Chapter 3

Eponine watched Enjolras make his way through his men, many of them patting him on the shoulder and he returned it with a slight smile, pondering about their quick, yet very insightful conversation she had shared with him. She felt every word shared with him was uncovering something about this angelic figure that had always puzzled her. She quickly brushed her thoughts away as she continued to talk to Combeferre, laughing at his jokes.

"'Ponine!" Marius said, pushing his way past Combeferre.

Eponine jumped, tearing her gaze away from the man who was mid-sentence to meet Marius'. Marius seemed to be virtually unaware of Combeferre's presence as ignored the annoyed look he was getting. "Yes? What can I do for you, Monsieur?" Eponine answered, throwing Combeferre an apology gaze as he walked away, though her heart seemed to speed up at the sight of Marius.

"I've finished the letter and I would like you to read it over before you take it to Cosette," he stated as if it wasn't even a question that she may not be able to take the letter.

Her heart sank, "Of course," she said. She took the letter from his hand, being careful to brush her hand against his during the act. She read it over, physically having to control every ounce of her being to keep from showing her grief. "It's perfect," she said after she had finished reading it.

"You think so?" he asked.

"You seem to be a natural writer, for this letter could make any woman fall in love with you," she answered looking into his puppy dog eyes.

He smiled widely, "Perfect! Well, off you go then!" he said playfully shooing Eponine towards the door, taking her hand and gently pulling her to face him right before she left, "I really could not have asked for a better friend 'Ponine. You're a Godsend." He pulled her into a quick embrace before turning back into the Café.

Seeing the happiness in his features along with his parting statement reminded Eponine why she had decided to bring Marius and Cosette together in the first place. She longed to make the man who had always acted as a temporary escape from her frightening and morbid life happy. She knew she made him happy even without introducing him to Cosette. She knew the playful and teasing banter they constantly exchanged not only meant the world to her, but also meant much to Marius as well. It was not enough though. She knew it would not be enough, and she longed to be part of Marius' happiness. If that meant she would put herself through pain to be the reason Marius has found the woman who now seemed to be his world, then so be it.

Eponine quickly ran through the streets of Paris, focusing on which street to turn at, though she could walk through Paris, knowing exactly where she was in her sleep. Her feet came to a sudden halt as she reached 55 Rue Plumet. She slowly walked to the gates making sure that she stayed in the shadows as a dainty, blonde figure scurried out the door and to the gate. The figure was wearing a dress that most people of her class would deem to be somewhat plain but as Eponine looked down at her own tattered dress she couldn't help but envy Cosette.

"Do you have the message from my beloved?" Cosette asked in a light, airy voice.

"Yes Mademoiselle," Eponine answered grimacing at her own raspy, dry voice, and quickly handed her the letter.

Cosette took the letter and tried to hand Eponine what seemed to be seven francs. Eponine stopped and stared at the hand with a disgusted look on her face that her messy dark hair hid. "I don't need your money nor your pity, Mademoiselle," she said lacing the former title with condescending bitterness.

Cosette's eyes grew wide as she swiftly put the money into her pocket mumbling, "Of course."

Eponine knew that Cosette was trying to help and that the money could save her from the hefty beating she knew she would receive when she returned home, but her pride would not allow her to accept money from the woman who stole Marius away from her.

"He was never mine to lose," her mind reasoned. She shook away the thought and turned to walk away. Nonetheless, she rarely took charity from anyone. She would get money her own way, which included pick-pocketing wealthy drunks who would not notice their pockets getting a few francs lighter. She took a detour to a street that was home to many wealthy men, and conveniently, had a bar located on the corner. As she rounded the corner she passed a group of drunken men huddled around a bar fight that had broken out. She skillfully slid her hand into one of the richer looking men's pockets and pulled out the francs without anyone noticing. She was a Thénardier after all, and they were cunning and stealthy, it seemed to run in their genes. She counted the francs and frowned instantly. She had only managed to get five. Though it may be enough to get out of a beating if she was lucky, luck was never on her side. It walked around her, gracing her neighbors and friends with its presence but never once stopped at her to give her a reassuring pat on the back.

She walked along the narrow passageways of the never-ending labyrinth that she had come to know so well. She took streets that were only known to those people who were raised to know how to hide and disappear. She walked among those who were wretched out of need, a victim of circumstance, and she walked among those who seemed to be good, hardworking, profitable men who would not hesitate to take the innocence of a girl who was forced out there from hunger. She walked without a fault in her step, living in her daydreams of Marius walking besides her, his hand draped protectively around her waist as they passed men leering at her with want and greed.

She was taken abruptly out of her daydreams by an arm grabbing her waist with the free hand wrap around her mouth as she was pulled into the shadows. She bit down instinctively on the hand around her mouth, as she attempted to scream through his hand. She was slammed against the wall and was trapped by the body pushed against her.

"Now, now, my littl' 'Ponine. It's good to see ya' haven' lost your fire. I truly hoped I didn' tire you out from the last time we met." A man with raven black hair and cold blue eyes said, licking his dry lips longingly. He slowly withdrew his hand from her mouth pushing her a bit harder against the wall, as if warning her that if she screams, she'll regret it.

"Let me go, 'Parnasse," she said with the same amount of warning in her voice, flashing him a deathly glare that would have a normal man shiver in fear, but Montparnasse was not a normal man.

He smiled at her, "Now why would I wan' to do that?" He asked as his hands started to snake along her body. "I'm gettin' tired of this cat an' mouse game we keep playin' 'Ponine. A man has his needs an' when they aren' met, a man starts gettin' desperate. An' you have not met my needs recently." He pushed himself closer to her.

"From what I have experienced, you aren't much of a man," she said defiantly and unafraid, glancing at the tight part of his pants.

He laughed a menacing laugh and grabbed her arms tight enough to leave bruises. "You little bitch!" He said with a terrifying grin spread across his face, knowing she had just given him reasoning to be extra rough with her, not that he needed a reason anyway, "Oh, I'll make you regret that." He loomed dangerously over her, his nails digging into her flesh causing it to break and bleed.

Being raised how she was, she was often put in situations like this. She had mapped out an escape plan the moment she was caught. She swiftly brought her knee up, hitting him with full force as he released her doubling over in pain. She jumped over him and ran as quickly as she could to her house not stopping once to look back.

She threw the door open and closed it, finally allowing her to release the breath she had just realized she had been holding.

"And where the hell do you think you were?!" She heard her father scream as she felt her hair being roughly pulled by him.

Her trembling hands fumbled in her pocket to retrieve the francs she managed to pickpocket and presented them to her father. He gruffly took them with his free hand, still keeping a hold of her hair as he counted them.

"Only five? Well, you're just going to have to make up for the difference tomorrow." He said referring to the scheme she had taken part of since men started finding her attractive.

She would stand on the street and wait until she spotted a drunken, rich man. She lured them with her charm into an alleyway, promising them they could have their way with her. Her father would then show up and knock him out, robbing him flat. Of course, her father would also use this scheme as punishment. Sometimes he would wait, or never show up at all. With Eponine being malnourished and physically smaller than many of the men, she only escaped half the time. When she couldn't escape, she would be left with ripped clothing and tears streaking down her face as her father would come, collect the money the men would leave her, and head back to the house.

It had not always been like this, the first time he didn't show up was an accident. He had been distracted by matters concerning his gang and their next robbing. When he finally showed up he found Eponine bloody and shaking violently. "Why did you not come?" She whispered barely audibly.

To that, he laughed and said, "Well I guess I can make money off you in more than one ways now. Get up, you look pathetic. There is work to be done." He then turned and walked away. She was thirteen. Sometimes she would try and fight her father, telling him she would not be a part of his schemes any longer. The attempts would leave her in worse shape than she would have been if she had gone.

She now, looked at her father with no fear cross her face, "It'll be my pleasure," she said with sarcasm weaved into her words.

To that, he backhanded her across the cheek leaving it swollen as he wiped away the drop of blood on the corner of her mouth. "Be thankful it wasn't any more than that. Get the hell up to your room."

She truly was thankful, she had become accustom to constant beatings, taking beats that were meant for her and taking beatings that were meant for her siblings. She made her way up to her room to be met by wide, worried, green eyes. "I heard Papa yell, are you okay?" asked Eponine's little sister, Azelma.

Eponine smiled and combed through Azelma's dirty blonde hair with her fingers, "Yes, it was just one hit. Nothing bad at all. Now, go to bed, 'Zelma, you need your sleep. I don't want you worrying about me every time I come home."

Azelma visibly relaxed and smiled as she settled into a deep sleep.