Angels of the Battlefield

Chapter 6

Standard disclaimer inserted here

All right, I feel like a pig and a demon. Not only have I not updated in a while but I wasn't spelling Enjolras' name right. Thanks to the flamers who gave me the awakening I needed. I also realised that I had no right to set a limit of reviews and that I wasn't really thanking my reviewers for their enormous help. There was also the problem that Eponine's too perfect. I need help for ideas that will show Eponine's imperfections. This chapter is short because I didn't want me to mess up again. To all my reviewers, help!

P.S.: Is it true that this is too formal and that Eponine hasn't run into any problems? Is it wrong to have borrowed an idea from Tamora Pierce?

Eponine was walking through the streets, worried about her fate. What was that light? Surely she was simply going mad. So caught up was she in her thoughts that she didn't notice when a hand slipped around her waist.

She did notice when Montreparnase (sp?) said, "I think you forgot our deal, my pretty, I help you build up a network of spies and you keep me company each night. No come to my lodgings."

Eponine was too weak to protest, too beaten, while she would never show it to her friends at the café, she was rotting from the inside out, as the people of the streets began to take advantage of her. She had stopped fighting when she had realised that her father and mother were the ones bringing the men.

It seemed pointless now. If only she could be that free spirit of long ago, that spirit that had settled in after Cosette left. It was then that she had learned from the medicine-man, she was glad that the training had been put to good use. The memory though, brought on others; his broken body that she couldn't heal; the abuse her father had shown; the child that she had had to kill with herbs because it was one of rape; the anger that had made her say things to her sister that had separated them.

She had tried to hide that when she took to the streets, waiting for the knife that would end her. Instead, she had grown to the top of the pyramid, becoming a lady worthy of the title "La Solitaire Painteuse", a name that showed that she was powerful since no lady would take such a name and not be challenged for being … alone… in her reign. At the thought of those days, the warrior-lady burst once more through her misery, its pale light shining with radiance the colour of a pearl.

With a sudden change of spirit, Eponine knocked out Montreparnase and ran down the stairs, clad only in pants and a light top. Seething, she ran through Paris and into the café Musain. She saw Sophia, the lady who had brought her down the hall. Sophia took one look at her and brought her to the loft.

"Eponine, what has happened to you, you look like you were raped! Oh no, you were and it looks like it happened a lot," said her friend and keeper of her identity, "Eponine, you have to fight back."

"I know."

Sophia sighed, knowing how hard it had been for the painter to tell her this. What a predicament, with no pride to stand up and fight the rapists but too much to tell others of it. The girl was proud, of warrior spirit, yet she was captivated by healing, she was the blade and the herbs; the honour and the tranquility. Yet she couldn't hold onto to it all and the responsibility. She was too stubborn, to full of temper and pride to do that.

'She'll end up hurting herself,' thought the woman with a sigh as she asked the eighteen year old to stay in the loft for tonight.

So this is the chapter that ties up some ends, hopefully, and shows you Eponine's faults. I have a rough idea of the plot, but ideas are always welcome. So tell me what you think and help me. Once again, sorry for all the waiting and mistakes, please forgive me.

Brown-Eyed Fencer of Conte (flyery)