You guys are the most precious things ever. LOVE TO YOU!
Disclaimer: I still own nothing. Everything goes to its rightful owner.
"Little girl, you gonna eat that?" a rough voice asked Eponine, breaking her out of her trance. She looked up at the large woman in front of her before shaking her head, handing the woman the last of her bread.
"No.. No.. I'm not," she whispered.
"Well, then, thank you," the woman grumbled, waddling away to divvy the bread up between her, her husband, and three children; the hunk was hardly larger than Eponine's fist.
Eponine nodded, standing slowly. Weeks had past; how many Eponine didn't really know, or care. The only thing that got her through the day was her child. She knew she needed strength and food was scarce, so she took to a job, selling apples. It paid very, very little; whatever she sold was her's really. The man who provided the apples said she could take two a day, but that was it. With the money she earned, Eponine could usually buy the end pieces of bread and small sliver of cheese or ham if she was lucky. Because of the food she bought and ate slowly (some she saved or gave to the boys that quickly took to her), Eponine knew her child was good and healthy. A small bump was beginning to appear, and sometimes- just sometimes- if she sat still for long enough, and her surroundings were quiet, Eponine could feel the tinniest bits of movement within her.
As she walked toward the door, Eponine grabbed her coat off the barrel. The barrel served as a heater for the warehouse, a fire was placed inside (one of the many) and it heated whatever was laid out on top. Eponine would lay her coat out for an hour or so, allowing it to get warm enough, and then pull it on before leaving to sell her apples. The heat didn't last very long since the cold outside shocked it away, but it lasted just long enough.
Cornelius, one of the friendly elder gentlemen in the home, waved Eponine goodbye, like he always did, with his toothless grin. She mustered one back and he chuckled to himself. Pushing open the oversized door, Eponine headed out into the world. She kept her head down for both warmth and privacy's sake. Once, she had nearly run into Comberferre on his way to a meeting; she'd pushed her head down to pick the apples that had fallen and for a moment it looked like he might recognize her, but she pitched her voice higher than usual and the scarf wrapped around her face helped, too. He'd apologized a few times before scurrying off. The man who had given Eponine the job to sell apples wasn't entirely unpleasant. If she was being completely honest, Eponine might say she sort of fancied the extremely tall, lanky, brunette man. He was kind to her and careful. He could tell she was pregnant and alone; he wanted for her to be pregnant and happy, though.
"Good morning, Matthieu," Eponine whispered, taking the basket from his waiting hands when she reached his cart.
Matthieu smiled warmly and Eponine tensed. She knew he liked her, but she would never feel the same way, even if she did find him attractive. "Miss," he croaked. Matthieu had always called her 'miss' never by her real name and this Eponine hated the most.
"Please," she groaned. "Call me Eponine!"
This is what Enjolras must have felt like, she thought. Enjolras.. she pushed the thought of him away; he was probably better off anyway.
Matthieu nodded awkwardly. "Well.. if you insist."
"I do." she smiled at him, turning to walk away to the corners she usually stood at.
"Wait, Eponine!" Matthiue called, rushing to catch up with her. "If you'd like to, after you finish today, I was hoping that.. I was wondering if.. You see! I wanted to know if I could buy you supper?"
Eponine started. Dinner? With Matthieu? Part of her wanted to for both company who didn't reek of fish and moldy bread, and for fresh food. The other half refused because of Enjolras. But wasn't Eponine supposed to be getting over him?
She agreed simply because there would be food that wasn't just bread. As she headed toward the corner near the apothecary, Eponine felt guilt consume her. It was annoying, though, to feel guilt for something she shouldn't. Eponine had left Enjolras, right? Wasn't she entitled to see whom she wished? But why did agreeing to go to dinner with Matthieu make her feel as if she was betraying her one and only? Maybe that was it: because Enjolras was her one and only. For the rest of the day, Eponine tried to focus on the prospect of new and warm food. When it was time to return to the cart, Eponine was thoroughly proud of herself. She had earned twice what she usually did and this meant that she would have much more for her dinner tomorrow. Maybe Gavroche would roll around and she could feed him, too. Sometimes he would show up and it was nice to see her little brother again, even if they rarely spoke.
Eponine's hands trembled from nerves and the cold as Matthieu led her to a restaurant tucked away in between a brothel and a church. Eponine might have snickered had her head not been too distracted by everything else. Matthiue held the small door open for her, having to stoop to get through himself. He hummed uncomfortably, leading her toward a table near the back. While Matthieu seemed tense, Eponine was peaceful.
"Here." he handed her a well worn menu.
Eponine relished the words; she'd been unable to get her hands on a book in ages. She wasn't honestly too hungry, but she ordered enough to hold her down for a very long time. Matthieu chuckled occasionally at her fervor, but stopped when she looked up and blushed in embarrassment. Even though the food was cheap and probably second cuts, it was the most heavenly thing Eponine had ever tasted. When she'd finished her meat and potatoes, bread and fruit, Eponine leaned back in the chair and smiled.
"Thank you," she laughed; for the first time in weeks.
Matthieu shrugged and played with the cloth napkin in his hands. "I'm just helping a.. friend."
Eponine opened her mouth to reply, but looked past his shoulder as the door opened (she was facing the door, after all, and it was interesting to see the people come and go). Her heart shattered and then scattered in the wind, leaving her well behind; she had trouble catching her breath. With shaking hands, Eponine took a long swig of water and stood up slowly, eyes never leaving the men who had just walked in.
Marius.
Grantaire.
Courfeyrac.
Enjolras.
He'd found her. Well, not really. They'd just happened to stumble into one another in a café shoved between a whore-house and chapel. Luckily, they hadn't seen her, and they wouldn't. Matthieu frowned, worry lines on his forehead; he stood, too.
"Eponine?" he asked, his voice soft, but strong; she mustn't leave, not now.
"I'm sorry." she looked between her employer and her friends. "I have to go! Thank you so much, Monsieur. I.. I'll see you tomorrow!" she held her hands out, backing up. "Is there a back way out?" she asked quickly. "You know, I'll just find it. Good-bye!" and she rushed away, bumping into a man carrying a tray, sending it clattering to the floor. She stooped to help him pick it up, but knew all eyes were on them, so she kept her head down and rushed away through a back door she found through the kitchen (the cooks were far more than angry when a young, pregnant girl ran through with no explanation!).
Enjolras could have sworn her saw her in the restaurant, over where the tall man was, helping the other man who'd dropped his tray. He could have sworn he saw her dark hair, olive skin; he thought he smelled her; she'd always smelled of strawberries. But he shook the feeling off. Eponine had been gone for maybe a month and half, and she wasn't coming back.
Courfeyrac clapped Enjolras on the shoulder. "Sit down, Enjolras. Relax." the younger man smiled, eager to see Enjolras loosen up (Les Amis still didn't know Eponine was pregnant; Enjolras had sworn Joly to secrecy. They all thought she just up and left with no word.).
The other man took a hesitant seat, still watching the tall man, now paying his bill. What if it had been Eponine? Was she here with that other man? Enjolras' heart began to ache. She couldn't do that to him! She was his, and his alone. That thought, though, made Enjolras take a step back. She wasn't his, not anymore. He couldn't say that, much less think it.
A round of beers were brought to the table and Grantaire placed one in Enjolras' hand. Every since Eponine's departure, Grantaire had watched, silently, as Enjolras fell into drinking more and more. He wanted for his friend to stop, but he liked seeing Enjolras drunk. It was the most amusement he got out of his day. The curly haired man would sing and sing badly. He would recite poems (or try to, at least) and spin tales that didn't make a lick of sense. But best of all, to Grantaire, really, was that he smiled. A large genuine smile that took up his whole face and lit the whole room like a bonfire. It was rare that Enjolras smiled anymore.
Enjolras frowned at the dark liquid, pushing it away, asking for a glass of water. While his friends spent the night laughing and carrying on, Enjolras spent the night staring out the window at the small figure speaking with the tall one.
Eponine knew it was risky to still be near the small restaurant, but Matthieu wanted to speak with her. She also knew Enjolras had sat near the window; she could see his hair.
Stamping her foot because of cold and anxiety, Eponine groaned. "What, Mattieu? I need to leave!"
"But why? That's what I must know!" he was in earnest. What made her leave so fast like that? Was someone after her?
"It.. It's something- someone- from my past." Eponine rolled her eyes, hoping that would suffice.
Matthieu held her shoulders. "Was it one of those men? Did they do anything to hurt you?" he next gestured to her protruding stomach. "Did they do this? Without asking!"
Eponine eased out of his grasp and shook her head. "No! No. This was my choice. They didn't hurt me.."
"Then what is it you're running from?" he asked.
"Before I.. left.. I was madly in love and then I fell pregnant." Eponine rubbed her forehead. "I would have gotten in the way sooner or later, so I knew I needed to leave; for the good of him and the others. Matthieu, this was all my choice!" she flung her arms out indicating the scenery around her.
His stance changed, he was more rigid now. "You were in love? Not anymore?"
Eponine laughed lightly. "Why must you have so many questions?! I think.. it might be starting to die away." this was, of course, the fattest lie she'd ever told; if anything, her love for Enjolras was growing stronger by the day.
Matthieu sighed. Was that relief Eponine heard? "Good.."
"Good?" she raised an eyebrow, stepping back.
Matthieu nodded quickly. "Miss, you are without a home, are you not?" Eponine nodded. "I.. I would like to give you a home. Please! Let me finish. You see, I see the way you work, and I'm very proud of you." the man rubbed his hands together. "You are with child and I wish to make a home for both you and the child. I know that you don't love me, Eponine. But, God Almightly, I love you! I always have.. and maybe.. in time, you could learn to do the same in return." he held her shoulders once more and she struggled.
"Let me go," she whispered harshly; he didn't.
"Eponine, I need you!" Matthieu growled.
Eponine was suddenly scared. She'd never seen Matthieu like this before; he was almost primal. "Please, Matthiue! I do not love you! I never will! God, my heart belongs to another. Let me go!" she cried, pushing on his arms, but with each push earned more strength.
Eponine whirled. She prayed to God above Grantaire happened to look outside; he would set Matthiue straight. (In order to clear this up, it should be noted that Grantaire and Eponine were almost as close and Joly and herself were. Though, the two jested and prodded one another it was all out of love.) Matthieu was closing in, his hand suddenly gripping her chin.
"No," he said, holding tighter. "You're mine." Matthieu slid out a small knife from his pocket.
Oh, God! He was going to kill her!
There was only one thing the woman knew to do:
"Enjolras!"
The cry came and Enjolras sprung to his feet. "I knew it," he muttered, grabbing his coat. After turning away from the figure long before, Enjolras had felt a nagging sense something would soon go wrong.
"What is it?" Grantaire stood as well. The voice that cried out sounded oddly familiar. As if from a dream..
"Eponine." Enjolras pushed his way out of the door, Grantaire on his heels.
Outside the cold air whipped past and shocked the two men into standing still for a few moments. That is until Enjolras noticed the man holding onto Eponine quite roughly across the road. He, for some reason, hit Grantaire softly in the chest twice before rushing across the street. Grantaire knew what to do. He followed suit and kept close to Enjolras, choosing the right moment to spring from behind the other man and grip Matthieu's collar so hard the air was cut off from his throat.
"What do you think you're doing?" Grantaire growled, pushing Matthieu away from Eponine, flinging the knife away, a hint of humor in his voice.
"Nothin'! I swear, I wasn't doing anything!" Matthieu was struggling. By now, Marius and Courfeyrac had joined the commotion, lending Grantaire a hand in pummeling the apple seller into a pulp.
No one hurt Ninny. No one.
One might have felt bad for Matthiue, if they let themselves for just a moment. They way he lay on his side, hands in front of his face, whimpering, as three men beat him mercilessly. But if they had known the story, they would have joined in, too. Many years later, Matthieu would be found to be a violent killer; he would lure poor women in by giving them a job, steady one. Then he would build a relationship of sorts and one day slit their throats clean through. It would have been Eponine's fate as well if not for her quick thinking.
If only Grantaire had finished him off then and there, how many lives would have been saved, but he was too good for that. He gave Matthiue one last kick and sent him on his way. He turned to find Eponine, but stopped; Enjolras already had.
He elbowed the others. "Lets go, lads. We can see her later and ply the truth from her." and they made their way back to The Musain.
Over in a corner, there lay a hunched over woman, trembling with fear. Enjolras approached her slowly, his heart rate dangerously high. "Eponine," he whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder; she flinched. "My dear," how he'd longed to say that once more. "I will not hurt you. You're safe now."
Eponine drew in a deep breath. Was she ready? No. Did she want to be back in his arms? God, yes. The forlorn woman looked up. "Enjolras?" she cried, tears streaming down her face. "Enjolras!" and she broke down in back-breaking sobs on his lap, finally home.
This is probs my favorite chapter so far; oh gosh! Please, please, please read and review!
~Jessie