I never would have guessed that a few lines of Montparnasse would make people so happy! I fear we're back to the Gardens again, but so it goes. At least you now have a hope that this will be more than just sitting on a bench and listening to Combeferre moralize and try to indoctrinate. Good times.

I have something to admit: almost everything up to this point was pre-written. I have a pretty good idea of where I'm going from here, but updates will probably be less frequent because I'll be writing as I go along. Sorry for any future delays.

Now with 800 percent more Robespierre and proto-socialism! Welcome to the Montagnard movement, folks.

The stuff at the beginning comes from the Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen. How much it actually applied to women is debatable, but details. Hugo would give me funny looks if he learned what I'm doing to his poor characters, but they're still his.

There were, Combeferre thought, few simple pleasures as unexpectedly rewarding as strolling through the Luxembourg on a fine August morning with a lovely young woman on one's arm. To be fair, Eponine was no beauty – the hairs escaping her bonnet were lank, her eyes had protruded disconcertingly until he had become used to them, and her complexion and frame bespoke borderline starvation despite his best efforts – but it was remarkable how much just a new wardrobe had done for her appearance. It seemed to him that her posture was straighter, her demeanor steadier, and her smile wider (although she wisely did her best to cover that truly unfortunate set of teeth). However, what really mattered was not how she looked but what she was saying.

Combeferre quickly glanced about them to make sure no one was following them too closely, then leaned in and requested softly, "Say it again."

Eponine nodded and grinned. "The representatives of the French people, organized as a National Assembly, believing that the negl – no – ignorance, neglect or contempt of the rights of man are the sole… sole cause of public calamities and of the, the…"

"Corruption."

"That's it! …the corruption of governments have determined to set forth in a solemn declaration the natural, unalienable, and sacred rights of man, in order that this declaration, being constantly before all the members of the Social body, shall remind them continually of their rights and duties; in order-"

"Very good, but that's far enough. You spoke of the "sacred rights of man." Does that mean that the things listed apply only to males?"

"No! It's for women too!"

"Precisely. Now, article eleven says, "The free communication of…"

"Of…of ideas and opinions is one of the most precious of the rights of man."

"Article four: "Liberty consists in…"

"…the freedom to do everything which harms no one else."

"Yes! And what does that mean?"

"Exactly what it says. I can do whatever I want so long as it don't–"

"'Doesn't,' Eponine, not 'don't.'"

" 'm sorry. So long as it doesn't harm no one…er, anyone else."

Combeferre beamed at her. "There is an article which states very explicitly that the government can not limit your liberty as you just defined it. What does that article say?"

"Number…five?" Combeferre nodded. "Law can only prohibit such actions as are hurtful to society?"

"It's not a question; it's a ringing proclamation! Say it as such! Only," he added, as a passing gentleman shot them a questioning look, "perhaps quietly."

"Law can only prohibit such actions as are hurtful to society!"

"Oh, Eponine! How far you've come!"

"Thank you, Monsieur Combeferre."

At that moment, they passed a cluster of three young men. Combeferre thought he might have recognized one from the medical school. The two groups acknowledged each other politely as they passed; Combeferre tipped his hat without even thinking, and the other young men bowed slightly at Eponine. He felt his companion stiffen at the strangers' actions.

"What's wrong?" he questioned when they were out of earshot.

"Hypocrites!" she hissed angrily. "I recognized the tallest of 'em. Sometimes, he sees me in the street and yells rude things at me. He didn't realize it was me, I don't think. When your revolution – our revolution – happens, I'll clap from the foot of the guillotine when he loses his head, when all the people like him are killed."

"Eponine, no! Where did you get such ideas? 'Revolution, but civilization,' I say. Even if the revolution must happen, which I pray it does not, it must be conducted with the utmost respect for human life!"

"Yes, but what if talking's not enough? I know lots of people think it won't be. How about this? 'Terror, without which virtue is powerless. Terror is nothing other than justice, prompt, severe, inflexible; it is therefore an emanation of virtue; it is not so much a special principle as it is a consequence of the general principle of democracy applied to our country's most urgent needs.'"

Combeferre stopped and gaped at her in disbelief. "Robespierre?" She glared back at him defiantly. "Where did you learn Robespierre?"

"You tell me to better myself. Don't get mad at me for studying!"

"No, I would never! But…Robespierre."

"Yes! Robespierre! He was important, right? Then I should know about him."

"Of course, but that doesn't mean you need to support his views!"

" 'Course not. But I always heard people sayin' bad things about him, so I thought I should learn more. And I did. I think I like what he says. You can't have good things happen if the bad people are still around. They need to be killed, 'cause they're not gonna give up power willingly. I know I wouldn't if I was rich."

"A debate over the necessity of terror," murmured Combeferre, guiding Eponine to a bench where he hoped no one would hear them. "I would not have anticipated…yet I am glad we have reached this point. So, Mademoiselle, tell me exactly what you think of Robespierre. Perhaps we may reach some kind of consensus."

"Everyone says that he was evil and bloodthirsty. He executed a lot of people, but I don't think he enjoyed it. He never watched people die for fun or anything. And way more people died in Napoleon's battles than in the Terror, right?"

"Yes, but isn't it different to execute an innocent person than to kill an enemy soldier in battle? I despise war, our group is striving to reach a future when there will be no more war, but the guillotine is still more horrific than the cannon, I think."

"But the people killed weren't innocent! They were aristocrats and counterrevolutionaries trying to hurt the Republic."

"All of them? Is it really a crime to be born rich?"

"You've never been hungry like I have, Monsieur Combeferre. Sometimes, I see carriages ride past when I'm starving and I feel like no one could blame me for leaping in and stealing their gold because they have so much of it to spare and I don't have any and that's not fair at all."

Combeferre suppressed the surge of sympathy and disgust that threatened to overwhelm him; this was too important for him to be silenced by compassion. "But does that mean that they deserve to die? Are they criminals because of their birth?"

"Do you remember when we first met? You told me that the world is unjust because any rich man could throw me in jail if he wanted to because he's powerful. If they can call me a criminal just 'cause I'm poor, then I can call them bad just 'cause they're rich. They don't care if I live or die and I feel the same way about them."

He nodded understandingly. "It is a terrible situation for all; you lose your dignity and they lose their souls. But what solution would you propose?"

"Why, we'll have our revolution. When we win, we'll tell the rich people that they have to share their money now. If they don't, we'll kill them."

"And how will you decide how to distribute the wealth?"

"I…everyone will get the same amount, I guess."

"Regardless of where they work or what they do? I fear that you are too utopian, even for me. The sad truth is that people will not work hard, if at all, if they are guaranteed their wages regardless. The economy would fail, and we must first have prosperity in order for that prosperity to be divided."

"…oh," she replied in a small voice, looking at her feet. However, her gaze quickly shot back up with redoubled fierceness. "There has to be something we can do!"

"Keep thinking, then. What is your solution, if we are to both exterminate want and encourage production?"

"Well, I would make sure that no one was starving, at least. No one should have to die because they're poor." She looked at him questioningly, searching for approval. He simply stared back, willing her to continue. Her brow furrowed as she bit her lower lip in concentration. "People…should be rewarded if they work hard. There shouldn't be any kings or nobles living at Versailles, but…better food and better homes and stuff. Carriages for people who work really hard. And school for everyone, right?"

Combeferre beamed proudly. "Yes! That's exactly it: basic provisions for living for all, luxuries for those who earn them. It's more complicated than that, but you have the idea."

"And if the noblemen try to stay rich when they don't deserve it, we'll kill them!"

"You bloodthirsty little radical!"

"What? I don't see any other way of making them give up their power."

Combeferre sighed, familiar with such arguments, albeit ones presented in a rather more coherent and eloquent fashion. Regardless, he knew that the time for which he had been preparing these last months had finally come.

"Eponine, I don't care what my group's policy on women is; it's time for you to meet Enjolras."