"Eponine?! Girl! Where are you?!" her father's voice pierced thought their rusty inn. Fear thudded thought the 8 year old girl. The way her father's voice always did. Eponine staggered through her home, past the various personalities that dwelled there and made her life a misery. She passed Cosette, the little orphan girl, her same age but blonde and so much more beautiful. As her parents kept reminding her.

"Eponine!" his voice invaded the air again. She sprinted up the creaking staircase and crawled under the broken wooden door to reach her father's study. He was facing the wall, clearly focusing hard on something on his desk.

"Father?" she asked quietly. Her shoulder still ached from her beating yesterday, she didn't want to risk another. The study stank like beer and smoke and was hideously decorated with mementos from his part robberies, each one a burn or a scar on her skin or mind.

"Dear Eponine, my dearest Eponine. You are going to do something very special for me tonight, something only my precious girl could do."

Eponine had been dreading this. Her father often used her as part of his robberies, sometimes as bait, or a distraction, or to actually steal things. She hated every minute of them.

"You are going to creep into the Pontmercy-"

"No." Eponine stammered. Her father's eyes turned steely and he gripped her arm so tight that she lost all the breath in her lungs.

"No? You know I've been hearing rumours around town; that my girl has been playing with the Pontmercy boy, Marco-"

"Marius." Eponine said before she could stop herself.

Her father brought her face closer to his, and he looked deep into his little girl's eyes, who's innocence had been shattered long ago.

"You are going to creep into that grand little boy's home and take all that is worth more than the clothes on your chest. You hear me? And if you don't, well, I will see to you with any disobedience. Hm?" Eponine, sobbing, nodded.

"Good girl." He snarled and he kissed her cheek, she tried her hardest not to grimace at his touch.

As she walked downstairs she passed Cosette, who saw her tears and smiled, but Eponine refused to smile back. It was true, Eponine had warmer clothes and more food on her plate but Cosette had never felt her father's hand on her skin, or a belt buckle, or the leather of a boot, only the aching bones from a day's work. Sometimes, she envied Cosette.

The streets were almost empty. The cold night air stung her bare legs, and she pulled her coat further around herself. She reached the Pontmercy household. It stood, a gleaming example of wealthy, decent people, with its infinite grandeur. She knew she could pick the lock, practise all that she had been taught about breaking into a home and not leaving any evidence, but this was Marius's home, and she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Eponine, feeling empty, alone and helpless sat against the house and started sobbing.

"Eponine? Is that you?"

She looked up. Her heart swelled, her Marius had poked his head outside his window.

"Marius?" she croaked.

"Wait there!" he grinned and he put his fingers to his lips.

Eponine waited, as she always would, for her Marius. The front door opened. Holding his finger to his lips, he beckoned Eponine inside his home.

The reminiscence of a fire still hung in the air, warming each of her limbs.

"Whatever's the matter?" he asked and like she always did, she relinquished her worries, and told her friend everything. At the end Marius poked the fire and rubbed his hands together.

"I've seen your bruises, he'll hurt you, he is truly, a terrible man, I don't know how you stand it Eponine." Marius mumbled. Eponine couldn't help but smile but she concealed it as best as she could.

"I know what I shall do, my parents are throwing out some old candle sticks, they're silver, they were just going to throw them away, and some old silver spoons! Oh Eponine! You're saved!" he grinned and he ran off to find them. Eponine grinned to herself, Marius must really like me she thought.

Marius returned holding the candlesticks and the spoons. He put the spoons in her hands and placed the candlesticks beside her. Her eyes followed his movements. He was her best friend. She was glad that her parents had brought her new clothes, it wasn't quite up to the Pontmercy household standard, but at least she didn't wear Cosette's rags.

"Marius, you've saved me." She whispered quietly. Marius grinned his crooked smile and went out of the room. Eponine found herself looking around the sitting room. The walls were smooth and white, the windows clean, covered by gold curtains that could be Cosette's bed material, and her own really. There was a fire, with a proper in case chimney. Carpets, sofas, armchairs, their home was beautiful. Marius's parents didn't like having Eponine around, they didn't want their well brought up child associating with a street child, a Thenardier.

Marius returned with a bowl full of thick, hot stew and a shiny silver spoon.

"You know me." she whispered and she took the bowl and ate its' contents ravenously. She was thin, but ate well, not as thin as Cosette, but often people on the street took pity on the street children and threw them little bits to eat. Eponine sometimes left some food in the little space under Cosette's rags and blankets but never told her, she hated the girl on principle.

When Eponine had finished the great clock chimed on the wall it was nearly midnight.

"I should go. I won't forget this Marius." Eponine said gently as they walked out of the door.

"Neither will I." He smiled at her again. The night was still freezing but she no longer felt cold. She ran all the way home. She threw open their front door, and slammed it shut.

"Father?!" she screamed.

Before she was aware who it was Eponine was on the floor, her neck burning red hot. She fought the tears. It wasn't worth it.

"Do you want to wake everyone!?" Her mother spat, lifting the coat from around her shoulders and lifting her from under her armpits. That was affectionate I suppose.

"What's all this yelling?" her father appeared from the staircase.

"Your daughter has something to give you." Her mother said handing the coat to Eponine. She timidly fumbled around the pockets, revealing the silver spoons and candlesticks. His eyes lit up.

"You little beauty." He mumbled. Her parents immediately ran upstairs, leaving Eponine in the flicker of candlelight, the only sounds were stifled moans of the brothel down the streets and the erumpent snores of the men sleeping upstairs. It's no wonder she never felt safe in her own home. Blinking away the tears she caught site of Cosette, curled up by the fire, under a rug, she was looking at her, intently, almost sympathetically. She didn't want precious Cosette's sympathy.

"I'm sorry about your father." She said gently. Eponine glared at her. Everyone who saw Cosette said she was like an angel, her blonde hair, her deep blue eyes.

"At least I have a father." Eponine snarled. Cosette pouted and turned over, terribly concealing a shiver. Eponine picked up her newest suede coat and threw it over to her.

"You can have it til morning, it's cold tonight." Cosette smiled at her. Her eyes glinted in the light, a flash of blue, but Eponine didn't want to marvel at the beauty of her eyes so she ran up the stairs. She threw herself into her room, if you could call it a room. It was at the very top of the house, her bed was made of a very flat old squashy mattress her mother found her when she was born, she had lots of blankets, a box to keep her clothes, and there was a little ledge there was space for the little figurines she collected and the doll she slept with every night, it was little bigger than a cubicle but it was her safe place. She even found a way to lock her door, to keep the men away, and keep her father's hand from her skin.

Her room had one little window which looked out above the city. They lived in Montfermeil, in Paris but on the outskirts of the "bad" side of town. Noble men often used to say; "the trouble starts with the Thenardiers". Eponine never denied that. She looked out of her window, she could see the Pontmercy house, and she felt safe, knowing that she could see him and he could see her.

"Goodnight Monsieur Marius." She whispered, and she prayed that he too, would wish her a goodnight one day.