Author's Notes: *starts sniffling into a tissue* The last update! This, my dears, is the end! This fic has been a large part of my life for a very very long time and it never would have been finished without the lovely people I've come to call "my regulars". Update after update they reviewed, left constructive criticism and generally brightened up my day. So I'd like to thank (apologies for turning into a bad Oscar speech) the wonderful and talented – Mika for reviewing since the beginning, not missing a week and writing me nice e-mails that always cheer me up. Happy Hobo who is a very talented writer, and I look forward to reviewing all of her future stories. The lovely Raoul fan who is Marzoog, my fellow Anne of Green Gables fan! Lady Laura 020 for just being great..*sobs into tissue Halle Berry style* . Meg for being the only person to review chapter three! Rosie for being really really sweet all the time! Uh…K.Tefler, Lemon Drop and Estella Havishman, joint holders of the "nicest review ever" award! Black Hawk Down, Erin, Iliana, The Lark, Ponine 1989, Shandethe Sanders, peakechick, Darkness and Charlie (the first!), WeaselSlayer, Winter_Lady…and anyone I've forgotten! Just thank you…everyone.

Epilogue

A last word about Fantine. We all have a common mother, the earth, and it was to this mother that she was restored. The cure thought it well to retain, for the benefit of the poor, as much as possible of the money left behind by Jean Valjean. So he limited the funeral to the barest essentials, consigning Fantine to a pauper's grave in the free corner of the cemetery. Her mortal remains were laid to rest, in company with other unconsidered bones, in a public grave resembling her own bed.

They called her La Blonde. The girl with the golden curls, the big blue eyes and pearls for teeth. The urchins who gave her that nickname wouldn't have recognised her, had they come across her aged twenty-six. Bald and missing her two middle front teeth, only the azure eyes remained – and their beauty lit up her whole face. But she could never see it.

She was a beauty who could have gone everywhere, but went nowhere. She lived through many hardships, but fell at the last hurdle. Her kindness, her compassion and her complete devotion to her daughter made her worthy of the happiness she frequently chased, but was cruelly kept from her grasp.

She didn't have a funeral and (in the last few months of her life) thought that if she did die no one would really miss her. Marguerite did wonder where her pretty housemate had disappeared to, but the poor woman soon turned so senile that she couldn't remember if Fantine had really existed. She died only one month later, a similar lonely death. The bohemians were more satisfactory as mourners – using their charms to bribe news of Fantine's death from someone who worked in the factory. Unable to find exactly where she was buried they placed a rose on every unmarked/mass grave in the cemetery, hoping at least one would find it's way to Fantine. Dahlia, Mika and Marie fleetingly wondered about her, but never found out anything.

Cosette had only memories that she clutched like silk threads. She recalled blonde hair, lots of it, and a soft voice. These memories caused her to adore the doll called Catherine, which Jean Valjean bought for her because it reminded him too of the mother she never knew.

There was however, someone Fantine had mattered to very much and he stood in Paris holding a red flag high above his head – having never forgotten what a servant girl had once told him about standing up for what you believe in.

"The time has come for me to tell you your mother's name. It was Fantine. You must not forget it, Fantine, and you must bow your head whenever you speak it. She loved you greatly and she suffered greatly. She was as rich in sorrow as you are in happiness. That is how God evens things out. He watches us all from above and knows what he is doing amid his splendid stars."

THE END