Disclaimer: I only own Marie's sisters and her middle name. Everything else either is history or stuff Victor Hugo owns. Even though I wish Les Miserables was real so that I could date Enjolras because he is hot AF and I love him.

June 17th, 1826

Julien's POV:

I stand in the balcony for a long while, staring at the door where Marie exited in shock. I guess my first thought on Marie's personality is completely wrong. I sigh and run my hands through my blonde hair. Why did I tell Marie that I'll be at the Café Musain? We're planning a revolution there; she's the princess of France!!! I'm such an idiot. I exit the balcony and search for my friends again, finally seeing them. Oh god, Courf's even more drunk. He can barely stand without swaying. I make my way over to them and lean against a stone column. Apparently I do not look well, according to Joly. Everyone looks unwell to him, though.

"Enjolras, what's wrong?" Marius questions, concerned.

"Are you sick?" Joly starts panicking, putting his hand to my forehead. I smack it away.

"No, I'm not sick," I say forcefully in response.

"Did you get married to a croissant?" Courfeyrac slurs. I stare at him in disbelief. Where the hell did that one come from?

"NO!!" I shout, voice getting drowned out from all of the conversations being carried on around us. Also the feeling that I'm drowning in some emotion that I've never felt before. What's going on with me? Combeferre sighs, looking up from his book.

"You're in love, aren't you?" he questions monotonely, going immediately back to his book that he's reading. WHAT???

"What-I-um-no!!!!" I splutter, shocked at Combeferre's insinuation. Courf chokes on his champagne.

"You are in love, you sly dog!!" he yells, already completely 100% inebriated, a bit louder than I would have liked.

"So what if I am?" I respond, sighing and finally admitting that I might have feelings for Marie. Just might.

"Jesus Enjolras, you are 'the marble man.' You never looked at a girl before today and here you are already in love? This is important," Courf says, stressing the last word and adding unnecessary syllables to it.

"Even if it is 'important' to quote you, Courf, it'll never work out," I say harshly. Marius and Joly do a double-take while Courf and Ferre stand there stoically. Courfeyrac and Combeferre have been my best friends since we were toddlers. I feel like sometimes 'Ferre knows me better than I know myself.

"At the risk of sounding like Jehan," Joly says quietly as if he doesn't want to anger me more, "love always works. Is there a powerful reason why you shouldn't tell this mystery girl your feelings?" I sigh long-sufferingly, not believing that I'm talking to people about love.

"She's bourgeois." 'Ferre raises an eyebrow and rolls his hand in a 'continue' motion.

"I see," Marius responds, confused about why this matters. There's no way to phrase this lightly. So I drop the bombshell.

"She's the oldest fucking Princess of France." Courfeyrac and Combeferre's eyes grow wide, whether it's from me swearing or Marie's identity. Joly and Marius choke on air.

"Oh shit."

Courfeyrac, after getting over his shock, starts to laugh, a great roar that starts in his belly and bubbles out of his throat. I feel like wanting to punch him. "Oh the irony," he gasps out in between chuckles. "You, the man planning a revolution, fall for the daughter of the one you're planning on guillotining!!" I can't believe he just blurted out our plans.

"Shush you idiot, do you want to be caught and tried for treason?" I mutter furiously. Courf has the decency to look apologetic.

"But still, Enjy-"

"Don't call me that!" I interrupt. "It's Enjolras. Come on Courf, say it with me: Enjolras," I say my last name, stressing each and every syllable as Courf says it with me, rolling his eyes all the while.

"Fine. Enjolras, you can't deny that you're head over heels in love with her. You have to tell her."

"I just can't," I say quietly, looking up at Courf with panicked cerulean eyes. "You know how dangerous this plan of ours is. We could die. I don't want her to have to mourn me if I fall."

'Ferre sighs and stares into my eyes, hazel meeting blue. "Enjolras. You still have to tell her. Keeping secrets from her will do you no good." I sigh and look down at my black shoes on the marble floor.

"I have to get out of here," I say abruptly, pushing myself off of the pillar. "I can't be in this palace. Correction: I can't be in this palace with her." Combeferre forces Courfeyrac to wrap his arm around Ferre's shoulders so that Courf doesn't fall flat on his face. The five of us make our way out of the palace and into a carriage. I stare out the window morosely, thinking about Marie and the revolution. I can't be in love... can I?

Marie's POV:

Finally, the ball is over. Lizette, Renee, and I meet each other on the same exact balcony Julien and I were at not three hours ago. Lizette and Renee look at each other, at me, and then back at each other.

"Something's up, Marie. Tell us," Renee begs.

"No," I refuse.

"Come on," Lizette whines, breaking my resolve to keep Julien a secret from my sisters.

"I met someone at the ball today," I whisper under my breath, keeping hushed so that Mother or Father don't hear. "A man." Lizette and Renee 'ooh,' excited that I've finally 'found love.'

"What's he like?" Renee asks happily. I stare out at the gardens that are shadowed in darkness, the only light coming from the moon shining high in the sky and the stars, thinking about Julien.

"He's taller than I am, about four inches taller. His hair is a deep, rich golden-blonde, the curls stopping near the nape of his neck. His cerulean eyes pierce into my sapphire, as if I'm the only woman worth looking at."

"You are in love, dear sister," Lizette asserts.

"I can't be. I'm supposed to marry the king of England!!" I sigh and roll my eyes. "Of course I fall in love with someone when I'm already promised to someone else." Mother appears at the balcony's doors, staring at us emotionless.

"Marie, your father and I wish to speak with you," she says formally. Mother is never not formal.

"Yes Mother," I say quietly. I walk with Mother to where my father is, in his throne room as usual. He's always there, working on another bill or law that would cause the social class gap between the citizens of France to skyrocket even more than it already has. I bite my lower lip, nervous at what Mother and Father want to speak to me about. We enter the throne room and I stand in front of Father's throne.

"Marie, your mother and I have decided, through correspondence with King George the Fourth of England, that you will be married to this king on your twenty-first birthday and will be crowned Queen of England that same day." I gasp.

"Father, how old is this king?" I question cautiously.

"61 years old," Father responds. I almost gag. That's disgusting. I'm twenty, and this man that I'm supposed to marry is a little more than three times my age.

"I'm only 20!!" I refuse frustratedly.

"There will be no if's, and's, or but's," Mother demands. I shake my head, slowly at first but then growing in courage.

"No. I will not be made a pawn to further your power!!" I scream at my father.

"Marie, you will marry him."

"No. I will never." I don't see my mother come over, don't see her hand pulling back. My head whips to the side, my mother's slap forcing it away. My pale cheek is already turning red from my mother's force. I stare at her in shock.

"You will be marrying him, whether you like it or not," Mother says prissily and poshly. I roll my eyes.

"Me, the wife of that boorish, brainless . . .

Queen George the Fourth!
Can't you just see it?
Queen George the Fourth!
His "little wife", ughh!
No sir! Not me! I guarantee it!
I want much more than this loveless life!
I want adventure in the great wide somewhere
I want it more than I can tell
And for once it might be grand
To have someone understand
I want so much more than they've got planned

I want adventure in the great wide somewhere,
I want it more than they can tell....."

Tears welling in my eyes, I turn around and run out of the throne room, wiping the falling tears with the sleeve of my gown. I sprint all the way up to my chambers and get out of the dress, putting on one of the simplest dresses I have. Where am I going to go? Where did Julien say I could find him? Café Musain? I need to go there; I can't take it here. I pen a note to Lizette and Renee, telling them where I would be.

My dearest sisters,

I can't stay here anymore. Father and Mother are trying to force me to marry someone who is more than three times my age just so they are furthered in their political gain!! I'm going to find the man I was telling you about before. Please don't worry about me and don't show Mother and Father this letter. Burn it in the fire after you read it. I love you both and would never want to leave you.

Your loving sister,

Marie

I set the letter on my feather bed and hurry down to the stables, finding my beautiful bay mare, Empress. I lightly stroke her soft, velvet nose and hurriedly grab a saddle to put on her. It's not a side-saddle as much as my mother would like it to be.

I stand on a loose board on the wall and vault onto my horse's back, leaning over her side and unlocking the door. I nudge her forward and we canter off out of the palace. To freedom. To Julien. To love.

Empress picks up her speed until she's galloping through the streets of Paris, me leaning over her neck in a crouch. Five minutes later, Empress and I arrive in Saint Michelle. I pull Empress back to a walk and we slowly make our way through the cobblestoned streets, clip-clops following us from her hooves on the smooth stone. I look at every store until I finally see it. It's two stories, the faded paint spelling out Café Musain in chipped, peeling letters. I sigh in relief. The building is tilted, as if it's going to collapse any second. I dismount Empress and lead her into an alleyway so that she's out of sight and nobody would steal her. I kiss her smooth nose and leave the alleyway, opening the door to the cafe. I see a middle-aged woman standing there cleaning tables with a rag.

"Bonjour madame," I say softly. She looks up at me and I look away, nervous that she recognized me as the princess.

"Bonjour," she says suspiciously.

"Do you know anyone here that goes by the name Julien?" I say desperately. "He told me that I could find him here and I just ran away and I have nowhere to go-"

The woman cuts off my rambling. "Yes, there is a man whose name is Julien, but he normally uses Enjolras instead. I'm Madame Houcheloup. And you are?"

"I'm Marie," I say politely, smiling at the woman.

"Well, Enjolras is up those stairs," she says, pointing at the staircase leading up to the second floor. "Good luck."

"Thank you so much, madame!!" I gush. I go up the staircase and finally reach the door. I pull it open carefully and step inside. In the room, I see five men. Well, four conscious men and one passed out man. The room has two French flags and one map of France. There are pieces of paper and books everywhere. I see Julien standing near a table, peering down at.... something and occasionally saying something to a blonde man with glasses at his right. The dirty blonde haired man looks up, sees me, and nudges Julien.

"Enjolras, look up." Julien does so, confused, and his blue eyes lock with mine. His jaw drops and he walks briskly over to me.

"Marie, what are you doing here?" he whispers quickly. As I stare up at him, I realize exactly what I have done by running away. I burst into tears. Julien's eyes widen and he stares at me sobbing, having no clue what to do. I feel his arms hesitatingly wrap around me, pulling me closer and rocking me back and forth. I cling to him, his red suit being discarded in favor of a scarlet waistcoat, a white undershirt, black pants, and black boots. My tears soak his white shirt, drenching it and making it stick to his torso, showing his very defined chest and ab muscles. His hand soothingly rubs my back as his other hand wraps around my waist. He leads me carefully over to an abandoned table, him gently pushing me into a chair and sitting next to me. "What happened?"

"My parents... they told me that I'd have to get married to the King of England on my twenty-first birthday," I admit in a whisper, shuddering. "He's 61 years old." Julien's face is drawn in an expression of disgust at my future husband's age. "I ran away. I couldn't take it anymore!!" Julien's finger touches my chin softly, lifting it up so that I could look in his eyes. They're filled with sympathy and another emotion, one I can't put my finger on.

"You'll be alright," he reassures.

"Sorry to interrupt this," the other man says quietly, "but Courf's waking up." Julien rolls his eyes and goes over to the passed out man. Well, the man that was passed out and is now blearily rubbing his eyes.

"Got your beauty sleep then, Courfeyrac?" Julien says lightly and teasingly.

"I'm never drinking alcohol again," the man that's name is apparently Courfeyrac moans. The dirty-blonde haired man rolls his eyes.

"That's what you said the time before. And the time before that. And the time before-"

"Alright 'Ferre I see your point!!" Courfeyrac exclaims and promptly winces. "Ouch," he mutters.

Julien turns to me. "Marie, this is Courfeyrac. He's normally a lot more social." Courfeyrac's head snaps up to look at me, irritating his headache more.

"Marie??? OW MOTHER-" Courfeyrac starts to swear, but the other man, apparently 'Ferre, interrupts him.

"You nitwit, there's a lady present!! More specifically, she's the princess of France. Get your act together!" 'Ferre rebukes sharply. I stand there awkwardly, waiting for his lecture to end.

"Hello, I'm Courfeyrac," the man says, his dark brown curls flopping limply in front of his eyes. He pushes them back. "And you're Enjy's girl, aren't you?" Julien rolls his eyes.

"How many times, Courf, must you call me that?" he gripes.

"Not nearly enough!!" I hide my laughter with a cough that sounds fake, even to me.

"I'm Marie, although I'm pretty sure you know that from your reaction when Julien introduced me." Courf and 'Ferre stare astounded at Julien. "What?"

"You gave her your first name?" 'Ferre says, voice bordering on disbelief and hysteria. "Your first name, the one that we had to hear from your parents because you didn't want to tell us??" Julien rolls his eyes once more.

"She's a lot prettier than you two maniacs," Julien retorts. I blush, cheeks stained a light pink. "Marie, this is Combeferre." The man that was called 'Ferre by both Julien and Courfeyrac, but whose name is actually Combeferre, waves at me. I smile back a little uncertainly. 

"Hello," I say politely.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle," Combeferre responds back.

I push my blonde hair out of my face, unknowingly exposing the slap mark on my cheek. Julien sees it immediately, eyes narrowing. "Marie what is that?" he says concernedly, hand going up to lightly touch the red bruise. "Ferre, can you help?" Julien addresses Combeferre and then turns back to me, whispering softly. "He's a medical student; he'll be able to help you." I nod my head slowly and Combeferre steps over to me, examining the bruise on my cheek. Julien steps back and starts pacing the room nervously, drawing the attention of the other two men in the room who were playing écarté with a deck of cards. One of the men has light brown hair that is ruffled up at the front and the other man has dark brown hair that is straight and a handkerchief in his suit pocket.

"Enjolras," Combeferre calls, "you probably don't want to hear this." Julien's head snaps over to Combeferre, looking at him incredulously.

"I don't care, 'Ferre!!" Julien exclaims. "What happened to Marie?" he says softly yet dangerously. Combeferre sighs.

"The mark on her cheek looks like she was slapped. Hard." Julien stares at Combeferre in disbelief and then he looks at me, eyes dark with anger.

"Who did this to you?" he says, furious. I bite my lower lip and stare into his cerulean eyes, anger roiling the deep blue.

"I refused to marry the king," I start shakily, voice quiet. "My mother slapped me." Julien grows even angrier, which is something I never thought would be possible.

"I'm going to murder her," he says, voice shaking in his fury. I shake my head desperately.

"No! Please don't, you'll be executed!" I beg Julien to see reason.

"She hurt you," he whispers softly. "Nobody should hurt you."

"YOUR DEATH WOULD HURT ME!!" I scream, clapping my hand over my mouth a second after. The other men in the corner stare at me in shock, probably due to my outburst. Courfeyrac and Combeferre seem to be smirking at each other as if they know something we don't. I wonder what that is. Julien looks at me in a stunned silence, jaw hanging open. Julien takes my hand and pulls me into a small closet near the map of France. He closes the door behind us and turns to me, running his hands through his blonde curls. "What are we doing in here?" I whisper harshly under my breath as I try to increase the space between us. It doesn't work. I'm staring at his chest, which is less than two inches away from me. I can feel his breath a few inches above me as he stares down. I look up into his eyes, blue locking with blue.

"Why would my hypothetical death hurt you?" he asks me quietly but with a sense of urgency with it. I stare up at him, confused. Why does this question matter?

"Why do you think nobody should hurt me?" I retort, making Julien roll his eyes.

"I asked you first."

"So? And I asked you second."

"Marie..." he sighs, "please just answer my question?" I stay silent for a second, nervous about being in this close proximity to Julien.

"I've never met anyone like you before," I start slowly. "You're different than all of the other stuck-up bourgeois, even though you are one." I bite my lower lip, thinking about telling Julien my feelings. I guess I will. I take a deep breath, preparing to tell the truth. "I like you," I blurt out, albeit quietly so that the men spying on us from outside of the closet don't hear. They already seem like people who would do that. He stares at me, bewildered.

"I like you too," he says, eyebrow raised confusedly. "And?" I sigh. I thought he'd have gotten my insinuation by now.

"I like you. As in, romantically. I think I'm in love with you," I admit, looking down at the floor in embarrassment. I glance up at Julien quickly, seeing his gobsmacked face as he gapes at me. "Never mind," I quickly backtrack. "Why do you think nobody should hurt me?" He sighs and looks down at me from his towering height over me.

"Ever since I saw you coming down that archway, even more so once I truly met you at that balcony, you've been in my head. I've been thinking about you nonstop. When you told me that you're supposed to be getting married to some old creep, I wanted to punch something. Preferably, that idiot straight in the nose." He chews on his lower lip, nervous about something. "What I'm trying to say is.... is.. I think I'm in love with you too." 

I stare wide-eyed at him and his gaze darts down to my lips for a split second and then returns back to my eyes. He leans closer to me, bending his head so that his lips could reach mine. His lips are a centimetre away from mine and my breath hitches. I close the gap between us, pressing my lips onto his cautiously and softly. The kiss tastes magical; I don't have the words to describe it. There's something sweet, almost like honey or chocolate, and something else that I can't quite put my finger on. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him until I'm standing flush against him. His lips captivate me, drawing me closer and addicting me. My heart skips a beat as my fingers intertwine themselves in his thick, curly blonde hair as his lips plunder my own. He steps forward and lightly pushes me into one of the walls, me being sandwiched between his solid frame and the hard wall. The kiss has stopped time for me; we could have been lip-locked for a second, a minute, three minutes, six minutes, an hour. As we kiss, his body dwarfing mine, Julien growls deep in his throat. The kiss is possessive yet trusting, scorching yet tender, fiery yet sensual. We part for air, taking great gaspfuls of oxygen.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" Julien whispers to me.

"Yes, Julien," I breathe out quietly. "What are you doing here, by the way? I've seen French flags and a map of France, but I have no clue what they're for." He sighs and ponders for a minute, probably thinking about whether to tell me or not.

"Don't freak out, Marie, but the five of us here, along with five others, are planning a revolution," he whispers quietly. A revolution?!?!?! My eyes widen in shock. "Oh no you're freaking out." Julien looks so nervous.

"I'm not freaking out," I tell him. "I somewhat support this. I just hope you stay safe and don't get killed. Just, promise me this revolution won't harm my sisters," I say, looking up at him pleadingly.

"I promise, Marie, that your sisters will not get hurt from our revolution. I can't promise that I'll stay safe, as I'm the leader of the revolution, but I will try." He's the LEADER???

"Julien, this revolution scares me. I don't want you to get hurt." He wraps me in a hug, chin resting on the top of my head.

"We'll have to introduce you to the rest of Les Amis de l'ABC." I look up at him, eyebrow raised.

"Les Amis de l'ABC? 'The Friends of the Abaisse?'" I question, laughing.

"Yes," he says, chuckling as well. "I came up with it." As I laugh, my brain starts thinking about my parents. I can't stay here forever!! What will they say when they find out I'm dating Julien? "Marie, are you okay?"

"Yes," I say quietly yet nervously.

"No you aren't," he denies, shaking his head. "Tell me."

"Where will I go? I ran away; I can't go back to the palace. Also, I'm promised to someone else!!" I say, every problem I currently have following one after the other. Julien listens intently and then grabs my hand.

"Marie, you will be okay. You won't have to go back to the palace. Courfeyrac, Combeferre, or I would take care of you and keep you safe from your parents. And honestly, do you really want to marry that sixty-year-old king?" He holds my hand in both of his, my petite hand being completely covered by his. Julien lifts my hand up to his mouth and kisses it softly, staring at me with eyes filled with love.

"No, I don't want to marry him. Why would I?? Thank you, Julien. But, I need to keep you safe. If my parents find out we're together, they'd put you in prison, or worse, put you to the guillotine." Julien sighs but nods his head.

"As much as I want to shout out the window that I'm 'courting' you," he says 'courting' in an annoyed tone because he seems to hate the bourgeois. A lot. "I understand. We'll keep our relationship secret. It might help if it was secret from everyone because then we'll be used to hiding it. You probably should call me Enjolras if we want to hide it for a while." We smile at each other and he leans in, quickly kissing me and then pulling away, smirking devilishly at me. He opens the door to the closet and I see Courfeyrac standing there, trying to be inconspicuous. It doesn't work.

"So what were you guys doing in there?" Courf says, winking. I didn't think this far ahead. Apparently Julien did, as he starts explaining things that we did in that closet, but not everything.

"We came to an understanding and I told her about the revolution," Julien responds blasé.

"You told her about the revolution??" Courfeyrac repeats in awe.

"Did I stutter?" Julien retorts, annoyed.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I'm right here, you know," I but in, defending myself. "I won't tell anyone about your plan. Actually, I want in." Courf stares at me wide-eyed.

"No," Julien refuses. I cross my arms and glare at him.

"Excuse me?"

"You are not becoming a revolutionary."

"I think I will. Don't tell me what to do. I already deal with way too much of that at the palace," I say sourly, making Combeferre start to laugh.

"I like this one, Enj. Let her in Les Amis de l'ABC." Julien sighs long-sufferingly and finally nods his head.

"Fine. Welcome to Les Amis de l'ABC, Marie," he says, spreading his arm out. "Well, those that are here, that is." He leads me over to the two other men that I have yet to meet, hand possessively on the small of my back. It's not a good start to hiding our relationship, but the only thing I can think of is the warmth of his fingers splayed out across my lower back. "Marius, Joly, this is the newest member of Les Amis, Marie. Marie, these two are Marius Pontmercy and-" he looks questioningly at the other man, who shrugs and nods his head. "Alain Joly." I smile at both of them and shake their hands, Joly immediately wiping off his hand with a handkerchief.

"I'm sorry, mademoiselle, but you can never be too careful with pathogens and germs."

"Too true, monsieur, too true." Julien walks back over to Combeferre and they discuss what I now know as plans for the revolution. I meander over to them and look at a map of France, tracing the streets on the paper with my finger delicately. "Father's not going to be at the palace in a week, on June 24th. He's going to be in England, planning for my wedding." I shudder in disgust and Julien steps up behind me.

"What are you saying?" Julien questions.

"You could make a rally outside of the palace," I say quickly. "There won't be that many guards because most would be in England." I turn around and see Julien's eyes bearing into mine a few inches away from me. I swallow hard and then walk over to one of the tables near the window, looking down at the alleyway where I left Empress. She's still there. "Enjolras," I call, Julien walking over to me.

"Yes, Marie?"

"I rode a horse to get here. Is there any place where she could stay?" Julien looks out the window thoughtfully.

"I think there is a place somewhere. Come on, I'm taking you to my apartment. There's a small stable there" He takes my hand and, after turning to Courfeyrac and Combeferre, says, "I'm taking Marie to my flat." We walk out of the cafe hand-in-hand, going towards the alleyway where Empress is. I grab her reins and lead her out of the alleyway and follow Julien to his house. We finally reach the small flat and I quickly walk into the stable and put Empress in one of the stalls there, taking off her saddle and bridle and giving her something to eat. Julien and I enter his apartment and he leads me into his room, where revolutionary pamphlets, random pieces of paper, and books are scattered around. "I'm going to sleep on the couch, Marie. You can take my bed. I'm not taking no for an answer," he says, lightly pushing me down onto the soft bed. I sigh and consent to the sleeping arrangement, finally finding a long white shirt of Julien's that looks more like a dress on me. I change into that once Julien left the room and collapse on the bed, falling asleep the instant my head hits the pillow.

Author's Note: OH MY GOD THIS CHAPTER IS OVER 4,000 WORDS!!!! I hope you guys enjoyed and laughed at some parts! This is the end of Act 2; the next Act will have their relationship being revealed by Courf because he is very nosy. Vive la France!!

            -Kaylin