Author Note: Welcome to the third chapter of Alea Iacta Est. We hope you enjoy. :)
Disclaimer: I am not Victor Hugo. I do not own the book, the musical, or the film, and I certainly do not own the characters.
Chapter Three: Persuasion
"Gentle hands? He has gentle hands? What was that even about?" Éponine grumbles.
Sabinus rolls his eyes. "Are you still angry about that? It's been a week since that happened!"
The two of them are on their way to La Musain to pick up a letter from Marius—she'd tried her best to avoid the place, but her friend's pleading had finally gotten her to yield.
"Well, I don't see how you're not more upset about it!" Éponine replies.
"He touched me for all of two seconds, and if hadn't been so surprising, I would've thought it was nice! It was a very good back rub," Sabinus says, starting to get cross.
Éponine bites back her next retort, and the two of them make their way through the streets in annoyed silence, though she's still going over The Incident, as she's taken to calling it, in her mind and trying to figure out just why she can't let it go.
The thing is, it had felt…nice.
No, that's a lie—it had felt like he'd reached into her chest and stroked his fingers over her heart with gentle fingers, the touch of it tingling up her spine.
It had felt right, and that's what scares her. Other people touching her daemon should feel wrong, especially when those people were arrogant boys too fearless and too passionate for their own good.
But still, but still, she can't forget the way his eyes had almost glowed when he'd stood there and apologized to her, how he'd nervously run his hand—the same hand that touched Sabinus—through his hair, and how her hand had itched to do the same—
Her fingernails dig deep into her palms.
No. She does not like him. She does not.
She can't.
Éponine is so lost in her thoughts that it takes a second for her to register Sabinus's startled cry.
"Hypatia!" he screams. He runs forward, heedless of the growls and bared teeth of the daemons belonging to the city guards milling in the square, weaving through them like a tiny wraith.
"Sabinus!" Éponine shouts, lifting her skirts and chasing after him.
He heads straight for the lioness being pulled to the ground. Hypatia roars in anger, lunging forward despite the thick ropes around her neck and paws, and she bats away the attacking daemons, trying to get to the golden-haired figure lying crumpled and half-conscious on the ground.
"Get away from him!" she howls.
"Somebody tie her down!" yells one of the officers.
"For God's sake, just knock her out!" orders another.
"No!"
Before she's even aware of what she's doing, Éponine is standing in front Hypatia, arms held out protectively. Sabinus is by her feet, hissing furiously at any daemon that tries to get near.
"Mademoiselle, please get out of the way. That daemon is dangerous," a young, harried-looking guardsman pleads.
"Of course she's dangerous—you've just hurt her human!" Éponine shouts back. "What did she ever do to you?"
The officer glances doubtfully at Hypatia's snarling mouth and bared claws. "It's more of a question of what she will do, if given the chance," he answers.
The scene around them has calmed down somewhat, most people involved watching the little-showdown in tense silence. Éponine has to stifle a hysterical laugh at the picture she must make—one scrawny gamine and her even scrawnier cat facing off against several armed guards.
"You leave Hypatia alone," she orders, lifting her chin in defiance. "I'm sure Enjolras and the others have done nothing wrong—"
"They started a riot!" one of the guards says indignantly.
"You started the riot!" Courfeyrac retorts. "We were just having a peaceful protest!"
Éponine turns her head in the direction of his voice, and sees that most of Les Amis have been shoved in a huddle by the door of La Musain, looking worse for the wear and sporting iron cuffs around their wrists. Marius has the beginning of a black eye, Grantaire a bloodied nose, and Bahorel has a cut on his forehead. None of them look particularly peaceful—but then neither do the guards.
A crowd is lingering on the edges of the square, predictable Paris and her people always loving a spectacle, and Éponine can see the guards eyeing them nervously. She has a moment of clarity; she can use this to her advantage.
"Let the boys go, Monsieurs," she pleads. "I'm certain they never meant to cause any trouble—I know them, please, they would only have been trying to help. With the famine and the food shortages this past winter, of course they would protest. Wouldn't you, sirs, if you'd seen the children starving in the streets?"
The people murmur in agreement, rumbles of discontent and whispers of sympathy for Les Amis building, and many turn increasingly hostile stares on the guardsmen.
Éponine holds in a sigh of relief. They're not quite out of the woods yet, but they're getting there. "On what charges are you arresting these boys?" she asks.
"Disturbing the peace," says the guard who suggested knocking out Hypatia.
Éponine turns to the crowd. "Is your peace disturbed?"
"By the stinking guards, yes!" cries out one of the members in the back.
The guards tighten their holds on their batons.
Éponine forces a light chuckle, holding out her hands. "Come now my friends, I'm certain they didn't mean to, either. This was all just a misunderstanding, wasn't it?" she prods the sensible guard.
"Perhaps," he says slowly.
"And I'm sure if you would let the boys go and bring their friend to the hospital, we can all just…sort things out. Peacefully. Let bygones be bygones," she says.
The young officer hesitates.
"Please, sirs, have mercy," Éponine pleads, falling to her knees in front of Hypatia. "These are boys not much younger than you."
The crowd lets out another murmur, and the guards exchange glances. Finally, the young officer gives a curt nod. "Fine. We'll let them go with just a warning this time."
Éponine gives a bright smile and curtseys as the crowd cheers.
Les Amis are swiftly unshackled, and Joly and Combeferre sprint to Enjolras as the officers take their leave and the crowd begins to disperse now that the threat of violence and entertainment is over.
Éponine untangles the ropes around Hypatia, and as soon as she's free, the lioness runs to her human, crouching protectively beside him.
"Gabriel," Hypatia says, anguished. She butts her head against his shoulder and he moans softly in response.
"Patia?" he says, eyelids fluttering.
"Don't move," Combeferre warns. "You might have a concussion."
"Wha' happened?" he asks.
"Stupid boy," Hypatia says. "You took a baton to the head."
"Oh. So that's what that was…" He closes his eyes and his head rolls back, and Hypatia slumps to the ground beside him, finally falling unconscious.
"Damn it," Joly says. "Now how are we supposed to move them?"
Enjolras wakes to the sensation of someone running their hand through his hair. It feels nice, so he curls further into the touch. "Mmn," he says drowsily.
The gentle fingers stop momentarily, but continue when he makes no further movements. They trail over his forehead and smooth the line of his brow, trace his cheekbones, and caress the curve of his ears.
"Silly boy," says a familiar voice. He knows it, but he can't quite remember whose it is at the moment. He'd like her to keep talking, though. She sounds beautiful. "What am I going to do with you?"
Anything you want, he wants to say. Just keep touching me. His mouth isn't cooperating with him at the moment, however, so he only moans slightly.
The woman sighs. "I doubt you'll remember this, or even care if you do, but…"
He hears the rustling of clothes, feels a lock of hair brush against his face, and registers the warmth of a soft pair of lips pressed to his temple.
"Take care of yourself," the woman whispers.
"Still think you don't like him?" asks an amused voice.
"Shut up, Sabinus," she snaps. "This is your fault."
"My fault?"
"Yes, your fault. If you hadn't—"
A door slams somewhere in the distance, and the woman and her companion stop speaking.
"Damn it, we've got to go," she mutters, and her hand finally leaves his hair.
Enjolras thinks he hears the creak of a window unfastening, and opens his eyes just in time to see a dark-haired figure climb out of it into the night, followed shortly by a little shadow of a cat.
When he asks his nurse the next morning if he had any visitors, however, he is told no one besides his friends came, and certainly no one after visiting hours.
He figures it was just a dream, and Hypatia doesn't bother to tell him any differently.
Endnote: Thank you for reading. We hope you enjoyed it. Please review. :)