pen-bound- Thank you for the long review! It made my day :) I hope you have a fun trip!
TheIbis- Here's some Epeyrac and Henri/Musichetta/Dughghlas for you :)
I changed the story line a bit again. (STRAYING FROM CANON! YAY!) The attack on Rue Plumet occurs around late April. The date is uncertain because I'm too lazy to have had them read the date on the drawing.
This chapter is mostly fluff, but it hints ahead at some important plot points.
Henri took a last look around the Rue de la Chaverrie. Now that he knew the events that transpitred in the area around it, he couldn't help but feel a morbid pull towards the streets around the Corinth. At first, nothing appeared to be any different than the other streets, but upon further inspection (meaning the shameless Henri had to bend down and peer at the cobblestones) the street was still tinged with red.
A gust of wind blew around Henri's feet, cooling him from the summer heat for a temporary moment. In this little burst of air, a bloodsoaked ribbon flew up into the air, and Henri caught it in his curiosity. The little piece of fabric was fraying at the edges and it looked worn and sun-bleached. It seemed as though it may once have been a royal blue color. The blood stains were more black than red, but a sniff provided Henri with the information to know that it was indeed blood.
He pocketed it and made his way home. Once again, the happy had taken to the streets. There were flashes of ruffled dresses, loose bonnets and perfume as a group of young ladies giggled and stared at a nearby hoarde of students that exited the Sorbonne. The men appeared well refined in their dress and speech, but their eyes were bright, their cheeks chubby and pink, their cravats loose and their jackets large in their shoulders. Henri managed a wan smile at the beauty of youth before pushing onto his street, a little winding road that was lined by tall buildings, giving the strange illusion of walking down a tunnel.
He stomped up the steps and rummaged for his key in his pocket. As he paused outside his door, he could hear giggling and laughter that was almost flirtatious in manner. One tinkling laugh certainly belonged to his wife, and the other…. Could it be?
He pushed open the door to the endearing sight of Musichetta and Dubhghlas sat on the plush couch, their eyes sparkled with wine and Musichetta's careful hairdo coming undone around her ears. She smiled beautifully upon seeing his form in the doorway and waltzed over to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth.
"Henri! At last you are home! I have been entertaining young Dubhghlas here for far too young. The poor boy's probably annoyed by a gossipy old lady!" She giggled and Dubhghlas stood to bow stiffly towards Henri, who did the same. However, when their eyes met Dubhghlas had a wicked gleam there.
"But Madame, surely you are less than five years my senior?" Dubhghlas asked with an air of innocence. Musichetta scoffed and gently slapped his shoulder.
"Oh, you flatter me. I am surely six."
"Dubhghlas," Henri had to cut the annoyingly amusing interaction between his wife and…. Friend (whatever Dubhghlas was). "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"I came by to ask if you've found any progressions in the story." He said, formally. Musichetta watched their careful conversation with critical eyes over the lip of her wine glass.
"Alas, no." Henri said. Dubhghlas nodded, looking nearly disappointed. Musichetta rolled her eyes in exasperation.
"Oh but you can't be leaving just yet!" She exclaimed, grabbing both men by their arms and forcing them to sit on either side of her. "You are talking about Monsieur Grantaire's drawings, no?"
They nodded, both too charmed to say much else. Musichetta reached into Henri's briefcase and rummaged about until she retrieved the sketchbook. She smiled at the both of them, a subtle hint in her eye before flipping to one of the last drawings.
"See, Dubhghlas," Musichetta had already moved to addressing the boy informally, "Courfeyrac's roommate was hopelessly in love with a girl. Even after he finally spoke to her," This earned laughter all around, "He mooned over her in his dreams! But he never confessed anything to his loyal friend, leaving Courfeyrac to poke fun at his mysterious tendencies."
Musichetta pointed a delicate finger at the light-hearted sketch. Courfeyrac and a woman that Henri recognized as Éponine were shoulder-to-shoulder as Grantaire drew exaggerated eyelashes on Courfeyrac, who had his hands clasped under his chin and his eyes pointed to the sky. Éponine's nose was shaded and her cheeks appeared rosy as she laughed open-mouthed at whatever he was saying.
"I miss Éponine…" Musichetta mused aloud. Henri turned to Dubhghlas, a half-smile on his face.
"Musichetta was acquainted with Les Amis." He said in way of explanation. Dubhghlas's cobalt eyes widened and he turned to the pretty woman.
"Did you know of my sister, Ceara?" He also addressed her informally, for it flowed easier, considering their immediate connection.
Musichetta froze, but did not look up from the drawing. When she did, her eyes were guarded and she appeared to have sobered up considerably. "Yes," She said carefully.
As if sensing that they were treading on thin water, Henri stood to escort Dubhghlas out the door. As they were nearly to the entryway, Musichetta's scolding voice called them back.
"Oh no you don't. Boys, sit." Her tone was sweetly commanding, a shininess in her face that had been absent moments before. They did as told, and once they did she sat on the coffee table, swinging her heavily-clothed legs. "I have a proposal to make."
When she said nothing for a while, Henri finally spoke. "Of?"
She giggled. "You do not remember what I said of Joly and Bossuet?"
"Oh." Henri said, simply. He looked over at Dubhghlas, who looked simply confused. The expression suited him.
"Well, Henri, darling, I forgot to tell you that they were also lovers!" She exclaimed happily. Henri's jaw must have dropped comically, for both Dubhghlas and Musichetta chuckled.
"Are you saying what I believe you are saying?" Dubhghlas asked, his youthful face alight with hope. He looked towards Henri, and once again the older man felt a surge of emotion.
"I knew you would agree. The two of you have practically been making love through awkward glances all night." Musichetta's bluntness shocked the both of them to silence. She rolled her eyes and leaned forward to press and almost chaste kiss to Dubhghlas's lips. Then she kissed Henri's, and she tasted of wine and berries. Smirking at the two boys, she waited with her arms crossed until their lips met cautiously as well.
"Now," She pulled them to her feet and linked her arm through both of theirs. "Let us go to bed."
"Ma cherie," Courfeyrac said, leaning to Éponine. "I do not know what it was that you saw in him!"
"Who?" She asked, entranced by the slight redness about Courfeyrac's cheeks that suggested of time spent outside.
"Marius, of course!" He brought her back to reality with the name. Enjolras looked up from where he was to roll his eyes.
"Ah, how is our little buonopartist?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm.
"Love struck." Courfeyrac supplied. Grantaire, who was having Louison fill his glass with whiskey (which he chose to raise his glass to Ceara for no apparent reason.), looked up at this.
"I am agog! I am aghast, is Marius in love at last? He never seemed the type to 'oh' and 'ah'." He said. Joly laughed.
"Oh, but he is." Said Bossuet. "See, he's very into the idea behind things. He romanticizes everything from religion to studies to political philosophies."
"And females named 'Cosette'." Éponine supplied. Courfeyrac nodded in confirmation before taking Éponine's hand.
"Oh, Cosette!" He said in a high voice. Éponine giggled and pretended to fix her messy hair.
"Alas, Monsieur! I do not even know your name!" Her voice was high and airy in opposition to its usual raspy tone.
"It is le baron Marius Pontmercy, but of course." Courfeyrac pulled himself away from his mistress and made a motion similar to a schoolgirl who was about to swoon. "Oh Cosette, we just met, but I know," At this he turned back to Éponine. "We are meant to be!" He snuck a kiss to her lips before pulling back, looking ashamed with himself. "But I have disrespected you! Woe is me!" He draped himself dramatically across Éponine's lap. And she petted his hair and crooned half-hearted comforts into his ear between bouts of laughter.
"There!" She cried out into his ear. They were fooling around in an alley when she suddenly spotted Marius. Courfeyrac pulled away, albeit reluctantly. They fixed their clothing in an attempt to make themselves somewhat decent.
"Let us follow him, perhaps we shall catch a glimpse of his lady love!"
The two did, keeping close to the shadows. Whenever the street-savvy Éponine paused in a niche, Courfeyrac would sneakily press open-mouthed kisses over the back of her neck and the exposed skin of her shoulders, causing her to have to bite her chapped lips in an attempt to not moan or giggle.
When the mischievous lovers finally followed Marius to his destination, they watched quietly as he moved aside a bar on the gate and slipped inside. They crept closer, listening ears against the brick wall.
Courfeyrac was too busy being embarrassed for Marius and his lack-luster courting to notice the group traipsing down the street, which Éponine had most certainly noticed.
"Courfeyrac," She tried, but he didn't look to her. Finally she pushed on him, "Julian!" She said hurriedly.
He turned to her, and saw her scared eyes. "Éponine, what is it?" She wordlessly indicated the lazily slouched men down the way.
"Are you worried? We can go back to my garret, if you wish." He offered, not getting what she was hinting at.
"Hide." She said, shortly. When he looked at her in confusion, she dragged him to the gate and pushed him past the loose bar. "Stay."
"Éponine, wait!" He called, but his sweetheart had her back turned to him as she settled down on the ground in front of the gate.
"Courfeyrac?" Marius's voice was confused and slightly embarrassed. Courfeyrac flinched in shame and turned to face the couple.
"Urm, hello?" He waved his hand half-heartedly. Marius returned the wave although the pretty russet-haired girl beside him looked terrified. Her wide blue eyes were quivering with what seemed to be tears of fright. "It is a pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle."
In a futile attempt to calm the awkward air, Courfeyrac held out his hand. She placed a trembling, gloved hand in his and he kissed her covered knuckles. He felt a part of him recoil in disgust towards this polished woman, for she was nothing in comparison to Éponine. He immediately felt guilty thinking this for she appeared to be a very nice girl.
Remembering his lover, he kept out of sight of the street but came close enough to hear what was going on. He could hear the soft footsteps of Marius and Cosette as they followed him in their curiosity.
"It's an old gate." A voice said.
"So much the better. We can cut through the bars all the easier." Another gruff voice responded. Courfeyrac's breath hitched. Robbers. And Éponine was out there alone.
"There's a dog!" The voice he was accustomed to hearing say his name in the bedroom spoke. They jumped back, Courfeyrac could hear the surprised gasps and some coughs that had been girly screams in their throats.
"Who the devil are you?" A cruel voice asked.
"Your daughter." Éponine replied, coolly. Courfeyrac sucked in, knowing nothing of Éponine's past, only that she was poor and wished not to revisit it.
"Is that Éponine or the other, I wonder?" Marius thought aloud. Courfeyrac made an indignant hand gesture to keep Marius quiet. He could hear the slight rustle of taffeta as the other man pulled his love close to his chest.
"What are you doing here?" There was an undertone of anger to the voice, and it made Courfeyrac's gut tie with anger and fear. "What do you want? Have you gone crazy?" Thernardier's voice was a whisper-yell, the sound of one who needed to express frustration without making too much noise. "Have you come to try and put me off?"
Courfeyrac allowed himself to be amused for a moment, thinking that there really was little need to remain quiet, being as the residents were listening in on their conversation.
Éponine laughed and began chattering pleasantly, asking her father about her family. Courfeyrac could hear the heavy shuffles that indicated the gang's restlessness, though. When the men spoke of her stalling, she simply moved on to bothering the rest of them. Courfeyrac's heart was swollen with pride, and not even her flirting with one of them put him off.
Cosette, behind Courfeyrac and in front of Marius, shuddered. "I know that voice," She said of Thernardier, her eyes ghosting over.
"Two women live alone." Said one of the men.
"No, the people have left!" She insisted. Someone snorted, and Courfeyrac curiously looked to the house and cursed under his breath. One of the candles was alight in the window.
"The candles haven't."
Damn.
"Anyway, they're poor, nothing there of any value!" It was a desperate plea on Éponine's part. Cosette huffed and muttered something arguing that statement under her breath.
Thernardier said something crude and there was a loud sound of someone hitting the ground. Courfeyrac's muscles tensed, and Marius had to hold him back from leaping to her.
"Montparnasse!" Her voice was slightly lilted from loss of breath that occurred when she was thrust to the ground. "You're my friend, you're a good boy. Don't go in!"
The one who must be Montparnasse said, "Watch out you don't cut yourself."
There was a little more banter before finally Éponine said loudly as if in warning to the three in the garden. "I won't let you break in! Listen to me. I mean this. If you try to get into the garden, if you so much as touch this gate, I'll scream the place down. I'll rouse the whole neighborhood and have the lot of you pinched." She threatened.
"She will, too." Thernardier murmured, and Courfeyrac smirked. That was his girl.
"And my father for a start!" She exclaimed. "You keep your distance."
"What's gotten into her? Bitch." Spat her father, to which she laughed.
"Say what you like, you aren't going in. I'm not a dog's daughter but a wolf's. There are six of you, six men and I'm one woman, but I'm not afraid of you."
Courfeyrac felt his chest visibly expand as a smile spread across his face. Cosette mumbled to Marius, "Who is this woman?"
Courfeyrac responded instantaneously, "Mon amour."
"Wait," Marius sounded appalled. "You and Éponine?"
"Yes, what of it?" He didn't say it meanly, he said it matter-of-fact, as if it were the most common thing in the world for a well-bred dandy to fall head-over-heels for a simple daughter of the streets.
"What do I care if my body's picked up in the street tomorrow morning, beaten to death by my own father?"
Courfeyrac flinched, not wanting to think of this option. Suddenly a loud coughing fit sounded from his girl, and he gulped dryly. That cough of hers had been worrying him for some time. She tried to hide the blood from his sight, but he saw it anyway and it was her impending doom that kept him awake at night.
"I don't care if you starve." She was saying to her father, a sneer in her voice. There were a few whispers over the sound of Éponine's humming of a popular song.
Eventually there was a thunderous noise of disappointed footsteps that indicated the departure of the gang. Once the coast was clear, Courfeyrac reached through the gate and pulled a breathless Éponine through it and into his arms. He nuzzled his head in the crook of her neck.
"Courfeyrac! We are in the presence of a young lady!" She scolded lightly, and he placed her down.
"What are you then?" He asked, teasingly.
"Anything but." She responded with a grin.
"Je t'aime." He said, seriously, and she answered him by wrapping her thin arms around his narrow waist. It was an answer of her own.
Both of them seemed to have forgotten the other couple in the vincity until Marius spoke up. "Courfeyrac, Éponine, how did this happen?"
They just looked at each other and laughed. Courfeyrac blew a mock kiss to the couple before he and Éponine vanished back into the shadows of the Rue Plumet.
"Your friends are strange." Observed Cosette, delicately placing a hand over his. Her lips were upturned in an amused smile, though.
"Indeed." He agreed.
AWWW. Okay, so next chapter is alllllllll Ceara and Enjolras. REVIEW IF YOU WANT SMUT. Does that qualify as a spoiler? Oh, well. It's an OC story, of course she has to sleep with one of the Amis.
