The snow glistens a brilliant white under the late sun. The grown woman now walking gracefully across the grounds of Père-Lachiese, a bundle of bright red roses in her arms. The soft cotton material of her dress dragging behind her, leaving long streaks in the snow. Matilda wraps her fingers around the stem of the roses, the thrones pricking her fingers, but she doesn't mind. She reaches Enjolras' grave, the carvings of his name slowly being withered away by age and vines starting to crawl and hide the stone.
Andrè Enjolras, 1806-1832.
The year of the rebellion just seemed so long ago, that to her, it now just becomes a nothing but a memory. She sets the flowers down, kneeling beside his grave, touching the snow that covers the ground. It's has been years since she has last seen Enjolras, yet she still cares for him in her heart, even after being married with a fine, rich man, she visits occasionally. Her reason? She visits the graves occasionally to see her "cousin" that died at the barricades. And he believes her.
She kneels down next to Enjolras' grave, laying down the bright red roses down on the bed of snow that covered the ground. She smiles again.
"We did it Enj," she starts in a croak. "We did it. The people are rising again, they're standing up against the monarch. We could win!" She touches the surface of the snow with her hands, the bitter cold chilling her fingers through her glove.
16 years ago, the barricades rose from the stones outside of the Musain cafe. The rebels shouting, screaming, fighting for the rights of the people. For the people. But they didn't stand up and help and it failed. After all these years, the people finally realised what the rebels did those years ago and finally took a stand.
"You're not cold?" a ragged voice startles Matilda. She turns around to see a rather ravishing, old Marius behind her. "You should be with Rène, keeping warm."
"And you should be with Cosette, keeping warm."
"Agh, she's let me go for today. Where is your gorgeous husband?"
"He's in England for the next week," she replies. Then she turns to him, sneering. "And you can't call him gorgeous."
"Alas! She admits he is the most ravishing man in Paris to the day!" he cheers.
Matilda can't help but laugh. She knows that he is right. Rène - in his younger days - was rather charming. Fair hair that falls over his emerald green eyes, tall and strongly built. Rich, but modest and humble. Women swoon when he walks past them, only Matilda to be the lucky one to swipe him off his feet. They fell helplessly in love with each other, becoming inseparable, but Matilda occasionally visits Enjolras once a year. Even after all these years, Rène still looks rather charming.
"So why are you here?" she asks Marius.
"To come visit my friends, I haven't talked to them in a while. Not after Jacques and Èponine were born anyway."
"I still find it rather awkward that you named you eldest daughter after the girl who loved and stalked you."
"It's called respect," Marius scoffs. "You called your son Andrè, after Enjolras right?"
She shakes her head. "No! After Rène's great grandfather."
"Ah, of course."
They laugh. Marius sits down next to Matilda, sitting by Enjolras' grave, Grantaire next to Enjolras on the right.
"The rebellion that is in the city square is still firing strong. The rebels seem to have a good chance of winning this time."
"Let them be, if they win then our work is done," Matilda says with a smile.
"He would be proud of you, Matilda," Marius says with a smile. His top hat sat crooked on his head, his black coat tightly wrapped around him to keep out the cold. "They all would be."
"I didn't even do anything. He asked me to keep the spark going, but I didn't do that. I let it die and after 16 years, it was relit."
"But you didn't give up on life. You kept going, pretended nothing happened, pretended like everything is okay-"
"And it is," she hesitates. "Now."
Marius humphs. A long pause falls between them, the sound of the cold wind blowing against the bare trees filling the silence. "Would you join this generation's rebellion?"
Matilda shrugs. "I'm not sure, would you?"
"Again and again," he replies. "Of course I can't because I have my children and Cosette, but yes, I would want to go back again."
"You're not too old for it?" Matilda says raising an eyebrow. The cool breeze brushes against her face, blowing her hair back.
"I'm only 45! Too old you say, Valjean was much older when he helped us!"
This was true. "Well I don't think rebels our generation would really like our help, especially in our condition," she says. "You're still on your cane!"
"Ah buggers to my leg! It's been 11 years since the accident with the carriage and I can still walk. Cosette just doesn't allow me to leave the house without it."
11 years ago, a few years after the rebellion. A drunk man took off in a carriage that was under repair, the horse being whipped and beaten to go faster. Marius had just gotten a fresh bouquet of white and yellow tulips for Cosette for their five year anniversary wedding present. He had stepped out of the flower shop, stepped onto the street and the horse knocks him over, trampling his leg. 16 months he was in a cast and a cane and he is now bound to a limp for the rest of his life.
The two share a few laughs here and there, exchanging stories, talking how they still would years ago before the barricades. Oh how their lives have changed over the years; Matilda finally being married to a noble, rich man, Cosette and Marius finally living in a house of their own, Valjean passing away, the kids they had. It all seem to have gone so quickly in just 16 years.
The sun now hides behind a cluster of clouds, dimming Père-Lachiese into a soft dark shade. Marius stands and dusts off the snow off his trousers, leaning slightly on his cane. "Nice to talk to you again my friends," he says with a smile to Courfeyrac and the others, looking down at the ground. "And to you too, Matilda. All the best for the future."
"Thank you, Marius."
He smiles one last time at her and turns and walks back to the carriage that waits for him.
Finally, Matilda is alone again. Well, not alone, Enjolras said that he would always be there with her, but lately she never feels him around her anymore. Matilda brushes off the snow that's fallen on her shoulders, her brown curls covered with white flakes of ice and snow, the wind chilling her arms.
"We did it, Enj," she says to Enjolras, if he is even listening. "We finally did it, after all these years, what we started is successful." She wipes a tear away from her cheek. "I always thought that I would've been spending our success with you here by my side, growing old and having children. But you're not. Now I have Rène and I've never felt you beside me anymore. You told me you'd always be by my side, that you'll be beside me after you left me forever and I don't feel you with me anymore. I never have moved on, Enj, there's always been this hole in my chest that no one has been able to fill. I tried to move on, I thought Rène and Andrè would keep my mind off you and it did for a while, until 1848 came and the rebellion just hit me and reminded me of you." Her voice chokes with tears, the words being held back by something that she hasn't felt for 16 years. "Years ago you kissed me in a room that has now become a new apartment with a new name. I ran from you because I was scared, scared that I would fall for you and that I'd give my heart away for you, and I did just that. Then we sparked the rebellion and you confessed your love for me again at the barricades in the pouring rain and you proposed." She reaches for something in her pocket that crumples between her hands.
The note that Enjolras had left for her. She keeps it with her everywhere, always in her pocket as a memory.
"People talk about a boy that walks around the streets that looks like you, Enj. They talk about the boy with the golden hair and eight bullet holes in his chest, they call him "the leader of the barricade", but you died. I saw you die with my own eyes, Enj. I don't know if they just mock the Amis or it's the truth that you could still walk around the streets of Paris, but I can't live in the shadows pretending I was never at the barricades anymore." She slowly ascends to a stand, the snow falling off the skirt of her dress. She runs her fingers over the engraved writing of his name on the tombstone, the stone rough and cold. Tears fall onto the bed of snow that covers his grave. "16 years and look what's become of all this," she says. "I can't keep doing this, Enjolras. I can't keep making excuses to visit you every month. I have to move on like you told me to," she chokes. "I'm so sorry Enjolras, but goodbye."
The tears fall down her cheeks as she turns away from the grave, ready to walk away and move on with her life. 16 years, 16 long years and now she decides to let him go. She smiles sadly as she walks out of the Perè-Lachiese.
A boy with fair, golden curls and eyes that shine with a cobalt blue in the sun watches as her carriage rides away. Tears streaming down his marble cheeks as he remembers every word Matilda had just said about him. The lies, the hiding, the avoidance; all of this to keep her life going normal. The boy owns nothing, not even an identity. The people of Paris call him "the nameless child", but some also call him "the leader of the barricade". But no real name. He owns nothing but a blood red coat and eight bullet holes imprinted in his chest. And even with that he still has nothing, nothing but a broken smile and a nameless face.
Oh my god, after 3 exhilarating months, it's all done! This has been so fun to write and I'm sorry this one came a few weeks later than I usually would post a new chapter but I've had so many tests and a performance in the past month it's been pretty hectic. Anyway, thank you so much to all of you who have followed this story since the very beginning! It's been a bit of an emotional ride, especially with my last twist there (what do you think about it by the way?). But, thanks again and I love you all so much, please review on what you've thought of the story and please lookout for new fan fictions coming soon. Love you all❤️❤️❤️