26/3/13
Bonjour Mes Amis! I love you all for the support you have given me making this now my most popular fanfic I have written and it is in a small fandom! Sorry for the slightly shorter chapter … I have been addicted to a fanfiction – Captain Scaramouche Series by TWSythar! Read it … it is amazing :)
Stagepageandscreen – Thanks a lot for your review and I am glad you like. I felt that Compromised just fit so well in with the concept of this fic
ConcreteAngelRoxHerHalo – I hope this satisfies your interest mon ami
Almost an Actress – Thanks a lot! General angst is my speciality, I can make any chapter depressing … not that good a skill … anyway I believe Jehan is the character no one can not like (excuse the double negative)! My faves are Grantaire, Enjolras, Combeferre, Jehan – in that order!
Little-miss-laughs-a lot – You'll have to wait and see … muhahaha. Also your fic is coming along nicely and I dare say I am enjoying it
Everybody's chaperon – awww *blushes* you guys are so sweet. Physcology makes ff so much more interesting and real. And as for Grantaire, I see his feelings for Enjolras being more lust, desire, and idolisation than love. It more that he needs his Apollo!
Noroell – Well conspiracy to treason is a major offense, coupled with disturbing the peace as well. They need to make an example and a certain blonde revolutionary has practically signed up for it!
Juliet116 – Well I look forward to seeing if anyone gets my hints and if we are still on the same wavelength mon ami!
Sarahbob – Thanks so much … have I said how much I love your fanfictions and support from other great writers I love makes me feel all nice inside! I have already read then next chapter of No Place for A Revolutionary … LOVE'D IT!
GraeGrae – hehe don't cry in class … I've done that when reading – it is terribly embarrassing!
Chapter 10
Courfeyrac was as shocked at the state of Grantaire's hideout as Combeferre. He just didn't hide it as well. Everytime something squeaked or rattled on the floor, the well-off student flinched. He just couldn't see how people lived in such places; let alone people who he knew. This was why he was fighting. Courfeyrac was fighting for a new start for people such as this; so they could live proper lives out of hell holes similar to this one. Where Combeferre walked ignoring the conditions, Courfeyrac naturally exaggerated his situation. That was just who he was; caring, compassionate but a drama queen at times. He banged on the door and squealed when it growled menacingly. Thumps echoed inside the room. The door was swung open with a piercing wail. "Ferre, please go away, I feel bad enough as it is," he moaned without looking at the figure in the doorway. Grantaire was in even worse state than the day before when Combeferre had seen him. His beard was bristly and unkempt and he was in desperate need of a shave. Days after days of no sleep had left his eyes sunken and dejected; they looked like all hope was lost. The flickering light shone of his pale sickly skin and he was none too pleased to see Courfeyrac. "I give one person my address and suddenly everyone knows," he grumbled slamming the door in Courfeyrac's face. Courfeyrac just stood there gawping at the decaying door. He then knocked again hesitantly. "Go away Courf!" he shouted from inside.
"Combeferre sent me, we need your help to rescue Enj," he shouted through the paper thin door.
"Since when did you all suddenly need me!" he shouted back gruffly.
"Nicolas Grantaire open this door or I will kick it down!" Courfeyrac shouted and the door swung open again.
"Whatever your plan is it won't work!" he shouted and tried to shut the door again but this time Courfeyrac had predicted his movements. The smaller boy was inside the apartment before Grantaire could move. "Courf!" Grantaire exclaimed. Courfeyrac was too busy gawping. Grantaire's one room flat was converted into a scruffy war room. Maps and diagrams nailed onto the walls hung limply. Papers scattered the floor and fire arms were hastily tucked under a blanket. He walked over to the main wall that had a massive map of the square with various positions marked upon it; where Enjolras would come from, where the guillotine would be positioned, where the most guards would be stationed … everything.
"Wow," Courfeyrac murmured and Grantaire sighed.
"Please leave," he murmured knowing that Monsieur de Courfeyrac was never going to leave now.
"No way … what the hell are you doing Taire?" Courfeyrac asked examining more of the pages scattered on his decaying table.
"Robin, just don't ask," Grantaire insisted but he was not backing down.
"You're trying to save him," Courfeyrac remarked with a smile.
"What will it take to get you to leave?" Grantaire commented, deliberately avoiding the previous statement.
"I need you to tell me your plan and help with ours," Courfeyrac grinned.
"No!" Grantaire said bluntly with as much strength as his weakened body could muster. "What are you going to do if I don't?" he exclaimed, weakening slightly and having to clear some space on a chair so he could sit down.
"I will have to alert Monsieur Lucien Combeferre and he is not in a good mood at the moment," Courfeyrac chuckled mischievously. Grantaire groaned.
"I agree … on one term. You do not ask the details of my plan and you do not try to stop me. I need to do this alone and no one will like it," he mumbled, playing with the strands of the bandage round his arm.
One after the other strands were pulled out and deposited on the floor. The practice kept Grantaire's frantic mind steady and had a repetitive motion to keep his trembling hands steady. He had to be sober … but it was so hard. The wine called to him in a sweet symphony and the harmony of absinthe rang through his pounding head. The liquor called to him with a melodious voice and he felt his concentration waver. "Grantaire, R? Are you alright?" Courfeyrac's voice broke through the poisonous fog clouding his thoughts.
"Nicolas," he said clearly; it was as if his voice was a sweet breeze blowing away the fog that had its grasp on his mind. The wispy fingers released his tense mind and he slumped forwards with a groan. "R … are you alright?" Courfeyrac asked cautiously. "You sort of blanked out on me there," he mumbled.
"I'm fine," he stated sitting up straight again. "Do you agree to my terms?" he asked snapping back into his professional state, ignoring the pounding in his head.
"I agree," Courfeyrac conceded with a sigh and Grantaire smiled weakly; he was trying to remain strong and in control in front of his friend. Where they friends? Associates? People who share the same friends? People who happen to vaguely know each other?
After an hour and a bit Courfeyrac was leaving Grantaire's apartment equipped with maps and information that he could relay back to Combeferre. Overall it was a successful mission. He set off with a small spring in his step back to the Musian.
Grantaire shut the door and let out a pent up exasperated sigh. Courfeyrac was challenging to put up with at the best of times let alone when in the initial stages of alcohol withdrawal. But he had a plan to put into action. There was no time for Robin or liquor. It was time to go on a raid.
A/N – I am sorry it is so short butschool is just so urggg at the moment but I should be back to normal length for my update on the 29th
Also in your review would you be able to say if you believe this fic would suit a happy ending or a sad ending?
