Okay. Hello to my new followers! You cannot imagine how much I love all of you for reading my stuff! Feel hugged and fed with tons of double chocolate chip cookies!

I posted three days in a row! I am pretty sure I won't be able to post tomorrow but I try to upload the next chapter on Friday!

This chapter has an Enjolras speech in it. Please imagine this speech is a lot better than I what I wrote. :)

And please please leave a comment! Review! Let me know what you think!

Chapter 9

Enjolras rose from his seat. It was time for his nightly speech. Actually, it was past his usual time. He had a speech already set when he came to the cafe that night but as soon as the idea for the new one came he knew he had to write it down.

He had scribbled it down like a maniac, as Grantaire had put it.

Usually he talked about the problems with the government and what had to change. And what those solutions would create. His new France. His dream. But not tonight.

Tonight he suddenly knew what he needed to tell them – what he had to tell them. He would tell them some of the reasons he fell in love with this country. And its people.

Tonight he would make them fall in love with this country and its people as much as he already was.

Bonsoir, mes amis.

As you might expect this speech tonight to be about our new republic or about how to solve the problems we all know about too well you will be disappointed.

Tonight I will talk about the reason behind our actions. I want to show you what we are doing this for. I know your reasons for participating in this rebellion – in this revolution. I know you've all seen the injustice that is the norm. You've seen little children slowly dying in the streets, sick and hungry. You've seen their mothers selling themselves to save them. You've seen their fathers begging for help. And a lot more. You've seen the corrupted people, the thieves, the drunkards – all of them. Poverty and starvation made some of them forget all concepts of morality they have had before.

But did you actually ever really look at the people you see? The human beings behind the pity you feel for them? Let me tell you about them for I have looked at them and know some.

The man who steals the money out of your pocket. He has two children and a wife, all living in the slums. He works as much as he possibly can and still it never seems to be enough. He is frustrated and tired of this life. And yet there is still pride. He is not begging for money. He earned it. He is being payed less than what he deserved so he takes what is his from another mans pocket. And when he comes home with the food he bought with this money – and when he sees his children safe and fed he is happy.

It is him we are fighting for!

And the woman who sells herself. You look upon her with lust or with disgust or with pity. That woman was forced into this. You might say you would rather die than disgrace yourself like that. But would you really? And if she, too, was feeding a family? If her decrease kept her kids alive? Or what if it's paying the medicine for her mother? What would you think of her then? It might not has been her choice.

It is her we are fighting for!

And the little boy who lives in the streets of Paris – all on his own. Stealing and lying his way through life. He is following his human instincts. He is hungry, so he needs food. If stealing any lying are the only ways he gets his mouthful of stale bread he will do it. Would you not?

How is he ever supposed to be able to learn what could enable him to get out of the place in society he is assigned to? How will he ever find honest work that brings in enough money to keep a family alive? There is no way out. But does he ever give up? No.

It is the little boy we are fighting for!

And the young girl who struggles through life? She gets raped. She gets beaten. And yet she is unafraid to speak her mind. She is defending herself and others. She has nothing but still she cares about others. She cares more than most other people would do. Because despite stealing and lying and starvation she is a good person. Better than some of us.

It is her we are fighting for!

All you feel when you look at them is pity. Do you want to know what I feel when I look at them? Pride and admiration. I admire their strength. I admire their fierceness. I admire their will to pull through no matter how hard it seems. I admire their choice to keep trying even though giving up would be so easy. And I am proud to be their fellow countryman. I am proud they are part of France.

Whatever wrong they have done and still do most of them are not to blame! They are good people. Better than those pigs who govern our country. And I want to free them from their struggle. They deserve it. I want to give them the opportunity to live an honest life – to live up to their potential. Without the fear of being beaten or imprisoned or shunned by richer fellows. I want them to forget how an empty stomach feels like.

They are people just like we are. They feel, they think, they live. From day to day they live. No matter what.

And so help me God – they will be the kings and queens of the new, the equal France.

Éponine heard the cheers from les amis as she stepped out of the cafe. Tears were freely streaming down her face now as she was sliding down on the wall of the building. She shadows of the night were hiding her.

No pity. Admiration and pride.

It was true. Whenever there were people who actually looked at the poor in Saint Michele one could find pity in their eyes. Sometimes some of them used this to earn some money. Make up fake stories. Beg. Marius, too pitied her. Sometimes it was written all over his face. The only real emotion he ever directed to her. And it was enough to fuel her affection for him. Better than anything else she ever got.

Admiration.

Never ever combined that word with her face. Of course Enjolras didn't mention her name. But just as he started with the first few sentences about the young girl he glanced at her with sincerity in his eyes. It was clear who he was talking about. Gavroche and her could both be found in his speech. And he admired them. Never were the wretched and poor admired. Until now.

She had left the cafe before anyone could see her tears. After Gavroche arrived and told her about the rest of his day, he was with Courfeyrac. He stuck to his adoptive brother like glue. She was alone when the leader held his speech. And it was better this way. Gav would only be worried – he was too young to understand what those words meant to her.

The marble man. Out of all of les amis he was the last one she expected to have such a realistic view on the poor, to feel such empathy. His other topics were different. More analytical. A mathematicians topic. Tonight's speech was the first one that really touched her.

She hadn't felt like that ever since her parents lost the inn. Proud. He made her feel proud of who she was and how she lived her life. Proud and admired.

Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe Enjolras had what it takes to rally the people and overthrow the government.

So...? How was the speech? I am not even sure if I could write a good speech in my mother tongue but in English. Well, I hope it was somehow bearable and you know what I wanted to say with it.

Review please!

This has by the way been one of my favorite chapters so far.

Review!