Chapter Fourteen

In which Enjolras shares a conversation and Marius babbles (again)

...

"Do not move before Enjolras's signal," whispered Combeferre for the billionth time that morning. "I repeat, do not move before Enjolras's signal."

A group of enthusiastic students nodded excitedly, gabbing excitedly about the revolution yet to come and hardly listening to Combeferre's irritated words. Courfeyrac, feeling worried sick for everyone, walked around the Corinthe – which they had set as their headquarters for the uprising – and snatched a bottle of wine away from a pouting Grantaire. Feuilly, talking excitedly about the uprising to a few Polish students, somehow dragged Bossuet into the conversation, the unlucky student silently trying to decipher what the Polish boys were saying.

"This is utter chaos," mumbled Enjolras as he nudged Marius.

The other student looked up from the letter he was reading and nodded distractedly. "Uh, yes. Utter chaos."

Enjolras rolled his eyes as he cast a sideways glance towards Marius's letter. It was a scented purple paper – for God's sake, who in this world delivered scented letters? – with a bright red ribbon decorating the top right-hand corner of the letter. Enjolras sighed and patted him on the back. "Beware, my friend."

"Sure, I will," mumbled Marius, engrossed in his reading. A moment later, he looked up at Enjolras with a huge smile on his face. "She says she loves me with all her heart, Enjolras!"

His eyes rolled for the second time that day. "I'm sure she does, Marius."

The red-haired student, having gone all bubbly after reading Cosette's letter, sauntered off to tell Joly all about his beloved. Enjolras sighed resignedly, knowing that at least the hypochondriac would be able to stand his lovesick rambling.

The leader of the revolution then strolled towards Combeferre, patting his good friend on the back. Combeferre had a weary, tired expression – and the uprising hadn't even begun yet.

"You should rest while you can, Combeferre," he said. "You've done your duty well."

Combeferre shook his head, glancing at Enjolras with a miserable expression. "It's not that." The Philosophy student glanced down at his hands and rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably. "Marion is expecting twins."

There was a short pause in which Enjolras looked at his friend with both surprise and worry in his eyes.

"Oh." that was all Enjolras was able to say. After hesitating for a second, he placed a gentle hand on Combeferre's shoulder. "I think I've already told you before – I won't make you stay, Combeferre. Knowing that there's your wife and two unborn children waiting for you at home, what kind of person would I be if I forced you into our crusade?"

"You would be my best friend, Enjolras," he chuckled sadly. "In fact, you have always been. All of you. All of the Amis have been my family for years now, and I can't leave you to die alone. If we have to die, so be it. But I won't live knowing that I could have somehow helped you and didn't because I was just scared."

"But Combeferre, it's two orphaned children and a young widow we're talking about," Enjolras insisted, a bit harshly. "What will they live from if you die? Marion and you aren't even married yet, for God's sake."

"You have Éponine too," replied Combeferre, crossing his arms. "Surely you don't want to leave her alone in the world, either?"

Enjolras frowned impatiently. "Of course I don't, but it's not about Éponine anymore. We've got to liberate France. How would they do it without my leadership, Comebeferre? Who would be their leader? Lovesick Marius? Drunk Grantaire? Joly, who can't stand on his feet without complaining about germs?" Enjolras had involuntarily clenched his fists. "I have to be here for them and France, Combeferre."

The Philosophy student gave him a sad smile. "Then I must be here for them and France too, Enjolras. And for you, too."

Enjolras sighed resignedly. "Fine. Stay." he glanced up at his friend, a worried flicker in his eyes. "But please – try to survive. For Marion and the twins."

Combeferre nodded quietly and, after hesitating for a short moment, walked away. Just as he watched how his best friend started commanding a few young boys to finish getting their rifles ready, Enjolras couldn't help but knit his brow just a little bit. The truth was that he had no idea whether if they would make it from the barricade, but he had thought of that before – what was to come would come, and that was just as inexorable as the fact that he was going to fight until the very end.

Just as he crossed his arms, he felt how someone tapped him on the shoulder and turned around to find little Gavroche beaming up at him. He, however, was not smiling, which was something the little boy noticed within seconds.

"How ya doin', 'Jolras?" asked the youngster, his smile fading a little.

"What are you doing here, Gavroche?" asked the man, sternly looking down at him. "You're ought to be home with Éponine and Azelma."

Gavroche shrugged. "'Ponine wasn't home. 'Zelma wasn't, either. Anyway, I wanna be in the revolution."

Enjolras's frown deepened at the mention of Éponine's disappearance, but decided that it probably wasn't worth the worry. "Gavroche, go back home. Stay safe. Éponine would kill me if she ever knew I allowed you here."

However, the little boy seemed to ignore Enjolras words and, with an astounding determination, hopped onto a table and rose both of his arms as though saluting everyone in the room. A few of the students turned around and chuckled at the odd vision, but smiled at the little boy, who was now starting to sing softly.

"Do you hear the people sing, singing the song of angry men?" said the boy, a proud smile on his face. "Singing the song of angry men? It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again!"

Enjolras frowned and crossed his arms, glancing worriedly at Combeferre. His friend's blue eyes glanced from Gavroche to the bemused students, while Joly shook his head disapprovingly. Bahorel and Courfeyrac, however, were now cheering along with the little boy.

"When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums – !" continued Courfeyrac as Gavroche hopped onto his back.

"There is a life about to start when tomoooooorrow comes!" finished Bahorel, giving the last notes an unnecessary – but extremely comic – dramatic tone.

All of the students started laughing and chuckling between sonorous applauses. Combeferre chuckled loudly, and even Enjolras smiled a little. Grantaire, half-awakening from his drunk stupor, smiled half-heartedly at the little boy and the strange show the two students and Gavroche had made up within moments.

It was only a couple of hours before the uprising, but the students were now all smiling and content with what was coming ahead.

I am so so sorry for the super late update! I've been as busy as hell lately and will be for the next few weeks. I'm moving to Barcelona, and with all that and my GCSE's I haven't been able to update for ages. So again, sorry for the delay and the short chapter! I promise I will try and update sooner.

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