May 20th, 1918

Dear Enjolras,

It is so strange to be writing in 1918, but the truth is the time has gone so quickly that I barely even noticed that it has been over six months since I last wrote to you, and for that I must say I am sorry. However, I feel that up until now, you would not have wanted to read what I had to write to you.

I will admit to you that over the past six or seven months I have not just been angry, nor have I been furious. Rather, I have been blind with rage and most of that rage, as much as I now hate to admit it, was directed at you. Because at the time, in my head, it was your responsibility to keep him safe. It was your job to look after him and you had not done that. I know it may have seemed like I was cutting you out of my life and to a certain extent I was, but it was because I knew that if I were to visit you in Paris, you would have left in an even worse position than how you arrived. I know, you are probably shocked at reading that from me, but you and I both know that I have not always been a lady, and blind rage tends to bring out the worst in me. Therefore I chose not to visit, or write until I was in the position where my letter would not be full or passive or outright aggression, and that moment seemed to have come earlier this week.

After reading your letter and hearing of your delight in eating my food at the hospital - thank you for all your kind compliments, they did make it hard for me to remain angry at you - I decided I would return to cooking, through the hospital. All seemed to be going fine, I would bring all my food and the soldiers - and a fair few of the nurses - eyes would light up when I would arrive with mountains of food in hand. However, then one of the stricter nurses started complaining about hygiene and allergy standards, which I was apparently not adhering to. Needless to say the days of luxurious food at the hospital were short lived. However, whilst I was at the hospital, I came across the person who inspired me to start writing to you again.

That is right Enjolras, guess who has returned to Paris? Joly! And I was so so happy to see him, and Courfeyrac and I could not believe how much he had changed. I feel like we repeat ourselves so much "Oh I have changed" "You will never recognise me" as if it is strange to have changed in four years. That is right, we have all been separated for four years, of course we have all changed! Anyway, Joly has been stationed at the hospital in Paris indefinitely. He had previously been working on the Eastern front, assisting the hundreds of thousands of Russian soldiers. However, as the Russians are no longer fighting (and given the unrest in the area now) the French over there were promptly brought back to Paris to work.

Joly had some of the most interesting stories to tell; apparently the winter in Russia is so cold that one can barely even step outside, as they would almost freeze to death. It is so cold that some soldiers told him that when the prisons get too full, the King (at the time) would send prisoners out into the snow instead. He has even learnt a little Russian, which is such a beautiful language to listen to, even if I understand none of it. However, whilst he was working in the hospital, he did not manage to escape the horrors that come with being part of a war. He spoke of men leaving in ambulances to rescue the dead and then coming back in coffins themselves. He too has lost people, I guess we all have. Though sometimes I forget about that, I tend to forget that everyone else is losing people too, it is just that after I had suffered such a devastating loss I lost all perspective, and stopped thinking about the people around me, their feelings. I guess I just stopped thinking, completely.

The truth is, you are right. I cannot afford to disappear, to stop doing everything, especially not in my home. It is so funny that whilst I was so depressed and could not do anything the pantry remained perfectly stocked whilst no one bothered to clean the thick layer of dust off the cabinets. I have concluded that this family would fall apart if I were to perish; they would bury themselves in a pile of dirty dish plates and old clothes.

Enjolras, the truth is that whilst this letter may sound happy and upbeat, I am still devastated. Not a day goes by when I am not struck by the fact that I will never see my brother again. That he will never grow up, get married, go to university or have kids. His life was not even half lived and I will never be able to truly except that I will never see him again. But as you have been encouraging me for quite some time to get out there and actually do something, I am returning to the cafe, with sweets in hand tomorrow. It has been over a year since I was last there, I hope they remember me.

I hope you are safe, in Somme, to be honest I have not been reading the papers lately, or listening to the wireless therefore I truly have no idea how the war is going, but as always I pray that it will be over soon. Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Joly and Azelma all send their best wishes and are hoping for your safe return.

I am sorry for not writing sooner, but if you are willing to start these letters again then so am I.

Eponine.

June 27, 1918

Dear Eponine,

You are right; writing to you now after so long is strange. I guess it is so strange because life itself is strange, a non linear composition which at times makes no sense at all. Back when I was writing to you, from 1914-1917, I needed your letters, I relied on them to get be through the months, which was really not healthy now that I think about it.

However, since you stopped writing to me and I stopped writing to you I have adapted. I have learned to live like so many of the other men who are away at war, and without someone at home to correspond with and it actually been beneficial. It got to the point where I was speaking to you and only you, for I felt that it was all I needed. However I was missing out on, or rather forgetting about what I needed most, people that could relate to me.

I would write to you, expecting you to know exactly how I felt when of course you could not, and it was really unrealistic of me to expect that of you. Why would you understand what it was like to fight? It really makes no sense, rather than looking for someone who would understand me in you, all I had to do was like around me and realise who I was with. These men were the people I could relate to, they were the support network I needed.

I will not lie, I did miss talking to you, and even the fact that I am able to once again write to you overjoys me, but now I look back on the past few months and realise that perhaps some distance is what I needed. I was becoming too reliant, too dependent on you. I have never been the type of person to rely heavily on others and now I understand why. I am just a much better, much healthier person when I support myself.

This is not to say that I do not want to write to you, of course I do. It is so strange that I had managed to block our correspondences out over the past few months but when the boy who delivers our mail arrived with a letter from you I was absolutely overwhelmed. I do not think I have ever moved so quickly and tore a letter open so ferociously. At first I could not believe that you had actually written to me, I was so surprised as I had given up on ever hearing from you gain, it was a nice change.

All these men at the Somme do not know of you as I had tried to avoid talking about you as talking leads to thinking and thinking about you made me miss you, and miss the fact that you were no longer writing to me. However now, after discovering that a lady was writing to me, the badgered me with questions for the rest of the day, and I barely knew what to say. I am not sure how to describe you anymore or what to say about you for the truth is, and I hope that you are not hurt to say this but my feelings about you have changed. When I needed you most, when I saw you brother killed before my eyes, and when I too had only just survived you were not there for me, not when I begged time and time again for you to come visit me you did not. I was so close to you, but you never came and when that happens to you, it hurts, it hurts so much that right now, I am not sure if my feelings for you will ever return.

You see, when you get so close to death time and time again, you no longer want to be a secondary character in someone's life. If I could have, I would have died for Gavroche, and if the time had ever come, I would have did for you too if it was necessary but you would never have done the same to me. I was never the person to accept second place, ever, and I am not doing it now. I enjoy writing to you and I cherish our friendship, I always will.

The Somme is interesting, I feel like I am at the point where nothing could possibly kill me in this war. I have no idea why, it just seems that if there is ever a deadly situation, I manage to just survive. I am here assisting the British as the Germans have launched another offensive into the area and I am quite happy because learning English last year have finally come in handy. I am worried now that once I get back to Paris I will forget all of it, and therefore now I have an extra reason to go visit Marius and Cosette in England.

Also, I cannot believe that you saw Joly and that he is back in Paris! That is absolutely wonderful news. It has gotten to the point in this war where I have seen so much death, so much carnage that I am sure all my friends have died. It is fantastic to hear that he has survived and that I will have friends to return to in Paris. And he speaks Russian now? Perhaps I can teach him English and he can teach me Russian that to me sounds like a fair exchange. The knowledge of his survival fills me with hope, perhaps even more of my old friends are still alive, perhaps more of us defied the odds and survive this war, how incredible that would be.

I apologise for this letter, I know it lacks focus, but we are so, so busy, I have not had the time to write this letter in just one sitting, and that explains why it jumps around so much.

Until next time,

Enjolras

AN: Thank you for reading, following, favouriting and a special thank you to those who reviewed. Please remember that reviews and constructive criticism are always appreciated.

Once again you have all surprised me with the incredible number of reviews the last chapter, thank you so much, I really appreciate it. Once again I have chosen to answer everyone through PM because then the AN would be longer than the chapter itself.

To the guest, thank you so much for commenting and I hope you enjoyed this update, I cant quite work out if it is happier than the past few letters or not.

Thank you so much everyone.