A/N: My apologies for the delay. Personal matters have kept me from what I love, and just editing this chapter seemed to take all of my long weekend, so my Muse is struggling. However, it's finally here.

In the absence of my regular posting schedule, I've managed to string together a video for this story. The link is on my Profile under Media Content. Feel free to check it out!

Disclaimer: Les Misérables is copyrighted to and belongs to Victor Hugo. I'm just playing in his sandbox and receive no financial gain from this. Rats.

Chapter 15

"Take my love, for love is everlasting"

-Les Misérables

The dramatic weather of May arrived and, with it, a reckless combination of rain mixed with sunshine, its decision as to which way the day would turn unpredictable. With the warming of the season, however, also came the increasing heat in Enjolras's and Éponine's relationship, and in a manner that had little to do with the turbulent weather.

Holding hands whilst strolling the house, the gardens or the vibrant upperclass streets of Paris were frequent, arm in arm escorts to more balls and dinner parties were regular, and not only did their courting became a steadfast occurrence in Monsieur Gillenormand's house but it also became public knowledge to the rest of high society as well.

In what had become a ritual of sorts—ambling the length of the house during the mid-morning breaks from her lessons—Éponine and Enjolras grew closer, both mentally and physically, though their nightly bed-sharing remained their own little secret.

One late afternoon following an outing with Cosette to town, Éponine caught up with Enjolras, who was roaming the house without company. After asking Éponine how her afternoon had gone, a gesture Éponine found she appreciated more than he probably knew, she turned the tables on him with a question that had been on her mind for some time.

"How will you teach and support yourself?"

Enjolras eyed her sidelong with his arms latched behind his back. Discussions regarding their futures were still a rare subject, as it seemed neither wanted to jinx the possibility of a future together. Sure, their affections had been established, but life beyond recovery and, eventually, moving forward normally went untouched.

Then again, Enjolras, the thought briefly passed him by, what are you waiting for?

"I've considered opening a school for the under privileged rather than seek employment through any of the established institutions."

"Are they not up to the standards you seek?"

"No, not at all. They're severely lacking in all manner of supplies and money. I know I could provide better and secure appropriate tutors myself if I were at the reigns rather than at the beck and call of someone else.

"Monsieur Gillenormand and I have been discussing my plans in great detail. I think we may be able to begin preparations as early as the summer."

Éponine smiled warmly at the thought of the stubborn older gentleman having a hand in the matter. "So, he's come around to your decision then?" She had observed the two, along with Marius, on more than several occasions following dinners with their heads huddled in the parlor, outlining Enjolras's plans for the future, whilst she and Cosette sat back and smirked from afar.

"Somewhat," Enjolras returned with an amused, half-cocked smile.

"He cares about you immensely. I suppose he just needed time to understand and see your vision."

"Yes, he did. To Monsieur Gillenormand's credit, he's adapted greatly since his grandson came back into his life."

"You're right, he has. It can't be easy with so much change happening all around him."

"No," Enjolras concurred quietly. "The world he once knew and admired is slipping away. One has to adapt to survive. Change is coming, and he can't sit by and be a spectator forever."

"No, he can't."

"And you?"

Éponine smiled pleasantly up at him. "What about me?"

"What would you like to do with your newfound education?"

"Oh! Well..."

Enjolras fully turned his head towards her. "If you could do anything, what would it be?"

Éponine considered his question thoughtfully; no one had ever bothered to ask her before what she wanted to do with her own life. It had never felt truly hers to begin with, and it wasn't the first time Éponine had shared her aspirations for the future with Enjolras, particularly since admitting their attraction to one another all those months ago; but it still left her breathless to even be asked her opinion, and by a man, when that had never been the case all her life.

After walking in a comfortable silence for a minute or two, Éponine's smile spread across her rose-colored cheeks. "I'd love to help you with your school, actually." Surveying his unanimated, quiet reaction, Éponine continued softly, "I may not be permitted to teach, but I could assist in other ways, if you would allow it of me. I have an extensive knowledge of the city, as you know; I can still recall it like the back of my hand. I know where all the safe havens and refuges are, where the poor can get access to basic provisions and food as I did, when I could. I could supply those in need with resources to help them get back on their feet. What do you think?"

Enjolras paused to think on Éponine's proposal; a glint of awareness and excitement soon illuminated his bright eyes, followed by the rest of his striking features.

"That's a marvelous idea, Éponine! We could surely use someone with your expertise. How had I not thought of it before?"

Éponine grinned broadly as she witnessed the passion and eagerness returning to the gentleman at her side. His hands withdrew from behind his back, his entire body reacting animatedly to her idea.

"Providing a meager education isn't enough. No, not at all. They'll need more than that. You're absolutely right!" He halted their walk to face her head on again, staring down at her with a most appreciative, considerate expression. "I would be honored if you would help me with that, Éponine."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Éponine's brown eyes lit up like a flame. "In that case, I'd love to!"

"And as a partner," Enjolras added, which made Éponine's feet mold to the ground. She gaped up at him, unsure.

"A partner?" she stuttered. "You mean... As your equal?"

"Yes, of course. Why not?"

"But - But I'm a woman," she blurted out before she could stop herself; Enjolras's alluring, robust laughter sent a severe blush trickling onto her cheeks.

"Times are changing, Éponine. You know that. It won't be discrimination and oppression forever. No, wait and see..."

Once more, his statement was an echo of the enthusiastic, liberty driven Enjolras that Éponine remembered, and it brought her further contentedness to hear. How far he had come in nearly a year since the barricade.

How far we both have come.

Éponine leaned into him, thrilled when his arms came to wrap themselves around her back and tug her close. Locking her hands around his waist, she stretched her neck upward to plant an affirmative kiss on his lips. She soon lost sense of where they were, as the magnitude of their smoldering exchange intensified in seconds.

Hands captured hair, fingers grazed faces, sighs and moans echoed in the empty hallway as their bodies melted into one another's. Éponine was soon pressed against the wall with a jutting knee wedged between her thighs. Her breathing was reckless when she pulled away from him, as was his.

Would kissing the man always be like this, so zealous and arresting and leave her with a throbbing ache she couldn't suppress? Éponine's body yearned for more—so much more—and, judging by the simmering look in Enjolras's eyes, their passionate kisses held the same arresting effect on him as well.

"Please..." she found herself whimpering close to his face.

Enjolras's eyes flickered before he leaned in to kiss her again, his tongue slipping inside her mouth as his knee brushed harder against the heat of her sex. "Éponine?" she vaguely heard him utter; his tender whispering of her name sent a tingle down her spine.

His moistened lips soon moved from her mouth to her cheek to capture her jaw line, mapping their way along it slowly, deliberately. Éponine gasped, unable to speak.

"Would you..." he started and then stopped.

"Would I what?" she managed to get out breathlessly.

Enjolras's mouth moved away from her face, and the festering look in his eyes nearly caused Éponine to lose her bearings. "If I made you mine," he murmured, his voice low and a bit breathless, "would you have me?"

"I thought I was yours now?"

Éponine smiled wryly at him and leaned in to capture his lower lip, sinking her teeth in lightly, her eyes locked on his all the while. After matching her smile, he inched his forehead against hers and regarded her seriously.

"Do you know of what I'm asking, Éponine?"

A lump caught in the back of Eponine's throat. The room was suddenly spinning, and Éponine could hardly contain the fast thrumming of her beating heart.

"I... I think so..."

Enjolras's fingers delicately dug into her hips, his chest brushing against her heaving chest. With a tender expression, he affectionately kissed her forehead, and Éponine found herself weightless, willingly leaning into the softness of his lips.

"Then would you have me, Éponine?" came his proposal in an engrossing whisper, as she smiled with her eyes closed. "Would you marry me?"

Slowly, Éponine's eyes opened and peered up into his. Although bereft of words, Éponine was sure of one thing: she wouldn't stop smiling from this moment onward. No matter what obstacles came their way, and she was certain there would be more hurdles to face in their future, she was no longer alone.

No longer on my own...

Swallowing against the persistent fluttering in her stomach, Éponine kissed Enjolras again—this time in earnest—before managing to get out a winded "Yes," to his romantic proposal. Their lips extended against one another's, smiling brightly that they had found a future in each other. There was nothing more to be said.

Molly huffed her way to the kitchens at full speed. Monsieur Pontmercy had informed her earlier that he wished for a particularly lavishing meal to be prepared for that evening's meal, as "some exciting news would be forthcoming." What news, Molly wasn't unsure, though the thought of the Madame Pontmercy's expecting immediately came to mind. She had been tempted to ask Marius outright, but, really, that wasn't her place, no matter how long she had served the family.

After gathering all necessary food and ingredients, Molly took a moment to relieve herself from the kitchen's restraints. She still needed to clean the parlor, and there was also the library that was in need of a good dusting.

Throwing a somewhat clean rag over her shoulder, and with a feather duster in hand, Molly headed out of the kitchen in the direction of the parlor room. She had turned a corner and headed down the hallway when a sight at the opposite end made her halt in her tracks and throw herself against the wall.

Two figures, huddled in shadow, seemed unable to keep their hands off one another, for they were kissing and touching each other's faces excitedly. When the gentleman finally drew back, Molly recognized the pair of them instantly: that dangerous Monsieur and damned Mademoiselle!

How Éponine had managed to stay in the Pontmercies good graces after her disgraceful frequent bedroom trips to Enjolras's room were beyond the grumpy maid's understanding, but she suspected that the freedom fighter had to have possessed a hand in keeping her from getting kicked out on her arse. It was no secret that the two were in love, and time spent at the house had allowed Molly to gather more information about her ill wanted guests.

Enjolras was an upstanding citizen, despite his political associations, but the Mademoiselle was most certainly was not. That, in and of itself, was common knowledge to Molly, but the connection she held with the notorious Thernardiers wasn't, and most surprising to learn indeed.

Through various lowly sources, Molly learned of Marius's telling them to leave Paris. Whatever threats he had used, they supposedly worked, although the knowledge that didn't run in the lower circles of Paris but was common knowledge now to Molly was that they had never been paid their proper wages for the taking of their daughter.

As Molly inched closer to the couple, making a point of being as discrete as possible, she heard the foolish man's declaration that made her heart thump in her chest. A proposal? Marriage?

He's a bigger fool than I thought! Molly tried not to snigger, watching as they eventually moved away from each other, with the gentleman leading her onward down the hallway by the arm. They soon disappeared, looking as happy and content as could be.

Not for long, Molly sneered before disappearing into the parlor with a confident smirk of her own.

Announcing their engagement to Monsieur Gillenormand and the Pontmercies went over with merry toasting and celebration. Marius and Cosette couldn't be happier for their friends, and Monsieur Gillenormand looked upon their union as adopting "more members into the family!"

"What sort of ring will you take?" Cosette asked eagerly, hitting Éponine with an endless barrage of questions regarding her upcoming wedding for what would turn into the next several weeks.

"I'm not sure," Éponine confessed.

She hadn't really thought much about the actual details of the ceremony until Cosette thrust them at her—the wedding gown, the ring, the church they would choose for the occasion. She and Enjolras only knew of one certainty: they wanted the reception at the Gillenormand estate, perhaps outside in the garden if good weather permitted, and only with close friends and family present. After all, it was where their paths had brought them together, so having the ceremony at the house seemed the only suitable place for it.

As the days trickled by and the wedding plans began to fall into place, Éponine found her mind wandering to the new chapter of her life that awaited her. She had gone from one of the miserables to a Mademoiselle to a fiancé, all within a year.

How quickly life can change, she found herself mediating often, joyful at the prospects her new life now afforded her.

After arriving home from a gown fitting, Éponine decided to take in some light reading before reemerging for dinner. A thought suddenly came to her, and she hurried off to her room with an extra skip in her step.

Upon entering her room, she situated herself comfortably on her bed, pulling her knees up in an unladylike fashion to bring a book into her lap that was lying on her end table. She turned it over in her hands and smiled at the cover; she had read its title many times: Les Liaisons dangereuses.

Éponine opened to the page she had left off at. Ever since Enjolras insisted that she hold onto the book all those months ago, when he first presented her with the opportunity to learn to read and write, Éponine had taken up to trying to read it in her spare time. It took ages, however, because she would truly come to understand the words. It was an art—a practice—she perfected in quiet moments when she couldn't sleep or had time to herself. Enjolras had never inquired after the book, and Éponine was grateful, for she was becoming highly engrossed in the storyline.

Of course Enjolras would read something like this, Éponine snorted after she had gotten through several chapters worth. The book was still considered to be "scandalous material" by the whole of France, but that was part of the intrigue, and undoubtedly part of Enjolras's intellectual rebellion. Seduction, revenge, sex... What's not to like? she mused, though the notion that the stern, serious Enjolras—her Enjolras now—liked this sort of tale intrigued (and shocked) her even more.

Parts of the story were deliciously rich, causing an extreme blush to form on Éponine's cheeks. It was in these moments that Éponine would often pause, knowing it wasn't really this gripping story that had her gnashing her teeth together but the thought of her and the handsome Frenchman with golden locks in the throes of ecstasy that the book would trigger.

She had never experienced romantic sex. The unfortunate sex of her youth had been scarring, damaging, and painful on too many levels to count. Admittedly, sex now frightened her a bit. She found herself wondering if the act was always meant to be rushed, harsh, and hurtful. What would that very intimate part of their marriage be like?

Surely, better than in the past.

Éponine immensely enjoyed kissing the man, for one. His warm lips sent a series of sparks through her body—a flood of heat and energy—she couldn't describe. Surely, that was a sign of their chemistry, and a positive suggestion of what was to come?

Yes, it must be...

Slowly, that craving, that unmistakable urge to be fulfilled on a tormented physical plane, started gnawing at Éponine's curiosity. As shying and nerve-wracking as sex was to her, considering that it had never been pleasant—or desired—in the past, she wanted to feel Enjolras rocking inside her now, to see if those sparks would ignite into full blown fireworks throughout her body.

The sexual tension that had long lingered beneath the surface was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Holding hands in the middle of the night now wasn't enough. A few times already Enjolras had permitted Éponine to lie with him in bed, but there was a guardedness in those moments that wasn't intimate like it should be. Éponine knew why, only she disliked that it had to be that way at all.

"We are getting married, aren't we?" she would challenge him quietly, to which he would insist that they would be intimate when the time was right.

"I won't take you before we're married, Éponine. It's out of respect for you that I'm doing my utmost best to control myself."

That was most certainly evident a few mornings prior when Éponine awoke to a peacefully slumbering Enjolras laying behind her, one arm draped over her waist and holding her hand, and something else that brushed up against her behind. Éponine went rigid at first but then relaxed and decided it best not to draw attention to Enjolras's morning erection when it was time to disappear back to her room.

"Where are you going?" he mumbled drowsily as she slipped away from the comforts of his warm bed, even though it was not yet dawn.

"I still don't trust Molly," she fibbed, delicately urged Enjolras to go back to sleep, which he did without issue, and tiptoed out of his quarters and back to her own, suppressing a smile all the way.

Éponine didn't want to leave him alone. Far from it. But if he doesn't want to be intimate with me yet, then he's making it damn hard on us both! That morning, Éponine struggled back into her own bed that was appropriately cold and unwelcoming, snuggling into nothing but her pillow and blankets for comfort.

Éponine blinked and drew out of her reflections, feeling a precious, sweltering ache forming between her legs. Damn it! she huffed and quickly gave up on her reading material. Perhaps a brisk walk will set my mind to right.

Éponine strolled out of her bedroom in haste and trampled down the stairs, walking fast in the hopes of bottling up her sexual appetite once again. A couple more weeks, Éponine told herself as she picked up her pace. Just a couple more weeks. She couldn't help but wonder if Enjolras was busy suppressing the same urges she was trying so desperately to control, and failing just as miserably.

A/N #2: Did anyone remember the elusive book Enjolras gave Éponine several chapters ago?

Five chapters remain, if I can get them written. I'm about half way there.