A/N: Thanks everyone! Now there are just a few chapters remaining after this! Updates may be a tad slow till March 4 since I have the scariest final exam to prepare for.
37: Facing Down Dragons
It is only a matter of days till more stories emerge from the woodwork, allowing the human rights commission to put together more than one solid case against General Fersen and his numerous cronies. "Hopefully after this arraignment, more military and police units will give up working for warlords," Enjolras tells Eponine while they are having breakfast on the morning of January 31.
"We're going to be on the watch for a long time. Maybe forever. We do work in the bottomless pit sectors," Eponine points out before snatching up a spoonful of cereal.
"I prefer to call it part of humanity's ongoing struggle upwards," Enjolras says as he sets down his bowl of granola.
"You'd be bored in that perfect world you love to talk about." She laughs before reaching over to sample some of his food. "You're always looking for something to fix."
"Change the environment, and the human condition will strive to adapt." He deftly lifts a small piece of caramelized banana from her bowl. "That's the way progress works."
Eponine sticks out her tongue before stealing more of his granola. "How long will today's arraignment be?" she asks more seriously.
"Around three hours. We should be done before noon," Enjolras replies. He pauses, trying to imagine any possible delaying tactics that the defence may use to stall the proceedings, before finally deciding that these measures can only go so far. "That's more than enough time to see to things before the wedding later."
"Everything is going to be a madhouse by then. Fantine is doing most of the worrying for everyone," Eponine remarks. She hooks her pinkie around his and tugs on his finger lightly. "Will you be okay?"
"With the wedding preparations or the arraignment?"
"I may as well say both."
"I already am," he says as he runs a finger over the lines and calluses of her palm. It isn't just for her benefit; on the contrary he is sure, absolutely certain in this moment that there is something beyond the shadows that trail his memories and will converge in the courthouse. 'One would say it's light,' he muses silently before eating more of his breakfast. "What time will you meet Cosette later?"
"Lunchtime. It's cutting it close too, but I need to cover at the OPD today since our junior residents have an exam," Eponine replies. "At least Chetta is giving me a ride. The church is quite far off."
"I'd better check if there's a less scenic route," Enjolras notes. "Especially since we'll be driving home late at night."
She laughs and shakes her head. "Make it early in the morning. It's a Saturday so of course we're all taking advantage of that." She checks her watch and quickly drains what's left of her coffee. "I have to get going now."
"Need a lift?"
"I'll be fine. I have an early meeting too." She gives him a quick kiss. "Give the general and his boys hell."
"See you tonight," he says as he brushes a stray strand of hair out of her face, making her blush before she picks up her bag and rushes out the door. As he gathers up the dishes he sees before him the images of just some of the people whose lives have been disrupted in some way or another by Fersen's machinations, from poor Chretein Dupond to Javert, to even the workers of the weaving room. 'This much I can do for them,' he reminds himself, knowing that nothing will truly make up for Dupond's injuries, or those of so many others whose cases will be brought forward today.
When he stops by the law office he finds Feuilly, Bossuet, and Bahorel all gathered around one computer, laughing and slapping each other's backs. "I take that isn't related to any legal proceeding?" Enjolras greets his friends dryly.
"It is-the upcoming wedding," Bossuet replies gleefully.
Enjolras raises an eyebrow as he sees the video they are working on, so aptly titled "Marius Now Amorous." "Are you planning to show that at the reception?"
"It's nothing that even Alexandra can get corrupted by, so no need for Courfeyrac or Marius and Cosette to worry about the little ones," Bahorel laughs. "Is Courfeyrac coming in today?"
"He's on best man duty, so probably not," Enjolras informs him.
Bahorel nods and cackles as he advances the video to show a photo of their group of friends having a water fight outside their college dormitory. "Look at us then, all sticks and bones."
"And with questionable color vision," Enjolras adds, noticing Bahorel's obnoxious floral printed board shorts in the photo.
Feuilly bursts out in helpless laughter even as he reaches for a postmarked envelope. "This came in today," he says, handing it to Enjolras.
The attorney nods on seeing the typewritten address on the envelope. 'At least Javert is doing well,' he notes as he reads through the brief missive. "Any other important calls?"
"The toilet paper press, that's all," Bossuet says with unmitigated disgust.
"I see." He pockets Javert's missive and heads to his workspace, if only to put it in some order. As he answers email, goes over documents and answers a few calls, he is all the while aware of his friends boisterous laughter; a sound that might have been irritating in another day and age. 'Not anymore, not after almost losing it,' he tells himself. Somehow the hustle and bustle helps ground him in the here and now, and to revel in things that are fast becoming more than probabilities with each passing day.
He heads to the courthouse at nine in the morning, already bracing for the torrent of questions that will surely meet him there. Just as soon as he gets out of his car, he catches sight of Armand St-Just waiting on the curb. "I thought you'd be with your fellow correspondents," Enjolras greets him curiously.
"They're interviewing the defence counsel," Armand replies. He sighs as he regards his friend. "You're everyone's prosecutor. Ever the avenging angel. That's what they call you."
Enjolras shakes his head. "I'm only doing what has to be done. In other circumstances, someone else would rise to expose all this injustice. That is what people in your profession do too; they break the silence that allows for the wrong kind of tolerance."
"If only that were true all the time," Armand says as they begin walking to the courthouse. "Do you think after this trial, you could grant my paper a sort of exclusive?"
"You should contact Feuilly, Bahorel, and Bossuet. They are the ones who did a lot of groundwork for this case."
"I meant a sort of a man of the hour piece. Something of human interest."
Enjolras takes a moment to think. "I suggest you contact Mr. Fauchelevent-that is Marius' future father-in-law, and ask him about his foundation for the elderly, or his other causes. You could also ask Eponine about the work she does at a halfway house."
"Some wouldn't find that sort of work sexy," Armand comments.
"It is just as necessary as any legal battle," Enjolras points out.
Armand nods slowly. "I'll look into that. Thanks a lot."
By this time they are at the courthouse, where the journalists are still gathered around the lawyers representing General Fersen and his group. Enjolras takes the opportunity to walk into the building, only attracting the notice of the crowd at the very last second, leaving them no choice but to rush forward before the security guard bars their way. 'Shakespeare said that there would be a time for such a word,' he thinks as he finds his place in the courtroom designated for this proceeding. In a matter of minutes the hall fills up, with the defence counsel noisily admonishing a defiant looking General Fersen and several other tight-lipped military officers on one side of the room. The other side is far more silent as the witnesses and complainants for the prosecution all take their seats; Enjolras spots Mrs. Dupond in this crowd, leaning on Armand's arm. Following close behind is one of Dupond's children, pushing her father in a wheelchair. Chretein Dupond's eyes are tired but there is a light in them that Enjolras has not seen in so many months.
In due course a great majority of the accused plead 'guilty', but there are two or three who defiantly plead 'not guilty', much to the displeasure of the crowd. At last the judge presiding over the arraignment takes a deep breath before looking at General Fersen. "General Fersen, you are charged with five counts of murder, eight counts of conspiracy to murder, twenty counts of illegal possession and trafficking of firearms, thirty counts of assault, and twenty counts of illegal seizure of property. How do you plead?"
General Fersen puffs out his chest. "Not guilty." He glares at Enjolras despite the outraged jeers and catcalls from the opposite side of the room. "Don't you have any other charges to add, Attorney?"
"What charge, specifically?" Enjolras asks coolly.
"You should be dead," General Fersen sneers. "That or you should have turned tail when the threats to your life became so apparent."
'You do not forget someone who almost dealt your death,' Enjolras realizes. He can see Fersen's face as it was a year ago, unmasked and coolly arrogant as he lifted a gun to fire three shots in the middle of the square at Saint-Michel. The man is thinner now, perhaps more haunted but the impudence is still there, further spurring Enjolras' already fierce determination. The young man gets to his feet and looks the general in the eye. "Yes, I would be dead now-were it not for my friends who went far beyond what duty and friendship would require. It would be an insult to them, to everyone here, and to so many others if I were to accede to your wishes and remain silent."
General Fersen laughs. "Then you do not fear what I can do to your life?"
"You do not have a claim to it, or to anyone's," Enjolras retorts. He looks at the astounded judge. "Please continue with the arraignment, your Honor."
The judge nods solemnly. "The trial will commence this second of February at nine in the morning." With the single pounding of the gavel comes a chorus of cheers from the prosecution side as well as flabbergasted howls and protests from the defence. Even before Enjolras can finish speaking with Armand, the Duponds and the other witnesses and complainants, he can already hear his phone beeping with one message after another.
At length he picks up his phone just in time to get a call from Feuilly. "Hello. Are you all still at the office?" he asks his friend.
"Just about to leave, Chief. Looks like we've got a lot cut out for us next week," Feuilly says, his voice filled with happy trepidation. "How's everyone there?"
"Good. The Duponds send their regards."
"Nice. Is Mr. Dupond walking again?"
'Not physically,' Enjolras notes, seeing something like a smile gracing the injured man's face. "He's on the mend."
Feuilly lets out a sigh of relief. "That's good. So what are you going to do now?"
Enjolras checks his watch, which reads just about noon. "For now, there's a wedding to attend. I'll see you all there in a while."