Girls Just Want To Have... A Life (Eponine)

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

During the days, Mylène had to serve in the café as well, even though most customers were getting there as soon as the evening was drawing closer, when all of the intellectuals roaming in the Latin Quarter had done their daily shares and were out for some company. So usually the daylight hours were a little less agitated, less enough for Mylène to something get bored, and especially these days she hated to just be confined to the taproom of the café, while outside a storm might be brewing. It was maybe just a few squalls yet, but they were tangible in the air, and she would like to be where they hit, just to be in the flow of things. Mylie liked to be where life was fullest, it made her feel alive as well. There was nothing worse than numbness, and there was also nothing worse than too much thinking. Thinking about things that ought not occupy her mind, at leas not in the way they did. Mylie wasn’t a thinker, she hated to brood and to cling to ‘what if’s’ and ‘what if not’s’. But once you did some honest work, she realized, you had more time on your hand that was maybe good for you. You weren’t constantly after getting your next meal, your next few coins from the right person, and therefore you started to worry about other things than your sheer life.

It was pathetic really, just to think that her thoughts were still circling about that moment two days past. The past was gone, it was to be marked off in your head as something that didn’t affect you right now. But if your life didn’t depend anymore on living solely in the present, you apparently started to get sloppy on your own resolutions. Mylène was very intent to keep both her hands and her head busy this day, so she would’t start to think again of this feeling she had had when holding that gun...
“My, would you be so kind for a moment?!” The voice of the landlady saved her from running down that road again, and with an inward sigh of relief she tossed the cloth she had used for drying off cups on the counter and walked into the little backroom kitchen, after shooting a cursory glance around the room to see if any customer wanted her attention. Once she entered, she was greeted by an exasperated, middle aged round woman who held up a big knife and pointed it in Mylène’s direction, her hand visibly trembling. “This is NOT workin’”, she complained, tossing the knife back on the table then. “Me hand’s killin me terday, an’ before I chop off me knuckles, I take o’er the taproom. Ye chop those vegetables an’ the like for the quiche an’ take the remains out the back room. Ye know the drill!”

Mylène knew it indeed, and she chopped away, humming a song as she did so. This was better, far better, even though the motion was also a little repetitive and left room for thoughts. But at least, with a cutting motion, you could cut your thoughts short. The headquarter – chop! – a curly head bent over a volume of Rosseau – chop! – a lesson on holding a gun – chop! – a step back – chop-chop!
The vegetables looked good enough, and so she gathered the scraps together and walked towards the door. She would not throw them on the dungheap though, but put them in a little bucket she had hidden behind the wood pile to the left side of the back alley. Either a resourceful gamin or gamine would find it, or she would put it at some better place once it was full. It was the little things... after all, the only thing seperating her from those streetkids had been a stroke of luck. She could still be one of them.
Just as she was putting the bucket down, bending over to remove a few logs and in effect turning her back to the entry of the alley, she felt the tiny hairs on the back of her head rise. Someone was approaching from behind or she’d be geting old! One hand gripping a smaller piece of wood, she darted around to see who was coming.

[EPONINE THENARDIER]

The sun had finally peeked its head between the clouds and lit up the dirty street Eponine stood on. Her back pressed to the wall of the building behind her, she let a small smile ghost across her face as her skin warmed in the sunlight. She loosened her shawl from her shoulders, letting it drape gently over her arms. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a figure moving through the crowd, shadowing a group of men, small time merchants most likely. Eponine watched for a moment, recognizing the figure as a member of Patron-Minette, muscle for the job. She settled against the wall, back into the shrinking shadow of the eve. To passers-by, she looked to be a grisette, daydreaming in the warm sun. But her eyes were looking, taking in everything. She was scanning the crowd. She knew her part, to watch for any sign of trouble. So far, no one in the crowd seemed to know what was about to happen, as another of Patron-Minette joined the hunt.

And then it began. The men were boxed in, pushed back into an alley. Some girl shrieked and ran past Eponine as the men were shouting and pushing back against Patron-Minette. Eponine grit her teeth and stood up straighter, looking after the gamine as she ran around the corner. And that's when she saw them. The black and navy uniforms of the police. They were advancing down the street, hearing the commotion. "Merde," she muttered as she took off running for the alleyway, gritting her teeth. She slid to a stop on her bare feet at the mouth of the alley.


"It's the police! Run for it!" As the gang members released the collars of their victims, Eponine turned on her heel, taking off in a flash of brown and tan. She knew her part. Watch for police, cry out, and then run. Don't look back. And she didn't, for she also knew her part in the plan made her the most visible participant to the police. Already she swore she could hear the click of boots in pursuit on the stones behind her. She darted between people in her headlong crash through the crowd. Down one alley, out onto another street, her breath burning in her lungs.

Only after several minutes did she allow herself to slow and look back, half-expecting to see armed police closing on her. But there was no one. No one seemed to be paying her any mind. Quietly she slipped into the alley next to her to catch her breath, only to have a girl whirl on her brandishing a log.

"Whoa! Not here to fight!" Eponine put both her hands up and prepared to retreat back onto the street, seeking out some safer place to hole up.

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

As she had stepped out into the backstreet, Mylène’s ears had noted a commotion somewhere a few blocks away, she had heard screams, shouts and the unmistakable shrill whistling of constables dashing towards the commotion. For a brief second, it had made her hairs stand on end, since years over years of fearing that sound and darting into a run whenever you heard it anywhere near you couldn’t be erased by merely two years of not having to fear the law anymore – unless you were stupid enough. But then she had shrugged it off. After all, this was Paris, and there was something happening in every hour of the day, even in in broad daylight, since the poor of Paris were desperate. She just hoped that whoever had done ‘wrong’ this time would escape from the constables and get away safely. Yes, Mylène knew very well where her loyalties still lay.

That didn’t mean though that she would turn the other cheek once someone was out to harm HER, and so the gripping of the log had been an instinctive reaction, washing away all the coat of safety that might have been laid over her raw gamine heart. Even while with the jugglers you always had had to watch your backs, since while you might be a LITTLE higher up in the unwritten hierarchy, you still were scum in the eyes of many. But as soon as she had spun around, she found herself faced with a most unexpected sight, and one that had her lower her arm, even though her heart was still beating faster than normal. She was staring into the well familiar face of a young girl around her age, her feet bare and skin covered with the usual dirt of Parisean streets. Lord knew, Mylène had looked like that and worse in her best times, and she still sometimes did, since she just couldn’t keep off climbing walls and houses whenever she felt like it.

The girl was none other than Eponine, Thénardier’s eldest daughter and a girl Mylène had practically grown up around. There had been high and hard competition throughout all their youth, since Eponine had been with her father’s band of thieves and Mylène had had her own little group of child thieves around herself. But living the same life, sharing the same danger, the hunger and the cold formed a bond most people outside the Cour des Miracles would never understand. You would maybe cut each other’s throats given half the chance… but half the OTHER chance you would not, even look out for each other in some twisted way. During the three years of being with Les Corbeaux Mylène had met up with Éponine every other week or month, just to keep in touch, and of course now that she was working at the ABC café they were meeting again more often. Say what you want about Escroc-Monsieur Thénardier, but Eponine was alright!

Her relief at not facing any unwelcome danger erupted in a merry chuckle. “Ponine! Don’t look at me like I’m sprouting a gargoyle on me shoulder. Sorry, took ye for a rogue, ye can’t be too cautious. Wha’ s been up with ye? Got busted? Need somewhere ter hide?”

[EPONINE THENARDIER]

Eponine almost laughed in relief as Mylene lowered the log. The last thing Eponine needed was to sprint back onto the street right now. She was sure the constables were still looking for the scrawny lookout. The memories of swappong stories and competing with Mylene flooded back as she secured her shawl around her waist. Truth be told, she envied the girl. She had gotten out of the trap that a life of crime built up around those who took its path. Someday, Eponine dreamed of getting an honest job, something she could proudly tell anyone she knew. Something she could share with her friends, with Marius, without fear of the look of disappointment flashing in their eyes.

Eponine willed her heartrate to slow at seeing her friend. Her gaze flicked about the alley, trying to pinpoint her location. Was she really at the Cafè ABC? A low chuckle escaped her throat, her lips turning up in a smirk. "Oh you know, Mylene. The idiots of Parton-Minette don't seem to know the meaning of the word subtle." Glancing behind her for a moment, she moved further down into the alleyway. "Decided to rough up some merchants and attracted too much attention."

"Yeah, I could use a place to hole up for a bit. Promise I won't get in the way and I'll clear out as soon as it's safe." The thought of getting her friend in trouble knotted Eponine's stomach, but never showed on her face as she sauntered up to the barmaid. "Might even make myself useful while I'm here." With that, she bent to grab a bundle of firewood, ignoring as it bit into bare arms. "Lead the way."

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

At Eponine’s description of the Patron-Minette Mylène gave an exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes. This was just so typical, just like she remembered it. They marked the big bosses, but apart from Louis, they didn’t get half of an ounce of brain added up together! And to think that they controlled the streets! They were the ones keeping most of the poor subdued, as much as the law and their enforcers did, and she knew that Thénardier did not want anything to change. He would make sure to fight any rebellious spirit in the people he oversaw, and therefore he was a real danger to the Amis’ cause. For if the people would not rise… no, better not think about that! “When have they ever?!” she snorted and shook her head. “Seriously, quelle folie! Usually, only the desperate attack in broad daylight, right? Wha’ was there te gain, anyway?”

Mylène nodded and threw a watchful glance over Eponine’s shoulder to the opening of the alley as well, and took a short moment to listen to any approaching steps. There were none yet, but that didn’t mean anything. While constables and guards weren’t exactly known for their subtlety either, it was better to get Eponine out sight for a little while. What a stroke of luck indeed, that she had been sent to do kitchen work now! With some luck, the Madame wouldn’t return from the taproom all too soon, and she really would like the company in there, for as long as Eponine wanted to stay.
“Ahh, ‘tis fine!” she assured her friend and beckoned her to follow her towards the ajar door that lead into the small kitchen room she had left earlier. “Wha’ Madame dun know, Madame can’t resent. An’ be me guest in makin’ yerself useful, really!”

That was another thing she liked about Eponine. While she was being pampered by her father, she was not above lifting her fingers for other works that picking pockets and doing other dishonest things. She had a keen eye for what was needed and she was practical in doing it. She’d make a good working class lass… if only her father’d ever allow it. Upon reaching the kitchen, she put the four logs she had been carrying herself on the small pile next to the door, then she went back to the platter she had cut the vegetables on and mixed them into the light dough the landlady had prepared beforehand. “If the lads come ternight, they’re getting a quiche”, she explained, then added on a sudden impulse: “Stay around for fifteen minutes then ye can have one.”

[EPONINE THENARDIER]

"You know how it is. Times are tough all over. I suspect they were short on payment to Pere," grimaced Eponine, ashamed of how her father treated even his own gang. As she ducked into the backroom of the cafe, she finally let herself relax a moment. The door shut behind her, closing off the bustle of the street and she released the tension from her shoulders, tilting her head to each side to loosen the muscles of her neck after her escape. Few places in Paris made her feel as safe as the cafe. The air smelled of alcohol and wood fire and cooking food. She inhaled deeply and looked around the nearly empty cafe. She could already picture Les Amis there that evening. Enjolras would no doubt eventually find himself up on a table, capturing everyone's attention with his passoinate speech. Grantaire would crawl inside a bottle and shortly be singing some tune, much to the chagrin of most everyone there. Courfeyrac would flirt with Mylene and anything else in a skirt. Feuilly, coming just a little late, would still have his fingers stained with with paint and ink from his job.

And in the corner would sit her and Marius, Marius to listen to the plans for the placement of a republic, Eponine to just be near him. She didn't even pretend to understand half of what was said in these meetings, but if it meant a few uninterrupted hours sitting with Marius, she'd listen to a million speeches, even pretty words speaking of liberty and equality for all. No matter how little she thought their ideals would ever come about.

Mylene jolted her from her daydream and Eponine kicked herself for letting that side of herself gain too much of a foothold in front of someone. Her smirk slid back into place as she dumped the logs she carried on top of the pile. Brushing her hands on her skirt, which did little to clean them, she walked over to the small table where Mylene continued mixing. "You think they'll be here tonight?" Eponine was careful to keep her distance from the food. She knew so little about cooking, but she knew enough to know no one would want her filthy hands touching their food. Her mind began to wander again. Did Marius like quiche? Surely he did. Maybe she could learn by watching Mylene. She always was a fast learner. Perhaps she could surprise Marius some day with food, maybe a picnic in one of the nicer parks. She shook her head to clear it of her hopeful, stupid thoughts. "Hmm? Oh, no. I couldn't ask that of you. Might buy one tonight though."

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

Mylène gave another snort at that comment of Eponine’s about the members of the Patron Minette. Of course times were tough for everyone, and she’d rather have them pick on the rich than on the poor who had nothing to give anyway, but it still seemed a somewhat ridiculous thought, mirroring the farce this whole society had become: If the bullies were bullied and had to fear for their own substistence, it was nothing but a vicious circle, where you didn’t know when it would ever end or where it would ever lead. “Question now is: If Babet an’ the others can’t pay yer Dad, who’s he gonna send after ‘em to scare ‘em into it?” she scoffed. “Each other? One day Louis will get entangled in his own net, if ye ask me, he’s gettin’ far te greedy.” Not that she would be too sad if Eponine’s father would have to cut his bullying short in favour of his own health and sanity, she was already angry at him for picking on Amir and a few other people she knew… not to mention that she would never forget that one evening for as long as she would live… that knife that had found little Pépin’s chest…

Eponine seemed a little lost in thoughts as she let her gaze wander over the more or less empty taproom, where the Madame was leaning against the counter, their back turned to them and talking in a low tone to her husband who had just come back from gathering supplies. Mylène wondered what she was thinking, but the flicker of longing in the girl’s eyes already told her enough. The boys probably did think nothing of it, but Mylène knew Eponine well enough to guess why she was always around Marius. Thénardier’s daughter was as independent as a girl only could be, in her own way even stronger than Mylène’s sense of freedom was, but when things came to the good-looking young Monsieur L’Abbé… While Mylène could understand Eponine’s feelings to some extent, she often wondered why it had HAD to be Marius of all people. What was she seeing in him? But then… what did she really know of love. It probably was less about who a person was than what he could make you feel… it was certain for one that there was never so often a smile on the street girl’s face than when she was around Marius.

“Oh, dunno exactly”, she replied, a teasing smile playing around her lips. “Aren’t you the one with close contact to their very midst, with your dear Monsieur Marius? Didn’t he say something?”
Sher herself had hinted to Courfeyrac yesterday that the landlady would like to see them once again, and she had also mentioned the planning of quiches… hoping he would somehow find a way to spread it amongst them. With their new headquarter in the Rue de la Chanverrerie their leisure evenings spent in the café had become fewer… they were truly getting serious.
Mistaking Eponine’s invested look at the quiche dough for hunger and reading her refuse as a matter of personal pride, Mylène only gave a light shrug. “One more or less out o’ the oven wouldn’t go amiss, ye know. But as ye wish, ye can pay for it. Though, the currency doesn’t exactly have to be money.” It was a common thing around the usual penniless that they were paying for things not with money but either with other goods, work, or with favours. Mylène liked that sort of payment still, since it was more creative, and more handy at times as well.

Carefully, she poured the now mixed dough into several small cast iron forms and walked over to the blazing oven in the back of the small room, balancing the first four on her hands and arms. “Could ye open tha’ for me? Be careful though, use the rod over there, not yer fingers.” That had been a hard lesson to learn in her first week here, her fingers had been well-nigh unusable for about four days – and Eponine needed her fingers for so much more.

[EPONINE THENARDIER]

Eponine hugged her arms across her stomach at the mention of her father. She loved her father still, even if she hated what he had become. Despite all the tension between them, Eponine would never wish her father harm. If anythign she wished he'd just get out of the life. But in the end she knew the lure of easy money would be too much for her father to fight against. Much of the time it was hard for her to fight against.

Mylene's words broke her out of her reverie and she turned to find her friend smiling at her, a slight twikle in her eye. Eponine could feel her cheeks heating up but swore to herself she would not blush. Had her feelings been that easy to detect? She was usually so good at hiding her intentions. Who else had figured it out? Did Marius know? If he did, he made no indication he did. Eponine stammered a moment, kicking herself for letting her emotions show through. Quickly she composed herself and leaned against the wall again, shrugging. "Nothing to me. All he seems to talk about anymore is that girl he saw." It knotted Eponine's stomach to even think about Marius's descriptions of Cosette. How beautiful she was, how delicate and lovely. Everything Eponine was not.

As Mylene moved to the oven, Eponine quickly grabbed a hooked iron rod she had indicated, following her friend. It took a few tries to work the hook into the hole in the door and finally get it open. "Like I said, I'll buy one tonight. Promise. If they come tonight." Eponine chewed her lip thoughtfully, her mind drifting to the last few meetings she had attended. Things were getting more impassioned and serious with each passing week. She couldn't shake the feeling of impending dread that gripped her heart each time they spoke of taking up arms. They were betting on the people to rise up with them, a gamble Eponine was sure would cost them their lives. "I'll tell them if I see any. They're all pretty focused right now. So much planning."

((Sorry it's so short. My muse is being a brat.))

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

The girl was not replying anything to Mylène’s comment about her father, and in all honesty, Mylène couldn’t blame her. She was in the lucky position to have all ties severed with her family,them probably not even knowing she was still alive – and not caring either way. Otherwise, she might know what kind of conflict it could bring you into to walk the thin line between love and hate for the person with the same blood in their veins. Already Mylène herself was conflicted concerning Thénardier, and she was in no ways related to him. She probably shouldbe a little more careful about what she said about the Escroc-Monsieur in Eponine’s presence, so that she would not make her too uncomfortable. Then again… a snarky comment here and there probably wouldn’t go amiss, right?! That almost ought to be expected from Mylie, she wasn’t exactly a samaritan!

The same policy probably applied to teasing Eponine about Marius. It was obvious she didn’t want her infatuation or whatever it was to be found out, and Mylène respected that. Each to his own. She didn’t think Marius saw it anyway, and if one of the other lads did, they hadn’t shown it yet either. “Dun worry”, she assured her friend, biting back a smile, “Yer secret’s safe wi’me. Ye can keep gazin’ at him as if he’s got a halo ‘round his pretty head for as long as ye wish.” She gave a short laugh and then made a dimissive gesture, backpaddling on her own cheeky words. “’Tis not that bad, really. ‘E’s a fool for rejectin’ ye, ye know!” After all, by Mylène’s standards Eponine was quite a good catch. She was witty, reliable and even though she was a thief, she had her standards and was loyal to her friends. Not to mention of course that not even the whole grime of all the streets of Paris could hide her beauty.

Mylène’s brows furrowed as she heard Eponine’s comment about ‘that girl’. What on earth had she missed? A memory stirred from a night not long ago, when Marius had come in, talking about how he had just seen a goddess, but she had been too occupied with getting the serving done on this crowded night to pay much heed to is. Oh dear… if he was STILL going on about her, he must be truly smitten! “Wha’ kind o’ girl’s that?” she asked, scoffing. “Some high-born gonzesse with cream-white skin an’ water-blue eyes? How superficial!” She wouldn’t have seen that in Marius at all, since he had stayed away from girls ever since he could remember, blushing at the tiniest attempt of flirting. Poor Eponine… being disregarded in favour of a revolution was one thing, but another girl… “Quel ballot…!”

Giving a thankful nod, Mylène carefully put the quiches in the oven to bake, closing her eyes against the burning heat that almost smacked her in the face. Once they were all safely inside, she leant against the table with a satisfied sigh, but her brows furrowed again when Eponine mentioned the lads’ current mood.
“I dun like it”, she confessed with another sigh. “’Ve been te their headquarter yesterday, and they have pistols hidden away in wine cases. Think they fear they’ll have te fight. But… seriously, ‘gainst the National Guard? They’re mad!”

[EPONINE THENARDIER]

Eponine could feel her ears begin to heat, knowing full well the blush was racing across her cheeks. Her normally rough exterior was crumbling with Mylene's teasing, a slip of a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. Indignantly, she raked her jagged bangs back with her fingers, letting out a huff. "I do not look at him like that!" She fought down the urge to pick up a handful of flour and toss it at Mylene with a laugh. She hadn't spoken to anyone about her feelings for Marius, and having someone to share them with almost seemed a relief to her. Deep down she knew Mylene would never do or say anything to hurt her. If Mylene said her secret was safe, it was. She shrugged at the girl, leaning back against the counter again. "He ain't rejected me. We're just friends. Honest." In truth, she hadn't told Marius her feelings, for fear of the very rejection Mylene mentioned. So long as she never revealed them, Eponine's heart could still hope. The fear of hearing those dark words come from Marius's perfect lips to shatter her hope kept Eponine silent. The specter of failure kept her from even trying.

And now with Cosette in the picture, Eponine knew she had likely done the right thing. Her heart ached each time Marius mentioned the beauty from the street, the angel he wasn't even sure was real. She rolled her eyes dramatically at Mylene's guesses and let out a disgusted groan. "Oh, Mylene, you don't know the half of it." Eponine pushed off the counter and leaned close to her friend as if to share in some idle gossip. "She's blonde. Blonde! Her face is so clean you'd think she had been kept under glass her whole life." A twinge of guilt nearly made Eponine wince, remembering that this girl was the same one she'd mistreated as a child. Her smile faltered for a moment as she thought back to her childhood, bossing the poor unfortunate around. Perhaps God was punishing her for her past sins by bringing Cosette into Marius's life now. Eponine pushed the thoughts back, fighting with herself to remind her that she was a Thenardier, not some wilting violet. Her smirk spread across her features again. "Can you believe it? Some little delicate bourgeois thing. Who on earth knows what he sees in her. Probably the mystery. We always want most what we can't have, right?"

As the conversation drifted to the plans and preparations for the revolution, Eponine's mood darkened. The last thing she wanted was any of her new friends dying in the massacre that was sure to come if they continued on this path. Her head jerked up at the mention of hidden pistols and the threat of the National Guard. "My God. They're really set on this, aren't they?" Her mind began racing through all the scenarios that could play out if they did start fighting. None of them ended happily. She couldn't get the image of Marius lying the street, covered in blood, out of her head. "They're going to die if they do. I don't think they have any idea what they're up against. There's no way they can be prepared for a fight like that." Eponine again chewed her lip, deep in thought. She had to figure out a way to this all, or help the outcome. Marius had to live.

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

There! She had managed to make Eponine laugh, even if it was mixed with an indignant huff. It was certainly part of what Mylène had aimed for, since she did want to see a smile on this girl’s face more often. She took life way too serious sometimes, and if she could laugh about her feelings for Marius, then Mylène hoped it wouldn’t hurt so much. Not that she had any true experience with being in love with someone, but she had seen the flicker of hurt in Eponine’s eyes and therefore had tried to lighten the mood in the only way she could think of: making fun of things. Whether her friend was honest now when she referred to them as ‘merely friends’ – it might certainly be true from Marius’ point of view though – remained to be seen. She would certainly wish Ponine some happiness, good Lord, the girl did deserve it!

Apparently though, the matter was more serious with this new girl in the picture, and Eponine didn’t seem half as detached from the situation as she had wanted to appear. Her indignation about the sheer looks of her apparent competition made Mylène chuckle, but there was a disbelieving undertone in her voice as well. An ethereal creature then, from the sounds of it, one of those high gonzesses indeed. How predictable those boys could be after all! She sounded more like a doll than an actual girl, an image which you just had to prick with a needle and POOF it would implode like a swine bladder. “King Louis’ rotten head, yer bein’ serious?!” she exclaimed with a snort. “Wha’ could he possibly see in her indeed! Tha’s how far they all go wi’ their equality… all men are brothers but as soon as the ladies come in, it has to be a princess, not a normal girl tha’ knows how life works an’ hasn’t been handled with kidgloves.”
Only when she had finished that little tirade, Mylène realized she had been talking as much of herself as of Eponine, and she blinked, her face turning thoughtful for a second as Eponine made that fitting comment about everyone always wanting the unattainable. Whether it be freedom or a person… the grass was always greener on the other side. “Seems te be a catchin’ disease ‘round here, ye know”, she murmured.

Mylène knew that Eponine was much against the way this had turned out concerning the coming of change and the rebellion, and even though she herself was a fervent supporter, there were things giving her worries as well, as much as she hated worries. “Dun get me wrong here, I think they’re right in tha’ change has te come, and fast! It’s not them tha have the aggression, it’s them who dun want the change an’ have the resources te prevent it. It’ll be the army tha’s gonna shoot firs’ an’ if the lads dun have any weapons, they’re gonna get killed for sure!”
She let out and angry growl and punched her fist against the counter. There was a reason for becoming livid! It was so highly unfair! All Les Amis wanted was a better world, but those with the might would not yield without violence! Her mind went back to yesterday, when Courf had shown her how to hold a gun. It had felt strange, had felt evil to hold a thing like this, but she had seen how he had been torn. She wished she could spare him this disillusion, but she could not. But she also would not be watchin him running into certain doom and save herself. “An’ if I have te make sure myself they have ‘nough bullets and powder!” she muttered, voicing her defiant conclusion aloud.

Suddenly an idea came to her mind. It was desperate and pure madness, but then you had never seen Mylène's mind being particularly reasonable...

[EPONINE THENARDIER]

Eponine laughed derisively, shaking her head. In her mind she had thought the same thing, over and over. That if she was cleaner, prettier, more demure, Marius might finally notice her. If she looked like one of those precious porcelin ladies that went nowhere without being on the arm of a man, looking so fragile that they might faint if their man got more than ten feet from them, maybe, just maybe, she would finally be something the young baron would take note of. Of course these thoughts were immediately pushed aside as Eponine remembered that she hated those women, weak and pliable as they were. At times she wondered if they would last a day without a man to take care of them. To become one of them, she'd have to give up nearly everything that made her... well, her. And she just knew she'd shatter the illusion when her temper and mouth got the better of her. "They all just want someone they can take care of. It makes them feel important," Eponine giggled to her friend. "We allow it so they don't mope. Can't stand a moping man."

Eponine knew the boys would never seek out a fight with the Guard. That just wasn't their style. If anything, most of them would rather see their great change come about without a drop of blood spilled. But Eponine knew that was just a fever dream. Change like this was hard and messy and costly. Freedom is bought with that most precious asset, blood. Eponine only prayed it wasn't her friends' blood, not Marius's blood. The boys however did not seem to realize the full extent of the price they were going to pay. From the sound of it, Eponine thought they were nowhere near as prepared as they should be. Pistols hidden in wine casks? Was that the extent of their arms? Did they think they could shoot a couple bullets and the Guard would just lay down their weapons and surrender? In her mind, Patron-Minette was more heavily armed when they went to raid a house than these fiery revolutionaries.

She turned to Mylene, seeing the same worry and anger on her face that Eponine felt. The assault on the counter only punctuated what they both felt. Eponine wanted so badly to reassure her friend that the boys they cared about would be fine, but she couldn't bring herself to lie. Not even to herself. Her eyes went wide at Mylene's last statement, her heartrate jumping again. Finally! Something she knew she could do to help! Gunpowder was not an easy thing to get, but perhaps between the two of them, they could lay their hands on enough for Les Amis to hold out. "And how exactly do you propose to do that?" Eponine had a few crazy ideas herself, but better to hear Mylene out first. Then if needed, Eponine's own brand of insane planning could be heard.

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

It seemed like Eponine had not noticed Mylène’s little personal slip and for that she was glad. It would have probably led to an endless round of questions which she wouldn’t even be able to answer herself as things were now. Eponine was good at that, teasing things out of you you hadn’t even known existed, it was a talent Mylène had always been a little envious of. She could make people laugh and be angry with her observant teasing, but that was probably about it. Right now, there was yet another proof of how easily her friend could have the world mapped out in just a few short sentences. Whoever said that a street girl had no wits about her clearly was in the wrong! Mylène would take one Eponine over a thousand literate and sophisticated hussies of the higher class!
“Darn right y’are!” she agreed with a snorting laugh. “Yeah, men the mighty saviours an’ guardians o’ dainty damsels ‘n’ distress. Them always forget tha’ twas a woman who gave ‘em life with her bravery in inexcruciable pain while their fathers outside the door fainted at ev’ry scream she couldn’t hold!” She stuck out her tongue at her friend. “Me, I rather ‘ave a mopin’ man than bein’ forced inte submission. Whoever wan’s me, has te deal wi’ me!”

It was this resolution that also made her adamant in not wanting to lean back and let the events unfurl without throwing in her own two cents. She was not the girl to sit and yearn, had never seen any sense in just waiting for something to happen. Life was not like that, it didn’t give you any gifts, and wishing for something better never had made you any less hungry or any less cold. If you wanted change, you had to bring it about yourself. Mylène might be ‘only a girl’, but she had survived as a girl in circumstances most of the ABC friends had never known, and likewise had Eponine. They both knew what they were worth and as such they would not send their friends off to battle and count the hours until they might or might not return. Mylène herself did not want to take up arms, but she knew that if there was a conflict others would. And she better wished her friends to be well armed than the National Guard.

Eponine seemed as electrified all of a sudden as she was, and this convinced Mylène to voice her idea, how crazy it might sound even in her mind. It could be such a suicide mission… but then, if she didn’t have to do it alone… “Well, there are the small forts and the storages along the city walls”, she pointed out, cocking her head. “I’ve loitered around there often enough te know tha' they always have a good stock o' weapons and munition there, in case the city walls need te be quickly armed.” Mylène had been a small child and not even in Paris back then, but she had heard stories about the siege of Paris after Napoleon’s defeat. The Parisiens surely had learned their lesson. “It’ll be risky of course. One’d had to get in there first…”

[EPONINE THENARDIER]

Eponine couldn't help but roll her eyes at Mylene and laugh. "I am not a damsel and I certainly never in distress." One of the things she'd always liked about Mylene was her ability to not only to tease, but to be able to bring out a smile with the same. She may poke fun, but it's always harmless, unlike some of the others in Eponine's life. Sharing her secret jealousy of Cosette with Mylene took away some of the hurt and relieved some of her shame she felt. She couldn't tell anyone else, most of her friends were closer to Marius than with her. Mylene would never betray her though. And for that she was thankful. She needed a confidante more and more these days.

The idea of stealing from the National Guard thrilled Eponine more than it should any sane person. But then Eponine's sanity was usually up for debate. It made sense though. If the revolutionaries needed to be better armed, whet better place to get it than from the Guard? Every bullet taken from then would be one less they could fire at her friends. Every bit of gunpowder made them that much weaker and boosted her friends' odds of survival. Eponine would even bet all the money she nicked in a year that the guns the Guard has were better than whatever the people of the streets could scrape together. If the people were going to rise like Enjolras had said so many times, they would need to be armed as well. If she couldn't keep Marius from fighting, the least she could so was make sure those fighting with him were as well-armed as they could be. Sticking it to the Guard was a nice side effect. Eponine had had more than one run in with the state in her short life in Paris, and she generally thought them to be self righteous and to quick to turn a blind eye to the circumstances of the people of the street. Any chance to undermine them was something Eponine relished.

She leaned across the counter to Mylene, a crooked smirk upon her face. "You sound like you might have an idea." Eponine had seen the same storages around the city as she darted across streets and down alleys. They were pretty hard to miss, always guarded and well-secured. Getting in would be nearly impossible. Getting out with anything of value would be even harder. Still she could feel her heart race as she thought about showing up at the next meeting with fresh supplies. The looks she imagined on their faces brought out a laugh. Shock and amazement and maybe a little respect for the two girls. Of course they would tell the girls they were foolish for trying something so dangerous, but Eponine and Mylene would just smile. She turned her attention back to Mylene, dropping her voice so not to be overheard. "You'll need a good lookout. And there's no way you can carrying enough to make a difference alone." Holding her hand out to her friend, she grinned widely. "Count me in."

[MYLÈNE LACOQUINE]

Living the life she did and having the family she had, Eponine’s definition of ‘distress’ would certainly differ from what the boys would think about it. For them, Ponine was possibly a great example of a damsel in distress, the way she always had to run and hide from the state, the guards, the police… and yet with her overall personality, she really wouldn’t be able to pull that card of having to rely on the strong arms of a man to survive. The way Mylène remembered her, Ponine could swear and curse like a sailor and drink like one as well. With a slight smile grazing her lips for a moment, she remembered a few occasions of the happier, the beginning and forming time of the ABC friends when they had been a bunch of rascal dreamers, and the only thing heated had been their words, their eyes when they followed ladies and their heads after consuming too much wine. There had been a night once when Ponine had drunk them all under the table… well, maybe safe for one.
“An’ if ye ever dare te become a damsel, I’ll set yer head straight!” she threatened her friend good-naturedly. “We gamines dun do distress, right? We always get out o’ those tight spots alone… somehow!” One day, she knew that as well, their luck might cease to hold, but she’d not change her behaviour because of a mere possibility.

The idea she had had was crazy beyond belief and half of Mylène expected Eponine to tap her forehead at her now, but then she should have probably known better than that. There was nothing Ponine would not do to ensure Marius’ odds were raised in the oncoming highly possible confrontation, and so breaking into one of the Guard munition storages was just the risk she would take. You made your bed, Mylène… now lie in it!
She tried to envision one of the storage buildings in front of her inner eye, but the most prominent of the pictures was that of guards teeming around. The Guard might be many things but sadly not overall stupid. Especially with tension mounting, they would not leave their munition stock ungarded. They either would have to go there in the dead of the night… or while some sort of distraction was going on. In any way, their plan would have to be watertight… as watertight as a basically suicidal mission could be.

She had silently hoped for Eponine to subscribe to it still, and when she did it felt like a heavy load was lifted from Mylène’s heart. It would still be downright deadly, but with Eponine there… Gripping the hand with a relieved laugh, she gave it a firm shake. “I’d have no one else by my side, Ponine. Let’s go down in history as the stupidest gamines of Paris… and those who saved their hero friends backsides, d’accord?” She bit her lower lip and cocked her head. “Now… we need a plan. Yer right, we need sumthin te carry our treasures home unseen, even wi’ the two of us. We need escape routes. An…” Another devilish idea had just crossed her mind, something that would put the odds even more into the lads favour, if they could really do it. “Wha’ we can’t take, we destroy. Water’s deadly on gunpowder, since ye know as well as I do… they can’t exactly dry it wi’ fire!”