Revolutionary Fire

3. Who Am I?

I was awoken to the sound of a harsh banging on the door. With a yawn, I got out of bed, Apollo groggily getting up as well. I opened the door to see a tall man in a black uniform. He was a police officer. Holding my chin high, I faced him as Enjolras appeared. As I was only in my night gown, he hid me behind him and asked, "Can I help you?"

"Are you Apollo Enjolras?" the man demanded.

"Yes," he replied uncertainly.

"Apollo Enjolras, you are under arrest under suspicion of being a revolutionary," the officer stated, beginning to cuff him.

"With what proof?" he retorted, struggling slightly. The man dragged him away. I stood there, frozen in shock. Finally, I had the sense to shut the door.

"They think Apollo's me," I whispered. "Didn't have a second thought. This stranger they have caught. This man could be my chance. Why should I save his hide? Why should I right this wrong? When I have come so far, and struggled for so long. If I speak, I am condemned. If I stay silent I am damned. I am the leader of numbers of women, they all look to me. Can I abandon them, how could they fight if I am not free. If I speak, I am condemned. If I stay silent I am damned...

"Who am I? Can I condemn this man to slavery? My husband, though he be? This innocent who bears my name. Who goes to judgement in my place. Who am I? Do I let others die for me? Pretend I'm not the woman I brag to be. And must my name until I die, be no more than an alibi. Must I lie? How can I ever face my fellow man.

"How can I ever face myself again. My soul belongs to God I know. I made that bargain long ago. He gave me hope when hope was gone, he gave me strength to journey on. Who am I? Who am I? I'm the Phoenix! And so police you see it's true, That man bears no more guilt than you. Who am I...Madame Enjolras." I ran to my room, changing into my blood-red dress and a white shawl. Forgetting my coat, I ran from the building to the police station.

As I approached, I spotted Marius leaving. He caught sight of me, grabbed my arm, and hissed, "You didn't say, Madame, Enjolras was your husband."

"How do you know him?" I retorted, trying to get out of his grip. "Now let go of me. I need to turn myself in. They will kill him and I won't let them kill him in my place."

"I've gotten him off," Marius countered. "He should be heading out in a few moments."

Finally, I saw Enjolras and rushed up to him. "Are you alright?" I asked. "How did they let you go?"

"Marius managed to get me off," he explained. "Seems the two of you already met."

"I see," I replied, glancing nervously at Marius. "Well, we should get you back home. It's cold and you have no coat."

"Neither do you, Blaise," he chuckled. It was the first time I'd seen him smile in a long time. I merely shrugged. As we walked, Apollo went ahead to give some money to the poor as I did the same, but Marius followed behind me.

"Does he know?" Marius asked, referring to Apollo.

"No, and he's not going to," I retorted. "His parents are huge royalists. For all I know he's the same." Marius snorted but didn't say anything other than...

"And how long have you been married?"

"Two years," I admitted.

"How long have you had that group?"

"Seven years, sort of. I began to group before I went to Spain. I've been gathering foreign contacts while helping with the group from afar," I replied. Marius opened his mouth to say something, but he shut up as Apollo joined us again and we kept walking.

Once we got back home, Marius began to leave, but Apollo called, "Wait, Marius. Did you do what I asked you to?"

"Not yet," he admitted. "But I'm going to. By the end of the day."

"Good," he replied with a small nod. "I'll see you later then." Marius nodded and disappeared. Now that Marius was gone, I was finally able to get a good look at Enjolras.

I quickly looked him over for bruises or anything, but I didn't seem to see anything until I shifted over his shirt collar. He had a large bruise on his chest and collarbone that looked like he had been hit. His wrists were also severely bruised and swollen. I sighed, my hands around his wrists gently.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, not looking at him. "This is my fault."

His brows furrowed as he retorted, "This isn't your fault, Blaise." After a pause, he admitted, "I'm surprised at your lack of shock. I thought you liked the police." I snorted.

"Please, Apollo," I scoffed with a small laugh. "Just because I'm a woman from a wealthy family doesn't mean I'm blind or ignorant. I know the police are harsh and cruel with no reason." After a pause, I said, "I'm not the same person I was seven years ago, Apollo."

"No," he agreed. "Back then you smiled. You were happier."

"Blissful ignorance isn't happiness," I countered, frowning. "It's sickening ignorance." I moved away from him and towards our bedroom so I could sit and think. As strange as it seems, that seemed to be the first conversation we'd had since I went to Spain where we were actually honest with each other. I frowned. He had thought I'd be the one to believe in the police. Huh. Is he less ignorant than he lets on? I spent the day in silent pondering before I headed to the meeting.