Author's Note: See? I was quick this time! Do let me know what you think if you want the quickness to continue ;)

31st December

Revolutions to be planned – 1

New Year's balls visited voluntarily – 1 (a record!)

Amis won back for the Cause – to be determined but at least one more than I feared

Times I silently thanked Courfeyrac for existing – 6 and counting

Times I got annoyed by something Grantaire said – about 2 or 3 (very modest)

Jehan's words and the way he had said them remained in my mind. In addition, I kept humming to myself what I had managed to remember from his mother's song and tried to imagine it had something to do with the occasion. Words spoken in verse do seem to have some sort of special power as they are so easy to repeat and often sound more sensible than something that carries the same meaning but lacks rhythm. Maybe there was something in that talk of winter and spring. Indeed, all possible things had to be done to attempt to bring our friends back into the organization.

And this was why the evening found me in a very peculiar place – a ball. A community ball to celebrate the New Year. At that ball I knew I would find at least three of the people I wanted to talk to and one that I didn't.

Courfeyrac was, predictably, in attendance, as well as Joly and Bossuet and – I had to sigh – Grantaire. All four seemed perfectly astonished to see me there.

"But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?" Grantaire greeted me immediately in a rare detour from mythology into English theatre plays.

"Are you wholly incapable of a mere 'hello'?" I could not stop myself from asking although I hardly wanted to invite much further conversation.

He laughed, along with the other three and looked at me with something akin to relief. I didn't think I was being especially friendly but I suppose he had expected worse under the circumstances. I was indeed still slightly angry on account of Feully but, then again, it was Grantaire. I had not hoped for much to start with and at least he had attempted some sort of retribution, even if it was not to my liking.

"A simple 'hello' would hardly be enough to welcome you when you have braved such a frivolous in your eyes event, oh, fairest leader!" he replied.

"I am a man, not a maiden, Grantaire," I informed him irritably. "I have no wish to be called 'fairest'."

He chuckled.

"Fair only in the sense of 'just', I assure you. And a man you most certainly are," he agreed and thankfully said no more on the matter.

Joly reintroduced me to his mistress whom I had met once before and who was at present tugging Bossuet towards the dance floor. She did manage to inspire some small warm feeling in me by the mere fact that she did not attempt to flirt with me at all. I could only be glad that her two cavaliers were proving to be enough. She finally managed to drag her partner to join the other couples despite his good-natured attempts to dissuade her on account of his clumsiness. Courfeyrac looked after them in amusement.

"Truly, Joly, this girl of yours puts me to shame. She is more capricious, more flirtatious and more skillfully manipulative than I could ever hope to be."

"True," Joly agreed with a grin. "And that is because you can never pout so prettily."

"Some would say you should not so readily share her."

"What of it? Musichetta is more than one man can handle on his own and Bernard is a close friend – I would rather share with him than any other."

"A close friendship that is very recent and therefore very fragile. And nothing brings young men apart like a young woman. Be careful, mon ami, it is never worth it. A friend is more precious than a mistress."

Joly laughed with genuine merriment.

"All of your morbid warnings will not affect me in the least, Courfeyrac, I assure you. I have every intention of keeping both my friend and my mistress and we shall get on just fine so long as my health doesn't play a trick on me."

With this he excused himself and hurried to the other side of the ballroom where he was being beckoned by the lady herself. She was laughing and whispering in Bossuet's ear and Bossuet's booming laughter could be clearly heard even where I stood. Courfeyrac chuckled.

"I could almost envy them."

"I regard it as a small display of justice that Joly's good character should be rewarded with a predisposition to be happy in most circumstances," I observed, feeling faintly amused myself at our young hypochondriac's nonchalance, despite having no interest in his romantic affairs.

"What say you to that, Grantaire?" Courfeyrac asked, turning to address him.

"I say that our Jolllly's good character and his happiness are both indisputable but if that happiness is due to justice and not chance, then justice is highly selective, as I have seen other men of good character be unhappy. And that essentially makes Mademoiselle Justice rather unjust."

"Utter nonsense," I muttered, at which Grantaire merely grinned, begged our pardon and disappeared.

As gentlemen were always scarce during such events, he was dancing with some girl not a minute later and Courfeyrac and I were alone.

I could feel he was torn between the desire to keep me company, knowing that I was not likely to be very sociable with the rest of the crowd, and the urge to join in the dancing. Wanting to release him quickly from the obligation to be at my side, I went down to business immediately.

"Courfeyrac, I came here to speak to each of you personally. I have some news that you may find disquieting. Combeferre is no longer with us."

He stared at me for a moment, eyes wide.

"You mean he has left the ABC?"

"Yes."

"Well, good Lord, man! You almost made it sound like he was dead!"

I blinked at him.

"How likely was I to come and announce that at a ball?"

He grinned.

"Not very but then again, how likely were you to come to a ball at all?"

I chose to ignore that, slightly worried by the fact that the news did not in fact seem to have too much of an effect on him. There were two possible explanations for this – either he did not think it was such a devastating loss or he did not think the ABC was that important. The first possibility was unlikely, the second – much undesirable. I relayed them both to him anyway and asked directly which one was the truth. Courfeyrac laughed.

"Oh, but my dear friend, you forget there is a third possibility!"

"What is it?" I asked, trying to hide my impatience.

"I am neither underestimating the importance of the ABC, nor Combeferre's importance in it. I simply believe our good doctor will come around once he has had a little time to think."

There was a pause while I thought that over.

"You are certain of that, Courfeyrac?"

"Are you not?"

"I cannot allow myself to be certain of such things. He is free to do as he pleases."

"You are bitter."

"I am not. I am resigned. I cannot force my views on anyone, much less a close friend of whom I cannot argue that he is ignorant on the matter."

"It doesn't become you to be resigned, Enjolras," he admonished me merrily. "Hear this: I have faith in you, in Combeferre, in the Cause and in all good men working for it. It is true we have been distracted – I admit that for myself at least. I did not listen to you attentively last time – my mind was preoccupied with much more trivial, if indeed rather pleasant matters. I needed a reminder of why we were doing this and my taking Feuilly's place provided that. I should really thank Grantaire for failing to show up or I might not have gotten that opportunity. The working classes, the poor, the People, Enjolras – they need and deserve their freedom, just as you say. And now, mon ami, I know you detest it here. Why don't you go home and I will make sure to speak to Joly and L'Aigle and I will find Bahorel when he returns from the country. You have won them over for the Cause once already, you don't need to do that again. Go home, Enjolras, and plan our next meeting. All will be as it should, or at least as good as it can be made at present."

Without waiting for my reply, he patted my arm and glided away towards the place where Bossuet was now watching Joly and his girl take a turn on the dance floor. I remained standing there for a few more moments, observing Courfeyrac's easy grace and expressive gestures as he made his way across the room, answering each greeting, kissing each hand that needed to be kissed and quickly disentangling himself from conversations without leaving anyone offended or dissatisfied. I watched and I was filled with the warmest feelings towards this man who was in so many ways my opposite and yet his heart was beating to the same battle march and his eyes were looking in the same direction – beyond the walls that separated the children of France and into a fairer future…

Fairer. As if on cue, my musings were interrupted by Grantaire's voice.

"You're not dancing."

I turned to see him standing next to me. At least he did not seem presently drunk and I did observe now that he was somewhat tidier than usual.

"It is not a requirement," I replied.

"It is a ball!"

"Unless you approached me with the intention of asking me yourself, I see no point in this conversation."

My rather cool tone did not discourage him from laughing.

"I was more concerned with the fact that you are both torturing and offending the ladies by being present, yet unavailable."

I glanced around the room. Sure enough, there were girls staring and whispering. There always were. Could they not imply their time in a more sensible manner?

"I did not come to dance," I said shortly.

"Why did you come?"

"I was looking for something."

"Did you find it?"

"Part of it."

"Can I help with the rest?"

"I doubt it. In fact, I think I can leave now."

He cocked his head to one side and surveyed me for a little while as if contemplating a picture in a gallery. Finally, he shrugged.

"Goodnight then, Enjolras."

"Goodnight," I muttered and gratefully slipped away.

All things considered, it could have been much worse. Apparently, Grantaire does behave himself marginally better in public than in our private company. Either that or I had simply not given him enough time to latch into his usual nonsense.

I went home, opened my diary and read and reread Jehan's little poem until I was feeling composed and ready enough to follow Antoine's advice and start planning the next meeting. And come who may.

End Note: And the next chapter is the last in this book :)