Part Three – The Climax

Scene Two: In Which Courfeyrac Learns Something Of True Love

Events flew swiftly that day. Enjolras took Cosette for a walk—I watched as he led her away with tender gaze and quiet voice—and left me with those two radicals who spoke to each other with the same quiet joy. Marius' eyes never left Eponine's face. He seemed fixated on her every word, his eyebrow lifting whenever he caught an error in her argument. He almost seemed exultant whenever he won some sort of debate.

But oh, pity me! There I sat, alone, and those two nincompoop men—yes, Enjolras in Marius' body was now also a nincompoop—hardly even noticed their poor, loyal friend. Marius ranted away about "the people" and "the people" and "the people", and I can't comprehend why the girl looked so earnestly interested. I snored the majority of the time.

And Enjolras had either forgotten to bring his pocket watch or lost track of time in his "spending time with my beloved".

So dear reader, pity me. For my friends have betrayed me to loneliness.

Lunch passed. I munched an apple furiously, looming over Marius and Eponine like a menacing storm. They didn't notice me, unfortunately…

Then the afternoon arrived. I was still nibbling away desperately, this time at a piece of cheese. At last the girl seemed to realize it was getting dark.

"Monsieur, I must go! Maman will be worried—and… and Papa will…"

He looked at her anxiously. "Will you be all right? Shall I walk you to your home?"

But she refused his gallant offers—oh! how I sighed with relief then!—and left the café in a rush. Marius watched, his face unreadable. And then Enjolras entered—and, really, I was positively intoxicated with joy at this: without Cosette!

Oh, what a happy man I was! Actually, dear reader, I was bordering utter despair.

"Enjolras!" said I, stumbling forward, "Got rid of the lady at last, did you?" I snorted, not waiting for an answer, "Good! We're alone! Finally just the three of us! The three good ol' gents! No ladies! No females!"

"Courfeyrac, are you ill?" began Marius, taking hold of me.

"What? Ill? Of course not!" I laughed. "Why on earth would I be ill?"

The two of them still didn't seem convinced. "Perhaps Joly will know…"

"Oh no, there's no need for that," I protested, stumbling towards a chair. "I'm fine, really!" Tears were beginning to blur my vision; I cannot deny that these were unmanly tears. My cheeks felt hot. "Perfectly, utterly fine!"

The two men glanced at each other quickly.

Finally, I convinced them that I was not ill and that, it being June, I was having a very irritating encounter with hay fever. "Itchy nose and watery eyes," said I. Then I slumped in my chair and attempted to look entranced with a piece of napkin.

Marius moved to another table close by and sat down. He began speaking to Enjolras, and what I heard was this (I hope I recount these details correctly… my hayfever was terrible at the moment, you see, and I blew my nose multiple times):

Said Marius grimly, "Mar—Enjolras, will you sit down?"

"Oh! If you wish it, Monsieur." He sat down accordingly.

"May I ask you something?"

"If you wish it," was the timid reply.

"What does it feel like? Being in love, I mean." (Here I blew my nose very loudly.)

Enjolras shrugged. "You want to know everything about her. What gives her pain gives you pain. When you fight, you feel miserable afterwards. You want her to be happy all the time, even though you know it's not possible. You want to protect her. Spending time with her gives you joy…"

Marius said nothing for a while. And then, after a hesitant pause, "I think I'm in love." (Again, I blew my nose with a vengeance.)

Astonished, Enjolras stared at him. "You? In love?"

Marius nodded. "I want to know everything about her. I want to help her. And protect her from the evils of this world. I want to fight for her. If I have to, then I'll die doing it. It's the same love I have for France. Isn't it love?"

Enjolras smiled. "That's love."

Tears were overflowing down my cheeks by now. "So beautiful!" I choked out. My heart ached more than ever. When they turned to look at me, I cleared my throat and said quickly, "Horrid, really! Someone shut the window. The pollen is unbearable!"

They shrugged and continued on with their sober talk.

Marius was really red now as he said: "I suppose… I suppose love is not all a silly game…"

Enjolras blushed slightly. "And I realize how important your revolution really is. It isn't just rights, is it? It begins with something else. Cosette showed me what it was… I finally understand. It's love. Love for the people. I suppose I never realized that your love for France was not so different from mine."

As he said these words, something happened. I'm afraid I was still blowing away, so I did not witness this miraculous thing. But I felt the ground beneath my feet tremble, and Enjolras and Marius were rubbing their heads furiously.

"Who did that?" demanded Enjolras.

"What?"

"You hit me!" said Enjolras angrily. "Again!"

"I didn't," protested Marius, "I didn't!"

I watched, agape. "Enjolras! Marius!"

They looked at me expectantly.

"You're Enjolras!"

Enjolras blinked. "Yes. Why?"

"And you're Marius!"

Marius blinked. "Ah, yes. Why, Courfeyrac, what's the matter?"

At last it dawned upon these fools that they had returned to their normal states. Enjolras was once more his handsome self. Marius was once more his… erm, as he had been before.

I expected rejoicing and manly tears and relief, but instead I got quite the opposite.

"Oh!" mourned Marius. "Oh, my Cosette will not love me! She's fallen in love with you! Why, oh, why did this have to happen!?"

Enjolras looked just as grim. "And… Eponine will not know me." I saw pain in his eyes, as he realized this slowly: "She has never known me. She's only known you. Marius Pontmercy. The man she loves."

I turned away and stared at the rain that had begun to pour. At that moment, my thoughts were flying apart. Perhaps true love does not exist. Perhaps love is a messy affair that tears people apart rather than bringing them together. Love gives joy. But from what I've seen, it only takes that joy away afterwards. Perhaps true love is not a worthy experience.

That's what I was thinking. But the next morning—wait! I must inform the reader that we spent the entire twenty-four hours in the café, mourning. If the dear reader is wondering what in the world I was mourning about, since I had neither gained nor lost anything, I will tell you.

I grieved because it was raining and, it being a storm out there, I was stuck with these nincompoops. Yes. That's why I was mourning. Friend, I am an honorable man.

But the next morning, something made my thoughts fly apart once more. In bounced Cosette, searching for Enjolras. And in stole Eponine, her dark brown eyes looking round for a familiar face.

The two men took possession of their lovers—meaning, Enjolras with Eponine and Marius with Cosette—and this is what they said.

From Enjolras to a very bewildered Eponine: "Yesterday, when you were speaking to Marius… that was me. I know you've no idea who I am, save perhaps that I'm a fool who is leading the people to their deaths. But yesterday, we argued about it and I told you that I love the people. I love the brave, miserable people of France who suffer day by day. And all I want to do is protect them. I told you that. I told you that since you are a citizen of France, you represent the people.

I hope you believe me. All I want is to continue talking to you. Today, and tomorrow, and perhaps forever, if you will."

The words poured forth from his mouth in complete earnesty, although after realizing that he held her hand, he dropped it with a red face.

Eponine seemed confused; she hesitated, and then said, "What of womens' rights? What say you to that?"

He smiled, they sat down, and, I must confess, I didn't bother to hear anymore.

From Marius to a hesitant Cosette: "Yesterday, when you were speaking to Enjolras… that was me. I'm so sorry that I hurt you. In all honesty, it was unintentional. I love you. I really do. From the day I found out your name was Cosette."

The same thing happened. She gazed at him, perplexed, and then said slowly, "I told you yesterday what I love most in the world. What was that?"

He smiled, offered her his arm, and they walked out the door as he whispered something into her ear.

And again, I didn't bother to hear what it was. I had realized something, dear friend. I had realized something about true love. It did give pain. It gives joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain. But one thing was certain. True love does not count on mere appearance. It is something like cohesion. Despite changes, tensions—even those that are painful—true love never dies.

Thank you for the reviews! I think there will be one or two more scenes. Hope you enjoyed! :D