A/N: I promise I will get to fixing the thing with the miscreant ...'s, I
know that must be difficult to read.it is for me!
=========
**Les Amis d'ABC**
Marius arrived late at the café. He slipped in the door and hoped that no one would have noticed. But Enjolras, alert and wary as ever, spotted him even during the middle of his speech.
"Marius, you're late." He remarked, stepping down from his chair and wiping his palms on his coat.
Naturally, all eyes turned to the pale Marius.
"What's wrong wib you today?" Joly asked from his cushioned chair. "You look as if you'be just seen a ghost." He had his mirror on the arm of the chair, an object which the hypochondriac was seldom seen without, and that always made people chuckle.
"Here, have some wine and tell what's going on." Grantaire said, offering his half-empty bottle to Marius as he entered the room.
Marius waved away the bottle and moved through the uneven maze of chairs and the occasional table. Pausing near Joly's chair, he was struck with some sudden inspiration, and turned on his heel to look back at Joly.
"A ghost, you say?" he asked. The confused Joly nodded his stuffed- up head. "Perhaps.she was just like a ghost to me. One minute, she was there, and the next, gone!"
Enjolras appeared to be paying no attention to the musings of Marius, having turned to a map of Paris that was tacked to the wall, but he was listening, and rolling his mind's eye. Joly and the others all looked at each other and nodded knowingly as Marius went on, muttering "she".
Grantaire rose from his seat. "I am agog, simply aghast! Why, is Marius, of all people, in love? I've never seen him 'ooh' and 'aah' so!" Marius ignored the obviously inebriated Grantaire, and instead crossed his arms and leaned against a table, falling into thoughts of the pretty girl. Grantaire wasn't finished. He climbed up on his chair with much drunken wobble. Combeffere and Feuilly, as well as the others, all jumped from their seats. "You talk of battles to be won, and he becomes like Don Ju- an!" Grantaire threw his hands up in a grand flourish, causing all the students to jump, fearing a fall. "It's quite better than an /opera!/" he sang.
"Get down before you kill yourself!" Feuilly hissed, grabbing at Grantaire's flailing arms. He and Joly finally managed to pull him down and set him in his seat once more.
Enjolras put his forehead in his hand and groaned. He waited patiently for the ruckus to die down once more. Marius was clearly paying no attention to any of it.
Finally the noise died away, save for Grantaire chuckling to himself. Enjolras paced the front of the room.
"As I was saying.before Marius joined us..we'll need something more to catch the Garde Nationale. We all need to decide, here and now, who we are. Are we simply rich little boys, fighting for the right to go to the opera? Have any of you, friends, any of you at all, asked yourselves of the price you'll be willing to pay?" He paused and picked up a large red shroud that was lying draped over a table, and held it up. "This-this is what it is all about, friends."
He looked over at Marius, who was still not paying attention. With an exasperated sigh he leaned over Combeffere and ripped off a blank sheet of paper from his tablet, crumpled it up and threw it at Marius. It hit him squarely in the forehead and bounced off, drawing him from his reverie.
"Marius, pay attention for once, damn it!" Enjolras said angrily.
Grantaire burst into crazed laughter and he was not alone, many of the others joined him in having a good laugh at Marius.
"You're no longer a child, Marius. I have no doubts that you mean it well, but now there is a higher call." Enjolras picked up the red shroud and shook it, then threw it at Marius. The lovesick youth caught it, looking down at the flag and then up at Enjolras once more. "Who cares about your lonely soul? We all strive towards a larger purpose. Our little lives don't count at all."
Grantaire leaned back in his chair and gave a mock sigh of content. "L'amour.will you send her roses, Marius Pontmercy? Take care to make sure they are red, like the color of revolution." He stared up at the ceiling absently, a rather silly grin on his face.
"Red." Enjolras whispered suddenly. "Red, like the blood of angry men." He smiled and snapped his fingers, then jumped up onto his chair. "That's it, don't you see it?" He looked around at all of his friends, waiting for them to catch on. Joly and Courfeyrac exchanged confused glances.
"I once heard of black roses, as well." Said Grantaire, as he nodded his head wisely.
Enjolras grinned. "And black, like the dark of ages past!" He wiggled his fingers excitedly, feeling his speech start to take shape. The others all started to grin as well, catching on finally. An excited fervor lit up the room. Enjolras held his hand out to Marius, motioning for him to return the flag. Marius tossed it back at his friend, who held it up. "Red, like a world about to dawn!"
"And black?" Combeffere prompted.
"The night that ends at last!" Enjolras cried. The students, Marius included, all threw their hands up with a jubilant cry. Enjolras jumped back to the floor. "Well Courferac, do we have all the guns? Feuilly, Combeffere, our time is running short!" He paused and glanced at Grantaire, who was sitting placidly in his seat still. "Grantaire, put that bottle down! Do we have the guns we need?"
Grantaire chuckled. "Just give me my brandy, and it'll all be fine."
"Surely," said Feuilly, leaning over Grantaire's shoulder. "One whiff of your breath and the entire Garde Nationale will pass out."
Enjolras waved a dismissive hand and turned aside.
Combeffere pulled out a piece of paper. "In St. Antoine they're with us to a man."
"Twenty rifles, good as new!" Feuilly piped in.
"Wiv twenty rounds for ebery man," said Joly.
Suddenly the café door burst open and little Gavroche ran in, shouting and waving his arms about. "Listen!"
"Double that in Port St. Cloud." Jean Prouvaire said to Joly. Combeffere started scribbling madly on his tablet. Marius had joined Enjolras, smiling once more.
Gavroche kept on waving his hands. "Listen to me!" he yelled.
"Seven guns in St. Martin," Lesgles said to Combeffere as he was writing down the numbers.
Finally Gavroche resorted to climbing atop a table and shouting at the top of his lungs: "Listen, everybody!"
The café fell silent and all eyes turned to the street urchin. "General Lamarque." he puffed, pausing to catch his breath. ".is dead!"
A wave pattern rippled through the room as all heads turned instantly to Enjolras. Marius, ashen-faced once more, put a hand on his friend's arm. Even Grantaire appeared to have sobered.
"Lamarque.is dead." Enjolras echoed faintly. At that moment Joly could have sneezed and no one would have noticed, perhaps not even Joly himself. "Lamarque, the people's man."
Jean Prouvaire, a sudden frown on his face, turned to Gavroche and lifted the boy off the table to set him firmly on the ground.
The look in Enjolras' eyes suddenly turned from one of despair to one of realization. "His death is the hour of fate, do you not see it? His death is the sign we have been awaiting!" He stepped away from Marius, looking at each and ever many (and boy) in the room before continuing. "On his funeral day, they will honor his name. It will be a railing cry that will reach every ear! In the death of Lamarque, we can kindle the flame- they will finally see that the day of salvation is near. The time is here, my friends!" Smiles had returned to every face once more. "Let us welcome it gladly, with courage and cheer!"
The students all raised their voices in cheer. Even Gavroche joined in. Enjolras grabbed the red flag and jumped-skipped, rather-towards the door.
"Let us take to the streets with no doubt in our hearts, and with a jubilant shout they will come one and all!" he cried. Again the students replied with an excited cry, and flooded out the door.
**Cosette**
I sat sadly in my garden, gazing absently out the gate that seemed so close, yet so far away. I was alone.
"How strange." I muttered. "This feeling that my life's begun at last. Is it true? Can people really fall in love like this?" I paused and shook my head, grinning at myself and my childishness. "What is the matter with you, Cosette? You must've been on your own too long." I felt my good-natured smile fade and I rose slowly, walking toward the gate that had shut me out from the rest of the world for too long. I sighed, looking out at the growing darkness.
"Does he know I'm alive?" I asked. "How do I know if he's real? Does he see what I see, feel what I feel?" I paused and sighed sadly. "Find me now, find me here."
In the darkness behind me, the voice of my father surprised me. "Cosette?"
I turned. My father smiled at me. "Oh, my dear Cosette. You're such a lonely child. How pensive.how sad. But believe me, if it were within my power, I'd fill each passing day. I can see how quiet it must be with only me here for company."
I looked at him imploringly. "If you could fill each hour with the things that I'm longing to know! There's so little that you say of the life you have known. Please, Papá."
He shook his head at me. It was the way he always answered my pleading questions. "No more words of a time that is dead. Believe me when I say that there are words better left unheard and unsaid."
"But I'm no longer a child, Papá!" I said angrily. "I yearn to know the truth.yearn to know what you know."
He still shook his head, and smiled wistfully. "You will learn, my child, that truth is given by God in our own time."
I pursed my lips together and nodded reluctantly. My father smiled and kissed my cheek, then turned to go, leaving me alone once more.
=========
**Les Amis d'ABC**
Marius arrived late at the café. He slipped in the door and hoped that no one would have noticed. But Enjolras, alert and wary as ever, spotted him even during the middle of his speech.
"Marius, you're late." He remarked, stepping down from his chair and wiping his palms on his coat.
Naturally, all eyes turned to the pale Marius.
"What's wrong wib you today?" Joly asked from his cushioned chair. "You look as if you'be just seen a ghost." He had his mirror on the arm of the chair, an object which the hypochondriac was seldom seen without, and that always made people chuckle.
"Here, have some wine and tell what's going on." Grantaire said, offering his half-empty bottle to Marius as he entered the room.
Marius waved away the bottle and moved through the uneven maze of chairs and the occasional table. Pausing near Joly's chair, he was struck with some sudden inspiration, and turned on his heel to look back at Joly.
"A ghost, you say?" he asked. The confused Joly nodded his stuffed- up head. "Perhaps.she was just like a ghost to me. One minute, she was there, and the next, gone!"
Enjolras appeared to be paying no attention to the musings of Marius, having turned to a map of Paris that was tacked to the wall, but he was listening, and rolling his mind's eye. Joly and the others all looked at each other and nodded knowingly as Marius went on, muttering "she".
Grantaire rose from his seat. "I am agog, simply aghast! Why, is Marius, of all people, in love? I've never seen him 'ooh' and 'aah' so!" Marius ignored the obviously inebriated Grantaire, and instead crossed his arms and leaned against a table, falling into thoughts of the pretty girl. Grantaire wasn't finished. He climbed up on his chair with much drunken wobble. Combeffere and Feuilly, as well as the others, all jumped from their seats. "You talk of battles to be won, and he becomes like Don Ju- an!" Grantaire threw his hands up in a grand flourish, causing all the students to jump, fearing a fall. "It's quite better than an /opera!/" he sang.
"Get down before you kill yourself!" Feuilly hissed, grabbing at Grantaire's flailing arms. He and Joly finally managed to pull him down and set him in his seat once more.
Enjolras put his forehead in his hand and groaned. He waited patiently for the ruckus to die down once more. Marius was clearly paying no attention to any of it.
Finally the noise died away, save for Grantaire chuckling to himself. Enjolras paced the front of the room.
"As I was saying.before Marius joined us..we'll need something more to catch the Garde Nationale. We all need to decide, here and now, who we are. Are we simply rich little boys, fighting for the right to go to the opera? Have any of you, friends, any of you at all, asked yourselves of the price you'll be willing to pay?" He paused and picked up a large red shroud that was lying draped over a table, and held it up. "This-this is what it is all about, friends."
He looked over at Marius, who was still not paying attention. With an exasperated sigh he leaned over Combeffere and ripped off a blank sheet of paper from his tablet, crumpled it up and threw it at Marius. It hit him squarely in the forehead and bounced off, drawing him from his reverie.
"Marius, pay attention for once, damn it!" Enjolras said angrily.
Grantaire burst into crazed laughter and he was not alone, many of the others joined him in having a good laugh at Marius.
"You're no longer a child, Marius. I have no doubts that you mean it well, but now there is a higher call." Enjolras picked up the red shroud and shook it, then threw it at Marius. The lovesick youth caught it, looking down at the flag and then up at Enjolras once more. "Who cares about your lonely soul? We all strive towards a larger purpose. Our little lives don't count at all."
Grantaire leaned back in his chair and gave a mock sigh of content. "L'amour.will you send her roses, Marius Pontmercy? Take care to make sure they are red, like the color of revolution." He stared up at the ceiling absently, a rather silly grin on his face.
"Red." Enjolras whispered suddenly. "Red, like the blood of angry men." He smiled and snapped his fingers, then jumped up onto his chair. "That's it, don't you see it?" He looked around at all of his friends, waiting for them to catch on. Joly and Courfeyrac exchanged confused glances.
"I once heard of black roses, as well." Said Grantaire, as he nodded his head wisely.
Enjolras grinned. "And black, like the dark of ages past!" He wiggled his fingers excitedly, feeling his speech start to take shape. The others all started to grin as well, catching on finally. An excited fervor lit up the room. Enjolras held his hand out to Marius, motioning for him to return the flag. Marius tossed it back at his friend, who held it up. "Red, like a world about to dawn!"
"And black?" Combeffere prompted.
"The night that ends at last!" Enjolras cried. The students, Marius included, all threw their hands up with a jubilant cry. Enjolras jumped back to the floor. "Well Courferac, do we have all the guns? Feuilly, Combeffere, our time is running short!" He paused and glanced at Grantaire, who was sitting placidly in his seat still. "Grantaire, put that bottle down! Do we have the guns we need?"
Grantaire chuckled. "Just give me my brandy, and it'll all be fine."
"Surely," said Feuilly, leaning over Grantaire's shoulder. "One whiff of your breath and the entire Garde Nationale will pass out."
Enjolras waved a dismissive hand and turned aside.
Combeffere pulled out a piece of paper. "In St. Antoine they're with us to a man."
"Twenty rifles, good as new!" Feuilly piped in.
"Wiv twenty rounds for ebery man," said Joly.
Suddenly the café door burst open and little Gavroche ran in, shouting and waving his arms about. "Listen!"
"Double that in Port St. Cloud." Jean Prouvaire said to Joly. Combeffere started scribbling madly on his tablet. Marius had joined Enjolras, smiling once more.
Gavroche kept on waving his hands. "Listen to me!" he yelled.
"Seven guns in St. Martin," Lesgles said to Combeffere as he was writing down the numbers.
Finally Gavroche resorted to climbing atop a table and shouting at the top of his lungs: "Listen, everybody!"
The café fell silent and all eyes turned to the street urchin. "General Lamarque." he puffed, pausing to catch his breath. ".is dead!"
A wave pattern rippled through the room as all heads turned instantly to Enjolras. Marius, ashen-faced once more, put a hand on his friend's arm. Even Grantaire appeared to have sobered.
"Lamarque.is dead." Enjolras echoed faintly. At that moment Joly could have sneezed and no one would have noticed, perhaps not even Joly himself. "Lamarque, the people's man."
Jean Prouvaire, a sudden frown on his face, turned to Gavroche and lifted the boy off the table to set him firmly on the ground.
The look in Enjolras' eyes suddenly turned from one of despair to one of realization. "His death is the hour of fate, do you not see it? His death is the sign we have been awaiting!" He stepped away from Marius, looking at each and ever many (and boy) in the room before continuing. "On his funeral day, they will honor his name. It will be a railing cry that will reach every ear! In the death of Lamarque, we can kindle the flame- they will finally see that the day of salvation is near. The time is here, my friends!" Smiles had returned to every face once more. "Let us welcome it gladly, with courage and cheer!"
The students all raised their voices in cheer. Even Gavroche joined in. Enjolras grabbed the red flag and jumped-skipped, rather-towards the door.
"Let us take to the streets with no doubt in our hearts, and with a jubilant shout they will come one and all!" he cried. Again the students replied with an excited cry, and flooded out the door.
**Cosette**
I sat sadly in my garden, gazing absently out the gate that seemed so close, yet so far away. I was alone.
"How strange." I muttered. "This feeling that my life's begun at last. Is it true? Can people really fall in love like this?" I paused and shook my head, grinning at myself and my childishness. "What is the matter with you, Cosette? You must've been on your own too long." I felt my good-natured smile fade and I rose slowly, walking toward the gate that had shut me out from the rest of the world for too long. I sighed, looking out at the growing darkness.
"Does he know I'm alive?" I asked. "How do I know if he's real? Does he see what I see, feel what I feel?" I paused and sighed sadly. "Find me now, find me here."
In the darkness behind me, the voice of my father surprised me. "Cosette?"
I turned. My father smiled at me. "Oh, my dear Cosette. You're such a lonely child. How pensive.how sad. But believe me, if it were within my power, I'd fill each passing day. I can see how quiet it must be with only me here for company."
I looked at him imploringly. "If you could fill each hour with the things that I'm longing to know! There's so little that you say of the life you have known. Please, Papá."
He shook his head at me. It was the way he always answered my pleading questions. "No more words of a time that is dead. Believe me when I say that there are words better left unheard and unsaid."
"But I'm no longer a child, Papá!" I said angrily. "I yearn to know the truth.yearn to know what you know."
He still shook his head, and smiled wistfully. "You will learn, my child, that truth is given by God in our own time."
I pursed my lips together and nodded reluctantly. My father smiled and kissed my cheek, then turned to go, leaving me alone once more.