Disclaimer : All not mine…..I wish I owned Enjy though.

Author's Notes : Well this is finished, so updates are going to be very frequent for the next few weeks. Starting work on two sequels to this. One about Cosette because that girl gets a bad deal in fan fiction, and I'm hoping writing it will make me like her a bit more : ). And one about Enjolras because now I've started my portrayal of him I'm finding it hard to stop : )….. Also I've managed to jump about five years into this one chapter so bear with me…

Then it all went wrong….

My life was happy. I was fifteen years old, and still bright and pretty. My years on the farm had flown by as though they were a dream. I'd forgotten what it was to sleep under bridges and look for food. Estelle frequently tried to make me miserable, but when someone is as happy as I was insults just seem to bounce off them.

Marcelin was now five years old and a very charming child. He was the image (quite sadly) of his father – golden curls and big blue eyes. He now had two younger sisters, Yvette and Cecile. Monsieur Enjolras rarely saw his son, always away on "buisness". Marie and I had reason to believe otherwise as we frequently saw him walking through town with a pretty brunette on his arm.

"Maybe we should tell her" Marie said wringing her hands, something she always did when she was nervous.

"Tell who?" I replied.

"Madame Enjolras! About him and his….."

"Don't Marie" I advised. "It will only stir up trouble."

Besides, I had a feeling she knew but was too afraid to say anything. She was scared of her husband. Terrified in fact. We servants often saw her with black eyes and bruises, not believing her feeble "oh I tripped."

Although Marcelin had his pick of all the children in the neighbourhood, he seemed to prefer the company of servants. In particular Marie and myself. Monsieur Enjolras disapproved of this greatly, he didn't want his son playing with servants..

"Why not?" I asked Marie.

She shrugged.

"I don't understand that man" I whined.

Marcelin smiled up at me. "He says that I'm going to run the farm when I'm older and that farm owners don't soc…soc…."

"Socialise" Marie corrected.

"That's right! Don't sociaise with servants."

"Don't listen to him Marcelin" I cut in. "You can do whatever you want"

He grinned and reached out to take something from Marie. As his sleeve pulled up I noticed a large blue bruise.

"How did you do that?" I asked, pointing to it.

He blushed and looked at the floor. "Fellover."

"What?"

"Leave it" Marie hissed.

That was the first of many mysterious bruises that appeared on Marcelin. They would crop at everywhere, but never on his face.

"It's his father" I told Marie. "He's doing it!"

"Stay out of it" she told me. "You need this job."

And after all what could I do? A lowly servant girl standing up to her master over him striking his son, it would never work.

I was planning to go and confront him though. I was planning it that morning. It was a Thursday and bitterly cold. Estelle's husband was visiting. He was a horrible man – tall, skinny with eyes that bore right through you.

He was trying to tell me something about Waterloo when Estelle burst in. "You!" she snapped at me, before casting a smile at her husband. "The master wants to see you."

"Why does he want to see me?"

"I have no idea" she said. And as an afterthought "if I did I wouldn't tell you. He's in his office."

I walked to the house solemnly. I hadn't been inside his office since that first day when he had asked for my details. I walked through the maze of corridors, and arrived at the dark oak door.

I knocked on it nervously and was met with a curt "come in".

I entered and made my way to the chair in front of the desk. I was about to sit down when I remembered the first day – and so I stood beside it.

Monsieur was sat at his desk, glaring out at me from under that blonde hair. Formally he began "I have decided to dismiss you."

"Why?" I cried.

"You seem to be having a negative effect on my son, turning his back on this house and this farm. Why, just today he told me "Fantine says I can be whatever I want when I grow up".."

"Beat it out of him did you?" I replied.

He jumped out of his chair. "What did you say?"

"Did.You.Beat.It" I began, but was interrupted by him slamming his fist on the desk.

"I give you five minutes to fetch your things or I will excort you from the property myself! How dare you come in my office and say such things about…"

"But they're true!" I cried, and he raised his hand to my face.

"Five minutes girl. Now get out."

Terrified, I scuttled from the room back to the barn. I bundled two dresses and my comb into a bag and frantically ran around the farm searching for Marie.

But she was nowhere to be found. She'd gone on some errand to town. Crying from frustration, I admitted defeat and made my dejected way to the cart path.

"Fantine!" a familiar voice came from behind me. "Where are you going?"

Marcelin arrived at my feet. "And why are you crying?"

"Your father has dismissed me" I told him.

His lip trembled. "But why?"

"Because….." my voice trailed off and I knelt down to his height. "Remember what I always told you Marcelin. You don't have to work on this farm, you have to fight. Fight your father and fight for what you believe in. Do you promise?"

"I promise" he replied.

I hugged him, stood back up and continued on my way. Marcelin chased me, pulled on my skirts, called my name. But I couldn't look at him because I knew that if I did I wouldn't be able to leave.

We reached the path. Marcelin was not allowed any further alone, and so stood still, calling my name.

I blinked back tears and turned left to the main road. Hearing a cart behind me, I turned – waving my arms around.

The cart pulled to a halt and the driver squinted at me.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"To Paris" came his reply.

"Then so am I" I said, and got in the back with the barrels.