I GOT MY LAPTOP BACK! It's like being reunited with a lost love.
I've been writing like crazy the last few days, despite exams (I'm an idiot but hey ho) so there's this now and 47 definitely tomorrow - most of it's written, it was all going to be one but that was like 4500 words and I thought you'd all hate me :L
Thanks again for patience! Jodie and Yuthika, you're beauties :)
Disclaimer: Alack and alay, not this day. (DID YOU GUYS SEE THE HOBBIT YET? IT'S MINT!)
Azelma ran. She ran faster than she'd ever run before, arms wrapped protectively around her swollen belly to protect her baby from harm. That's all that matters now. Just RUN!
She felt like she'd been running for hours: black spots were obscuring her vision; her lungs were on fire; her legs were like lead. That must be far enough, I must have got away. I'll just –
Staggering over to the wall, she leaned against it with all her weight and breathed as deeply as she could. The baby was kicking like crazy, as she used the last of her energy to stroke her tummy and calm them down. 'It's ok, baby' she rasped, breathlessly 'we're getting away from here.'
6.15pm: the wasteland around the Elephant of the Bastille.
Enjolras stood behind the elephant statue, reading through his speech notes one last time. Les Amis milled around him, sneaking looks around the statue at the growing crowd, growing more excitable and astonished by the second. 'Enjolras, there's got to be 400 people out there, this is amazing! How the hell did you convince them?!' exclaimed Courfeyrac.
'Actually… it wasn't me.' he admitted.
Silence. 'What? Who then?' Bahorel grunted in confusion. As if on cue, a tall, well-built man with a confident air strode towards them.
'Excuse me?' he asked. 'Do you know… well. A girl?'
'Not bragging, but I know several' grinned Courfeyrac, prompting a snigger from Les Amis.
'Yeah, well… a specific one. She's kind of short, thin... brunette curls. All fiery and –'
Enjolras stepped in before he could get too pissed off. 'Ép – I mean, she sent you here? For the meeting?'
The man looked a little relieved. 'Yes. You must be Les Amis?'
'Yes.'
'Oh, good… is she here?' What's it to you?
'Not yet' supplied Feuilly.
'Oh. Ok. I'm Pierre.'
'Hi Pierre. Do you like ice cream, rom-coms and long walks on the beach?' Grantaire piped up in a sing-song voice.
'I…what?'
'Trying to assess whether you're the right kind of guy for our Po… buddy.'
'Oh! No! Wrong end of the stick, I'm afraid. I'm gay. Very gay. King of the gays.' Enjolras breathed a sigh of relief he didn't realise he'd been holding, and almost burst out laughing at the look on Grantaire's face. He looks like he's seen a ghost.
'I would like to talk to her though, when she gets here.' Get in line, pal.
'She'll not be long' supplied Combeferre.
'Great.'
An awkward silence fell across the group. Well, this is horrible. Enjolras thought to himself. Éponine, where are you?
Gavroche heard the smashing and slamming of the front door from the cellar, so he knew his Pa was really gone. Thank God for that. Now, escape.
'Can you get through the bars, Vroche?' suggested Jacques.
'Na. Too much baking. Is there anythin' you could cut 'em with?'
'Nothin' strong enuff.'
'Dammit.'
'Don't let Ép hear ya say that'
'I wish she could right now Jacques, she'd get us out.'
'How?'
'She'd get… THAT'S IT!'
'What's it?'
Gavroche just grinned. 'Jacques, we are getting' me outta here.'
6.27pm: the wasteland.
Éponine fought through the crowd, astonished at the turn-out. Looks like that guy really came through! she thought with a grin.
Walking past the giant elephant, she expected Gav's little head to pop out the top, but he was nowhere to be seen, either on top, or with the group of her friends she found behind the statue. Courf must have convinced him to stay at home… must ask him how, the genius.
'Here you are!' Grantaire called out in a strangely high-pitched voice. Someone's surprisingly happy to see me.
'Here I am.' She replied calmly.
'Here you are.' Enjolras breathed. She turned to meet his eyes, but the wrench in her gut as she stopped herself forced her eyes aside, to look at the tall guy next to him… the student from earlier!
'It's you!' she smiled at him. 'Nice turnout!'
'He's called Pierre' grinned Courfeyrac. Is he ok…?
'Hi Pierre…'
'…Hi. Well, people are angry about everything. It wasn't hard to convince them.'
'Thanks, though. It really helps.' She replied.
Combeferre started to talk to Pierre, engaging the rest of the guys in the conversation, and Enjolras murmured to her softly 'can we talk?'
I don't know if I can handle that. 'Depends what you want to say' she replied under her breath, eyes meeting his. They were deep blue and unreadable.
'Just that… I hope you aren't upset about earlier. I…' His eyes clouded over. 'Look, I'm not expecting anything, it was stupid. Forget it. It won't happen again, I know we're not like that.'
She knew it was stupid because she was going to reject him anyway, but the words still stung. I don't think I CAN forget about it.
It was stupid?
We're not like that?
It won't happen again…
Picturing the white wedding and the faceless bride again, she replied 'Great. That's what I was going to say. We're not like that.'
'Exactly.'
'Glad we cleared the air.' She bit at him. His eyes widened in surprise and she turned away before she could say anything else stupid. It's for the best, it's for the best, it's for the best. Just be friends. It's for the best.
She thought for a second he would say something else, but he just nodded to Combeferre and climbed up on the elephant to start his speech.
He doesn't even want you anyway. It's for the best.
Montparnasse watched proceedings with heavily disguised interest. He'd always been cynical about the angry do-gooding type – especially young, rich, pretty boys like this one – but he had to admit that this bloke could really speak to a crowd: all around them they were jumping up and down, fists in the air, loving every word he was saying. Montparnasse felt the anger radiating off them all, and it started to get into his head; if he was being totally honest, he completely agreed with this bloke. Poor people were being done over… but he had more… personal reasons for being there today.
She hadn't seen him when she'd arrived; he'd made sure of that, pretending to be part of the group next to him when she marched past, a determined look on her face. Then she'd disappeared behind that elephant, and this bloke had popped up a few minutes later, looking pissed off. Speaking of the blonde bombshell, he looked like he was in for the long haul, maybe it was time to go and find her. While everyone was distracted. He made a move to sneak around to the back of the elephant, when a bloke in the crowd shouted 'IT'S NOT LIKE THIS IS YOUR PROBLEM, POSH BOY. WHY SHOULD WE LISTEN TO YOU?!'
Montparnasse looked up with interest as silence fell across the wasteland. Wonder how he'll handle this one.
Blondie seemed to consider the heckler's point for a minute before he spoke up again. 'You're right. Most of this doesn't directly affect me personally; theoretically I should just stand back and accept the perks of being well-off. But, do you know what… I CAN'T. I CAN'T sit by and watch while hard-working French men and women are being treated like livestock, not even granted basic human rights! Just because it doesn't affect me if I take my parents' money – which I don't, by the way – doesn't mean that I can stand by and watch it happen. I'm human, too. I'm French, just like you. And I'm not going to keep quiet about what I believe.'
A murmur of appreciation ran through the crowd, but they were obviously less convinced than before.
'Tell you what, you don't even have to listen to me. Listen to someone it HAS affected.' He turned around, bending down to talk to someone behind the elephant. Then a minute later, he held out a hand to help up… Éponine?!
She said something quietly to him, looking worried, but he must have said something to reassure her because she looked at him for a second, then squared her shoulders and stepped to stand further forward, facing the crowd. She didn't say anything for a second or two, just stood there in silence looking out at the slightly confused group of people. A head popped up behind her: dark brown curls and a five-o'clock-shadow. Something in the back of his mind said that's her best friend… R? The drunk guy. He handed Éponine a microphone and she took it with a smile.
Turning back to face the crowd, she lifted the microphone to her lips. 'Erm… hi. My name's Éponine… you probably don't know me, I don't go to a university or anything. If you do, it's probably because I've nicked something off you, or you've spent a little too much time in the inns down San Michel, in which case… sorry, I guess?
I wasn't born rich, or privileged. My family never had much money, but when I was about eight we lost what little we did have, including our home, and my father began a life of crime. He stole, he killed, he threatened people… including me, and my two little siblings. He beat us up, he made us work all hours of the day and night, he… well. I was made to do things nobody should have to do, let alone a 14 year old girl.
All I know is, my life pretty much sucked until I met these guys. They showed me that I could be more than what I was, showed me a better way of living my life. They showed me that I don't have to just sit here quietly and take this bullshit! They showed me that we CAN change the way things are, we just have to be brave, and stand up for ourselves. We just have to stand up and say, this ISN'T ok, and we won't stand for it. Maybe you don't believe we can change the world, but I do. And I have every reason not to, so if I do, why shouldn't you? These guys can do it. I know they can. So are you with them?'
She considered for a second, clearly unsure of what to say. Then she spoke up, more confident than before. 'Look, I'm not very good at saying this stuff, not like En- well. You've seen a much better speaker than me already today, clearly. There is something I'm better at than him, though – well' a cheeky grin appeared on her face, lighting up her features and bringing up those trademark dimples. 'There're a few things actually, but specifically, I'm a bit more… musically talented. So if it's ok, I'll sing you a song about how I feel about all this. It comes from a book this lot gave me for my birthday, and it was a poem, so I'm kind of making the tune up as I go along, just… bear with me.'
She's actually doing it Enjolras realised with a start. He'd mentioned it a while ago, after the Montparnasse incident, suggested she sang at rallies, but she hadn't seemed keen.
Do you hear the people sing?
Singing the song of angry men
'I don't know, Enj… I don't want my Pa or anyone finding me. Not to mention the police, or… you know I support you 100%, but I think it's best if I keep a kind of low profile? Sorry.'
It is the music of a people who will NOT be slaves again!
And yet, here she was. He felt a smile of pride twitching at the corners of his mouth. That's my girl. Well… sort of.
When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums
There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes.
Grantaire was floored. He'd never expected Éponine to get up and speak, let alone tell that story… it had shocked even him, it sounded like she'd been a prostitute… why wouldn't she tell him that?
Will you join in our crusade?
Who will be strong and stand with me?
He looked over at Enjolras, about to say something, but stopped when he saw the look on his love's face.
Beyond the barricade is there a world you long to see?
Enjolras' eyes were alight: shining beacons of emotion, bluer than the bluest skies. His cheeks were flushed, and he was breathing heavily, as though determined to keep his breaths even. His mouth twitched with a repressed smile.
Then join in the fight that will give you the right to be free!
Grantaire felt suddenly sick. He'd never seen that look on Enjolras' face before, and it could only mean one thing. He loves her.
Éponine felt a bit silly, stood on top of an elephant statue, singing away to hundreds of strangers with no music. Still, anything was better than talking rubbish on top of an elephant statue in front of hundreds of strangers.
Do you hear the people sing?
Singing the song of angry men
She became suddenly aware that hers was not the only voice. Courfeyrac, and Jehan, and Bahorel were up there with her, and… was it her imagination or had a few people in the crowd had joined in?
It is the music of a people who will NOT be slaves again!
When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums
There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!
The other voices fell away and then it was just her again, as nobody else knew the words.
Will you give all you can give so that our banner may advance?
Some will fall and some will live, will you stand up and take your chance?
The blood of the martyrs will water the meadows of France!
When the chorus came back, all of Les Amis had climbed up with her and were singing their hearts out, but she could barely hear them over the roar of the crowd, singing along with every word.
DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING?
SINGING THE SONG OF ANGRY MEN
IT IS THE MUSIC OF A PEOPLE WHO WILL NOT BE SLAVES AGAIN!
She almost grinned with happiness, and turned to look at Enjolras, stood next to her. He looked down and smiled at her through his words and she had to repress the urge to take his hand. You're not that girl, remember? Don't pretend. It was hard, though. She'd never seen anyone look so alive.
WHEN THE BEATING OF YOUR HEART ECHOES THE BEATING OF THE DRUMS
THERE IS A LIFE ABOUT TO START WHEN TOMORROW COMES!
Thénardier was seething, his expansive belly a pit of pure rage. When I get my hands on that little slut…
He strode into the bar, expecting to see his daughter stood waiting by the glass wash where he'd left her, but the room was empty. With a frenzied yell of wrath, he charged out onto the street, kicking over chairs as he went.
He saw her in minutes, leaning on a wall for support, face drained of colour. Rasping breaths seemed to shake her whole body as she stroked her disgusting stomach. Gotcha. Knew there was a reason I kept ya thin… can't run very far, can ya?
He approached her from the side, and with a punch in the stomach for good measure, grabbed her by the hair and dragged her away down the street. I'll fucking teach ya…
DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUN
back tomorrow, promise.
Don't let that stop you reviewing though! I want your thoughts, pleaaaaaaaaaase? :)
Also Will, if you get this far... I believe you now. But not after one chapter, you cheat! Even if you did review (thanks pet) ;) x