Révolution du Cœur - Recovery
A soft knock sounded from across the room. Enjolras looked up to see Melodie in the doorway, a cane clutched in her hands. She looked slightly apprehensive and seemed to be prepared to turn away. He had never seen her nervous before and the fact that she felt comfortable enough to show him this side of her made is heart swell.
"Come in." He said as he motioned her into the room. Relief spread across her features and she smiled as she came to stand beside the bed. Wordlessly she held out the cane for him to inspect. He held it gingerly and marveled at the simple beauty of it.
The cane was a deep rich mahogany. There was a simple scroll work carving near the top. The pommel was made of ivory and a small etching of France had been carved into the top.
"Where did this come from?" He looked up at her in wonder. Melodie smiled sheepishly at him and shrugged a little.
"It's Fabien's. My sister got it for him on their first anniversary, but he doesn't use it."
"Why ever not?" Enjolras asked blankly. Melodie grinned at him.
"Because he says it makes him feel old. I guess it serves as a reminder that he's nearly fifteen years older than Arielle."
Enjolras nodded in contemplation. He was lost in thought until he felt her fingers gently brush at his temple. Unconsciously he leaned into her touch. Looking up after he realized what he was doing, he caught her soft smile.
"What are you thinking Capitaine?" She murmured.
"I've never asked how old you are. It never occurred to me actually. I was so caught up in everything …" He trailed off and looked up at her. There was no censure on her face, just that soft smile.
"Twenty. At least for another four months …" She was still smiling but he could tell she was afraid of his reaction. He couldn't help but gape at her though.
"I always thought you were –"
"Older?" She asked curiously.
Enjolras shook his head at her.
"No. I thought you were younger. More around my sister's age."
It was Melodie's turn to gape.
"You have a sister?" Her expression was stunned.
"Yes and a mother and a father. Did you think I sprang up from the ground?" He returned dryly. Melodie blushed and shrugged.
"No, I just never really thought about it. You've just always been … by yourself." She looked like she wanted to ask him more questions and for the first time in his life, he wasn't against answering them.
"Please, sit." He patted the open spot on the bed next to him. She didn't hesitate this time as she settled next to him. It was a highly inappropriate situation for them to be in, but watching her arrange her green skirts around her legs kept him from caring.
"I'm giving you free reign. Ask me anything that you want," She started to grin mischievously as soon as the words left his mouth. "Within reason!" He emphasized.
Melodie became very still then. Her eyes were rooted to his and she was biting her lip in concentration. He had never seen her so serious before. After what felt like forever, her face relaxed. She pivoted around on the bed so she was facing him and drew her knees up to her chest. She rested her chin on them and smiled softly at him again.
"Tell me about your sister."
He smiled at the topic and settled back against the head board.
"Her name is Brigitte. She's seventeen and a little hellion. Or at least she was the last time I saw her. She doesn't like to pay attention during Mass and loves to roam the hills outside of town. She's actually a very good artist. I bought her a sketch book last year and she filled it in a month. She's the one piece of my past that I actually miss."
Melodie was smiling at his description.
"You'd like her." He said without thought. It only caused her smile to widen and he couldn't regret his rash words.
"What about your parents? What are they like?"
Enjolras felt his jaw stiffen and he fisted the bed covers. The question was an innocent one but it still put him on edge. Melodie noticed and pried his fist back open. She said nothing but just looked at him steadily. He cleared his throat gruffly.
"They're social climbers. Father was a major in the army and mother has always been the faithful, obedient wife. They … they aren't like me. They don't care for anyone that can't help them rise in standing."
Melodie nodded her understand and squeezed his hand.
"I left home for Paris when I was fifteen because Father wanted me to follow in his footsteps. We all know how that turned out." He shot her a wan smile which she returned.
"They disowned me last year after the protest at the palace. One of Father's old brethren recognized me. They don't speak to me but Brigitte sneaks out of town every year to visit me on my birthday –"
"When is it?" She suddenly demanded. Her gaze was so focused on him that he couldn't process her question.
"What?" He asked lamely.
"When is your birthday?" Her voice was impatient and her fingers were twitching. He shook his head to clear the fuzziness her bright gaze had brought on.
Had she always been this distracting?
"January. January 16th."
"Then I have enough time."
He wasn't sure he understood her properly so he prodded.
"Time for what?" He asked slowly. Melodie rolled her expressive gold eyes at his apparent lack of understanding.
"To craft you a birthday present Capitaine!" He frowned at her even though the thought of such a thing warmed something in his chest.
"I haven't received birthday presents in almost five years Melodie." That didn't change the fact that he had desperately hoped for one once he reached his majority all those years ago …
Melodie waved his comment off with an airy hand.
"That's because you didn't know me. You'll be getting one this year, so get used to the idea." She grinned cheekily at him and he couldn't help but laugh.
"As you wish mademoiselle. I can't imagine trying to stop you once you set your mind to something." They both laughed for a few minutes before she was watching him again.
"How old are you Enjolras?" she seemed fearful of the answer to his surprise.
"I'll be twenty-seven in January." He watched her just as carefully as she processed the information. A question seemed to be forming behind her eyes, but she was carefully not meeting his gaze. He reached out and tilted her chin up so he could examine her expression. It was guarded and uncertain.
"Ask me Melodie. I don't want any more secrets between us." She flinched at the implication in his words.
"Have you ever been in love?" She blurted out. Her face turned an enchanting shade of rose in embarrassment, but he couldn't help but smile.
"No. I'm afraid I've only ever know love for family and love for country." He reached out again and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. It felt like gold silk in his fingers and he had to fight down the urge to run his fingers through it completely. She had worn it down today, not tied back with the ribbon her sister seemed to favor. He liked it better this way.
"Do you ever want to be? In love I mean." The question was so softly spoken he had almost missed it. He looked at her and saw the burning emotion back in her eyes and answered without hesitation.
"Yes."
He expected her to smile. Or at least look relieved. Instead she surprised him again by simply nodding and resting her chin back on her knees.
Her eyes were still burning with that unidentified emotion though.
"Who is you favorite author?" He stared perplexedly at her as he tried to keep up with her change of topics.
"Montesquieu." He answered after a minute.
And with that she was firing off random questions.
Where had he been able to travel?
What was his favorite wine?
Who was his favorite teacher at the Academy?
He answered her questions for well over an hour. It felt good, if he was honest with himself, that someone was so generally interested in him and not trying to find his faults. He found himself laughing and telling Melodie about his childhood antics. He had her gasping for breath after telling her about Widow Parfait's pet Billy goat.
They were careful to keep the topics away from memories of their departed friends and everything they had loss. As far as he could tell she was trying to make him think of a happy future.
It was working.
At last her questions ceased and she was nodding to the cane at his side.
"Are you ready?"
"I think so." He tried to keep the hesitation from his voice but knew she caught it all the same.
She slipped off the bed and stepped back to give him room. He slowly disentangled himself from the sheets and carefully swung his legs over the bed so he was seated on the edge, facing her. She wordlessly held out her arms. He silently thanked her and grasped her forearms for support, trying not to bruise her as he had before.
His legs wobbled unforgivingly for a long time, but she never let go. She continued to steady him, her eyes burning the entire time.
At last he felt stable and smiled at her.
"I think I'm ready." She nodded and let go of one of his hands to reach for the cane. Once it was settled in his grasp, she gave him a once over. She seemed to approve of what she saw because she was smiling again.
She gently squeezed his hand and made sure he was looking at her. To not look at her seemed impossible. She looked like she was lit with some inner fire, as if determination and hope were seeping from every pore.
He had the oddest feeling that this was how she saw him when he was speaking to the crowds.
"We move forward together." She stated firmly. He didn't say anything at first, but drew her to his good side. He looked down into her blazing gold eyes and felt his chest expand with hope and that other curious emotion that seemed to crop up whenever she was around.
"Together." He stated just as firmly.
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Their progress was slow going. The first three days were simply Melodie walking at Enjolras's side, up and down the hallway. Once Enjolras felt strong enough, Melodie would walk in front of him going backwards to track his progress. He was making leaps and bounds in his recovery and never once complained.
During their short treks she would keep up an endless supply of chatter. They talked about books, places they wanted to visit, and beliefs that had led them to the revolution. Melodie was grateful that Enjolras didn't question her about the past just yet, but she knew that as soon as the physician cleared him, he would be looking for answers.
She took her time away from him to prepare her speech and to practice containing her emotions.
What surprised her at this point was how comfortable Enjolras was touching her. He didn't hesitate to take her hand or to brush her curls out of her eyes. His touches had even begun to linger longer than was appropriate in society's eyes.
It was a good thing she didn't give a damn about society, because she craved each touch with the same burning desire that she had always associated with him.
On the fifth day though, things changed.
They had been walking again, her in front and him following. Without warning, her heel caught the edge of her gown and she began to tumble backwards. She never hit the floor though.
Enjolras had thrown the cane aside and his arms had caught her. He had slowly drawn her up flush with his own body. Melodie felt the flames of desire whipping out and around them, and for the first time she had the feeling Enjolras felt them too.
Their faces had been inches apart and his eyes had been fastened on her lips. She hadn't dared say anything for fear he might set her aside. Instead she had relaxed her body and let her breathing even out. Eventually he had looked down into her eyes and seemed to be trying to formulate and sentence.
"I … I think it would be best if Phillippe took your place tomorrow when I try to master the stairs." His voice had taken on a rough edge that she found fascinating, but she frowned all the same.
"Why's that?" She tried to focus on him, but the feeling of his hands splayed on her back was very distracting!
"Because if I happen to fall on the stairs, you would try to catch me and I would more than likely crush you. I don't want to hurt you." His expression and voice had gentled. There was an almost tender look in his eyes.
"As you wish Capitaine." She smiled at him softly and smoothed the front of his shirt. He sucked in a sharp breath at her touch and for the briefest moment drew her closer. She subconsciously tilted her face up. When she felt his breath on her lips, they both froze.
"I … I think perhaps you should rest. Your arm is only just out of the sling and you've been working hard all day."
Enjolras's eyes were stormier than she'd ever seen them and he seemed to be having an internal debate. Eventually he had sighed.
"Yes, you're probably right." He had whispered against her lips. The action caused her to shiver with need, which caused his eyes to darken further. He finally released her and they had fled to their separate quarters.
That had been two days ago.
Since then he had been working on going up and down the stairs. She had stayed out of the way, but visited him each night to check in on him. They're conversation had been stilted and they hadn't reached out for each other. The distance was slowly breaking her and she had taken to haunting the library.
It was there that he found her on the seventh day.
"What are you reading?" Enjolras's quiet voice seemed to float over to her, but she still jumped slightly. She frowned at him for sneaking up on her but he offered no apology. His eyes were surprisingly warm on her face though.
She held up the volume she had been pursuing for the past hour. He raised an eyebrow at the name embossed on the cover.
"Seneca? Isn't that a bit dark, even for you?"
She shook her head at him and smiled slightly.
"No, not really. He's always been a favorite of mine, but until you quoted him a while ago, I hadn't read any of his work for some time."
"Ah." Was Enjolras's only rejoinder.
"Is everything alright?" She asked him hesitantly. He nodded and motioned her to follow him. Still uncertain of his motives, she followed slowly till they reached the main foyer.
"Monsieur Medican is here and I thought you'd like to attend his examination of me." Enjolras motioned to the short man before them. Melodie nodded and successfully kept the grimace off her face at the sight of the physician.
"Proceed!" The man commanded. Melodie gritted her teeth and tried to keep calm, but Enjolras threw her a subtle wink. The action made her heart flutter and she followed the two men.
When they reached the stairs she was proud to note that Enjolras didn't hesitate and mounted them swiftly. He was able to walk to his bedroom with little to no assistance from the cane. When they entered the room, he shrugged off his coat and sat on the bed. He raised an eyebrow at her again and she spun around swiftly, cheeks flaming as she heard the tell-tale sounds of his trousers hitting the floor
The physician examined him in silence as Melodie rocked back and forth on her heels. Eventually she felt a soft tug on her skirts. She cautiously looked over her shoulder into Enjolras's smiling face. She breathed a sigh of relief at seeing him fully clothed.
Not taking time to think, she sat next to him on the bed and reached for his hand. It was their first contact in days and she suppressed the sigh of contentment that threatened to escape. The physician made a few notes in his journal and then smiled smugly at them.
"A job well done. You're well on the mend and should not have to use that cane at all in a month's time. Keep it handy for now. The shoulder and abdomen wounds are also almost completely healed. Give them another few days and you shouldn't feel any more pain. Now, who is footing the bill?"
Melodie opened her mouth to retort at him but Fabien suddenly entered the room.
"I will be monsieur. If you'll follow me." Fabien quickly left the room and the physician trotted out behind them without a by-your-leave.
Melodie glared after him until Enjolras squeezed her hand. Her gaze flickered to him. His expression was somber and a trifle hard.
"Walk with me in the garden?" His tone was polite, but she heard the underlying command there. She swallowed hard, fighting down the sudden panic that flooded her body.
She knew what was coming.
It was time to reveal her shame.
