Work Text:
Idealism sits prison, chivalry fell on it's sword
Innocence died screaming, honey ask me I should know
When Eponine was younger she had been wandering near her parents' inn. She had been desperate to escape her mother’s lessons so she had snuck out. The graveyard that was separated from the inn by a field, called to her childhood curiosity. Eponine had carefully picked her way across the slightly muddied ground, keeping her attention on the figure in the distance. As she drew closer she saw that the figure was a man dressed in a heavy cloak and holding a staff. She watched as he placed his hand on the ground and pulled until someone else appeared. The light of the sun seemed to pass through the second figure. Eponine froze as she realised what was happening. Still holding onto the shade, the god Hermes rose from the ground and flew towards the west. She stayed where she was until they disappeared from her view and then she ran home ready to share what she had seen.
When no one believed her she became frustrated that she could not prove it to them. The gods, they said. Are myths.
~*~
In the stifling summer heat she sweated. Eponine walked through the streets glancing behind herself furtively at every noise she heard. She had waited near his body for so long, until the sounds of guns and people yelling had died. Then when she saw an opportunity, she fled into the streets, praying that no one saw her. Enjolras’ blood had dried into her clothes and become trapped under her short fingernails. Every sight of her hand reminded her of what she was doing and sent fear spiraling through her. The gods weren’t a myth, they were real. And she was going to challenge them.
Years ago she had heard a story, one that spoke about the gods. Beneath the river that touches the city, that’s where the souls go. Down an endless staircase, through the darkest tunnel, across the clearest river. Until they reach the fields, those endless meadows. That’s where they stay.
Eponine waited in the shadows until the sun began to set and the streets cleared of people. As the last of the sun’s light touched the surface of the river and set it ablaze, she moved from her hiding spot. Eponine walked towards the edge of the river. The banks were dry from the heat. She inhaled deeply and began to wade into the water. Deeper and deeper until it passed over her head. Deeper still until the ground began to fall away slightly at her feet. That was when she found the stairs. She took the steps down until the water passed over her head once more leaving her gasping for breath and dripping water. She shivered slightly, no heat came from the stone steps that spiralled down as far as she could see. Eponine curled her arms around herself for warmth and began to descend into the dark.
~*~
He remembered being awoken before by Hermes. He followed the god … down … somewhere. And now, Enjolras stood on the banks of a river waiting, just like the others around him. A boat arrived on the shore and the others around him surged forward, he moved along with them. Stepping onto the wood of the pier, he moved towards the cloaked figure that stood at the end. When he reached the end the other man stretched his hand outwards. It was pale, as if it had never been kissed by the bright glow of the sun.
Coin. The other man’s voice rasped as if he rarely spoke.
I have none.
Check your pocket.
Enjolras dug his hand into the pocket of his coat, the material of which was stiffened by the blood that he had lost. If he needed any proof that he was no longer among the living one look at his coat would prove it. The material was now coloured the brown of dried blood and pierced by bullets. He pulled the coin out of his pocket and placed it in the pale hand of the cloaked figure.
How, he wondered.
Your beloved, I believe.
Enjolras stepped onto the boat, feeling it move slightly in the current of the river. There was endless darkness making it impossible to see where they would journey. Even as he observed all of this, his mind was on what the cloaked figure had said to him. Beloved. If she had placed the coin in his pocket it meant that she lived. A feeling of peace settled over him with that realisation. She lived. Eponine lived.
~*~
autumn.
Eponine arrived at the Musain and unwound her scarf from around her neck. Outside it was unseasonably cold, it did not bode well for the winter. Inside it was warm and filled with the tide of conversation. A glass of warm coffee was pushed into her hand by the owner’s wife when she reached the bar. The warm liquid heated her from inside as she drank.
Eponine twisted her way through the crowd to the stage. It was a generous name for a platform that was barely raised and housed a small upright piano. The other woman took a seat at the piano and began to play a chord while Eponine hummed quietly. She noticed the crowd quieted around her and she began to sing. Her voice grew louder and slowly bespelled them until everyone’s eyes were on her. She looked back into the crowd, her gaze drifting over them. Their breathless attention was what she loved and every time she opened her mouth and sang, she had it.
Bathed in the light sat a man whose blond hair blazed as he read through papers scattered on the table in front of him. Eponine glanced at the crowd as she sang, however her attention was drawn back to him time and time again. From the corner of her eye she noticed him looking up. When she faced him once again, their eyes locked. He stared for a second before dropping his gaze to the table. She was intrigued by him.
Eponine stepped down from the platform, Cosette was the first to reach her.
I think that is the best I have ever heard you sing.
Thank you.
Come, Marius is here with his friends. I’ll introduce you.
Cosette and Marius had married six months ago. Eponine had thought it would destroy her to see the man she loved marry the girl she had once considered her sister, but instead she had felt an odd sort of relief. As if, at last, she had been freed from some heavy burden that she had carried for too long. After the marriage, Cosette had helped Eponine escape the grip of her family and carve out a small existence for herself. For that, she was endlessly grateful. For that, she was willing to face the shameful way she had treated Cosette and build a new relationship.
When they reached Marius, he absently greeted her and moved to Cosette’s side, placing his arm around her waist. The papers that had been on the table had been cleared to one side and it was now filled with glasses and jugs. The young men’s voices melded into the sound of the other patrons around her. Marius pointed at each one and introduced them, they nodded their heads in response. Finally, Marius pointed to someone that had come to stand near her.
Enjolras.
He extended his hand towards her in order to shake her hand. She placed her hand in his, he shook it once before letting go. How novel, she had thought, to be treated as an equal.
~*~
She stood on the banks of the river letting the cold seep into her bones. Around her the dead wafted and wailed, she tried her hardest to ignore the wailing. He would not be wailing, she could say with certainty. In her hand she gripped the coin so tightly she could feel it digging into her skin, likely leaving marks. Eponine’s gaze was fixed on the unmoving river in front of her. It appeared still on the surface, however there must be a current underneath for this was the river that was said to carry the dead.
As she watched, a boat arrived on the shore and the dead surged forward towards the cloaked figure that held out a hand. One by one, they placed a coin in his hand. She joined the line. When she reached to place her coin in the hand, it closed into a fist.
No.
The voice was deep as if he rarely spoke.
Please, she begged.
No, he repeated.
She felt tears sting her eyes, warmth on her cheeks. Eponine sang. She sang about her loss, her love, about him. And with every note she begged him to open his hand, take her coin and ferry her across the river to her love. Slowly he opened his hand, she placed the coin into it and stopped singing.
Thank you, she said.
I should warn you, he does not suffer fools.
She nodded in acknowledgement and stepped onto the boat.
~*~
He remembered what it was to feel warm. He never felt that here, nor did he feel cold. This place felt endless and unending in its darkness. He could feel his memories of his life slipping through the gaps in his fingers like water. Even that loss did not bother him. He was detached from everything that had happened as if he had only watched it happen to someone else. Sometimes his fingers would catch in the holes that had been made in his coat and he experienced a brief moment where he remembered that the holes had been made by the very bullets that had killed him, but then that too faded. Here, there was nothing.
Then, around him there was a shift, a murmur and slowly those around him began to glance around and move. Someone was moving through the crowd. When she drew close, he moved to the side to allow her to pass. However, she stopped before him. Giving him the chance to look at her. There was something so familiar about her face. He moved closer towards her like a moth drawn to a flame. She was different from the others here. Bright, almost blinding in her radiance.
Enjolras, she whispered when he was so close he could reach out and touch her.
I came for you, my love.
She extended her hand towards him and after a moment of hesitation he grasped it in his. She felt so warm as if the sun was shining on him. He smiled and his vision flickered for a moment. Another moment seemed to happen at the same time, where the two of them smiled at each other with flowers woven into her hair while they danced. Come with me. Follow me.
She had meant something to him before he had come to this place. When she turned away, he followed. The brief memory of the two of them slipping from his mind once more.
~*~
winter.
She found herself in the Musain more often these days. More than anything, Eponine listened as around her they created new worlds with their words. She began to read the pamphlets they would always have on the table in front of them after she had finished singing. Beginning to envision the same world they did, she saw what could be if only they reached for it. She would listen to their discussion, at times raging and at others warm like a fire within a hearth. And within that hearth, like the brightest ember was Enjolras. Her eyes were constantly drawn to him when he spoke. And his to hers when she sang. Mutual goals and desires binding them together.
He would ask for her opinions on different matters after she had read about them. After Eponine had stuttered out her thoughts the first time he had asked her, she was furious thinking he had embarrassed her on purpose. However, he approached her afterwards.
You need to form your own thoughts, rather than being led blindly into this. He had said to her.
And just like the handshake the first time that they had met, the novelty of this struck her. Enjolras wanted her to form her own opinions, expected her to do so even, as an equal.
As winter progressed and night began to fall earlier and earlier, Enjolras would walk Eponine home. Their hands brushing, their bodies leaning into one another in the cold, seemingly of their own accord. Until one evening, tired of their little dance, Eponine had kissed him and felt him kiss her in return. However, Enjolras hadn’t been himself after that. Easily distracted and quieter than usual, it had confused her to see him like that. A week later, Eponine had said they could simply forget about what had happened between them.
I don’t want to, he confessed.
So Eponine had taken him upstairs into her building. And then, here in her room they vowed themselves to one another. With their words and promises. And then, with their bodies.
~*~
She gripped his hand so tightly in hers, it was a wonder he did not complain. In the brief hours they had been apart Eponine had pushed from her mind how he died, but seeing him made it impossible to ignore. Dried blood drenched the front of his jacket. It was like seeing Enjolras and not seeing him at the same time. The light that she had seen in him, that she had loved, was nowhere to be found. It did not seem as if he had recognised her, but had simply followed her because she asked. He will be fine. He will be fine. We will be fine. She repeated to herself as she walked, tugging him along and pulling him out of the darkness behind her.
A chill tore through the air, causing Eponine to shiver. When she looked back at Enjolras, he stared at her blankly. Shadows began to dance on the ground before her.
No, she whispered. No, no.
Little girl. His voice was melodic, with hidden sharp blades. Brave of you to dare, but he is mine now.
Please, she begged, a sob broke her voice. I love him. He is all I have.
No, little girl.
What difference does it make if he is yours now or in a few years?
~*~
Seeing her cry tugged on something within him. It dimmed her brightness. Almost without thought, Enjolras stepped forward. Blocking her from the gaze of Hades. Behind him he heard her take a breath before a crystalline note spilled out of her. Endless, heartbreaking and so pure. Until everyone had stopped to look at her, trapped in the moment she had created. The note ended, plunging them all into still silence. Hades looked thoughtful.
You will both belong to me eventually, so take him. For now.
She took his hand again.
Stop. He called again. There is a condition. He will follow you and until you reach the light, the end of the underworld, you will not turn back nor will you take his hand.
No, she whispered.
Little girl, do not bargain with me.
She finally looked into his eyes and Enjolras remembered it all. The memories came back like waves and he was the rock on the shore endlessly battered.
My love, he whispered.
Her face hardened before she turned away. Her hair fluttered around her. He followed.
~*~
spring.
She smoothed her dress, taking the chance to run her hands over the soft green fabric. The flowers that had started to bloom only a month ago had been carefully woven into her hair by Cosette’s delicate hands. When she glanced up, she saw Enjolras waiting for her in front of the priest. She felt her lips tug upwards, flowers matching the ones in her hair had been tucked into the front of his jacket. At last, Marius passed her hand into Enjolras’ and warmth rushed through Eponine as he smiled at her.
After the priest had solemnly declared them man and wife, they danced together while their friends milled around them. The flowers in her hair had begun to droop and her shoulders were dusted with the gold and white pollen. And still they danced until the flowers dropped from her hair onto the ground, crushed beneath the feet of others. Until Eponine rested in the circle of Enjolras’ arms, their bodies pressed against one another, where they reflected on the day and dreamt of better tomorrows.
~*~
As Eponine walked in front of Enjolras, her mind wandered in the stillness. She held fast to their past, their love.
She reached up and kissed him. It was soft and uncertain. She dropped back down and before she could open her eyes, she felt him kiss her. His hands cupped her face and she let herself get lost in the feel of him. It felt like the tentative start of something.
She was in the Musain again, singing. This time though, he was watching her. His gaze fixed upon her as she returned his steady stare. And as she sang she imagined her voice reaching towards him, his gaze reaching towards her; like strings binding them together in this moment, in the future. Forever.
Now, they dutifully climbed the stairs.
She had fought with him and been too stubborn to admit it had been her fault when she realised. So they had brooded in silence for an endless time. Until she had turned to him one night and said how she missed him. He stayed silent. She finally sighed and apologised. He had kissed her forehead then. Gentle and loving. She held tight to that moment still.
Then she saw it, in the distance, a pinprick of light. The past, the present clashed together and she fixated on the sudden silence. Eponine stepped up on the next step, her shoes scuffed the stone and made a soft sound. She waited for the accompanying echo to let her know Enjolras had stepped too. There was nothing.
No. He had lied then, broken his word and promise to them both. Or perhaps, Enjolras, remembering everything, had not wanted to follow her out. Had not loved her as she had loved him. The clamour in her mind rose and until she felt herself turning.
Until she turned .
~*~
summer.
It began with a simmering heat, a slow tension, as they all waited and prepared. The conversations between the two of them had taken on a sharp edge as their frustrations spilled. Then abruptly the decision to fight was made. She had expected it, but the suddenness of it all had still surprised her. And so the barricades were built. And so the revolution began.
She had been kept away from where he and his friends had gathered, but she had watched on. The sound of the bullets making a haunting melody that kept her awake.
In the center of it all, he was the blinding light that called to her. His red coat a siren sign for her eyes. She was watching when it happened, when the bullet hit his chest. When the red of his blood mingled with the red of his coat. Her world stopped. Everything stood still for a crystalline moment and then reality crashed like waves against the shore. She raged against the injustice of it all. Useless as it was, she ran to his body and pulled him towards her.
Come back to me, she whispered before she realised he would not hear and so she vowed, I will find you and I will bring you back to me.
And so she left his soulless body behind to find the entrance to Hades. To find him and bring him back.
~*~
Enjolras followed Eponine. Across the endless fields that he had stood in. Over the river he had crossed because she had placed a coin in his jacket. Up the stairs he had wandered down with Hermes. Until he could almost see the light. Then she turned to him. Bright and so, so radiant.
He was lost in the lines of Eponine’s face. And then he remembered the promise, the deal that had been struck.
Her face.
A woman’s face.
A face.
Something.
Nothing.
He was pulled down into darkness as if he was floating along the steady waters of the Lethe. Everything shedding from him. Until everything became nothing. And he became lost.
Nothing.
~*~
When she emerged from the darkness it was not the river that she had been expecting, but a green field, endless, as far as her eyes could see. Eponine collapsed to her knees, overcome. She opened her mouth and released a cry of anguish.
They emerged from the hills slowly. Grotesque creatures. Eponine understood why he had led her out here now. It was for them. For her to meet her fate. Her end.
She sings for them to come faster. If she cannot have Enjolras in this life after all this then everything else is for nothing.
As Eponine felt the talons wrap around her ankle, she let herself imagine what could have been for her and her love.
Perhaps in a different time, in another world. They could have succeeded.
~*~
summer, in another lifetime.
The sun is glorious. It heats her body from within as she lays on the soft grass, the heady scent of flowers in the air around her.
My love, a voice calls. A gentle finger traces her jaw.
Her eyes open. Enjolras looks down at her, his hair ablaze in the sunlight. She reaches towards him and they embrace in the warmth of the light. Together at last.
In a different time, in another world. They succeed.