Disclaimer: I do not own any Hamilton or Les Miserables characters. The only one I do own is Angelica Georgia Laurens-Lafayette.

August 20th, 1830

Third Person POV:

It is around 8:30 PM when Marquis de Lafayette and his granddaughter, Angelica Georgia Laurens-Lafayette, return to their home in New York City, New York, America. The marquis, an old man at seventy-two years of age, lives alone with only his granddaughter for company, his wife having died years prior. Lafayette has seen the American revolution blossom before his eyes, witnessing the new country flourish and grow rapidly in leaps and bounds. He has heard of the pitfalls that have overcome the French monarchy, making his heart clench in sorrow for his fellow Frenchmen and Frenchwomen.

Angelica Georgia Laurens-Lafayette was named after Angelica Schuyler and George Washington, both prominent figures in American history, by her grandfather's suggestion. Her dark brown hair frames her soft face, a vision to behold, and falls down her back until finally stopping at the bottom of her shoulder blades. Only nineteen, her youthful appearance hides her intelligent mind, one so much like her grandfather before her. The beautiful young woman has very strong beliefs, ones that never waver in her conviction of what is right to her.

"Grand-pére, you should go to bed soon," Angelica says quietly to her grandfather as they walk up the stairs together, Lafayette holding his cane in one hand and the railing in the other.

"I will, my dear," Lafayette responds to his granddaughter's wish. "You also need to go to bed. Morning will come early, for we will be travelling to France tomorrow to speak with the king." Angelica's eyes flash to her grandfather's as she stops in her tracks.

"We're going to France? Why? Is something wrong?" the woman quickly says, concerned.

"We are going to France, yes. You and I are going to speak to the king of France to help him run the country. Our goal is to convince the king to help the ever-increasing number of poor citizens in France, as they helped us in the American Revolution." Angelica, finally reaching the top of the staircase, turns towards her grandfather, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Oui, grand-pére," she says softly. "I will go and pack for our voyage." Angelica closes the door to her room, leaving her grandfather staring at the white wooden door and smiling gently at it. The man walks into his own bedroom and starts getting ready to retire to his bed. Both Angelica and Lafayette slip into a blissful sleep, dreaming about what is to become of them once they arrive in France.

*******

The wood of the majestic barricade crumples under the barrage of cannonballs being fired at it from the French National Guard just paces away. A blonde man in a scarlet red jacket stands guard over the barricade, pistol blazing with gunfire as he aims at the invaders. However, his attention is diverted to a woman standing tall near two others, one a man with curly black hair and a handsome smirk and one another man with sandy brown hair and glasses. Both are carrying guns.

The woman's left hand is adorned with a sparkling engagement ring, one that the curly-haired blonde man had placed on her fourth finger only days before. Her right hand clenches the trigger of the pistol she's carrying, bracing for the kickback in the wooden steps of the towering barricade. An explosion sounds from the right of the woman as wood from the furniture creating the barricade shatters. The woman ducks under the sharp fragments as she inches her way towards her fiancé.

However, she doesn't make it there in time. A gunshot rings out from the opposing side of the barricade and it flies through the air straight into the blonde man's gut. He sinks down onto his knees, still desperately trying to fight off the National Guard.

"ENJOLRAS!!" the woman shrieks as she runs towards the man. His hand is pressed into the bleeding gunshot wound, trying to quell the blood flow even though there is no use. The woman slides next to the blonde, apparently named Enjolras, and cradles his head in her hands. "Mon amour, please don't leave me," she begs as he grabs onto her hand.

"Angelica," the man rasps, his voice an echo of the rich, eloquent prose it uttered mere days before. "Leave the barricades. Leave me here. You must live, ma chérie."

She shakes her head. "I'm not going to leave you, mon couer." She leans over his dying body and kisses him softly. The life leaves his dark blue eyes, eyes that were once sparkling with fervor and revolution. Angelica looks up towards the sky and starts to cry, great heartbroken sobs that shake her whole body and cause the other men to try to comfort her.

Lafayette shoots up in bed, gasping great lungfuls of air as he regathers his bearings. The blankets are wrapped around his legs and his palms are clammy with sweat.

"Who was that man?" Lafayette questions himself softly. "He seems enraptured with my granddaughter. Why was there bloodshed? Why were the National Guard fighting French citizens? I need to talk to the King quickly, to cause this dream of mine to never become a reality."

Author's Note: I know most people here aren't fluent in French, so here's the French to English guide:

grand-pére = grandfather

oui grand-pére = yes grandfather

mon amour = my love

ma chérie = my darling

mon couer = my heart

And that's it! Hope you guys enjoyed!!

        -Kaylin