Yay, reviewers! gasps in pure surprise Anyways, apologies if this isn't the best of my work, wrote this in a rush, y'see. But Read/Review!
Oh, yes, and I forgot: Victor Hugo owns everything except for Shanaelle. He wouldn't have the right mind to put someone as Mary-Sueish as Shanny in there.
"Shanaelle Clairvaux, will you join the Friends of the ABC?"
Enjolras asked that question with such a dreamy look in his eyes. He was so desperate for an answer that he fell on his knees and began to look like he was worshipping the very ground that Shanny was standing on. Oh, how true love has molded this fine young revolutionary into a Mary-Sue!
Shanaelle's delicate green eyes turned a shade of lime green as she stared at him through her black eyelashes. "Oh? Les Amis de l'ABC? Ah yes, that group." She smiled and fluttered her silk fan. Despite the fact that she was a prostitute (which, at that time, was considered one of the lowest jobs held by a woman) she was able to dress so finely that even the Empress of insert random country was so jealous of her that she plotted with Shanaelle's mistress to get rid of her.
"Yes!" he said in an astounded voice as he slowly got up, fearing and worshipping the wonderful goddess. "How did you know?" The Friends of the ABC was a secret society and no one could ever know about it unless they were the most skilled spy. He stared in awe at her, amazed at the sight he was beholding.
Her green eyes flared up to a blue-green, making her even more beautiful than ever. "I was once a woman soldier and a head spy, you know," she said casually, like it was nothing at all. Really, it wasn't because our dear little girl knew so much that being a spy and a soldier in a male dominated society meant actually nothing to her. She smiled and put down her fan, revealing two delicate rose petals that formed a full, inviting pair of lips that Enjolras just wanted to kiss.
She is the most beautiful woman in the world! he thought and began to play nervously with his cravat, which he never did, yet, true love ruined many things including an in-character personality.
"But yes, I will join your little group and we'll see what I can do," she said and nodded her head, her brown tresses bobbing up and down despite the fact that they were tied up in a very, very fashionable knot.
It was like he saw the world anew; she had just accepted his very humble invitation. He smiled widely; his face now flushed to the very roots of his hair, and took her by the hand. The soft, uncallused hands were as cold as ice yet they generated such a warmth that Enjolras could not describe. The very feeling made him go all tingly inside. He turned to Shanaelle and smiled again. "Come now, I must show you to the other men!"
Bahorel, Grantaire and Bossuet were playing cards; Joly was looking at his tongue in the mirror and the rest were still discussing love when Enjolras entered the backroom of the Café Musain with a red kind of flush on his face. They looked up, surprised.
Combeferre stood up and walked over to Enjy, very concerned. "What happened?" he asked.
"I want to show you all the newest member of the Amis de l'ABC!" he said and jumped up and down like an excited, thirteen year old schoolboy. The other men looked aghast, as the real Enjolras would never do anything so foolish and childish.
Jehan coughed a little and glanced at Feuilly, who glanced at Courfeyrac, who started to laugh. "That's a funny a joke, that is. We're not accepting any new members! Now why don't we just have a nice glass of wine and—oh…" He was astounded at the lovely Aphrodite that had just walked into the backroom.
It was Shanaelle.
Now, Courfeyrac had seen plenty of pretty and beautiful girls in the Latin Quarter and in the brothels of lower Paris. But he had never seen anything so beautiful, so delicate and so perfect. He, the Casanova of the group, was left wordless as he stared at the lovely girl with the hourglass figure, the fine sense of fashion and the lovely lips. "I, I, I…mon dieu!" he exclaimed and buried his head in his elbows.
That wasn't the only reaction that Shanaelle received from the group. Combeferre turned bright red and began to fumble with his glasses nervously, muttering something about Shanny being prettier than any butterfly or flower he knew; Jehan turned pale and then red, then rushed off to write sonnets about the girl's beauty; Joly stared at her, dropping his precious mirror and cane; Bossuet muttered something about Aphrodite; Bahorel muttered something obscene; Feuilly, like all the others, went red and tried to busy himself with fans while poor Grantaire snapped out of a hangover and stared at her with 'intelligent' eyes.
So to say, all of the Amis were smitten by this sweet little prostitute Shanaelle.
Courfeyrac banged his hand against the wooden table, emitting a kind of tremor throughout the whole room. "I say we let her in! Eh, boys?" He stood up and looked around the room, a crazy gleam in his eyes. There was a unanimous cheer from the other eight men, including Enjolras.
The vote was that Shanaelle would be accepted as the only woman ever to venture into the backroom of the Café Musain (minus Louison) and the only woman to ever set foot into the group of the Friends of the ABC. Yes, Mademoiselle Clairvaux was really that special.
Shanaelle smiled, her rose petal lips breaking apart and revealing a set of teeth so bright that it may just blind someone some day. Yes, despite the fact that she lived in the slums of Paris she was still able to have perfectly manicured nails and a set of clean, white, sparkling, dazzling teeth.
"Thank you very much, dear sir," she cooed and edged closer to Courfeyrac and smiled a luminous smile.
Enjolras, who had never really had anything to be jealous for (he was hawt, rich and learned), now felt the green devil of jealousy bite him hard. "Stay away from her," he commanded and gave one of his signature glares to Courfeyrac. "We-we're here to discuss revolutions, not this silly thing you call 'love' or mistresses."
"Silly?" she asked in a half-whispering tone and gave a doe-eyed look to the blonde revolutionary. Her green eyes turned a shade of blue as her gaze directed itself over to Enjolras.
"Silly? Did I say that, I meant wondrous and loving!" He shook his head. "But we're still here to talk about revolutions," he added sternly, senses coming back to him. "Now, men and lady"—he smiled charmingly at Shanny—"justice is something valuable. Remember our motto, Mother France's motto: Liberté, égalité, fraternité. This is how France will be ruled in the future…" Enjolras continued with his speech with everyone (minus Courfeyrac) paying attention.
At the end of the speech there was scattered applause. Shanaelle sniffed a little but still managed to form a very charming, angelic smile. "How very lovely, how very moving," she commented in her harp-like voice and fluttered her fan in applause, after all, that was the proper thing to do.
Enjolras grinned and bowed at her. "Thank you, thank you! I do it for France." He paused and brushed past Shanny. "But I do it for you now."
As we can all see, Enjy was absolutely smitten with dear Shanaelle.
I almost threw up writing that chapter. Anyways, liked it? Disgusted? You should be. :P Review+points at button+