Happy Easter, everybody. And, because it seems rather fitting for this story, happy April Fools' tomorrow :D
For all the feedback I got for chapter 1, there wasn't much for 2. I'm always open to constructive critisism (not flames -.-), so if you have any I'm more than willing to listen and take it on board.
That said, thank you ever so much to everyone who reviewed, favourited and put this on story alert.
When I wake up from a particularly strange dream involving kittens and beer, I feel strangely like I have to get my revenge. Today. I don't know why. Maybe it's some remnant of the dream I just can't remember, though how my pranking little brother has anything to do with cats and booze is beyond me.
"'Zelma," I whisper. My little sister rolls over, but doesn't wake. "Zelma," Again, she doesn't hear. "Azelma Lucette Thenardier!" All premise of whispering has gone out the window by this point.
My fourteen year old sister bolts upright, panting heavily. She looks around the room, before she realises it was only me and not something truly terrifying. Not that I'm not scary when I'm angry, but that's besides the point…
"'Ponine!" She grumbles. "I was having the most beautiful dream, and you had to go and ruin it!"
"I've had an idea to prank Gavroche back,"
"Oh God…"
I ignore her. "He's effectively got me twice now, in one day. Not to mention what he did to Marius…" Swallowing, I stand and hold a hand out for Azelma. "We're going to go get him back."
"Hold on a moment." She raises an eyebrow. "Where did this 'we' come from?"
I shrug. "Us girls gotta stick together."
Taking my hand, she's hauled to her feet. For all her grouchiness in the mornings, I know she's been persuaded. Just the prospect of seeing our brother again is enough for her to be swayed. Besides, she's always been one for a little fun.
"What do we do?" Azelma asks as we stop walking.
I've taken her to the centre of town. Even though the sun has only just finished peaking over the horizon, the place is already bustling with market stalls, shoppers and pick-pockets alike.
Taking her hand so as not to lose her, I force our way through the crowd of people. When we reach an alley on the opposite side of the square from where we started, I pull Azelma down it and release her hand.
"You need to look sad." I explain to her. "And maybe hurt. What does father do? You know, so it looks like he's injured?"
"He strapped his leg up once with rope." My sister remembers. "Had an awful cramp for days." She reaches out, grabbing my hand. "Don't make me do that!"
I shake my head. "I won't. I promise; Gavroche would never believe you'd lost your leg, not unless there was blood and stuff. Besides, no-one would see because you're wearing a skirt. Father wears trousers, so it's more obvious if one leg is 'missing'."
Azelma releases my hand, relaxing slightly against the wall of the alley. "Then what are we going to do?"
I fold my arms, drumming my fingers against my ribcage with one hand whilst I ponder our options. "We're going to the bakery." I announce, grabbing my sister's hand and dragging her out of the alleyway, back into the throng.
"But… We don't have any money!" She protests.
"We don't need any." I assure her. "We aren't going to buy anything, we're just going to- Marius!"
"God!" Azelma groans as I change direction, heading for my best friend.
He's busy talking to a man selling hand-made jewellery. So engrossed is he in conversation that he doesn't notice me until I'm standing beside him, and even then I have to prod him in the shoulder.
"'Ponine!" He smiles warmly.
I grin back. Possibly like a psychopath. Way to go, Eponine. Way to go. "Bonjour, Monsieur Marius."
"Eponine." Azelma whines, tugging on my hand.
I ignore her, though I tighten my grip. She might only be three years younger than me, but she has a tendency to run off if given the chance. Not as much of a tendency as I suppose I have, and definitely not as much as Gavroche, but it's still there.
"What are you two doing out here?" Marius asks.
The jewellery seller starts to get angry. "If you aren't going to buy something, move!" He snaps.
"My apologies, Monsieur," Marius dips his head to the vendor, wrapping an arm round my shoulders and guiding me and Azelma (because I'm holding her hand, still) away.
Keep calm, Eponine. It's just his arm. Round your shoulders. It's nothing worth getting excited over.
That doesn't mean I'm not going to, though.
"We're going to the bakery." I answer his question, somehow managing to sound neutral despite my pounding heart. "Et tu?"
"Killing time." He replies casually.
My darling little sister (how I hate her sometimes) chooses now to interrupt. "That's great, Monsieur, but, like Eponine said, we're very busy, so if you could just-"
"Come with us!" I cut her off. Turning to look up at Marius, I find myself smiling in that probably-psychopathic way I always do when in his presence. "Marius, you could come with us!"
Luckily, he doesn't seem to hear my sister's groan. I dig my fingernails into her palm, just for a second, to let her know that I heard, even if Monsieur Marius didn't, and turn to look at him expectantly.
"I don't see why not." He says, and there's that wonderful smile of his again.
Hastily reverting my gaze down to the ground so that he won't see me blush, I steer us in the direction of the bakery.
Once we were out of the busier part of Paris, Azelma must've slipped her hand from mine. Marius also retracted his arm from my shoulder just outside the butchers.
My little sister pushes the door to the bakery open first and scampers inside. I catch the door before it can swing shut and follow after her.
"Get out." The baker grumbles. "I'm not offering free hand-outs; some of us gotta make a livin'. Get out!"
"Bonjour, Monsieur." Marius greets cheerily, pushing the door open and waltzing in, completely oblivious to all the scolding that had been taking place just now.
The baker's demeanour changes almost immediately. He even smiles at my friend. "How may I help you, Monsieur?"
"Actually, my friend Eponine here is the one you should be talking to." Marius gestures to me casually.
I smile at him gratefully and turn to the baker, who grudgingly looks at me. "Oui?"
"I was just wondering if you have any spare flour?" I ask. "I know you probably use it so the bread doesn't stick to the surface, and I was wondering if, maybe, you could spare a little."
The baker drums his fingers on the countertop. "It'll cost ya."
"How much?"
"How much ya got?"
I reach into my pocket, and find a button. Nothing more, nothing less. "A button."
He laughs. "No can do."
Marius nudges me aside. "If you don't mind, Monsieur, I have…" He reaches into his trouser pocket, pulling out three shiny coins, "These. I'll be more than happy to pay for my friend's flour."
Swiping the coins from Marius' hand, as though he's afraid they might disappear if he isn't quick, the baker retreats into the back of the shop. He returns a few moments later with a paper bag, about half full with fine white flour.
"Merci, Monsieur." I say, lifting the bag from where he placed it on the counter as carefully as I can.
He nods his acknowledgement, and dusts off the spots of flour that found their way onto the wooden surface between us.
Glancing at Azelma, I set off for the door. Marius holds it open for me, as I'm holding the bag in both arms so as to minimise my chances of dropping it.
Once we're, all three of us, outside on the street, I turn to my sister. "Take off your shawl."
"But it's cold!" She complains.
"Do you want to see Gavroche, or don't you?" I snap.
Grumbling to herself, she unwinds her patchy shawl from around her shoulders and hands it to me.
"What exactly are you doing?" Marius asks me.
I smirk. "Getting Gavroche back."
His face alights with a delightfully wicked smile. Gosh, how I love him.
"'Zelma," I look at my sister, before I pass out due to Marius' wonderfulness. "How are your acting skills?"
"They're alright." She mumbles. "Why?"
"You'll see."
After Marius informed me that Les Amis are meeting for lunch, it was fairly easy to figure out where to position our prank.
Standing on the corner of the street the Café Musain is on, I hand my sister the bag of flour, which is bundled up in her shawl.
"You're not holding it right!" I scold, taking it from her and cradling it, as a demonstration of how she should do it. "You need to convince him that Ma's had another baby, and that it's… Sick, or something."
Azelma holds her arms out, and I pass her back the 'baby'. She takes it, cradling it in her arms so realistically that if I hadn't wrapped that bag of flour up myself, I might believe it's actually a small child.
"He's coming!" Marius whispers, dashing back from where I'd posted him as look-out.
Grabbing his arm, I yank him into the shadows and watch.
Azelma is amazing. As terrible as father's heists may be, at least they've taught my sister how to act. By the time Gavroche sees her, fat tears are rolling down her cheeks.
"Zelma!" He calls, running over.
My sister shifts the 'baby', so that all Gavroche can see is the cloth of the shawl and not the contents.
"Zelma, what's the matter?" Our brother asks tentatively.
She sniffs and pats the 'baby' affectionately. "Ma had a baby, a few weeks ago." She lies. "And… And, it's got sick."
"Hey, it's alright." Gavroche promises her, laying a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure he'll-"
"She'll,"
"I'm sure she'll be fine."
I have to stifle a giggle. Azelma's getting a bit too carried away with this, I feel. But it's amusing to watch, and I trust her on this.
"I just… I just…" She shifts the 'baby's position once again. "Could you take a look, Gavroche?"
"'Course." He leans closer, to look at the 'baby'. "Zelma, it's just-"
"Surprise!" She squeezes the back of flour, causing a large white cloud to blow into his face.
Coughing, Gavroche straightens. Once the cloud has cleared away, his face and hair, as well as the front of his buttoned-up coat, are completely chalk white.
I can't hold it in. I laugh and laugh until I have to lean on Marius' shoulder, and even then that isn't much help because he's laughing too. Even Azelma has a wide grin on her face.
"Eponine!" My brother yells, storming towards me. Looks like I've blown my cover.
Still resting my arm on Marius' shoulder, I turn to my brother and smile. "Bonjour, mon petit frère."
"I'll… I'll…" He struggles to think of a good retort.
"Shh, little brother," I croon. "We're even now, right?"
He stalks off, dusting at the flour that still adorns his face, hair and clothing. I laugh again. Ah, revenge is wonderful.
Azelma's middle name comes from the one of my favourite 'romance' stories- Sign of the Hawk, from Girls' Adventure Stories of Long Ago. Not sure if anyone else has the book, but it's been one of my favourites for years, and Sign of the Hawk is my favourite story it contains :)