Les Misérables

Summary: After studying about the dark past of surrounding kingdoms, Tanya asks Cedric and Sofia if any other kingdom ever had the same level of darkness. This leads to a very unexpected story, filled with despair, hope, severed and forged bonds, and preventable demise. Read Me a Story format! (Takes place 5 years after my season 5 stories)

Disclaimer: I don't own Sofia the First. I own Corban and some other OCs mentioned here. MarionetteJ2X owns Tanya and Nana.

A/N: Well, I hope you can handle a bloodbath, because that's exactly what is about to happen. It's based on Les Mis, after all. You know the rule: Don't have a favorite.

Chapter 16: Falling Down the Line

Cedric thought his chest couldn't tighten worse than when Sofia had been murdered right in front of him, but he was wrong. For the last year or so—longer, perhaps—that he had been fighting for the Zodians' peace and rights, he'd believed the people would rise and return the favor. He'd believed they would join the crusade and stand with him and the other followers of Merlin. He'd hoped when the time to fight came and tensions were high, when people were scrambling for safety, and when his life was in danger for his drive to protect those less fortunate… He'd hoped that the people would come in droves, or even in small groups, and help him and the others defeat the enemy.

He'd thought wrong, and his hopes were dashed to pieces as the barricade was breeched, the sound of terrified women and children shrieking and crying as the soldiers shouted from the other side. That was when the penny dropped. "We're on our own," he told the other followers, seeing the looks of fear and hesitation on their faces. "Zodia did not rise to help us. We will fight the government ourselves, and come what may, we will strive for a better tomorrow for our land."

"I told you they would let you down, Cedric," Greylock responded, but it wasn't in a chiding manner, as he was completely sober by now. Instead, he just smiled sadly. "Lead and we will follow."

"I want to help!" Corban enthused, moving away from James and hurrying to the barricade. "There's a hole in the side over here. I'll go get some of their ammo and weapons and bring them back." He smiled cheekily as he faced the others. "After all, I'm tiny. I'm like a puppy right now. But when I become big and strong, like a grown dog, they better look out. I'll be unstoppable!" Without any pause, he pushed himself through the barricade's hole, much to the alarm of the others.

"Corban, no!" Cedric shouted, hurrying to the barricade.

"He's going to get himself killed!" Slickwell gasped.

"Get back here now, Corban!" James yelled. "This isn't your fight!"

While the others were scrambling to get to the child, Corban, blissfully unaware of the danger around him, hummed and walked along the edge of the barricade, scooping ammunition into a bag around his small body. He even retrieved a knife that seemed to be left behind, though it was stained with blood. "Just needs a washing, I guess," he muttered. When he stood and turned abruptly, his eyes widened, and the air rushed out of his lungs. He barely had enough time to process what had just happened as he struggled to breathe, his head dropping to realize there was a sword somehow wedged into his chest…and through his back, from what he could tell. Blood flooded his mouth, and he could just hear the sounds of his friends calling his name, but he was unable to respond. He was dying…

The soldier who had stabbed Corban had a stony yet mildly conflicted expression on his face. He'd just murdered a child. Inwardly, he was devastated, but this was his job. A fight to the death, regardless of the outcome. There would be sacrifices, and this child was with them. Still, when he felt the weight of the boy slide off his blade and to the ground, dead, for the briefest of moments, he felt regret. He felt—

James roared in anger as he lifted his gun and shot the soldier, killing him instantly. Sobbing, he threw the gun aside and knelt next to Corban's lifeless body, pulling the child into his arms. He looked up, seeing the approaching soldiers, and he quickly dived back to the other side, just as the leader called out to them.

"Give up your foolish fantasies now!" the man called out. "We have you surrounded on all sides. You saw what happens to those who oppose us. One of your own is now gone!"

"He was just a little boy!" Greylock cried out, watching as James cradled the kid to his chest, the boy's blood staining the blonde's outfit and skin.

"A traitor! Just like the rest of you! This is your last warning: disband and break the barricade, or you will die today!"

The followers of Merlin didn't hesitate for a moment. They rallied around Cedric, minds made up, and they pledged their loyalty to him.

"We'll fight to the death, Cedric," Orion acknowledged. "Just tell us what to do."

"Fight…for Zodia," Cedric said simply, a swell of pride in his heart. Merlin's wand stayed tucked into the lining of his jacket. It wouldn't help, and he understood that… When it came down to it, he knew his friends would be the sole ones he could trust. The price they would pay for justice, though? He knew… They would all die today.

What followed was like a blurred line of reality and dreams, and everything seemed to slow down and speed up simultaneously. Desmond was hit by a stray bullet immediately, and it embedded itself in his upper shoulder. Roland, ever watchful, noticed this and scooped up his charge, dodging bullets himself as he disappeared through the café. One by one, the followers of Merlin were stabbed, shot, brutally beaten, or crushed in some manner… The streets were painted red with innocent bloodshed, and the few who escaped trudged through the blood, leaving shocking footprints behind in the process.

Cedric and Greylock were the only original members left—the sole survivors, as far as anyone else knew. The barricade was broken apart completely, and they were forced to flee. Instinctively, they rushed to put distance between themselves and the enemy, which found them cornered at the top of the café. An open window behind them was the only way out, but it would be a coin toss whether they survived such a drop. Instead of cowardly ending their own lives, though, they stood bravely side by side, awaiting their fates.

"You didn't leave," Cedric breathed, his body exhausted and his spirit strained but also light as he smiled at his friend. "You stayed… Even when you didn't believe…"

"I told you, Cedric," Greylock whispered, just as the soldiers entered the upper room. "I have always believed in you… You're the reason I stayed, and why I wanted to believe in the cause. I don't regret it." Seeing the soldiers taking their aim, he reached out and grabbed Cedric's hand, stepping slightly in front of him. "Kill us both with one shot." He turned briefly to Cedric, his eyes showing a softer expression now. "Will you permit it?"

Cedric nodded and had barely given his friend a fond smile when he felt a piercing intrusion in his chest, and then another, and another… Greylock was already dead at his feet, their hands having separated. Instinctively, he reached for the curtains as he fell backwards, but they only tangled around his body as he fell out the window, his eyes closed, blood gushing from severed arteries.

The leader was gone. Everyone was gone. They'd lost their fight, but not their hope or sense of honor. And even as the soldiers left the upper room, they had to admire how poetic the whole scenario was, with Greylock crumpled at his friend's feet, and Cedric's body symbolically swinging like a persistent flag amidst a battle.

Several minutes later, Baileywick, dressed in his full garb, arrived at the scene. He was unable to move as swiftly as he used to, but he was determined to adhere to his duties. However, even he felt a pang of guilt as he saw the fallen bodies of women, children, and even babies on the streets. James, who had been holding onto Corban's fallen form the whole time, was lying dead beside him, his arms still cradling the young child. The inspector could feel anguish within him, a sense of regret flooding him. Innocents who'd lost their lives… He'd never wanted…

The scraping sound of an open grate caught his attention, and Baileywick turned to his left, seeing the opening to a sewer that ran beneath the city. Eyes narrowing, he decided to investigate, his instincts telling him that Roland, whom he did not see amongst the fallen bodies, could very well have escaped. It wouldn't be his first time, after all. "I will bring him to justice at last," he muttered, moving down the bloody streets toward his next stop: the only other exit from the bowels of the city.

To be continued…

Next Chapter: Irreconciled