Journey Home
Marius Pontmercy hurried through the streets of Paris towards the Café Musain. The wind was still chilly in the late winter turned early spring and he pulled his jacket closer around him. He finally made it to his friends' back room and sat himself down, ordering not wine but something to warm himself with. He noted everyone was there except Enjolras.
"You looking for Apollo?" Grantaire asked from his place with his wine bottle.
"Well, yes," Marius answered.
"He's gone home. To his father's house."
The young student was sure that his eyes doubled in size. Enjolras rarely spoke of his family and as far as he knew did not get along well with his father. His mother had been in bad health for some time, from what he remembered, and perhaps had even died? No… Almost though. The hatred between Enjolras and his father went as far as that the former would not even deliver his surname to his friends and he was only "Enjolras" to them and they knew nothing else.
"But he hates his family," Marius sputtered.
"No," Combeferre answered, looking up from his book and over his spectacles perched on his nose. "Enjolras' family hates him. No one has been able to understand his direct feelings towards them."
Grantaire laughed aloud. "The statue, with feelings towards anything other than the upcoming revolution?" he all but shouted.
"Keep quiet!" Marius murmured. "You want us all arrested, you fool!" He shook his head in bafflement. "Do any of you know where he lives?" His eyes traveled to each of the students at the tables, each turning their eyes down in quiet answer. "Come now, men! I must know! I have a message for him that simply can't wait!"
"A good two hours by walking," Combeferre answered quietly. "And that's from the outskirts of Paris. You could reach it by dusk if you hurried. What's this news?"
"Something that I'd much rather tell Enjolras first, you all understand," Marius answered. "He would best know what to do with the upcoming… events."
"Then you'll take me with you!" a small voice said from behind.
Les Amis turned to see young Gavroche standing with a wide smile on his dirtied face. "I want to go to."
"No," Marius said quickly. "That shouldn't be a good idea."
"Well certainly you going unannounced isn't a good idea either," Courfeyrac said with a shrug. "What harm in taking the boy?"
"You're not helping," Marius grumbled.
"You see!" Gavroche declared. "I'll be a 'elp, Marius! I promise! I won't slow ya down."
"You better not or I'll leave you in my dust," the young student said with a smile perking at his lips and he cuffed the boy lightly on the head, knocking his hat askew.
"So I can go?" Gavroche asked, eyes bright with excitement.
"I don't see how we'll get Enjolras much angrier."
"Then let's be off!" the boy said as he started out the door.
"Slow down, boy!" Marius called. "My flat first, boy, or we'll be going empty-handed."
They took a horse and carriage to the house by the directions that Combeferre had given them. They reached it by early the next morning and found only the hired help awake at the gate to the large country house. Even Marius was impressed by the size of it all as he stood staring.
"Can I help you sir?" a young lad, not much older than Gavroche, asked.
"Yes… Does Enjolras live here?"
"Yes sir. Do you have business with the Master's son?"
At these words Gavroche began laughing. "The 'master's son' sounds so funny when talkin' 'bout Enjolras!" he chuckled and Marius shut him up with a glare.
"Yes."
The lad eyed them both warily and then his eyes turned to the gate's lock.
"I'm from his university in Paris," Marius explained and this seemed to banish all doubt in the young servant's mind.
"Oh if that's the case!" he said jovially and opened the gate to allow them to enter. "M. Enjolras is still sleeping, far as I know," the boy rattled. "He got in late night before last and would have slept the day away 'ad his old man not risen him up. And what a wake up call he got!"
"Enjolras, sleeping the day away?" Marius asked, frowning in disbelief.
"Well, he walked."
"Why did he do that?"
"Who knows why M. Enjolras does what he does?"
Marius took this as it was and followed the prattling boy into the house. The lad stopped suddenly and turned. "Who shall I say calls?"
"Marius Pontmercy."
The boy nodded and instructed them to stay where they were.
"Take a look at all this!" Gavroche exclaimed as he eyed the fineries in the first room.
"Anything goes missing and Enjolras will know just who to blame," Marius warned him. "Don't gain his wrath here."
"So is the big news about the General?"
Marius frowned. "Why do I bother when I know that you'll come with any information worth knowing?" he grumbled.
"Because it makes ya feel better," the Thèrnardier boy answered with a smirk.
Marius' next comment was cut off as a pair of doors were shut and Enjolras, dressed nicer than either of them had seen him even as a student, came into the room. He looked perfectly miserable, though at the sight of Marius, his eyes lightened a bit. "Well, I hardly believed the lad," he murmured. "Combeferre gave away my home's location, hmm? What brings you here, Marius?"
"News," the other responded softly, "that simply couldn't wait until you returned."
A pair of blue eyes narrowed in anticipation. "And the reason for the boy?"
"I wanted to come!" Gavroche told him with a grin.
"And that's all the reason in the world?" Enjolras responded. "Well don't just stand there, Marius, get further in before my father sees you and starts with his questions. He's convinced that anyone I associate with in Paris must be strait from hell itself."
Marius nodded as they walked through the parlor and started for the stairs, but the sound of a man clearing his throat stopped Enjolras dead in his tracks. The man that the young student so looked up to shrunk down to nothing more than a boy straight before his eyes and Enjolras turned to look at his father.
"Do you make it your habits now, Enjolras, to bring people into my home with out so much as an introduction?"
"Marius, Father, Father Marius," Enjolras said quickly and began up the stairs once more.
"Did I say you might take your leave?" the aging man growled, stopping his son once again.
"Yeah! You didn' introduce me!" Gavroche said, sounding dejected.
"And Gavroche," Enjolras murmured with a flick of his fine hand in the boy's direction. "From Paris, now if we may?"
"You may not. Marius what? Come, boy, speak up! A family name must go with a given one, it is as it is."
"Pontmercy," Marius answered, finding his voice almost quiet. So this is where Enjolras had inherited his keen ability to intimidate anyone he wished.
Enjolras' father's eyes widened. "Your grandfather-"
"Yes," Marius answered before the other could finish.
"I'm pleased, Enjolras, that the first I've seen of your friends out of Paris is not, as I had feared, a rebellious youth such as yourself. Be gone with the both of you, but I will expect you at breakfast in half an hour."
"Yes sir," Enjolras answered quietly and they moved their way upward.
"He's a regular ol' bastard," Gavroche said as soon as they were out of ear shot.
"Have some manners, Gavroche," Marius groaned.
"I don't know how you made the trip with him," Enjolras murmured with a hint of admiration in his voice.
"We rode."
"Ah."
There was a long silence until Enjolras pushed open one door and they entered a room that was lavishly furnished. Gavroche took to it immediately, as he had never seen anything of the sort. He ran here and there, looking at the bed, then the chairs, the fireplace and the sofa that sat before it. "This is yours?" he demanded of Enjolras.
"I don't like it," the future revolutionary leader answered the boy. "My father chose the room and my mother furnished it. I tried, when I was younger, to move most of it out, but they wouldn't hear of it. My father is not an easy man to sway, if at all."
"Much like someone else?" Marius asked with a grin.
"I suppose." There was a pause as the two students watched Gavroche poke here and there, look about, and finally settle on the fine couch. Enjolras turned his eyes towards Marius. "What news?"
"General Lamarque. Have you heard?"
"How could I have if it is recent? I received a hand delivered letter three days ago that I should be here within the week, no matter what. I had no choice and no time, I'm terribly sorry."
"Might I inquire on the circumstances?"
"My father needs none."
"But something troubles you."
Enjolras paused. "It's nothing… just this house. My father is…"
"He's what?"
"Watch your mouth around him, you hear? He had highly placed friends."
"I understand." Marius smiled sadly. "It seems all of us that have the will do not have the support of our families, is that not so?"
"Yes," Enjolras murmured. "Now out with it, Marius! What of General Lamarque?"
"He's ill!" Gavroche piped up from the other side of the room where he warmed himself by the fire.
"Ill?" Enjolras echoed. "How ill? It must be something terrible for you to rush here."
"They say it is not looking well for him. He might not make it through the season or he might last a year, it's uncertain, but it does not look well."
Enjolras looked troubled by this news and began pacing the room, his mind running wild. It was the knock on the door that made him jump from his thoughts. "Yes?"
An aging woman – so aged she looked sickly – poked her head in and gave a soft and warm smile. "Enjolras, you didn't say that you'd bring friends! Your father says that M. Pontmercy's grandson is with you. As well as… who is this little one?"
"I'm Gavroche, Madame!" the urchin replied.
"Well certainly you don't plan on going to breakfast with a dirty face, do you, young Gavroche?" she asked kindly. "There's a washroom right down the hall. Go on down there and use anything you wish. The breakfast room is just downstairs and down the left hallway. You'll hear Enjolras arguing with his father, surely."
"Mother!" Enjolras grumbled.
"Well it does seem true. You've been here one full day and you've already had two fights in which the entire household could hear the two of you. I really wish that you would learn to agree…"
"Mother, his views-"
"Are quite his own, as yours are yours," his mother said in a kind way. "Come now, Enjolras, why don't you and your friend come down to breakfast? Marius, isn't it?"
"Yes, Madame," Marius answered respectfully.
"I'll expect you down in five minutes," the aging woman said as she shut the door and left the two students alone and the urchin down in the lavatory to wash up.
"She seems much kinder than your father," Marius murmured.
"She is."
"Is she ill?"
"Yes."
"Very bad?"
"Yes."
"That's why you're home."
"Yes." Enjolras' voice was so soft that Marius nearly didn't hear it. He waved it off suddenly. "I'm sure by the end of this visit you'll hear my life story. Father does tend to enjoy embarrassing me with it."
Marius gave a half smile, not knowing for certain if it was meant to be a jest or not. He followed his friend down the stairs and to the breakfast room where Enjolras' father sat with his paper in hand. He looked up as the boys entered. "Well, now, look here, Marie."
Enjolras' mother smiled a greeting from her place and urged the boys to sit.
"What is your family's name?" Marius whispered as discretely as he could. "You've never said."
"D'Aubigne."
Marius bit his tongue to keep from yelling out. One of the wealthiest families in France with some sort of ties to royalty, he knew, but the rumours never reached Paris.
"How long do you plan on staying?" M. D'Aubigne asked over his paper.
"Me?" Marius questioned, feeling quite foolish. "Oh, I assumed Gavroche and I would returned to-morrow, if not today. We wouldn't want to impose on your hospitality."
"Why? You marched right in unannounced."
"Father, do stop that," Enjolras growled.
"You'll have to excuse my son's sharp tongue," M. D'Aubigne said with a high air to his voice. "His mother spoiled him, being an only child and looking so like her."
"You have no brothers or sisters at all?" Marius asked, surprised.
"No," Enjolras answered shortly.
"Well, that is an oddity, so it is normal to be surprised," Madame D'Aubigne said kindly.
"An oddity for more than one reason," her husband growled out.
"Hold your tongue, husband," she answered him evenly.
"What is it that brings you here?" the aging man asked Marius, noting that Gavroche had entered – quietly, which was a surprise to both of the students – and sat next to Marius.
"Just some news… from school… that could not wait. If I felt it could have, I would have waited until his return."
"The mail system works here."
"Well yes, but it was something that needed to be delivered personally."
"Father, do stop interrogating him," Enjolras snapped before the other had a chance to do so. "Marius did not come to be put under questionings. He came here as my guest."
"Then you invited him."
"It doesn't matter. He is my friend. He shall stay as long as he wishes."
"I thought you didn't associate yourself with anyone of other beliefs. What are your political leanings, Monsieur Pontmercy?"
"That is quite enough, husband," Marie D'Aubigne said sharply. "I've heard quite enough of it."
"Marie, dear, you are not well and should be resting as it is."
"Oh resting does little good in these situations."
Marius and Enjolras exchanged glances, a quiet conversation between the two. Gavroche watched all of this in perfect silence up until that moment. "So?" he said with his mouth full of cakes. "Do you people always live like this? Always have breakfast like this?"
"What other way?" M. D'Aubigne asked.
"Well, none at all, sir! The way in Paris, with some of us."
"Not all are so well off, Father," Enjolras growled. "As I have been telling you. While you sit here in your luxury-"
"That's enough, Enjolras. You'll upset your mother."
"Always your excuse!"
"And always you that does it!"
"Enough!" Madame D'Aubigne gasped. "I've had quite enough of this and until the two of you have a civil conversation in mind, I shall be in the other room."
M. D'Aubigne watched his wife leave the room. "Gather your things and be gone," he growled out at his son. "You see what you've done!"
"What I've done!" Enjolras challenged.
"Yes, what you've done, you little bastard!"
What might have simply been an insult flung from an angry mouth stopped Enjolras in his tracks. His face drained of any colour and the fire that resided in his blue eyes faded into a dwindling spark. "Then surely you wouldn't want a 'bastard' under your roof," he murmured as he stood.
"Ah, Enjolras," Gavroche said good-naturedly. "My old man says the same thing to me all the time and it don' mean nothin'!"
Marius watched as Enjolras moved heavily towards the stairs and he followed, saying his thanks quickly for the breakfast and telling Gavroche to hurry himself up. He followed his friend, catching him at the top landing. "What was that?"
"It was nothing. Merely an insult."
"No, it wasn't," Marius responded, motioning for Gavroche to go back to Enjolras' room. "I've seen you take anything and everything from anyone. What was that?"
"I don't know," Enjolras murmured as he leaned against the wall, "why he keeps me here. He holds me down and yet he has no reason to. He knows well enough I'm not his son and makes it very clear to me every day that he can. I am a bastard child, Marius. My mother…" His beautiful mouth turned to a frown. "He keeps me here because he is unable to have children and he thought I'd make a good sit-in, I suppose," he continued. "Though he had no idea I'd turn out as I have. Strong willed… I've always been strong willed. He wouldn't dare tell anyone, though, that his wife had an affaire. It would be a scandal that would cost him too much."
"What does it matter?" Marius whispered. "What does it matter who your father is?"
"I don't even know him."
"That doesn't matter," Marius persisted. "That man down there should act the part, but he doesn't even do that. He raised you. He should act the part."
Enjolras sighed. "Let's just get ourselves back to Paris, what do you say?"
"I say that I've got an exam day after to-morrow that I'm not ready for."
Les Amis' leader grinned. "Yes, then we should leave right away. Gavroche! Get together what you want out of my room. Take it to your friends if you wish."
"Really?"
"I'd be a hypocrite if not."
The boy ran off to the room to load his arms full of anything he could find. They left early that afternoon by horse and carriage and returned to Paris. Enjolras had spent an hour in with his mother and it was not two weeks later that Marius found him sitting alone with a letter clutched in his hand. She'd died. He was left alone the heir of a man that hated him and he him.
"I still have my beliefs," Enjolras murmured.
"And that's what you need, isn't it?"
"Yes," the other agreed. "That's all I need."
A/N: Excuse any spelling errors, I'm in a bit of a hurry and wanted to get this posted. If they really irritate you, let me know and I'll fix them and update the story.
TS