Irhaboggle Pride (2018) 30 Days, 30 Stories

French Pantheon

Grantaire might've been an insatiable drunk, but he was still a Parisian student. Because of that, although it was seldom that his head wasn't in a bottle or a gutter, he did still remember a few of the lessons his fancy education had given him. One in particular was about the Greek gods. And although the Greek gods were numerous, a certain few did stick out to Grantaire. They were the only few he'd talk about with something akin to faith in his voice. But why? Why would the skeptic who refused to believe even in the Christian God, or just about anything else in life, believe in a handful of Greek deities? Well, in his mind, those gods were real, and walked among him every single day. The Greek pantheon was real! It just went under a different name: The Friends of the ABC, the French Pantheon.

Their little room over the tavern was their Olympus, and the seats at the tables were their thrones! Each student was a god, one of the pantheon and a vital piece of the puzzle. Even Grantaire saw himself as such. Here, every god had a place and purpose, and was necessary to keep their Olympus from falling. And, as he watched these gods in mortal coils sitting on creaky wooden thrones over Paris, judging her, he could name every single god at the meeting.

First, there was the happy-go-lucky student of medicine, Joly.

Next, there was the unattached and unknowable Marius, restless and angry and tumultuous.

Then, there was the wild and free spirit named Gavroche, who feared and bowed to nothing except himself.

Next was the heart of the group, the one who kept the Friends together and brought fresh blood in. Courfeyrac.

Then there was Feuilly, the orphan who had adopted the world as his own and was the nurturer of the group.

Next was the innocent Jean Prouvaire, loved by all, and as sweet as could be, so childish and pure despite being the same age as everyone else.

Then there was the loud-mouthed, large-hearted, free-spirited Bahorel, traveling between the Friends and various other groups around Paris. He was an excellent conduit for communication and comedy.

Then came Bossuet, who preferred the name Lesgle, and was as unlucky as could be. Only his smile and his humors never failed him.

Next was Combeferre, wise and calm. Him, the second in command and the diplomat of the group, slow to anger and quick to intellectual debate.

And as for the first in command... Enjolras. Enjolras, Enjolras, Enjolras...

Despite the drunken haze clouding his mind, Grantaire studied the handsome fellow closely. There were a few differences between the Greek pantheon and this French one. The first was that not every single god matched up perfectly with a student. For example, the above stood as Apollo, Poseidon, Pan, Hestia, Demeter, Artemis, Hermes, Hephaestus and Athena. And of course, Grantaire was Dionysus. So the pantheon was still missing Zeus, Hades, Hera, Aphrodite and Ares.

Now, one would immediately assume that Enjolras would be Zeus. But Grantaire never saw it that way. For one, Zeus was infamous for having many, many, many, many, many affairs. Enjolras, meanwhile, was very vocal about his choice to remain celibate. Rumor said he'd never even held a woman's hand before, let alone gone further than that. As for Hades? Well, as serious, intimidating and gloomy as Enjolras was, his words spoke of new life, not of death or finality. And he was no Hera because, although he was a leader, he had no interest in marriage. This was also why he could not be Aphrodite. But perhaps... Ares?

In Grantaire's hazy head, watching Enjolras speak of revolution, war and freedom, always felt far more Ares than Zeus. Zeus already had total control over his world. Enjolras did not. He was still fighting for it, and fighting was what Ares did best as the God of War. Like Ares, Enjolras was aggressive, fierce, powerful, intimidating, commanding and bent on victory in combat. How many days had he spoken of battle? How many nights had he spent pouring over plans and maps? How many people had he tried to enlist and how many arms had he stolen or built? Enjolras was no Zeus, he was Ares! He was a warrior, his colors were red and black! He was no Zeus.