The Barricade Girl (A Les Miserables FanFiction)

Chapter Forty-Nine

Enjolras leaps from the top of the carriage, landing swiftly on the ground. Before my brain catches up with the speed Enjolras is working at, he's already reaching up to lift me off the carriage, planting me firmly on the ground. Marius and Courfeyrac jump down too, joining us in the street. The crowd has gone wild, and gun shots ring off in all directions. Enjolras takes my hand.

"Stay with me, okay?" He shouts above the noise. The four of us run through the streets, frantically pushing through the crowds to get back to the street of the Café Musain. The rest of our boys follow up, picking up speed and running faster than they've ever run before.

Before we know it, we arrive at our destination, and the boys put into action the plan that they've been scheming for months. Joined by members of the crowd and other citizens who work just as hard as our boys, they start to raid fencing and gun shops for weapons. The boys pull up stones from the ground and rip boards and wood from buildings, houses and shop-fronts. They raid the Café Musain, much to the aggravation of Madame Houcheloup. She tries to fight it, but Grantaire takes one for the team and distracts her by planting a kiss on her lips. Madame slaps him on the back of the head, absolutely outraged.

"I've always loved you Madame Houcheloup! Didn't you know?!" He jokingly winks at her as he staggers away, carrying a chair in each hand. Wives are forced to give up their husbands' muskets for the good of the people, and homeowners are encouraged to donate their furniture to the cause. In a matter of minutes, the street is raining with furniture – tables, chairs, beds, mattresses, bookcases – all falling from high windows, meeting the ground with an mighty crash. I stand looking up in awestruck wonder before being knocked to the ground, a heavy weight on top of me. My eyes close as the impact hits me, bracing myself for injury. But nothing hurts. Nothing stings with pain. I open my eyes to look at the weight on top of me. It's Enjolras.

"What are you –?" I start to ask.

"You almost got hit by a falling piano..." He smirks. "If you're going to die in a revolution, at least try and avoid death by piano..."

It doesn't take long for the barricade to start to take form, rising up outside the Café Musain – our family's little home. The boys and citizens are starting to become tired, but Enjolras tries to keep their spirits up as we build.

"Here upon these stones we will build our barricade!" He rallies them. "In the heart of the city we claim as our own. Each man to his duty and don't be afraid". He instructs, but then pauses, interrupting himself. "Wait!" The men all stop their working to listen to what he's going to say. "I will need a report on the strength of the foe".

"I can find out the truth!" A voice pipes up. Enjolras gazes around, looking for the owner of the voice. Some of the boys step aside, creating a parting in our small crowd, revealing a man dressed in worker's clothing and the insignia of our group. He had been helping build our barricade, and this was the first time he had spoken, and it seems that I am not the only one who has been unaware of his presence up until now. Enjolras doesn't answer, but looks at him, impressed and willing him to carry on speaking. "I know there ways", the man continues, "fought their wars, served my time in the days of my youth". Before Enjolras can answer, the man slips away through the rising barricade, eager to volunteer and help the cause. Enjolras comes to stand beside me, crossing his arms, a little bemused at what has just happened.

"Did you know that man?" I ask him.

"I have no idea who that was..." His puzzlement manifests itself in his voice.

"See! The people unite!" Prouvaire exclaims, slapping Enjolras on the back, unable to hide his excitement, taking this stranger's willingness as a sign that the people are uniting to our cause.

"Pray your right", Grantaire murmurs, a little more sceptically. And secretly, in my own heart, I feel something telling me not to get my hopes up. Something doesn't seem right, but I can't put my finger on it.

"Dogs will bark!" Combeferre punches the air.

"Fleas will bite!" Gavroche's little voice pipes up. Immediately I rush towards him, and Enjolras follows me.

"They will do what is right!" Lesgles proclaims to the rest of the boys as I walk out of earshot and towards Gavroche. In the background, the boys and the rest of the civilians continue building the barricade.

"Gavroche! What are you doing out here?" I crouch down so I'm looking him right in the eye.

"I've come to help!" He says proudly.

"I told you to stay in the Café Musain!" I warn him.

"Enjolras told you to stay at home!" He cheekily replies, folding his arms. Enjolras snorts, trying to hold in his laughter. I try to glare at Enjolras, but can't.

"...Point taken", I smirk. "You really will be safer inside though..."

"But I want to be with you two and the others! Please let me help! Please..." He pleads with me. Not getting the answer he wants from me, he turns to look at Enjolras. "Please, Enjolras. Let me help. Please", he begs.

"Fine", Enjolras answers.

"Enjolras!" I stand up quickly in protest. "You can't –"

"He'll be safer with us, Juliette", Enjolras places his hands on my shoulders. "That way, we know where he is. We're his family. He belongs with us". I look at Enjolras, not wanting to agree with him, but knowing that I don't have any other choice.

"Fine..." I reluctantly agree.

"That's my girl", Enjolras smiles.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Gavroche wraps his arms around our waists, hugging himself into us. If I could freeze this moment, I would. Our little family. I look at Gavroche, so innocent, so excited, looking at the barricade as if it is his own personal playground. I feel a motherly responsibility toward him. I would give my life to protect him. In that moment, I make a vow – I make a silent promise to God that, as long as I'm living, I will protect this little life.

In no time at all, the barricade is finished. Impressive and spectacular – twelve feet high, with two smaller barricades to protect the left and right sides of the Café Musain. Gun in hand, Enjolras climbs halfway up the main barricade, and turns to face us, like a Commander facing his army. Raising his gun in the air, Enjolras addresses his troops.

"Red, the blood of angry men!" He bellows.

"Black, the dark of ages past!" Our little crowd joins in. "Red, a world about to dawn! Black, the night that ends at last!" Enjolras locks eyes with me. The moment that he had been imagining and planning for so long was finally here. And he had never looked more glorious – standing there, atop the barricade, his blonde curls blowing in the soft breeze, his blue eyes sparkling, and his burgundy jacket looking more striking than ever.