A/N: Hello again :) I'd like to apologize for the longer writing time...things got a bit hectic in my life with my mom's car breaking down and having to shop for a new one, plus I didn't have any brilliant inspirations (I don't generally plan my stories out because when I do...as is the case with "Silence" *see my profile...I often find myself wanting to skip to the ending!). But here I am, forcing myself to at least write a paragraph a day until I get a brilliant streak of motivation. Also I didn't get quite as many reviews, though lots of followers that I appreciate in the fullest! I move in to my new dorm in only 19 days and I have an audition for "Spring Awakening" coming up too! So yay for musical theatre (the first of 5 shows I'm auditioning for this year, having not been in a show since July). So without further ado, please enjoy Chapter 4!
As Eponine traveled in the direction of the retreating Cosette and her father, the cold wind reminded her that it wasn't yet summer, despite the date on the calendar. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the ground, forgetting the need to eat and forgetting anything other than her lost love. Her injuries from Montparnasse no longer bothered her, since she had built such a high tolerance for pain and the hunger she felt was minimal. But despite the ache in her heart, she knew that she had to follow the Lark to discover where she lived. She was cautious, knowing that her father and his goons could be out looking for her anywhere. So she blended and stayed amongst the shadows as she finally caught sight of the pair again, following them discreetly all the way to Number Five, Rue Plumet. As the two walked into the small, quaint house, Eponine pressed her forehead against the iron gate. Inside of it was a garden...the Lark's garden. It was filled with beautiful flowers and climbing vines and butterflies fluttering everything. It was exactly the kind of garden Cosette was born to care for and live in. Everything in it was graceful and delicate, everything Eponine was not. Even as a spoiled child, she had never been graceful nor delicate.
With a sigh, Eponine turned to leave quickly before she was spotted by anyone. She could tell it was at least noon, though she didn't know how Cosette and her new Papa could have spent four hours walking amongst the slums to help the gamines like herself. Eponine knew where she would find Marius after he got out of class, so she headed in the general direction of the Cafe Musain. While she walked, certain thoughts flew through her head. What if I pretend I couldn't find her, or her house? Would he see me then? What if I just told him she moved away? Would he forget about her and turn, instead, to me? Eponine knew these thoughts were useless, though. Marius had fallen head over heels for Cosette. Denying him Cosette would only bring him heartbreak; he would feel what Eponine felt everyday, but Eponine did not wish that on him. She loved him with every fiber of her essence. She would do anything in the world for him simply because he asked, and because she knew it would bring happiness to him. As she entered the Cafe there was only a few of the guys from the previous day there. She recognized the drunkard, the man who had been spouting love poetry the previous night, and Courfeyrac who had introduced himself to her the day before.
"Ah Mademoiselle Eponine! Always a pleasure," Courfeyrac called to her as he saw her come up the stairs. Eponine chuckled.
"Monsieur Courfeyrac I have told you before I am no Mademoiselle," she shook her head with a smile. It was easy to forget her troubles around the spirited Les Amis.
"Courf, who is your lovely friend? She is a lady, if not a mademoiselle," the man clasping the bottle with the wild black curls stood and sauntered over to Eponine, taking her hand and placing a kiss on it. "I am Grantaire, the resident court jester and drunkard extraordinaire." Eponine fought the urge to spit as she smelled the strong scent of brandy on his breath. She knew that he was nothing like her father, but the scent of alcohol had become one she detested with a vengeance.
"And I am Eponine," she took her hand back sharply, but tolerated the man with the easy smile and the clouded eyes.
"This fool is Jean Prouvaire," Courfeyrac gestured to the third man in the room, a man with sparkling eyes and neat, sleek hair.
"But please call me Jehan. You, Eponine, are like a rose. A beauty hidden behind it's thorns," he professed before nodding and writing something frantically in a small journal he had in his hands. She could not stop the chuckle that escaped her lips.
"Oh I am hardly beautiful Monsieur Jehan, but I appreciate the words of honey," she sat down at the table beside where Courfeyrac had philosophy books layed out.
"Nonsense ma belle! You, unlike many of the lovely ladies in this town, have long flowing hair and all of your teeth!" Courfeyrac laughed and Eponiner rolled her eyes in an easy response. She sat beside the boys, chatting, and meeting the rest as they piled in. There was Feuilly, the only member that was expressly not a student who made fans for a living; Joly, a medical student with a thousand worries over germs and viruses; Combeferre, another medical student who was much more relaxed than the former and seemed to be second in command to Enjolras; Bahorel, who never explained whether he was a student or not and mostly made a point of displaying his rather prominent muscles; and there was Bosseut who was a student of philosophy like Courfeyrac, though he was convinced that Lady Luck must find him repulsive. Of course once the room was full of loud boys, all excited over their new female friend who had been invited by their leader, Eponine snuck to the shadows to wait for Marius. It was later in the evening, though, that she was sought out by someone else.
"Hello Eponine," the man greeted her simply as he found her waiting against the wall, much like she had been the previous tonight. "I'm glad to see you came."
"I said I would," she replied sharply, not looking at him fully. "Ask what you need to ask Monsieur Enjolras, because I've got things to do," she added.
"They cannot wait an hour?" Enjolras frowned, frustratingly reminding himself why he did not generally deal with women.
"Not if an hour is going to turn into a three hour meeting, no," Eponine refused once more as she thought of how incredibly unpleasant it would be to spend another night on the ground outside in the chilled spring air. If she wanted to find a better place to stay she needed to find it before dusk.
"You have my word, then," he nodded and left her alone.
"PONTMERCY! The tortured soul himself has returned," Grantaire called out and Eponine's head snapped toward the stairs, where sure enough Marius Pontmercy was trudging into the room. His eyes lit up, though, when he saw Eponine. As he rushed toward her, she pretended for a moment that he was excited to see her just to see her, and not because he wanted to ask her of Cosette. The fantasy ended quickly, though.
"Ponine! Did you find her?" he asked, grabbing her arms and staring into her eyes with eagerness. She blinked slowly before giving him a small smile.
"Oui Monsieur Marius, I did," she nodded.
"Oh Eponine I shall never doubt you again!" he clasped his hands to his heart dramatically and spun around.
"You see, I told you. There's lots of things I know," Eponine proclaimed proudly, reminding herself a little of Gavroche.
"Yes Ponine, but will you take me to her?" he begged. For a moment, Eponine was about to nod her head in defeat, but she paused. Rue Plumet was closer to the Gorbeau house than she should have gone before and it would be stupid of her to go there again, especially in the same day. After a few moments of careful thought, the words that came out of her mouth surprised not only herself, but Marius as well.
"No."
"But Eponine-
"It is Number 5, Rue Plumet. Surely you know where that is, or one of your friends does. I cannot go there tonight Monsieur Marius. I have to do something...I promised your friend Monsieur Enjolras," she fought the blush that rose to her cheeks.
"You promised to do something for Enjolras?" Marius frowned, glancing at the revolutionary leader who was deep in conversation with Combeferre.
"Oui, for the good of the revolution Marius," she nodded, confirming his thoughts.
"I didn't know you were interested in the revolution," he laughed, as though it were a ridiculous thought. It angered Eponine that he should think so little of her.
"And why shouldn't I be?" she stuck her hands on her hips defiantly.
"No, no Eponine. I didn't mean that you shouldn't be! I just didn't know. Please, don't be angry Ponine," Marius looked frightened for a moment.
"Alright," she gave in with a sigh just as Enjolras called the meeting to order. He kept his promise to Eponine, keeping his speech short. There was not much they could do without the right moment so for now his speeches were meant to inspire people to spread the revolutionary seed and plant it in others. His friends cheered and applauded when he finished, chanting 'Vive le Revolution! Vive le France!'. He found his way over to Eponine, who was sitting on a stool less in the shadows with her lips pursed. She had done her best to be open minded to Enjolras' speech, but she was not impressed as his friends were.
"So what were your thoughts on tonight's proposals?" he asked, standing next to her with her arms folded.
"I stand my ground, Monsieur Enjolras. The words you speak mean nothing to my people. Egalite? Fraternite? Liberte? Are these not words used in the last failed revolution? The people of the streets are not looking to turn the world upside down. They only want to survive without such a struggle. They want to fall asleep at night knowing they will wake up to a better day. At the end of the day, they're another day older. That's all. They want a world where their hard work will earn them what the noblemen are handed on silver platters already," she lectured somewhat condescendingly. Enjolras clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils.
"Then what would you suggest?" he muttered.
"If you are going to take my advice, then I suggest you spend a day on the streets of Paris. Go to the slums, but whatever you do, do not dress like a bourgouise. You'll just end up with no money and dirty looks. Dress simple and talk among the people. Ask them what they're frustrations are and what they would fight for. I cannot speak for everyone, but I know that their are not many good souls left among the poor," she paused for a moment, shame overtaking her words. "Poverty drives people to desperation Monsieur. Even the Holy Lord himself is unknown and un-worshipped throughout much of the slums. I do know, though, that there are good people about. You just have to find them. You care so much about Patria, Monsieur Enjolras, but Patria would not be without the individuals that make her. Perhaps it is time to care a bit more about them," Eponine finished her rant strongly before her cheeks began to burn red. Here she stood, lecturing a well educated upper class man on how to approach his own thoughts! "I am sorry Monsieur, that's not my place," she cast her eyes down. No matter how strong she was, Eponine Thenardier had spent her entire life being reminded that she was below everyone and everything. She was below even the garbage that strewn the street. When she could not keep her tongue, which was often, she was physically reminded by her Pere that she was the lowest of the low. The previous night when she had lashed out at Enjolras, her emotions had gotten the better of he. But she had had the night to bathe in self pity and she was very much finished with it.
"Nonsense Eponine. I asked for your opinion, though I may not have been prepared for what you have to say. And if you insist that you are not a Mademoiselle, then I am no Monsieur. We are equal in the eyes of the Republic, in the eyes of the Revolution, and in the eyes of God. I insist you call me Enjolras," Enjolras straightened, feeling uncomfortable at her sudden breach in strength.
"Alright...Enjolras," Eponine frowned slightly as the name felt foreign on her tongue without giving it the proper Monsieur. The crowd in the room was beginning to disperse, and the few left were eyeing the pair strangely. They had never seen their fearless, marble leader interact so easily with a woman before. Enjolras had encountered his fair share of women, through his match-making mother and on their own accord, but he generally gave them a hard stare and a stuttered refusal before quickly leaving. Now he stood, engaging in an actual conversation that for a moment seemed so spirited. Enjolras was not without emotions; it was simply the case that all his emotions were devoted to the betterment of France. His friends, who had bestowed the loving nicknames of Marble Man and Man of Stone upon him, did not believe that love for one's country counted.
"But I am not against the idea of visiting the slums to speak to the people who have not been to any of my protests," the leader rubbed his stubbled chin in thought. It had been a few days since he'd taken the time to shave. "I'm not familiar with which areas would be best to visit. I spend too much of time at Sorbonne. Perhaps you could direct me to the best place to observe?" he glanced down at her and noticed that she was glancing out the window, a look of worry spread across her features. "Eponine?" he snapped, harsher then he'd met.
"What?"
"I asked if you could direct me to the right area to visit."
"Oh, well the slums of Saint Michel are a good place to start," she answered gruffly, beginning to bounce slightly with anxiety. She could see the sun beginning to set and she knew it would be ten times more difficult to mask herself in the darkness. The Patron Minette were more likely than not still looking for her, and they were masters of the night.
"Do you have somewhere to be that is more important than the Revolution?" Enjolras finally snapped, glaring pointedly at her. Combeferre began to wander over, seeing the conversation was not going smoothly any longer.
"Oui, if you must know!" Eponine snapped back, planting her foot. "It is almost dusk and I cannot be out much past it." Enjolras paused, thinking for a moment that she was obviously scared to travel in the dark on her own. It was logical, as she was a small woman.
"I will walk you home when we are finished," he announced, as if it would solve all her troubles. She scoffed.
"We are all equal in the eyes of the Revolution, Enjolras. I do not need to be walked home by you or any other kind Monsieur here," Eponine added the last bit as an afterthought as Combeferre finally reached the pair.
"Please Mademoiselle, let us do the honors. It would please us very much," the calmer student tried to appease her temper with a gentle smile.
"I am sorry, but I cannot let you. We are finished now Monsieur," she said the last word with emphasis, shooting a glare at Enjolras. For a moment he was about to roll his eyes and let her leave, but a series of memories flashed through his head. Eponine: wincing as Marius hugged her...Eponine: stuttering over her sudden lack of a job...Eponine: waiting in the cafe all day with no other place to be. The first thing that shocked him was that he had noticed so much about Eponine in only a few days. The second realization was that Eponine had no where to go, but rather was in a hurry to find somewhere to go.
"Eponine wait!" he called as she was already halfway down the stairs. He gave a quick nod to Combeferre, bidding him adeui. It was outside and down the block when he finally caught up to her. She spun around angrily.
"What?!" she demanded. The cold wind that came with darkness whipped her hair across her face and she brushed it away with annoyance.
"You are not wearing a coat."
"I am well aware of that," she glared at him, exasperation dripping from every syllable. Enjolras glared at the ground and then clenched his eyes for a moment before he spoke the next words.
"If you have no place to go, you are welcome to use the spare room in my apartment," he did his best to sound pleasant. "I share it with Grantaire, but he is rarely home and I could use help cooking and cleaning up," he added quickly, remembering how she had refused money from Marius with disgust.
"I do not cook," she said simply.
"Then tidying up," he insisted, but was cut off from a rather loud cough from the girl standing across from him. He felt his heart clench only slightly, a feeling he had become unfamiliar with since hardening himself to the world around him. Eponine was going to refuse, but she thought she saw a shadow dart quickly across the road a further ways down the block. In a panic she took a deep breath and nodded quickly.
"Fine, I will go with you. But it is only until you no longer need my help with the revolution."
"Agreed," Enjolras almost heaved a sigh of relief. It was temporary. He couldn't even explain why he had been compelled to offer her his spare room in the first place, but he was very glad it would not be forever. An equal part of him, strangely, was very glad she had accepted his offer. Perhaps he could learn to care for more than Patria.
A/N: So there it is! I hope you enjoy it. And oh goodness I forgot to mention this before...please I know I'm making HORRIBLE spelling and grammar mistakes (especially with anything French. I spell it different every single time...good lord). But I'm typing on WordPad (not Microsoft Word because I don't have that on my new laptop yet) which has absolutely no Spell Check or Grammar Check. And I never realized how much I needed those before. But anyway, please review! And another special thanks to ShipperBody, who basically motivated me to finish what I wasn't able to do in a week, in one day!