A/N: I am so sorry that the updates are beginning to take longer and longer and I wish I could say that that is definitely going to change, but that's not a promise I can make at the moment. I will however try my very best to write ahead as much as possible whenever I have spare time and then try to post chapters at semi-regular intervals. I didn't really intend for the story to go in this direction. I never wanted to invent my own characters, but I'm intrigued about what it will be like creating Enjolras' family. So please review and let me know what you think of my interpretations and ideas!

"How could you bring a disgusting street rat into our home?" a man's voice boomed. The man stood in front of Éponine and Enjolras, a furious expression on his face. He greatly resembled Enjolras, but his hair was almost completely gray and there were creases around his eyes and across his forehead that aged him.

"Do not speak of her that way!" Enjolras yelled at his father in response. "She will be my wife!"

"If you wanted to punish me, there are easier ways to do it than marrying this filth. She'll bleed you dry and run off to the next wealthy man who takes pity on her."

"I don't want his money," Éponine said firmly, trying to stand her ground.

"Don't get used to our lifestyle, dear," a slight, elegantly dressed woman responded coldly. Her nearly white blonde hair was tied back, but several tight curls hung loosely around her slim face.

"She's not going anywhere," Enjolras said, wrapping his arm tightly around Éponine.

"She's not already pregnant, is she?" his mother gasped in horror, scrutinizing her future daughter in law. "She got her hands on a good gene pool."

"No," Éponine snapped. "I'm marrying him because I love him. I'd marry him even if he was dirt poor and ugly as sin."

Enjolras' father narrowed his eyes and uttered his final warning, "If you marry this peasant girl you can never come back here."

"Éponine," Enjolras murmured, gently nudging her awake. "We're here."

"Hmm?" she mumbled, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She tried to push the dream out of her mind; his family could never be as horrible as she imagined. It was just nerves and excitement messing with her sleep.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Enjolras asked her genuinely, looking a little unsettled himself.

"You're not going to talk me out of this," she replied, smiling at him before turning to climb out of the carriage. Forgetting all about her nightmare, she stretched her arms above her head as if reaching for the sun. Her limbs were stiff from the trip, she wasn't used to sitting still for such a long time. Enjolras stepped out behind her and pushed his curls out of his eyes. "Besides, we've already made this whole journey," she added.

"Well I suppose we can't postpone this meeting any longer," he sighed, taking her hand. They walked along the path through a grand and immaculately groomed garden full of flowerbeds and vibrant shrubbery. The yard was so vast, Éponine could imagine getting lost in it. As they got closer, her eyes adjusted to the glaring sunlight and she was able to really see the work of architecture in front of her. The sheer size of the almost palace like house took Éponine's breath away. She hadn't seen many homes this large, and certainly not in the city. But Enjolras' childhood home nearly rivaled that of Marius' grandfather, M. Gillenormand. Stone pillars and huge windows decorated the stone façade. They walked up the vast stone steps to the huge wooden double doors and Éponine gulped nervously.

One of the doors swung open to reveal a pleasant looking older man who looked nothing like Éponine had imagined. She opened her mouth to introduce herself to her fiancés father when Enjolras said, "Henri!" He sounded delighted and was grinning widely.

"Luc!" he uttered in surprise, sounding equally delighted. Confusion muddled Éponine's mind. Clearly this man was not his father after all, but who was he? And who's Luc? The two men shared a quick hug before Enjolras turned back to her and acknowledged the confused expression on her face.

"My full name is Luc Olivier Enjolras. Olivier is my father. I don't really go by it anymore," he said quickly. Why had she never asked what his first name was? She was about to marry him and until now she didn't even know that his name was Luc? "And this is Henri," he gestured towards the older man. "He's worked for my parents since before I was born. He helped raise my siblings and I."

"Oh," Éponine said, smiling warmly at him. "It's lovely to meet you."

"Henri, this is my fiancée, Éponine," Enjolras continued with his introduction.

"Even lovelier to meet you, my dear," Henri said, stepping forward to embrace her. Éponine returned his hug and he patted her back as if they were already as close as him and Enjolras appeared to be. It was surprisingly pleasant to be so openly greeted by this man she had never met before. It was clear that he loved Enjolras like a child and he didn't seem to have the slightest bit of apprehension towards his relationship with Éponine. Hopefully his actual parents would be just as welcoming.

"Where are my parents?" Enjolras asked, suddenly seeming more tense. Éponine looked at him nervously, chewing on her lip.

"They are in the sitting room I believe," Henri responded, sensing the change in the emotional atmosphere. "You have nothing to worry about." He touched Éponine's arm comfortingly and she looked up at him gratefully.

"Thank you," she murmured. Enjolras took her hand again and they entered.

"Georges and Pierre are upstairs as well," Henri called after them, "and Charlotte is having her painting lesson on the back terrace."

"Who is he talking about?" Éponine whispered to Enjolras and they walked across the foyer.

"My siblings," Enjolras sighed. "The only one's he left out are Amélie and Philippe. Both are married and have families. I assume they will be here for dinner though."

"What are they like?" she asked.

"Anyone in particular or do you want a quick run through of them all?" he chuckled, lightening some of Éponine's tension.

"All of them," she responded with a giggle of her own.

"Alright, well Amélie is the eldest. She was very protective of all of us growing up," he began, looking wistful, "She married a factory owner about five years ago now and they have three children. Next is Philippe. Him and I were quite competitive with each other and he always had this air of superiority because he was older. He married not long after Amélie did to a rising opera singer- a soprano. She's quite lovely," he added, "Then there is myself and Charlotte- I'm seven minutes older. She's the artist of the family. Went to a prestigious art school and still takes painting lessons to this day as Henri just mentioned, not that she needs them, her work is quite incredible. We're very much opposites- she sees the beauty in everything while I see all the problems that need to be fixed. We balance each other- her and I have always been close. I think you two would get along brilliantly." His face brightened as he spoke about his twin and a smirk appeared on his lips. "Then there is Georges. He's fourteen and honestly a bit girl crazy." He chuckled at a memory and shook his head. Éponine smiled up at him, completely entranced by this big family that was still only imaginary for her. "And last is little Pierre who is only nine. I think he's a bit too much like me for my parent's liking and he's still just a child," he concluded smiling slightly.

"Wow," she sighed, "I can't imagine what it must have been like growing up with so many siblings around.

"Quite chaotic at times. But in a house this large, there were always places to escape for a little while," he replied just as they reached a door. "You ready?"

His parents must be just on the other side. She gulped and nodded, not trusting her voice. He pushed the door open and they stepped inside. A man sat behind a large wooden desk, looking almost exactly as she had imagined. His hair was graying at the temples and the vibrant blond that Enjolras held onto had faded. Creases around his eyes and mouth looked more like laugh lines to Éponine than the kind you would get from years of grimacing. He was broad shouldered and looked as though he maintained much of the strength from his youth, but he did not look nearly as stern and cruel as he did in her nightmare. Bright blue eyes glanced up from the heavy book he was holding and an easy smile pulled up the corners of his lips.

From the corner of her eye, Éponine saw a tall, slender woman hop up from her seat on a pale blue satin sofa. "Luc!" the woman exclaimed, delighted. Her hair was not the white blonde Éponine had seen in her dream, but rather a lovely strawberry blonde that was piled on her head in a delicate chignon, a few pieces falling loose around her pleasant face. She wore a modest emerald dress that brought out the red in her curls. Her skin was very fair, but a smattering of freckles and the natural rosiness of her cheeks made her look very lively and youthful.

She held her son's face between her hands as her husband set down his heavy book and stood up to greet them. "Oh, my baby, I'm so happy to see you alive and well," his mother cooed. "How could you endanger your life like that? You had us so worried!"

"Mother I'm fine," Enjolras sighed, already exasperated with his mother's concern.

"François wrote us that you were injured," she continued.

"I didn't know that," he grumbled, angered by this information. "I assure you mother, I'm fine."

"But-"

"He said he's fine, Margaux," Olivier said, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Besides, he didn't come here to have you fuss all over him, he came to introduce us to his future wife."

Everyone's eyes shifted to Éponine and she could feel the blood rushing to her face and colouring her cheeks. "Hi," she breathed.

A/N: So there you have it! Next up is the big family dinner! PLEASE REVIEW!