A/N: Upsi. A whole chapter of E/E...

Thanks again for all the fabulous support I received. You really keep me going with all your reviews and comments.

Love

Spirit

Chapter 54: A whole new world

"You misunderstand me. I was merely being specific. In my experience, if you can not say what you mean, you can never mean what you say. The details are everything."

If he was surprised, he hid it well.

Or maybe he had already understood, that while his disguise was tailored to fool the curious bystander or hired watchman, it would not stand against a man who had had half a day to discover who exactly was seeking an audience with him, and an imperium of his own kind to do so.

But Enjolras, being met with Cortez' greeting, responded with a stiff, careful bow that betrayed nothing of what might be going on behind his eyes.

He was good at that when he needed it. One of the few assets they had in this conversation.

"Monsieur Cortez, I am told", he gave back, all formality, and Cortez seemed to like it, for his posture spoke of ease and almost pleasure.

"Just so", he replied. "Although, frankly, I prefer the address Don Rafael."

Enjolras gave the tiniest of shrugs.

"However you wish", he gave back, and only the very quick motion of one of the corners of his lips told Éponine that he was somewhat annoyed.

Probably he thought Cortez' behavior somewhat petty. Come to think of it – it was.

"And Mademoiselle Jondrette, if I am well informed", Cortez turned to her, and Éponine nodded, finding herself greeting him formally as well, almost against her will. She saved polite addresses for very few people – usually when she wanted or needed something from them – but she had to admit that something in Cortez' manner seemed to call forth that kind of reaction.

She was not sure she knew how he did it.

"You are", she answered, and he nodded with satisfaction.

"These fine fellows", he pointed towards his two companions, "are Don Miguel and Don Alessandro. Associates of mine, if you may."

The older one was probably the same age as Cortez, old enough to be her father, but just so. He distinctively did not look Spanish with his balding bright blond hair and plump face, but the other, younger one did, and after a moment's consideration Éponine saw enough similarity to find the father in the son as well. No matter the difference in names.

Well. Names were nothing particularly solid in this world of theirs.

Cortez, the father, meanwhile turned towards Babet, as Enjolras bestowed the same stiff greeting to the others that he had already offered to Cortez himself. A quick exchange between the two men had Babet leaving after a short goodbye to Éponine and a nod to Enjolras, and the two found themselves alone with the ghost that they had summoned.

"Why don't you take a seat?" Cortez asked, his gesture spreading wide. "I would hate for the rumor to spread that I am being an ungracious host."

Enjolras gave a calm thanks and sat down in the round of Cortez and his associates. Éponine followed, trying for the same nonchalance that Enjolras seemed to command with enviable ease. In this circle of scoundrels playing at respectability, he seemed to fit in well, superficially at least. He drank of the tea that was offered to him – fine, strong, indian tea, as Cortez claimed, although Éponine had to admit that she would not have been able to tell the difference.

Enjolras, however, after taking a sip, raised his brow.

"Courtesy of the East India Trading Company?" he inquired with a certain irony. Cortez smiled thinly.

"Good business relationships are the lifeblood of a trading house, Monsieur Enjolras." He took a sip out of the cup, and absent-mindedly Éponine realized that he did have the grace of one born to the upper classes. The way of holding the cup carefully was painstakingly similar in all three men. Éponine felt clumsy in comparison.

"That may well be", Enjolras answered, leaning back and placing his hands loosely on his knee. "Unfortunately, I would know very little of the monetary field." Éponine had to give him credit for trying. His heart was in the conversation; that was easily to be seen. It was an unusual picture with the dark locks, but in his clear eyes she recognized just the tiniest hint of magnetism.

She knew he held no love for what they were attempting to do. But he seemed to have decided to follow through, at least.

"Ah", Cortez twinkled. "That's curious. Given your… aspirations, if you don't mind me saying so. I may not be a studied man as you obviously are, but have you ever thought of how you are going to proceed once you succeed at what you actually aspire? How are you… fulfilling your promises?"

Enjolras frowned, and Éponine rather sensed than saw him stiffening.

"There is only one, single promise, Don Rafael", Enjolras answered calmly, "and that is the true incarnation of the principles of the revolution. Egalite – where each man may stand next to the other as an equal, the peasant next to the noble, the worker next to the student. Fraternite – where we turn to one another, lend a helping hand to those in need and our appreciation to those worthy of it. And Liberte – where everyone is free to chose their own path, unhindered by prejudice, birth or other ridiculous barriers meant to hold back what is intended to thrive."

"Ah yes, good points." Cortez nodded. "Although, a trifle abstract, if you take my meaning. This has been known forty years ago, and clever people since then have elaborated on the subject, and still the world is as it is… The way to hell, they say, is plastered with good intentions."

"And yet", Enjolras gave back, "an intention, a thought, is the spark that everything can and may grow from."

Cortez smiled.

"And yet, this is the easy part. Let's get practical for a moment and just assume your little uprising has succeeded. Louis Phillipe is gone, and all the world at your disposal. I will readily agree that there is darkness all around and many people in need of help, but as the old saying goes, a coin can be spent only once, and before it can be spent, it has to be earned." He raised his brow. "Who will earn the money in this new world of yours?"

Enjolras raised a brow.

"You seem to confuse the principles of revolution with the – of course equally praiseworthy but completely different – principle of charity. The fact that a person will obtain an opportunity does not relieve him of the responsibility to take it."

"And that's sometimes all it needs", Éponine intercepted on an impulse, for Enjolras had voiced something that had gone through her head for a few days now. "That's all it lacks and that's all it would need."

His head turned around to her in a sudden movement, brown curls falling into his forehead, obscuring the brows that were twitching together slightly as he tried and succeeded to capture her gaze. She was not quite sure what had called forth this reaction, but something in his gaze told her she had struck a chord, something that was resonating through the room and through him.

She nodded slightly, and there was a minuscule twitch of his lips, not quite a smile and yet something reaching out in this direction.

"Just so", he answered, before he turned his gaze back on Cortez.

The fake Spanish man gave her a thorough glance before he continued.

"How interesting", he said, placing two fingers against his lips in a thoughtful gesture. "And how much to the teachings of a certain Monsieur Rousseau, if you forgive me for saying so. I can respect your words, although I will have to say I do not necessarily agree. But maybe – just maybe - this is because you and I wander in two different worlds. You see humanity at its best, and I see it at its worst, and it has shaped both of us to what we are now."

Enjolras narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

Cortez opened his mouth to a wide smile, flashing teeth and red lips appearing behind the black moustache.

"Nothing of consequence, Monsieur. I am just making conversation. And I will admit to the sin of curiosity when it comes to you and your plans. It may be old-fashioned, but I like to know the people I am doing business with, so please, indulge me and let us dwell on the matter for a moment. I am a businessman, and business is of interest to me. So. How does your idea transfer into the real world?"

Enjolras considered this for a moment, and then he placed his fingers against each other.

"I fear, then, I will have no simple answer for you. I have told you the goals, and I am not under the illusion that they will be easily achieved. I believe in the possibility, however. A friend of mine…", and a short smile ghosted over his face, "would say that education is the key to it, and although this is a long road to travel, there is certainly truth in his words. Another key would be found in the fact that work must be paid, and in a way that it allows a living. And that a man should be valued by his deeds, and not his birth. Money and business, you ask me – and you may well, because this is your profession – but money is a symptom, Don Rafael, not a cause. A seed sown on sand will not thrive. But plant it in fertile soil, give water and allow access to the sun and it will grow."

He let his hands sink, and Éponine realized that Cortez and his two associates were listening with interest, as Enjolras continued.

"It is the goodness and capabilities of man that will determine the success or failing of our deeds, as is only proper."

Cortez laughed silently.

"This is a courageous thing to say."

"This is the right thing to say", Enjolras gave back with iron in his tone, and Cortez looked up, frowning.

"The right thing – maybe. But doing the right thing – which is not necessarily the clever thing, mind you – has gotten you where you are now, has it not?"

Éponine could see and feel Enjolras tensing up, his fingers clenching into the armrests of his chair as he subtly bowed forward. If Cortez sensed the danger he did not act upon it, but why should he? This was his stronghold. His domain. Probably his house.

"I think some idiots in the government have gotten us where we are right now", she intercepted, before Enjolras could say something. "And fear of what we could be."

Cortez placed his chin on his thumb and regarded Éponine thoughtfully. He had a strong gaze of his own, she realized, but she had not been Thénardier for nothing and held it unblinking.

"That may be correct too", he answered after a moment with a slight shrug. "Yet you will admit that you came here because after openness you now feel the need of a subtler path."

"That's true." As long as she had Cortez' attention, Éponine tried to steer the conversation away from the dangerous ground it had entered into, and further into the matter at hand. "But it's not because what we did was wrong. It's because…", she fumbled for words for a moment, trying not to seem unsettled by Cortez' gaze, "… because the game as it is has changed."

"Ah", Cortez said, relaxing slightly as he leaned back into his chair. "In what manner, pray?"

"Before", Éponine continued, now surer of herself, "before it was a way of a cat's play, walking around each other, pawing, but claws in. Trying to find the other out, trying to subtly change the territories. I'm sure you recognize that sort of tactics." He should, given the fact that he had played a very similar game with Lagoreau, who was based mostly north of the Seine but had somehow tampered into Cortez' business some time ago. Since then, there was money to be made in trading information of one to the other, in backing up territories or in making the life of one of the two more uncomfortable at the bidding of the other.

Éponine had stayed out of these quarrels, and so had Patron-Minette as a whole. The game that Cortez and Lagoreau played was too deep and subtle for the usual hit-and-run tactics of her associates, too close to legality and much too long-term.

Their common goals usually had not kept them from maintaining side projects, however, and this was, how Babet had gotten into the favor of Cortez, Éponine assumed.

The man before her, knowing what she was hinting at, nodded. "And now?"

"Now we are at war." Enjolras had guessed where Éponine was going and stepped in gracefully. "And war requires quite a different sort of fortresses."

"Ah. Now we are getting to the heart of the matter", Cortez nodded. "So, Monsieur Enjolras. What is it exactly, that you want from me?"

He took a breath to start, but then, to Éponine's surprise, seemed to think better of it and turned towards her, a question in his blue eyes. She stepped in without hesitation.

"First and foremost we will need a safehouse. One that is at least the size of the complete Musain, a place large enough to host about fifty people if need be. But that is only the start of it. We know that we are under surveillance, and I am sure that we will not be able to hide forever where we are meeting. So, an incident like the one yesterday could always happen. Unless the place is watched and controlled."

"Like many of mine are, you mean", Cortez answered with a wry smile, and Éponine nodded and continued.

"There has to be a possibility of us coming and going, a place that is accessible at all hours. Furniture isn't necessarily needed, although it would be great, of course, if it were not quite so hostile."

"And of course it should be a place far enough from my other businesses so that they do not attract unnecessary government attention."

"Yes." Éponine realized that the list became quite long. And the price therefore high.

"You have thought this through, I see", Cortez concluded and took another sip of his tea. "Although your plan does not eliminate any danger from within – which you will surely have."

"That is something we will deal with." Enjolras' voice was cold, hard and immediate. "We will."

Cortez smiled.

"I have no doubts."

He placed his teacup back on the table and got up from his chair, starting to pace over the creaking, wooden boards.

"I am sure you are aware – and if you are not, then Mademoiselle Jondrette will certainly have told you – that this is quite a request you are making."

Enjolras, although she could see the impulse to get up as well running through his body, remained seated.

"Name your price", he said, but Cortez shook his head in mock annoyance.

"Oh, please, no. It does not work that way, you know? Money, simple money is…" he turned around to both of them and smiled thinly. "Boring, I should say. And with all that is going on, it is not the stablest of currencies in any case."

"So what sort of favors are you aiming at?" Éponine asked. "With all that is going on, I can hardly see us running errands."

"Oh, and that would be a waste of valuable resources in any case." Cortez shook his head in something akin to exasperation. "With all those bright ideas of yours, I can not put you to mindless tasks such as these, can I?"

Enjolras frowned and threw a quick, worried glance to her, and Éponine did her best to respond with a quick, soothing movement, but he was still anxious as Cortez turned back to one of his associates, the elder man that he had introduced as Don Miguel.

"Well, Don Miguel", he asked, "you have heard the request, and when it comes to solid numbers, this is much more your domain then mine."

"Yes, but you said yourself that money may be only part of the bargain. I have little doubt that between them, these revolutionaries, in time and with many letters home, might be able to collect a sum that would be adequate of the price and yet… as you said."

Cortez nodded.

"Such bright plans you have. And this new world that you want to construct will be so full of opportunities…" He turned to Enjolras again. "Interesting opportunities."

Now, finally, the young revolutionary got up, in one, swift, decisive movement.

"Out of the question!" he responded, almost angrily. "I will not sell the ideas of revolution to…"

"Enjolras!" Heart pounding, Éponine had gotten up as well and took a few steps to reach the young revolutionary leader, placing a hand on his shoulders. To her surprise, there was a slight flinch in his countenance before he turned to her, eyes blazing, breath going quickly in his anger. But Éponine had no time to calm him down. She finished her gesture by quickly squeezing his shoulder ,but then she had to turn to Cortez instead, who stood at some distance, leaning against an armchair, a brow raised in amusement.

"A man of principles, I see", he responded playfully.

"If we were not following principles", Éponine answered and took a step towards them, "we would probably not be doing what we are doing."

"I will give you that", Cortez gave back nodding. "And yet, you of all people will know that nothing is for free in this world. I am sure you came with an offer to make, Mademoiselle. And I am curious to hear it. Show me some of the fabled Jondrette wit, if you may."

She had to admit that she had not come with an offer. Not as such. There had been no time to think of an adequate price, and now time was running even shorter and all she had was quick thinking and improvisation.

And the necessity to speak before Enjolras did so again.

"The charm of this request", she began carefully, "is, that you may get something at a very low cost to yourself. I can barely imagine that none of your current storehouses or hiding places are free at the moment, with trade being slow as it is due to the plague in the city. And on the other side… the world may change and for the better. It can't be good for you, the way things are running right now, can it?"

Cortez shrugged.

"A revolution and a people's government scare the outside world. That is always bad for business."

"I can hardly believe", Éponine gave back, "that this matters, the way you are running your business now. Quite to the contrary. You are finding your way even around regulations, and those ways may become more important, if push comes to shove. You might cheat others, instead of your compatriots…"

Cortez snorted.

"Sweet words, Mademoiselle, I will admit. But I don't give alms."

"No one is asking for alms!" She was not sure how she estimated that this was the right path to go. But something in his countenance had changed, and like a predator sensing its prey's weakness, she went for the breach she thought she saw and continued down the line. "What I am asking is that you take your future in hand like the rest of us. If that new world's appealing to you, help construct it. It's easy to just sit back and wait for things to happen, and adapt to circumstance. But wouldn't it be so much better to have a part in what is built? Don't be stupid. Think of the opportunities you would have."

"Opportunities", Cortez responded, but his voice was less hard, more thoughtful, "that your friend denies."

"I do no such thing." Enjolras' voice was calmer than before, and he had taken a few steps to come to a halt half behind Éponine. "What I do deny is crime. What I do deny is for a government – any government – to turn a blind eye towards the things that are being done against its laws, if these laws are just. What I do deny is the exploitation of human beings for the sake of the enrichment of a single one. What I do deny is to give a favor to a businessman that may force me or others associated with me to act against the principles we set out to worship. I will not", and his voice became a trifle softer, "deny help or support if willingly given."

"You are mad." Cortez slowly shook his head. "Both of you. That is all that you have come to offer?"

Enjolras folded his arms, an air of finality about him.

"Yes, Don Rafael. It is."

"He'll do it."

Not, that she was as certain that she made her voice sound. But there was something unsettling in the way Enjolras was looking at her in the somber half-light of the staircase, and she tried to break the tension with words.

He leaned back slightly – he was sitting on the topmost chair, while she lounged two below, stretching out her legs against the wall, leaning against the barrister.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"Easy. If he weren't at least considering, he'd have thrown us out right away."

A wry smile played around Enjolras' mouth.

"He has thrown us out."

"To consult with his advisors", Éponine gave back. "What would you do?"

Enjolras considered this for a moment, before finally he nodded.

"True enough, for what it's worth", he said, and silence settled back with them in the darkness, and he was looking at her thoughtfully.

"I suppose I should point out that you have acted admirably during these negotiations", he finally restarted the conversation. "Your help has been… infinitely valuable."

Éponine, feeling pleased, laughed and nudged his foot with her fist before she could think better of it.

"Don't count your chickens until their hatched, Monsieur. But well", she tried for a more serious tone, "it's my world. I know the rules here."

He responded with the ghost of a smile.

"Yes. That is true, I suppose", he replied and they fell silent as the noises of the house took over again, the various sounds of human beings living in too close quarters. She wondered how, in the matter of a few days, this should seem like a curious sound to her.

"So", Enjolras continued, after a while, and his voice was calm, almost curious and slightly uncharacteristic. "This is the sort of building that you live in as well?"

Éponine looked up to him and saw that he was not watching her, but instead looking towards the landing one floor down, where a man was sitting, carving a figurine out of a piece of wood as if he had nothing else to do.

"Yes and no", she answered. "I suspect that most of them in some way or other are in Cortez' favor. We've never had that."

"Ah." He placed his elbows on his knees and looked down to her, obviously thoughtful. "Lack of opportunity or lack of inclination?"

Éponine rolled the thought around for a moment before she settled for an answer.

"A little bit of both, I should think. There've been… other associations, but less stable ones, I should say."

He nodded and fell silent again, watching his hands, and Éponine wondered if she should ask him what was going on through his mind. But in the end, he volunteered by himself, without any prodding on her part.

"It seems a strange world, this place here", he said, and something about his voice was thick and almost painful. "Like a window into another world. Distorted. Warped. Almost known, but not quite."

He shook his head and ran both hands through his dark curls, as if to chase away the thoughts that had assaulted him in this seemingly peaceful moment. "These days…", he said and left it at that, but there were no more words necessary. Éponine understood.

"Yeah", she responded. "Like the topsy turvy day… everything is upside down in its own way."

Enjolras gave her a slim smile.

"Princes are beggars and gamines are princesses?"

Éponine snorted in laughter, amusement taking over before she realized that he had actually just made a joke – again. In response to her mirth, his smile widened a bit more, and his left eye twinkled, a gesture of almost camaraderie.

"I make a bad princess, believe me", she responded, tugging at her torn sleeves, shaking out her tangled hair. "There's too much of the streets and gutters in me."

She had said it without even thinking about it, but when her own words hit her, the revelation was almost painful. She had been chasing a dream.

While she had never lived in her mother's stories like Azelma had, she had also indulged in the daydreams they thought. It had been so easy imagining that she was some sort of "Peau d'Âne", a princess hiding in the garbs of a beggar, for her own protection as much as for the sake of a story.

But this was not true.

Whatever she was, this was not it.

"The days of princesses are numbered, Éponine", he reminded her, his voice breaking through her thoughts effortlessly. "And hopefully also the time of beggars."

She nodded thoughtfully, gazing in the darkness. She knew his mind had travelled to the same place as hers – the ruin and dust of a collapsed building, flames and smoke wavering about it, muffling the screams of pain and fear of those around them.

"It is like the world being reborn", she said softly, musing. "Through pain and blood, as if only like that new life could be made."

He huffed again, but this time, there was no smile on his face. The mood and changed, oddly, and there was no remnant of his former teasing in his face. Instead, his eyes were glistening in the half darkness, if by stray light or even tears she could not tell.

"That is oddly accurate, Éponine. Maybe this is the only way to bring a new world to life. Like a baby into the world, in blood and screams, pain and sometimes even death. Maybe. Would that I…", he took a deep breath, "would that I could avoid it. But I cannot. And the goal is absolute."

"It is worth fighting for", Éponine agreed without a blink. "Worth dying for. They all knew that, Enjolras."

He nodded and folded his hands in front of his mouth, as if to keep words in. And when he spoke, his voice was somehow muffled, almost inaudible.

"The cause, yes. But he died for me."

Silence fell like a heavy blanket and Éponine barely dared to draw a breath. Enjolras was quiet in the darkness, but she could see his knuckles turning white as he pressed his fingers together in a death grip. His gaze was staring into the void, unseeing, unblinking.

Clearly, he fought for composure.

Éponine turned her gaze away. This man sitting on the staircase was so very far away from the Enjolras she had known until a few days ago, that it seemed wrong, almost sacrilegious to watch him in this state.

For a few moments, she pondered what he said. She had guessed bits and pieces of it during their odd, nightly conversation, and still hearing him say it, and in this strange, raw, pained expression, somehow gave another level of depth.

She did not doubt that what he said was the truth.

She had not known Grantaire well, but Éponine knew a few things about obsession. And whatever it was, that had drawn the drunkard to the Amis of the Abaissé, it had not been the dedication to the cause. Now, in hindsight, she remembered glances, and words, and a certain manner of always being near and yet never too close.

She knew the signs of adoration. And she knew, Grantaire had died for what he valued above all things.

If she thought back to herself, a few days ago only, she might have done the same for Marius.

"It was his choice", she finally said, still not watching him, and she kept her voice low and tender, because she felt that the moment was raw and hurt came easily that way. "His free decision." She closed her eyes, carefully piecing together her next words. "It was his life to give. If what you want is for everyone to decide his own path, you have to honor that he chose his. He is dead, Enjolras. He died so you may live. Because he thought you should. Maybe that is what you should remember when you remember him."

She fell silent, wondering if she had said too much, anxiously listening to the darkness move. He took a deep, slightly shaky breath, and then, all of a sudden, she felt one of his hands on hers, a silent gesture, fingers wrapping around hers.

She did not turn around, though.

She did not want to see his tears.

"There is a tenement on Rue des Brodeurs. Much like this one, in fact."

When some time later the man called Don Alessandro came to take them back, they had found silence again, and her hands were folded in her lap, while his were loosely placed on his knees as they were biding their time until they were brought in again.

There had been no further words, and they had entered Cortez' stronghold the second time much as the first; side by side, alert and composed.

They remained standing since Cortez received them in this manner, in the middle of the room, and there was quite some agitation in his manner.

"Rue des Brodeurs." That was in Faubourg Saint Germain as well. Not the best of quarters, but Éponine had not expected otherwise.

"Yes. I have used it as a gathering place of sorts, and it is furnished much like this one, in fact." His arm went around himself, the empty attic with the armchairs and table in the middle. "The house itself is inhabited by watchful eyes and will not be infiltrated easily."

"Why?"

Enjolras did not sound exactly hostile, but a mixture of worry and distrust was ringing in his voice none the less.

"The young lady here makes a passionate plea", Cortez explained. "And I am not above admitting that she was somewhat correct in her assessment. A world of such opportunities… I confess I would like to see that."

Enjolras crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"There will be no favors. I hope that is understood."

Cortez laughed, shaking his head slowly in amusement.

"Do not worry, Monsieur Enjolras. Make this new world happen. That is all the favor I need. Give me opportunity, ground to set roots in, sun to stretch towards. And leave the rest to me. That will be enough, I think."

A victory, Éponine thought, but a tainted one. A peace for a certain time.

But this, she thought, would be as much as they would get.