Révolution du Cœur – Preparation The Funeral was tomorrow. Enjolras moved about the room checking that each man was armed and had enough ammunition. Thankfully almost every single member of Les Amis was trained to use a firearm; otherwise he was fairly certain their chance of success would be greatly diminished. Seeing the inspection done, he turned to speak with Joly.

"Are you going to carry any medical supplies with you tomorrow?" He kept his voice low, trying to keep any potential panic from ensuing. Joly shook his head.

"No. I have everything set up here though, in the kitchen. If there is to be a fight tomorrow I want my hands free to protect myself and the others." Enjolras nodded and clapped him on the back. He turned away, hoping to retreat to his room for a rest. However he ran headlong into another body.

He quickly caught and steadied the other body. Looking down, he was surprised to see Melodie standing before him. Her odd, golden eyes were fastened on his. She seemed to have frozen in place upon realizing who she had bumped into.

Enjolras suddenly realized how close they were standing, that his hands were still resting on her waist. Her body was extremely warm. Melodie unfroze without warning. She quirked her eyebrow at him and slowly stepped back, allowing his hands to drift across her shirt. He cleared his throat and looked expectantly at her.

"What can I do to help tomorrow?" Her voice was hopeful. Enjolras shook his head at her.

"You can't be there Melodie. It's no place for you." He said firmly. Melodie heaved a put upon sigh and glared at him.

"I'd thought you'd say that. However, I will remind you that I am a valuable asset. I'm the best message runner you have, other than Gavroche. You will need me tomorrow to run ahead and tell everyone that you all are coming back to the barricade. Also, I'm a good shot. I'm better than Joly and Courfeyrac and am on par with Marius. Telling me to not be there is sacrificing a weapon and only a fool would do that. Now, I've never considered you a fool Enjolras. Are you going to prove me wrong now?"

By the end of her little speech, Melodie had stepped closer to him and was watching him like a predator. Enjolras tried to be angry at her, but couldn't summon the proper amount of ire. He knew she was right, unfortunately. Staring hard at her, he made up his mind.

"Fine. You may come. You will start the rebellion with us, but when I tell you to leave and inform the neighborhood we're returning, you won't argue. You will come straight here and stay put. Understood?"

Melodie nodded. If she was surprised he had given in, she didn't show it. Instead she gave a quiet thank you and moved around him to exit the café. Sudden inspiration sparked in Enjolras's brain.

"Melodie!" He called after her. She stopped at the top of the stairs and pivoted to face him, eyebrow raised at his anxious tone. Enjolras calmed himself slightly.

"Dress smart tomorrow." He saw the understanding flash in her eyes. Another quick nod and she continued down the stairs. He walked toward the window, making sure she got out alright. Seeing her disappear around the corner, he decided to return to his room at last.

Once inside he shut the door and locked it. He stripped to his breeches and shirt sleeves and the flopped unceremoniously onto the bed. He let his gaze rest on the ceiling. His room was a plain place. A bed, a plain armoire, and desk took up most of the space. The desk was littered with papers and books. The armoire held more books and a small amount of clothing. The only things to attest to it being his personal room were the drawing of Notre Dame hanging in front of the desk that his sister had drawn on her last visit and his rarely used Bible below it.

Enjolras let his gaze wander over the rafters, searching for the words that kept him going day after day. Finally, he saw them.

Carved into the rafters was a quote by Cicero, left by some unknown occupant of the room.

"Freedom suppressed and again regained bites with deeper fangs than freedom never endangered."

When he had seen the quote two years ago, he had paid the first year's rent on the spot. Every day those words gave him strength. They defined the Revolution. They defined him.

Yet tonight, after his encounter with Melodie, something felt off. It felt like doubt was creeping in, like he doubted the Revolution. No, that wasn't true. The Revolution was the truth in his life. Maybe it was his reasons for inciting a revolution? No, he did this for France and her people. He did it for Les Amis and for himself. No, he doubted nothing. So if it wasn't doubt, what was this heavy feeling in his chest?

Melodie face suddenly came into his mind's eye. He felt the weight lift and his thoughts drifted. Odd, all he could think of now was how slim her waist was and how warm her body had been. Remembering the foreign feeling of her in his hands, Enjolras drifted to sleep.


Melodie made her way back to her apartment with a spring in her step

. She was going to help, actually physically help, with the Revolution! She had given Enjolras a piece of her mind and hadn't fudged it. Melodie slowed her steps.

Enjolras.

She could still remember how it felt standing there with him. She could still feel the way his hands had encircled her waist. His hands had been cool to the touch but Melodie was fairly certain if he hadn't been holding her so firmly, she would have melted into the floor. The fire coursing through her had been intoxicating. If only …

Melodie shook the errant wish from her head. Revolution now, feelings later. With that thought decisively placed in her head, she hurried to the apartment she shared with Jehan. Slipping in through the door, she found her roommate stooped over a small writing desk. She came up quietly behind him and looked over his shoulder.

Upon the page was the song he had written the night of Lamarque's death. She frowned at the page.

"I hope you're not rewriting that. I liked it the way it was." Her voice had made him jump and knock the ink bottle off the desk. She caught it deftly in one hand and placed it back within his reach. He glared up at her half-heartedly.

"No Melodie. I am simply putting it on better paper in hopes that when this is over I can get it published." He gently blew on the page and put it in a folder. Melodie watched him with an amused expression.

"You should probably clear that with Enjolras." Her voice was serious but she knew the humor was shining through her eyes. Jehan grinned at her.

"On my way as we speak." He said cheerfully. Before he could turn out the door, Melodie stopped him with her request.

"I need to borrow a coat and vest for tomorrow." Jehan eyed her carefully before nodding and grabbing the items from the closet. When he handed them to her, she noticed that there were two vests and two coats. She looked up to question him with her eyes.

"You'll see." Jehan nodded to the door to her room and left.

Melodie stared blankly at the space he'd left and let her mind wonder briefly. Jehan was a good man. They had become roommates last year after he'd overheard Éponine asking around for a place for her friend. He had said he's been intrigued because he'd heard Melodie quoting Socrates at Grantaire.

Melodie smile a little to herself. Yes, she and Jehan were good friends and good roommates due to their mutual love of classical literature. It helped that Melodie was a fairly decent cook and Jehan had no problem cleaning. Yes, she was very grateful for Jehan. With that thought in mind she went to her room.

The room was dark but Melodie could just make out the figure rocking back and forth on the floor. Setting the borrowed clothes on the chair, Melodie moved to kneel in front of the person.

It was Éponine and she didn't have a shirt on. At first Melodie worried Éponine had been attacked, but then she saw the lengths of binding fabric on the floor. Everything clicked into place.

"So you'll be joining us tomorrow then?" Melodie questioned gently. Éponine only nodded and continued rocking. Melodie took the time to look her friend over. She was even thinner than when she'd seen her three days ago. Melodie felt her heart break slightly at the sight of Éponine's shoulder blade sticking out of her skin.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked again. Éponine stilled her rocking and raised her head to look at Melodie.

"It's irony. She's the girl I used to torment as a child. Cosette. Pretty thing. Very kind. It's no wonder he's fallen in love with her. I'm nothing compared to her." Éponine's voice was sad and her great, dark eyes were filled with pain. Melodie moved to wrap her arms around her friend. Éponine shuddered but shed no tears.

"You listen to me Éponine Thénardier. You are a beautiful, wonderful young woman. If Marius doesn't see it, then he is a fool." Melodie made her voice firm and had to try not to rage against Marius for causing her friend so much pain.

"Yes, but I'm a fool for loving him." Éponine said quietly, staring listlessly into Melodie's gold eyes.

"Yes. We are both fools though. Fools together." Melodie heard Éponine sigh. She twisted around and handed the binding fabric to Éponine. The frail girl nodded and started to wrap her bust tightly. Once finished, she lent Éponine a shirt. It was a bit short seeing as Éponine was taller than her, but it wasn't noticeable once she had put on Jehan's borrowed vest and coat. Seeing her friend dressed, Melodie donned her own clothes. Hand-made tan breeches, simple shirt, Jehan's dark brown vest and forest green coat. She was almost ready. She took a grey cap off the top of the bookshelf and placed it on her head.

Taking Éponine by the hand, they turned to look at themselves in the mirror. With their hair tucked up and their bosoms flattened, no one would take them for anything other than young men. Well anyone but Enjolras in Melodie's case. Nodding to the mirror, she steered them to the bed.

They both collapsed on top of it and Éponine fell asleep immediately. Melodie watched her friend's sleep with care. Éponine didn't deserve the life she led. She was the best friend Melodie ever had and she despaired that she couldn't do anything for her.

Sleep slowly clawed its way into her brain. Before surrendering to her dreams, Melodie sent up a silent prayer that when this was over, they'd all have whole bodies and healed hearts.