The next day after a breakfast in which she hadn't talked too much, Éponine sat down in the huge library of her house and thought, while shivering, about what occurred the day before. She couldn't believe the boldness in her letter, when she invited him to accompany her to the Luxembourg. Also, she had touched his face, smiled at him like a lover. They had played like children and he had flattered her with the best of intentions, his stiff mask fading. To the eyes of anybody that could've seen them, they were lovers, a young couple madly in love.
But then everything sank like a Spanish galleon and she had left, leaving a stiff and again, marble-like Enjolras. This had confused her and she thought that maybe all of that was plain courtesy. Anyways it had made her lost in a sea of feelings.
Éponine stood up and walked to her piano. She started humming and playing a song she had heard a few times on the street. It was nothing pompous or precisely elegant, not a lesson but a fresh and popular song that talked about love. Youths in love with the idea of love and old ladies that had already loved too much sang it together and she felt it was perfect.
Baby I'm yours…and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky. Yours, until the rivers all run dry. In other words, until I die.
And since coincidences do happen, and indeed it was a popular song, a troubled Enjolras, holding Éponine's book close to his chest and disguised between a few law books, heard the exact same song at the exact same time. It wasn't exactly being singed by the most glorious voice but by a man in the street that was trying to survive with music. He caught the lyrics immediately and they made him tremble all day long, until that same night when he would remember them with her presence.
Baby I'm yours, and I'll be yours until the sun no longer shines. Yours, until the poets run out of rhymes; in other words until the end of times.
After she finished singing, Éponine, being were she was, remembered that she had left her Shakespeare's book with Enjolras and almost cried. She prayed that he have had the good sense to take it with him and enough respect for privacy to avoid opening the page of Sonnet number Eighteen where she had passionately written his name the day she met him.
She distracted herself by reading another book from a Spanish poet called Calderón de la Barca, who had written beautifully about dreams and one of his poems said, "Cause life's a dream and dreams, dreams they are," which she thought very romantic.
A few moments after being consumed by the effervescence of poetry, 'Crecia opened the door and took her tea and sugared cookies, which she knew it was Éponine's favorites.
"Oh nana! My favorite, thank you," Éponine said, faking an enthusiasm she didn't have but wanting to spare explanations.
"I know, I've raised you, don't you remember my child?" 'Crecia said tenderly.
Before serving the Lafévre couple, Lucrecia had worked for the Lecorre family. She raised Cecile Lecorre, which was Madame Lafévres maiden name, and kept serving her even after she got married. She had been serving them for years before Éponine and Gavroche arrived to the house and she had received the children with so much love, Éponine sometimes thought she also deserved to be called mother.
"Of course I do nana," she replied with a sweet smile on her face.
"Will you tell me what's happening to you?" 'Crecia asked with a severe voice.
"Nothing's happening to me nana," Éponine replied.
"Yes, something's happening. You never wake up so early. Also, you didn't even touch your breakfast and didn't talk during the whole morning. Yesterday, you arrived without saying a word to anybody and went directly into your room. And what about singing love songs for the past three days?"
Éponine half frowned and smiled softly. 'Crecia knew her too well.
"Your mother and I already know what's happening to you child," She suddenly said and made Éponine shudder.
"Nana, I'm so troubled!" Éponine then said.
"Is he a revolutionary?" Her mother asked, suddenly entering to the room.
Both ladies, her mother and her nana, stood gazing knowingly at her as she nodded, defeated by both of them.
"I recommend you to go back to that Café today," her mother said.
"Why would that help?" Éponine asked.
"Come on child! You know you want to see him!" 'Crecia exclaimed.
"What are my girls doing?" Asked monsieur Lafévre when he arrived.
He entered to the room, kissed his wife softly on the lips, Éponine on her forehead and exchanged a respectful gaze with 'Crecia while saying "nana" in a pleasant voice.
"We are convincing 'Ponine to go with 'Roche to the Café Musain," answered her mother.
"Why is it?" he asked.
"Her future's there," 'Crecia answered, winking her eye to Éponine, who blushed.
"Yes, see she's in love with the revolution," her mother explained implicitly.
"Oh really? Then it wouldn't harm you to stay here…I guess you know Les Amis de l'ABC right? It's that society of revolutionaries your friend Grantaire belongs to. Tonight I invited them to eat here along with some other friends of mine; we're going to propose something to them," her father exclaimed and Éponine felt she was going to pass out.
"Are they all coming Sir? 'Crecia said very excited; she loved cooking for huge amounts of people.
"No 'Crecia, just five of Les Amis are coming, the others are troubled with university or their personal affairs" he answered.
"How many people will there be?" 'Crecia asked.
"Us five, the five amis, and three of my own friends,"
"Alright sir, I'm going to begin the preparations for tonight," 'Crecia said happily.
"Who are they?" Éponine said, her heart pounding frantically.
"Les Amis?" her father asked.
"Yes, their names," Éponine pleaded softly.
"Monsieur Grantaire, Monsieur Courfeyrac, Monsieur Combeferre, Monsieur Joly and the leader, Monsieur Enjolras. Apparently 'Roche knows them," he answered and it made Éponine's floor tremble.
"Excuse me, mama, papa, I'm not feeling well," She said and ran to her room with her head twirling in excitement and shame. She even blushed for a couple of minutes.
Her mother didn't mind too much and even smiled; she knew what was going on. Tonight she would meet the guy that brought warmth to her daughter's heart. But she had something serious to address at the moment.
"What will you propose to them?" Madame Lafévre asked impatiently.
"Nothing to worry," Monsieur Lafévre answered passively while taking a seat. He knew his wife and could guess she was going to scold him. He also smiled for that.
"Remember you have a family now and you are not young like before, you cannot pretend you are going to run like a youth to the battle," she half scolded him, very worried.
"No I am not going to fight dear. I didn't fight when it was my time to do so and now I won't do it. I'm going to help them, economically and so will do our friends. I've finally found that they totally believe in this revolution," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"These kids cannot expect to sing in the streets, to do a barricade and public disorder while shouting their ideas, which aren't very nice to the king or anybody in the upper society, without expecting harshness in return. See? They are somewhat unprepared and we're going to financially support this by giving them a resource to buy what they need," he explained.
"You are going to promote violence," she stated contemptuously; she hated violence.
"We're going to help them survive,"
"I just don't want you to be in danger or to put our children in danger," she said, helpless and defeated.
"Everything's alright. There's no way in which I could be in any more danger than in which I already am. Besides, regarding our children, 'Roche and 'Ponine are well aware of this situation and I know they would know what to do," He assured her.
On another place of the city, at the Café Musain, a few of les amis discussed what was going to occur at night.
"Are you sure we should go? I mean, bourgeoisies helping us?" Courfeyrac asked.
"I know them," said Grantaire, who was sober once again, "they're good people."
"Were do you know them from?" Combeferre asked.
"He's the father of a friend of mine," he answered, not wanting to involve Éponine, although he knew they were going to see her there.
"How was his surname once again?" Enjolras asked, doubtful.
"Lafévre," Joly answered.
Lafévre. It made Enjolras wander a bit. Wasn't it Éponine's last name? Hadn't she signed the letter as "Éponine Lafévre"? He was excited and at the same time really felt ridiculous. Why would he be so excited to see Éponine? He then remembered that Shakespeare's poem in which his name was written so passionately and felt something explode inside of him, imagining her writing his name over and over again in several papers and maybe saving them. He wondered if she would ever invite him again to meet her or if he had done wrong in describing her…he was confusing by all of this.
"Hey, 'Roche's here," said Courfeyrac, which droved Enjolras out of his dissertations.
"Hello 'Roche, today we won't have a debate because we are going to have dinner with some people," Joly explained.
"Yes, I know, I came to tell you I'll guide you home," he said with a smile.
"Home?" Everyone, except Grantaire asked.
"Home! Were I live, that's were you're going to eat,"
"What's your father's name?" Enjolras asked.
"Jaques Lafévre," Gavroche answered.
Everyone relaxed a bit afterwards. They knew Gavroche, he had been going to their debates for a long time and nothing wrong had happened so they figured that the same thing would be with his father. Each one of them left to do their own things until the time to go for dinner but before Gavroche left, Enjolras stopped him.
"Do you have a sister?" he asked softly and received a scrutinizing look.
"Maybe," Gavroche answered; he was very protective with 'Ponine.
Enjolras looked at him puzzled and then let him go, trying to convince himself that he wasn't seeing Éponine.
Hello you guys! I'm so happy today :) This fanfic has received such a positive response that I feel encouraged to continue. I really have a lot of hope on the chapters to come, a lot of Enjonine and stuff...you'll see ;) I know I'm not making a good job with the lyrics because it's not easy to adapt my musical taste to the 19th century but I hope you are still enjoying this. Thank you all for reading although some chapters might be long and boring, commenting, putting in favorites or alerts. Now I want to take my time to send a really especial thanks to MademoiselleEnjolras have you read anything she's written? It's fantastic! She has encouraged me to continue since about my second day here and it's something I feel like sharing with all of you.
-Cami