A/N: Happy Easter! There have been some interesting predictions made by some of you as to what's going to happen in this story. I've enjoyed reading them. ;) Some wonderful fanart has been added to my Profile, so don't miss it! It's a terrific piece from Chapter 5 (which seems to be a favorite?)

I continue to be wowed and amazed by the response to this story and am so, so grateful to you all for your reviews, recs, favs, and alerts. Please keep them coming! Your responses feed my Muse!

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 16

"In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight
And all I see is him and me forever and forever"

-Les Misérables

"You look splendid, my dear," Monsieur Gillenormand commented once the proper veil of intricate lace that trailed to the floor was placed over her head.

Éponine smiled at him through the full length mirror. This was to be her final fitting, and, whilst these appointments were normally reserved for her and Cosette alone, Monsieur Gillenormand had insisted on accompanying the ladies today, which they were all too happy to oblige.

Now that the gown fit properly and the custom-made veil had arrived, the final touches for the wedding were coming together without issue. As Éponine scanned herself thoughtfully before the mirror, her mind wandered, as it so often did, to how much good fortune had come her way. She couldn't quite believe she was standing in an upscale shop she never would have stepped into a year ago, wearing a wedding gown and about to take the plunge into marriage.

It's really happening, she reflected excitedly.

Cosette and the dresser, too, were observing the bride-to-be carefully and looking for any errors in the details, Cosette smiling enthusiastically along with Monsieur Gillenormand, who was seated beside her. Éponine was reassured by their matching expressions that this gown was the right choice.

Her satin wedding dress, draped in V-shaped folds and off-the-shoulder short sleeves, was a visual stunner to the eye. The off-white color matched Éponine's dark tresses and skin perfectly, as did the intricate lacing of her veil that Cosette had picked out, as Éponine had been too indecisive and overwhelmed to choose.

Éponine couldn't help but gawk at the sight that stared back at her in the mirror. Was this even her? Even a year later, she hardly recognized herself, clad in something so luxurious and fashionable and visually dazzling to behold.

"Not the little girl from the Parisian slums anymore, are we?" Cosette came up behind her and whispered, her smile kindhearted as she watched her friend take in her appearance.

"Indeed not," Éponine giggled, taking another moment to adjust her veil.

"If Enjolras's mouth doesn't drop to the floor at the first sight of you in this, then he's a fool, my dear," Monsieur Gillenormand nearly growled, causing both young women to laugh.

Éponine's smile spread as she gazed at the hopeful bride before her. Yes, she considered warmly, thinking on the handsome gentleman for whom this gown was really for, Enjolras will most definitely approve of this...

"I see you've read it then?"

"I did," Éponine returned, quite pleased with her accomplishment as she handed the book over to Enjolas following a late night dinner. She and her fiancé sat huddled together on the couch, whilst the Pontmercies entertained Monsieur Gillenormand with the latest news from town.

Enjolras looked over the book before arching an eyebrow. "From front to back?" he questioned, to which Éponine snickered.

"Yes, of course! And here you led me to believe it was a law book before I learned to read."

"I never suggested anything of the sort."

"Yes, well, that sly smirk of yours when you insisted I hang onto it now makes perfect sense."

Enjolras's next question, she knew, was carefully placed, even if his eyes were smiling. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Quite," Éponine teased, her cheeks blushing slightly before she nodded towards where the old man sat a few feet away. "But best put it away before Monsieur Gillenormand gets wind of it."

"You think he wouldn't approve?"

Éponine tittered some more. "He's a cheeky man but not controversial, Enjolras, you know that."

The suggestive, small smirk Enjolras gave was one that Éponine was surprised to find had as great an effect on her person now as it had the first time she took notice of it. Her insides fluttered, warmed by his attention and understated affection, even if it was in humor.

"That's true," he concurred and concealed the book from view at his side. He took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb along the inside of her palm. "How did your fitting go this afternoon?"

Éponine's eyes lit up, something Enjolras privately enjoyed. "Very well! The veil turned out splendidly. I'm grateful to Cosette." Slowly, she shifted her eyes towards their intertwined hands. "I... I'm excited for you to see me in it," she added, sensing her fiancé's intense eyes upon her.

Enjolras leaned in close to her face, his breath tickling her ear as he gently informed her, "As am I," which made her heart thrum faster against her chest.

After recovering, Éponine changed topics. "Did you and Monsieur Gillenormand discuss our arrangements?"

"We did." Enjolras leaned back a little to stare into her eyes. "I'm sure you won't be surprised to learn that the old man wasn't pleased."

Éponine frowned slightly and took a moment to admire Monsieur Gillenormand across the room, now expressively instructing Marius on the business of law in a manner that was both comically animated and endearing. She sighed and slowly shook her head.

"I knew he wouldn't take it well."

"He's rather insistent that we stay here in the house."

Éponine angled her head. "And what is your opinion, love?"

"I'm fond of this place, yes, but..."

"You think we should move on?"

Although Éponine had long sensed this change was coming—after all, she couldn't possibly remain a guest in the gentleman's home forever—her heart was still pained by the prospect of leaving. She had grown quite attached to the estate over the past year, as had Enjolras evidently—their fondness having grown even more so by the Pontmercies and Monsieur Gillenormand's warm company. The idea of leaving had begun cropping up in discussion following their engagement, and Enjolras was apparently as torn over leaving as Éponine was. She was privately thankful for that, even if she knew that moving on was inevitable.

"I'm not sure how it would be in our best interests to stay," Enjolras explained quietly, sensing how put out Éponine was and trying not to show it.

"I agree, as difficult as it is to admit."

"I know how much this place has meant to you."

Éponine gazed considerately into Enjolras's eyes, which had turned guilt-ridden and apprehensive. "I'm content to go where you go, Enjolras," she murmured with a soft smile.

"Are you certain of that?"

"Yes, of course I am."

Enjolras's mouth twitched. "I don't wish you to be unhappy is all."

"I couldn't be," she insisted with more feeling and tenderly squeezed his hand. "Not with you."

Enjolras's hardened features eased at her loving sentiment. "Nor I with you, my dear."

"Then it's settled."

"What?" Monsieur Gillenormand suddenly barked from his perch near the fireplace. "Still going on about abandoning us, are you?"

"Monsieur," Enjolras began to protest but was, unsurprisingly, cut off.

"You youngsters nowadays—thinking you've got it all figured out. Well, seeing as you've already gotten a fair taste of the world and all the remarkable qualities it has to offer, I'm surprised the pair of you would be so quick as to run out on me."

"Oh, Monsieur," Éponine implored in kind, giving him a gentle smile, "we're doing nothing of the sort—"

"Ultimately, it makes no difference," Monsieur Gillenormand pressed on through a determined growl. "Marius and I were just discussing the matter today. In fact," he turned to his grandson with that familiar twinkle of conspiring in his eyes—a look that Marius duplicated—which made Enjolras warily draw back, "what did we decide on, Marius?"

Marius, amused, regarded their friends with a triumphant smile. "That you both stay here with us. Permanently."

Enjolras blinked. "What?"

"If you're absolutely insistent on making your own way in the world rather than taking my generosity for what it's worth," Monsieur Gillenromand explained, his features stern and resolved, "then you may pay me a meager rent fee that will be used as equity in owning a portion of the estate, the amount of which I will determine and deem appropriate."

"Which would be next to nothing," Enjolras argued quietly, and for which Monsieur Gillenormand and Marius ignored him.

"You would be given the larger guest quarters on the opposite side of the house on the first floor. It's quite extensive and I think would suit you better once you're married."

"We would hire a second maid for your needs," Marius added, his smile waning a little. "Seeing as how Molly has been let go, you needn't worry any longer about her. We'll seek our own maid for the three of us."

"If that won't entice you to stick around," Monsieur Gillenormand interjected, "then, I'm afraid, Marius and I are out of clever ideas."

Enjolras and Éponine stared on in shock and appreciation, although Enjolras couldn't prevent narrowing his eyes at both men, glancing from a driven-looking Monsieur Gillenormand to a confident Marius and back again. There was no mistaking the mischievousness in their faces, much to his personal displeasure, even if he was secretly touched by their offer.

"You two have been plotting to keep us here for some time, haven't you?"

"Naturally!" came Marius's victorious-sounding reply.

Monsieur Gillenormand met Enjolras's skepticism with a persistence all his own. "Surely, you didn't think we would let you both go so easily?"

Deeply touched by the old man's sentiments, Éponine couldn't help but grin enthusiastically. The idea was perfect and appeased the ache in her heart.

Eager to resolve the matter, she compressed Enjolras's hand and peered over at him with hope and longing in her countenance that made disputing the offer difficult for her husband-to-be. Taking in her reaction, Enjolras found himself caving into the young lady's wishes.

"Monsieur, you've already been so kind to us—" he started, but the elderly gentleman adamantly waved away his compliment.

"Spare me," he quipped, the glimmer in his eyes still present. "You're to soon officially become extensions of my family, as far as I'm concerned, and I, Marius, and Cosette want you to stay with us. This is where you belong; it's your home now. Will you accept my offer, if nothing else but to appease a poor, lonely old man in his autumn years?"

Enjolras shared an understated exchange with Marius, who was doing his best to suppress his laughter at his grandfather's humorously overt goading. Enjolras turned to the brunette at his side and her open expression of want was vividly clear. It wasn't at all like Enjolras to accept charity, even if he knew this was something else entirely: it was sentimental, and the sense of belonging the exiled freedom fighter and his former miserable experienced in that moment was acute.

Enjolras sighed and offered Monsieur Gillenormand the most reserved scowl of appreciation he could muster. "You're most gracious, Monsieur."

"Is that as close to a resigned 'yes' as I'm to expect?"

Éponine broke out into giggles and prodded Enjolras's side, thereby bringing out a more amenable expression from the man. "Very well," he finally agreed, though his voice was slightly muffled.

That was all the rest of the household needed to hear. Requesting that a bottle of wine be brought into the parlor to celebrate, Monsieur Gillenormand proceeded to boast over the good news, and to no one's distemper. They merrily toasted the couple and continued chattering excitedly about their permanent stay in the home.

Éponine settled in next to her accommodating fiancé, who still appeared slightly torn over the matter, but the high regard he bestowed for their friends was obvious. She, too, surveyed him fondly for the rest of the evening.

Enjolras detected the door opening, though he was already half dozing by the time Éponine decided to sneak into his room. It had become an almost nightly affair in the weeks leading up to their nuptials, and the will not to touch one another in a manner that could quickly escalate things to something beyond either of their control was tempting, if not maddening, and difficult to avoid.

Tonight, Enjolras was content to fall back asleep, however, though his mouth crept into a faint smile when he heard some muffled shuffling near the bed, followed by the familiar feel of Éponine's petite frame drawing back the sheets and sneaking into bed beside him. She was evidently trying not to wake him, thinking he was already asleep; but the feel of several long hairs brushing against his shoulder, followed by a pair of dainty arms weaving themselves around his midsection would have woken him, regardless. The penetrating heat of their entangled limbs was more than enough, especially on such a hot summer's eve.

"Are you asleep?" Éponine whispered after a moment or two, her breaths tickling the nape of his neck.

"Almost," Enjolras mumbled sleepily into his pillow, making her titter and snuggle closer. He didn't object or push her away.

"I'm sorry."

The window was open to allow a welcoming breeze into the room. The cool air felt divine against their skin as they started to doze off; or, at least, Enjolras was nearly there. However, Éponine lay fully awake at his side, pondering their upcoming wedding amongst other happy fortunes that were falling into place, including the very real notion that they wouldn't be leaving the Gillenormand estate any time soon. Not only would they continue to have a roof over their heads, but they would staying here, a place that had been their home for some time, though neither had ever wanted to call it such.

Enjolras was on the verge of unconsciousness when Éponine's small voice broke the stillness, startling him out of his doze. "Thank you," she offered unexpectedly.

"For what?" Disoriented, Enjolras's eyelashes fluttered before crashing shut.

"For agreeing to stay. I... I'm glad to not be going."

"I know you are."

"Are you content to stay, though?" She paused, anxiously waiting on his answer. "I don't want you to be unhappy either..."

That brought Enjolras around. He shifted his legs beneath the sheets, allowing Éponine to wedge hers further in between. It felt somewhat strange to be so intimate, and yet, to not have taken things any further; but the couple took what warm comforts they could from each other now, fully aware and anticipating what was to come as their wedding drew nearer. It was now only days away.

"I'm not unhappy, Éponine," he insisted, feeling her upper body ease into his with relief.

"You're certain?"

"Of course." He strained to turn his head and make out her face in the darkness. "Why? What's troubling you?"

"Nothing, I... I just don't want you to feel obligated is all. I know you wanted to move on and start over—"

"Éponine," he smirked at her visible uncertainty, finding it quite childlike and captivating, "go to sleep, would you?"

Before she could say anything else, Enjolras lightly captured her lips and twisted about under the sheets to face her. Éponine scooted closer and nudged herself comfortably against his chest, her arms draped around him as he sought to bundle her in his arms.

Éponine sighed contentedly. It wasn't long before they were both sleeping soundly, with no nightmares or past transgressions to haunt them—not whilst burrowed complacently into each other's snug embrace.

What a day! Éponine reflected as she and Cosette climbed down from their horse-drawn carriage, returning home from more preparations for the wedding. Éponine mainly allowed Cosette to take charge of the details, finding the picking of the bouquet or decorations for the ceremony too tedious to decide on.

They're just going to wither and die, she considered with a shrug, reserving her opinions for herself. Besides, she concluded happily, Cosette's much better at this sort of thing.

Enjolras had joined them to take part in some of what he also considered to be "tiresome" planning, and did so only to appease his future wife. Following their meeting, he went on to Monsieur Gillenormand's law firm with Marius to discuss preparations for the school he intended to open in the fall. Locations had been scouted, and Enjolras had settled on a building not far from the former old ABC café, which surprised Éponine when he broke the news to her days earlier. She couldn't help but shudder at the unsettling sense of irony about it all. As long as Enjolras was content with the decision, however, Éponine wouldn't dissuade the man or the dreams he had in mind.

Éponine and Cosette retreated to the dining area, where Molly was busy setting the place for dinner. She looked more than a tad flustered by the ladies' unexpected intrusion when they strolled in unannounced.

"The men won't be back for at least another hour or two, Molly," Cosette reassured the baffled-looking maid. "In the meantime, we'll take some tea, if you please."

"Certainly, Madame."

Molly bowed and scurried out of the room, leaving the two ladies to themselves. She didn't even eye Éponine crossly as she usually did, something the Mademoiselle was rather thankful for. Though the two didn't clash as much these days, an unmistakable tension still hovered in the air whenever they came in contact with each other. The uneasy tension was sorely felt by the Pontmercies and Monsieur Gillenormand as well. Éponine noticed that Molly paid her far less mind than she once had when it became apparent to her friends, and she was also grateful for their subtle methods of dealing with the matter, whatever they were.

Dinner would later pass by in its normal fashion, though much of the talk revolved around wedding plans and Enjolras's dreams for his new school. Éponine would chime in with her own views now and then, appreciative of Enjolras routinely seeking her opinion or approval on matters she normally wouldn't have been allowed to speak on.

Not in my old life, she pondered cheerfully. Then again, that's Enjolras.

Throughout dinner, Éponine couldn't stop herself from happily reflecting on the wonderfully passionate man she was about to marry. She never expected to find herself in a marriage based on equality rather than that of the woman's submissive role as the housewife and mother. She couldn't have been more pleased or appreciative of the gentleman at her side, who not only clearly respected her person but valued her mind and ideas.

As they all headed into the parlor following dinner, Éponine was interrupted from her thoughts by Tom, who approached her and Enjolras as they were about to enter the parlor with the rest of their party. "Pardon me, Mademoiselle," he apologized with a formal bow, looking a bit shaken, "but you have an unexpected caller at the door. He appears to be a rather...unfortunate gentleman."

"Unfortunate?" Enjolras questioned, his brow furrowed.

"He's unpresentable, Monsieur, which is why I haven't let him in."

Enjolras and Éponine exchanged bewildered looks. "Who is it?" she inquired with heightened curiosity.

"I'm afraid he wouldn't say; he was rather reluctant to give his name. He only said that it was a matter of urgency and that he needed to speak to you, Mademoiselle."

"Did he ask for me by name?"

"Yes."

To Enjolras, the man in question, whomever he was, wasn't enough to entice him to allow Éponine to be led away from their party. He wove an arm around her back and started to draw her away to rejoin the others.

"Tell him that it's late and that my fiancé is otherwise engaged," he insisted, but Éponine gently took his arm.

"If it's urgent, I should probably see who it is, shouldn't I?"

"I don't see why, especially if the gentleman won't give his name."

"I don't believe he's a gentleman at all, Monsieur," Tom spoke up, appearing more than a tad unsettled.

Eponine's curiosity increased tenfold, along with her apprehensions. Someone from her old life...

Here? Who could it be?

"I'll come and see for myself," she replied, to which Enjolras stiffened.

"Then I'll come with you."

"It's fine, Enjolras," Éponine giggled at his seriousness and shrugged off his efforts. "Don't bother. I can handle myself. Whoever it is, maybe they need something, and if I can help... I'll just be a moment."

Enjolras wasn't appeased but politely did as Éponine asked, retreating into the parlor and shutting the door behind him. Tom silently escorted her to the entryway, where he then bowed and took his leave to give her privacy with whoever was waiting for her.

The door was slightly ajar but obstructed Éponine's view of the unknown visitor in question. Éponine approached the door with caution, unsure as to who it could possibly be, and could only pray that her instincts were wrong.

As Éponine opened the door, she nearly collapsed to her knees right then and there. She threw her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from losing her nerve. An enormous sense of dread swept over her and she nearly crumbled against the door frame at the sight of the person standing before her.

A grimy, rough-looking older man with bristling hair, a beard, and unsettling, dark eyes stared back at her, abrasive and unhinged. His scent smelled appallingly of piss and sewage, his clothes were nothing but filthy rags, and he was missing several teeth. The devilish smile that emerged on his black-soiled face was enough to cause Éponine to whimper. In that moment, all contentment was lost, replaced by darkness and trepidation.

"'ello, sweetheart," he greeted with mocked sincerity. "What's the matter? Aren't you pleased to see me again?"

He anticipated her slamming the door in his face before she could do so and snatched her by her face, dragging her out of the entryway with a forceful pull she was physically too weak to fight. He slammed her hard against the wall and threw a hand over her mouth to keep her from crying out.

"You listen here, my little hussy, and you listen good. The party's over. You're goin' to do what I tell you or face the consequences, and, believe me, that ain't somethin' you want."

Enjolras sat in the parlor room twirling his glass of wine in hand when Éponine crept inside. He immediately zoned in on her hand, which appeared to be nursing her jaw. He flew out of his chair and reached her before she had barely stepped through the doorway.

Monsieur Gillenormand and the Pontmercies peered over at her curiously. "Who was that, my dear?" the old man asked, glancing at her over his shoulder.

"No one of importance, Monsieur."

Enjolras detected the quiver in her voice, as well as the fear in her eyes that she was trying to subdue, but when he opened his mouth to ask, she instantly shut him down. "Please, not now," she whispered, keeping her voice too low to be overheard.

Enjolras narrowed his eyes, bewildered. "Who was it?"

"No one important."

"Éponine, you're—"

"It's nothing."

The anger mixed with confusion started to manifest in Enjolras's eyes. He took her by the arms and tugged her close, noting how she grew alarmingly skittish to his touch and tried to wiggle free.

"What on earth is the matter?" he pressed with more urgency.

"I - I'm sorry. I have a headache. I don't feel well and would like to lie down."

Overhearing her wishes, Cosette started to rise from the couch. "Éponine, are you all right? You're looking a little pale."

"I'm not well, no. I – I think I'll retire for the evening.

"Éponine!" Enjolras called after her, but she flew out of the room before he could prevent her escape.

"What one earth just happened?" Monsieur Gillenormand demanded in amazement. Marius, too, had shot off the couch at Éponine's visible distress, all of them staring after the spot that she disappeared.

"I should go try to speak to her," Enjolras responded, more to himself than to any of them. He started to leave the room when Cosette unexpectedly called him back.

"I wouldn't, Enjolras. She's clearly upset and wishes to be alone. Let her be."

"But—"

"She's received a shock; best to give her some time to get over whatever's troubling her. I'm sure she'll tell us in the morning."

Enjolras, torn between staying or going, stared at the door, as if trying to will Éponine to reappear. Whatever had just happened, she was clearly distraught, so much so that she couldn't speak to him about it.

What the hell was that all about?

Éponine didn't come to him that night. There were several times Enjolras considered going to her room, banging on the door, and requesting that she let him in; but such behavior was a folly, not to mention untoward. He would have to wait till morning.

Not that that ensured him a solid night's rest. Spending the night alone in bed made Enjolras keenly aware of how much better he truly rested with Éponine next to him. He tossed and turned, eventually staring out the window and giving up on sleep altogether. He hoped he might hear one of Éponine's nightmares, as that would prompt an excuse for leaving his room to seek her out, but such said wishes were never granted, and a sound never echoed down the hall to cause him to stir.

With a burdensome sigh, Enjolras rolled onto his side away from the window after a time and curled up into a fetal position. No, she definitely wasn't visiting tonight. Enjolras closed his eyes and tried to clear his head, though there seemed little point in trying. Éponine—his fiancé—consumed his thoughts, and with good reason. Tonight, however, they were plagued by angst and confusion rather than their usual peace and serenity.

Finally, Enjolras's mind grew weary and caved in to sleep at last. As his mind drifted into a state of unconsciousness, Enjolras was vaguely aware of a few subtle noises during his few blissful hours of slumber. He thought he identified a door opening and closing, though he was too far gone to open his eyes. He never sensed her crawling into bed beside him, so, later, he had to assume it hadn't actually occurred. He also suspected a light brush to his forehead—something warm and soothing that touched his skin, like a loving kiss. One of her kisses.

No, that must have been in his head, too.

Later that morning, as Enjolras strolled down the hallway to the staircase that led to the first floor, he paused and apprehensively eyed Éponine's bedroom, more than a little tempted to knock on her door, if only to ensure that she was all right. He lingered for much longer than he realized, but, eventually, his legs quietly descended the steps.

Enjolras prayed he might find Éponine already up and at breakfast, seeing as he was off to a bit of a late start himself after staying up half the night worrying. To his dismay, however, she was nowhere to be found when he made his appearance.

Besides Éponine's lack of presence, something else was troubling when he entered the room. Monsieur Gillenormand was seated at the head of the table like always, though the Pontmercies were both standing nearby where their backs to him. They were huddled close together and whispering excitedly when the blond gentleman came walking in. His presence caught their attention. Marius stepped aside to reveal a distressed-looking Molly, who was wringing parts of her apron together in her hands and was on the verge of tears.

Enjolras's eyes swept over the distraught faces of those before him, all paler than normal. His heart thumped too quickly, especially once Marius made his way towards him, the visible panic evident in his friend's brown eyes. Marius leaned in close and took Enjolras firmly by the arm.

"Enjolras," he issued in a frantic whisper, "Éponine's gone."

A/N #2: Was some of this plot predictable? Probably. But hopefully I've woven in a few surprises for you to come.

And yes, there is a reason Molly is still around (since a couple of you asked.) You'll get an explanation in the next chapter.