Author's note: I so sorry for the delay. Seriously. Schoolwork and procrastination (I have a Ph.D) is a ship that is horrifically canon.

Hope you like this chapter! Please review and enjoy.

Disclaimer: As much fun I have obsessing over fictional characters, the characters in this story belong to Victor Hugo. This is to simply take my mind off of the fact that the book doesn't fulfill my needs as a fangirl.


Libertè for the Soul

by relievedseriousness


Éponine scanned her eyes among the market crowd, hoping to find the man that had struck her thoughts for so many days and nights. This is so foolish, she thought. He could be anywhere. Besides, he's probably in some mansion right now. But, he could be, maybe, perhaps...

Éponine started running down the street, taking turns left and right haphazardly. She passed a familiar fish market and wine shop, which had been boarded up. And lo and behold, there it was. Éponine stood in front of a dilapidated building, scared yet determined. Could she face the terror and memories that the place held? Would that day wound her again? Éponine closed her eyes and pushed away whatever distressed thoughts she had in her mind. She inhaled deeply and stepped into Café Musain.

It was a shock, being inside the building. As the girl walked by, she could not help but forget her purpose. Everything, just reached to her and screamed the errors of pain that was wrought upon them. The walls, layered with yellowley paper, were stained with lashings of blood. The windows shattered, the floor covered with dust and glass. Bits of metal caught rays of the sunlight, setting themselves eerily aglow.

Éponine was sent into a panic, her head spinning. She couldn't breathe as sounds of cries for mercy echoed inside her and shook the human being on the outside. Within seconds, she rushed out of the café, hoping to escape that world of tortuous effects.

Éponine brushed the apparent tears from her eyes, taking heavy breaths. For heaven's sake calm yourself! she inwardly shouted. Such an idiot. Why would Marius be in there? Her mind stormless now, Éponine decided to get back to the garret, for Aunt Hettie might be wanting an errand to be run. But also for the fact, that it might keep her thoughts from roaming back to the wretched hell.

Suddenly, she was shoved onto a street corner by a rough man. The wrinkled vegetables in a wheelbarrow he was pushing spilled onto the pavement. "Watch where yer goin'!" he yelled. "I can't afford to have you pushin' my things and goin' 'round like a little bit-"

"How dare you raise your voice and use such language around a lady!" someone interrupted.

Éponine gasped. Could it be so? her mind asked hurriedly. Turning around, she saw where the owner of the intruding voice stood. There, was a man of reddish brown hair and eyes that she described long ago as "hopeful" and "passionate." Yes, it was like an angel's delight to the sight of Éponine.

Marius.

"Never, should one use a voice for the dogs to a damsel who is strolling down peacefully, minding her business. Especially when that mademoiselle could not help it when she is rudely pushed aside by a boorish man such as you." Marius attacked the man with ferocity. A small crowd was beginning to form.

The man looked around, grumbled and hastily collected the fallen vegetables and took off down the street.

"Mademoiselle, are you alright?" Marius asked, not recognizing the stunned girl.

Éponine, despite everything, gave a small smile and managed a reply. "Monsieur Marius, you are always so kind."

The man's eyes widened. "Éponine, could it be?" Yes, she nodded.

"Thank God! You're alive! I thought I had lost you." he cried, astonished. "I could barely recognize you! With your new dress, clean face. A miracle, it all seems." Marius embraced her.

Éponine felt as if the sun had given her a blanket of undying warmth. Even with his comments that always seem a bit condescending and untactful, she was never sorry to see him.

"You must tell me everything. How you survived, how did you get here, simply. Come, let us go to the café two blocks away and talk inside there."

Éponine wanted so badly to take the offer, but she had no money. Marius though, had no time to wait out as he pulled the young woman through the streets by the hand. His hand, Éponine thought in bewilderment. Like the cloth of stars! Finally, they reached their destination. "Welcome to the Doux Paradis." Marius said.

They stood in front of the shop. Like any building now, it was a bit run down. Very run down, in this case. The exterior boards were cracking, the pillars seemed to tremble, the windows faded and scratched, the sign was rusted and its title seemed to be the very opposition of the shop. As they stepped inside though, it was a transformation of worlds.

Aromas of breads and pastries wafted themselves to their noses, tempting them to the fullest. Coffee was brewing, tea tins were lined on the shelves behind the counter. Several tables invited people to sit and chat. That was not all. Behind the glass of the display case, sweets of all kinds sat on napkins, showing off their delicious appearances and daring all to try their heavenly taste. Yes, it was sweet paradise. So bright. Must be a bourgeois place.

Marius stepped up to order, calling for two coffees and a croissant. "And your choice Éponine?" he inquired.

Éponine looked at all the baked goods. How could she possibly pick one? One particular pastry however, caught her eye. It was a tart. "That one?" was her response. It sounded as if she was unsure. She was a bit, as she had never in her life eaten such food of grandiose.

"Very well. One of the tarts on the middle left, please." Marius said. They sat down once their order was ready, and took some time to sip their coffee and indulge. Éponine bit into her ordered confection.

The tart pastry itself was flaky and crumbly, its color baked to a golden hue. The center held rich marron, chestnut cream, accented by bits of bitter chocolate sprinkled in between, with a raspberry to top the creation.

This is absolute heaven, Éponine thought. But as magnificent as the dessert was, it was exotic to the girl's tongue, who had tasted nothing sweet ever save for the times she and her sister sneaked pieces of waxy candy from the ancient candy shop owner back in Montfermeil.

"Éponine, I implore you to tell me your tale of survival." Marius said with a hint of curiosity. "If you don't mind, of course."

Éponine smiled gently, not sure about how to address this topic. She began slowly, telling him how after she was wounded, a kind man comforted her and most probably carried her to safety, next to Musichetta's door, where they found her.

She was sure to put a slight emphasis on "a kind man," knowing Marius would certainly know who she was talking about. But her expectations were dissolved when Marius asked, "Who was this kind stranger?"

Hurt mixed with sudden uncertainty. "Marius, don't you remember? You, yourself, monsieur, carried me out of danger. Surely...?"

Marius shook his head with a small sigh. "I'm very sorry 'Ponine. I'm afraid I am not the man you talk of. "

Éponine was in a stupor. All these months, she was imagining and replaying of what she remembered of that day when he comforted her. The warm, strong arms that seemed to keep all peril away, the aberrant words spoken to her in a breathless voice...the perplexing thought that she had seen blue eyes instead of Marius' cool, hazel irises. But now - could it be? An actual stranger that was benevolent enough to save her from the formidable barricade?

Éponine could not believe this realization. But, surprise news or not, Marius was content to continue proper conversation. "'Ponine?" he asked. "Are you ill?"

The girl shook out of her daze and replied, "No, I am fine monsieur. Please, it's your turn now to tell your story."

Marius readily complied, and began. "I was wounded during the second battle, being shot in the arm and my leg wounded. An elderly gentleman rescued me and took me to the hospital, where I resided for a month. Did you know, 'Ponine?" his voice suddenly changing to a more excited tone. "Did you know?"

Éponine shook her head. "I'm sorry?" she said. Whatever could he be talking about?

The man seem to get more and more energetic in the confinements of his seat. "'Ponine, do you remember dear Cosette, my lovely Cosette with the beautiful golden locks and sweet face?"

His companion nodded, who was at a loss for words. No, not her again, she sadly thought.

Marius leaned closer, as though there was a secret that cannot be held if he was to sit back too far. His eyes were brimming with elation, he announced:

"I am engaged."

Éponine drifted into a state of nothingness. She could not breathe, she could only stare at the man who had broken her heart endlessly with a limitless count. She wanted desperately to run out, sobbing and never face humanity again. But Éponine found herself in a foreign place, where no gamine should ever step into.

She jolted out of her chair, standing up with sudden haste. "Thank you monsieur, for your, your generosity, but the light is fading fast, I must go home."

Marius stood up as well. "I can walk you home, 'Ponine, it's safer."

Éponine laughed uneasily. "Monsieur, you will be the death of me."

She swiftly ushered herself out the door, leaving Marius confused as always.

He was never mine to lose, Éponine thought, a tear slipping down her cheek. You foolish little corrupted gamine. A miracle indeed.


Enjolras was sitting in the parlor, trying to concentrate on the faults of Louis XVI when Marius came in, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Hello Enjolras."

"Hello. May I inquire where you have gone for the past hour?"

"Doux Paradis."

Enjolras grimaced. The shop was well known among the bourgeois, but he never liked the overpriced, fanciful sweets they made. Or the woman working behind the counter that gave him an unnecessary flirtatious eye each time he was ever there. To him, it was sweet hell, really.

"With whom? Yourself?"

His friend put a hand to his forehead. "I bumped into Éponine today. Can you believe it? She's alive, in all of this mess. You remember her, do you not?"

The young man's composure stayed calm, despite the unwreathing turmoil he had inside.

Of course I remember her. How can I not?

"Yes - the girl who always followed you around?"

"Yes, yes - well today I met her again and we went to the café. She told me about how she managed to get away from harm. A stranger, she said, carried her and tucked her away near, Musichetta, I think, her door."

Enjolras was reminded instantly of Joly.

"And?"

"She said that they took her in. But then after, she, 'Ponine, hinted at the possibility that I was the stranger. I told her I had no remembrance of it. She must have forgotten exactly what had happened after she fell unconscious."

An odd spasm of mixed feelings hit Enjolras. Anger, grief, a drop of jealousy were the elements of the product. "Continue," he muttered.

"Well, then she asked to hear about my tale, and I told her. She seemed a bit intrigued, until I told her about the engagement between Cosette and I, and, quite truthfully, she stormed out!"

More anger brushed over Enjolras' mind. "Whatever were you thinking, Marius! Are you a madman to tell that girl of such a thing?" he nearly growled.

Marius looked, once again, befuddled in his own merit. "Wouldn't I? Why wouldn't I share a piece of wonderful news to one of my best friends?"

"If you were ever her friend, you would know of matters like this would incite her to run out! You, my friend, are oblivious to those who are in need actual comfort."

That day, Marius witnessed two people desert his presence. The latter was a revolutionary.


Enjolras could not understand the utter stupidity of the man he just spoke with. How can Marius not see the equation of it, why Éponine ran out of that café? Did Marius never see the looks she gave him back in those days? Enjolras shivered for no reason at all.

Éponine!

There was a time, when Enjolras had, what he said was, a short fixation on the young gamine. He never told anyone of this, of course. He was careful about his feelings, always sure to keep them in check. But he was stirred by her hardiness, her intelligence, her quick wits, that little smile that was never directed toward him...

Each night, a few glances were cast at her, sometimes prolonging into stares. Éponine never noticed, and Enjolras didn't think any of the boys did, until one night a half-drunk Grantaire sauntered over to him and whispered, 'Got a crush on Marius' shadow, don't you, Apollo?'

Since then, the revolutionary obliterated any feelings he felt about Éponine, instead focusing on bettering the lives of the impoverished. Instead, he lead an unsuccessful revolt. Enjolras' mind now located itself into a whirlpool of emotions. No, just looking at her was enough. No more. Extinguish everything.

But his blue eyes said otherwise.