So – I recently went to see Les Mis for the third time, and this was the result. For the sake of this story, pretend that Marius wasn't present at the barricades, nor was he ever in love with Cosette, who managed to successfully escape to England along with Jean Valjean.
Lovely Lady – Part One
Several years had passed since the barricades had fallen in the Revolution of 1832. Marius Pontmercy, now a successful Parisian lawyer, sat in his office staring out the window. In the short few years since the deaths of his friend Enjolras and the other members of the ABC Café, Marius had searched long and hard for the one person he refused to believe was gone from his life forever: Eponine, the girl who had been there for him, at his beck and call regardless of what was going on in her own life. Marius had not been as ignorant to her parents' treatment of her as Eponine had believed him to be; in as subtle a way as possible, he had offered her sanctuary in his apartment whenever he could and whenever he felt that Eponine would not be missed.
After the Revolution, Eponine had disappeared. Marius returned to his grandfather, repentant for the differences that had resulted in such a lengthy separation. Reclaiming his heritage, Marius used the vast resources at his disposal to search for Eponine, all to no avail. He should have known: Eponine had grown up on the streets and was surely able to disappear so completely that no one would ever be able to find her should she so wish. Dejected, though not defeated, Marius turned his attention to his work as a lawyer, quickly gaining the reputation as one of Paris' brilliant new minds. As a result, Marius could have had his pick of any of the eligible women within his social circle; yet he remained chaste, never once losing hope that he would one day find Eponine.
Closing his books for the day, Marius fetched his hat and coat as he prepared to walk the short few blocks to his apartment. Although he made good money, Marius chose to live simply, his time as a revolutionary having taught him that his true needs were few; he was happy with nothing more than a bedroom, a kitchenette, and a small room for washing in.
Having reached the street, Marius locked the door behind him and turned, taking a deep breath of air before setting off. He hadn't gone far when he was stopped by a bare-footed young woman in a tattered dress.
She reminds me of dear Eponine, Marius thought to himself, his lips twitching at the reminder of his long-lost friend.
"Word on the street is that you are all alone, Mon seigneur," she rasped, shifting her hips seductively while lowering the sleeves of her tattered dress to reveal the slight swell of her breasts, leaving little doubt in Marius' mind as to what she was after. "Perhaps you want a little company for the night? For just a few sous, I can give you all the company you like."
Yet there was something familiar about her and the way she carried herself, Marius mused. She refused to meet his gaze, so Marius caught her chin in his hand and gently raised her head until they were face-to-face. He gasped the moment he looked on her fully; he would have known those eyes anywhere –
"Eponine?" he gasped.
At hearing her name spoken aloud, the girl wrenched out of his grip, shooting him one last terrified glance before running away. Marius gave chase, his long legs easily giving him the advantage over the terrified girl. He caught up with Eponine, quickly darting in front of her to prevent her escape. She looked around desperately, like a caged animal. Marius extended his hands toward her in a gesture of supplication.
"Peace, Eponine," he whispered. "I will not harm you."
"What do you want?" she sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
"I've been looking for you for years, 'Ponine, ever since the Revolution," Marius revealed, his fingers trailing ever-so lightly down her arms. She shivered at his touch: so tender, so unlike what she was used to and had even come to expect, especially from men.
"Why?" she whispered, her eyes having fallen closed, as if in a trance.
"Because I care for you; you're my friend, Eponine," said Marius simply. "Will you come home with me?"
Just when Marius thought she would refuse, despite what she had been prepared to offer him before she realized who he was, Eponine gave a sharp nod of her head and turned aside to let Marius lead the way. She trailed after him, always remaining several paces behind, and Marius soon realized that she was pretending that they weren't together in an effort to protect his reputation. Falling back to walk alongside her, Marius took Eponine's hand in his, thus clearly staking his claim.
"Monsieur, you do not know what you do!" Eponine exclaimed as she tried to break free.
"On the contrary, Mademoiselle," said Marius, tightening his grip on her in his determination to see her safely home. Thankfully, Eponine soon gave up on fighting him and submitted to his holding her hand.
They walked in silence. Marius, for all his searching, had never gotten as far as planning what to say when he actually found Eponine, while Eponine herself had condemned herself to a life without love, so sure was she that she would never see Marius again. The pair soon reached Marius' apartment, where he lived on the top floor. Gesturing up the stairs, Marius followed after Eponine, producing a key from his pocket and letting her inside.
Eponine looked around for a moment before making her way towards the bed. She turned to face Marius and began undoing the buttons along the front of her dress, peeping up at Marius through her lashes as though to judge his reaction. Marius, for his part, was stunned by Eponine's actions. Where was the feisty yet modest young woman he had once known? What could have possibly happened to her in the span of a few years? Shaking himself from his stupor, Marius crossed the room in a few strides and stilled Eponine's hands.
"No, Eponine," he whispered. "You don't have to do that."
Her hands still encased in his, Marius stared unabashedly at the dirt-encrusted nails and scabs littering her delicate palms. His eyes roved the rest of her body in as unobtrusive a way as possible, taking note of Eponine's scraggly appearance: her hair hung in oily strands, while the rest of her body was caked in grim – she clearly hadn't taken a bath in some time; there was an ugly gash along one arm and another across the top of her chest that disappeared beneath her chemise. Marius dreaded discovering what the rest of her clothes hid. Had someone done this to his precious Eponine, or were these marks self-inflicted?
Deciding that his questions could wait, Marius guided Eponine to sit on the bed while he knelt at her feet, a deliberate move on his part to give her a sense of power over him. Gently stroking her wrists, he waited for her to meet his eyes. "Would you like to take a bath?" he asked carefully, cautious of setting Eponine off.
"Yes, sir – my thanks," Eponine replied after a moment's pause during which she considered his words and wondered what he might expect in return for his kindness. In her experience, men never gave of themselves unless they received compensation.
"I'll heat the water," said Marius, rising to his feet while gesturing for Eponine to remain seated, "Wouldn't want for you to catch cold."
Eponine watched in silence as Marius moved about the apartment with ease. So many years apart and yet Marius had remained mostly unchanged. He was the same, except that he wasn't. The years had been kind to Marius, unlike to her. When Marius had known her before, she had been considered passing fair; now, she could surely be nothing but ugly. Dropping her gaze when Marius turned to find her staring at him, she waited for his next instructions. Over the years, she had known many men, and she had quickly learned to submit to any of their orders lest she wished to feel the harsh sting of their belt on her bare skin. Although the Marius she had once known would never have thought to harm her, she wasn't sure what the years had done to his character. Until she knew for sure, then, she would do everything he said without complaint.
Marius disappeared into the washroom, returning several times as he carried buckets of water back and forth until the tub was filled to the brim. He approached a chest that was pushed up against the foot of the bed, kneeling to open the lid and pulling out a well-worn nightshirt. "It's the best I have to offer," he said apologetically to Eponine, holding out the garment for her to take.
"Oh, you don't have to, Monsieur," Eponine whispered breathily.
Marius returned to kneeling at Eponine's feet, raising his hands to frame Eponine's face. "I don't think you realize your importance to me, 'Ponine. When you disappeared, I was devastated. I didn't know whether you were alive or dead. I'm so glad to have you back," he murmured, moving to gently enfold Eponine in his arms. "Whatever you want from me, it's yours. Although I would like nothing more than for you to stay with me, you can choose otherwise. You are under no obligation to me. There is nothing owed between us."
"You are too kind, Monsieur," replied Eponine, respectfully ducking her head and refusing to meet Marius' gaze.
"Would you like my help in bathing?" Marius inquired.
"If you wish," said Eponine, shrugging her shoulders. "Seeing as I am currently imposing upon your hospitality, I am hardly in a position to object."
" 'Ponine," whispered Marius urgently. "Let me make one thing clear – a confession, of sorts: I find myself very much in love with you; I have been for years. However, I don't want it to seem as though I am taking advantage of you. If at any time I make you feel uncomfortable, tell me to leave and I will. I promise that I won't take offence."
"You could never offend me," Eponine whispered, daring to reach out a hand and stroke the smooth alabaster skin of Marius' chiseled cheek. After a moment's pause, she said, "You can wash my back, if you like."
"Thank you, Eponine," Marius whispered in reply, capturing the hand that she had yet to withdraw, and kissing her palm with the utmost reverence and tenderness.
Leading her into the bathroom, Marius turned his back as Eponine undressed and only turned around again once he heard her submerge herself in the tub of water. What he saw made him growl low in his throat, though he tried to hide his disgust with a cough. There were streaks of blood coating Eponine's back, as well as an assortment of bruises. How she could walk upright, much less breathe, without giving any indication of the pain she must be in was a mystery to Marius. Rolling up his sleeves, he knelt behind her and lathered up a cloth. Ever-so gently, he began to stroke her abused skin – the soapy water sluiced down Eponine's back – taking care to not cause her additional pain.
Eponine moaned with delight at feeling years' worth of blood, sweat, and dirt wash away. Marius' soothing hands eased her pain more than any medicine ever could. He handed her another cloth, and she began to wash her front, taking care that Marius saw as little of her mutilated body as possible. No words were spoken between them. Both were feeling decidedly awkward, while at the same time complete, as though each had been lost without the other.
"I've come home from so far," Eponine hummed under her breath.
"What was that, 'Ponine?" asked Marius, who had heard perfectly well. Her words filled him with a sense of peace; although she had not yet returned his declaration of love, he had hope that she soon would.
"Nothing, Monsieur," she whispered, instantly falling silent and returning to the task of cleaning herself.
"You can call me 'Marius,' you know," said Marius lightly. "I promise not to take offence if you drop the honorific before my name."
"Oh no, Monsieur – it would not be proper," Eponine protested.
Marius sighed, but let the matter drop. In all the years that he had known Eponine, he had never heard her call him anything but 'Monsieur' or 'Monsieur Marius.' Just once, he would have liked to hear his given name fall from her lips. Raising his hands to Eponine's head, Marius began to lather soap in her hair. Eponine seemed to melt at his touch, letting out a contented sigh as his fingers gently scraped her scalp, the sensations leaving her nerves tingling and completely relaxing her body, which was as tense as a tightly-coiled spring.
In an attempt to relax her further, Marius began to croon softly in her ear: "Hush-a-bye, dear Eponine, you won't feel any pain. I'm here; I won't desert you now."
Eponine's breath caught in her throat as Marius' velvety-smooth vocals washed over her, his song as cleansing to her soul as the bath was to her body. "Merci, Marius," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Marius smiled to himself at Eponine's address of him and bent to press his lips to the top of her wet head. "My pleasure," he replied cheerfully. "If you're finished, I'll leave you to dry off."
As he rose to his feet and made to leave the room, Eponine caught his hand in hers. Eyes locked on Marius' face, she gently brushed her lips across his knuckles and smiled tenderly up at him.
Marius responded by kneeling down once more and kissing her forehead. "I'll have dinner ready for you soon," he promised, and was gone.
When Eponine finally exited the washroom in her borrowed nightgown, she found that Marius had set up a small table on which sat two steaming bowls of stew and glasses of water, as well as a loaf of bread. She felt her stomach rumble and realized that she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten. Marius seemed to sense this, if the way he hurriedly pulled out her chair for her was any indication. Eponine fell on the food like a starving animal; although she sensed Marius' eyes on her, she couldn't seem to stop, no matter how much she wanted Marius to think well of her.
Marius ate slowly, but stopped after only a few mouthfuls of the stew he had labored over. It was soon clear to him that Eponine needed the food more. Who knew when the last time she ate had been?
"Here," he said, pushing his bowl across the table towards her, "I'm not as hungry as I thought. Why don't you finish that? I wouldn't want it going to waste."
If Eponine had been in her right mind, rather than half-starved – both for food and for attention – she would have realized what Marius was up to: that he was willing to go hungry rather than see her suffer. But all she wanted was food, so she gladly pulled Marius' bowl in front of her and began to devour the remaining stew.
Marius wanted to cry. How could his friend have fallen so far? He again cursed himself for ever letting Eponine out of his sight, and vowed that from then on he would be a better friend to her whom he loved more than life itself. But he would have to be gentle with her. Eponine had clearly been through a great deal and had suffered tremendously; her self-confidence was practically non-existent. In short, Eponine seemed to no longer care about anything but serving up her body to whoever could pay, waiting for orders to follow rather than living for herself.
"Do you want to go to bed now?" he asked quietly.
Eponine seemed to stiffen at his question, before clearly steeling herself to carry through with some unpleasant task. "If you do, Mon seigneur," she replied, equally as quiet. "How would you like me?"
Marius stared at her uncomprehendingly; it was only as Eponine moved to the bed and started taking off the nightgown he had lent her that he realized what she thought he wanted. "No, Eponine!" he exclaimed in a choked voice, lurching out of his chair in his hurry to get to her and convince Eponine that he wasn't after her body alone. "No, my love," he whispered, re-fastening the buttons that Eponine had already loosened.
"If you love me as you say, why don't you want my body?" asked Eponine in a small voice.
"I do want you, very much," Marius replied, soothing away the hurt he had unwittingly caused by peppering kisses all across her face. "Not tonight, though, 'Ponine; not like this. When we are together, I want it to be your choice. I want you to want this, too."
"I… don't understand," whispered Eponine, confusion evident on her face.
"You will," Marius assured her. "I'll show you, every day, how much you mean to me and how much you are worth."
Although Eponine was still confused, she allowed Marius to help her into bed, smiling bemusedly as he tucked the covers around her and kissed her forehead. She hadn't been treated this way since she was a little girl, before Cosette had been taken away by the strange man and her parents' affection for their only daughter had waned. Marius sat on the edge of the bed and took off his shoes; he then made himself comfortable on top of the covers, folding himself around Eponine's body and wrapping an arm securely about her waist.
"I'm right here; I'm not going anywhere," he whispered soothingly to her. "I won't let anyone hurt you, nor will I do so myself. Do you trust me?"
"Yes," Eponine sighed, snuggling further into Marius' embrace as she found herself wishing that he would join her under the covers. Although she had initially been wary of Marius – after all, he was still a man, even if he was the friend she had once known – his actions so far had proved him to be an honorable sort of a gentleman. He wouldn't hurt her or let any harm come to her. She was safe. A gentle smile graced her features as she sang softly to herself, her eyelids already drooping from fatigue: "I'll sleep in your embrace at last."