The Les Miserables Challenge!

18. Genevieve et Félix

18. Write a scene that has the next generation of little freedom fighters! (their children)

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“Hush-a-bye, Félix, please!” Enjolras demanded, cradling the small baby in his arms. “Please, please- do it for papa – hush now –“ The baby only yowled louder, the tears streaming down it’s pale chubby face. Enjolras was on the verge of tears himself. This really isn’t my sort of job. The revolution was easier than this. He had done everything he could think of to try and stop the child from crying; fed it, cuddled it, cradled it, even sang to it at one point! But, his little son would not be quiet. Félix cried and cried and cried, on and on and on, non-stop for the last two hours. There were dark bags under Enjorlas’ eyes, his brow was sweating, and his arms were aching. He stood and fixed the soft blanket around his son with a free hand as he wandered around the baby’s room, rocking the bundle steadily. “Oh, Joleigh please come back!” Enjolras was exhausted. His wife was out with their daughter shopping, they had left him, HIM! In charge of the baby. The old revolutionary had no idea what he was doing. It seemed the boy would never run out of tears to cry, it was like a leaky faucet. Suddenly, Félix bawled even louder resulting in Enjolras letting out a long groan. Why is this so hard? How does Joliegh do it! “Be quiet my boy. PLEASE!” Enjolras collapsed in his armchair; his blonde curls falling in his eyes. Dear God, send Joleigh back soon, I don’t think I can take it much longer… In just a few minutes the doorknob rattled.

“Ma beau! We’re back!” Joleigh’s voice burst into the room. “We have a few visitors as well!”  Enjolras’ eyes shot open and he abruptly stood, making Félix whimper. He strode into the main hall, holding the screeching child out in front of him. His wife raised an eyebrow. “Enjolras? Are you alright?”

“Take it-him!” His voice cracked. “I don’t know how to stop the crying, please Joleigh make him stop!” Joleigh, ever concerned, quickly took the baby from his arms. She quietly started hushing the child, stroking that little wisp of golden hair delicately with her fingers, whispering things barely audible. Félix’s cries slowly diminished into small whimpers. Enjolras immediately relaxed, letting out a long sigh. He kissed Joleigh on the cheek. “Thank you. So much.” He breathed. 

“Oh you poor thing.” She laughed, kissing her husband lightly on the lips. Félix let out a happy gurgle. His son looked much cuter when he wasn’t screaming. Enjolras sighed. 

“I’m a terrible father…” He muttered looking to the floor. Joleigh’s blue eyes widened with woe. 

“No!” She balanced the baby in one arm and cupped Enjolras’ cheek, “Don’t you dare say that! Félix is just a bit rowdy.” Joleigh smiled and started rocking the baby. “He has your spirit.” Enjolras leaned into the cool hand on his cheek. “Very much like Geneviève. I have a suspicion it is all the work of your genes.” His wife smirked then pulled away and moved to the baby’s room. Enjolras laughed tiredly, pushed a hand through his thick curls and wearily moved to close the door, but he stopped. 

“Joli?” He called out.

“Yes?”

“Where is that daughter of ours?” His wife’s laugh chimed from the far room.

“She’ll be coming, don’t fret, as well as the rest of the company.” 

“Company?” Enjolras looked at the door wearily. “Please don’t tell me-“  

“Papa! Papa!” A little girl of six years flew into the apartment. She smashed into her father, almost knocking him over, as she giggled. “You wouldn’t believe what Uncle Marius bought me! Oh, Papa, it’s beautiful!”