49

The following day, Éponine met Valjean at the Guardian's building and she walked him to the library.

The walk began quietly; neither of them spoke, just enjoying the general bustle on the streets around them. It was almost awkward, almost uncomfortable, but they settled into each other's company well enough.

It felt strange to be walking alongside someone who was not Combeferre or Enjolras or Courfeyrac, and she was so unused to speaking to men that weren't them that when Valjean spoke to her she didn't register what was happening straight away.

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I was...thinking. What did you just say?"

"I asked how far away the library is from here," Valjean said.

"Oh, not far," she said, smoothing a hand over her hair. "It's a wonderful building. So many books..."

"I never had much time for reading when I was alive," Valjean said. "Not in the last few years, anyway. But my daughter...She enjoyed to read. Sometimes, we would read together." There was a wistful note to his voice that made Éponine's chest ache.

"Reading is a fairly new past time for me," Éponine admitted. "I didn't have much time for it myself when I was alive. My mother liked to read..."

"What sort of things do you read here?" Valjean began to shrug out of his jacket, draping it over one arm.

"Mysteries," Éponine said, with a smile. "There's a series I've been reading, about this girl who solves murders...They're quite thrilling."

"Yes, Cosette enjoyed being spooked every now and then," Valjean said. "I used to tell her ghost stories, when she was little. She used to enjoy them so much."

Éponine wriggled her shoulders, uncomfortable at the mentions of Cosette. It just made her think of Marius, and she wasn't sure how she felt about him now. And there were some stirrings of guilt in her lower abdomen.

"But she enjoyed the sweeter stories far more," he continued. "You know, fairy stories. I used to try making up my own for her, but they never worked. I'm not really that kind of man."

"At least you tried," Éponine said. "My father never bothered. Not even when he loved me."

Valjean's eyes flickered towards her. "No," he said, eventually. "He never seemed the type."

"He wasn't a good man. Not like you." Éponine said it honestly, because she knew that Valjean knew exactly what type of man her father had been. "And I am not a good person, either, but sometimes I feel bitter that I am dead and he is not."

"You were a child," Valjean said.

"That doesn't excuse much," Éponine replied.

"I don't think you're a bad person," Valjean said. "Not at all. You're..." He gave a small sigh as he trailed off.

"With all due respect, monsieur, you do not know me very well." Éponine bit her lip.

"That is a fair point," Valjean said. "But you said I was a good man just moments ago, and I could disagree with you on that."

"You nearly gave your life to save Marius'," Éponine countered. "That is good."

"Was it?" Valjean raised his eyebrows. "Or was it selfish? I did it for Cosette, after all. It was not as selfless as some may think."

"Better than me," Éponine countered, but before she could say anything more, and condemn herself in Valjean's eyes, they reached the library.

Éponine took in the man's obvious awe at the size and grandeur of the building, and secretly thought about what he would make of Clémence's home. She took his momentary surprise as they climbed the steps to it to reassure herself that she hadn't said what she was about to say – the truth, that she had wanted Marius to die that night, and had planned to die alongside him.

If anything could have convinced Valjean she was not a good person, surely it would have been that.

"There are so many books," Valjean murmured, as they began to wander around the maze of shelves together.

"And not one of them could be found in the human world," Éponine said, managing a smile at the curiosity on Valjean's face.

"I don't even know where to begin looking," he admitted.

"Well, I'm going to find a book for myself," Éponine said. She gave him a small smile. "I'll meet you at the front desk in a bit, if that's okay...The factual books are downstairs, if you wanted to look for them."

He nodded, and they parted ways.

Éponine was glad to be alone, and glad to be in the maze of bookshelves where she couldn't be seen. Once she was sure she had put as much distance between herself and Valjean as possible, she clutched at the shelves and closed her eyes, suddenly feeling desperately sad. Images rushed through her head, images she had fought so hard to crush all this time. The sound of gunfire, a ball tearing through her hand, the soft fall of rain and the feel of Marius' arms around her; the loneliness she had felt when she had first arrived here on that giant barricade, her rage when she realised all she had lost by trying to coax Marius into death.

She had decided to take on Valjean's friendship because of her promise to Fantine, but she didn't know if she could. Valjean was a true link to Marius and the memory of him. Of course the students had been his friend, but they rarely spoke of him; as a group they rarely spoke of anything to do with their lives in the realms of the living. She had become used to the silence, used to the denial of the past's existence, used to the fact they never discussed their mistakes.

So she had gone so long without really having to acknowledge her death and the circumstances around it, including Marius, but Valjean was completely different to all the students. Marius had been his family, in his own way, and there was Cosette too. Who better than Cosette to represent the demons of Éponine's past?

"Éponine?"

Her eyes flew open. She twisted her head to look at the person who had spoken to her. It was Inès. She took in the other girl's appearance and her eyes narrowed. She had done something different with her hair – it wasn't as curly, and it was pinned away from her face. It made her look older, Éponine supposed, but she wondered what had prompted it.

"Inès," she said, eventually. "How are you?"

"I think I should be asking you that," Inès said. "You don't look very happy."

"I was thinking," Éponine said. "What has made you venture outside of the house?"

Inès suddenly looked shifty, and Éponine's eyes fell to the book that Inès was clutching to her chest. It was bound in dark pink leather, and Inès held it so that the cover faced her and Éponine could not read what it said.

"I wanted to get something," Inès muttered.

Éponine let go of the bookcase and stepped towards her. "What is that?" she asked, curiously.

"It is nothing," Inès insisted. "Just – just a book."

"What book?" Éponine reached out for it and Inès jerked her whole body backwards with such force she stumbled and dropped the book as she flung out her arms to steady herself.

There was a long pause where both girls eyed up the book now lying on the floor. Curiosity had grown inside Éponine and it was for that reason she found herself lunging for the book just as Inès did. There was a small wrestling match until Éponine managed to drive her elbow into Inès' stomach and snatch up the book.

She danced away from the other girl, turning the book over in her hands to read the front cover.

The title was written in elegant gold lettering, and it read, The Art of Wooing for Young Ladies.

Éponine's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline and she raised her eyes to meet Inès. Inès' face had gone bright red and their scuffle had led to her neatly pinned up hair falling out. She was clearly moments away from beginning to pout or scream, and that made her look a lot younger.

"Inès," Éponine began, but the other girl held out one hand, palm facing upwards.

"Give it back," she said, her words clipped.

Wordlessly, Éponine handed the book back.

Inès hugged it to her chest like it was something very precious to her. "I'll see you later," she mumbled.

"Wait, Inès –"

"Goodbye," Inès threw over her shoulder as she turned to walk away.

Inès rounded the corner. For a moment, Éponine considered running after her, but decided to return to her position gripping the bookshelf and closing her eyes.

This time, however, a newer, very different thought ran around her head: who was Inès trying to woo?

A/N: People might have noticed that I've changed the description to say it is Eponine/Courfeyrac and then Eponine/Enjolras...I hope this doesn't upset anyone, but it will eventually be Eponine/Enjolras, it's just a long, long way off for the moment :)