A/N okay, so I know it's been a long while, but here's chapter 11. This story is almost over, only a couple more chapters left. So, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 11
Claire was seated on a hard bench with Enjolras on her right and Grantaire on her left. There was a table in front of them, a table that had somehow avoided becoming part of the barricade. All three of them had guns pressed painfully to their heads, and they had been warned several times that any wrong move would result in death. Sitting across from the three of them was the head officer, twirling his mustache with his fingers and contemplating. They'd been sitting this way for over an hour. Claire could feel how tense Grantaire and Enjolras were, but she was just worried. At some point she would have to tell them who she really was.
The head officer cleared his throat.
"Where are you holding the princess? Tell us now or things will go very hard for you." He said, resting his palms on the table and leaning forward. "Do you mind if I smoke?" He asked politely, pulling out a cigar and lighting it without waiting for an answer.
"I won't say anything until they're freed." Claire stated, gesturing towards Enjolras and Grantaire.
"What're you playing at, you fool!?" Grantaire hissed, earning himself a whack in the back of the head from one the soldiers standing behind them.
"I can't do that, you know. There are other ways to make you talk." The head officer said, taking a long drag on his cigar and blowing the smoke out in Claire's face.
Claire grimaced and turned away, ignoring the obvious threat.
"His arm, Lieutenant." The head officer demanded, and Claire's arm was forced onto the table.
The Head officer took the cigar out of his mouth and blew on the tip of it, making the embers glow red. He lowered the burning tip to Claire's arm and seared its mark into her flesh. Claire closed her eyes and groaned against the pain. The cigar was removed, and the head officer looked into Claire's eyes. Claire only smirked.
"That was not beneficial, seeing as you still don't have the location of the princess."
The Head soldier frowned.
"Stand him up." He ordered, and rough hands grabbed Claire by the shoulders and hauled her to her feet.
They pulled her to the center of the room, where the bodies of her friends had just recently been dragged away to be placed in a heap by the ruined staircase. The soldiers released her, and she stood there defiantly, her feet a shoulder width apart and her arms straight down by her sides. The head soldier dropped his cigar and stamped it out with his heel before standing and striding to stand a foot away from her. His hand lashed out quickly and there was a resounding sound of his palm meeting the left side of Claire's face. He had a ring on his finger and it tore through the skin, leaving a shallow cut.
Claire's head snapped to the right, her face feeling as if it were on fire, but she whipped it around quickly and glared at the mustached man. There was the sound of a struggle and Claire could see out of the corner of her eyes that Enjolras and Grantaire were trying to stand, but they were shoved back down and hit in the back of their heads with pistol butts.
A fist came out of nowhere and hit Claire on the nose. Her head swung backwards and she took an involuntary step back. She felt her hat beginning to slide off her head and she pulled it back down over her head as she straightened up and wiped the blood trickling from her nostrils.
"Do you believe this is helping you?" She asked, genuinely curious.
The soldier replied by placing a punch in the underside of Claire's chin, the ring leaving another bloody cut. Her teeth snapped together and she bit down on her tongue, hard. She grimaced as she turned her face to the head officer. She worked her mouth and then spit out a stream of spittle and blood which landed on his blue uniform. The mustached man calmly reached into his pocket and drew out a white handkerchief and wiped away the gob of spit from his jacket.
He replaced the kerchief back into its pocket before rearing back, preparing to punch her in the stomach. Claire knew that if he succeeded, he would definitely break a rib or two. She braced herself, preparing for the impact. Before the head officer could follow through with his punch, however, a sound near the broken staircase caused him to turn. Claire looked over his shoulder to see a man with dull blue eyes and a blue jacket that was buttoned all the way up to his stubbly chin with brass buttons. The look was completed with a blue peaked hat. His eyes locked onto Claire, standing in the center of the room, her face bloodied by her nose and the cut on her cheek and underside of her chin.
"Javert." Claire hissed, taking a step forward.
A hand wrapped around her arm and tried to pull her back but she shook it off. This only resulted in her being knocked in the back with the butt of a rifle. She fell to her hands and knees.
Javert stepped over the bodies of her friends and walked to stand in front of Claire. He leaned down and pulled her ungracefully to her feet.
"What is the meaning of this?" He asked angrily, turning towards the head soldier. "Explain yourselves! Now!"
The head officer yanked his hat from his head and stood at attention.
"The boy has information regarding the princess, Sir." He said, gesturing towards Claire. "He refused to say anything. I was left with force being the only option, Sir."
"Of course he does, you fool! And them?" Javert said, nodding towards Enjolras and Grantaire. They looked back at him with resentment in their eyes.
"The boy said he would kill himself if we executed them, Sir. And that we would never see the princess alive." The head officer replied, taking a step forward.
"Of course you wouldn't see the princess alive again! If this boy killed himself, the princess would die as well! You devious little-" He said, turning back to Claire.
"Show them who you are." He commanded, glowering down at her.
"You haven't got the right to be telling me what to do." Claire said angrily, spitting out more blood onto the floor.
"You are coming with me-" Javert started, advancing on her.
"They are to go free, first!" Claire said, backing away and pointing at Enjolras and Grantaire. "That's all I've been asking-"
Javert reached forward with his left hand and wrapped it around Claire's right arm. He pulled her to him and placed her in front of him so that her back was to his chest and they both faced their audience. The soldiers all looked confused and unsure what to do, Enjolras looked furious, and Grantaire looked as if he were trying to figure out a rather complex puzzle.
"They will be released, but not at this moment! Not yet." Javert said loudly. "Now show them who you are!"
Claire sighed angrily and reached up to wrap her fingers around the brim of her hat. She slid it forcefully off her head and threw it to the floor, much like a child throwing a temper tantrum. Her blonde braid tumbled from where it had been folded up under her hat. The now slightly loosened braid, sticky with dirt, gun powder, and blood, stopped a few inches below her breast and came to rest. Claire was breathing heavily in anger, and she lifted the back of her hand to wipe it under her nose, which was still bleeding.
The soldiers still looked confused, but recognition had crossed Enjolras's face. Grantaire, already knowing her as a girl, squinted at her like he was trying to see what lay beneath the grime, dirt, and blood that covered Claire's face.
"Alright!" Claire yelled, trying to pull away from Javert but failing. "Now release these men!" She shouted.
"Claire?! Claire! What're you- unhand her! Claire!" Enjolras cried frantically, jumping up and causing the bench he'd been sitting on to flip over backwards, sending Grantaire tumbling to the floor. "I told you to stay in the room! Let her go-"
A soldier reached for him but Enjolras spun quickly and knocked him to the ground. He was able to take a few more steps towards her before three strong men held him back, two on either side and one in front.
"Enjolras, I'm sorry, I can explain everything-" Claire began, but Javert cut her off.
"These men are coming with us!" He exclaimed as he pulled a white handkerchief from his own pocket and pressed it into Claire's palm. "Hold this to your face, Highness."
"Highness!?" Enjolras said angrily. "No, monsieur, there is a mistake! That is not the princess that is a street girl, a gamine! She has no business with the princess, she shouldn't be here, she-"
"Silence!" Javert cried. "Follow the carriage! Bring these men! Now!"
He began pushing Claire towards the hole where the stairs used to be.
"No! No! You said you would release them!" Claire yelled, turning and trying to fight against Javert. "Let them go! They haven't done anything! Stop! Enjolras!"
The soldiers looked unsure of what to do. She was the princess, after all, her words were practically law...
"Do not listen to her, she is simply in hysterics. She's not of her right mind as of this moment." Javert said, keeping a firm grip on Claire's arm.
A soldier jumped down the hole and held his arms up. Javert continued to push the resisting Claire, and because she was now being ushered backwards, she did not see the approaching gap in the floor. As she took an unwilling step backwards, her foot found open air instead of wood flooring and she disappeared from the second story of the café and into the awaiting soldier's arms. She struggled against him as well as he set her feet on the floor. Another soldier put a forceful hand on the small of her back and forced her to walk. His hand was replaced with Javert's as he opened the Café's door and pushed her out into the gray street. The cobblestone ground was practically flooded with streaming red blood and bodies of both soldiers and her friends were strewn everywhere. She was surrounded by men in blue as they approached a waiting carriage. She was ordered to step up into it and as she did, she twisted forcefully to glance behind her. In the sea of blue uniformed men, a red waistcoat stood out sharply.
Enjolras's eyes locked on Claire's for an instant before she was shoved the rest of the way into the carriage. She sat on the cushioned red velvet seats and glared at Javert as he climbed in and sat across from her.
"Your Highness-" He started, but Claire cut him off.
"You should be dead." Claire hissed, spitting more blood onto the carriage floor.
"You're injured." Javert said, ignoring her. "I will see that Officer Bruno is dealt with-"
"I do not care!" Claire cried, throwing her hands in the air. "I've been beaten before! This isn't a new experience for me! And don't act so innocent, monsieur, because you aren't guilt free here! I was handled roughly by you when you believed me to be a gamin!"
"You are not one to say who's guilty, Majesty." Javert said, leaning back. "Your mother and father have been worrying for weeks about your safety, only to see that you've been in cohorts with rebellious young men- who knows what you've done with them-" Javert accused, eyeing her.
Claire exploded in anger.
"What I've done?! What are you assuming, exactly?! What I've done is helped them with their cause and stand with them at the barricade as we got shot at! I stood by them as they were killed one by one because of my father-" Claire yelled, not realizing that the carriage door had been reopened by the head officer.
Javert noticed, however, and he saw that the two men that Claire had demanded be released were standing behind him, their hands cuffed with thick manacles. The one with curly black hair and brown eyes and pink cheeks seemed slightly drunk, but also a bit doubtful. The one with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes had an expression of deepest hatred, loathing, and defiance as he glared up at Javert.
"So you could, in all honesty, tell me that you haven't any...Unseemly feelings or interactions with any of these men you've been plotting with?" Javert asked, smirking.
"I don't have to answer to you, you bastard." Claire growled, but Javert could see her face turn the slightest bit pink.
"Sir!" The head officer, Officer Bruno, said, bringing Claire's attention to the open carriage door, and to Enjolras and Grantaire. "Are they to be marched behind the carriage, or-"
"Bring them in," Javert ordered. "And you as well. Bring an armed soldier in too; they must be under armed surveillance at all times."
Officer Bruno nodded, pushing Enjolras forward. He resisted, but another forceful shove caused him to trip up into the coach and land heavily on his knees. He looked up at Javert with fire in his eyes.
Claire reached down cautiously and placed her hands on Enjolras's elbows. He tensed, but allowed her to help him back to his feet. He moved unsteadily to sit on the cushioned seat to Claire's right. Grantaire entered next, but he didn't put up a fight. He sat dejectedly to Claire's left and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. Officer Bruno and another soldier, both armed with pistols that were pointed at Grantaire and Enjolras, ascended into the carriage. As they sat down across from them next to Javert, the carriage lurched forward, headed, Claire knew, to the castle.
Claire felt something drip onto her right pant leg, and she looked down to see a spot of blood. As she watch another drop joined it. She tilted her head to see the underside of Enjolras's jaw. It was clenched, and he was glaring out the window at the street as it blurred by. People were looking up at with surprise mixed with curiosity as it passed them. His cheek had a cut that was dripping.
"Enjolras, you're bleeding-" Claire said quietly, taking her thumb and wiping the blood from his face.
Enjolras didn't react, he just continued to glower.
"Highness," Javert started, and Claire grimaced.
"Do not call me that!" Claire said, shooting him with her frostiest frown.
"My apologies. I would advise you not speak to the prisoners-"
"Prisoners?!" Claire said angrily.
"-For fear of them manipulating you further-"
"Manipulating me further?! No, I assure you, sir, there was no manipulation involved-" Claire said indignantly.
Javert didn't answer, and the rest of the journey to the castle was made in awkward silence. When the carriage stopped in front of the huge grand entrance, the soldier closest to the door opened it and jumped out. He reached back in a grabbed Enjolras roughly by the elbow and hauled him out, then Grantaire. Javert stepped out after Officer Bruno and held out his hand for Claire. She reached for it, but pulled her hand back at the last moment. She descended without help and stood on the stone ground. She looked up at the castle, her home, and her face darkened.
Javert began to lead her in the opposite direction from where Officer Bruno was leading Enjolras and Grantaire. She stopped and turned.
"They are to stay with me!" She demanded, planting her feet on the ground.
"I cannot allow that." Javert answered, trying to get Claire moving again, but she didn't budge.
"They are to stay with me." Claire said in a voice so low and menacing that Javert looked taken aback.
He made a disapproving grunting sound, but Claire ignored his sound of protest.
"If they are not, Officer-"she lowered her voice threateningly and went to stand in front of Officer Bruno.
She grabbed his jacket and pulled his face lower to hers.
"If they do not stay with me, you will be immensely sorry. Do you understand? That is an order." She pushed him away and strode past Javert.
She walked up a large flight of marble steps with Javert right behind her. Officer Bruno nodded to his men and Grantaire and Enjolras were shuffled up the stairs as well, following the fuming girl. Claire banged on the huge castle door with her fist. The door was opened slightly by a timid serving maid, and Claire squeezed past her into the large entrance room. The ceiling was domed and everything was made of frothy white colored marble. Dozens of intricate vases with bouquets of purple, white, yellow, and pink flowers lined the walls and sat on the many marble columns. Portraits of past kings and queens cluttered the wall.
As Claire walked quickly by them, she saw her great grandfather, then her grandfather. She didn't look up when she passed her father's portrait, or her mothers, but she gave a slight pause as she passed the portrait of herself.
She had been fourteen at the time, and she had been wearing an incredibly uncomfortable puffy lavender ball gown. Her silvery crown had been placed high on her head. Her blonde hair had been braided and piled on her head in an elegant bun that had taken the four maids working on it hours to do, because many pearls and jewels had been woven into the braid. Claire hated the portrait, and she frowned up at it before racing around a corner of the main castle corridor.
She burst through a pair of large double doors that Claire knew led to the throne room, and a moment later they were opened again, less violently, by Javert and Officer Bruno, who was escorting the two revolutionists. Claire stormed in and strode up the long red carpet which led to the thrones.
"What in the- What is the meaning of this?!" She heard her father, King Louis Philippe, exclaimed in shock and anger as he took in her ragged and dirty form.
Claire stopped and looked up at him. He was sitting regally on his large throne, and Claire's mother was sitting on the slightly smaller throne beside him.
"Majesty!" Javert said, slightly out of breath as he bowed low. "I came to announce the arrival of Princess Clairette, your daughter." He stood up and gestured to Claire, who was also breathing heavily.
"My daughter- Clairette, my darling, can it be?" Claire's mother asked mouth agape. She stood quickly, her pink dress swirling around her ankles as she did so.
Claire rolled her eyes. She had probably practiced that action for hours just to get her dress to swirl perfectly like that. The queen hurried delicately down the small steps that led to the floor and rushed to where Claire was standing.
"Oh Claire, it is you! What has happened to you!? Why are you dirty?" She asked, taking her gloved hands and fluttering them around Claire, brushing off dirt and wiping blood from Claire's face. "Oh, Darling, you must have been so frightened! I'm so relieved that you're safe-"
"Ugh, Mother, get off!" Claire said, taking a step back.
Her father descended the steps and stood before her, looking stern.
"Who took her? Did you catch them?" He asked Javert, who was standing a few feet away, his hat in his hands.
Javert opened his mouth to speak, but Claire cut him off.
"I was not taken! Mother, stop! No one was responsible for my disappearance-"
"She was discovered at the Barricade, Highness. She was dressed as a boy and fighting with the resistance. All but these two of the men responsible have been killed." Javert said, interrupting.
"Why not those two?" Claire's father asked, looking pointedly at Enjolras and Grantaire, who stood by the wall with guns pointed at them. "Why did they take her to the barricade?"
"Did they force her to fight?!" Claire's mother asked, aghast.
"No! Mother, I wasn't-They didn't-"
"We are unsure of what their intentions were. She threatened to kill herself if the last two rebels were executed. We've brought them with us-" Javert answered.
"Well, execute them immediately! Kill these men responsible for my daughter's kidnapping!" The king ordered.
"No!" Claire yelled, pulling away from her clinging mother once again. "Do not! They haven't done anything!"
"Sweetheart, you're just confused. Those are bad men, and no matter how well they treated you, they're still bad. They took you away, Darling. They may have fed you lies, but-"
"I'm not confused!" Claire screamed, backing away. "I wasn't kidnapped! Are you all so daft-" She threw her hands in the air. "I ran away! I chose to go fight at the barricade! They aren't my captors, they are my friends! Every man that was executed was my friend! You-" she turned to her father. "Don't you pretend to care that I was missing-"
"Claire, please." Her father said, holding is hands out to her. "Of course I was worried! I was, your mother was, your cousin André, he came to visit. He's still here. He'll be ecstatic to know you're safe-"
"Oh, Hell!" Claire cried. "Don't use dear cousin André against me now! I'm not an unintelligent female as you all believe me to be! I, fortunately, did not inherit that specific trait." Claire shot a murderous glance at her mother. "I can tell you all specifically why you were worried. Cousin André was worried because he believed that if I was dead, he would not be able to marry me and inherit this kingdom. Mother, you were worried because who would you dress up and force to be your living doll if not me? And father, you were only worried because you thought that you would not be able to pass your kingdom on."
Claire was breathing heavily and her chest was heaving in anger and sorrow, because even though she knew that everything she had said was true, she didn't realize just how true it was before she'd said it out loud. She glanced behind her and saw the look of shock on Javert's face.
"See what you've brought me back too?" She thought angrily.
"Claire, you know that's not true. We love you-" Claire's mother said, reaching towards her.
"No! You don't know the meaning of love!" Claire said harshly. "You don't even love Father, how could you love me? All you love are things that can't love you back, like jewelry and dresses and shoes and power!"
"Why did you run away?" Claire's father asked, not bothering to deny what Claire had said.
"I left to fight against you." Claire said, lowering her voice. "I'm against everything you stand for. This isn't the first time. I ran away five years ago to fight against the French when the British invaded. You didn't even notice I had gone."
"Why?"
"Because the way you rule this country is wrong. You treat the people of the streets like they are vermin that are in need of eradication, and you act as if your soldiers lives are nothing, and can just be thrown away, like pawns-"
"People who think like you and speak out about it, and take action, and stage rebellions, they are executed, you do realize." He father said angrily, advancing on her.
"Then execute me." Claire said defiantly, lifting her head and meeting her father's steely gaze with one equally stony. "Take me out to the guillotine now and slice off my head. At least I'll die an honorable death, unlike you, who will die the pathetic death of a-"
Claire's mother let out a loud sob.
"Stop, stop! You don't know what you're saying!" She howled, grabbing on to Claire and wrapping her arms protectively around her. "There's no need for such hatred! My only child, no! You're not going to be killed, don't talk such nonsense-"
"Mother, get off! Stop crying!" Claire demanded, pushing the crying mess away from her.
"I will do no such thing." Claire's father said sternly. "Do not speak in such a way to your mother." He turned to Javert. "Take those men outside and shoot them-"
"If they are to be shot, I am too!" Claire said, backing up in the direction of Enjolras and Grantaire.
"Don't be ridiculous."
"If they are killed, I will die with them." Claire said firmly, continuing to back up. "Even if I don't die at the same time; if they are killed today, no matter what I have to do, I will make sure I am not alive by tomorrow morning."
Claire had reached Enjolras and Grantaire, and she stood next to them, placing a hand on Grantaire's arm and looking very determined.
"What are you expecting of me?" the king asked, aware that Claire had put him at a loss.
"They are to go to my wing." Claire ordered.
The King began to shake his head, saw Claire's determined gaze, grimaced, and nodded curtly. Enjolras and Grantaire were shoved at gunpoint back out the door they had entered from. Claire was about to follow but thin gloved fingers wrapped around her wrist. Claire turned to see her mother gesturing to an elderly maid.
"Alina, run my daughter a bath in my quarters." She ordered. "Bring her with you."
"Yes, Majesty." The maid dipped in a curtsey and took Claire by the elbow, steering her towards a different door.
"No! I don't have time, I need to go to my own quarters, and I need to see-" Claire protested, but the maid clicked her tongue and shook her head.
"You can go see your men when I've completed the task of cleaning you." She pulled the objecting girl through hallway after hallway until they reached a door that a younger, brunette maid was just locking up.
"Emilie, go get Alice and Gertie. We are to bathe the princess." Alina ordered, and the one called Emilie nodded before scurrying off.
Claire was forced through the door and dragged to the center of the room. The floor was tiled, and there was a bath off to the side. It wasn't a regular bath; it was more of a large circular, four foot deep depression in the floor. The entire room was different shades of pink.
"Alina, please, I just need to see if my friends-"
"Those boys can wait." She said as the bath began to fill with steaming water.
The door opened again and the three young maids entered. They each curtsied to Claire and said their names in turn. Gertie had unruly blonde curls, Alice had red hair pulled back in a severe bun and freckles, and Emilie was the one that had been about to lock the door.
"Alice!" Alina said with authority. "Get those petals in the water!" She indicated to a bowl of rose petals. "Gertie, get these filthy rags off her- Emilie, her hair!"
Claire felt hands start to unbraid her filthy, matted hair, and her arms were stuck out to her sides. The scent from the different perfumes in the bath was beginning to make Claire feel dizzy and things began to blur. Before she knew what had happened, she was standing stark naked.
"Alina, what should I do with these?" Gertie asked.
Claire turned woozily to see Gertie holding her blood and dirt covered clothing.
"They're rubbish. Toss them out-"
"No! Please, don't!" Claire pleaded, stumbling forward and trying to yank the jacket from Gertie's steel-like grip. "It's Bahorel's, please, not this!"
Alina looked at Claire curiously but nodded nonetheless.
"Not the jacket, then, Gertie. Get it washed and pressed. Emilie, is her hair brushed out? Good. Alice, is the water ready? Splendid-right this way, Highness..."
Claire let herself get steered into the bath. It was burning hot but she didn't notice. Her mind was on much more important things. Would they be in her quarters? Or had her father lied? Oh, god what if they were already dead?! She felt hands press down gently on her head, and she reluctantly dunked under the water. She felt hands rubbing something into her scalp, and soon she was allowed to come up and breathe. More hands had grabbed both of her legs and scratchy tools were being used to scrape away almost a month's worth of dirt and grime. She looked down at her hands and watched as the blood slowly floated in the water. The blood of her friends would meet its end down the drain in the tub of a castle.
"I'm so sorry..." She whispered one last time as it floated away and dispersed. She was brought to a standing position and she stepped out of the bath, her wet hair clinging to her dripping skin. A warm towel was patting her dry and a brush was going through her hair almost instantly. One of the maids attempted to wrap a corset around her waist but Claire pushed it away. She felt someone lift one foot at a time and undergarments were pulled up her legs.
"What dress would you like to wear, My Lady?" Alina asked.
"I don't care. I just want to get to my quarters! I-" Alina cut off the rest of what Claire had to say by pulling a simple dress down over her head.
The dress was floor length, and the skirt puffed out only slightly at her waist. The sleeves went to her elbows and weren't puffed at all. The neckline scooped down to expose her neck and collarbones, and stopped at the beginning of her chest, just low enough to reveal a hint of breasts. The fabric was a dark purple with designs that looked like silver smoke that started thick at the end of the dress, but spread out the farther up they went.
Now fully dressed, Claire suddenly made a break for the door. She swung the door open wide, almost knocking over Gertie.
"Your shoes, Miss!" She yelled after her as Claire sprinted down the carpeted hallway.
Claire ignored her and grabbed her skirt around her knees as she ran so that she could run even faster. She turned corner after corner until she reached another pair of double doors. She stopped to catch her breath, putting a hand on the wall to brace herself. Finally she stood up straight and faced the doors. These doors were the entrance to her quarters. She took a deep breath to compose herself and slowly opened them.
- Her wing of the castle consisted of several rooms. Entering there was a large parlor with a wood floor and a big patterned rug. The walls had been painted a cozy cream color. It had a fireplace with a desk next to it, two sofas, an overstuffed armchair, and a table with six chairs. To the left near the fireplace was another door that led to the washroom. On the right side of the parlor were three doors. The closest to the entrance door led to a tall tower. The purpose of this was so that the large, circular walls could be lined with incredibly tall bookshelves. There were two ladders, one which aided in getting books off of higher shelves, and one which led to a window seat, complete with throw pillows and white carpeting, about fifteen feet off the ground. The door farthest from the parlor entrance led to Claire's bedchamber, and the door in the center was yet another bed chamber that was identical to Claire's except for the color scheme, which were all shades of purple instead of shades of white. It would have been Claire's younger sister's room, if she had not died from illness at the age of two. Now it was simply a spare room that was cleaned weekly by the maids to keep things from getting too dusty.
Claire took a step inside and turned to close the door behind her. She held her breath as she turned around again to face the room. There was no one in the area. He heart hammered against her chest and there was a ringing silence in her ears. She felt her throat close up.
"Enjolras?" She croaked out. "Grantaire?"
She rushed to the washroom and flung open the door. No one.
"No, no, no, no-" Claire repeated.
She was beginning to panic. She ran across the room and slammed the library door open. Again, she was greeted by silence and an empty room. She turned around swiftly and sprinted to her own bedchamber. She turned the knob and the door creaked open. She pushed it the rest of the way, holding her breath.
"Enjolras?"
She opened the door wider and stepped inside. There was nobody in her room, either. She let out a cry of frustration, fear, and sorrow as she left the room and slammed the door shut. She turned to look over her quarters and spied the last door. She went to the desk near the fireplace and fumbled in one of the drawers blindly until her fingers wrapped around what she was looking for. Claire pulled it out and looked at the small object lying in her palm. It was a small silver key. Claire gripped it in her fist as she walked back to the spare room. She put the key in the lock hesitantly and turned it. There was a faint pop and the door opened just slightly. Claire pushed against it silently and it opened wider. What Claire saw made her gasp loudly.
Grantaire was laying face-up on the purple canopied bed, his shackled hands on his forehead, and he was breathing heavily in slumber. His boots and socks were discarded at the base. Enjolras was pacing back and forth angrily in front of the locked balcony window, glaring at the floor. His hands were twisting restlessly in their bonds. He turned when he heard Claire gasp. His eyes fell on her, and they widened in surprise and then narrowed concern as Claire leaned back against the door and raised her hand to wipe away tears that she couldn't stop from falling.
"I'm sincerely sorry, Madame, if this room belongs to you- we were locked in here by guards, and-" Enjolras looked like he was at a loss of what to say.
Clearly he wasn't very experienced with crying females. Claire shook her head and tried to compose herself.
"Enjolras!" She squeaked, taking a step forward. "Enjolras- I thought- I couldn't find you- I thought they'd- you weren't out there- I believed that they'd killed you!" She choked out before stumbling to the bed and sitting down at the foot of it.
Confused, Enjolras took a step forward as well.
"Madame, I'm sorry to have disturbed you like this, really, I-"
Claire looked up and met his gaze. Her gray eyes met his blue ones and recognition crossed his face.
"Claire?" He asked, thunderstruck.
Before Claire could reply, Grantaire stirred and kicked her in the side with his bare foot. Claire grunted and Grantaire lifted his chin groggily to look at what his foot had come in contact with.
"Wha'd meh foot 'it?" He asked, as his dreary eyes landed on Claire. "Oh, damn, I apologize-" He said as he sat up. "I didn't mean teh hurt yeh-"
He froze as he looked at Claire again.
"Claire? Is that you?" He asked, and Claire nodded.
"I'm so glad you two are alright, I thought for sure they had killed you and I was so worried-" Claire started, but was cut off by a pillow slamming into the side of her face.
They may be soft to lie on, but when they hit you at high speed it feels like you're being slapped.
"Ow! Grantaire, wha-" Claire yelped, but again she was hit.
"A bloody princess, Claire?" He yelled angrily. "Merde, Claire! What the hell? I mean, I knew Clark was you, but-" He hit her again. "I didn't know you were a bloody princess!"
"Grantaire, stop! That hurts!" Claire cried, yanking the pillow from his grasp and flinging it across the room where it hit the wall with a dull thud.
Grantaire's shoulders sagged and he leaned against the headboard, defeated.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, looking hurt.
"I couldn't. You know I couldn't. I couldn't risk getting caught, or turned in, or-"
"You really think I would have turned you in?" Grantaire asked, looking up at her downheartedly.
"Of course not. I just couldn't risk anything..." Claire said, putting her hand on his shoulder.
"Wait... Grantaire, you knew she was Clark?" Enjolras said, confused. "Claire, you were always Clark? Clark was never a real- it was you the whole time?"
Claire and Grantaire nodded guiltily.
"So that night when Clark kissed me, it was you?"
Claire nodded again.
"And you knew?" Enjolras asked, turning on Grantaire
"Yea."
Enjolras looked at the ceiling, seething. He lowered his fiery gaze back to Claire.
"The woman in the blue dress. The one you said was a Brit. The woman that donated the money-"
"Was me as well." Claire said, looking down and clasping her hands in her lap.
Enjolras started to pace once again, putting the pieces together in his head.
"If you were Clark the whole time, and Clark was at the barricade, but I had told you to stay in the room so you would be safe- you lied to me?"
Claire looked down at her bare feet pitifully.
"I couldn't stay and let you die. I needed to be there to make sure you stayed safe, too! You told me that all I could do was pray, but you and I both know that praying is a load of rubbish! And then you almost did die, and I was able to stop it-"
"Which resulted in you getting beat half to death." Grantaire grumbled, but Enjolras ignored him.
"You should have let them shoot me." He said angrily, turning to face her.
"I couldn't let you die." Claire countered.
"Why? You don't care about the cause. It was just a good excuse for you to run away-"
"How could I not care about the cause?! The cause is the only reason I ran away! I ran away with the sole purpose of finding and joining the cause and bringing down my father! I believe in it with my whole heart-"
"You're a princess!" Enjolras spit out as if it were a curse.
"That shouldn't matter, I still care-"
"You don't believe in anything!" Enjolras hissed.
"I believe in you." Claire whispered, wiping angrily at her eyes that, despite her fighting, had begun to tear up.
Enjolras went silent, and he stared down at Claire, who was shivering at the foot of the bed.
"Claire," Grantaire said hesitantly, crawling over and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you go see if you can get the key for these?"
He held up his manacled hands and shook them slowly, so that the chains clinked together. Claire wiped her eyes one last time and nodded stiffly. She stood up and strode to the door. She put her shaking fingers on the doorknob, but before she opened it, she turned to speak.
"This door is unlocked now. Come out when you're ready- you're free to leave. There's a washroom and a pantry," She said to Grantaire. "The library is in the room to the left." Her eyes flickered to Enjolras for a moment before she returned her gaze to the floor. "I'm going to go now."
She opened the door and left, leaving the two men alone.
A/N right, so, that was chapter 11. I hope you liked it! Remember, I really like reviews, so if you could spare some time to drop a review in the hungry review box that would be lovely. Thanks, you're all wonderful!
Much Love,
~Jedss