Conversation for Now
It was extremely disconcerting to be in such a large crowd after so many months of it just being the two of them and a few close friends, Enjolras decided. He felt Melodie's tension radiating along with her undeniable heat. The Paris Opera House was gaudy and austere beyond all reason and he had to stop himself from openly scowling. Here were the ignorant masses. The willfully ignorant masses.
Here in their shimmering silks and soft satins, the elite of Paris crushed together, laughing as if there weren't any cares in the world. As if their fellow citizens weren't starving in the streets of Paris and dying by the hundreds every day. The scent of burning candles, overly perfumed women, and the thought of the atrocities that he knew existed not even a block away combined to cause Enjolras's stomach to roll.
This is what he fought to end. This is what his friends had died for.
Disgusting, blatant ignorance.
Keeping his temper tonight would prove to be a trial.
"Monsieur? Mademoiselle?" A red frock coated attendant was watching them cautiously. Enjolras was still trying to get a handle on his emotions and was grateful that Melodie responded in his stead.
"Yes?" Melodie's voice was just as cautious as the attendant's. The man cleared his throat and held out his hand.
"May I see you tickets please? I'd be happy to escort you to your seats." His tone had become suspicious and Enjolras guessed that they're expressions had alerted the man to their uncommon situation. Enjolras said nothing, but merely pulled the King's letter from the inside pocket of his coat. The attendant read the missive, his eyebrows climbing higher and higher into his hair line.
He snapped the missive closed and thrust it back into Enjolras's hands.
"This way please." He turned smartly and they were forced to follow his quickly retreating form.
Up the multilevel staircase and through a series of heavily guarded doors, the pair found themselves outside the most heavily guarded door yet. Enjolras felt a grim sort of satisfaction seeing the bayonetted soldiers. Their revolution, failed though it may have been, clearly had sent some sort of message to their Majesties.
He looked down to gauge Melodie's emotions. Her face was paler than usual but there was a determined tilt to her chin that made him grin. She'd obviously taken his words of courage seriously.
If only he could do the same.
He knew he was afraid. What would happen next was out of his hands. The control he'd fought to maintain for most of his adult life was no more.
Or was it?
Maybe, just maybe, if he could keep his temper in check, if he could control his emotions and respond in a manner befitting his intelligence, maybe they would be spared.
He could only hope. Enjolras took a deep breath and nodded to the attendant. The man knocked on the door and after a brief pause, it swung open. They were ushered into a luxurious reception, bedecked in red velvet and gold foil on every carving. Forcing his eyes away from the glare of the reflecting lights, Enjolras felt his stomach drop out from under him.
Their Majesties, Louis Philippe I and Maria Amalia, stood not four paces away from them. They were not what he had been expecting. Mind you he knew better than to expect devil's horns and forked tails, but the complete … ordinariness of their looks was surprising.
Her Majesty, Maria Amalia was tall, with a long, round face and long thin nose. The lines around her mouth and eyes bespoke more trouble than what Enjolras could expect a woman of such wealth and power to have.
Louis Philippe was just on the side of portly but that may have been due to his contrast with his reed thin wife. His dark hair was just beginning to gray and his slightly short stature combined with the way his eyes darted around the room gave Enjolras the impression that he was out of his element. Which made sense seeing as it was only rarely any more than anyone of the royal household set foot outside the palace.
The man probably thought a full-scale rebellion would break out in the theater if someone caught wind that the last of France's rebels were the guests of the King and Queen.
Enjolras could honestly admit he wasn't sure what he would do if something like that were to occur.
He looked down to Melodie again to see how she was holding up.
Her breathing was even although a little quicker than normal and her face was still pale, but her head was cocked at that inquisitive angle he had come to recognize.
No one had spoken yet, not even an attendant to give the introductions. Melodie's hand twitched on his arm, a sure sign she was quickly losing patience. She looked up to him and blinked owlishly, as though he might know what to do. Enjolras was tempted to shrug because although he had been raised to move in the circles of society, not even his parents had entertained the idea of him meeting with the King and Queen. Perhaps he should have asked Marius what to expect after all …
"Melodie?" The Queen's voice was soft, hesitant, and dare he think it, caring?
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Melodie's neck snapped as she whipped her head to look at the Queen. The woman seemed to be trembling and her eyes held unshed tears. Louis Philippe appeared to be barely restraining himself from reaching out for her. Melodie felt her throat close up at the sudden rush of emotion that came over her.
Maria Amalia had always been good to her. She had never suffered from their Majesties on a personal level. It was in that instance that she realized something important.
Although their Majesties were the figureheads of the government, they were never the ones the revolution had been fighting. It was the system and the system would be unlikely to change with a change of who was at the helm. Change needed to start within. They certainly had every right to rebel, at least in her opinion, but while they fought on the outside, they needed someone to fight for them within. And Melodie had a fairly good idea who would be just in a position to do so. She wanted to share the revelations with Enjolras but knew there was a more immediate situation she needed to handle.
"Your Majesties." She murmured as she dropped into an elegant curtsey. She felt Enjolras bow stiffly beside her.
As she rose from her curtsey, she kept her gaze steady on Maria Amalia and Louis Philippe. She would not show fear. She would not show the anxiety that she felt trying to swallow her up. She watched Maria Amalia take a deep, shuddering breath and clutch at the King's sleeve.
The King cleared his throat and held out his hands to her.
"Come here child, let us look at you." He gruffly commanded. She touched Enjolras's elbow while avoiding his eyes and moved forward. She placed her hands in the King's and let him draw her closer. Their Majesties said nothing as they looked her front over. Maria Amalia's eyes darted here and there, penetrating in their strength. It was as if she wanted to categorize every hurt that may have occurred to her person. Louis Philippe gently turned her so they got a look at her back as well. She felt the Queen gently brush her long golden curls. As Melodie turned back to face them, Maria Amalia gave her a watery smile.
"I'm so glad to see those curls. When you disappeared into Paris … I was … I was afraid you'd have to sell it."
"Non, Votre Majesté." Melodie answered softly.
"Well theirs is no obvious damage we can see, but I must ask, were you hurt in this … rebellion?" Louis Philippe eyed her critically.
"Nothing more than a scratch." She demurred as she shook her head.
"Just a scratch?" Enjolras erupted behind her. She flinched at his volume and turned to look at him. Her breath caught at the fierce expression on his face. It's intensity nearly melted her bones.
Enjolras seemed to tear his eyes away from her and glared at the King and Queen. They seemed startled by his presence and Melodie assumed they must have forgotten that he was there. Shaking off her contemplation, she hastily made introduction.
"Your Majesties, may I present Alexandre Denis Enjolras. Enjolras is a graduate of the Academy, a revolutionary like myself, and …" She hesitated here, wondering how much she should reveal about their relationship. She caught his stare and sucked in a breath. The passion in his gaze made her want to leave now with him and never look back.
"And the one man I cannot live without." She finished in a whisper.
Their Majesties looked back and forth between the two of them before answering.
"More than a scratch you say, Monsieur Enjolras?" Maria Amalia prompted tentatively.
He swung his gaze in their direction and glared again.
"Do not let her fool you. She had a healthy bit a flesh torn away by a militia bullet."
"I recovered." She muttered glancing at the floor.
"Thanks be to God for it." The King whispered fervently.
Melodie darted a glance at Enjolras. He seemed taken aback at the level of care the monarchs showed for her.
A bell rung, indicating the start of the performance. The King motioned them forward as the Queen took his arm. As they entered the box, the King turned to them again.
"Try to enjoy the performance, we can continue our discussion later." He waved them to their seats.
Melodie could feel the tension rolling off Enjolras and he shook slightly beside her. She stood up on her toes before they sat and placed her lips to his ears.
"Together." She whispered firmly. She placed a quick kiss on his cheek after he nodded. They sat to watch the performance. Mozart's The Magic Flute held no real interest for her and she let her mind go blank. She wanted nothing more than for all this to be over. She had made her decision long ago and would stick to it.
Come hell or high water, she would stand by Enjolras.
The time flew by, then the lights came up and a mass exodus went through the theater. As everything went quiet, the King and Queen turned their chairs unceremoniously toward them. Louis Philippe bent forward and rested his arms on his knees. His face was a mask, but Melodie thought she knew his well enough to recognize the anguish in his eyes.
"Why?" He finally asked after a long silence. Melodie blinked at him twice, waiting for further prompting.
"Why incite a rebellion? Have you no memory or care of all that has been done for you since we took you into our household all those years ago?" His voice was impatient.
She caught Enjolras getting ready to answer out of the corner her eye and placed her hand on his to halt the tirade that was brewing behind his lips. She knew from this one question that this meeting did not land on his or both their shoulders. It was her answers, her reasons, that would decide the outcome of their meeting with the King and Queen.
"Because it was never just about me. Your Majesty, when was the last time you actually went out into Paris and the other parts of France. When was the last time you had a genuine interaction with one of her citizens?"
Louis Philippe shook his head but continued to gaze at her. She took a deep breath before continuing.
"Your Majesty, your people are suffering. Whether it is because of your actions or those of your advisors who most certainly keep things from you," Enjolras snorted at that one. "no longer matters. What matters is that the income gap has widened and the conditions of working class have deteriorated. What matters is that men and women fall ill by the thousands every day because they cannot even get a loaf of bread. What matters is that there are children living inside monuments because their parents cannot care for them and they have been turned out by their families."
Maria Amalia raised a trembling hand to her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.
Enjolras must have noticed due to his quickly inhaled breath and Melodie fought down the smirk. Now he knew where that small habit came from.
She looked back to the King and followed with her honesty.
"I did what I felt was right. There is no advocate for the lower class in your council. Every time a representative came to speak with you or your ministers, they were laughed at and turned away. We … I had no other option. There was no other way to turn your attention to us. There was no other way to change our world for the better."
Melodie felt a touch on her hand and glanced at Enjolras. "Please." He entreated. Melodie sighed and sat back to let him speak. Enjolras cleared his throat and turned his steady gaze on the monarchs.
"Melodie was brought up to do what she thought was right, by a man and woman that I come to understand you both regarded as friends. I have held this belief for most of my adult life as well. We did what was right for the people and the country we love. We are prepared to accept the consequences of our actions."
Louis Philippe rubbed the back of his neck and shot Enjolras a grave look.
"All the consequences?" He asked.
"All of them." They replied together. Enjolras shifted in his seat again and moved to speak.
"I must ask one boon though."
Melodie glanced sharply at him, uncertain of where his mind was going.
"Whatever punishment you decide to inflict upon us, please do not separate us. As she said, she cannot be without me, and I, I cannot be without her."
Melodie felt the breath in her body leave in a rush. Enjolras didn't look toward her, but she felt his intensity from where she sat. Her gaze went the King. He had sat back in his seat and was now gazing out over the now empty auditorium. The Queen was also watching him, her expression guarded and cautious.
"Louis?" Maria Amalia reached out and tentatively touched her husband's wrist. He didn't jump but he did tense more in his seat. At last he turned his attention back toward them. His countenance was grave and thoughtful.
"You have given me much to think on. I will have my decision as to your punishments in two days' time. As well as hopefully, at least a temporary solution to the problems you have presented me. You both do understand that fixing these types of errors in our society takes time?" His eyes had sharpened on the both of them. It was at these times that Melodie remembered that he was a father to many children and was not just a king of a country.
She felt Enjolras's hand on her own. She swallowed thickly and nodded, too full of emotion and too tired to speak. The King nodded in return and stood, gesturing for them to leave the royal box.
"Then my queen and myself wish you a pleasant evening." She and Enjolras rose and bowed before turning to exit.
"Melodie." The Queen's voice drew her up short. She spun to face the woman who had given her so much.
Maria Amalia's eyes were teary again but her smile was radiant.
"Thanks be to God to for your safety child. No matter everything else, your being alive means the world to us. Give our love to your sister. Goodnight sweet girl." Melodie sucked in a shuddering breath and swept the Queen a deep curtsey.
Before she could contemplate it, Enolras was ushering her down the steps and into the waiting carriage. Only when they were fully ensconced in its softness and the curtains on the windows were drawn, did she let the tears fall.
She cried for all the stress of the past months. She cried for her parents who never got to see the woman she had become. She cried for her friends that would have applauded their interaction with the King and Queen tonight. She cried for the monarchs that were so afraid of their people that they would never know the love of their nation. She cried for her sweet sister who had spent so long alone and would probably now never know peace because of her. She cried for the man whose arms were becoming her shelter from the world because he was only now knowing what it meant to be loved and even that was threatened.
But mostly she cried for herself.
She cried because she had lost so much to gain so much to only lose it again. And now, with Enjolras's arms around her, she felt she had gained again. Only this time, she felt the dark cloud of apprehension hanging over her. Something would come again and soon, to take what she fought to keep this time. She kept these thoughts to herself though and cried into Enjolras's chest.
It would do no good to make him worry too. Call it denial, but perhaps if she could pretend happiness for the next couple of days, perhaps the darkness would not come.
Just perhaps.
