tushanshu_logs | [Closed] Il nous reste toute une vie pour pleurer

Entry tags:

[Closed] Il nous reste toute une vie pour pleurer

Characters: Éponine & Midii
Date: Afternoon of the 6th
Location: A Park out in the Wood Sector
Situation: Story Time with two kindred spirits
Warnings/Rating: Possible discussions of War, Death, and Loss.

Midii kept her word; the very day Éponine finally contacted her again, she was ready with her book.

It was old, yet hardly used. The outer cover showed more signs of dust than wear, and some of the pages hadn't even been cut. She'd found it in an antique shop. A collectable meant to be displayed on a shelf. The owner had probably charged her far more than it was worth...but, for once, it was a price she was willing to pay. French stories were few and far in-between in Keelai. It was the closest thing to a pleasant memory of home she would be able to find.

And now, she would have the chance to share it with somebody who understood.

She was waiting in the same place they had first met. That same park, under the same tree. Private enough for the two to share a moment together, while public enough for her to be comfortable about it. Much as the older French girl was slowly growing on her...paranoia was a deeply instilled habit she had yet to shake.

Somehow, she knew Éponine would understand.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And she would understand. Doing her best to look... somewhat put together, Eponine arrived at the park at the previously discussed time, approaching the tree. With a smile, she waved at the girl before sitting down next to her.

"Bonjour, Midii," Eponine declared. She had packed a small basket, an habit she'd developed when she spent time with Gavroche. When he would come over, she would always feed him, ask him to spend the night, and he would, in belief that he was protecting his sister, making her feel better by eating, and it ensured that she, too, ate. So now, she was doing the same for Midii, having brought sandwiches and two bottles of lemonade. Nothing fancy, but at least Midii would perhaps feel more comfortable around the older girl. Or have something to feed herself with.

"I brought you a lunch, I do not suppose you have eaten yet? If not, then I shall give you my basket and you may return it next time I see you. But I must ask how you are! I'm happy to see you again, under better circumstances."

Physical appearances seldom mattered to Midii. Having spent a lifetime focusing on clothing that was meant to be durable, fashion was still a new concept to her. Going shopping with Chekov during the whole mishap with ages and genders being switched around had been quite the ordeal. So she hardly took note of Eponine's apparel.

What she did take note of, however, was the picnic basket. It was unexpected. So very kind of her.

"I've been well, thank you."

Midii had to bite back that deep seeded sense of paranoia that came with it. After the months she had spent on the Turtle, it was still hard for her to accept kindness from certain strangers. Remembering what happened to those who had been kind to her back home. But, no, the Alliance wasn't here. She didn't work for them anymore.

Her smile was genuine, if not quite as bright as it could have been.

"I haven't eaten, actually. Maybe we could eat together?"

Just as Eponine understood the paranoia, she certainly understood Midii's feelings about accepting kindness. For Eponine, every seemingly mundane act came with an ulterior motive. Nothing ever came for free. Be it now or later, the debt would be repaid.

Likewise, any charity given was something she was loathe to receive. Charity came from a place of pity, a place where people believed they could better their own lives by doing something for the less fortunate. They saw them as a collective, not an individual person. And Eponine? Well, she certainly did not need any pity, or help. That was her father'd game. Not her own.

"Of course!" She responded in kind. "I brought two of everything just for that reason. Here." Eponine dug into the basket before pulling out both sandwiches wrapped in paper, and the two bottles of lemonade. "Look at us, picnicking in the park! We're quite fancy ladies today."

She almost laughed at the notion. Her? A lady?

"I suppose stranger things have happened." She accepted the sandwich, placing the bottle of lemonade for her at her feet. The glass was cold, a bit of condensation forming on the outer edge. Opening the wrapping revealed fresh bread. It smelled wonderful. "Did you make these yourself?"

It's a strange notion to Eponine as well, but they can have their dreams.

"Not the bread. That I bought. But the sandwich itself I made, yes. I have much extra food at my home now, I find, that I shall not eat unless there is someone to eat with me."

Because there was no one at her home to share it with. It wasn't what the older girl said, but given their last conversation, she could only assume.

"It's so strange to think there is extra here. If what they claim is true." That there was some kind of War going on behind the scenes as well. "More than once, I've walked away from a meal not only full, but with leftovers."

It was practically unheard of.

"It is," she replied, taking a bite of her own sandwich. "At home, there was not enough to go around. There never was. I became so hungry, Midii, that there were nights when I believed I was seeing and hearing things that I could not! But here, I have too much. At first, I ate too much and was sick for it. It is hard to believe there is a war here."

But this was a gift horse she would not look in the mouth. There was food, and she was no longer starving. She'd even gained some weight.

She nodded in silent agreement. Keeping her eyes lowered on the food in her hand so Eponine could not see the sadness in her eyes. The guilt.

There was not enough to go around.

Both true and misleading. There was food. But it was only ever distributed to those who could afford to pay for it. Those rich enough to hide away from the horrors of the Battlefield. And those who were desperate enough to embrace it for the funds it would provide a sick father and three young brothers. Too young to be soldiers themselves.

At this thought, however, Midii found she could no longer take another bite.

"It doesn't seem fair. That we get to eat...and they don't." The people they left behind, even though it wasn't by choice.

"It isn't fair, p'tite. But since when has life been fair to our sorts? If life was fair, Gavroche would still be here, and I would have remained dead. People are selfish, and cannot see themselves with less." She punctuates this with a sip of her lemonade.

"I believe they would want us to eat up, Midii." Did she believe it? A bit, but her own thoughts on the subject were quite different. But Midii, on the other hand, did need to eat, and she was happy to provide for her.

She almost smiled at that, a distant memory coming to mind.

"Michel would." The admission was hesitant. Very rarely did she speak about her brothers so openly. "The twins...that's debatable." A tease. Michel would always be her favorite, but that didn't mean she loved them any less. Or that they never loved and cared for her.

Eponine subconsciously echos Midii's smile. "I am sure they would wish you to eat. I know I would wish my siblings to eat. Azelma most certainly." Azelma. Whatever that girl was doing... As much as she had cared for her, she followed their father too blindly. She had to be with him, she was sure of it.

Hopefully, she would live the lives her siblings should have had.

As for the two youngest... They didn't even register.

"How many do you have?"

Siblings. Family members. People who cared about her.

"My parents- my mother is dead. Then there are my siblings, Gavroche and Azelma. I had two younger brothers, too, but... I cannot recall much of them. They were there, and then gone." A pity, really.

"I lost my mother too. She died soon after Michel was born. It has only been me, my father, and my three brothers since then."

Eponine nods slowly. "I'm sorry, p'tite. My mother died while the lot of us were jailed. Prison did not suit her. It is a hard loss." Her mother had been the only one to truly care for her.

"I'm sorry too. Papa and the boys were never in jail, but that doesn't mean they didn't suffer too." Mostly from Hunger and the pain of often going without. "Especially after Papa got sick."

"And you took care of them," she said softly, assuming it was the truth. "You're a brave girl."

Her eyes lowered at Eponine's words, finding less comfort than one might expect from them.

"I...tried. There weren't many options for kids like me."

Without thinking about it, she wrapped an arm around Midii's shoulder, pulling her close. "There never are."

Her first reaction was to stiffen. Physical contact was...a challenge for her. Instincts often warned her against it, because it meant an invasion of her personal space and less of a chance of being able to protect herself in time.

Extenuating circumstances were one thing. She had held Nanashii close when riding on the back of his motorcycle, after all, because to do otherwise would have been to risk falling off. And holding those whom she had come to know and trust implicitly were another. The twins were never that affectionate, but Michel would cling to her as if he had no intentions of ever letting go. Particularly the day she left to train with the Alliance. That day, she had held her baby brother so tightly, it was a wonder she hadn't squeezed the very breath out of him.

But here, on the Turtle, there were very few people that she felt comfortable around in that close proximity.

Eponine...to her surprise...was actually one of them; a moment later, and she relaxed in the older girls hold. Allowing the older girl to wrap her arm around her petite shoulders, Midii soon rested her head against her.

The stiffening was something Eponine was used to. Marius would always react that way, except when she had been in the body of a seven-year-old. Then he had been warm and caring. After Gavroche had left, he had been awkward, but soon relaxed around her, something that Eponine hoped signaled that their relationship was indeed changing. For the better.

When Midii relaxed, and Eponine felt the weight of her head on her shoulder, she could not help but smile, pulling the younger girl even closer. Setting her sandwich down, she gently stroked the girl's blonde hair, the way she had always liked as a child. "You are beautiful, strong, and brave. Do not forget it."

No one had ever stroked her hair like that before. It felt nice. Relaxing. Comforting and protecting. All things she hadn't felt in a very long time.

Her eyes closed.

"I don't feel very strong and brave," she murmured.

Until Midii told her to stop, she'd keep doing it. The rhytmic, repetative movement is helpful for her, too.

"That's how you know you are," she explained softly. "it's always the things we don't think we are that we are. You don't feel brave because brave is what you are. It's survival."

"Even if others had to die in order for me to live?"

That hit close to home. Not that anyone had died for Eponine- no, she wasn't worthy of that sacrifice. But she had died for Marius. It wasn't her original plan, to die for him, but rather, die with him. But he survived the barricades, she knew now.

"We must survive, so that they did not die in vain."

Midii almost wished that were the case. That the people who had died did so because they loved her. Selfish as that may have sounded, it would have at least implied some sense of acceptance of their fate. Rather than fear and shock.

"What if...surviving them was an insult to their memory? They died because of me, Eponine. I can't change that. And I don't know how to make it right."

"Shhh, p'tite," she gently said, stroking the younger girls' hair again, holding her close. "Do you think- no, come. If you had died because of someone- would you wish them ill-will from beyond the grave? Or would you want them to live?"

The fact that this was almost exactly Eponine's situation did not phase her. She had Marius now. That was what mattered. Or, at least, had him here, with her.

She did not answer the question right away. Not because she didn't know. This time, she was certain.

"If I died because of them, then perhaps not. But if they were responsible for the loss of my family..." She absolutely would. Midii had put her own life on the line for them. They meant everything to her. "Does that make me a bad person?"

Eponine had probably been anticipating a kinder, more benevolent response. Wanting Midii to realize that she really was as sweet and gentle as the older girl suspected. The problem was that it simply just wasn't true.

Eponine all too clearly recalled her words to Enjolras about Gavroche, the thoughts she had had towards Cosette, the things her father and mother had said, the curses directed at the man in the yellow jacket.

"No," she said slowly. "It makes you human."

It wasn't a comfort. But it wasn't a rejection.

Midii nodded gently against Eponine's shoulder. Inhaling deeply and slowly before letting the last of it out. The corners of her lips tugged upwards, satisfied that she was not going to be rejected simply for being...as the older girl put it...human.

"I don't think I'm very hungry right now." The partially eaten sandwich was left in her lap. It wouldn't go to waste, but she wouldn't force food on her stomach in her current mental state. "Maybe we could finish after the story?"

At the exhale, Eponine tightened the hug, enjoying the feeling of such sweet companionship. Friendly intimacy, if nothing else. She hummed absentmindedly, stroking her hair again.

"After the story, then. But you must give me your word, Midii, that you shall finish your sandwich." She gave her would could only be described as a concerned, maternal stern face. "But for now, we shall have our story."

"I promise."

She would, too. But for the moment, it was a tradeoff. The sandwich was placed aside. Lemonade, within arm's reach. In exchange, she picked up the book she had brought. It was a little more advanced than the Fairy Tales, but no less a story she was intrigued in.

"I found this one on my last trip to the Metal Sector. Do you know it?" Her fingers lightly ran over the cover: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra.

Eponine studied the cover carefully. It looked interesting enough, and the title... She'd been to the theater before. Gavroche had gotten her tickets, and she would stand in the back and watch, entranced by the comings and goings on stage, the beautiful costumes.

"I do not know it, but I am quite curious. Come! Let us read it."

"I remember hearing it was a theater show. A long, long time ago. Centuries." By her time. "Sometimes, it was still performed for the rich people who could afford to go see it. I've always wanted to."

"Theater is wonderful! I wish they had one here. Gavroche used to get me tickets, he knew actors. I should have loved to be in a performance. Perhaps even an opera!" She smiled faintly at the memory.

"There is. At least, there was a few months ago. An Opera. But not everybody could get tickets."

"Such a tragedy! Then we must have another! Or perhaps make our own." Eponine could sing, though her voice was raw, untempered.

She shook her head almost immediately at the thought, blonde hair whipping back and forth.

"No. I mean, you could. If you want. I'm sure you'd be great."

"I do not have a gift for poetry. Come, let us read. Shall I start, or do you wish to?" She was assuming they'd take turns reading it out loud to one another.

"Would you read a little bit first?"

Midii had no problems with taking over after a time, but for the moment, she found the older's voice to be incredibly soothing.

"Of course." She picked up the book from Midii, before opening it to the beginning. Shifting Midii in her arms, she placed the book on her lap and began.

"Prologue: In Which The Author Of This Singular Work Informs The Reader..."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Closed] Il nous reste toute une vie pour pleurer

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject