I wanted to write the story of when the Amis first meet but, given the age differences I allotted them in my last fic, I realised that the likes of Enjolras and Prouvaire would arrive at university a couple of years after Combeferre, Joly etc. So instead, this is the story of Combeferre's first few weeks at university and the friendships he forms there. Oh, and I threw LeClair in again since everyone seemed to like him.
I realise that it's a slow start, but I hope you like it.
Disclaimer: Only LeClair is mine.
CHAPTER ONE - COMBEFERRE IS ON HIS OWN
Paris was a very large city, eighteen-year-old Etienne Combeferre noticed nervously, as he looked at the splendid view out of the window of his apartment. And tomorrow, he would be attending the university to begin his career as a medical student, with no one else to help him. He had to stand on his own feet now ā and that was a frightening thought!
He turned away from the window and settled in an armchair, suddenly very much aware that he was alone. He came from a very busy and noisy household and now was missing the familiar sounds of home; his father's merry laugh and the bustle as he came and went visiting his patients; his mother's soft voice as she sang and played the pianoforte; his four sisters' giggles and conversations as they sat at their embroidery. It sounded silly to admit it at the age of eighteen, but there was no other word for it ā he was homesick.
His parents had left him only a few hours ago; his mother with a tearful kiss to his forehead and his father with a reassuring embrace. They'd made sure he was settled in and had everything he would need before they had to set off on the three hour home journey. They were both incredibly proud that he, their only son, had decided to follow in his father's footsteps and become a doctor; so they had found him this apartment and purchased the equipment he would need. They had both told him that he would manage fine and that they were sure that he would do them proud. He was determined not to let them down.
He found himself wishing, for what felt like the thousandth time in the last few weeks, that Nicholas Enjolras - the fourth son of the aristocrat on the neighbouring estate - had not passed away four years ago. True, his particular friend had always been Julien (Nicholas's younger brother), but Nicholas, had he lived, would have been the same age and would be starting university right now too. He had been a confidant and friendly young man, who would have been able to speak to anyone they met tomorrow. But sadly, there was no point in wishing ā he knew that. Nicholas was gone and Julien, however much he hated his home and wished to leave it, was too young to go to university. Etienne knew he was going to have to get through tomorrow on his own.
With a sigh, he made his way through to his bedroom and got into bed. He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to calm the twisting nerves in his stomach. Unsuccessful, he leaned over and blew out the candle, enveloping himself in darkness.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
The next morning, Combeferre woke up far earlier than he needed to. Unable to get back to sleep, he got out of bed, washed quickly and started to dress. He put on a new white shirt, navy breeches, a pale blue waistcoat and a navy jacket that matched his breeches. He tied on a cream cravat and went to stand in front of the mirror while he tied back his brown curly hair with a navy ribbon.
With his soft eyes, smooth face and gentle smile, Combeferre was strikingly handsome, and that morning looked exceptionally smart. However, when he self-consciously looked in the mirror, he frowned at his reflection. He had never had much self-esteem.
Though he gladly swallowed a cup of tea, Combeferre found himself far too nervous to eat breakfast. Instead, he spent the remaining time he had in a frantic perusal of the books his father had given to him. He had tried to memorise as much as possible but he was convinced that he would forget something simple and be made to look a fool.
He put off leaving for as long as he was able, but eventually he gathered up his books and the bag with his equipment and hurried out of the building, making for the old and impressive building that was the university.
The pavement and the steps outside the huge arched doorway were alive with students who were bustling about, hailing their friends and comparing notes. Combeferre swallowed nervously, winding his way through all the unfamiliar faces and climbing the stone stairs. He looked for anyone carrying a medical bag, or with medical textbooks, but he couldn't see anyone at all who answered that description.
This caused his heart to pound. Surely he wasn't late? He'd walked here as quickly as he could! What would the lecturers think of him if he was late on his first day?
He ran into the main hall in a panic, not stopping to take in the splendour around him,looking around wildly for any directions to his destination. He realised that a large sheet of paper with what appeared to be room numbers on it was pinned up in an alcove on the wall. Students were crowding around it and then hurrying away, confirming his suspicions. Swallowing, he made his way over to the crowd and began to squeeze to the front of it.
He scanned the list quickly, searching the neat sheet of numbers for the one he was looking for. When he finally found it, he wriggled out of the crowd and ran frantically down the corridor on the left.
Racing around a corner, he ran smack bang into someone coming in the other direction. Two armfuls of books fell to the ground with a clatter and Combeferre looked down at the floor in horror.
"Pardon!" he said in total mortification. "I'm so sorry! Please excuse me for being so clumsy. I thought I was running late and Iā¦" He stopped short at the sound of an easy laugh.
"Don't be so upset, my friend!" replied the young man who he had banged into, and Combeferre looked up to see a smiling face, framed by floppy brown hair. "First day?"
"Yes." Combeferre nodded, as they gathered up their books. "I'm studying medicine."
"Me too." replied the boy, looking at him with friendly green eyes that were full of laughter. "Don't worry, you're not late for the lecture. It does not start for ten minutes."
"That's a relief!" breathed Combeferre gratefully, leaning against the wall with a smile. "My name's Combeferre by the way. Etienne Combeferre."
"Pleased to meet you." replied his new friend with a grin, as he held out his hand. "I'm LeClair. Claude LeClair."
Like it? Hate it? Do you think it's worth continuing? PLEASE LET ME KNOW!
