Author's Notes: Hello everyone! I'm terribly sorry for the long wait, but I'm afraid it's going to be like this for likely the remainder of the story (which is about halfway done at this point…) I have officially started college and last week was the week of auditions! I'm excited to let you guys know I'll be playing Anna in Stafford Arima's production of "Spring Awakening". All you have to do is Google search Stafford and realize what a big deal he is and it's so exciting to be working with him! Next week I have midterms and I haven't even started studying so I'm short on time since we rehearse so much, but enough about me. We have characters to read about, oui? Enjoy my friends!
Though I do have to give a special WARNING for this chapter. It contains some age-sensitive material. If you are under 13, please continue on with caution. I do not write lemons or smut really because I feel like true literature doesn't need that to evoke the same emotions, but still the ending scene is a bit mature. Alright, no more me talking!
Cosette paced her room nervously. She muttered greetings and practiced curtsying as she fussed with her hair and clothes. Her father watched from the doorway, a smile on his lips, but the ghost of sadness in his eyes. He had let Cosette wander off for an hour while they were visiting the poor for a day, but he had not expected her to return with a young man chattering happily about being a law student at the University.
"My child, do not fret so. I am sure you will be well met by Monsieur Marius' friends no matter how your hair looks," he finally interrupted, though her blue eyes were filled with anguish.
"But Papa Marius' friends are like his family. They are his whole world! If they do not approve of me-
"Then Marius needs new friends," Valkean insearted, his voice firm as he wrapped in his daughter in a strong hug. "Dear Cosette you are lovely and kind and intelligent. You have such a good heart and I thank your mother every day for leaving you to my care. Any person who cannot see that does not know the Lord's good grace," he reminded her softly.
"Thank you Papa," she smiled, "for everything." A quick knock at the door cut their moment of peace short and put them both into action. Valjean made his way to the door as Cosette gathered her small bag, bonnet, and gloves.
"Good evening Monsieur Fauchelevent," Marius chimed from the front porch, holding in his excitement to see Cosette. He had told most of his friends that he would be bringing her to the meeting, though no one had seen Enjolras or Eponine the previous day to pass the message along. Marius was looking forward to introducing Cosette to his best friend. His vision appeared gracefully behind her father.
"Bonjour Marius," she smiled, squeaking past her father to stand beside her beloved.
"Dearest Cosette," the freckled boy replied as he placed a chaste kiss on her hand and offered her his arm. "Merci Monsieur. I will bring her back no later than ten o clock," he told her father before turning to lead her to the Café Musain. Valjean watched as the two lovebirds—for that is what they were—retreat into the sunset. Cosette was the light of his dark life, but she was never his to keep in the first place and he could not fight the love that was so obvious in their eyes. Through the love for another person, one could find God and that was all he wanted for Cosette.
As the pair traveled, Enjolras shuffled through his latest speech. Though his physical appearance was as put together as usual, his mind was completely scattered. He had not slept the previous night, half expecting Eponine to come back, sputtering some kind of ashamed excuse about it being cold and dark, but she had not returned. The ache he felt had not subsided but he pressed it down with a vengeance. Eponine had made her choice and he would respect it without comment. He found it impossible to stop thinking about her altogether though. Images of her smug smile, her cheeky grin, the way her nose crinkled when she was frustrated, the way she hummed off-key while she cleaned, and the way she gazed lovingly at book haunted his every thought. For once, Enjolras regretted his impeccable attention to detail. He observed everything and he could not forget Eponine's image to the exact detail. He groaned quietly to himself as he shuffled through his papers without paying attention.
"Enjolras, are you alright?" Grantaire approached him in an unusually sober manner.
"Yes of course," Enjolras replied tensely, not in the mood to deal with his old friend.
"Why must you lie, Apollo?" Grantaire rolled his eyes. "Something is obviously bothering you and I would bet it has something to do with absence of a certain mademoiselle," Enjolras glared at the drunkard as his comment rang too true.
"That's ridiculous. I don't have time to keep track of all Les Amis, Eponine included. I am a bit off, at most, because I have planned some drastic changes," he responded firmly.
"You are not thinking about the Republic, mon ami."
"And why would you claim that?"
"Because, oh fearless leader," Grantaire's tone oozed sarcasm, "you have shuffled your papers so much that the last page is first, the middle is at the end, and the beginning is somewhere in the middle." Enjolras glanced down at his speech in shock for a moment before hastily reassembling the pages. "What's this? The Great Enjolras has been corrected!"
"Sod off, Grantaire," Courfeyrac chimed in. "Didn't you know Enjolras was sick?"
"Sick? Enjolras, is that so? Is it so contagious? Come to think of it I did cough when I came in the door. Good lord it could be a strain of the Plague or tuberculosis!" Joly began to feel his own forehead and forcibly cough.
"Enough, Joly. Enjolras is not sick and neither are you," Combeferre interrupted with a frown.
"Oh, but mon ami," Courfeyrac slung an arm over Combeferre's shoulder. "Didn't you know? He's been bitten!"
"Oh really? That's some right bad luck! I'm glad it wasn't me…ouch!" Bossuet commented as he hit his hand on the edge of the table.
"Bossuet sit down before you kill yourself," Bahorel demanded sharply. "Now what's this about Enjolras being bitten?"
"Yes Enjolras has been bitten!" Courfeyrac pranced about, patting Jehan on the head as he pulled Feuilly's fan from his hands.
"Hey! I was almost finished with that!"
"Enjolras has been bitten by the terribly bug…of amor!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, covering his lips and nose with the fan as he fluttered his eyelashes like a sultry woman.
"Courfeyrac stop it," Combeferre gave him a pointed look that was easily ignored.
"Oh Enjolras is that true? Tell me is she quite beautiful?" Jehan looked toward the man in the red coat, who had previously been not paying any attention to their ridiculous antics as the meeting hadn't quite started yet.
"I didn't know you had a heart to love with, Apollo," Grantaire commented snidely.
"Enough!" Enjolras finally shouted, though his composure was kept calm. "There is absolutely nothing more between Eponine and myself than there is between myself and any of you! Bring your focus, gentlemen, we have work to do," he announced as Marius strolled in, a girl on his arm. With a large groan, he marched over to them as the blonde beauty was immediately pulled into the arms of Courfeyrac, who began dancing her around the room. Her laugh filled the air and Enjolras winced; it was not as hearty as Eponine's.
"Marius!" Enjolras snapped, pulling him aside sharply. "What are you thinking, bringing a woman you barely know to a secret meeting?"
"Be calm, Enjolras. She is not a danger. Her father has heard of Les Amis d'ABC and seems supportive of the cause. She is not loyal to the crown, nor the current government system. They are interested in helping the less fortunate," Marius placed a hand on Enjolras' shoulder, but it was thrown off.
"You cannot possibly know any of that to be true! For all you know her father could be a member of the Royal Court simply using his daughter to get inside information. What we are doing is considered treason by the King, Marius. Would you risk the safety and lives of all of your friends for a woman? Do you know how hard Courfeyrac worked to prove you would be loyal? I should have trusted my instinct. Damn Bonapartist," he muttered, feeling the migraine growing in his head.
"I may not agree with every political opinion of yours, but I am loyal and supportive of the cause. I have risked everything for the Revolution and yet you act as if I have done nothing!" Marius argued back.
"You did not sacrifice anything! You only live without the luxury you were unjustly given at birth. While I have always admired you for that, you have not done anything for the cause ever since you laid eyes on that girl. She is not beneficial to our cause if everyone is distracted by her. You must choose Marius. The time for growing up is now," Enjolras' voice was hard, and though it was calm there was a storm brewing behind his eyes.
"That's completely unreasonable Enjolras! What about Joly and Bousseat with Musichetta? Or all the other men who have a different mistress every night? Why do you not make them choose?" Marius demanded, his rising voice attracting attention.
"Marius maybe we should go…" Cosette started uneasily, but Enjolras calmly cut her off.
"I do not care about the insignificant affairs of the heart as long as they do not interfere with the focus of a meeting," the golden haired leader suppressed his emotions with ease to regain composure. "Take the mademoiselle home, Pontmercy." Marius, however, did not see the reason.
"So is that why Eponine cannot come any longer? Because women have no place here?" he scoffed.
"Eponine is a more valuable member of this society than most other students. Women are welcome, so long as they have proven themselves loyal and helpful! Eponine is not here because she has chosen to leave Paris for personal reason," Enjolras replied, calmly keeping his storming emotions at bay.
"WHAT?!" Marius shouted, successfully commanding everyone's attention. Enjolras let out a long breath before looking at his friends.
"Eponine has left Paris on her own accord. She did not tell me where she was headed, nor did she tell the specifics as to why she was leaving. It is most likely a permanent relocation," he announced.
"But Enjolras didn't you tell her to stay with us?" Feuilly asked, the look on his face like that of a saddened puppy dog.
"That was not my place, nor is it any of yours," Enjolras denied firmly.
"Gavroche will be so heartbroken," Courfeyrac, the ever laughing boy, sighed with grief.
"She is the spirit of our revolution, how can she just leave?" Jehan exclaimed and everyone began to murmur in agreement.
"My friends calm yourselves. We must respect her choices as we would each other's. Before she left we discussed a new approach, though, which we will pursue in her honor…" he launched into his speech about trying to bring change to the country by using the flawed government to their advantage, instead of trying to overthrow it. His friends listened quietly, wondering how such a drastic changed had come to their usually battle-prepared leader. But Cosette sat at Marius' side, having been relieved to just slip under the radar as talk of Eponine sent the room into a flurry. She listened contentedly to Enjolras' speech. Though she knew little of the government, she agreed that the poor could not continue on as they did. She saw them every day and did what she could to better their lives. The name "Eponine" tickled something in the back of her mind, though she could not say why. Whoever she was, Cosette thanked her profusely for preventing a battle which easily could've taken Marius' life.
The same thought comforted Eponine in her new life. When her new clothes squeezed her mercilessly, when her throat burned from the constant singing, when her master's "love" caused her searing pain, or when she wept because she had lost all of her dignity, she thought of Les Amis living to see another day. She thought of Gavroche, riding on the shoulders of Courfeyrac or Grantaire. She thought of Marius, smiling and hugging her lovingly. And she did not stop herself when she thought about Enjolras in those last few moments; the pure, raw emotion that had been so evident in her eyes did not scare her anymore. She knew that on some level he cared for her, and that made all the pain bearable.
In her new life, she was a trophy, a prize. During the day she was paraded around town and shown off to friends of Monsieur LaVigne in extravagant finery. The moment they returned to the privacy of the manor and his personal chambers, she was commanded to give a performance for him which almost always ended with her clothes being violently ripped off. Monsieur LaVigne was a harsh lover. He was not gentle, nor kind. He did not go slowly, nor did he tire quickly. Eponine was honestly surprised at his stamina. She had been forced to lay with several men of all ages, though none had hurt her as much as he did. She knew that most of the pain came from her…unwillingness. Monsieur LaVigne also liked to be rough in other ways. Eponine had lost count of the bruises she acquired since her arrival, which his maids dutifully covered with powder so he would not be suspected of abuse (not that anyone would prosecute him, since he was nobility). Although she was his treasure, he did not treat her with caution and care as a jewel ought to be treated. He often "forgot" to feed her, though she knew he liked her to stay weaker than him. When her performance did not satisfy him, she was tossed out the doorway. The first time it occurred, she tried to leave, but was punished dearly. She learned to suck it up and sleep on the doorstep. Luckily for her, that did not happen more than once a week.
Eponine was still a Thenardier, though, and much accustomed to not getting food and sleeping outside and living with unbearable pain. She was strong and resilient. For the first two months it was absolutely nothing she couldn't handle. The hardest part of her new life was the lack of everything. She no longer felt happiness or joy at even the smallest pleasures. She did not feel…at all. A thought tickled the back of her mind that brought about the first emotion in months: worry. Her mother had not been to the manor to give her the dreadful elixir at the beginning of the month. She did not know for sure what that meant. Perhaps she was unknowingly being administered a kind of prevention? Perhaps her master was unable to father children?
"Madame, what does it mean to not have your…cycle?" Eponine finally asked the head maid after two and a half months of wondering what was going on. The old, stern woman froze before glaring at the street rat before her.
"It means you either keep your mouth shut and get rid of it you filthy whore, or you're in a whole heap of trouble!" she told her roughly. Dread filled Eponine's stomach instantly.
"It?"
Author's Note: AH don't shoot, okay? There won't be another update for AT LEAST a week, but I promise I'm writing as fast as I can. I promise it won't be hanging there for too long!