New chapter! Enjoy! - mysoulisastar
FIVE YEARS AFTER EPONINE WAS ADOPTED. (ENJOLRAS IS CURRENTLY TWENTY-TWO YEARS OF AGE, AND EPONINE IS NINETEEN YEARS OLD)
Eponine stared at her reflection in the mirror. She could hardly remember herself as a frightened, emaciated rabbit of a girl. But here she was again, the first time she had seen herself wearing the silver charm-bracelet Enjolras had given her, since she had first come to Marie's house. And here she was again, at a new house. Marie had moved them back to Paris to attend one of her old friend's masquerade ball for her son's twenty second birthday.
But there were differences - big differences. Her speech was refined, and she was a witty girl, with great knowledge. Her cheeks had filled out, and her raven-black hair was lustrous with health. Her body had gone from stick thin to romantically slender, with lush curves. Yes, she had been called beautiful, but in her eyes, that was not important. The most important thing was that she was happy. She was happy - ever so happy. Sometimes, she woke with tears in her eyes, sure that this beautiful dream had ended, and she had woken up to a nightmare. But no, Marie was extremely kind, and treated her like her own daughter.
She was dressed beautifully tonight, and she could hardly believe it was her. Her maidservants had tried to get her to remove that old bauble, the charm-bracelet, but she had refused. Tonight was her night to choose, and who knew who she might find there?
Enjolras looked at his reflection and sighed. He could still hear his mother words, echoing in his brain. "You have to find yourself a wife, my son." Enjolras didn't care. He wanted to stay unmarried, with his only mistress, Patria. He needed to plan his revolution, not spend time finding himself a wife. He sighed heavily again. At least the Les Amis de l'abc would all be there, all dressed up like him. He supposed his mother would make him dance with as many women as possible, and try to marry him off to whatever unfortunate girl happened to be his partner at the midnight unmasking.
He groaned as he pulled on his mask. This was going to be a long night.
Eponine tied on her mask, a lacy white creation. She hated thinking that she was going to waltz the night away while people lay sick or starving in the streets. In fact, if fate had not been kinder, she would have been one of them, watching the lady step out into her carriage, bitterly rueing the day she had been born. All that was going to change if the damned aristocracy would just give the poor the time of the day. What was so different about the poor? They were still the same creatures, and all headed to on the same journey to our graves. She looked at the fine jewelry she wore, and in a stroke of impulsiveness, she tore off the ruby and gold necklace she wore. She would wear no expensive jewelry tonight, with the exception of the charm bracelet, as a tribute. As a tribute to the girl she was, the girl she had become, and the girl she truly was. And the girl she could be.
Enjolras abhorred balls. What was he supposed to talk about with his dance partner? Hello, you look very nice today, goodbye, move on? What was the fun in that? The mask didn't make it any better, and he itched to tug it off, but decided to leave it on. He didn't have the strength to argue with his mother anyways. He liked it back when things were simple, and he had one female friend that he always felt comfortable with. Eponine, her name was. He wondered sadly what had become of her. Probably froze to death one night. Enjolras had long stopped looking, but he never forgotten.
Then, he saw her, and he blinked, to be sure he wasn't missing anything. She looked a lot like Eponine, his old friend, except she was introduced as the Viscountess Kingsley, future Duchess, so it couldn't possibly be her. She was also fed well, and clean. He laughed at his own thought. A Viscountess, not clean and fed well? It was the poor who merited his attention. He should despise everyone here, including himself, for being rich. However, he found himself drawn to the raven-haired girl, who had the same throaty laugh as his old friend. In fact, it was uncanny how much she looked and sounded like Eponine.
The similarities ended there. Enjolras was sure that he had never heard Eponine argue philosophy with Combeferre, or debate certain medical procedures with Joly. He was continually kept busy, but his eyes never left the girl. It was strange. For a girl of her rank, she was rich enough to be decked out in enough jewels to make anybody's head spin, but her throat was unfashionably bare - not that Enjolras was complaining, for her milk-white throat was much prettier than any jewel - and her dress...It was beautiful, but in a sort of homespun way. Not in the artificial way. It was made of deep rich red fabric, which looked made her look like a cardinal in flight.
That was why, when Enjolras was finally released by a girl with an iron grip, he sought out the girl, and asked her to dance.
Her eyes glimmered a deep coffee-brown. "Hello."
Enjolras blinked. "Hello."
Without preamble, she launched into a topic. "I hear you're a revolutionary leader from your friend, although I do not know your name. Tell me, what right do you have to fight for the poor when you yourself have lived a life of luxury?"
Enjolras sighed. "I don't know, I just felt like something had to be done about it. France cannot suffer like this under the hands of the aristocracy any longer. Just because I'm rich, doesn't mean I'm blind to the poor, and the despair of them."
The girl grinned widely. "Then, I wish you luck Monsieur. But..." her smile faded. "...the poor may not take kindly to this type of interruption. They may not want to entrust the lives of their breadwinners to a young schoolboy, no matter if he is rich, or if he is poor. No matter if success is guaranteed." Enjolras found himself entrapped in her spell of conversation, and began to respond more easily, and soon the two were conversing like they were old friends. In fact, time passed so quickly, they were still talking when the clock tolled twelve. They stopped. "You go first," she said, her face opening up into an easy grin. Enjolras shrugged and untied his mask, letting it fall from his face. The girl gasped.
"What? What?" He asked. "Do I have something on my face?"
"Enjolras! Do you remember me?" Enjolras squinted his eyes at her face and shook his head, his curly hair bouncing around. With trembling hands, the girl, too, untied the ribbon that held her mask in place, and looked at him. "Is this face familiar?"
Enjolras could hear his heart hammering in his chest. Could it really be? "Eponine?" he asked cautiously.
"Yes!" the word left her lips, and she pressed a hand to her mouth. "I thought I'd never see you again, Antoine." He laughed, and gathered the girl up in his arms. "I missed you, 'Ponine." Muffled by his black coat, her response was unclear, but he was absolutely sure she'd said it. "I missed you too, 'Jolras."
How did you like it? Was is good, bad, or just okay? Thanks for reading! - mysoulisastar
