Chapter 7. Her Laughter and Her Tears

She
May be the beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell

(...)

She who always seems so happy in a crowd
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud
No one's allowed to see them when they cry

(She, Elvis Costello)

Éponine slowly walked along the Seine, her feet trying to follow the straight line drawn by the sidewalk bricks. With her arms slightly lifted, she suddenly spun around, taken by the sensation of the night wind, the smell of the water, the dust dancing in the yellow streetlight. For a second, memories of ballet lessons from her early wealthy life came back to her and she spun again and again, each time less cautiously, taking large steps while she spun. She did not care what she might look like to street passengers, once one had sunk to the level as hers, the least thing to worry about was public image. The happy memories caused her such remorse that she wondered how she could simultaneously feel so many conflicting emotions at the same time. She suddenly had the strongest urge to run really fast, run away from Paris, creating a new life for herself somewhere else and never to return. But before she could take a step, her hands were abruptly gripped by a strong force from behind. She could feel Montparnasse's fishy breath on her neck and cringed. The vivid images of her memories and fantasies were blown away like candles in the wind, Éponine was back again on the riverside. Paris was hostile to her and the night wind was cruel. Azelma needed her care and support, without her Azelma would certainly take up her place and that was the last thing she wanted for her little sister. Marius did not need her, not in the future, but she would like to imagine that for now he needed her to contact Cosette.

Suddenly she was struck with the realization of how little she meant to the world. There was only one person for whom she cared about and needed her. Montparnasse lusted after her, but it would be easy to replace her once she was gone. Nobody would notice nor care if she disappeared right this moment.

Enjolras would notice. Combeferre would notice. Enjolras would be very disappointed if you were to disappear. A small voice whispered inside her but she wondered how much she could believe it. Surely she had formed a comfortable companionship with Combeferre, she liked talking to him about her philosophy of life. It usually contrasted with his and raised some interesting conversations but would he be remorse if she were gone? Or would he sigh for a second or two then continue with his life unaffected?

About Enjolras, she did not know what to make of the man. There existed a weird friendship between the two of them. They were simultaneously close and distant at the same time. He was a private, serious man and she respected that, she never asked invasive questions. However, she could not help but feel like the bond between them went deeper than mere acquaintance. Perhaps it was the secrets that they shared. He knew what she did every night when she left café Musain to come back home. He knew behind the tough, proud exterior she put up, Éponine was deeply disappointed with her life and there was a hint of self-loathe in everything she said. But what did she know about him? Not much, aside from that night.

Montparnasse wrapped his arms around her waist and tightened the grip.

"Good evening Montparnasse." She sighed. "Is this how it's usually done? Sneaking up people from behind and cut their throat?"

"Dearest Éponine, why must you be so hard on me?" he chuckled. "You know your life could be so much easier if you would just subordinate to me. I'd buy you new dresses and you would eat three times a day. Wouldn't you want that?"

"I'd rather die." Was her reply. She couldn't care less if her dress was dirty and ragged, and she was used to being hungry.

"Sometimes…" he breathed into her ear. "I wonder if I should use more force on you."

With that she felt the cold sharp edge of a switchblade on the skin of her neck. Éponine rolled her eyes.

"If you think you could scare me with this, you could not be more wrong."

Éponine was about to hit him in the groin when suddenly; out of nowhere, she heard a male voice yelling out.

"Stop!"

Montparnasse spun her around, causing the blade to sink deeper into her throat. Éponine cursed under her breath. Alone she could take down Montparnasse, he was usually easy on her and she fought dirty. But now some idiot had to step in and complicate everything.

Turned out, it wasn't one but two idiots. She shook her head as Courfeyrac and Feuilly stepped ahead.

"Monsieur, I ask you to drop the knife and release the lady this instant." Courfeyrac shouted.

"You know these two?" Montparnasse asked her.

"No." she murmured. "Why would I know them?"

Montparnasse looked at her skeptically then yelled at Courfeyrac and Feuilly. "What if I don't?"

Before Éponine could react, she felt the force of a hard blow to Montparnasse's head from behind. He crumbled to the ground, unconscious. Éponine ran towards Courfeyrac as fast as possible. Bahorel followed her with a satisfied look on his face.

"Is he dead?" asked Feuilly worriedly.

"I don't think so." Bahorel shook his head. "But he would be lying there for a good while."

"What is this?" she took a step away from them. "What are you three doing here? How did you find me?" she shot them a nasty look. "Explain."

"We followed you here." Feuilly blurted out, at the same time Courfeyrac exclaimed. "We were just taking a walk along the Seine!"

She arched an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Seriously Feuilly?" Courfeyrac glared at his friend. "All right, guilty as charged. We followed you here."

"May I ask, for what reason Monsieur Courfeyrac?" she put her hands on her hips and tapped her feet, like when she was about to lecture Azelma or Gavroche.

"We wanted to find out where you lived." Feuilly answered, his eyes casted down. "I'm very sorry Mademoiselle Éponine, we shouldn't have."

"Now wait a second." Bahorel chimed in. "What do you mean we shouldn't have? We saved her life!"

"I could have saved myself without the assistant of you idiots!" Éponine snapped. "I know Montparnasse. He would not actually cut my throat. And it's not like I cannot protect myself. But you three, you and your hero complex, had to jump in and be all dramatic! How long have you been following me?!"

There was no answer as the three schoolboys stood there awkwardly, scratching their heads. Éponine could almost laugh at how absurd the situation was. She was barely seventeen and they have all passed their twentieth birthday, yet there they stood, three grown up men, heads down as she was scolding them. But she was too angry to let herself laugh. It was enough that Enjolras knew about her occupation, if you could still call it an occupation. She did not want any of the Les Amis to find out about her shameful life. Once it'd gotten out, it certainly would be difficult to control and the next thing she knew, Marius was going to find out. She definitely did not need that.

"Let me guess." She snickered. "Since I left Café Musain?"

There were some murmur but she didn't bother listening. "Monsieur Courfeyrac, I understand you were unsatisfied with my less than detailed answer from before, but was it really necessary for you to follow me?"

"We just wanted to help you." He pleaded and looked at her with those puppy dog eyes. "Please Mademoiselle Éponine, don't be at all offended. You look too thin and your complexion is hardly healthy. We just wanted to find out about your situation and see if there was anything we could do."

"That, Monsieur Courfeyrac, is none of your concern!" Éponine yelled. "My private life is mine to care about only. Please, I really don't need more people butt into my life and complicate it more than it already is."

"We're very sorry Mademoiselle Éponine." Mumbled Feuilly.

His guilty face softened Éponine's anger and she dropped the hands from her hips. After all, they did save her life and they were with good intentions, though their actions were stupid. Her face relaxed and she spoke with a warmer tone.

"All right. Well now that you have followed me here, what do you make of me now?"

"Mademoiselle Éponine, where are you going to sleep tonight?" asked Feuilly all of a sudden. Éponine blinked with surprise. She almost wanted to say none of your business out of reflex, but she restrained herself and told herself to be more civilized. They just wanted to help, she reminded herself.

"Where do you think Monsieur Feuilly?" she answered with a half smirk, glancing at the bridge nearby. Feuilly gasped with surprise.

"Surely you mustn't!" he exclaimed. "What about your home?"

"I don't want to go home tonight." She shook her head.

For a while they just stood there, Feuilly concerned, Bahorel awkward, Courfeyrac thoughtful and Éponine gloomy.

"If I may, Mademoiselle Éponine." Courfeyrac started. "Surely we cannot let you sleep under the bridge tonight, it would be so inconsiderate of us."

Éponine just looked at him, encouraging him to talk more. Go on, her eyes told him.

"We wonder if, if you would be so kindly to accept our offer, to spend the night somewhere else more proper."

"Where?" Feuilly asked confusedly.

"Enjolras's apartment of course!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, his eyes enthusiastic. "For all I know, he lives alone in a rather spacious place. Though it's not extensively decorated and rather chaste – like the man himself" Courfeyrac murmured disapprovingly. "– surely he must have room for one more."

"No!" cried Éponine. "Absolutely not!" She was horrified with the idea of spending a night in the same place with Enjolras. It sure would be the most uncomfortable experience she ever had to go through. Besides, she was certain that he would not allow such a thing.

"Mademoiselle Éponine, it is inhumane for you to spend the night at a place so cold and dirty." Persuaded Courfeyrac. "Please, just for one night. It breaks my heart just to think about you sleeping under that bridge."

Éponine narrowed her eyes. "Monsieur Courfeyrac, are you scheming something?"

Courfeyrac look appalled as he answered. "Why, Mademoiselle Éponine, you think the worst of me! What do you think I can get out of this?"

She looked at him skeptically and weighed the offer. The hard and uneven surface of the riverside was less than ideal, and suddenly she craved the softness and warmth that a couch (she assumed she would be sleeping on a couch) could offer. Éponine was tempted, very tempted.

It must have shown on her face as Courfeyrac leaned in. "How about this, Mademoiselle Éponine. We would take you out for dinner, then after you're full, you could think more clearly and you'd consider my offer again. Shall we?" he smiled pleadingly, and she couldn't help but smile back. Courfeyrac was the master of persuasion as far as she witnessed. Besides, her stomach suddenly growled very loudly and she let out a small cry of horror.

"I think that's settled." Smiled Courfeyrac. "Shall we head towards the Maxim?"

"The Maxim?!" her eyes opened wide. "Monsieur Courfeyrac, you cannot be serious. They would throw me out in the blink of an eye. The place is too fancy for a street rat like me."

"Don't worry Mademoiselle Éponine." Courfeyrac assured her. "I'm a regular guest at the Maxim. They would never insult a friend of mine. You're safe with me."

"You'd better be as good as your claim Monsieur Courfeyrac." Éponine shook her head, but inside she could feel a warmth directed towards the gentlemen walking beside her. Bahorel offered her his arm to lean on and she took it with an amused smile.

Courfeyrac looked at the small girl almost swallow the piece of steak whole, while gulping down wine at an alarming speed that could rival Grantaire. So far she had eaten as much as three grown men combined. Soon enough Éponine slowed down once the hunger had subsided and ate with more grace. She had good table manner, Courfeyrac noticed. When she was not starving, there was almost an elegance in the way she cut the meat and lifted the wine glass. She must not have grown up as a street rat though she may look ragged and poor. Something tragic must have happened to her family to drive the poor girl to the state she's in right now, he concluded. Courfeyrac called for another bottle of red wine as Éponine drank the last drop of the bottle.

"For a small girl like you, you sure drink a lot." Bahorel stated. Courfeyrac noted that even though she drank almost a bottle of wine, Éponine was not even blushing. She was still speaking coherently and with posture.

Éponine shrugged. "With the kind of life that I lead, I get used to wine and alcohol." At the same time, she glared at them as if daring them to ask more about her life. They were smart enough to know better.

"I wonder between you and Grantaire, who can hold their alcohol better?" said Feuilly.

"I've seen Grantaire." Éponine replied after swallowing a chunk of fine white bread. "He may hold a bottle of wine in his hand all day, but the man cannot hold his drink at all." She took a sip of the wine. "I'd drink him under the table any day."

Bahorel laughed and Courfeyrac asked her. "Was that a challenge?"

Éponine shrugged. "If you want it to be Monsieur Courfeyrac. I know what men are like. They can't handle losing to a woman."

The second bottle of wine was running out at an incredible speed, and Éponine's cheeks started to glow, but she was nowhere near drunk. Not even buzzed.

"It's a competition then!" declared Courfeyrac while Bahorel cheered. "We must inform Grantaire tonight after taking Mademoiselle Éponine to Enjolras's apartment, so that the idiot won't drink tomorrow for a fair game."

"Who said I was going to Monsieur Enjolras's?" she asked and smirked as the color drained from Courfeyrac's face. "I'm joking, Monsieur Courfeyrac." She laughed light-heartedly. "You should have seen your face."

Enjolras opened the door to find an entourage standing at the hallway. He saw Courfeyrac's mischievous smile, Bahorel's excited face, Feuilly's good-natured expression and Éponine's rather annoyed look.

"What is this?" his eyebrows furrowed.

"We followed Mademoiselle Éponine home." Exclaimed Courfeyrac. "But that took an unexpected turn. Someone tried to harm Mademoiselle Éponine, and we rescued her."

"I could have taken care of it by myself." Éponine grumbled.

What does that have to do with you four standing here at my front door?, Enjolras's eyes seemed to suggest.

"Anyway, as I was saying." Courfeyrac continued. "Mademoiselle Éponine could not go home tonight, and we were appalled to find out that she was going to sleep under a bridge. We simply could not allow that. So I was wondering Enjolras, would you let her stay the night here?"

Enjolras looked at them sternly. Courfeyrac worriedly chimed in. "I'm sure it won't be too much of a hassle."

"I shall take the couch Monsieur Enjolras." Said Éponine. "And it's for only for one night. You don't have to worry."

Enjolras replied. "I'm not worried about that. Éponine you can sleep here for as long as you want to, I do not mind. It is only mere decency to help those who are in need."

"I knew he wouldn't disagree." Smiled Courfeyrac. "We're settled then?"

"I cannot thank you enough Monsieur Enjolras." Éponine stepped ahead, and Enjolras instinctively took a step back.

"You can thank me by not hugging me." He warned her and Éponine broke into laughter.

"As you wish Monsieur Enjolras."

"Alright, it's very late now." Enjolras announced. "I'm sure Mademoiselle Éponine is very tired, and she needs her rest. You three should leave."

Courfeyrac nodded and gestured Bahorel and Feuilly to follow him. Éponine stepped into the room and Enjolras closed the door.

"I am so sorry on behalf of Courfeyrac." Enjolras shook his head. "He's a good-natured man, but he could be foolish sometimes."

"Don't apologize for him." Éponine said, wandering around the apartment. "He did nothing but goodness for me tonight. I'm deeply grateful."

Enjolras nodded. "That's good to know you're not offended by his idiotic actions."

Éponine headed towards the couch and was about to take off her shoes when Enjolras asked.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm about to sleep?" answered a confused Éponine.

"No Mademoiselle Éponine, I cannot allow you to sleep on the couch." He shook his head. "You will sleep in my bed and I will sleep on the couch tonight. No argue."

"No!" She exclaimed. "I have bothered you enough, there's no need to give up your bed for me."

"Please Mademoiselle Éponine. I will be working until very late tonight in this room and it will disturb you. You are sleeping in my bed and I will not take any refusal."

With that he settled down on the couch and stared at her, his arms folded across his chest. Éponine sighed.

"If you're not the strangest man I know. At least let me bring you a pillow and a blanket."

Enjolras nodded. "You'd find the extra blanket at the top shelf of the wardrobe."

She disappeared into his bedroom and came back a minute later, carrying his biggest pillow and the blanket. "Good night Monsieur Enjolras." She murmured as she put them down on the couch and started heading back into his bedroom.

Before she closed the door, Éponine turned around and spoke to him. "Monsieur Enjolras, you and your friends are good men. I may not know much but I believe in your cause. May God bless you."

"Thank you for your encouragement, Mademoiselle Éponine." He nodded. "May God bless us."

"Good night Monsieur Enjolras." She smiled.

"Good night Mademoiselle Éponine."

Now, why is it that you're so much less guarded and alarmed when the night comes? Thought Enjolras briefly when Éponine closed the door. He knew he was not a particular good judge of people based on first impression, but he always felt like he never fully grasped Éponine even after the first two weeks meeting her, and he was afraid he was never going to. There existed in her, both despair and hope, both happiness and sorrow, both a nostalgia for the past and expect for the future at the same time. She was proud and feisty, yet she ran in and out of the café delivering Pontmercy's notes like a loyal puppy. He could not be sure what he should expect from her.

Enjolras shook his head to get rid of these distracting thoughts, as he realized he was about to waste more time than he would allow himself. He stood up from the couch, sat down on the chair and started burying his head under the pile of paper again.

Thank you all for the lovely reviews. I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I hope it shows.