The sun rises behind the tall houses. The blinding light waking up the boys of the barricade. Matilda and Enjolras slept together, holding hands, resting on each other's heads. They both smiled at each other when they awake, thinking of the special moment they shared last night.
"Are you ready?" Enjolras says holding out a hand to help her up. Matilda smiles and takes hold off it gladly, jumping up to her feet. Enjolras climbs on the top of the barricades, just stopping so the soldiers wouldn't see his head. "Hey listen everybody!" he bellows out to his friends. They all stop and turn to him. Enjolras looks down at Matilda who climbs up to him and wraps her fingers around his. "I have some news to tell, we're engaged."
For a moment, silence hangs in the air, then a loud whoop comes from behind the barricade. The students all throw their fists in the air and cheer for the new engaged couple. Enjolras smiles at his new fiancée and she grins back. Combeferre smiles at Matilda and claps, he approves of their relationship. That's all she needed.
"Let's have a bit of a game to celebrate then," someone shouts from below them. "None of the guardsman have made an attack, they're waiting for us to do something first. So let's make them wait until the disappear, let's have a drink."
They all instantly laugh and agree. Enjolras hols up his hand to silence them all, clearly he disapproves of it, being the man he is. "No, no, no. We have to be sober for the rest of the fight, no more people getting drugged or drunk."
Matilda turns to him, her eyes pleading. "Please, just for today. Just one round to keep the thought of civil war off our minds."
Enjolras bites his lip, the taste of rainwater still on his mouth. He then sighs deeply. "Fine, I'll play."
"Oh no!" Bossuet laughs. "We've already seen you drunk." He turns to Matilda and points at her, grinning wickedly. "We want her to do it."
The boys whoop. Matilda sees Gavroche jumping in the corner next to Courfeyrac, he clasps his hands together and basically begs for her to do it. How can she refuse?
"No. No, she is not drinking," Enjolras says.
Matilda smiles and twists her hand out of his. "No, I want to." He glares down on her, his blue eyes sneering at her. She kisses him on the cheek and climbs anxiously down the barricade, tripping and landing on Bossuet who tried to help her down.
Grantaire emerges out of the cafe, his eyes heavy and puffed. He surely had been crying. So that's where he's been. Enjolras smirks to himself. He climbs down and catches up with Matilda, just before Grantaire catches his arm. His eyes lock with the sapphire blue of Enjolras, a slight tear within the right eye. "Enjolras, I-"
"Don't." Enjolras yanks his arm out and continues to walk to his fiancée who waited for him by a small table now in the middle of the space they had. On the table laid out 30 shots of alcohol on each side, 60 altogether.
"We need a challenger," Bossuet calls out. Someone calls out to Grantaire but he tuts. "No, we need a normal drinker. Someone who doesn't drink as much as R does, but still drinks."
Jehan raises his hand and emerges out of the swarm of sweaty boys now crowding around the table. His sleeves rolled up above his elbows, he looked more younger and stronger than usual to Matilda. "Don't mind if I do."
Matilda smiles at her challenger and extends a hand out as a greeting to the challenge.
"Now you both know the rules of the game, drink as many as you can until you feel like you need to chuck."
"I can always take your place, Matilda."
"Shut up, Enj!" half the boys say simultaneously.
He groans and rolls his eyes. Bossuet tells the two challengers to put their fists together, so none of them were cheating, Matilda's knuckles pressing hard against Jehan, who winks at her. Bossuet calls it and they start. Matilda chugs down a shot every second, Jehan close behind her. After about 19 shots, Jehan admits defeat, staggering back to his friends who catches him and pushes him back up to his feet. Matilda gulps down her last one, making her the winner with 23 shots. More than Grantaire has ever done before. She really is like a man!
The boys all stare at her in bewilderment as she wipes of a drop of alcohol from the crease of her lips. "Never underestimate a girl raised by innkeepers!"
She pushes her way through the crowd, casually. Strutting out leaving the boys all staring behind her. Including Enjolras.
"How do you ever get a fiancée like that?" Feuilly asks, his jaw dropping.
Enjolras shrugs. "Luck, I guess."
A few hours pass and the sun now high above them, burns their shoulders and arms. Neither side of the revolution has tried to fire, the soldiers being rather awfully quiet. It troubles the leader.
Matilda had fallen asleep, hugging onto Enjolras's red jacket. The effect of the alcohol finally hitting her. She leans against Enjolras, her arms folded in front of her chest. To Enjolras, she looked too different. She no longer looks like a striking woman with soft, pale skin with emerald eyes. She now looks like a boy, a dirty, scrawny, well-taught boy that knows how to fight but just happens to be a girl. Her brown tangled hair tucked underneath a cap, strands of wisps coming out of the cap, covering the front of her face. Despite the whole get up, Enjolras still found her beautiful.
"Enjolras," a voice snaps him out of his reverie. He turns to his left to see Marius looking down on him. "The rain damaged the gunpowder for our ammunition."
Dammit! Enjolras swears to himself. "Okay. Collect some of the ammunition from the soldiers that died last night, we can use those."
"We've collected what we can, we still don't have enough."
Now he's worried. He moves slightly, trying his best not to wake Matilda. It fails. She wakes up, her eyes still dazed and tired.
"What? What's wrong? Why'd you wake me?" she says, sleepily.
"Nothing, we're just running low on ammunition. I'm going to go the other side of the barricade to collect more from the bodies there."
Matilda now snaps awake. "What? No. Enjolras that's dangerous."
They now both stand, Enjolras wearing his jacket again. "It's okay, I'll be right back I promise."
"No! I'll go with you."
"No I won't let you. Just stay put I'll be back!"
Marius stands behind him and watches the small quarrel between the two.
Gavroche listens from a short distance, a dangerous thought running in his head. They wouldn't shoot a kid. He thinks to himself. I can go get it.
He sneaks under a small passage he found that leads to the open side of the barricade. No one has seen him yet, but they'll be thankful once he returns with the ammunition. "Little people know, when little people fight," he starts to sing. "We may look easy pickins' but we've got some bite." He crawls out of the barricade, emerging out into the open in front of the soldiers. "So never kick a dog, because he's just a pup!" Combeferre sees him and starts to call him back, Gavroche just grins at the man and picks up a bag of ammunition, still full. He grabs another and another until he's got more than enough. "We'll fight like twenty armies and we won't give up!"
Courfeyrac climbs to see what Combeferre was ushering at, to see the young boy in enemies range. He starts to panic and runs off to the side of the barricade. He bumps into Enjolras who gets startled and watches in confusion as his friend runs into the other side.
"Combeferre, what is it?" he asks his friend.
"It's Gavroche, he's on the other side collecting ammunition."
Enjolras immediately runs to Courf, snatching a Carbine on the way.
"So you better run for cover, when the pup..." Courfeyrac cries out to the boy. Enjolras trailing behind him, ready to shoot at any soldiers who tries to attack. "grows..." A shot. For a moment the smoke covers the view of the boys. Then it clears away and reveals, Gavroche on his knees, clutching his abdomen. Courfeyrac stares at the gamin, tears filling his eyes. Gavroche smirks and throws the ammunition up at Combeferre who catches it, just. "up!" Another shot and Gavroche falls to the ground, dead.
Courf runs out, picking up the boy, sobbing. Enjolras covers him, his aim pointed at a out of smoke covering the boys and the soldiers.
The two run back behind the safety of the barricade, setting Gavroche down. Matilda gasps and clasps her mouth with her hand. She hasn't really talked to Gavroche, but she still cared for him, since he was the youngest of them all.
Courfeyrac sobs over the boy. His skin now pale and cold, his eyes still open and staring off into darkness. He risked his life for them and got shot. His bravery was far more greater than Enjolras had seen out of all the boys he had met here.
"Close his eyes," he says to Courf, placing a hand on his back. "Then he looks peaceful."
Courf does just that and closes Gavroche's eyes, turning away and crying into Combeferre's arms. An old man that Matilda hasn't seen before, picks the young boy up and carries him inside the cafe, setting him down next to his sister. Enjolras walks over to Matilda and hugs her from behind.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
Matilda shakes her head. She buries her he and into his chest, she feels his strong arms embracing her, his shirt warm from the sun, sweaty but warm. "Are we really going to make it out alive? Are we?" she muffles.
He wouldn't lie anymore. "I honestly don't know, I don't know anymore."
Another two hours pass by and the sun now starts to sink back into the earth. Enjolras stands with Combeferre, Courf and Joly. They all ramble on about the day, about tomorrow, about the future. Anything they say not making sense. Matilda sits down by the wall of the wine shop behind the barricade, playing with her fingers. Her day certainly was not the best to follow her special moment last night. A shadow looms over her, covering her legs. She looks up to see Jehan. He sits down next to her with a bottle of wine in his hand. He takes a sip and offers some to her.
"No, not after that round we had earlier on in the day, I still feel sick."
The poet laughs. "Your own fault for drinking that many shots. How did you do that anyway?"
"Innkeepers secret," she sneers winking. "So tell me, why is it you like to be called 'Jehan', your name is Jean Prouvaire, is it not?"
"It is."
"So why the change?"
"Jehan is a nickname. From an old French poet that I have an interest in. He's the whole reason I started to like poetry, and become the charmer I am," he jokes. Matilda laughs along with him. "They boys just started to call me 'Jehan' a few months before you came, since I started to annoy them with quotes from him."
"Recite something for me."
He takes a breath and thinks. "'Friendship is the shadow of the evening, that increases with the setting sun of life.'"
Matilda nods in approval. "Not bad."
They both sit there, laughing and exchanging witty comment to each other. Matilda needed this. A moment of a laughter with somebody, even if it is with her drinking mate. They had never really had a proper talk, so it became interesting for them both when they just seem to talk for ages. Finally a silence fills the air.
Jehan takes another chug at the bottle. "You know, Enjolras talked about you every single minute when you used to leave early at the meetings."
"Somehow now, I'm not surprised," Matilda replies.
"Of course you wouldn't." Another go of the wine. "'Have I caught thee, thy heavenly jewel? Why now let me die, for I have lived long enough?'"
Matilda looks at him and raises an eyebrow. "I'm sorry?"
"Shakespeare. His words are metaphorically speaking, of course."
"I didn't really read much from or about him."
"Well, I can tell you that Enjolras said that to me the first day he met you. He came up to me and quoted those words. I'll say I was impressed, but then I understood what he meant. His life woke up when he saw you. You have been his saving grace, he cherishes you with everything."
"I know that," Matilda says.
Jehan tuts. "No no no, I don't think you do. Not enough. I know that you think he still love Patria more than he loves you, but trust me he doesn't. He acts like that because he doesn't really know if you love him as much as he does to you. You need to confront him and really express how you feel for him, tell him just how much you love him. Only then will realise you love each other just the same."
How could he be so wise? He was the youngest now of them all yet he's the charmer, the philosopher, the poet. "Thank you, Jehan."
The young man sees a small flower growing out of the stone pavement, he picks it out and hands it to her. "A rose by any other name, would smell just as sweet," he says smiling at her.
Matilda receives it gladly and scoffs. "Metaphorically speaking?"
Jehan laughs. "Every poem is a metaphor, mademoiselle."
*two hours later*
A few other hours pass by and the sun now bleeds a light red and orange colour into the sky. The boys all rest the day, since nothing else has happened between the two armies in the past four hours.
"Enjolras!" an alarming voice shouts. Enjolras - who had been spending his time with Matilda - snaps up at the sound of distress. Joly runs out of the cafe, his face sweaty. "Jehan, where is he?"
They both shrug at his name. "We haven't seen him in the past hours, why?" he asks.
"What? I thought he was with you, I can't find him."
"Enjolras, Joly! They have him! They have Prouvaire!" a boy shouts from the barricade. The three of them rush to the barricade, peering over the top to see the problem. Matilda gasps at the view.
Jehan stood amongst them, beaten and bloody. His hands tied behind him and a blindfold over his eyes. He faces his friends, his head hanging low. They all call out for his name, but he doesn't move. The soldiers behind him line up in a neat row, their guns pointed at him.
"Their going to execute him," Enjolras says. "They're going to kill him to make us scared."
Matilda can't help but to make an awful, quiet crying sound to escape her lips. "They wouldn't."
Enjolras looks at his friend bluntly and shakes his head. "They would."
"My friends," Jehan calls out to them all. "Fate has caught up with me. A little too soon, but it is fate." They all hide behind the barricade, some of the boys now filled with tears. "I will never forget our moments we have shared together- our meetings, our quarrels, our rebellions. I cannot say how much I have grown fond of you all, how this society has become my family. You're all my family, the people that I have grown with, cried with and laughed with. Our revolution will be successful, a long time after our generation, my friends." The national guardsman ordering his men to take aim. Shouts from the boys of the barricade now arise. Ordering the guardsman to stop, shouting that Jehan is not a murderer. "Don't fret now, my friends. As I said, this is fate catching up to me. Our revolution will be successful, I know it is. Thank you for being my friends and my family, all of you." The sound of the guns being cocked in place scares the boys. For a moment silence stirs, then, "Vive Le France! Long live France! Long live the revolution!"
Multiple shots ring out and they all wait in angst to see if maybe, just maybe, the bullets missed. But they hadn't, and Jehan lays on the floor in his own pool of blood, dead.
Story behind this chapter: The part of Jehan's death never really came to mind until I somehow had a dream about his death last night and I woke up writing it down first thing on a piece of paper so I wouldn't forget what happened. More like I pictured the scene of when Matilda and Jehan talked together rather than he's death. I swear I cried. Anyway hope you liked this chapter!