A/N: Sorry for the delay! I started classes again and then I sustained a concussion and was out of commission for a week.
Éponine awoke early the next day in anticipation for her walk with Marius in the Luxembourg Gardens. She tried her best to make herself look presentable. Prouvaire prepared a bath for her and then left to find them some breakfast. Éponine climbed in and took a moment to just relax in the warm water before beginning to bathe. She felt her tensed shoulders loosen as she inhaled the fragrant, flowery soap, and she began to attempt to detangle her hair using her fingers. It took a bit of doing, but slowly she was able to remove most of the knots in her thick tresses. This done, she leaned back and sank further down into the water.
Today she would tell him. She would finally tell Marius everything: how she felt about him, that night back in the Gorbeau House, and the baby. The baby... She hoped he wouldn't panic too much, but she was fairly certain that he would panic. She couldn't really blame him either; it was a bit of a bombshell. She just hoped he would understand why she hadn't told him earlier. She hoped he would feel the same way as she felt. A small voice in the back of her head made her wonder whether he really could love her. After all she had experienced in life, all she had done and the lowliness to which she had on occasion stooped... Could anyone love her? Was she worthy of love? Worthy of Marius's? But surely, she told herself, if anyone could possibly love me, it would be him. Marius had never looked down on her, had never considered her to be a lesser being due to her parentage or social class. She had only ever known him to exemplify kindness in a cruel and unforgiving world. She tried to reassure herself that they had had moments, apart from their drunken night of passion. Hadn't Prouvaire told her of his dedication to her when she was sick? Couldn't that be love? She so wanted to believe that it could be, yet she couldn't help feeling nervous. What if he rejected her?
"No," she said aloud. If I think that way, I'll never summon the courage to tell him, she thought. I have to believe that he could love me. I need to have faith in love. Then she scoffed at herself. Faith. It had never done her much good in the past. Had faith saved her parents from the mounting bills and debts in Montfermeil? Had faith saved her family from being turned out onto the streets? Had faith stopped her mother from selling her youngest brothers? Try though she might, she couldn't ease the heavy doubt gathering in the pit of her stomach, weighing her down like a heavy boulder. She couldn't tell him. What if it changed everything? What if it ended a perfectly good friendship?
"Oh, god. I need to stop this..." She buried her face in her hands. I need to tell him. I can't just live life never knowing. If I never tell him, then eventually I will lose him. If I tell him... If there's even the slightest chance he'll feel the same way...
Éponine stood, holding onto the side of the tub for support. She carefully got out and began to dry herself with the towel Jehan had left. She had just wrapped it around herself when Jehan returned and Éponine caught a whiff of fresh bread. He set a paper bag down on the table and then, shielding his eyes out of respect for her modesty, he held out a medium-sized white box with a pale blue ribbon.
"What's this?" Éponine asked him, taking the box.
"A gift. Please, open it."
A smile tugged at her lips as she opened the box. Then she gasped and nearly dropped it.
"O-Oh, Jehan! For me?"
Prouvaire smiled. "Yes, for you. Go put it on."
Éponine hurried into the bedroom and closed the door. She set the opened box down on the bed and gingerly pulled out its contents. It was certainly the loveliest thing she now owned: a long, cinched dress with both brown and deep blue layers, with gigot sleeves and a high neckline. It wasn't one of those frilly dresses that the bourgeoise girls liked to wear, which Éponine fully appreciated. Prouvaire must have recognised that that wasn't her style. This was a little more reserved, more serious, but without taking away her youth.
She quickly changed into it and moved to look at herself in the mirror. She almost didn't recognise herself: cleaner than she'd been in years, in a nicer dress than she'd ever hoped to own, and smiling. Really and truly smiling. Confidence had begun to sate the nagging worry of refusal.
She liked that the puffiness of the skirt, though reduced by her lack of a hoop skirt, helped to hide her baby bump.
When she left the bedroom, Prouvaire clapped his hands together at the sight of her.
"You look exquisite!" He exclaimed. "Simply beautiful. Marius is a lucky man."
Éponine made her way over to him and put her arms around him. "Thank you, Jehan. For the dress, for taking care of me, for... for being my friend. For everything." And she kissed his cheek, which made him blush.
"You're very welcome, Éponine," he told her. "I'm always happy to help a friend. Now, come sit with me. Let's have a bite to eat before Monsieur Marius whisks you away."
Marius arrived a couple hours later. When he knocked on the door, Éponine jumped to her feet and instantly regretted it as the rush of dizziness swept over her. She steadied herself on the table as Prouvaire went to open the door. When Marius stepped inside, it took her every ounce of restraint not to run right over to him. She slowly made her way over to him, a smile spreading across her face at the look of delighted surprise on his face as he took in her appearance.
"Éponine, you look lovely," he told her. She felt a blush rise in her cheeks. He offered her an arm, which she gladly and readily took. "Shall we?" He asked her.
"Let's," she replied, and they were on their way.
It was certainly getting warmer outside as March wore on and signs of Spring's imminent arrival were everywhere. The birds were chirping happily and the sunlight poured onto the streets of Paris, lighting everything in its path. Trees were beginning to form budding leaves and the grass was once again green. Éponine knew that the Luxembourg Gardens must be perfectly picturesque on such a fine day.
As they walked, they chatted jovially. Marius told her about some mishaps he'd had at the university, and how Lesgles had been kicked out of their law class for covering for him during an absence. Marius assured her, however, that Lesgles could not care less and had admitted to Marius that he'd never really wanted to be a lawyer.
"Éponine," he said, suddenly serious, "I wanted to ask you... Just how bad was it? O-On the streets, I mean."
Éponine faltered for a second. "Mostly," she started, "mostly it was cold and... lonely. For the first few weeks, I was able to somewhat sustain myself by stealing, but... it just kept getting colder and... and it was hard to sleep because it was so cold. But the less I slept, the less energy I had and then it became impossible to steal if I didn't want to get caught. I nearly was, about a month in. I barely escaped; I hid in a snow bank. Then it got harder. Hunger pains are just... It's hard to even explain. I was occasionally able to get scraps. Things people had dropped or thrown out... But it wasn't enough and I felt my body giving up. It eventually was too hard to even stand up and I just lay there until Jehan found me."
"Oh, 'Ponine... I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you needed me. I... I should have helped you. I promised you I would." He hung his head dejectedly. They had now entered the gardens.
"Marius, it's not your fault. You didn't know how bad things were."
"I'm a terrible friend. I don't understand how you could ever forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive. Marius, you're the best friend I ever could have asked for. I don't even know if I deserve you. You're kind and warm, and... and when I'm with you, I feel... I feel like all the darkness in the world is sucked away and only light remains. Marius, you..." She struggled to find the words. She stared at her feet as she continued forward. "You are everything that is right with the world. You make me forget the sad realities of life. I... What I'm trying to say is... Marius, I lo—" As she raised her eyes to look at him as she made her confession, she suddenly stopped. Marius was no longer beside her; he had stopped walking a little ways back. She turned to see him staring off and made her way back to him, a quizzical expression on her face. "Marius?"
She followed his gaze. Sitting on a park bench was Monsieur Leblanc and next to him... No... It couldn't be... Mademoiselle Lenoire had transformed from an ugly duckling into a majestic swan. Sitting there was a girl of rapturous beauty, with her long chocolatey brown hair hanging in perfect ringlets. Her skin was milky and blemish free, and she wore a pale pink dress with puffed sleeves in the latest fashion, complete with a white bonnet. It was she who had captured Marius's gaze and Éponine recognised the look on his face. It was mirrored on the girl's face, as her large lapis lazuli eyes locked onto Marius's.
"That girl..." He breathed. Éponine felt her world crashing down around her. That look... The way she had often dreamed he would look at her... It was unmistakable.
Then suddenly, pain. Sharp and thrusting pain in her stomach, and Éponine knew she had just experience the baby kicking for her first time. She couldn't stop the cry that fell from her lips, nor could she stop her hand from moving to her stomach.
The cry drew Marius's attention back to Éponine. "'Ponine?" He asked concernedly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"
"I-I... The... The baby kicked..." She said quietly.
"O-Oh!" His eyes lit up. "Was that the first time? Can I feel?"
"Please don't," she whispered as he reached his hand out. He quickly withdrew it.
"Sorry," he said hastily. "I... I forgot myself. I know you have doubts about all this..."
"It's... It's fine."
He returned his gaze to the bench, but instead saw the retreating forms of the girl and her father as they left the Luxembourg Gardens. He started towards it, and Éponine just stood there numbly. He quickly came running back, waving something white in his hand.
"Her handkerchief," he told her. "U. F... It must be her initials. U. F... Ursule! That must be her name."
Éponine blinked and looked at him. "What?"
"U. F. Ursule... something."
Despite the consuming pain she felt tearing at her chest, she asked, "Why Ursule?"
"It's the only girls' name that begins with a U."
But it was a different name that had come to Éponine's mind. Old memories now came flooding back... The girl looked so familiar. Surely, it couldn't be... Those eyes that had once been so full of tears...
"Éponine, can you... can you find her for me?"
"I... You want me to..."
"Please, 'Ponine," he begged, and she could hear the desperation in his voice. "I have to meet her. I... I have never felt like this before. I... I'll do anything..."
Éponine couldn't bring herself to answer, so she gave a small nod. He grasped her hand and she felt the coolness of metal press into her skin. She let the coins drop to the ground. "I don't want your money..." she said quietly, but he was staring off in the direction the girl and her father had gone, and didn't seem to hear her.
Marius had walked Éponine back to the building in which Prouvaire lived, but Éponine had insisted on saying goodbye outside, despite his offer to walk her in. He left and, rather than going inside, Éponine started walking. She wasn't sure of where she was going until she arrived at the apothecary. It seemed her feet had taken her there of their own accord, but she knew all the same it was where she wanted to be. She headed inside and started looking. She knew she would recognise it when she saw it. Then... There it was: diachylon. She had heard other poor women speak of this. She took it in her hands and just stared at it for several minutes. She stole a glance at the owner of the apothecary. He was preoccupied; he wouldn't notice if she downed it real quick... She opened the bottle.
Then she felt a hand on her shoulder and she jumped. She turned around.
"Oh. Combeferre. It's you," she said quietly. He was staring at the bottle in her hands.
"Do you know what that is?" He asked her.
"It'll end it," she said quietly. "It'll make it go away."
"It could kill you in the process," he told her. "It's poison."
"I don't care," she whispered. "I don't care; I want to die." Hot tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Éponine, what has happened?"
"He... H-He..." She choked out. "He'll never love me... I... I see that now..."
"Éponine, what...?"
"I... I s-saw the way he looked at her... I... I was going to tell him everything about me and our baby and... and he... h-he... I-I think he loves her..."
"You..." Then understanding flickered in his eyes. "You love Marius. This is his baby."
She nodded slowly, tears dripping down her chin. "He doesn't love me. He... He loves her. And I... I am nothing." In a swift motion, she made as though to down the contents of the bottle, but Combeferre was faster and knocked it from her hand. It shattered on the floor. Éponine fell to her knees and Combeferre knelt down next to her. "Éponine, this is not the solution. You can't just throw your life away because of a man. Live for yourself, not for him."
"He's all I have... Please... I just want to die..." She sobbed. "Just... Just let me die... Please let this pain end..."
Combeferre sighed softly and pulled her into his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder and cried.