There was a large turnout at Lamarque's funeral. Éponine pulled her cap down as she saw the carriage carrying his coffin approaching. She had done this far too many times, dressing like a boy, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to see her friends again if she didn't endure this nuisance.
Across from her stood Enjolras, unaware of her presence, a solemn look on his face. Combeferre stood next to him, his head bowed in respect. He was clutching a large red flag, but kept it down. Éponine knew that would be coming into use any moment now.
Beside her stood Courfeyrac, Joly and Marius, but they didn't recognise her because of her bindings, trousers and cap. She kept her head down, flicking her eyes up every so often to see what was happening. Everything was silent, apart from the sound of horses hooves clip-clopping along the gravel.
As the carriage drew close, Enjolras seemed to be signalling Marius, and before Éponine knew it, he had taken the large flag off of Combeferre, jumped into the middle of the procession and began waving it around, shouting cries of revolution. Then, Marius joined in, followed by Courfeyrac, then Combeferre, and then all of Les Amis de l'ABC had flooded out into the middle of the funeral. Éponine joined them, and soon, Enjolras and Marius were on top of the carriage that carried Lamarque's body.
Flags waved, a flash of blue, white and red everywhere Éponine looked. Civilians began to join in, and the procession quickly changed from a funeral to a rally, one of the largest Éponine had ever seen. There was a slight moment of pride for Enjolras in her heart, but it quickly turned to anger again, for his naivety and stupidity. Still, she walked by the carriage, looking up at Marius and Enjolras, praying silently for them, for everyone that was to take part in this revolution.
They rounded a corner, and the cortège came to a halt as the National Guard stood before them, a group of around 30 of them on horseback, swords out in front of them. Éponine held her breath, and heard the rattling and clicking of guns being drawn and loaded, the tension thick in the standoff.
Suddenly, there was a gunshot, and a bystander fell. An older woman, with a growing bloodstain on her chemise, dropped to the floor, and there was an uproar.
"No!" Combeferre screamed, running towards her. "No! She's an innocent woman! Murderer!" He took the gunman by the collar and hauled him out of the crevice he hid in. The National Guard began to race forward on their horses, and the killing began. Guns could be heard, and the sickly sound of swords slicing and piercing skin filled the air.
"To the barricades!" Enjolras shouted, and there was a mad scramble, with different groups breaking off to go and build barricades around the city. Éponine looked around frantically, and saw a flash of red, followed by Combeferre and Prouvaire, so she ran after them.
They weren't running for very long. They came to the Rue de la Chanvrerie and all around them furniture seemed to be falling from the skies. People threw chairs, tables, desks, even bed frames and, at one point, a piano fell, all through windows and balconies and down flights of stairs and through doors. A nearby stable was used, as a group of men barged down the door and added it to the barricade. A cart was upturned and broken up, piled onto the large amount of furnishings that sat in the middle of the street, which began to look more and more like a steady barricade.
When theirs had been built, Enjolras stood proudly at the top, between Combeferre and Marius. He fastened his red flag to the top of the barricade, and turned to face the large group of revolutionaries.
"Today, we begin our fight for democracy, our fight for freedom. Have faith in yourselves, and don't be afraid. We shall bring change to our country as she is trapped under corruption!"
There was a cheer, and an exchange of words, before everyone mostly disbanded to take their roles of keeping watch, loading muskets and carbines, securing the barricade and so on, so forth.
Éponine took to loading the guns, keeping her head down but leaving her ears open. She learned that Enjolras had sent a volunteer to find out when the National Guard was planning their attack, a man who claimed he had been one once, years ago. She turned her back when he passed her out alongside Courfeyrac and Bossuet, praying that he hadn't caught a glimpse of her face. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as they walked by without taking any notice of her, relaxing her tense shoulders.
"Éponine?" Her little brother's high pitched voice sounded surprised at her presence. Éponine snapped her head around to look at him, and threw her hand over his mouth, dragging him into an empty shop.
"Be quiet, Gavroche! I'm not supposed to be here. Don't go shouting my name around the place! How did you know it was me?"
"Ép, you're my sister. Your disguise ain't nothing to me, I could recognise you a mile off. What're you doin' here?"
Éponine looked around, making sure no one was there to hear. "I came because I wanted to join the revolution. But, y'know, they don't let girls join, so I had to resort to this." She gestured to her disguise.
"Oh, right."
"You shouldn't be here either, Gavroche. You're too young for this!"
Gavroche snorted, and leaned back against the door. Éponine hated the fact that he was far too mature for his age.
"Don't underestimate little people, Ép. We may look easy pickin's, but we've got some bite!"
Éponine sighed, and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him slightly.
"Just stay safe, Gavroche. Do not get yourself killed for the sake of this silly revolution!"
"I thought you said you were here to fight?"
"I am. I just - Oh, never mind! Just promise me you will not tell a single soul that I am here. Okay?"
"Alright. But you gotta stay safe too."
"I will. Now, go on." Éponine ushered Gavroche out of the doors and blew out a breath, holding her hand to her forehead.
She returned to her position of cleaning and loading the guns outside, thinking about this silly mess she had gotten herself into.
She thought of a conversation she'd had with Azelma a few weeks ago, when she had been laying on the grass in the Jardin du Luxembourg, cooling off by La fontaine Médicis in the May heat.
"What are you doing, 'Ponine?" Azelma came across her sister and sat by her side, pulling out tufts of grass.
"I'm thinking. I like to think. And wonder." Éponine replied, placing her hands behind her head.
"Is that so?" Azelma giggled, amused by her sister's state of relaxation and contentedness.
"Yes, 'Zelma. Have you nothing better to do than sit here and bother me?"
"Nope. Absolutely nothing. So, what do you like to think about?" Azelma leaned back on her elbows, squinting to shield the hot sun from her eyes as she scrutinized Éponine's face.
"Many different things, I suppose." Éponine paused, and closed her eyes. "I enjoy the nice things that come free in life, like the beauty of the summer sun, and the gentle breeze I feel on my skin every so often. Who knows whether one of these days I shall be prevented from doing so?"
She was glad she took that approach on life, because now, Éponine looked at the situation she was standing in, and she couldn't see a way out. There was no light at the end of tunnel, for her, for Gavroche, for Enjolras, for anyone that was partaking in this.
She knew her own people. Everyone would be too afraid to rise, too unsure of the circumstances. They didn't understand that they had rights, they didn't know they had rights. Éponine wanted to kick herself for not realising this sooner, for if she had warned someone, then it might have stopped this ongoing death march.
She snapped away from her daydreaming state as she realised the man who had volunteered to find out the Guards' plan had returned. Everyone begun to gravitate towards where he spoke to Enjolras of the matter.
"Tell us, sir, of what you have learned from these men."
The elder man nodded and Enjolras, and looked around at everyone before recounting his experience.
"I counted each man, and be warned that they have armies to spare." Éponine squinted at the man, she had seen him somewhere, but she couldn't place her finger on it. "They plan to starve you out - so there will be no attack tonight. They are planning to get us to our weakest, so that we may surrender, and if there is no sign of a truce then they will attack and there is the chance that we will be too feeble to fight them off."
Everyone nodded, taking heed of the Guards' plans.
"Liar!" There was a sudden outburst, and Éponine recognised Gavroche's voice. The men looked around at him, confused, until he spoke again.
"Good evenin', Dear Inspector! Lovely evenin', isn't it?" Éponine opened her mouth in shock, remembering now the face she recognised. "I know this man, my friends. His name's Inspector Javert!" The students turned their heads to look at him again, and closed themselves around him, grabbing him and taking his weapons off of him.
"Well done, Gavroche!" Courfeyrac called, holding the arms of a struggling Inspector Javert.
"What should we do with this snake?" Prouvaire snarled, holding a gun to Javert's head.
"Tie him up and throw him in the tavern. We will decide your fate, Inspector Javert." Enjolras spat, watching as Javert fought to free himself from the grip of the students holding him, dragging him towards the Corinthe.
"We keep looking forward." Marius called out.
Then, everyone fell silent. The sounds of marching feet could be heard, in a rhythm that could only be attributed by the National Guard.
"They're coming!" Different voices shouted and warned, and Éponine held a gun out for Marius to take, keeping her head down.
"To your positions!" Combeferre ordered, and everyone began to move, taking their places at the barricade. Above them, women closed their shutters and locked them. Men held their guns in shaking, sweaty hands, and crouched down, readying themselves.
Éponine took a loaded flintlock pistol and crouched down below Marius, watching his every move.
"Hold your fire!" He called, as the armed soldiers rounded the corner. "Save your gunpowder!"
"Take aim!" A National Guardsman shouted, and the rattling of guns being aimed at the barricade could be heard. "Who's there?" He shouted again, this time to those behind the structure.
There was a pause, as everyone looked to Enjolras.
"French Revolution!" He called, gallantly.
There was another pause, and then, a scream of "Fire!" Soon, gunshots could be heard, from both sides, followed by screaming and shouting. Éponine looked around frantically, her ears felt like they'd gone numb with the loudness all around her.
"They're climbing the barricade!" Someone cried, and she stood up, craning her neck to see. Enjolras had just grabbed a gun off of a Guardsman, and propelled the butt into his chest, knocking him backwards off of the structure. Marius climbed across the barricade, grabbing a barrel of gunpowder from the stacks.
"Marius, no!" Gavroche yelled, and Éponine gasped, pushing Gavroche further back. She climbed the barricade, and stopped in shock for a second when she saw a Guardsman aim his gun at Marius.
Then, she jumped to action, knowing immediately what she had to do.
There was a scuffle, as she cocked her gun and held it to the Guardsman's chest. He aimed for her shoulder, and she put her hand in front of the gun. She pulled the trigger, and two gunshots rang out. Then she was down, with a blinding pain in her hand and her right shoulder, but a triumphant smirk on her face as she watched the life leave the soldier's eyes, and a growing red mark form on the chest of his uniform.
"Fall back! Fall back or I'll blow the barricade! Marius shouted, holding a lit torch to the barrel, and the Guardsman looked at him with shock.
"Blow it up and take yourself with it!" He warned, and the gunfire fell silent. The Amis looked up at him, and Marius laughed, a hollow laugh, full of nothing.
"And myself with it." He repeated, lowering the torch nearer the barrel.
"Back! Get back!" The Guardsman screamed at his men, and they ran back.
Enjolras took the torch off of Marius and made his way down the barricade cautiously, letting out a few breaths of relief. Yes, it had worked in getting the Guardsmen to back off, but had it not then they would all have been dead, and then what would their efforts have been for?
He handed the torch to Courfeyrac who took it away, and left to find the person he saw struggling with the soldier. He found him and, crouching down, he began to speak to him.
"Are you well? That was some brawl over there. Do you need help getting up?" The person shook their head, never looking up once. Enjolras frowned and gave him a once over, and gasped when he saw blood smeared over the chemise the person was wearing.
"Dear God above, you're bleeding profusely! You've been hurt! Let me get some help - " He started to rise, but a small hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, and Enjolras was confused at his familiarity with it.
"Don't leave…" A raspy voice croaked out, with a higher pitch than Enjolras would have expected.
"But you need a physician!" He cried.
The person pulled their cap off, letting thick, long brown hair fall down their shoulders. Enjolras' throat dried as he saw his - her - face. He couldn't find the words. He knew only one.
"É...Éponine?" He stammered, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "What… are you doing here?" He was whispering now. He wasn't angry. There wasn't time to be angry.
"I couldn't let you all just… die. I couldn't survive alone while all my friends were dead. I just couldn't." Éponine began to sob, and Enjolras sat down beside her.
"Where do you hurt? Can I move you?" He asked gently, and Éponine shook her head. There was a black hole in her hand, dripping with blood.
"It hurts everywhere. Just please, stay with me. Please." Enjolras nodded stoically. "I'm sorry," She whispered. "I didn't mean to die so quickly."
"Well you're not dead, so you needn't worry." He replied, stroking her face. "I just didn't expect you to be here. I suppose I should have. You're a stubborn soul." Éponine laughed, but the pain was too much, and she started convulsing. "Shhh." Enjolras pulled her into him gently. "I'm here."
"Monsieur Enjolras…" She croaked, and he looked down at her, with watery eyes.
"Yes, Mademoiselle?" He smiled at her, but it failed him as it wavered.
"Win it for me." The corners of her mouth curved up into a feeble smile.
And then everything went black.
A/N: It carries on from here. I don't want to give away any spoilers but this definitely isn't the last chapter. I'm sure you can tell that everything in this chapter, from the scenes to the dialogue to the sequence, was inspired by the musical and the movie. And to give credit, the dialogue between Éponine and Azelma was inspired by a conversation that Tsarevich Alexei of Russia had with his older sister. It reminded me strongly of Éponine, God knows why. I suppose it's because she probably always knew that her life wouldn't be that long anyway, were she to live on the streets for all of it.