once and always || enjonine

| i

enjolras and éponine initially met when he was nine years old, and she nearly seven. it had been entirely unsuspected, because, of course, no one is certain of when they may encounter their soulmate. destiny was peculiar, indeed.

the thenardiers owned a reasonably prosperous inn within the village of montfermeil. it wasn't their preference of lifestyle and comfort, as monsieur thenardier had always wished to be a general in the national guard and madame thenardier wanted nothing more but to be a princess. eponine would listen attentively to her father's tales of the battle of waterloo, a personal interest of his, and often fantasized of being a princess with her younger sister, azelma. however, life is never as forgiving as it should be and the thenardiers were subjected to misfortune.

they received a comfortable income, and although they were not necessarily bourgeoisie, they were not poor, either. éponine wore fine handmade dresses that were absent of holes or smudges, and her parents spoiled azelma and herself. the guests adored sweet little éponine: she was quite obstinate and to put it in sincerity, fastidious, but she was all the more winsome. her chocolate brown hair was satin-smooth and her eyes twinkled with a similar shade. her skin was an appealing shade of olive and although her complexion was flawed, her cheeks were rosy and dimples prevailed in her toothless smile. she was her father's little darling and her mother's little princess— perhaps because she managed to make them a few extra francs on occasion.

enjolras had endured a bit of a different life. although he was incredibly young and still possessed plenty of youth and liveliness, he attended school full time and exhibited an early devotion to studies. he had never claimed a particularly close relationship with his parents, perhaps because his father was a disciplined lawyer that had delivered him to boarding school every fall. he saw his parents faces about three of twelve months, or a quarter of the year, but they made the most of their summer together. he lived comfortably on his parents grand income and got off quite well.

enjolras was raised to be kind and courteous to whomever he may encounter; perhaps such a notion had sparked his political beliefs— however, that tale is to be told another time.

enjolras and éponine were first introduced on june 6th, 1822: a brilliant and pleasant evening accompanied by a splendid sunset. the sky had been painted a lovely combination of blush and indigo, and the moon was shyly beginning to reveal itself. the air was thick with oncoming tempest and enjolras and his parents were situated quite uncomfortably in a chaise and four. the family was on their annual summer sojourn to their vacation home in reims; however, they were beginning to grow quite restless from the excursion.

"i cannot sit in here much longer," his father had said, "and i would like to sleep in a bed tonight. i have heard tell of an inn in montfermeil: would you mind if we stopped there for the night?"

his mother's conviction did not waver. "why can't you sleep in the chaise? our trip would be far more abbreviated if you didn't insist on stopping for the night."

"oh, my body aches terribly and i cannot sit one more minute! elliot, there is an upcoming inn in this village, we will rest there for the night."

his mother began to frantically expostulate and enjolras did not speak a word throughout the ordeal; he read his book, not paying a whit of attention to their conversation. it was not as though his opinion possessed any value to them, anyways. he had learned that lesson early on and had no intention to learn it further.

within a few minutes, elliot (the coachman for the enjolras family) allowed the three of them to exit the chaise in order for him to scout the area for a secure location to park it. they cautiously approached the inn: although firelight and warmth radiated through every crevice it possibly could, the building did not appear to be exactly welcoming. it was an old chophouse, constructed of cold, gray cobblestone, and there was a poor little girl sweeping the sidewalk. she briefly glanced up at the family, her watery blue eyes threatening to weep any moment and erase the smudges from upon her cheeks.