Enj Is Probably Saving Puppies (decidewhoweare) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2012-06-27 19:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | belle, enjolras |
Who: Enjolras and Belle
What: The revolution leader gets saved by a princess-to-be
When: Early Thursday morning
Where: The park. I'm good with the park.
Warnings: I don't see any major ones?
Dawn was breaking. It would've been a beautiful sight if it weren't for the knowledge that they were poorly outnumbered and likely wouldn't live to see another sunrise. It was heartbreaking, really. They'd fought so hard. These men who'd stood beside him, these men who'd gone into battle knowing that there was a chance they would fall. And they would, wouldn't they? It was a fact he had to accept. Accepting that fact made it easier. He'd face death with his head held high, knowing he'd done what he needed to do. Maybe they'd lose the battle. Maybe the other groups, the other revolutionaries in the city would, too. But their message was out. And that was what mattered the most. His mother would mourn, his sisters might, too. But he'd die knowing he'd leave a mark on the world that would give them hope for a better future. He'd sent the women home, the men with children to return to, and the rest...the rest, he sent up a quick prayer for. This was it. They'd made their choices.
As the gunshots rang out, he took a breath and gave the call. "Fire!" he commanded, and the men left standing with him began to fight. For France. For a France he was proud to call home.
He heard the gunfire near his head before he actually felt it. So many fallen around him, so many of his close friends dead or bleeding to death. It wouldn't be long and he already knew it, so when he heard the shot fire, he braced himself for impact. It was going to hurt, but he'd known that for a long time. That wasn't a surprise. This was how he was meant to die. Bravely and with honor and knowing he'd done what he needed to.
But the shot never came. Or, rather, it never hit. He was still standing there, eyes closed, when he heard voices around him speaking English. A couple of his friends spoke English, they'd learned in their lessons. But Enjolras was one of the few he knew who really enjoyed the language. England had the right idea on running a country. And America...now they knew how to do a revolution.
But the real question was...why was there English being spoken? And where had the gunfire gone? Was it over?
He opened his eyes and peered around. And found himself a little lightheaded and leaning against a tree for support. There hadn't been a tree there before. Or grass. Or...any of this, actually. Where the hell was he?