Les Couleurs du Monde (An Enjolras Les Misérables Fanfiction)

Chapter XX ~ Her Grief and Her Salvation

You, the reader, must now be thinking

Wait. Wasn't Elise killed?

The answer is no. Recall that the soldier was indeed Elise's cousin. He knew Elise and did care about her. He had known her since they were children. He did not necessarily want to kill his relative. So he mercifully knocked her out, making the other soldiers think she was dead.

And so Elise was alive. And pregnant, which really doesn't need any explanation.

Elise wanted to end her life then and there but she just couldn't. If she ended her life it would kill the child also, which was unforgivable. She couldn't kill Enjolras' child.

And so, Elise miserably continued on with her life, living with Lisette. The Rousseau home was known as the Home of the Two Widows. Every day after the fall of the barricade, she arose in the mornings, intent on making it through one more day. An every night she weeped as she went to bed, gazing longingly at the empty spot next to her in bed. She covered her depression up with a weak smile whenever Lisette would try to comfort her, but nothing would fix what had happened. All of the happiness had been drained from her life along with her hopes, beliefs, dreams, friends, and husband. She had paid for each of their graves herself, and visited them every day. She even felt sad that her father had died; she had never told him how much he meant to her regardless of their differences. She always wore dark colors, forever in mourning. The heart may be weak, and sometimes it may even feel dead. But Elise had learned that deep down there's a light that never goes out.

The light in her life was her child.

Elise may have been shattered inside, but when her son was born, it was as if the pieces were realigned.

Seeing Enjolras' child grow was the only thing that could cause her to have a genuine smile. He saved her from her depression. He was a spitting image of Enjolras, but instead of dazzling blue eyes, he had warm hazel ones. The sweet child was named Francis. He had the same charm that little Gavroche had, but he was kinder and always looked up to his mother.

Francis had turned five. He ran into his mother's room and jumped into the bed, landing next to her, and shaking her.

"Maman! Maman! Wake up!" he squealed.

Elise opened her eyes, a soft smile on her llips "Yes, chérie?"

"Can we go walk again today?" Francis asked energetically.

"Of course we can, Francis," Elise said, kissing him on the forehead and then getting up to get ready to go outside.

They always walked hand in hand along the same route. Past the Notre Dame, past the Opera House, past what used to be the Musain. Francis never knew the importance of these locations and he never asked his mother about them; she always had a pensive expression on her face when they walked past those places as she lived in her past, imagining things the way they were before the horrible events.

The sunlight shone down onto the Parisian streets as Elise pulled her son along. Francis happily skipped after her. She would stop by a stall and buy two sweets: one for little Francis and one for the first little street urchin she could find.

Eventually the two had reached a grassy area that had stones neatly placed in it. Francis ran off to play, chasing little squirrels and following the ant trails.

Elise sat down on the grass, looking at a specific stone. "Hey, Enjolras. How's it going?" Something inside of her knew he was listening. "I know I've talked to you every single day since you left." A tear trickled down Elise's face as she gently rested her hand over the stone. It read Enjolras, beloved husband, loving father, and admired revolutionary.

Elise suddenly burst into tears. "I wish you were still here. I wish I was with you. But guess what? Our son grows with every passing day. And he's looking more and more like you. If only you could see him." Elise wiped her tears and laid down a fresh lily on the ground.

"Maman!" Francis called. "I was lookin' for you. The ants led me far away from you. He looked at Elise before glancing down at the tombstone, asking something he was always too nervous to ask before. "Maman, why do you alway talk to that rock?"

Elise looked over at Francis, trying to seem happy. "You see, Francis, something happened a long time ago to your papa before I found you."

Francis looked intently at her, tilting his head curiously.

"Now he lives up there in the sky with God and the angels. Tonight we're going to look up at the sky together, okay? We're going to find the brightest star of all. That's your papa. And this stone is the best way to talk to him, since he can't come down to visit us here, we need to speak to this stone so he can hear us."

Francis looked in awe at the tombstones. "Then why do you also talk to the other stones around him?" he asked innocently.

Elise looked sadly around at the other stones. "They're my friends. They need me, and I need them too. They're all the bright stars around your papa. They always stay with him. There was Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Feuilly, Joly, Jehan, Bahorel, Lesgle, and Grantaire. There's also my best friend, Éponine there. and a little boy who stayed not much older than you name Gavroche. You two would have been great friends." Elise smiled. "Come on," Elise said, taking Francis' hand gently. "It's time for mass."