Over 100 followers! YAY! Thats awesome! Only four chapters, and I've already got that many, whoopie! You guys are the best, you're awesome reviews are too sweet, and helpful too! I've got to say I'm loving this story, and I'm writing up a storm whenever I get the chance! But in honor of the 100 followers mark, I'm going to reply to some of my favorite reviews (I read every one!)
Sophie: No, I don't believe I'm you, but if you like les mis and read my story, you can be as awesome as me! (Sort of) ;) Haha, thanks, you're sweet and I agree with your comment about Jonas, seriously, wtf were they thinking?
Guest (I don't know who you are, but you said something about Azelma): thanks, I love her! Haha I guess, and stay tuned.
AAHILOVEYOU: I love you too :)
BellePheonix: Thank You! And welcome! If you're looking for some good stories to read, "Master of the House" by WonderfulCaricature is a favorite!
AnnyP: first reviewer, and never misses an update!
Ok, long a/n over, now for a nice juicy chapter!
A few days later...
"Oh, Azelma," Nicolas wined, wiping his runny nose on his sleeve, "Must I stay inside? I want to go with Gavroche and Pierre."
"Yes, Nicolas," Azelma said, putting the newly washed dished back into the cupboard, "You have a cold, the last thing we need now that Eponine is finally rid of her bandages is for you to get sick."
"Please sœur?" Nicolas begged, "Its so horribly boring stuck in the flat all day, and it's so beautiful out!" Azelma rolled her eyes.
"It's raining."
"Better than here," Nicolas grumbled.
"Thats enough," Azelma scolded, "You mind your manners, lest I have you sit in the corner!"
"Alright, I'm sorry," Nicolas widened his green eyes, making them the size of saucers and effectively melting his sister, "forgive me?"
"Oh, you infernal little boy," Azelma said, kissing his forehead and ruffling his hair, "You and your brothers will be the death of me, I know it." Nicolas smiled, grabbing her hands and spinning her.
"Let's play!" Nicolas said, pulling her from the kitchen to the sitting room, jumping around her excitedly, "Lets play!" Azelma laughed, holding his hands firmly and spinning him around, so fast that the little boy was nearly lifted off his feet. Azelma recalled a song from her childhood, she and Eponine used to sing it as they did this very activity, taunting the young Cosette as she looked on.
Alouette, gentille alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai.
Azelma repeated the simple phrase over again, she couldn't remember the rest of the song. Nicolas ether didn't know or didn't care, he skipped around his sister happily, his laughter filling the usually quiet flat. Suddenly it ceased, Nicolas stopped spinning, looking past Azelma to the door of the flat. Azelma looked round, smirking when she discovered the identity of the surprise visitor.
"Well well, look who it is," Azelma said, putting her arm around Nicolas, "Nicolas, meet the little lark herself."
"Who are you?" Nicolas asked the figure standing apprehensively in the doorway.
"I'm called Cosette," She said, her face pale as she observed Azelma's cocky persona, "And I remember that song."
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Eponine, it's not a very common name, Cosette said to herself, nervously wringing her handkerchief, but it can't be her, Marius said she was poor, and the little girl had been rich. She eyed her appearance yet again in the mirror on her wall. She was wearing the simplest dress she owned, and her long golden hair was pulled up into a tight bun. She hoped she wouldn't seem too fine, from what Marius had told her, this girl had run into a bit of luck recently, but the last thing Cosette wanted to do was dress inappropriately. She switched into another bonnet, selecting for the fifth time another cloak to wear.
What's the matter with you, Cosette? She asked herself as she followed Toussaint from her bedroom to the awaiting carriage, why must you always over-think everything? Don't ruin this for yourself, it took ages to convince Papa to let you go.
It was true, Cosette's father had not wanted her to leave their home, he was still at a loss as to how she and Marius became acquainted. Cosette wasn't one to disobey instructions, she never would have stole away without his knowledge. Either way, he liked the boy, so he allowed the matter to drop. But he was unsure of Cosette spending time with someone he had never met. Little did she know that it was a lucky thing that Marius forgot to mention a surname, or Jean Valjean would never have allowed it.
Cosette spent the remainder of the ride nervously fussing over both her appearance and manner. Living in practical seclusion with her father in the convent for most of her life had made her very reserved, so to say she was apprehensive about this meeting was an understatement.
They pulled up to a nice looking apartment building in a well-off neighborhood in Paris. Not particularly wealthy, but certainly not the slums. After being reminded by Toussaint once again that she would return for her later that evening,Cosette entered the building, hurrying to avoid the rain coming down in torrents. She lowly climbed the stairs to Enjolras' flat, the handkerchief had made another appearance, folding and refolding between Cosette's dainty fingers. She almost toppled over in shock when she heard a high voice singing an all too familiar song.
Alouette, gentille alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai.
Cosette followed the sound of the voice, mingled with a child's laughter, to where it wafted from an open door. The door to the address Marius had told her. There she saw a thin young girl dancing with a dark haired little boy. The little boy was laughing, displaying deep dimples in his rosy cheeks; the vision of happiness, albeit a runny noise. The girl spun him round the room, singing the little ditty. The child caught sight of Cosette and stopped laughing, alerting the girl to Cosette's presence. Cosette gasped in surprise as she spun to face her, the girls face was the same, no amount of malnourishment could cloud her cocky, almost mocking smirk that played across her features as she recognized Cosette. She had acquired a sharp tongue and biting personality at the tender age of four, and it was still there.
It was Azelma.
XXXXXXXX
"Finally," Eponine sighed to herself as she slipped into the hot water, "free of those horrible bandages." The most irritating thing about her injuries had been the inability to move, closely followed by Joly forbidding she take a proper bath, less she ruin her stitches. She must admit, he was right. Hissing as her cut in the shoulder came into contact with the water, Eponine knew it would have been worse when she still had the stitches, the cut was nearly healed, but Joly had told her she'd have the scar forever. No matter, it's just one more mark left on her skin, courtesy of her father. Or sometimes Montparnasse.
Either way, it felt heavenly to completely wash the years worth of grime from her body, using the lovely smelling soaps and shampoos Annette had lent them.
Eponine leaned back, closing her eyes and sighing contently. It was lovely to have a moments peace, between those infernal schoolboys checking in on her every hour, and the newly reunited members of her family, she had't had much peace and quiet. Not that she truly minded, the schoolboys meant well, and she found that even in knowing them for only a short span of time, she loved Pierre and Nicolas. They and Gavroche were wreaking havoc all over Paris, no doubt little Nicolas was giving Azelma grief at this moment, after Eponine had forbidden him from going out in the rain due to his cold. Speaking of which, Eponine had better finish up and help her, Azelma wasn't always the most maternal person, to put it kindly.
She exited the bath, shivering as her wet skin hit the air, rushing to dry with one of the soft white towels. She dressed in an old dress of Annette's, very simple and much less vibrant than the two articles she had purchased (more like been forced upon) several days back, but it was finer than anything Eponine had worn previously. And it was warm enough, that's all she really cared much about. Now for the real conflict, her hair.
Eponine's hair, by definition, was a dark brown. Oftentimes it appeared more of a raven color, due to the tendency of the owner to go out in the night, and get caught in a downpour. It was of medium length reaching passed her bony shoulders, and had the makings to be quite flattering to Eponine's dark eyes and tan complexion. However lack of keeping over all of her adolescent life left it limp, dirty, and very, very tangled. The various shampoos and soaps from the bath had taken care of the dirt, her hair was now clean, and it smelled nice. However it wasn't going to look like Annette's, shiny, soft, and perfectly tamed, after only one bath.
Sighing, Eponine picked up the hairbrush set on the sink and began her attempt at untangling the wild knots deeply set in her dark waves. The attempt was less than satisfactory, but after a quarter of an hour pulling, tugging, and combing her mane, she managed to make it somewhat presentable. Maybe with time she could possibly be considered beautiful, in an unconventional way. Maybe then Monsieur Marius would look her way.
Eponine stepped into the hallway to be greeted with Azelma's voice. She hadn't sung like that, high and clear, no form of mockery, in a long time. it made Eponine smile. She heard Nicolas' young laugh mingled with her little sister's singing. She believed there to be no sound more pleasant in all the world. Eponine slowly made her way down the narrow hallway from the lavatory to the sitting room, careful not to make any noise less she interrupt the picturesque scene. She stopped before she rounded the corner, content to stand and listen to her siblings all day. Suddenly the lovely sound ceased, and Azelma's voice could be heard. Dripping with its usual ridicule.
"Well well, look who it is. Nicolas, meet the little lark herself."
"Who are you?" That was clearly Nicolas, displaying typical childlike curiosity.
"I'm called Cosette. And I remember that song." She had been expecting it, but the voice still shocked Eponine, who at these words, turned the corner and joined her siblings and the beautiful blonde young woman in the doorway.
The Lark had arrived.
XXXXXXXX
"Maman!" Nicolas exclaimed, running into Eponine's awaiting arms to be lifted into her embrace, "This is Cosette! She's very pretty." Nicolas paused for a moment before cupping his hands round his mouth to whisper in Eponine's ear, "But your more prettier than her."
Eponine smiled at him, if only Monsieur Marius thought as you do. She turned her dark eyed gaze from the child to the young woman in the doorway. She looked very uncomfortable, still looking uneasily at Azelma, who's facial expression hadn't changed.
"Are you going to come it?" Eponine asked, "You're welcome to stand in the hallway, but it's bound to be more comfortable in here." Cosette turned pink, stepping over the threshold into the warm sitting room, bringing her handkerchief from her pocket and wringing it between her fingers nervously. Eponine rolled her eyes at her awkwardness,
"You may sit down," She said, gesturing with her head to one of the armchairs, "and Azelma will make us some tea, won't you, 'Zelma." Azelma gave her sister a look that said quite plainly that she did not want to make them tea, but moved to enter the kitchen all the same.
"Nicolas, come and help me," She called, "leave 'Ponine to the Lark." Nicolas squirmed to be put down, skipping after Azelma into the kitchen, wiping his nose on his sleeve as he went.
Dark eyes met light, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the two, each remembering a time long ago, filled with joy and laughter for one, and fear and sorrow for another.
"Did you ever give me a second thought?" Cosette asked, surprised herself by the question. It was rather odd. Eponine thought for a moment,
"No," Eponine admitted, "I didn't give you a second glance after you left."
"Why?" Cosette asked, "Why were you so terrible to me?"
"I was only a child," Eponine said, looking out the window, "I was following the example set by my parents."
"You were terrible to me," Cosette said, the blush rising as her temper did, "I meant less than nothing to you!"
"Before you judge me," Eponine said, her dark eyes flashing angrily, "Let me ask you, did you ever give me a second thought after you were swept away?" These words stunned Cosette into silence. She hadn't thought about the dark haired little girl, with the bright eyes, for one moment after her Papa took her away.
"No," Cosette confessed, "I didn't."
"Exactly," Eponine said, "Don't pretend as if you know me, you haven't the faintest idea who I am. I'm no longer a cherubic little girl with a blue bonnet."
"And I am no longer a sad little girl with ever present tears in her eyes," Cosette replied. A silence settled upon them again as each young woman found an intense interest at the state of their fingernails.
"I am sorry," Eponine said quietly, "You didn't deserve the way I treated you." She said it so softly that Cosette was unsure of whether or not she heard her correctly, or if she was imagining things, but a glance at her acquaintance's tan face told her she had, and that it had been a heartfelt apology.
"I forgive you," Cosette replied, Eponine was now convinced that she was incapable of speaking above a whisper, "You were just a child then."
Looking back on the complete lives of the two women, it could easily be said that this exchange was a turning point in both their lives. It's not hard to argue, later in life both women would acknowledge the other as a friend, and close one's at that. Such a relationship did not come about in a day, but that first meeting, something changed. Whether it be a sense of resolve on Cosette's part, or a feeling of redemption from Eponine's, that conversation set in motion the wheels of the journey that each would take. Both would be different, each with it's own triumph and conflicts, yet interwoven and dependent on each other. Their lives were about to begin, whether they be prepared or not.
Oh my goodness, I didn't think this would take so long! And it's a little short, but very important. Life got in the way, I apologize. Next chapter I hope to divulge more into Eponine and Azelma's past, as well as the Thenardier boys. Plus I want to return to the revolutionary boys, particularly Enjy and Grantaire. (Remember when I said there would be a little A/G? That starts next chapter) Keep up the reviews, they make my day, and don't be scared to shoot me a PM for any reason, I can't bite you through a computer. (Well I suppose I could try, but it won't really work out.) Until next time!