Chapter 8

"Is she vulnerable?" A dark man in a dark room inquired raggedly.

"She's proved her fierceness before." An educated voice responded in a slimy tone.

"It's important that we finish this. No more mistakes."

"Babet was inadequate, I agree. It will not happen again." The second voice responded.

"Why are you doin' this? She's done nothing to you!" A dark female cried, "Danielle would never 'urt no one! Leave her alone!"

"Shut yer trap, 'Ponine. This is no concern of yours. You'll keep this quiet or you'll be sorry." The first voice threatened. The girl was heard no more.

Danielle felt some small satisfaction from slamming the gate with all her might. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was this sort of nonsense. Enjolras made a fool of himself in front of the two people Danielle's fate depended on. But, not only did he make a fool of himself, she knew without a doubt that he'd done it on purpose. Her blood boiled and palms got sweaty just thinking about how angry that made her. She stomped down the walk, shoved her bonnet over her hair, and tied the ribbons as furiously as she could. The nerve of him.

Merde, what an insufferable man! She stopped in her tracks and covered her mouth with her hand. She hadn't meant to swear! Her emotions were in a complete turmoil. Her heart felt as though it had combusted and was flaming in her chest, her head felt weak, and her hands were shaking. Yet, beneath it all, she felt serene. Emotions never seemed to grip her completely, as she was quite level-headed. But she knew that she must have emotions, and so did her very best. She didn't feel as though she were going to cry, which was unusual for a heroine of her time. Although, she did have an inexpressible need to hit something. Perhaps her shaking hands came from that desire.

She didn't know whether to be angry or sad or shrug it all off as a bad day. She stomped her feet to vent her frustration in a semi-ladylike way. Turning to cross the street, she tried to decide where she was running away to. Perhaps she'd go to visit Cosette, or see if she could formally meet Christine, and - if all other options failed - maybe she'd go to the Café Musain. With fury writ on her features she strode along, past shops and houses and gardens, completely oblivious to anything around her.

"Are you alright, Mademoiselle?" A young man who passed by asked her. She turned to see Jehan looking at her kindly and concernedly.

"Pardon, but I do not know, Jehan. It's been a difficult month." She smiled sadly.

"Don't be sad, dear lady. It mars the loveliness of your face." He told her earnestly.

"That's too kind, Jehan." She thanked him gratefully.

"May I walk with you?"

"Of course!"

"Enjolras told me of your betrothal." He informed her.

"Why would he do that? He can't be proud of it." She furrowed her eyebrows.

"He is not a boastful man, Danielle. He does not talk of the things he's proud of. I'm simply known to everybody as the romantic. The poet. That's why he came to me, to seek my counsel and goodwill. Did he bring you the daisies? That was my idea. He knew that you and I were good friends, but he wanted to make sure I harbored no romantic feelings or, if I did, that I knew it was all a sham. He is a gentleman, Mademoiselle. He is the best of us." He told her emphatically.

"He brought the daisies, but didn't give them to me. He acted like a fop, Jehan. Did you tell him to do that? Aren't you all like brothers?"

"I didn't tell him to act any way. That must have been his idea. It will work out for good, Danielle. He is a very wise man. We are all very much like brothers. We would die for each other. Probably will, in fact." He avoided her eye contact by looking down at his polished shoes.

"What do you mean, Jehan?" She inquired with worry. He sounded so resigned and the boys she'd met didn't seem to be so...depressed.

"Whether or not you realize it we are going to start a revolution, Danielle. The tyranny of the Monarchy must be stopped, and who will do that if not us? But we are few against hundreds. We will kill, yes, but we will also most likely be killed in our attempt at freedom. We have all weighed that cost and found it to be worthy." He shook his head, seeming to realize that such talk would seem very radical to a proper lady.

"I was always told that violence would only reap more violence."

"You also reap what you sow, Mademoiselle, and the Monarchy has only sown pain and death for the people of France. Enjolras has always said that the people must rise up and take back what is theirs. We will not be sheep." He replied vehemently.

"But surely France needs a Monarchy! If it were to become a republic, wouldn't it fall as surely as Rome has fallen? Monarchies work, Monsieur, even if it's people aren't rich. It is the duty of those who are wealthy to help those who are not. Perhaps you should give the Monarchy a chance to help the people." She argued.

"Have you seen America, Mademoiselle? Do you not wish to live in a Country like that? The people have a say. Every single person has a voice. If you don't like something, you can vote to change it. If you had a thought, an idea, you could implement it! Is that not your dream? It is ours. Just think on it, Danielle." He urged her.

"You know I will think on it, Jehan." She smiled at him. Danielle always did her best to use her head, instead of the heart, as so many young women in her age used their feelings to dictate decisions. Feelings are dangerous things that can easily captivate and manipulate you. That's why they're meant to be felt, and not used in decision making. Lady Baybridge had taught her that, and it was one of the only lessons Danielle had heeded.

"Enjolras told me of your engagement." Jehan told her, back to the usual soft spoken tone, "Nobody else knows anything about it."

"How could anyone else know of it? I hardly expect Enjolras of sitting about, mooning like a lovesick puppy!" She laughed, but sobered when she saw Jehan's sober expression.

"He is always lovesick, as you say, Danielle. He pines away for France. Patria is who he cares for, who he would do anything for. He will fight and he will die for his love of France and our better future." He continued along the vein of their previous topic, apparently wishing to say more.

"I didn't know that you all cared so much about this rebellion." She admitted apologetically.

"I know you didn't, that's why I'm telling you," He smirked at her, "So that you may know better the man that you are madly in love with and currently betrothed to."

"Oh, that's so kind of you! Being betrothed to a man I know nothing about is so exciting! It increases the aura of mystery surrounding him." She giggled.

"Because Enjolras needs more mystery. He's simply too open and conversational." Jehan joined in. Danielle had noticed that they seemed to be walking in the direction of the Café, but didn't say anything. Raul never forbid her from entering the Café, and it was such a warm, welcoming place that she felt she needed it. Perhaps Eponine would be there and Danielle could talk to her. After all, Danielle couldn't help it if Eponine 'sought her out' for a conversation. She had to be polite, after all, and politeness couldn't break any rules.

"Would you like to join me for some tea, Mademoiselle?" Jehan inquired graciously.

"I would love it." She smiled and took his arm. He smiled at her reassuringly, and led her inside as though they were royalty.

There were few boys in the Café during the afternoon, many were either at home or the University. They didn't usually gather until late evening, but there were a few arriving steadily. Bossuet had come just before Jehan and Danielle, and another boy was sitting at a table in the corner, drinking much too heavily for so early in the day. Danielle sat at a table near a pane-less window, one that she had seen Enjolras sit at every time she'd seen him, and Jehan and Bossuet joined her.

"How are you this lovely day, Mademoiselle?" Bossuet asked cheerily.

"I am well now, thank you." She smiled, "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm usual. My pocket book was stolen this morning, my socks caught fire drying on the grate, and my horse has gone lame. But, it's to be expected!" He smiled as though laughing at his own misfortune.

"I'm so sorry, Monsieur! Do you need anything? You can use my gelding, he could do with exercise." Danielle offered.

"That is very kind of you, Mademoiselle, but I believe simply sitting on your gelding would cause him to catch influenza." Bossuet laughed.

"Horses can't catch influenza from people sitting on them, Bossuet." Joly arrived and sat at their table, "But they can get warts from you." He smiled impishly at the other student.

"Then it's a good thing you don't spend much time around horses!" Bossuet rebutted, while Danielle grinned at them.

"I don't have warts! I'm a medical student, I should know. If there is one malady I do not have, it's warts." Joly defended himself, "But I can't say the same for you." He grinned smugly.

The boys continued their back and forth, but it faded away when Danielle noticed Eponine. The other girl had walked in, but hung back at the landing of the stairs. She was looking at Danielle and had an incredibly fearful attitude. Danielle excused herself from the boisterous laughing and walked briskly to the other girl, skirt swishing at her heels.

"What is the matter, Eponine?" Danielle asked quickly.

"There's somethin' bad gonna 'appen. And I can't tell you." Eponine responded with a sorry look.

"Why can't you tell me? What's going to happen?"

"I promised I wouldn't tell you."

"Well, then what's going on? Is there anything you can tell me?" Danielle inquired calmly.

"I can tell Enjolras. He'll know." Eponine resolved.

"Enjolras isn't here. Can it wait for him?" Danielle looked about her, as though by doing so it would summon the student from the woodwork.

"Yes, it can wait, just stay 'ere." Eponine commanded and walked over to a lonely table. Danielle let her be alone, although her interest was piqued. She would know what was going on soon enough. Although she really didn't want to face Enjolras again after their horrible meeting, Danielle knew that whatever was troubling Eponine involved her, and she needed to know. The nervous look that Eponine wore gave her a feeling of foreboding. It must take a lot to make the girl scared.

Enjolras arrived quite quickly after that, he couldn't have taken that long with Raul and Lady Baybridge after Danielle had left them. He walked up the stairs with an indecipherable expression and a tired walk. His step faltered when he saw the multitudes gathered at his table and Danielle caught his eye. She went to him and trained her features into a stern expression. She wanted him to know just how disappointed she was. He gazed at her coolly as she approached and didn't form any greeting or kindness. She would have to be the first to speak.

"There is something amiss with Eponine." She informed him curtly, before she'd even stopped walking in his direction. If he could treat her badly in her own home, with the people her future depended on, she could do the same to him.

He seemed to sense her ire, but did nothing to rectify it. He only nodded and veered his direction towards the dark girl in the started conversing intently and Danielle felt an overwhelming wave of curiosity wash over her. She walked quietly to a table within earshot of their voices and sank gracefully into a wooden chair. She needn't have worried about them noticing; they were completely unobservant of anything but whatever had Eponine looking so stricken.

"She's in danger, M'sieur. You must 'elp her!" The girl urged him decisively.

"It is not over, then?" Enjolras asked himself as much as her.

"It'll never be over. I can't tell you what's 'appening, they won't allow me, but it's no good."

"I have no time for this, Eponine. Please, take it to Combeferre or Courfeyrac. I have important matters to discuss with Marius." He was brusque and rude, but it was no new trait of his. He stood and walked to the window. Eponine raised her eyes to Danielle's, and the latter realized they had been talking about her. Shivers razed her spine. She looked to Enjolras, now going over a map of France under the Republic with Marius and Feuilly, who served as a sort of ambassador to the other contingents. Enjolras seemed completely unperturbed while she saw evil men in every shadow, crevice and corner.

"You seem sick, Mademoiselle. Are you well?" Joly asked from his table. He stood quickly and rushed to her side, pressing his palm to her forehead, "You seem to have a slight fever."

"I'm sorry Monsieur, but I simply have a headache is all. I think I should return home." She responded with a small smile and a pained expression.

"She needs an escort." Enjolras inserted from his map before Joly had a chance to respond.

"I understand, but do you think she should stay for the meeting?" Joly asked.

"Not if she is ill." Came the bored response.

"Yes, Captain." Was Joly's dry, overt comment.

"I'm really all right, Joly. I just need to go home. Thank you." Danielle stood and walked unsteadily toward the stairs. She seemed to be visibly shaking, for Jehan rushed to her and grabbed her around the waist awkwardly to keep her from falling over.

"Mademoiselle, you must not leave at present. You are in no condition to walk home. Come sit down." He admonished her softly and led her to another table near a smaller window, to give her air. She thanked him with a smile and sat.

Jehan left her then to speak with the Joly and Bossuet about history and religion. They all, even those that seemed less informed, had such outstanding, outlandish opinions on everything under the moon. Words and phrases flew around the room like a flock of doves, never landing but let go to swirl around forever in Danielle's head. They seemed to hold nothing sacred! Everything was to be picked apart by them and debated over and summarized. There were several groups of boys at all corners of the room, all conversing of separate things, words occasionally flinging from one group to the next. They all handled themselves with wit and good humor. When a topic went awry, it was simply exchanged for another one, and nobody's feelings were hurt. Danielle thought it was a lovely thing. She hardly understood the things they were talking about, but she sometimes got the impression that they were throwing words out just to sound intelligent. She couldn't help but notice that Enjolras hardly contributed.

Danielle was slowly calming herself from the fear that had suffused her. She felt a warm feeling listening to the boys talk of intellectual things, their voices were rhythmic and soothed her.

It was some time later before the students seemed to remember her, for Enjolras came and stood a comfortable distance from her.

"Mademoiselle, would you like to go home?" He asked in his usual insensitive tone.

"Yes, please. I'm very tired." She responded lethargically.

"I will escort you, follow me." Danielle thought of Shakepeare's great quote, 'brevity is the soul of wit', and amused herself with thinking of how miserably Enjolras was failing at that. Until it registered that he meant to walk her home. Enjolras. Escorting her home. She weighed the options and decided this was best, she did really wish to return home, anyway. Even if she had to suffer greatly to get there.

A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long! I started school and it's been a bit of a change for me. Not as far as the material is hard, but it's just a lot. Thank you all for reading! I hope you like it and rreeeevvviiieeewww! :D