Bonjour mes beaux et miserable amis! Well, my audition for Les Mis was yesterday… and IT WENT PERFECTLY! ^_^ Let's hope I get cast. I was the youngest auditionee there, and there are over 200 auditonees in all, so let's pray! Anyway, I've gotten a request for some É/E from a couple of you Little Lovelies. I actually love this shipping, which I guess you wouldn't really expect since I ship E/R like crazy! BTW, see if you can catch the reference to Chapter Four: Enjolras in IKEA! ;) Free one-shot for anyone who does. Here are your replies from chapters five and six:
Solaria daughter of Apollo: I'm really glad you thought it was well-written; thank you! I do use OCs! :3 And sure, some crazy fluffy 'Ponine/R coming up soon!
frustratedstudent: I do agree.
Lestatlover1784: Thank you, my dear! 'Ponine/Enjy coming up as requested!
stagepageandscreen: You're crying? Honest to Dieu crying? You may not know, but I've always wanted my writing to make someone cry. Oh my gosh. I'm freaking out. ^_^
ConcreteAngelRoxHerHalo: Sorry about your feelings, mon ami!
unicorn24601: Wow… you really love that shipping, I see. Well, it shall be done!
Kansas: Lil' Cosette/Gavroche? That could be cute! Hmm… I'll see what I can do. Now, about your OC. I don't believe that I'll do an entire separate story about the tomboyish Camille. But I'd be glad to do a chapter!
And finally… jf: JackalFoxx… can it really be you? Are you back? Where did you go? F and I missed you! And thank you! I'm glad you still like my writing as much as you used to. I'm so glad you're back! Please PM me so we can catch up!
XXX
Pontmercy barged into the Musain with that urchin girl at his heels, as per usual. He was going on about some young woman he had seen, a blonde lark called Cosette. Every time Pontmercy said the girl's name, the urchin flinched, as if physically pained. Throughout the entire meeting, Pontmercy took over the conversation, excitedly describing his chance meeting with his Cosette over and over. He told of her blonde hair ("The color of the sun's rays!"), her blue eyes ("As deep and mysterious as the ocean!") and her smile ("It caught me so off guard – oh, I will never be able to equate a smile with hers!). Courfeyrac and Bahorel poked fun at the young man throughout the meeting, calling him an "infatuated pup." Grantaire even joined in the fun at one point, asking a question so wildly inappropriate about the girl that everyone in the Musain – even womanizing Courfeyrac – turned red and go silent.
After what must have been an hour of Pontmercy's dreamy sighs and far off expressions, the urchin girl jolted upright in her chair, choked out a sob, and exited the Musain running. Everyone appeared a bit confused, but passed it off as a bit of unrequited love and resumed their conversation. Joly was subject to some gentle teasing from Bossuet about his hypochondria after checking his tongue in the reflection of a spoon for the eleventh time that night. Everyone roared with laughter, and the night wore on.
The only one still thinking about the urchin girl's dramatic exit was Enjolras. He was perturbed. No one exited so violently without reason; it was simple logic. Finally, after some minutes brooding on the issue, the marble man stood up abruptly. "Combeferre, you are in charge," he directed. "I'll be back soon." Without further explanation, he calmly strode out. When outside the Musain, Enjolras contemplated on how to find the upset urchin. He knew very little of her – not even her name – so he wasn't quite sure where to find her. He knew of the shadier corners of Paris, often visiting there himself to urge the people to rise against the tyranny that subjected them to living on the streets like dogs. He didn't think the young girl would be there. She had to be street smart and savvy; able to protect herself – Enjolras didn't doubt that – but to be these things, she had to at least know that aforementioned shadowy corners were unsafe for girls.
He shuddered to think of what fate might befall her there.
Quickening his pace, Enjolras found himself walking toward the Seine. There, on the bridge, was Pontmercy's urchin, curled in on herself and shaking. Though it was rather cold out, Enjolras suspected that the lack of warmth wasn't the complete reason for her shivers. He approached the girl and put a hand on her shoulder.
She jerked and slapped his hand away, glaring up at him through her ratty, snarled hair. "Go 'way!" the girl shouted. "I ain't ever gonna do the kinda thing you want, even if I'm starvin' to death!"
Enjolras's cheeks burned. For once, Apollo was a shade other than marble-white. "Mademoiselle… I-I assure you I had no intention of –" he started.
"Oi… sorry, then," the girl said, wiping her tear-stained face free of mucus and tears. "Thought you were 'Parnasse. 'E keeps tellin' me to go down t' the docks. Says it'll earn more money fer my family."
Enjolras was slightly taken aback. "I… do not know who this 'Parnasse fellow is, but I can assure you he is not worth your time if he thinks you should do… such activities as a profession. You are much too good for that."
The dirty young thing looked up at him. "Me? Yer jokin', ain't ya? I ain't good enough for nothin'." She wasn't fishing for compliments as some self-deprecating grisettes did; she was telling what she thought to be the honest truth.
Enjolras held out a hand to her. "But this is untrue, mademoiselle," he argued. She took his hand, and he pulled her up. "You come to all of our meetings, do you not? You don't speak up much, but when you do, what you have to say is quite intelligent. I agree with your views; they are impressive." He realized he was still holding her hand, and rather awkwardly dropped it.
The girl looked disappointed for a moment, but then gave a cheeky grin. "Well, M'sieur here is givin' me the best compliments I've ever heard, and I don't even know yer name. Silly girl, I am!"
Enjolras felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She really was quite pretty when she smiled. He held out his hand formally for a handshake. "Well, lovely to make your acquaintance, mademoiselle. My name is Julien Enjolras, and you?"
She shook his hand and grinned again. "Eponine… 'r 'Ponine. Whichever ya prefer."
"Hmm," Enjolras mused, "quite a pretty name."
Eponine blushed twenty shades of red. "P-pretty?" she stammered. "Ain't no one ever called me 'r my name pretty b'fore."
Enjolras felt a rush of pity flow through his veins for this poor scrap. She was obviously hopelessly in love with Pontmercy, and from the way he had been going on about his Cosette tonight; he could guess the heartbreak 'Ponine was feeling. She was dirty – a bit odorous to be frank – poor, and seemingly had no one to care for her. She couldn't have been more than eighteen. A mere child, really. Someone calling her name pretty – a passing comment to be received with a tiny "thank you" on anyone else's part – seemed to make her feel truly special.
Enjolras had to help her.
He smiled at her. "Well, it is a lovely name for a lovely girl." At her stunned, silly smile, and deep blush, he had to admit that the girl really was quite lovely. Beauty coated in grime, as it were. "Without coming across as having incorrect intentions," he started carefully, "would you like to spend the night at my flat?" At her mildly panicked expression, Enjolras smiled gently. "Nothing like that, mademoiselle. I promise. You can trust me. I can help you, you see."
Eponine's eyes narrowed. "You can 'elp me, ya say?" she growled.
"Oui," Enjolras said excitedly, thinking of how he could possibly acquire her a prettier dress, give her a few hot meals… maybe he really good help the girl! Though the young man had always been charitable, he had never been this excited about it.
Eponine glared death at him. She clapped her hands slowly, a sardonic smile spreading across her face. "Well, well. Lookee 'ere, world. Monsieur Enjolras wants to 'elp a poor street urchin. I ain't gonna be the good deed that gets ya into Heaven, Monsieur," she said darkly. "I ain't gonna be some pet project fer a rich student who wants to delve int' the shady side 'a life fer an adventure."
"That's not what –" Enjolras stammered.
"Oui, it is," Eponine argued. "What d'ya think ya'd do with me anyway? Shove me into a nice new dress…" – on these, words, she mocked – "… gimme a few decent meals? 'N then what, Monsieur? When yer tired 'a providin' fer someone who can't even pay rent? Will ya kick me back t' the street?" At Enjolras's defiant expression, she snickered. "Ya know it's true." With that, she flounced away.
XXX
For a few days after this incident, Enjolras replayed their conversation in his mind. What had he said wrong? The thought plagued him for hours, and he found himself unable to sleep for those three nights in a row. Finally, on the third day, Combeferre took the harried revolutionary aside.
"Enjolras, mon ami, what's wrong?" the bespectacled boy asked. "For the past few days, you've looked as if you didn't sleep, and you're not eating. You haven't talked about Patria since Tuesday. Is something the matter?"
Enjolras shook his head. "No. Yes. No. I'm… unsure."
Combeferre offered his friend a smile. "Might I ask what that means, 'Jolras?"
"This… young woman… has me quite flustered," he admitted. He went on to tell Combeferre the whole unfortunate saga, from finding Eponine crying on the bridge and deciding to help her, to being spurned by her. "I don't see what I've done wrong," Enjolras almost pouted. "I was kind and civil; I didn't say anything out of line!"
Combeferre fought a chuckle. "My dear friend, you're in love," he said with a smile. "It's as simple as that."
Enjolras cocked his head. "I'm in love with Eponine? In love, you say?" Of course, he knew what love was. He'd seen it in nearly all of the Amis. Many grisettes all but threw themselves at him. But he? In love? It didn't make sense. But at the same time… it did.
XXX
That night, he found her again. She was in the exact same spot as before, curled in on herself with shaking shoulders. Enjolras found himself wondering if Pontmercy had caused this, and thought he would quite like to smack the freckled man. He approached her cautiously. "Eponine?" he asked.
She looked up and glared through her tears. "Oi. What d'ya want, Enjolras?"
He sat down beside her and very primly announced, "I am in love with you."
Eponine gave him a wary glance. "Um… are ya right in the 'ead, M'sieur? Yer lookin' a bit flushed."
Enjolras calmly explained of his sleepless nights and his conversation with Combeferre, and how the intellectual student had come to the conclusion that Enjolras was, in fact, in love with Eponine. "So you see: I must be in love with you," Enjolras ended somewhat proudly.
"But… you didn't come t' this conclusion yerself?" the gamin asked slowly.
"No," Enjolras said happily.
"And…?"
"And?"
"Well… if ya didn't come t' the conclusion yerself, then how do ya know yer in love with me?"
"Ah… that."
"Oui, that."
"Well, I suppose I could find out for myself."
"How 'r ya proposin' ya do that, exactly? I'm still angry with ya."
"I didn't do anything!"
"Yer whinin'. The revolutionary leader… whinin'. Oi, 'ere I thought I'd seen it all."
"I am not "whining" as you say. I am simply upset with your conclusion that I've wronged you when I have been over and over the argument in my head and I have said nothing wrong!" Enjolras shouted. "I think about you all the time, and I know that I said nothing wrong!"
That gave Eponine some pause. "Ya… think about me all th' time?" she asked.
"Well of course!" Enjolras snapped. "When you're in love, is that not what you do?"
Eponine nodded. "More 'r less. But 'ere's the catch – how would yer friends react t' you falling fer a gamin girl?"
"They would not care," Enjolras said confidently. "We support those in all walks of life."
Eponine thought about this for a moment.
"Pontmercy broke your heart; you have every reason not to trust me, but if you do," Enjolras said, "I would be glad to have you."
"'Ave me?"
Enjolras blushed. "That came out wrong. I – gah! Never mind. Would you like to come to my flat? The offer still stands. It's quite cold out here."
Eponine gave a smile. "Ya know what… sure. 'Ow about it." They stood, and Enjolras awkwardly put his arm around her. Yes, Eponine thought. This will do quite nicely.
