Chapter One: Saint-Paul-Saint-Louis Église


Éponine, under duress, followed her father's gang through the dirty, twisting streets of Paris. The Patron-Minette was a group of thieving, brutal men, and Éponine did not know why her father associated with them. Then again, she did not know why Fabien Thénardier did anything he did these days.

Thénardier led them into a small, crowded commons area filled with the poor. Beggars lined the buildings amongst ladies of the evening calling to prospective customers.

Thénardier motioned for the group to gather in a circle. "'Ere's the plan," he said. "'Ponine goes up them university students an' distracts 'em. Then th' rest of us come in an' finishes th' job. Got it?" They nodded, and Éponine left.

There were two students in the streets that day: Marius Pontmercy and Enjolras D'Aubigne. They were gathering a crowd around them, and Enjolras was delivering a speech with fiery, passionate words.

Enjolras was handsome, with dark hair that always seemed disheveled and deep black eyes that could drown you. But as handsome as Enjolras was, Éponine preferred Marius.

Marius had been her friend ever since her father had ordered her to steal from him. She had gone up, preparing to steal his pocket watch, when he turned.

The sight of him had made her forget the plan, forget everything.

He had pitied her and given her a sou. Then he had left her trying to make sure her brain still emitted coherent thoughts. She had run after him, desperate to prove she was different from the rest of the poor.

He had started inviting her to the political meetings he attended, in Le Café Musian on the Place Saint-Michel. It was a society of Republican university students, led by Enjolras D'Aubigne, a student of the Sorbonne University. They called themselves l'amis de l'abaissé, "the friends of the lowered".

A man knocked into her, breaking her thoughts. Éponine stepped to the side, murmuring an apology, but the man grabbed her arm. She wrenched her arm out of his hold, eyes blazing. She took his arm and twisted it, sending him to the ground. She kicked him for good measure and continued walking.

Marius stood to the side of Enjolras. Éponine gazed at Marius for a moment before he saw her; memorizing— as she often did— Marius' features. The way his hair occasionally flopped in his eyes, the way his eyes would flash with passion and fervor for the cause he fought.

Marius caught sight of her. Smiling, he picked up a book and walked to her as Enjolras continued speaking. "What are you doing here, 'Ponine?" he asked in a low voice.

"I came to see you, Marius." She smiled in what she hoped was a charming way. He did not seem to notice.

"Did you hear what people are saying about Gen. Lamarque?"

Gen. Jean Maximilien Lamarque was the only member of the French Parliament who cared about the lives of the poor. Éponine nodded. "They're saying he's ill. If the rumors are true, he won't last the week."

"Enjolras is making plans to start the—" he mouthed the word revolution, looking around carefully "—at Lamarque's funeral. He's hoping the people will start riots at the funeral procession."

"What if they don't?"

Marius looked surprised, as if the thought had never occurred to him. "Of course they will. We're fighting for them, after all."

Éponine sighed and changed the subject. "I could be a student, too, you know. I can read, write, and do sums. My mother taught me when we lived in Montfermeil." She took the book out of Marius' hand and flipped through it.

Marius took the book back, laughing. "I like the way you tease, 'Ponine."

Éponine matched his light mood. "I like the way you style your hair, Marius."

Marius and Éponine noticed an older man and a young woman with thick blonde hair came into the commons area. A basket filled with alms hung from her arm.

As the blonde woman commenced to hand out the alms to the beggars, Thénardier's voiced hissed at her across the commons area. "'urry up!"

Éponine started slightly. Seeing Marius begin to walk to the man, she pushed him back and ignored the fluttering in her stomach at the contact. "Don't interfere, Marius."

"Who is that man?"

"I don't know, and you'll be better off not knowing, either."

"I can't just stand here and let him be robbed!"

"Yes, you can, because you won't get arrested! Listen to me: don't get in the way. The gendarmes won't care that you're a baron; they'll arrest you all the same, and no one can bail you out!"

"Éponine! I am not going to let him be raided!" Marius broke free of her grasp and moved towards the man. As Éponine, seething, ran after him, he tripped over the hem of the blonde woman's traveling cloak. They turned to look at one another.

For Éponine, time crashed to a shuddering halt in the commons area. The blonde woman stared unabashed at Marius, seeming to struggle for breath. The sight that truly broke Éponine's heart, however, was that Marius looked the same way.

Her own breath shallow, Éponine turned and ran into a side alley. The shadows, safe and dark, seemed to beckon her. Because of the almost nonexistent light, she did not see Enjolras D'Aubigne and ran straight into him.

"Je regrette, M. D'Aubigne. I did not see where I was going. Forgive me for running into you, monsieur." She was rambling, stumbling out a mixture of disjointed words.

"It's all right," Enjolras replied. "I am in blame as much as you are. I also could not glimpse you in the shadows, mademoiselle." Éponine was grateful for the darkness at that moment, for it conveniently covered her flushed face.

The inevitable silence came and stretched for minutes. Éponine could not stand the discomfiture she felt and spoke. "I need to go, monsieur." Why on earth did I just say that?

"Au revoir, mademoiselle." Enjolras bowed elegantly.

"Au revoir, monsieur." Éponine curtsied and fled the alley, attempting to disregard the blood rushing to her face.

Her father and the Patron-Minette were surrounding the older man. Éponine could not see the blonde woman.

Then three police officers entered the commons area. As much as Éponine wished to see her father get what he deserved, she knew what she had to do.

She ran to the Patron-Minette and hissed a warning. "The gendarmes are coming! We've got to run for it."

The Patron-Minette scattered, but the police surrounded them. The chief police officer, a tall man with dark skin and even darker eyes, spoke. "I am tired of the vermin that swarm the streets. If you have something to say that does not waste my time, then speak."

"I meant no 'arm, m'sieur," Thénardier said in a groveling, pathetic tone. "I'm just a poor man 'oo's tryin' to get some food for 'is starvin' family. Me daughter's ill, an'—"

"Enough." The police officer's eyes grew stormy. "Why were you attempting to rob this gentleman?" He turned, but the older man and the blonde woman had disappeared from the commons area.

"I knew 'im, see. We go a ways back, 'im an' me. I can recall, m'sieur le inspecteur, that 'e 'ad a brand o' some numbers and such on 'is chest—"

"A brand of numbers…" The police officer's eyes grew thoughtful, then hardened. "No matter. Monsieur, you are guilty of attempted larceny and assault, as are your companions."

"Lar— what?"

"Larceny. Theft. However, since you are, among other things, too dimwitted to know proper speech, and since I am feeling rarely kind at present, I will spare you from the bagne. Let this be a warning to you, monsieur, if you attempt anything in the future." Thénardier nodded eagerly, an anything-but-genuine expression on his face.

The police officer looked around the commons area, at the poor silently watching the group. "Go about your business!" He turned and left the commons area with the other police officers.

Thénardier turned to Éponine and the Patron-Minette. "That gendarme 'as t' go. Same as th' old man."

"Papa—" Éponine began.

"Quiet, 'Ponine!" Thénardier snarled. "Let's meet at th' Gorbeau 'ouse later t'day." The members of the Patron-Minette nodded, but Éponine left.


Éponine slowly pushed open the heavy door of the church. It creaked as it slid shut after she entered.

Saint-Paul-Saint-Louis Church, on Rue Saint-Antoine, number 99. It was a good distance from Rue des Vignes-Saint Marcel, but the walk was a welcome relief from her life, and she always felt a strange yet reassuring peace whenever she entered the church.

Éponine walked into the empty church and, slipping inside a pew in the back row, knelt. Her mother had a rosary, faded and slightly battered from years of use, but it was still at the Gorbeau House and she did not want to go all the way back to Rue des Vignes-Saint Marcel.

Éponine did not know what she really thought of the saints and God. She was a Catholic, as all the French were, but she was not as strong in her faith and beliefs as others were.

The door to the pew next to her opened, and a man knelt on the upholstery. Enjolras D'Aubigne.

Before she could stop herself, Éponine found herself glancing at Enjolras from the corner of her eye. He seemed lost in thought, focused on the wood of the pew. His lips moved soundlessly as he mouthed a prayer. From her peripheral, she saw him murmur "amen" and sigh deeply.

A few moments passed in silence, both lost in thought. Outside the stained-glass windows, birds called to one another. Looking once more to make certain she would not interrupt his devotions, Éponine spoke.

"May I ask you a question, monsieur?"

They looked at each other directly for the first time. "Oui," Enjolras replied. "But before I answer your question, I must insist you discontinue calling me 'monsieur'. My name is Enjolras, and one day I hope I will be allowed to call you by your Christian name as well. We are all equal in the eyes of God."

"Yes, mon— Enjolras." Éponine took a shaky, deep breath. "I have a question about faith, and I hope you will be able to answer it." Enjolras nodded.

"I have recently grown… shaky in my faith. I still attend Mass, I still go to confession, I still pray to the saints and God. But I am not sure what I believe anymore. Why would God take a decent life as innkeepers from my family? Why would God cause my brother to run away and cut all ties? Why would God allow my father to—" she almost said the word beat and caught her tongue "—to steal and associate with criminals? Why would God cause my father to force me to participate in my father's crimes?" Her words were rushed now. She was confessing more that she had intended.

Then the words left her lips before her mind registered what she said. "Why would God have me be friends with Marius when he loves the very girl who used to work for my family and I love Marius?"

Éponine froze as she realized what she had said. "I— je regrette. I did not mean to say all those— things."

"You needed to." Éponine looked at Enjolras, surprised. "I suspect you have had those 'things', as you call them, for some time. You deserve to utter your feelings."

She sighed. "I suppose you're right."

"I don't pretend to know all the answers, but I can answer you the best I can with the knowledge I have.

"God is not cruel, Éponine. He cares for everything on this earth, and that includes you, whether you believe it or not. He was not punishing you when you were born into the working class; I suspect He was, and still is, preparing you for something. You know how to survive in the worst conditions a Parisian could face, and you have lived through it. Your family situation may not be the best, but at least some of your family loves you. You can depend on them.

"And as for the circumstances concerning Marius…" Enjolras seemed uncomfortable. "I am not the best person to give advice on— relationships of that sort." She smiled softly and sank on her heels, thinking. Enjolras quietly stood from the kneeling position and departed. He looked back once at her bowed figure before exiting, leaving her to consider the words.


This is for all FanFic readers who cannot stand religion in Fanfics. Éponine's life completely sucks, all right? When she was little, she was somewhat respectable as the daughter of an innkeeper. A few years after Jean Valjean adopted Cosette, the Thénardiers lost The Sergent at Waterloo and became beggars and thieves in Paris. Why shouldn't she be angry and unsure? It gives her character, instead of the lovesick homeless gamine who has no backbone whatever. If you don't like it, then don't read it, and don't vent in the reviews about how it sucks. Please. I respect everyone's opinions, but please do not say that religion should be outlawed on this website.

Anyway. I hope I balanced the Éponine/Marius and Éponine/Enjolras well. This is going to be Éponine/Enjolras, but I do not think they should immediately fall in love. They would not be normal if they did. It seems unrealistic.

And did anyone catch what the church is referencing? Hint: it's in The Brick…