#bbc les miserable fanfic

[stardancerluv]

A Time to Love and to Fight

Chapter Nineteen

Summary: Changes swirl around Enjolras and his girl

Notes/Warnings: 18 & Older, please! PV Sex, lots angst, un-aliving /shooting someone mention, I re-wrote this 3 times! (If you want to know the other versions, just ask) I chose to veer a bit from the original story since this storyline/fanfic already has. I felt I still did right by what the character Enjolras would do. (No hate, please!) There are two collages, in the 1st one there is a fan-art version of Lachesis drawn by Amber Southerly. In the second, I used a couple in bed to stand in for that scene…that is a face claim! The dialogue between Enjolras & Govroche is taken from the mini-series!

Thank you, for reading! (It’s a long chapter) Be nice! Feedback is welcome! Want to be tagged, please let me know! ❤️ and of course…Enjoy!

Lachesis - The Greek fate who controlled the thread of life. She has become important to Enjolras & Y/N.

“Mon coeur, mon amour... mon ange.” - My heart, my love, my angel.

“Mon ange peut goûter le bonheur qu'est un baiser de toi?” - “My angel can taste the happiness that is a kiss from you?”

There are at 9 more chapters!

Your eyes were fierce as you turned, strode right over to him. “You shot a man.” The tone of your voice pierced him.

Taking a step back, he pushed the door closed behind him. He did not wish the others to grow curious. He had already faced enough questions, the night you showed up. He knew there would be more.

Rocking forward on his heals he walked up to you. You didn’t move.

“That man took a shot at Marius.”

When you didn’t say a word. He grabbed you chin. A wince washed over your face. He swallowed at the sight of it. He never wanted to cause you harm. With more of a gentle touch, and with no thought of his hand that was wrapped up, he brought your face up as he spoke.

“It was men like that, who dragged you into an alley.” He spat out.

Your lip trembled.

“I’ve seen men like that abuse and kill innocent men and women. He missed Marius the first time he aimed. I wasn’t about to give him a second chance.”

“You’re right, you’re right….” Your words were entangled in your breath. He could see your destress.

He could feel as you inhaled.

“I was just so scared.” It was then he felt as you wrapped your arms around him.

He would never tire of the feel of you. Wrapping his own arms around you, he sighed, holding you very close.

******

He was grateful. You had not run in terror at his brutal act. He was grateful that none of his comrades had not come to disturbed the two of you.

In that small room, against a bureau he leaned. You were cradled between his legs, your head resting on his chest. With his good hand, he gently ran a hand soothingly up and down your back. His wounded hand laid on his thigh.

Neither of you spoke. The silence laid like a blanket over the two of you.

“Mon ange, you give a moment?” He did not want to part from you. Right now all felt right. But he had made his mind up, he had to act on his decision.

“Only if you finally tell me what happened?” Your lovely hands were gentle as they lightly grazed the scarf that was wound tightly around his hand.

He pressed his lips together and nodded. “There was a scuffle during the funeral. At one point a solider tried to cut me down with his sword.”

“Oh, Enjolras my love.” You gently cupped his hand.

He nodded. “He caught the back of it. I am grateful, that I still have it. And I am certain, that only a scar will remain. My hand though in pain still moves like a hand should.”

His heart squeezed at the tenderness you then bestowed upon him. You pressed some gentle kisses here and there.

Quietly as he felt your soft kisses, he thanked Lachesis, for the gift that was you.

“Now, my ange I really must have my moment. Will you give it to me?”

A shadow of a smile fluttered on your face as you looked up at him. “Yes, of course.”

*****

Grabbing a small knife, he went to where he had seen the thread earlier. Relief filled him when he realized, he did not have to slice the pieces he found.

“As I twine this thread I wish for us to be together.” Enjolras wished silently in his heart. These feelings were new to him.

He had never been terribly sentimental. Half the time when he had heard or saw Marius being so lovesick, he had found it foolish. That all changed the rainy night you came stumbling into his life. After that mere walk in the rain something changed in him.

Walking back to you, he twined and tied and twisted the scarlet thread. He managed to make a delicate ring, easily he then made a small knot. The knot resembled a small blossom. He was pleased, his fingers remembered how to make such a small memento out of thread. He slipped the small ring into his pocket.

Opening the door, a smile played on this lips as he watched you fidget with your gloves. There were a few things he had come to observe in you, this one he found to be very endearing.

In a few strides, he was by your side. As you turned, smiling he knew what he was doing was right. Sinking down on his left knee, gently he cupped your hand with both of his.

“Enjolras?”

He smiled softly up at you. “Mon age, before you came stumbling into my life the matters of the heart I left for others.”

He swallowed, his heart once again thudded hard in his chest.

“I had always believed love was a foolish folly. I was and am no fool.”

Your smile was as strong as the sun on a summer’s day. Gently, he squeezed your hand.

“As we grew familiar, intimate I realized that you were the one my heart had been waiting for.”

“Enjolras, what ?”

He could feel as you trembled, your eyes twinkled. He caress the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Mon amour, years ago I pledged my body, my intellect for the betterment of France. As I am here before you, I wish to give you my love, my heart.”

“Oh Enjolras, I accept. Yes! Yes!”

He leapt up and pulling you close, he held you to him. Nothing felt so right as it did just then. With a sigh, he inhaled deeply of the sweet scent, that was uniquely yours. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I have a small token to seal this gift, love.”

You blinked. “You do?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Easily, he took your left hand. First, he pressed a kiss just above where the end of the glove sat. “Let us remove this. Yes?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He took a step so that he could place the ring he had twined more easily upon your finger. Once he had pulled the glove from you, he pressed another kiss this time to your knuckles. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he grabbed the ring.

“It is terribly humble.”

He whispered, then with the outmost care he slipped the scarlet ring onto your finger. Easily, placing it so the small flower sat on top.

“Though just as Lachesis drew our threads together, her thread allowed me to give you this symbol of my love.”

“Oh Enjolras, I love it.” And once again you were in his arms.

******

“Today we will remember those among that we lost. They were will always be remembered. In our hearts there will be men like Father Mabeuf, or ladies like Mademoiselle Eponine.” He cleared his throat. “But we will almost celebrate life and new beginnings.”

You smiled from where you stood. You were head to toe in a dark cloak.

“And we must remember, that last night we were able to push back the Royal army. We can and will do this again.”

Cheers rung through the warehouse.

*****

Quietly, he eyed his hands. They always trembled before a fencing match. Those days felt like they barely existed. They were like out of a dream. Now, they trembled.

Grantaire and Courfeyrac stood on either side of him while he waited for you. Hearing the muffled sounds from the warehouse, glancing in that direction a smile blossomed on his lips.

You were as lovely as a summer’s day. The dress you chose was lovely and delicate. Very much like you. Though, he was learning with how you handled the guards and then last night you were far stronger then he would have ever guessed. You were certainly the person, he was relieved that he would get to live the rest of his days with.

As you drew closer, for a moment he shut his eyes and inhaled. In his heart, he gave a moment to Lachesis. He gave her his sincere gratitude to experience this type of love. Exhaling, he opened his eyes and his heart leapt. You were beside him.

“Hello angel.” He whispered.

He offered you his hand. You took it and together you both faced, the gentlemen who would be marrying two of you.

********

Inwardly, you trembled and tried desperately to not cry as your mana slipped the buttons on the back of your dress. With great excitement, you spoke of peace that you could only wish would fall over the city. Your passionate words had been enough you convince your mama and Greta to allow you to enjoy a day at the park.

Once she slipped the final hook through the eyelet, impulsively you turned and hugged your mama.

“Oh mama.” You cried. Her frame was fragile. It had always been warm and soft while your father was alive. She was a wisp of the woman she had once been.

She gave you a squeeze. “My dear daughter, I am better. You no longer have to fret over me.” You nodded.

If life, if times were different Enjolras would have courted you. She would have found him dashing and intelligent like father. Father and him would have shared glasses of wine while debating life and the books that filled his library.

Instead, you were getting married in a warehouse Enjolras and his comrades had taken over. There would be no grand ceremony or celebration. You would have loved for your mama to know you were now a woman.

You pulled back and nodded, “I know mama. That fills me with immense joy.” You hoped she did not see the tears the filled your eyes. The lump that formed in your throat made it hard to breath. “It is just, I missed these simple acts of you helping me to choose a dress.” You smiled.

Enjolras and the men had already pushed off the army, they could do it again. Next time, you would bring him home. Mama, had a right to meet the man who made you realize all those books father had read to you and you had read; truly existed.

You reached behind her and grabbed your book. You held it up.” “I must not forget this.”

*******

Before leaving the house, you grabbed your cloak, its edges danced around your ankles. Simply walking in this dress would cause too much of a stir.

The walk to the warehouse today did not take as long as it had in the past. It gave your heart great comfort.

As you walked in, Enjolras stood apart from everyone. He was on one of the catwalks high above, it creaked under his weight.

Gavoche, came over to you. He smiled at you with a flair that uniquely was his, held out to you a small bouquet of little blue and white flowers.

“Gavoche!” You held a suprised hand to your mouth. It was lovely.

“Monsieur Enjolras gave me a mission this morning to find flowers that matched the blue scarf you wore the night we all met you.”

“You remembered?”

He nodded. “I may have wanted you tied up if you were a spy but you were the loveliest lady, I had the pleasure of escorting home.”

You smiled and took the bouquet. “You escort a lot of ladies home?”

He chuckled. “No, you are the only one and you are the loviest, by far.”

“Well, thank you so much.”

“You are so welcome, Lady Y/N.” He gave a small bow.

You were about to say how you were not a real lady when a hush came over the room.

It was then Enjolras began to speak. Giving him his your complete attention you smiled up at him. His words stirred a warmth in you, they dried your tears and melted the lump in your throat.

Yes, now they would marry but with their assured victory, you knew you’d be able bring him home to mama. As your eyes met, your heart filled even more with happiness over what the future would hold for the two of you. Lachesis, had been truly kind as she twined the threads of yours and Enjolras’s lives. Bringing a gloved hand over your heart, you thanked her.

*******

You were one of the angels he had seen in works of fine art. Only you were his angel in life. Relief filled him, that with the allowance his mother still sent along to him and with what he out aside, while still managing to hold onto alot for when it would be needed, he had found a small simple silver ring.

He smiled as Courfeyrac opened the small pouch and handed him that silver ring.

Your eyes grew as they met his.

He nodded. “I pledge my heart and love to you, till my last breath.” Then gently as if it had been made for you it slipped into its rightful place on your finger.

“Oh Enjolras,” His heart trembled with his love for you as he heard you speak. “My love. I pledge my heart and love for all of time.”

With hands joined, he turned with you once more to the man performing the ceremony.

“I offer this final blessing. May the air that gives them life and the love that has blossomed in their hearts now beat as one; till old age comes and envelops them in one final embrace.”

Cheers bounced off the walls of the small room. Turning, Enjolras gave his dearest comrades, his dearest friends Courfeyrac, Grantaire and Gavoche; a small smile and a nod. To know they were there at his side, he appreciated. Not a moment too late, Despiat popped his head into add to the sentimental wishes for the two of them.

“Mon coeur, mon amour... mon ange.” He whispered, cupping your cheek he closed the last of the space between the two of you. And inhaling deeply, his lips met yours in the first kiss as man and wife.

*******

Holding the skirt of your dress and your other arm around Enjolras. Together you both twirled, smiled and chuckled to the instruments and uproariously singing that filled the room. Spirits were high. Everyone was happy. Toasts were made, tankards clanked and candlelight flickered and twinkled.

*******

Earlier, while everyone feasted on what Despiat had made for the two of you and the others that evening from the kitchen of his pub. Laying on some crates, boards that had been carried and food and drink laid on them. Seeing a scout, slipped in from the shadows that lingered in alleys or corners between buildings he parted from you only this once to speak with him. You had tried to rise from one of the few chairs that had not been used to reinforce the barricade but had assured to remain and continue to enjoy the food and drink.

“Are you absolutely sure of this?”

The man dabbed his face with his handkerchief. He nodded swallowing. “They are hoping that by striking late tomorrow night, you will have grown complacent with your minor victory. Hopefully drunk on or even they dare hope in a deep slumber.”

Enjolras, paced. “They were will be certainly be surprised.” He smirked. He went over to the man, tell Despiat you may have whatever you wish. Please eat well. We will all need our strength.”

Now, he knew they would surely win once again. He could taste their victory. He strode out and on he again joined in the festivities of the evening. Sitting beside you, he smiled. All was as it should be in his life.

You reached out and touched his arm. He laid a hand over yours. “Alright is right with the moon and stars, my love.” He assured you.

******

Whispering to Courfeyrac and Grantaire, he had them make sure the windows and doors were fastened for he did not wish anything to escape. Once they were done, he stood and touch wobbly with his elation over the victory that was within his grasp, he stood on a chair.

He glanced down at you. He took a breath.

“Gentlemen, ladies word has come. By this time tomorrow, perhaps even later the army has planned their attack.”

Gasps filled the air.

“Do not let worry plague you. We know their plans. We can prepare and be ready. So drink, be merry but rest and we shall get ready to finish them!”

Cheers and clanking of tankards filled the room.

******

You placed your flowers on the table. Your fingers trembled so much that it took longer then usual to unfasten your cloak but you did and hung it on one of the hooks on the wall. Nervousness, coursed through you. “Is it wrong that I’m nervous?”

Enjolras paused before lighting one of the candles. He shook his head. “No, angel it’s not.” He lit the candle and lit the remaining few before he came over to you.

He came over to you and easily he pulled you close. “Forgive me, for in all the revelry I did not take a moment to tell you how beautiful you were today.”

You flushed, you glanced between the two of you before meeting his warm eyes. “Your eyes told me.”

A soft pleased sound came from him. “I am glad.”

You sighed closing your eyes as be cupped your cheek. “Mon ange peut goûter le bonheur qu'est un baiser de toi?”

Your eyes fluttered opened. “Yes, my love. My sweet husband.” You flushed.

“Oh I had never wanted to hear those words and yet, from you they are more lovely then the song of a bird.”

Your eyes met then and just as you took a breath, you felt the softness of his lips. The scruff of his goatee was comforting. Your arms wrapped around him, his followed. He was so solid, warm and safe.

*******

Gently, he lowered himself half on half off of you. “My dear wife.” You flushed with the kisses and caresses. But he was always be the honorable man you loved. He gently traced the line of your cheek. “I am aware that it is know it is tradition, for us to become one tonight. It allows our hearts to beat together to fulfill our bond of marriage and love. But with the excitement of the day, if you wish to wait and become one another night I can stop now. I am will never become a brut.”

You turned and his kissed his open palm. “No my love, I long to feel you.”

*******

Easing himself up from the bed, he paused as he stood beside. “You are so lovely.” He whispered.

In the flickering candlelight he could see a flush dust your cheeks. “Angel, you will have to grow accustomed to my compliant or I fear you will always be blushing.” He smiled.

“Maybe one day, right now I like the idea of being your blushing bride always.”

“Shall I Enjolras? Shall I shed chemise?”

He nodded. “Please. And I shall shed these.” Then carefully, since his hand still ached terribly he removed his breeches.

“You steal my breath, Enjolras.” Your soft voice reached his ears and his heart sped up.

“It is only fair since looking at you do the same to me.”

Bracing himself on the bed, he settled between your legs. “You have enraptured my heart.” Something, he never thought would happen or allow to happen. But you were special.

A soft sound came from him as he wrapped his hand around himself. He was incredibly aroused. The sight of you as the candlelight poured over your curves was almost too much for him.

Gently, he slipped his among your silken folds. They reminded him of roses that grew at his university. On the early mornings the petals would be kissed with dew. A soft moan that came you made his stomach tighten.

“You moans will undo me, angel.”

Biting inside of his cheek, he gently slid into you. Then his own moan filled his room.

Moving just so, he held you close. With his heart thudding hard, his lips grazed yours. “Pardon me angel, but I must tell you. I will always be grateful you came stumbling in that rainy night.”

You reached up and cupped his cheek. “It is the day, I truly started to live.”

A twist of pleasurable pain filled him; for there was part of him that felt the same. He kissed your palm, before he was able to find his rhythm and began sliding in and out of your warmth.

You both moved. No words were needed, just the sounds of pleasure from the two of twirled and mingled between the two of you. Your hearts echoed each other. Everything was exquisite.

Both of you burned as the passion grew. His curls became unruly as sweat blossomed on his scalp. Your strands, clung to your face they were as wild as a stallion’s mane. He drew closer and your lips met and the kisses matched the passion already between the two of you.

******

You took his hand and placed it over your heart, it thudded hard in your chest. “I will never allow my love for you to wane.”

“It never will, for till my dying day I will love you.”

He moved his hand up in gentle caress before he was able to cup your cheek. It felt as if the two of you sealed your words with a kiss.

*******

Fright gripped you and you woke. You could not understand the fear, no night terror had struck you but it had taken a hold of your heart.

You sat there in the darkness. A tear escaped one of your eyes and slid down you cheek. You pressed against your heart hoping to snuff out the fear, the pain.

“Angel?” Enjolras’s voice was thick from slumber. “What plagues you?”

“I don’t know.” You wept.

“Come let me hold you till the dawn.”

His arms were warm and strong as he held you. It was only then did you feel your anguish, begin to diminish.

******

“As the sun rises, we prepare. Will dispatch each royal solider. They taste our bravery and feel fear. They will quake in their shiny boots.” One of the platforms on the barricade, Enjolras spoke. His voice was rich with dedication.

Cheers erupted from those that gathered.

“Now let us prepare for what will be coming at sundown. We will not stop till the last gaps are filled and the barricades are secure. All of our bullets will be so made and rationed between all of us. And arm yourself with a blade. We will fight to the last of them.”

Once again the cheers erupted. Encouraging slaps on the back were given and fists shot skyward.

“Now go and prepare!”

You felt at a loss of what to do. You helped where you could. You brought cloths where the guns and pistols were being cleaned. With the aid of one of the other ladies, you secured pieces of furniture and whatever else you could get your hands on. All of if made the barricades stronger. A quiet seriousness fell over everyone. There were only murmurs of greetings. Eyes met silently.

Gavroche’s footfalls and the shortness of this breath, sounded louder. Seeing him you realized it was the first you had seen him since waking; that was a few hours now. You noticed others looked over or even glanced in his direction, but not really spoke aloud.

You watched as him and Enjolras disappeared into one of the smaller rooms. A knot formed in your stomach.

You felt as if a shadow that you could not run away from fell over you.

*******

Enjolras, patted Gavoche reassuringly on the back as he walked along side him into the small room. The young man was pale. And out of breath. This worried him.

“Son, what did you see?” He turned and faced him.

He chewed his bottom lip before he spoke. “It’s all over, comrade.” He swallowed. “Hundreds of soldiers are getting ready to attack.” When his eyes finally met his, they were watery. “And most of the barricades have been destroyed.”

He knew this day would come. He had been preparing for it. He would fight to the death. But you, you he worried about.

“Are you alright?” He was warmed once again by his bravery. He was a good kid.

“Me?” An easy smiled played on his face, though his eyes spoken of readying himself, Enjolras assumed. “Never better.”

“Go grab a scrap of the bread and cheese. Don’t breath a word of this. Let me address everyone.”

He nodded. “Of course.” He ran out.

Enjolras felt as if the air was stolen from him. Your terror had been prophetic. He would not let you die here. He would not make you watch if he were to die either.

“Enjolras?” Your voice floated through the air like a bird’s song. It ripped at him.

He would not let his anguish consume him.

@aftertheglitterfades @corrodedcoffn @dealswiththedevilsblog @randomstory56 @pl1nfa1 @phantomxoxo @ladybug0095 @the-iridescent-phoenix @maryan028 @netusha @kindablackenedsuperhero @amethyst-serenade @crazyworldofsiani @moondev1l @eddiethebloodiedhand @lluviamg06 @samunson83 @craftyhufflepuff @julieteagk @little-wormwood @gretavankleep37

[awhoreforeddiemunson]

This isn’t for the likes of you -Enjolras x OC character

Enjolras x FemReader, slowburn, eventual smut, angst, age gap, attempt of sexual assault OC character, enemies to lovers.

—-----------------------------------------------------

‘’Ugh this dress is so itchy!!’’ She pinched her sides hoping to get rid of the annoying itch that was caused by the new dress her father picked out for her. He said she needed to look presentable for tonight’s dinner party, maybe it was because her father had a possible suitor for marriage or maybe it was going to be all business. He did say he had some exciting news.

She was already 18 years old, normally girls her age would have already been pregnant with their second child. The plan was to get Sophia married at age 16, but Sophia did everything to sabotage that idea. She didn’t want that life or this life. Having all the money and not being able to use it for the poor frustrated her. Instead the money was being spent on dresses, banquets, dinner parties and political parties. Although when it came to politics, France was as rotten as it could be. There was so much poverty, workers weren’t being paid well and taxes were getting higher. 

Soldiers were getting more disrespectful towards the poor or average living people and they kissed the ground where the rich would walk upon. It’s a twisted game, and sadly Sophia was a part of it. Her father is one of the most respected people of Paris, not to mention one of the richest as well. And Sophia hated it, the way her world was built on lies, on how his money would be part of a better Paris, but in reality they just wanted more control of the city, and more money. Freedom of speech would be punished roughly and if you didn’t have a name to the city they would discard you without any question. Paris was corrupted by the men that promised a better future, but their promises were nothing but empty.

‘’My lady, this dress looks absolutely beautiful on you, I would bet your father would be most pleased with how you look tonight at the dinner party’’ said the housemaid. Sophia huffed out a heavy breath, truth to be honest, the dress was horrible, the color made her look paler than she really is, and her make up wasn’t helping as well. Her painted rosy cheeks were the only thing standing out. Yes, this was the beauty standard for wealthy people, she hated it. Her hair was up in numerous tangles and a few strands were framing her face. Her scalp was already hurting from the housemaid pulling and curling her hair to her liking. And let’s not talk about the shoes! 

‘’Thank you Anna, you are most kind with your words, I must thank you for all your hard work’’ Sophia gave Anna the housemaid a small smile, the housemaid was a kind middle-aged woman who did not have the fortune of finding a husband so she pledged her life to service. Sophia’s father sometimes jests about how if Sophia didn’t find a husband soon her life would become like Anna’s. 

But Sophia knew that it wasn't a jest at all. It was a mockery as well. 

It's not that she hated her father, no she loved him. It was the world her father was living in she hated. Her step-mother was different from her father. She was mean and only had eyes for her 2 year old son. 

She was the one who brought her father to the idea of her getting married. Just so that Sophia could move out of the house and her Step-mother wouldn't be bothered with her. A husband would take care of her. While she could use the extra room for expanding her clothing closet. 

‘’I bet Lady Elyna would also be pleased to see you like this, this could very well be the night you find a proper suitor, My Lady’’ Anna replied excitedly. Anna was oblivious to all the poison in her household and she wanted a happy life for Sophia. A good home with a caring husband that would take care of her and her needs. But Sophia didn’t want to follow society rules or expectations. So she just huffed and itched her body again as the dress was still uncomfortable.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Candles were flickering, a nice feast was placed on the table that was way too long, wine was being served. Same old same old. Apart from the meal everything was bland. It had no personality whatsoever. The wine tasted bitter as Sophia took sips, it made her shudder a little. 

Sometimes she would like the idea of just going to an inn and ordering some mystery soup and eating it with just a loaf of bread, maybe adding some slices of cheese with it. It was a simple thought, but Sophia knew that that life was more appealing to her. Yet, she wasn’t complaining when she took a bite out of the roasted ham with gravy and the baked potato that was just cooked right to its firmness.

‘’I have discussed some manners with Monsieur Gillenormand and he says his son Marius would be a perfect fit for marriage.’’ Her father looked pleased while he sipped his sour wine. Sophia said nothing and let the grown ups talk for a while, guess tonight she would have to focus on her dinner and making sure her elbows stay below the table, because in the end she would have nothing to say anyway. 

The evening took them away to more political talk and more plans for the wedding, this was the usual, political talk, wedding plans. And as they planned things, Sophia did everything in her head to sabotage those plans, to maybe scare Marius away from her, or to act like an absolute spoiled brat. 

‘’My sweet daughter, where’s that head of yours?’’ 

‘’I’m just thinking on what flowers I have to put in my hair for with the wedding dress’’

Sophia answered. Her step-mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. ‘’Don’t make me laugh darling, we know you keep sabotaging potential marriages, I bet you’re already thinking of a hundred ways of how to get out of this one’’

‘’Oh my sweet Sophia, I can assure you, Marius is a good man, he will take proper care of you.’’

It did sound like a great life, but Sophia didn’t want that, she wanted adventure, like the stories she read in her books, but she is a woman, and society expected her to be a wife, bear children, wave and smile and speak when spoken to. 

‘’Can I be excused father? The wine has left me tired and in dire need of slumber.’’ Her father nodded and Sophia took off to her room.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She did sleep right after dinner, but she woke up around late in the night, she was restless and reading a book with some candlelight flickering in the background didn’t settle her nerves like it always used to do. Her big room felt small and suffocating, even though you could literally place another dining table in the room. She needed to get out of the house. Maybe she will, and even so without an escort! The idea was absurd, and no one has seen someone from the Abadie household without an escort outside their big esteemed mansion. But Sophia needed to see the city alone, to wander without someone looking over her shoulder. She knew the city wasn’t asleep yet, the people of France were hardworking and merchants would still sell items deep in the night till the morning sun would be almost up. The merchants would switch with their partners to take the day for selling until they run out. 

Without a thought Sophia stood in front of her bedroom door, already dressed warm for the night. Was she really going to do this? And what makes it tonight  that she decided to do something so reckless. To go out without an escort, knowing that it could be dangerous out there. Especially since some of the people loathed anything that had to do with the Abadie’s. But for some reason that excited her even more.

She tiptoed through the halls, careful not to wake anyone, casually dodging some late-night housekeepers by hiding around corners. Her heart was beating fast and she was filled with adrenaline. 

She reached the front door, Gardenias were carved into the wooden door. The flowers that belong to their household name. But the way her family did their business nowadays had nothing to respect those flowers anymore. Gardenias were a representation for true and secret love. But there was barely any love to give. Her step-mother married her father for money. And now she is being married off to someone she doesn’t even know yet. How can love be true?

She opened the door, ready to step into the busy night. She was anxious and excited. She really was going to do this. She couldn’t wait to see what happened and what type of people roamed the streets at night. The lights from other houses in her neighborhood were already off, curtains were closed signaling that the people went to sleep. But once she stepped foot on the streets of the neighborhood where the common folk live she saw lights were still on and the streets were still full with people. Merchants were yelling out their sales and pubs were filled with cheerful, drunk and depressed people.

People were looking at her and whispering to each other's ears. It was probably something about her walking the streets alone and her being from the Abadie household. Judgemental looks from men and sorrowful smiles from old women with an occasional jealous look from a young woman probably wishing her life was like Sophia’s. It was an odd uncomfortable feeling but Sophia didn’t let that take her back home. She wanted to explore. Have a taste of the mundane life.

She turned a corner, the streets were getting fuller and people were more bunched together. She could hear a man talk about the Royalists and about the freedom of France. Along with some cheers. Sophia agreed with the man’s preachers. But what startled her is that the man pointed towards her with an accusing finger. ‘’Here in our midst we have a Royalist! Do you have anything to say, how will we make you realize you and your fellow Royalists corrupt the beauty of France. You take away it’s beauty!’’ 

Sophia didn’t know how to answer that question, it was more like an attack than a question anyway. Hateful angry eyes were directed at her while she stumbled on her words, but she was left speechless. She desperately wanted to answer that she didn’t want to be a Royalist and wanted to join the Revolutionists. But when she wanted to answer she was shut down. ‘’See people! This is what ignorance looks like, you want people like her to rule France!?”

Sophia turned around wanting to get away from this situation. ‘’That’s right! Walk away from us, that’s what you Royalists always do, ignore our thoughts and pleas!’’ the man yelled after her.

Tears were stuck behind her eyes as she walked away, but she would not cry, she refused. She would not cry for the actions of her family, because it wasn’t her fault she was born in a rich household. It’s not her fault that her father had other ideals than her. And so she kept her back strong and walked into a tavern, hoping some wine would help her ease the anxiousness. 

Once she got inside the tavern she took a look around. It was full, barely any seats left, until she found a lonely chair in the corner. The whole place smelled like old alcohol and candlewax. She tried her best to avoid any eye contact. She really did not need another unpleasant interaction. She was starting to regret her choice of coming out here tonight. 

She arrived at the chair and sat down with a huff, she imagined the outcome of this night a little differently than this.

‘’Excuse me miss, this chair is reserved for someone else’’ 

Great another interaction, how grand. Sophia looked up to be met with a broad man with unruly hair. But his face looked friendly, but yet again once he saw her his face turned cold. Of course he knew who she was! 

‘’Well if it isn’t Lady Sophia of the Abadie household, what are you doing out here at this hour my lady?’’ Even if his voice was faintly laced with venom he still stayed respectful of his way of addressing her. 

‘’Oh I’m sorry sir, I will leave and find a different chair’’ As Sophia stood up she was met with another pair of eyes. ‘’Grantaire, Enjolras will arrive shortly….oh hello?’’ He looked a little more oblivious to Sophia’s identity. 

‘’Thank you Courfeyrac, look who decided to step foot in this tavern?’’ 

The man named Courfeyrac was still oblivious when he answered, ‘’Uhm, a lady?’’ 

Grantaire chuckled lightly ‘’Yes, but not just any lady, it’s lady Sophia of the Abadie’s.’’

Courfeyrac looked at her in disbelief, ‘’No, you jest, that’s impossible because she would never leave the house without an escort, as so I’m told’’

‘’And yet she’s here, sitting in his chair like it’s hers, those bloody Royalists think they can take anything without thinking.’’ 

Grantaire looked pissed now.

‘’Really Sir, it’s no problem at all, I can find some other place to sit down, I’m sorry to be a bother’’ Sophia did everything in her power not to comment on his last comment.

‘’No, you see, now it has become a problem, you shouldn’t be here, wait till Enjolras sees you, he won’t be happy with your presence.’’

Sophia wanted to get away but she was blocked by Grantaire and Courfeyrac, she saw a small opening, an opportunity to slip through presented itself, and when she did she bumped into someone. “ Woah, be careful Lady, you’ll get yourself hurt.’’ 

His eyes were a beautiful brown, his goatee nicely trimmed. A red scarf adorning his neck, she was really close to his face. She could see a few freckles on his forehead. He really was a handsome man. Maybe she was staring at his appearance for way too long or maybe time moved differently. 

‘’Enjolras, meet Sophia Abedie, the daughter of that filth scum Royalist Monsieur Abadie, and it looks like she’s here without an escort and decided to sit in your chair!’’

Grantaire  made sure his distaste for her family was evident in his voice, and Courfeyrac looked around him not really knowing how to behave. 

‘’Oh is that so? And what are you doing here at this nightly hour?’’ Sophia felt intimidated but she wasn’t going to let these three men take her down. She felt a sudden urge of confidence and answered.

‘’ Is it so absurd that I just went out for a stroll? And it’s not like your name is on this chair, so I can sit wherever I like!”

Sophia sat back down on ‘’Enjolras’’ his chair, refusing to be bullied away.

‘’The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, like father like daughter’’

The three men looked at her like she was a joke, a funny little damsel in distress squirming because of their comments, it fueled Sophia to stand her ground even more.

‘’I deserve my freedom as much as you do, I deserve to choose!’’ She folded her arms over each other and her face turned into a pout. 

‘’Freedom comes easy for you’’ Enjolras teethed his words. He was getting pissed now. All he wanted was a nice drink after a hard day of studying, but she had to be a bother.

‘’Well, if it gives you any peace, I do not support the Royalists, and I’m definitely not like my father, I want what’s best for France just as much as you do, I do not hold myself responsible for the actions of my father’’ 

Enjolras his eyes showed fury and passion, he was looking intently at Sophia, he was trying to figure her out.

‘’You support the Royalists by living the life your father gives you, why not walk away?’’ 

Ouch those words stung Sophia’s heart more than they should have, but it did make her wonder, why didn’t she just walk away? Why did she still wake up in the bed with velvet sheets every morning while breakfast was served for her. Of course she wasn’t allowed breakfast in bed because she wasn’t a married woman yet. But why didn’t she choose to just walk away from that life?

‘’Just as I thought, a life of luxury, you can’t just throw that away right? You need someone to dress you every morning and someone to warm your bed with a warm kettle every night before bed’’ 

Enjolras thought he was quite funny, but there was some truth to it. He came from a luxury life himself, his family had plans of marrying him off as well, but he swore his heart to France. It’s safe to say his father wasn’t happy with that idea, but he did it anyway. With the remaining money Enjolras had decided to study law, all for a better future for France. 

‘’Enjolras, some people can’t escape their life, she might as well be a victim of her own family’’  Courfeyrac tried to defend Sophia, maybe he was the least judgemental of all, but he still had his doubts about the woman. But the fact that Courfeyrac didn’t see a wedding band around her fingers and she was past due to the age of marriage made him realize that maybe she didn’t want that life but she had no choice.

‘’There’s always a way out.’’ 

Enjolras motioned towards his chair, as if his comment had a double meaning. To get out of her old life and to get out of the chair. Sophia rolled her eyes and stood up with a huff.

‘’Fine, you have it your way’’ and she walked away, back onto the busy streets.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sophia was wandering the streets once again, this time a bit frustrated, the streets were less busy as before, giving her more space to walk around. She thought it would be a good idea to walk back home. Enjolras his comment kept floating in her thoughts. ‘’There’s always a way out’’

‘’Prick’’ she muttered. Yes, Enjolras looked like a charming well mannered man, but he was so hateful towards her. But he did speak half of the truth. She was annoyed by the fact that his face was now burned in her eyes. 

‘’What’s a pretty lady doing here at this time of night, all alone?’’ Her thoughts were cut short when a man came stumbling towards her, a bottle filled with some sort of liquor she couldn’t read the label from. The man was drunk. His hungry eyes roaming over her body. 

‘’Are you looking for some pleasure?’’ The man smiled sickly.

‘’No Sir, it would be most wise to leave me be’’ Sophia was already annoyed, and now some man way past his 40’s was bothering her, making these obscene comments as if she was just an object of desire.

‘’Now, you see lady, my wife is becoming an ugly whining hag, there’s barely any pleasure to find in that crone of a woman, but you, you are young, I was on my way to a brothel but you, you are a much better choice.’’ the man reached towards her and she smacked away his hands. His fingers were dirty and he smelled like sweat. His teeth are yellow and hair greasy. 

‘’Don’t touch me!’’ 

‘’Oh this is going to be fun, looks like my naughtiest dreams are coming true’’ He reached out for her again, Sophia tried to smack his hand away again, but he grabbed her wrist harshly. He turned her around and pushed her against a wall. He was already working his way to pull up her dress. ‘’I will make you feel so good” 

Sophia tried to get out of his grasp, but the man was strong, she could already feel the bruises forming on her wrist. 

But her feet could still move, so she stomped on his foot with the heel of her shoe.

‘’Ouch, you whore! How dare you!’’ He grabbed Sophia by her hair and started pulling it, forcing her on her knees. He unzipped his trousers with his one free hand, but as soon as he wanted to pull out his ‘’goods’’ he was punched harshly in the face. He released Sophia’s hair and stumbled backwards. 

Enjolras and Courfeyrac stood there, with Enjolras being the one who punched the drunk man. The two men expected Sophia to crumble away in a corner, but she stood up and walked towards the drunk man. The man was on the floor, still holding his face.

She stomped her heel in the place where the sun doesn’t shine, earning a loud cry from the drunk man. ‘’Men like you should not reproduce’’ and she stomped again. She must have kicked pretty hard because the man fainted from the pain. 

Courfeyrac and Enjolras stood there in disbelief, they were ready for a fight but instead it was Sophia who took matters in her own hands. A damsel in distress? No, she was a force to be reckoned with. Even if the drunk man had the upper hand a few moments ago, she now made it pretty clear that she wasn’t one to mess with.

‘’By all Gods! Did you see that Enjo?’’ 

‘’Yeah I did’’

Sophia was heaving, she was so angry, she turned around and faced the two men.

She made one last comment after she walked away.

‘’There’s always a way out’’

[lenievi]

The best of us are not exempt from egotistical thoughts. At times, [Valjean] reflected with a sort of joy that [Cosette] would be ugly. (Hapgood)

okay

He had returned to prison, this time for having done right; he had quaffed fresh bitterness; disgust and lassitude were overpowering him; even the memory of the Bishop probably suffered a temporary eclipse, though sure to reappear later on luminous and triumphant; but, after all, that sacred memory was growing dim. Who knows whether Jean Valjean had not been on the eve of growing discouraged and of falling once more? (Hapgood)

if Valjean (potentially lol) became like this after several months of being back in prison, then bbc!Valjean would have become worse after two years, and it would affect his fixation on Cosette (imho lol)

(yes, I mentioned this before but that was before I reached this part of the book. didn't know it was there)

[esteliel]

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Les Misérables (TV 2018) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Javert/Jean Valjean Characters: Javert (Oyelowo), Jean Valjean (West) Additional Tags: Horses, Travel, Established Relationship, Swimming, Sex in a lake, more details than you ever wanted to know about Valjean's Arabian horse breeding plans, Alexis de Tocqueville's 1830s Arabian stud at Castle Gueures, this is still a 24/7 D/s relationship but apparently that just turns Javert into pure fluff, while Valjean is committing serious horse crimes Series: Part 8 of The Coin of His Shame Summary:

Valjean turned to his back, floating. Javert's fingers brushed his, and he knew without turning his head that Javert was floating by his side. Above them, the moon hung in the sky, large and pale. 

Weightlessly, they kept floating beneath it, neither of them speaking. And what was there to speak, Valjean thought, curling his fingers lightly around Javert’s. He knew that at this moment in time, everything he felt Javert felt too: the blissful relief of the cool water, the soothing silence of the night, the overwhelming sense of love and rightness that filled his heart to overflowing. 

Or: Valjean and Javert travel during a heatwave to look at the Count de Tocqueville's purebred Arabian horses.

Read on AO3

Featuring a reference list that is way too long, but what better excuse than Iddy Iddy Bang Bang to get out the 1838 French stud books? It’s a neverending delight to me just how many books from the early 19th century there are about purebred Arabian breeding and imports. ❤

Plus, of course, this summer’s heatwaves, which meant that I spent all summer dreaming about Valjean and Javert enjoying a nice cool lake of their own.

[duskodair]

'fun' old school tumblr ask game. which of your mutuals do you think:

has likely read the most BBC Sherlock fanfic

would have attended dashcon if possible

probably knows what happens in homestuck

most recently read supernatural fanfic

got the furthest through welcome to night vale

knows the most about Les miserables

Is the most into horny old men

has the most obscure historical blorbo

has modded a game the most

knows the most DND rules

has seen the most doctor who and related media

most likely to be a swiftie

has changed their URL the most times

[cynthia39100]

My posts

Merlin

#merlin rewatch 2024 (directory)

#merlin thoughts

#my merlin fanfic

#my merlin fanwork

#favorite merlin scenes

#merlin fandom

Red, White and Royal Blue

#rwrb movie thoughts

#rwrb book thoughts

#rwrb scenes

Others

#doctor who thoughts

#riordanverse thoughts, #pjo tv thoughts

#jjba thoughts

#theatre thoughts

#issey takahashi related review

#shadowhunters thoughts

#other review

#rambles

Fandom

#bbc merlin (#merlin meta, #merlin fanart, #merlin edit, #merlin prompt, #merlin headcanon, #merlin text posts, #merlin fanfic, #merlin bts, #arthurian)

#red white and royal blue (#rwrb meta, #rwrb fanart, #rwrb edit, #rwrb bts)

#doctor who

#riordanverse (#pjo tv, #pjo, #hoo)

#jjba (#thus spoke kishibe rohan)

#les miserables (#les mis musical)

#theatre (#next to normal, #harry potter and the cursed child)

[inknopewetrust]

gorgeous gorgeous girls loved aaron tveit’s enjolras and now love joe quinn’s

[starfieldcanvas]

whats your ao3? i saw your reply on the 'what would you consider a successful fic?' post and i'm curious abt ur fics : ) idek what fandom you write for but id like to read them

I'm merelydovely! I have currently published fics for Les Mis, The Untamed/MDZS, and BBC Merlin. I typically write stuff that's a lot porn, a bit farce, and a bit pining, with the occasional sprinkle of overambitious worldbuilding.

If you'd prefer to read something that's NOT smutty:

"a wolf in goat's clothing" (f/f, Secret Santa pining)

"Be Gay, Do Crime" (m/m, wacky misunderstanding/mystery)

"picking up the feathers (that will lead me to you)" (m/m, high school reunion fake dating)

All of those are modern AUs that shouldn't suffer too much from lack of canon knowledge.

If you're okay with sexy themes in stuff that doesn't actually have any sex, I suggest:

"full circle" (f/f, amateur witch attempts a summoning)

"in a twist" (m/m, pining guy unintentionally goes to the sex shop to buy lingerie while his crush is on shift)

They're both quite short, but I still enjoy them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

If you like smut with some D/s elements but would prefer at least a little plot and worldbuilding to go with it:

"sextillion" (m/m, sci fi post-war reunion on a pleasure planet)

"come away, o human child" (m/m, human-shaped dragons with not-very-human ideas about sex, political marriage. the most self-indulgent and kinky work on the list.)

"the body politic" (m/m, emperor's bodyguard falls for the emperor's concubine, shit goes down. has the darkest themes of all my work but emphasizes healing and hope)

"wouldn't trade you for anything" (m/m, arranged marriage, nervous virgins, obligatory sex ritual)

"six months, four days" (m/m, undercover wizard agent struggles to break up with his hot wizard-hunting boyfriend)

I thiiink these are distinct enough from their canon sources that you could still enjoy them without full context, though I'd love actual feedback on that.

If you like your smut with a side of complicated feelings, especially people angsting about their sexual and/or gender identity:

"Mustardseed" (m/m, trans guy and pining bi guy hang out at SF Pride together prior to having a gender-and-sexuality-affirming hookup)

"soft questions" (m/m, newbie top worries he's doing it wrong)

"the fairer sex" (f/f, f/f/f, pining lesbian is fine hooking up with friends for fun but would prefer if it were serious and romantic plzkthx)

"i just died in your arms tonight" (f/f, f/f/f, theoretically heterosexual girl has never had an orgasm and her helpful boss and pining coworker decide to help her fix that)

"dynamic" (m/m, my one brief foray into a/b/o - beta tries to help his omega boyfriend through heat while angsting about being the "wrong" dynamic)

Then we come to the stuff that's just D/s smut, with only a few hints at characterization and relationship context:

"the backroom deal" (m/m/m/m/m/m/m/m/m/m, or, that time I wrote a sex scene with one dom, one s ub, and eight other dudes pitching in)

"falling in love, and other things to do at a coffee shop" (f/f, discreet public sex)

"rough day" (m/nb, a relatively brief master/slave roleplay to help the dom unwind)

The one with ten dudes will be REALLY hard to follow if you're not in the Les Mis fandom, but the other two should be no problem.

And finally, last on this list but always first in my heart, my most ridiculous farce:

"Aperture Science" (m/m, m/pumpkin, in which a character fucks a pumpkin - for science! - and somehow manages to get a boyfriend out of the experience)

...

Everything else is artwork, is under a thousand words, or isn't finished.

Thanks for your interest! I hope you find something you enjoy.

[magicfishhookart]

Illustration for the fic The Supreme Trial by @esteliel for @thebanguette 

Fandom: Les Misérables (TV 2018) Rating: Explicit Relationships: Javert/Jean Valjean, Rivette & Jean Valjean Series: Part 2 of the The Coin of His Shame series Summary:  When Rivette is captured as a spy at the barricade, Javert attempts to rescue him—and ends up wounded himself. Now Valjean has to deal not only with Rivette, who is surprised to find a stranger living with Javert, but also with the fact that Javert is singularly unsuited to the proscribed bed rest, which wakes old insecurities and conflicts.

(full picture in the fic)

[enjolred]

[earlgraytay]

the blue phantom

(for @pilferingapples​, whose struggles with the BBC Les Mis timeline are an inspiration to us all) 

It was not quite unusual, in the Romantic haunts Marius’s new friends frequented, to see a young man dressed like a gallant troubadour from centuries long past; depending on which haunt and which friends, it was more likely one would see a back-laced waistcoat or a particularly dramatic doublet than a respectable cravat. He’d gotten used to that quite some time ago.

But his friends’ taste could not have prepared him for a young man entering the back room of the Cafe de Musain in a full set of chain mail, a tabard, and a bucket helmet. 

If it was fancy dress, someone had gone to a great deal of effort to make it look otherwise- the armour was nicked and scratched, the helmet was dented, and the bottom of the tabard was filthy and ragged. But the dirt, at least, could have been from the rain outside, and the dents- well, horses kicked up pebbles more often than anyone would like, didn’t they? It certainly was cheery enough to be a costume. A bright red feather stuck up valiantly from the helm, and that was certainly dashing; the tabard had a sun with a face drawn on it, a little crudely, but with clear enthusiasm. 

The young man stopped in the doorway and looked around. Marius had no idea who he was, or even if he was someone he knew. Was it Bahorel? The man was certainly broad enough, but not as tall. But too tall to be any of his other friends, and he didn’t quite remember all of Courfeyrac’s friends well enough to know them by sight. He felt like an explorer with a half-finished map. 

"Ah, um- hello?” he called out. “If you’re one of our Friends-”

“Friends?” The voice that came from the helmet was thinner and lighter than Marius had expected, coming from such a burly fellow.

Marius’ heart sank to his toes. Of course this wasn’t anyone he knew and he was an absolutely terrible liar and why oh why had they left him to warn off anyone who might be coming and tell them the meeting was canceled? 

The rational part of his mind quietly pointed out that police inspectors did not dress like questing knights, as it might prove a hindrance to their duties.   

 “I like your enthusiasm, friend.” The knight chuckled. 

“Yes, ah, thank you,” Marius floundered. He glanced at the books spread on the table in front of him. His brow furrowed.  

Marius had decided to get a little work done while he waited. It was a fairly simple translation from the German he was working on, a phrasebook for tourists. But - though he’d swear in front of all the saints that he’d filled an entire page with variations of the phrase “may I please buy some bread?” - his notebook was empty. 

And he’d admit, he had gotten a little distracted by thoughts of his darling Ursula... but he hadn’t been so distracted as to imagine an evening’s work, had he? 

The strange knight, meanwhile, had picked up Grantaire’s box of dominoes, turning them over between his fingers. His hands were bare.

“Interesting,” he murmured. “What a curious use for bones.” 

 Marius’ face froze into a slightly hunted grin.    

“They’re Grantaire’s,” he supplied.  

“I see.” 

The knight put them down with a look of regret. 

“Is there something I can help you with, Monsieur...?” Marius asked.

“Ah, yes. I am Solaire of Astora.”  The knight nodded. 

“Marius. Marius Pontmercy. It’s a pleasure, really-” Marius said automatically. If his childhood had been good for nothing else, it had made it much easier for his mouth to be polite before it caught up to his mind. 

“Perhaps we can help each other,” Solaire said. He chuckled once again. It was disconcerting, that chuckle-  a little dry, a little sly. Marius couldn’t shake the feeling that the knight was laughing at him. 

“...Oh?” Marius asked politely. 

“It’s not often you find one out here who isn’t Hollow,” Before Marius could open his mouth to ask what he meant, Solaire continued. “Friends are a rare find indeed. And I’ve never been summoned to such a strange world before.”

Marius glanced out the door. Where was Louison when you needed her? She passed through the back room every now and then to wash the dishes; surely she would have come through by now?

Come to think of it, where was everyone else? The Cafe Musain was oddly quiet for this late in the evening; there were certainly young men who weren’t Friends of the ABC most nights, even if they weren’t in the back room.  And their meeting had been canceled, but... why?

“Summoned?” Oh, dear. At best, this man was very, very eccentric. At worst...  Marius' mental map said ‘Here Be Dragons’. 

“Yes. Surely you know?” 

Solaire sounded concerned. After a second of thought, Marius shook his head. Perhaps it was best to play along with his fancies. 

“Time is strange here,” Solaire explained.  “The very fabric of existence wavers, and relations shift and obscure. Worlds come together for moments and then  part again.”

“Wait, did you say time is strange?”  

The more Marius thought about it, the less he could not remember why their meeting in the back room was canceled. He remembered three things had happened, all as if at once-- Courfeyrac telling him that they’d go to find Ursula at the ball at Sceaux; Courfeyrac telling him they’d go to the brothel at Sceaux; Enjolras telling him something had gone wrong and he needed to find the others, and to stay in the cafe until he got back.

He remembered every one of them as if they’d happened, but - well, they couldn’t have all happened at once, could they? When had there been a brothel at Sceaux? And -- when had Courfeyrac started going to brothels?!  

That, more than anything else, felt like a waver in existence. Courfeyrac was friends with a lot of young ladies. If he’d wanted to marry one of them, surely all he’d have to do was ask? 

“Yes,” Solaire said. “The past, the present, and the future mix. And sometimes, futures that did not come to pass, and pasts that never were. But because it is strange, we are not alone.” 

It was strange, with some people- Courfeyrac, Maboeuf, his darling Ursula, and now this strange knight- you could feel the radiance of their smiles, even if you couldn’t see their faces. It was like standing in front of a window with closed eyes and feeling the light shine through. 

Then came that soft, dry chuckle, and the warmth faded. 

“I’ve placed a summon sign in every world I’ve been to,” Solaire said. “This one seems new, but....look.” 

He held out his hand. Marius’s eyes widened. In the dark corner, he could see a faint blue glow surrounding Solaire’s hand, like the very edge of a flame. It was hard to see in the light- even the dim grey light of evening- but sparks scattered from the glow as he moved, tracing his hand in the air. 

“In your world- in your time and place-  I’m a phantom. I do not exist,” Solaire said. “Someone who needs help has called me here. But I cannot find them. If you can help me, perhaps we can find your friends as well.” 

Marius glanced out the window into the rain, and then back at Solaire’s glowing hand. His friends were out there, somewhere. And from what he remembered... all three versions of it...  whether or not this eccentric was right, he had reason to worry. 

He stood up and clasped the stranger’s hand. It was warm to the touch, but it didn’t burn.

“All right. I’m happy to help,” he said. 

“Good.” The knight’s smile shone once again, warming the room as much as any hearthfire. “To jolly cooperation!”

[stardancerluv]

A Time to Love and to Fight

Part 18

Summary: Clashes with the Royal Army finally take place. Other sides of Enjolras revealed…and new developments take place for Enjolras and his gal.

Notes/Warnings: 18 & above please. There are two collages…enjoy! Wound/Blood, War violence…briefly mentioned…

“My sweet angel. So brave coming to see me.” Mon doux ange. Tellement courageux de venir me voir. My angel. Mon ange.

It is not necessary that whilst I live I live happily; but it is necessary that so long as I live I should live honourably. - Quote from philosopher Immanual Kant

Thank you, for reading! Be nice! Feedback is welcome! Want to be tagged, please let me know! ❤️ and of course…Enjoy!

Glancing skyward, Enjolras saw scarlet flags flapping brilliantly against the clear morning sky. With the right push all of these men, women could all raise up their anger fueling them. Perhaps, their voices could would finally be heard. A smiled curled his lips. His heart lifted in hope. The gods, were on their side. Reaching up, absently he gave your ribbon a gentle tug.

Moving among the throngs mourners and his comrades, he gave the nod. In a breath, they reacted. Easily six of them took over pulling the carriage that carried the casket of General Lamarque. There was practically no resistance. Elation began to fill him. Perhaps, all of this would be easier then any of them thought.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw the sheer number of those that turned out. There were several men and women, old and young alike crowding into the city center. This was exactly what they needed.

The further and deeper they moved into the city, Royal Guards rode high above on their white horses. The numbers of them grew. He knew they would there but his stomach began churn at saw how large their presence was.

A crack of thunder, made him look around. There was no storm clouds. His his grew when he realized that what he had heard was a bullet cracking out of his barrel. He watched as a lieutenant of Royal Army slid from his saddle, a scarlet spot over where the man’s heart should be grew as he fell. Panic hit the crowd moments later, screams fill the sky.

As he began to back up, he watched the small groups of the Royal army. It did not take them long before they came together and formed bigger, tighter bunches. One a fair distance away drew his sword, calling out a command and they began riding at anyone in their path. Guns were pulled from their holsters, swords are drawn and people are running different directions.

Despite his heart thudding hard in his chest a steadiness comes over him. He grew focused. He urged the men and woman around him to run.

“We have to get out of here. Run!” He commanded.

They listened and he ran with them. Looking back when he could, many anguished, terrified faces filled his line of vision. Though none of them were the faces, he hoped to see. The faces he wished to see belonged to Courfeyrac and Grantaire; he knew Gavroche was as sneaky and small. He knew how to get himself out of a scrap. Yet, he did not spot them anywhere.

As he neared the end of the city center, hoping for the best he chose one of the narrow streets closest to him and began to run down that one. Deep down, he knew the army would struggle there, they just had to.

Hearing his name he glanced up ahead of him. He saw far off, very far off his two friends. It brought little comfort, they needed to survive today to fight another day. He kept on running. Around him, men and women continued to run.

The screams around him rose, glancing over his shoulder he saw the Royal army were riding hard towards him. A man close to him stood fear obviously consumed him.

He had to do something, he pulled the man aside, the Royal solider drew his sword and he drew his gun. The galloping of the horse filled his ears. He aimed, he he shot and the sword came down.

Before he even knew what had happened, he found himself on the ground. He barely was aware that the old man managed to scramble up and he ran off.

Pain ripped at him. That’s when he saw his hand, the solider’s sword contacted with the back of his hand. There was a deep slice across it.

Glancing back, the warmth of triumph filled him as he saw people throwing rocks and other stuff down upon the Royal Soldiers from their windows. The people were fighting back. Reaching for his pistol, not entirely sure how but he did manage to holster it the best he could.

Sitting back he pulled his scarf free. He glanced behind him once again before he quickly wrapped his scarf around his hand. Biting one end, he made a tight knot. That would have to do.

******

Certain the soldiers and their horses had run off, he took a deep breath. Grantaire, came up to him almost gave him a fright as his arm wrapped around his shouldlers. “Enjolras, we did it. We survived.”

He nodded. He tried to gather his words

He felt his friend step back. “Your hand.” His voice cracked. “What happened to your hand?”

He shrugged. “I’ll be alright.”

He ran off ahead. His heart picked up with his new idea of what the should do.

“Citizens! Citizens!” The words were sharp and stronger then he had hoped for. “Now is the time to make our stand!” He continued, the people cheered and rose their fists skyward.

******

The moon was full and bright in the inky sky. He had survived another day. Chewing the inside of his cheek, he was grateful not more were killed in this scuffle. Yet, his core group of comrades had made it out alive and for that he was grateful.

Lingering in the doorway, he eyed the barricade they had built. It was solid. He wished there was a way to spy on the royal army. But it was much too dangerous , the risk was too high. They would just have to remain at the ready.

“Enjolras, you scoundrel get over here.”

Raising his eyebrows, he turned in the direction of the voice. It came from the doctor who was in their ranks and believed in their cause.

Pushing, himself off the doorframe he went over to the older man. He noticed he had gathered a few of their supplies. They shouldn’t be waste it on him.

“I’m sure its nothing.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

He settled on the desk besides the supplies. The worn wood was scratched and creaked under his weight. Many a night had they poured under candle light, looking at maps. Tracing the the lines of streets and roads; with a steady finger as they would discuss away around the royal arm.

“You’ll see nothing to worry about.” He gat gotten you used to the soft throb of pain. It would pass. There were greater things to be worried about.

The man had a natural gentle touch as he took his hand. He smiled at him. “You tied this good.”

Ejolras shrugged. He had to keep fighting. He had not had the time to stop and think if it had been a good knot. He gritted his teeth as the man tugged and finally loosened the knot.

“Enjolras.” The man shook his head. “That is quite the gash.”

But his eyes to grew seeing the wound. It was far worse then he expected, that was proudly why it had still hurt.

The man handed his scarf to Gavroche who had wandered up. “Go and soak rinse that in the water barrel.”

“We shouldn’t, we may need that.” Enjolras spoke up.

The man waved him off. “I can get more from the Seine. When we do.”

He shook his head. That was a risk that may not be worth taking but Enjolras remained silent at the moment. One did not argue with a doctor.

“Well, alright. Let’s get this done with.”

Enjolras, would not look away. He watched as the man pulled the stopper from small glass jar. The scent of the alcohol is strong and stung his nose.

“It’s going to sting.” The man warned.

He shrugged.

The man poured and then rubbed the wound clean, along with what blood had dried.

“That’s a rather clean blow.”

“You read my thoughts, just grateful he didn’t take off my hand when he slashed down.” He gave the man a half smile.

“Yes. Those swords can be either completely dull or as sharp as a razor, all depends on the man who wields them.”

“This one must not have cared too much.” The man gave a short, choked off chuckle. “Alright.” He made quick work of threading a needle. “You may not want to watch this bit.”

“I need my hand.”

The man rose an eyebrow. “I did this on the battlefield, my boy.”

“I know.” Enjolras grimaced.

******

He opened and closed his hand once the man was done. He smiled. “You are a miracle worker.”

Just as the pain of the stitching began to lessen it strengthened as they wrapped and tied his scarf around it again.

“I know where my talents lay.”

“Glad you are on our side.” He clapped the man on the back.”

******

Going to one of the side rooms in the warehouse, Enjolras went to think. He snatched up scrap of bread and cheese. Barely, chewing them before swallowing. His stomach finally reminding him, he had forgotten to eat.

He needed a moment, away from the others. The quietness of the room gave him a chance clear his head. Eyeing his wrapped hand and simultaneously was grateful for the doctor but also relieved he had not inquired about the ribbon tied to his jacket.

Thoughts of you finally bloomed in his mind. You had taken root a while back but now, he knew body and spirit. These thoughts, these memories of you were different. He welcomed them.

Because of you he remembered the quote, General Lamarque had taught him from the works of Kant, “It is not necessary that whilst I live I live happily; but it is necessary that so long as I live I should live honourably.” With you, he easily could envision both. Which he was very aware was a rare occurrence in one’s life.

Yet, he struggled. Not with how he felt for you but with if was right to establish himself and make himself your…gritting his teeth he turned to Gavroche’s voice interrupted him. He was truly like a younger brother at times. He would only allow this from him. If Grantaire or Courfeyrac did this, he’d brush them off.

As he turned, his boots echoed in the small room.

“What is it?”

“The girl. Y/N is here.”

“What?” He stormed past Gavroche, just barely missing him.

There you were, talking with Grantaire. The man always talked to people. You were clad in a fresh dress, your hair soft and scarf around your shoulders just like the first night, he saw you here. His heart lurched painfully.

“What are you doing here?”

He watched as you turned to him. Your eyes moistened. He sighed at his tone.

“I…I…” Your words did not come.

He easily closed the distance. He grabbed your arm, careful as he did. “Excuse us Grantaire.”

“Come with me.” He gently pulled and you easily came.

He went back to that side room with you, only this time he closed the door.

“Enjolras.” Your voice was soft as his name poured from your lips.

“Answer me.” He realized he had not let go of you. He didn’t necessarily want to. Gently he grazed your arm with his thumb. Your softness was electrifying.

“I heard explosions and screams. I grew worried.”

He drew his wrapped hand to your other arm without thinking. He could watch as surprise and concern washed over your face.

“I’m alright.” He immediately said. “I told you, I’d come tonight. I would meet you by our willow.”

“My worry consumed my heart.”

Letting your arm go, he cupped your cheek.

“Mon doux ange. Tellement courageux de venir me voir.”

His heart squeezed as you leaned into his hand. Your lashes laying gently on your cheeks. He stepped closer, his body brushing yours.

Enjolras was very strong. He could resist lot in this life but you, you tested that. Right now, he wanted to kiss you. Closing the distance, he chose to do so. He sighed into the kiss as he felt your fingers nestle in his hair.

He needed this, this quiet softness. It ended the struggle he was tearing himself apart with mere moments ago.

The door swung open. “Enjolras, they’re coming!” One of the comrades announced and ran back out. His heart stilled.

He nodded, “Stay here. Do not leave this room, no matter what.”

“But, but..”

“Listen, stay here. I can not bare the thought of anything happened.”

He turned and ran away then, grateful he had cleaned and oiled his gun after this morning. Spotting a rifle, he grabbed it along with the bullets that sat beside it.

Quickly he ran to the barricade, climbing it easily his eyes grew seeing the Royal arm walking through the shadowy fog that had rolled in.

“Ready your positions.”

The barricade creaked as people took their positions. He glanced around and saw people in windows and rooftops. They had a strong advantage.

A street away, they formed their positions, some stood others knelt. They raised their rifles.

“Get done!” His shout came from the pit lf his stomach.

Soon bullets burst into the night, the slammed into the wood and stone alike.

The air was tense. “Wait for my signal!”

One of the guns went off behind him. “Hold onto your powder!”

They had to wait till they grew closer or they would have no chance.

“Wait for them to advance!” He glanced through some openings before him. His stomach churned.

He could hear as one of the leaders, card out. “Charge!“

“Hold!” He waited a breath. “Hold.” They needed to get just a touch closer.

“Fire!” He finally shouted and jumping up, he took aim. Not breath later, others join him.

Smoke filled the air. The smell was bitter and sharp. Bullets whizzed by, were random screams coming from both sides. He was caught up in aiming and pulling the trigger. He managed to nab a few.

Soon a smile spread across his face. The Royal army began to group together but withdraw.

“They’re falling back. Keep it up!” He scream. Their advantage had won them this round. They didn’t stop the offense till only the fallen is what remained.

Cheers erupted! Shouts of victory filled the small alley.

*****

Your heart pounded as you managed to reach the warehouse door. Your heart skipped at the memory. This was where you had first met Enjolras. He had to be there. The bar had been shuttered. If he were not here, you would make way to his loft. Though the idea of going there without him made you uneasy.

Taking a breath when you were outside the warehouse; you made a small wish. It was just as heavy as it had been that first night. You were grateful that tonight, rain was not falling from the sky.

Slipping it the warehouse was bright with all the torches and candles that flickered. Men you didn’t recognize were busy with various tasks.

“My dear, Y/N what do we owe this pleasure?” You knew the voice and noted as you turned to it, that his words did not have a slur pulling on them.

“Grantaire.” You smiled. He must be sober, you reasoned. “I am here to see Enjplras.”

He took your hand and gave it a soft squeeze.

“Oh our fearless Enjolras. He is here, I assure you.” He said with a grand air, that almost made you chuckle of you were not so concerned.

Gavoche came up, his youthful exuberance coming off of him in waves. “Y/N, you’re here! Why? Enjolras?” A huge, bright smile was splashed across his face.

You nodded and brought your scarf tighter around your shoulders. “Yes, I am.”

“I know where he is, I’ll go and fetch him.”He ran off.

Grantaire, smiled. “He’s a good kid. Very quick, very stealthy.”

You nodded. “Strong too, he helped me home from the market one day.”

“What are you doing here?” His voice was sharp, as it reached your ears.

As you turned to him, heart picked up speed as tears filled your eyes. You knew you should have stayed home but you couldn’t.

“I…I…” You words twisted in your mouth.

He easily closing the distance, the sound of his boots caused a soft hush to fall over the warehouse. His hand was warm as it just slipped under your scarf to grab your arm.

“Excuse us Grantaire.” You did not resist as he pulled you. “Come with me.”

You did not falter or stumbled as he tugged you to a room a part from vast openness around you. He managed to close the door as the two of you went in. Finally he stopped, his eyes moved over you. As the silence sliced through you.

“Enjolras.” Your finally having the strength to utter his name.

“Answer me.” His grip lessened but he did not let go of you. As you felt his thumb gently graze your skin, it stole your breath. It had felt like it had been an age since he touched you.

“I heard explosions and screams. I grew worried.” Your voice cracked.

You felt as his other hand drifted up your arm but when you saw how it was wrapped, you felt as if someone had hit you, like some had hit you hard. Blinking, you met his eyes. You didn’t even know what you could possibly say.

“I’m alright.” He immediately said. “I told you, I’d come tonight. I would meet you by our willow.”

“My worry consumed my heart.”

Letting your arm go, he cupped your cheek. Sighing, you leaned into his touch. His gentleness, was almost too much. Your worries had caused you so much pain.

You closed your eyes eyes. You did not want him to see how your anguish still battled within you despite him being in front of you.

“Mon doux ange. Tellement courageux de venir me voir.”

You felt as his body against yours. A soft sound came from you, as you felt him kiss you. You wilted against him. Reaching for him, you nestled your fingers into his soft curls. You melted further as you felt the warmth of him sighing. You could have sworn that through his shirt, his vest and your dress, your chemise that you could feel as his heart hard in his chest.

The door swung open. “Enjolras, they’re coming!” A comrade of his announced and ran back out.

Your body stiffened, your worries once again filling you. Your eyes met his they were darker than you had ever seen them.

He nodded, “Stay here. Do not leave this room, no matter what.”

“But, but..”

“Listen, stay here. I can not bare the thought of anything happened.”

********

As you paced back and forth, his kiss lingered on your lips. You could heard so shouting, you were sure it was Enjolras. But you could not be sure.

Once again, your stomach churned. Part of you had wished now that you had stayed home. But seeing him, that kiss had helped but what if he gets killed out there and that would be your last kiss.

You couldn’t take this. You would were going to be ill. Grabbing a chair, you sat down. You wrapped your arms around yourself.

When the shouting and loud bursts filled the air, you tried to ignore them. Desperation filling you, making it hard to breathe you ran to the door that you had used to enter the warehouse. It was far heavier then ever before. It would not budge for you. You could not take it. It was too much. There were so many anguished cries and screams. What if one of them was his?

These all at once all grew silent. Swallowing, you crept back into warehouse. Your heart pounded in your ears.

Exuberant cheers, cries of delight finally traveled to your ears. With your heart leading you, you found yourself at the doorway that ushered in all those good sounds.

Careful, you peered around and seeing that it looked safe; you took a hesitant step out. Surprise over took you and you placed a hand over your heart.

Gun smoke swirled in the night air, you saw many bright and large smiles. You watched as joy washed over Enjolras’s face as shouted in what appeared to be a victory. Slowly you began to draw closer.

You stopped as something else came over his face. “Marius, watch out!” He screamed.

You covered your mouth when suddenly you could have someone shoot their gun. Blinking, distantly you wondered if that really happened. Either way you began backing up.

Your heart stilled watching Enjolras. There was such a difference in him. Silently you watched as he walked down from where he had stood victorious on the top of the barricade.

What was he doing? What if the guy tries to shoot again? You clamped your hands over your mouth as you kept backing up.

He stopped, and with not even a flinch you watched as he aimed and shot. A scream came up from the pit of your stomach but it was muffled by your hands. You turned and ran back into the warehouse.

******

He slipped the gun back into his coat. As he saw, Marius kneel beside Epione, he realized he had better return to you. He easily, moved between those that lingered. Shock still fresh in their hearts with this attack so close their base. He made his way to you and slowly opened the door to the small room. You were pacing.

“Mon ange?” He managed. Inwardly, he was trembling. He longed for a drink.

@aftertheglitterfades @sebastianstvns @dealswiththedevilsblog @randomstory56 @pl1nfa1 @phantomxoxo @ladybug0095 @the-iridescent-phoenix @maryan028 @netusha @kindablackenedsuperhero @amethyst-serenade @crazyworldofsiani @moondev1l @eddiethebloodiedhand @lluviamg06 @samunson83 @craftyhufflepuff @julieteagk @gretavankleep37 @little-wormwood

[nezoriy]

quick question: are there any explanations of why javert looked so sad and heartbroken during the whole arras and re-arrest ordeal except for him being super gay for madeleine? no? okay thought so

[aaymeirah-writes]

Unwarranted Dreams

.(Gift fic for AberrantAngel on ao3 as part of the Les Misérables BBC exchange)

Summary: Cosette just wants love, and maybe a fancy tea party. But who cares about the desires of a tiny, unwanted child? Not Éponine and Azelma, inseparable sisters who really can't be bothered to think about the kid their parents yell at day in and day out. Pardon my French.

-

The summer breeze blew through the village of Montfermeil. Leaves rustled, and a few villagers made their way from cottages to the small market or the public garden. Éponine clutched her doll to her chest as she looked at the new girl. Long, dirty blond hair hid a dirt-smudged face as she sat hunched over her knees, staring into the distance.

“I’m Éponine,” she held out a hand to her. The new girl made an aborted move to hold give her hand but ended up tucking it in between her folded legs instead.

“Cosette,” she mumbled.

“Are you going to play with us?” Azelma cautiously peeked out from behind Éponine’s back. Cosette nodded.

“You can’t have my doll, but you could go and get water, so we could have a tea party,” Éponine offered. Cosette’s eyes widened.

“What’s a tea party?”

“It’s what aristos in the big cities do. They sit around and drink tea all dressed up fine. A merchant told me that,” Éponine grinned, remembering. Maman bought Azelma and her their very own dolls.

“Maman used to sit with me and let me have tea. That must have been a tea party,” Cosette said softly.

“Why did she leave you here then? If you could have tea parties?” Cosette shrugged, retreating into herself once more. Éponine frowned for she was not used to being denied, over material wants or her curiosity.

“Can we just have a tea party?” Azelma asked, pulling on a lock of Éponine’s frizzy hair. Éponine swatted her hand away.

“Go get the water, Cosette. The river is just a little way in the trees,” ordered Éponine, the force of a spoilt girl permeating her words. Cosette nodded quickly and brushed her hair, which was tied back with a ribbon, out of her face.

“Do- do you have a bucket?” Cosette asked.

“It’s at the back. Be quick now! You can serve us tea and we’ll be fine ladies.”

“Alright.” Cosette stood and shuffled hesitantly towards the trees that fringed the inn at which Maman left her. She walked, scuffing her feet, then looked at the road that curved gently upwards, leading out of the village. Cosette could just see the form of her Maman walking away with her head bent, pausing at the rise that would, unbeknownst to mother and daughter, obscure her from Cosette’s view forever. She turned around and waved, Cosette smiled, just a bit, and waved back. Her maman would return soon.

“Cosette! Hurry with that water!” Éponine yelled. Cosette moved on, and when she turned back to look for one last glimpse of her Maman; she was gone.

-

Firelight. It did not cast its own shadow, for it was light, but the objects surrounding the smoking fire did. Cosette stared at the dancing flames, their movement hypnotic to her dropping eyes and work-clouded mind. Her stunted imagination began to wander, to a place of hugs and smiles, where brooms didn’t exist and she had a real Maman.

“Espèce de rate! Bring more bread out. We have hungry patrons and can’t afford you slaking off. Mon Dieu, why did I ever agree to take you off the hands of that putin you call Maman?” Madame Thénardier yelled this across the smoky common room, earning her an appreciative laugh from the patron to whom she was serving absinthe.

“Oui Madame,” she responded in a small voice, ignoring the harsh words Madame always used as she cast aside the reverie. She propped her straw broom against the fireplace and ran to the kitchen where Cosette piled loves of hard bread mixed with sawdust onto a stained wooden tray. Teetering under the weight, she carefully brought it out to the common room.

“The best table grenouille! Can’t go around giving out free bread, now can we?” Cosette knew better than to answer, so she made her way over to the ‘best’ table by memory, as her vision was obscured by the small loaves of bread. Once she had served it, Cosette ran back for the cheese, before Madame could order her to do so.

“Gavroche, I need that cheese,” Cosette said hesitantly when she saw the small, scruffy boy who only nominally lived at the inn stuffing a block of cheese into his pocket. His stomach rumbled audibly. Looking from the cheese to Cosette, he shrugged and broke it in half.

“Cut off the jagged edge and they’ll never notice a difference,” he advised, before flashing her a smile and disappearing out the back door. She stood with the jagged cheese and decided it was better than nothing. The big butchering knife was too heavy for her to pick up, let alone use. So Cosette climbed onto the counter to reach the cupboard with the smaller knives. The one Madame did not know she knew how to access. The one with the objects she wasn’t ever allowed to touch. Cutting the cheese and stuffing the excess into her mouth, she then ran out of the kitchen with it on a plate, certain her guilt would be noticed from the small drop of blood which welled up from the pad of her thumb where the knife nicked her.

“Grubby child,” Madame sniffed and took the plate out of her hands. “Finish sweeping, can’t have the place looking like a pigsty, now can we?” Cosette nodded hurriedly and resumed her eternal task.

-

“Under all that dirt, you could clean up nicely,” a man leaned over to eye Cosette, beard dripping with the foam from his drink. “Come closer little girl.” Cosette did not like his grin. Cosette did not want to come closer. She did the opposite. She ran. Away.

-

“Why did you give her half the cheese?” Éponine cornered Gavroche who finished his half hurriedly, then shrugged.

“Cosette would be in enough trouble already. I didn’t need it all.”

“But why would you help her? She’s just a bastard from a dissolute woman,” added Azelma before she was hushed with a glare from Éponine.

“I’m asking the questions here,” she reminded her younger sister. Gavroche ran his muddy right hand through his puffy hair.

“I suppose, because, well, she’s sort of like me,” a pause as Gavroche searched for the right word in his limited vocabulary. “Unwanted.” As the sisters digested this, Gavroche slipped beneath their blocking arms and ran off to convince a fellow little one to cause havoc with him.

“Well, Gavroche is nothing but trouble,” Éponine said eventually, picking at a scab on her elbow as they both stared at the place where that gamin was cornered just moments ago.

“And so is Cosette. Papa says so all the time,” said Azelma.

“You repeat everything Papa and Maman say,” retorted Éponine testily.

“Because they are right. And you see, we don’t cause trouble, so we get all the nice things.”

“I suppose so,” Éponine moved from picking at the scab to biting her thumbnail in consideration. After a short period of reflection, she decided in her self-serving way that the actions of Gavroche were not her concern and that Cosette’s problems were none of her business.

“Tag. You’re it!” Éponine put the matter out of her mind once she came to the conclusion so she could fully enjoy slapping Azelma on her arm.

“Hey! No fair!” Azelma took off after an already running Éponine. Their oblivious laughter soon filled the air.

“Girls! Calm down,” Monsieur Thénardier’s oily voice called from a window. They paused their game, which had morphed from Tag, to catch the convict.

“Come inside and help! It’s dinner and that useless Cosette is unavailable,” knowing not to disobey their Papa, they ran inside. Maman bent over to see their stockings.

“Éponine, what did I tell you about keeping your stocking clean?” Rough hands clasped her face and Maman wiped a smudge of dirt from her cheek.

"To keep them clean for a lady should never have dirty stockings."

“That's it! Now, add them to the wash, Cosette will clean them once she can function again. The little slacker.” Madame Thénardier switched from conciliatory to disdainful in a heartbeat.

“Girls, you must help out today, we are unusually busy. There is money to be made and no matter how pretty my two girls are,” Papa paused to pinch them each on the cheek, “the coins won’t enter my pockets themselves.” Azelma nodded at once, Éponine following suite a moment later.

“But why do we need to help? What happened to Cosette?” she asked.

“The ungrateful brat tried to run away and slipped into the river. We tried to get her up, but she’s just shivering and unresponsive. I knew it was a mistake when that woman left her here.” Maman said this as she moved away, the moment of outward familial fellowship broken. Papa’s face lit up.

“This means that I can ask Fountain or whatever her name is for more money! To treat Cosette and all!” Papa spoke this out loud to no one in particular, then continued, “go help your maman, I have a letter to write.” As he walked away, Éponine could practically hear him marveling at the novel fact that a letter asking for more money would for once be true.

-

“Éponine?” Cosette’s small, shaky voice stopped her in her tracks. Éponine was tired, and only wanted her bed.

“What?”

“Do you think I’ll ever attend at a real tea party?”

“Huh?” Éponine wondered what had prompted this. Cosette hardly spoke, let alone asked questions.

“A tea party. Like the one we had when I first came. Where you and Azelma let me play with too.”

“Oh. Well then, no. You’re nothing really. What makes you think you’d ever be in a position to sit around all fancy and just drink tea?”

“It’s one of my dreams.”

“Dreams mean nothing Cosette,” said Éponine forcefully as she turned and walked away to the room and bed she shared with Azelma. Let Cosette nurse her false fever dreamed hopes by herself, she wanted no part in it.

-

Try as she might, Éponine could not bring herself to fall asleep.

“Stop kicking me, and leave me some of the blankets,” she hissed in the darkness, looking at the indistinct outline of Azelma, curled into a fetal position. Inarticulate noises came from the lump that was her sister. Éponine huffed and yanked her fair share of the blankets over her own cold body.

“Stop it,” muttered Azelma.

“Give me the blankets," countered Éponine.

“Fine,” she was awake now too. They lay together in silence.

“Say, what do you think would happen if Cosette were to die from her fever?” Éponine asked.

“No one would miss her, just her help,” Azelma answered.

"But like, with the body and stuff."

“Maman and Papa would think of something. They always do. Besides, it wouldn’t affect us, so why would we care?”

“I suppose so,” Éponine agreed, wishing she could have the same confidence in their parents.

“You know, Cosette asked me if I thought she’d ever get a real tea party as we played a few months ago.” Azelma propped her head on her hand to stare at her sister.

“She’s a grubby nobody. If anyone would get a tea party, it’d be us, when Maman and Papa become rich.”

“You trust them so much.”

“Don’t you?” Azelma stared, wide-eyed at her sister.

“I don’t trust anybody,” Éponine sniffed haughtily.

“You don’t trust me?” Azelma asked quietly. Éponine looked at her searchingly, a small smile on her face.

“Alright, I trust one person.”

“Me?”

“Yes, of course, you. Silly. We’re sisters. We’ll stick together.”

“And when we’re rich we’ll have a tea party and four new dresses every year!”

“Of course. Bonne nuit, sœur.” Éponine said softly, brushing curly hair out of Azelma’s eyes. Azelma yawned and turned over, an action Éponine herself copied. Soon, she was asleep, dreams and worries, considerations and issues cast aside for the nonsensical dreams of her subconscious and the comforting presence of her sister at her side.

[esteliel]

All Will Be Well (7805 words) by Esteliel Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Les Misérables (TV 2018) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Rivette/Javert, Javert/Jean Valjean, Rivette & Jean Valjean Characters: Rivette (Les Misérables), Javert (Oyelowo), Jean Valjean, Despiat Additional Tags: Minor Character Death, On The Barricade, Sharing a Bed, Awkward Carriage Ride, Undercover Missions Summary:

When Javert is captured at the barricade, Rivette goes undercover and joins the insurgents to try and rescue Javert.

I ended up writing a second fic for my recip for Les Jours because I really need these people to jump in front of guns and into rivers to save each other a lot. ;___;

[legallyjavert]

The one where Rivette stops Javerts suicide and they solve crimes and go on dates, heavily inspired by @wszystko-czerwone post! Probably the most indulgent fix-it fic I’ll ever write!