon Marius and Grantaire when he was smashed out of his mind. But it had been him she had called Papa. If I can rally the people I can be a father, he decided. And that's how Enjolras became Papa to one special little girl.

Ok so I don't get anymore flack on the date, I did mean 1817. AND yes, I know it's a stretch to say that all the l'ABC knew each other when they were 15, 16 years old. OK! I admit it's IMPOSSIBLE! BUT Guinevere would be really young in 1832 and what three-year old shows signs of rebellion at three!? So PLEASE just go with it. And please REVIEW!