BOOK TWO:

BREATH OF LIFE

When Lovers Take to Battle

Aurelie left her window open to stem off the humid night. She was diligent and slow in dressing into a night gown, and did not believe for a second that Enjolras would return to her this evening. She looked over at her lantern, saw that within no more than a half hour it would flicker out on its own with the last drops of oil, and decided to let the background of the tavern lull her to sleep.

Enjolras won the race against the flame and knocked on her door just as the light was about to expire.

There was little more she wanted than to sleep, and all of those things had Enjolras' name tacked onto them. Telling him he was callous in the tavern was all inclusive with telling him she loved him.

"Yes?"

"It's Enjolras," he responded softly. Outside of her door, he leaned his forehead against the wood, lethargic and longing. With the news that they were now underway, he'd need every spare minute he had to spend with her.

With this news, he'd also been struck with the realization that he'd never spent enough time with her, and with him willingly offering his blood up for a republic, he damned himself for being unwilling to offer her the life she deserved. For being too selfish to allow her a life with someone else.

At this same time, Aurelie struggled with her indignation; could not decide if she should just pretend she'd never answered his knock or if he should be locked in her room until all was safe below.

A war raged on inside both.

"Yes," responded a reluctant Aurelie. She shook her head to wakefulness and rose from her bed, unlatched the door.

Enjolras palmed the knob and gave it a turn, holding his breath. His heart was in the wrong place, and still it was exactly as it should be.

As was to be expected, she took his breath away. It angered him at times that he could be so weak and leave behind his purpose, but she managed to have that effect on him, a betrayal to his brain. And the second she was in eyesight, Enjolras could not help but seize her head in his hands and kiss her deeply. It was all catching up.

What was catching up? What this would mean for them, how they would handle themselves once it was in motion, and how they would address one another now.

"It's not that I forget how beautiful you are," Enjolras breathed, his forehead pressed to hers. His forehead was slick and his sweat at the roots of his blond curls was noted. She liked this proof that he'd been hard at work. "It's seeing your beauty that makes me lose all control."

"I know how you feel about control," Aurelie responded. "There's nothing you like less than losing it, nothing I like more than when you have."

His laugh was through his breath as he smiled, taking her lips once more.

Once their hypnotic reception ebbed, Enjolras removed his cravat and laid it on a chair. His vest followed.

"General Lamarque has passed."

Sitting down on her bed, Aurelie worked a match onto a new cask of fuel. "I know," she said, placing the glass lantern over it and turning the screw to allow the wick to absorb the oil.

Untying his shoes, he paused. "You do?"

"Gavroche is quite a yeller."

Enjolras chuckled. "Indeed he is," he said, finishing with his laces. "He was the best of us. Had turned his back after fighting for Napoleon, realized the caste system is broken, finally understanding how the people suffer. He was our true leader, and it's time to rip apart the dictatorship in our gove—

"It's not a dictatorship."

"No, it's a monarchy. The vote was the con. That is what makes it a dictatorship, returning us to where we started."

"Democracy is a farce," Aurelie said, repeating Gavroche's wise words. For now, she was surrendering to him. This was her night: a discussion of politics and her words of anger to follow. Perhaps they'd reconcile long enough to talk of love before they hit the point of exhaustion where they couldn't form words. But with Lamarque's death, she would not steal his thunderstorm just yet.

Battles must be chosen and the timing must be right. In war, and in love.

"Amazing how the monarchy continued under the guise of choice," Enjolras marveled. Indeed, he was still atop his podium, his brain firing too quickly to maintain. "We are to blame."

"No, the bourgeois are, along with those who stir the political pot with their wealth."

Enjolras remained on the chair, completely forgetting that he'd mostly undressed save for his linen shirt and trousers. He admired that Aurelie felt as passionately as he, loved her all the more for it. He may have fallen in love with her the second he'd met her eyes, but it was her personage that had reaffirmed his choice.

"If asked, they would tell you the war is over," Enjolras stated. "They would admit a former failure openly while acting accordingly in the footsteps of their predecessors under false pretenses. This is the con! With the false admission of their guilt, they convince the people that they won the revolution when the war rages on. If we don't put a stop to it, those who died thirty years ago have died for nothing."

Crossing her ankles, Aurelie brought her feet up and leaned on one arm. "With the loss of Lamarque, there is no longer hope in our government, so it's time for the people to rise once more and make their voices heard."

He did not know she was indulging him, repeating words that had been spoken over and over and over again. He never grew tired of this conversation, despite the fact that only the metaphors changed.

"We know who we can count on, and there are enough to stand strong," Enjolras said. "Tonight I'm putting together assignations of who will deliver word that we will begin as a tribute to Lamarque on his funeral day."

Aurelie listened blandly to him as he rattled off the many places throughout Paris he had secured and who would bring the news, mentally compiling the list of his most trusted lieutenants and their relationships with each destination. Who they would trust the most, dependent on their schooling and chosen professions. Every so often she would make a suggestion: that perhaps Joly, also a student of medicine, should visit the depuytrin's clinic instead of Combeferre, since Combeferre had grown up near Palais de Justice, despite his affiliation with Deputrin's as a caregiver. They debated the merits of each, matching personalities to environments, relationships versus birthplace, educates versus laborers.

Another tirade began out of speaking of labor:

"You must teach the ignorant as much as you can; society is culpable in not providing a free education for all and it must answer for a night which it produces! If the soul is left in darkness, sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but he who causes darkness."

"Yet those educated speak the words of the learned in the past," Aurelie argued, a devil's advocate. "Why should a government who aims to control the caste system and acquire slaves with corruption educate, when those educated turn around to rebel?"

Enjolras smiled at her with great respect and idolatry. "Herein lies the root of the problem," he said, these sort of debates strengthening and bolstering his resolves on what he knew to be true. "The people would discover the errors of the government and how disastrously constrained the world is, and those in power would have none. Those who need power over the people do not care for those who die poor. They answer only to wealth."

"Yet you hold power, and empower all who hear but a word from you," Aurelie noted. "Power for the good, no doubt, but power none the less."

"The difference is that I feel no need to remain in power," Enjolras said with the raise of a clever brow. "In order for the people to have control over their own lives, they need a voice. I'm nothing more than that. I exist to empower all who wish for change, and do not discount any human who wishes . . . No. Who deserves a life with a full belly outside of the slums. A job that doesn't involve begging those with wealth for a pittance. A life condemned to slavery for stealing a loaf of bread. A life without fear."

Aurelie gestured with her head toward the window behind her. "As you know, I'm close enough to hear the noise that carries," she said, delicately broaching the subject of her anger, though with a smooth transition. "Your plans are in motion."

"We have the weaponry in place now," Enjolras agreed gravely. "With the rise of our barricades throughout Paris, we can begin our revolution once more. They have the numbers, but we have the position. These are the ways the people can fight."

Here she would fight for her ally.

In Firm Defense of Marius

"I also heard that Monsieur Marius is in love," Aurelie said, and her tone implied warning: he must be delicate with his answer.

Enjolras was not delicate.

Instead of understanding why she would bring this up, he rolled his eyes. "He behaves like a child," he snarled. "There is no doubt of his dedication. Well, at least until tonight." He knew that love could tempt; he'd fought love as he'd fight a war of words. He knew it could win in moments of weakness, as was proven to him when he'd nearly lost her, and Marius, intelligent as he was, had more weaknesses than himself. "I cannot stand for him swooning after someone he did not even speak to, especially now. He ran off to find her minutes after we heard Lamarque had passed instead of aiding us in our time."

"And you cannot relate?"

His answers could go one of two ways: the truth or the double standard.

Enjolras felt the fire. "Not in a time like this," he said, the muscles of his face strained. "Not on the eve of Lamarque's death."

"But he did not know of Lamarque's death until after he saw her," Aurelie pointed out, keeping a level head. At least for now. Though she could feel her rage below the surface and had no doubt it would seep its way into her words with time. He'd made his choice to go with the double standard and ignore the truth, and that was a battle worth fighting.

It's worth noting that Enjolras saw her as his equal, had never seen anything less. They would have both earned the love of the other if it had not happened so quickly. Enjolras had always known he was destined to be with her, and while he didn't like to admit it, she had made him a far better man. Enjolras, aware of his greatness and sometimes complaining of it, still never felt worthy of her love.

Be that as it may, he willingly denied the correctness of her baiting.

"Tensions have risen. This is not the time to be playing games."

"And yet you are in my room," Aurelie challenged, though felt the fear of his answer. The fear he may walk from her room and not look back, and with very few days left before the uncertain future, her need to be with him outweighed her anger.

Enjolras only took a split second to think. He would die loving her, and he would not leave tonight. His moments of exhaustion would be spent with her, and not just to reset. They'd be spent with her because he loved her, spent proving his love, and done because he would have little time to think of her outside of her room.

"I met you before we were ready," he conceded. "You were met and loved just after the July Revolution when celebrations were abound, not when everything went sour."

"And do you believe it would have changed had we met later with tensions high?" Aurelie asked, ready to challenge all of this, as poor Marius had felt true love in a glance and was unable to follow through because of his allegiance to Enjolras and their cause.

"It would have never changed," he said surely. "If I saw you for the first time amidst a war, I would have still been so stunned by my love that it could not be argued."

Aurelie smiled. This battle she was already winning, and she knew it as one knows the sun will rise.

"I'm sure you can read my point," she said tartly. "You cannot predict love. It in no way means diminishes his dedication to you. It does not change what he believes. If anything it enhances his belief in a better world, the necessity for a greater future. Does it not?"

Refusing to concede while knowing his war was lost, he fired with what little he had left. "I believed in a better future before you came into my world."

It was at this, at Aurelie turning to fierce anger, that he softened, however reluctantly.

"But yes. In another time, I may have had no reason to fight the government." Crossing to her, he sat beside her on the bed. "In this other time, this other life, perhaps I would have felt free to love you the way a man should. It began that way, you know? Was intended to be that way. When we all thought Louis Philippe would change our country for the better." His nearly imperceptible smile disappeared, and he rose with determination. "But this is not the age, nor day, nor time. This is a time to change this miserable night and allow a new dawn."

Arguments of love were easier when applied to others, though still not what Enjolras wanted to talk about, so Aurelie was careful. But listening to Enjolras from her window had frustrated her. Normally the second floor of Café Musain held intellectual debates, plans of wishful thinking, much drinking and merriness. Also, much worship of Enjolras. But Marius was closer to her due to his closeness with Enjolras, and she'd never expected love from Marius aimed toward anyone. No one would have ever expected it of Enjolras either. And for these reasons, Marius needed an ally.

"You were wrong to scold him," Aurelie said, looking him directly in the eyes with strength and admonishment. He began to protest, but she held a hand up. "I know now the plans are in place. There is a date set: Lamarque's funeral day. It's about to be over, or it's about to begin, I know not which outcome. Let Marius have hope to hold on to, something more than a free world. He is here despite his family, which makes him more dedicated to the cause and more worthy of your respect than what you gave him tonight."

Her final words were spat in her building anger.

Perhaps it was her strength in her anger that made him smile at her. She was unafraid to stand against him when he was in the wrong, and he was seeing this now through her eyes. He wasn't ashamed of how he'd talked to Marius earlier; it had been a necessary evil to be sure his friends remained steadfast. He'd been tame tonight; it was only that the argument was over love and not politics that had Aurelie so fired. He was losing the battle against Aurelie, had his white flag in hand. But he'd won the bigger war, and it was only to Aurelie he would ever consider surrendering to.

But he wasn't there quite yet.

The pause as she watched Enjolras' think—how she could see his brain spinning—forced Aurelie to continue.

"I did not like what you said."

Enjolras raised his brows sardonically.

"Which?"

"Belittling his heart and intentions," she said, then rose from the bed, jutting her finger out to point at him in anger. "You said our little lives don't count."

The shrug that followed was just as belittling. "They don't," he said simply. "What good are we if we cannot create light? If that means our death fighting for what is right, in death our lives have mattered. It is nothing to die—it's what we live for."

"Then live," Aurelie railed, meaning it in a myriad of ways. "I do not care if you live through me, with me, or without me." No, that was far from true. "I rescind that. I care quite a lot, but accept that it's not to be. The time I've had with you has allowed me to live, and if I have more of it, I am the greater for it.

"Live through your purpose, but more importantly, let those around you live," she pleaded, taking back to the bed and lightly touching his arm. "You let Grantaire live through absinthe, however much it bothers you. I realize it's only allowed by you because you find him worthless, but he drinks because of you, you know, and you have pity. But you will not let Marius feel love? Understand this: he will fight with you. No, he will fight for you, because he believes in you. For that, he does not deserve to be discounted by an ingrate!"

"An ingrate?" he repeated, eyes wide and rather stunned. "I am grateful for every man in my life." He noticed Aurelie's gaze widen in challenge. "And woman," he added carefully. "I believe in each of them as individuals, and while some may drink themselves into stupors, I do not doubt their belief in me and am grateful for it."

"Then you turn around and believe Marius would leave you, when he is one of the closest you have?"

"Marius did leave," Enjolras responded bitterly.

"But he will be there come morning, just as you will," Aurelie noted. "Tonight is for the individual, because come tomorrow it will be for all."

Warming once more, he brushed his hand through her golden hair. "I can understand because of you, and only because of you," he said softly, then chuckled lightly. "Though only you can know that, as I know you do. I wish all the time it could be different."

"This is the very problem I speak of," Aurelie cried in exasperation. "Enjolras, what I would do for the love Marius finds himself in at times! I realize this has been discussed and we moved on long ago, but when I see a display, I am very sorry, but I cannot help but envy a public happiness over a private one. And as you scold this action, I am stuck days before your barricades questioning which is right and which is wrong!"

"In regards to Marius?" Enjolras asked, aghast.

"In regards to your whispered words for me and your admonishment of him when he shared his love for this girl with you," Aurelie cried, unable to comprehend how Enjolras didn't understand. "He respects you, they all do. I do! We lead a secret life, you and I, and tonight . . . because of an element of fear that this could be the end, I cannot decide which love in these final days holds more power."

Enjolras gaped at her, eyes wide and glossy. How she could question his feelings was beyond him, and yet he knew he was the guilty party. He was who had forced her to question.

"The words were aimed at Grantaire, not at me," Enjolras began.

Aurelie nearly shrieked. "You want to talk of Grantaire now?"

"No," Enjolras said harshly.

Enjolras loved Grantaire very much, but was aloof to the depth. As unaware as Enjolras was of this, she was close to telling him the whole truth of it in her anger. But Enjolras was indeed endeared to the sad man, and it was that reason, and only that reason she wouldn't speak of it.

But oh, how close she had come.

"It's simply that Grantaire brought it up a notch and everyone began to encourage him," Enjolras said, continuing his original train of thought. "It was the only reason I ended up involved at all when I wanted no part in it, and if you want to know which is right, I am here tonight instead of taking to the streets and for only one reason. What I say to Marius is of no consequence while we are all at the eve of a revolution."

"Of no consequence to you, perhaps," Aurelie argued, taking her tone down a notch. After all, she knew how sound could travel. "But it mattered greatly to Marius and—"

"Not enough," he cut in. "He did run off to find this ghost, with Eponine, of all people. And you wonder why I feel he is a child?"

Aurelie was exhausted. "Eponine brings this upon herself," she sighed. "I was saying that it matters to Marius, and it matters to me. When I see you discount someone's love the way you did your friend tonight, I cannot help but have questions."

"I will find him foolish; I believe you would have too had you been in the room tonight with his pathetic swooning," Enjolras said through a long sigh. He was hurting her, he knew it, and with little time left before the unknown, this was not how they should be spending their night.

Or perhaps explaining his love for her was exactly how it should be spent, so she would know its depth if he lost his life.

He gently ran his fingers through her golden hair, inhaled her scent that had been so missed.

"But you're never, ever, to question my love for you, for it runs deeper than my blood and permeates my soul. Perhaps the difference is that I've proven to remain steadfast despite it."

Aurelie sighed under his gentle touch. She laid a hand on his chest, let it rest. "Marius will, too."

She wanted to kiss him, hoped he would. Hoped this would put an end to their discussion, but the hardest part was yet to come. The resolve had not been discussed yet, and it would be the worst, because here, her fear would get the better of her. There was no level head when it came to Enjolras protesting at Lamarque's funeral procession. No level head in regards to a faceoff with the National Guard behind a shoddy barricade of furnishings.

The struggle Aurelie had with this was that, was she not carrying a life inside, this fight would have gone quite differently. It would have been her demanding tasks; locations to visit to rally, her place at the cortege. A musket and munitions. Her demand that she place herself in the front ranks while he held the back to continue to lead.

Now neither of them had the right to die.

And without a kiss, Enjolras rose from the bed, turning his head toward the window. He approached it, looked out at the street. The pavement shined like silver, wet with the pouring rain. He built the barricade in his mind, as he'd done a million times before. He placed himself behind it with his musket and the metal they'd been melting to fashion bullets. He placed Marius there at his side, because he could not fathom leading this without him. Feuilly, Combeferre, Courfeyrac . . .

He then placed the military and cannons down the street.

"The date is set," he said, widening the torn curtain further toward the wall. "We'll know tomorrow when the procession will take place. A week at most. We are ready."

Aurelie felt the tears prick her eyes, though kept her frame strong as though braced for an attack. It was an emotional one, no doubt.

"I am not," she said, then bit her lip as she shirked away from the blow.

Enjolras turned to her, chin low. "I thought you wanted this," he said with disappointment. "A new future."

"I do," Aurelie responded, unwavering. "I always have, you know this. I am not ready for the uncertainty of the outcome. And I am terrified of the cost."

Enjolras felt himself rallying. "Freedom is priceless, regardless of an outcome. The people were able to install a new king two years ago, and though it ended up worse than the last, they were able to rise and accomplish what many said they could not. It was proven once and for all that even ordinary people have extraordinary power in numbers, in their common goal. If this fails, it is still a step in the right direction."

"And the cost," Aurelie prompted again.

"Blood is currency," Enjolras said gravely. "Blood purchases the end of darkness and gives life in hope of those who have spilt it, and those who survive. And it's those who understand the price that are the most grateful for the sacrifice because, in our blood, the world can change."

"I am not ready for spilt blood," Aurelie cried. "Does anyone want to live another day cold? Another day eating stale bread crumbs? I chose this life, as did you; a life with those who need protection, and will never regret my decision! But if it means another day with you—"

Abruptly, she cut herself off. She'd never been weak before and she would not be weak with this. She had to address Enjolras carefully for him to listen, as too much emotion would leave him writing it off. This was not to be taken lightly. She would not allow it.

Enjolras inhaled deeply, exhaled. Repeated. Stared at her with severity. He should never have put her through this. Had he done the right thing, he would have told her he felt nothing so she would not have had to suffer what was to come. He should have sent her away, but he'd been too selfish with the belief that maybe he could have it all: the ability to change the world and retain the love of his life at the end of the day.

"I will try not to die," he said, attempting to add a little dark humor to soothe her pain.

It was clear this was not to work as he saw her chin quiver. It lasted no longer than a split second, but it was there. Dear Aurelie, the epitome of strength and intelligence in a woman, but that did not mean she was unbreakable.

And still she held her frame rigid and unfaltering. "Aurelie," he said levelly. "Every man will try not to die. Some will. I may. We all may." His words were doing little, and it did not go unnoticed. "Let us have faith. Let us have courage and meet this with cheer, as this is what we've lived our lives for. What we've lived to be, and God willing, what we will continue to live long after the barricades."

"There have been times I have feared this, it just went unspoken," she said to him, flinging her hand down and glaring into his eyes. "You talk of meeting it with cheer?! I have the courage you have. The difference is that I can also be crippled at times by my fear for you. How can you talk of welcoming it now when I want nothing more than to delay!"

Frustration was getting the better of Enjolras. He wanted to sooth her fears, but he could not promise an outcome. He'd never been able to offer any promise to her other than his love, a promise well-kept.

"I wish I could give you what you hope for, and I'll pray for it," Enjolras stated. "But this is greater than my life. This is my purpose."

Aurelie forced the bravery. "I'm not sure when I've given you the impression that I thought otherwise," she said. "I have always accepted the inevitable with you, and accept it to this day. But I want you to feel, Enjolras! Feel the fear, for it will only make you stronger. It will give you the fight and the will."

Enjolras shook his head. "Strength and courage give me the will to fight, I need not fear facing my foes to feel. Where is the woman who has sworn to pick up a musket if we fight, despite my protests against it? Before you left you told me not to allow it to begin until you'd returned so you could take part! What am I missing here?"

"I have my reasons," she said under her breath.

"Then what has changed? These are not your words."

Aurelie's mouth popped open, hesitated as she looked him in the eyes. The words were there. Words she knew she shouldn't say, not tonight. Not until he'd had his fight, and if he died, he needn't ever know. But it was impossible to choke them back.

Finally, after a long minute, they burst from her mouth despite all effort to choke them back.

The Gift of Life

"I am pregnant."

Enjolras' world tilted on its axis and time stopped, her words hovering in the air between them. There was no necessity to ask if it was his; he knew with absolution it was, just as he knew she was telling the truth. Aurelie had not allowed more than a kiss until they'd kneeled before each other in an empty church and sworn to God that they would love each other through this life and the next.

He began to deny it internally, realized then that he didn't want to. Found at the same time his perception of life had changed, but his goals were further solidified. He now had more of a reason to find the light in the future for his child to live in democracy, a world he would not have to risk his life in.

And upon hearing these words, he realized he now felt a different presence. The presence of his unborn child that he would feel within proximity, just as he could always feel Aurelie when she was near, always.

Aurelie studied his face, looked for a change. She found none, but knew an internal struggle of some sort was taking place, though what with she knew not. She was wise enough to know he was not considering running off to the country and raise a family. She had stood by him and his philosophies for long enough to know his resolve, and she had always shared it. She was not so naïve as to think they may even hide in the city until all was over, as she would not allow it. The general in Enjolras was too necessary.

It should have gone without saying, and it took her a moment to pinpoint why she'd told him at all; why she hadn't waited a week until they both knew where the world stood after the initial rise of the people. But it dawned on her that she'd told him because she needed him to feel the fear. Not to unburden herself, but to give him more than a new dawn to fight for. She needed him to fight for a future that directly affected him and not just the people as a whole. She needed him to feel that his life mattered as more than a martyr.

They were still in a face off, Aurelie standing at one side of the bed, Enjolras at the other near the window. But they no longer held tension in their frames from their argument. They were now susceptible, and without any sort of defensive posture, this left them open to wounds.

Tentatively, he walked around the bed, needing to be near. He did this slowly, the first time he'd ever felt unsure in his life. It was an emotion he couldn't comprehend, and did not care now to try.

Aurelie watched him without a blink of an eye, a torrent of emotion inside, and at the same time, feeling naked and vulnerable. When he reached her, she watched a deliberate hand slowly inch toward her belly. He placed it over her nightgown and they both looked down at the same time. This was recognition of a truth. This was recognition of love.

"A boy," Aurelie whispered, glancing up at him. "I can feel it."

Enjolras swallowed. A son. He agreed: it was absolutely without a doubt a copy of him melded together with Aurelie. A son he wanted to teach the ways of the world to.

"I can, too," he said quietly. "Honore."

As if his child's name was meant to be nothing else. Honore was the boy's name years ago before the idea of a child had ever struck him. Having a child had never once crossed his mind until now, and here he was as though he'd planned for this his entire life.

Aurelie breathed in deeply. "Yes," she said, placing her hand over his. "We will name him Honore."

She watched him curiously, looking for a change. This went on for a long while before she could no longer bear the silence.

"Does it scare you?" she asked cautiously.

Enjolras was unfamiliar with fear, so he did not know if that was what this was. He'd seen fear, had heard of fear, but never once felt it. Never once felt unsure.

"Is uncertainty fear?"

He glanced up at Aurelie for her response. She slowly nodded. "Yes," she said. "Is that what you feel?"

Shaking his head, he responded, "No. I don't think so." He sorted through his emotion, applying words he knew and finding they did not compare to what he felt. "I'm uncertain, yes, and yet . . . I'm sure. I've never faced— . . . never imagined— . . ." He'd never felt a loss for words, either. "Nothing I've ever done has prepared me for what I feel now."

Aurelie felt a different sort of fear. The fear of an uncertain Enjolras. She wondered if she'd just broken the man she'd fallen in love with. The man everyone he'd ever come into contact with had fallen in love with.

And she knew what needed to be said.

"Enjolras," she said, commanding his eyes. He met hers, and she saw a new depth. She saw fear. "Enjolras, understand that this changes nothing." He did not remove his hand; he instead fell to his knees in prayer. She cradled his face. "You only now understand life in love. But I am clear, and let that assuage your uncertainty. You need not worry for me or get any foolish ideas in your head about a different life that may leave you happy but full of regret."

She did not want to continue, but sometimes words were necessary whether in agreement or not.

"You will lead," she said strongly. "You will lead us all into a new world, only with further purpose. Think of how our child will wake each day with a full stomach from his supper, and it will be because of you. Let this knowledge guide your gun. Let this give you the strength to win. And do not try to live. Just live."

Enjolras nodded, brought his eyes back to her belly where his flesh and blood was forming; a new soul he had a duty to protect from the world. "I will give you the world," he said to the soul, then looked up at Aurelie, the woman who was loved by him more than even he could comprehend. "Know now that I fight for you and our child's life, not just a future of freedom."

His resolve was impossibly stronger than it had ever been as he rose.

"I can only promise you my life and love until my last breath, be that now or in fifty years," he said strongly. "I can promise you that everything I do is done for you now. I believe it always has been; I just didn't realize how much until tonight. And I will protect you as long as I live, as I will our son. I am still ready, and come dawn I have more will than ever to create a new world for all to live in."

Grabbing her head, he pulled her into a deep kiss, full of passion, giving her his life. Forehead against hers, he added, "And I will wed you properly before we begin. Tomorrow. A priest and witness. You will not live another day without a husband who loves and lives for you. Who fights and dies for you."

With these words, with that kiss, Aurelie understood the immense volume of courage. She understood how it felt feeling ready to face their foes with cheer. She knew now that her child needed a new world, and Enjolras was the embodiment of hope; a candle in the darkness.

That night, after hours of expressing their emotional love with love making, Enjolras held her in his arms as though he were Atlas shouldering the globe. Only he felt no weight, no burden. She was the world and he would change it for her.