A/N: Sorry for the late update (again)! My computer had a virus and a lot of the files for this story got deleted so, essentially, I had to start from scratch -.- Either way, here it is! I know a lot of the history in this chapter is probably wrong so please correct me if you find anything! Other than that, please don't forget to review :) Enjoy xx
Arrest
She sat in front of him with a curious sort of stillness that made him wonder, ever so slightly, whether she was interested in their dinner or not.
He couldn't tell whether it was the sadness in her eyes or the distaste on her lips, but whatever it was; he was not looking at the Eponine Thenardier he had grown to know.
"You've barely touched your food."
Eponine's head shot up and a look of confusion glimmered across her gaze, "Oh."
He watched as she looked at her food; picked her fork up to use it, and then set it back down with a clank.
"Enjolras," her voice shook, "why didn't you tell me earlier?"
He stopped mid bite and tried to smirk but fell short, "What do you mean?"
"I mean you didn't tell me I was working for him."
"That's why I didn't tell you." He shrugged, "You wanted a job, I got you one."
"But it's with him." She shook her head, "How have you put up with him? Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Because it's my business."
A wave of silence fell over both of them and the waif struggled to keep her composure, shaking ever so slightly as the man of marble continued to eat his food with an astounding apathy. Enjolras had in fact called her over for dinner as soon as he had returned from work, cooking the food himself and bringing out Henri's cradle so that their son could be with both of them for the night.
However, no matter how casually the man tried to play the evening, a sinking feeling had fallen into the pit of Eponine's stomach and she couldn't shake the fact that something, no matter how small, was about to go wrong. And she was absolutely right.
"He's notorious for being a brute. Don't you think!?" She slammed her fists on the table suddenly and Enjolras' eyes widened slightly.
"I expected this sort of behaviour but I can assure yo-"
"No!" She moved towards him and pointed a finger, "Did you think that just because I've worked with criminals before I could handle him? That somehow I would grow accustomed to someone who could abuse me and get away with it?"
"You can handle yourself better than I can, Mademoiselle. If I didn't think so I wouldn't have gone to him for help."
She raised her hand to slap him but he caught her hand within his own, losing his emotions in a sad mixture of love and frustration all at once.
"He won't hurt you, you're the only female member on staff and the one thing he prides himself on is his reputation in Paris. If word gets out that somethings happened to you…"
"He'll be ruined." She murmured what the man had wanted to say and pulled her hand away from his, not realizing how long they had been like that, "Fine then."
"And another thing," he added, "when you're at the University, you mustn't act like you know me personally. Although you will be knownas Mademoiselle Thenardier, I will be Monsieur Montville to you and everyone else on staff."
"What?"
"That's how I've kept the job for so long, because they can't trace my name back to the men that went missing in the barricades." His voice cracked and he turned away from the waif, refusing to show any emotion.
"Then what about me? I was there, I went missing."
"Yes, but your family history and your disguise prevented anyone from discovering your true identity. So long as you don't expose the rest of us, which I have full faith you won't, then we'll be fine."
She pondered over it briefly, and then nodded, "Alright. I promise."
He continued to stay silent, listening to every question and thought that came out of her mouth afterwards and scolded himself every time he felt his heart leap or his blood run quicker through his veins. Every unquestionable emotion that struck him made him even more startled than the previous and he soon found himself on the brink of breaking down in front of the woman he was trying so hard to fall out of love with.
This went on till she went home and he once again found his refuge in sleep.
...
The University had stone walls and cobblestone pathways leading into its campus, trees outlining the paths and students dotting every other visible spot. To have such a prosperous, high-class standing in Paris in the current state it was in was rare and unsettling for most of the students, professors and visitors.
Outside the very walls they studied were the sick, malnourished, poor, and close to dead. They had been miraculously lucky to even study and teach in such a safe haven, ignorant to the struggles of its country, and even though some took it for granted, it stood a fact rooted in everybody's daily lives that they were amongst the luckiest in France.
Eponine tried to keep this in mind as she muttered bourgeois filth repeatedly under her breath till she was two minutes away from meeting Monsieur Christian Joviendre.
Enjolras stood by her side, trying to keep on looking apathetic, for the sake of keeping his secret and her own intact.
"Do you think he'll introduce himself? Or will I have to introduce myself?"
Enjolras blinked a few times to comprehend her question, then opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a voice he had grown to loathe.
"Surely he'd introduce himself." The man stuck out a hand and shook the waif's frivolously, "I'm Monsieur Joviendre, surely you've heard of me?"
She struggled to get her words out, caught off guard by his abrupt introduction and also the fact that the man who was a topic of conversation in all of Paris, who had inherited a prestigious University, was so young. Twenty-four at most.
"Yes." She blurted out, "I'm Mademoiselle Thenardier."
"Of the Thenardier's? Yes I've heard of you all."
A moment of silence fell between the three as Eponine and Enjolras tried to comprehend what he had just said.
He clenched his fist, "What?"
"Oh, surely you have too Monsieur Montville. They were famous for their cons." He turned to the girl, "You're quite admirable then. Liberally speaking."
"Glad you think so," Eponine bit her tongue, "and I'm glad you know, to be honest. It would be a shame to work with a man who's ignorant to his own workers histories. Liberally speaking."
Both Monsieur Joviendre's and Enjolras' jaws dropped.
Before Enjolras could apologize on the waif's behalf, Joveindre smiled.
"You didn't tell me she had an attitude."
Enjolras furrowed his golden eyebrows.
"I like it." He smiled, "You'll fit in quite nicely with me."
He moved closer to Eponine, meeting her eyes. The man of marble stood to the side, fighting the urge to jump between them and take the waif back home to their Henri. To safety.
"I hope so. Otherwise it would be a shame." Eponine clenched her teeth and the man threw his arm around her, "She's quite the catch. Ah, what a year this will be, don't you think Monsieur?"
He nodded once and unclenched his fist, not realizing how long he'd been squeezing it shut.
"Say, how did you two meet again?"
Eponine's eyes widened and Joviendre took notice, "What? Did I spark a memory?"
"No!"
He grinned, shifting his gaze to Enjolras and sighing, "Adorable, isn't she?"
"Hey!" Enjolras stepped forward, then stopped. He'd only raise suspicion.
"Monsieur, don't you have a class to teach?"
He froze suddenly, checking his pocket watch, and then sharing an apologetic glance with Eponine.
"I guess I'll be off then."
"Good." He turned towards the waif, "Now to you my dear, shall we?"
He held the door open and Eponine finally broke her gaze with Enjolras, stepping through the entrance.
...
In 3 hours she had sorted every application that had come into the university since the beginning of the semester, putting aside only 5 out of 300 for consideration since they matched the criteria Joviendre had carefully laid out for her. From her understanding, if you did not come from a high standing family or had an astounding level of intelligence - you were not cut out for the University.
"What's bothering you love? Did you hate to see Monsieur Montville leave your side? I would get him for you but rules are rules..."
She nearly stuttered over her words, unable to keep her frustration in, "You only accepted 5 people!"
"Considered," he corrected, "there is a difference, believe it or not."
Eponine shut her mouth and refrained from arguing with him anymore, growing tired of his sarcasm. She had heard about his ruthlessness and impatience since she had married Enjolras, all of Les Amis having had an encounter with him at one time or another. She had heard about his failed marriages, his ability to fire hundreds of workers at a time, and the rarity in having any chance of working for him. It shocked her that any of the boys she was friends with had even attended the University, and she was even more shocked that the man she once loved, the father of her own child, had hidden the fact that he was working directly under him for so long.
What caught her off guard presently though was Joviendre's shameless flirting and tedious sarcastic remarks. There was nothing ruthless or impatient about his behaviour, just annoying. Not to mention how he knew of her family history despite Enjolras' hunch...
"You seem oddly quite."
"Do you need me to entertain you now?" She narrowed her eyes.
"Although I would love to take you up on your offer, I cannot. I've got things of my own to do."
"Your own?" She clamped her mouth shut again. Even though she had been doing all his work all day, it still wasn't her place to dive into his personal life.
Something glimmered across his eyes and he stopped himself from turning to face the girl, "I'll probably regret telling you but," he shut the door to his office that hung open slightly, "my father passed two days from today, last year. I've got his memorial planned; I've just got to accommodate all the guests and it's proving more difficult than I anticipated…"
Eponine grimaced; she didn't know someone as spoiled as him could have been stressed. But why would there be any accommodation of guests?
"Do you need any help?" Was all she managed to say.
If it had been quieter in the halls outside their office, the waif could have been able to make out the slight gasp that escaped the man's lips.
"Uh," he smirked, "no. You can, however, attend my father's memorial service."
"Me?"
"Yes." He grinned, "Seeing as he was a man of status and that if he were still here he would own most of the buildings in Paris, there are many people who wish to pay their respects to him. That's why I'm holding a small party at the University for those of them in Paris, and outside. To reimburse them for their troubles and to conduct the memorial with ease. I want you to be there, and you may bring Monsieur Montville if you wish."
She blinked, still confused, "But why me?"
"Because you know what it feels like."
She was still confused.
"Death, I mean. It must have been difficult losing your late husband."
Before she could say another word a loud boom sounded in the hallway and a rush of screams and worried whispers engulfed the building.
Joviendre seemed petrified, frozen in place. Eponine grabbed his arm and yanked him outside with her; no one would dare hurt her if he were beside her.
"HEY! STOP!"
Her mouth turned dry suddenly and now she was the one with trouble moving. She watched as the flood of national guardsmen held a wriggling Enjolras in place.
"Let him go!" She cried, rushing to him only to be pulled back by Joviendre. She shot him a sharp gaze and he shook his head, holding her as she wriggled too.
"By decree of the law, you, Monsieur Etienne Enjolras are under arrest of the mass murder of over six hundred people at the June Rebellion of 1832. You will spend life in prison for fraud and murder if proven guilty. Please, follow this way."
"You can't!" Eponine screamed, finally breaking out of the man's grip and running to Enjolras.
He reached out his hand and she reached out for him. A guardsman grabbed it and slapped her, knocking her to the ground.
"Don't touch her!" He fought, kicking and kicking until he felt every last bit of energy he had left dissipate into hopelessness, "I have a child! PLEASE!"
Joviendre's gasp was quite audible now and he exchanged a bitter look with the waif, piecing together what he had just heard.
"Take him away." The guardsman finally declared, and Eponine watched in horror as the man she used to love was whisked out of his workplace, out of safety and security, and to prison. To his death.
The pool of students that had gathered all shared looks of confusion and woe and Joviendre ordered them back to their classes and out of the streets.
Eponine sank to the floor, weary, her vision fading to black.
The last thing she saw before she collapsed was a hand reaching out for hers.
