The Darkest Night Will End

The Pontmercy-Coste Flat, Paris, June 11th, 1831

The Pontmercy-Coste flat, Paris, June 11, 1831

Six months, Jacquelyn had been back in Paris living with Marius for six months and had still seen no signs of Grantaire.

It was like he disappeared completely.

This pained them very much, but they kept going because now they had a job at an old bookstore where the owner didn't care about their past and a job helping merchants down at the docks when new shipments arrived on thursdays.

Everyday they would push themself out of bed after yet another sleepless night, slowly losing more and more hope of finding their beloved.

They couldn't find him, of course, because Grantaire knew they were back, and was naturally, hiding.

As sunlight filtered through the window of the bedroom, Jacquelyn sighed and closed the book they'd been reading and blew out the candle.

They could hear Marius in the other room getting ready as they hunted for their mustard yellow skirt, the last decent one they owned.

Not much time passed until they were pulling it on over their pants, and sliding on a plain shirt.

"Kettles on!" Marius called from the kitchen.

Jacquelyn finished buttoning their waistcoat, their brother's old waistcoat, and headed out to the kitchen, skirting passed the boy in practiced routine.

They pulled out the teacups and got everything ready just as the kettle finished. They set them to steep and quickly retrieved the cravat they'd stolen from Maruis some time ago and fastened it around their neck, "Tea's done Mar."

"Thank you!" He chorused, coming back into the room and whisking the cups over to the table.

Soon enough they were both sitting, eating bread with honey.

"What's your plan for the day?" Marius asked cheerfully.

"Work, again," they sighed, "Speaking of which I must be going, Madame Moreau wants me early to help clean the shop."

Marius nodded as they stood up, grabbing their blue-grey jacket, "Have a good day!"

"You as well!" They returned, heading out the door.

Jacquelyn hurried down the street, dodging around people and humming to themself.

When they turned the corner and saw Madame Moreau coming from the other direction towards the book shop they took off at a dead run.

Jacquelyn made it to the door just as the woman pulled out her keys, "I'm not late!"

The old woman sighed, "I've told you time and time again Jacquelyn, you are allowed to be late, you work too much for someone so young."

"I'm not that young, and if I don't work I don't get paid, and if I don't get paid I don't eat."

"Its that damned king and his taxes." She grumbled, pushing open the door.

They both got to work cleaning and putting out new books.

"I'm going to open up now, if you could start reorganizing that section," She pointed, "Those students never put anything back correctly."

"Of course madame." Jacquelyn nodded and moved through the maze of shelves to the one Madame Moreau had meant.

They spent their morning pulling all the books off the shelf in that section.

People came and went and moved around them as they sat on the floor organizing the books into piles by subject and author.

"Excuse me Mademoiselle?"