Did anybody watch 'Vikings' on Sunday? Ohgosh; it was good! And great ole' put up the second episode so I got to see Georgey-porgey be a monk!

Disclaimer: I still own nothin'.

Epilogue

Alfred turned six the day Enjolras finally lived up to his promise. The boy looked so much like himself it made him nervous. Enjolras never really got over everything that happened to him in his prime. The barricades, his friends' deaths, Eponine; it all stayed with him, overhanging him like a cloud. But Alfred was the ray of sunshine that pushed the cloud away every morning, and when he went to bed, the cloud returned. But Enjolras knew that he was content in the way he lived now.

He'd taken Eponine's advice and gotten a teaching job at the local school. Many more young families had moved in during the first summer of Enjolras' new life and Cote du Rhone had to open its first school there in the valley. Around forty children now attended and Enjolras wasn't the only teacher anymore. He himself taught the older children; there were maybe ten of them, all ranging from age twelve to eighteen. He prided himself in his students. They were bright and imaginative and they wanted to learn. Some days, Enjolras would simply lecture about whatever topic came to mind, and other days he actually stuck to the lesson plan. On special days- the students' favorite days- Enjolras would tell them stories and give them speeches. He would give them the speeches that he once gave to the poor of Paris and he would tell them the stories of his days at the ABC Café. He never alluded to the fact that he was the man who lead the others into the battle, or that the woman who had saved the leader was in fact Eponine; on purpose, the left names out and allowed the children to make their own interpretation.

Much to everyone's surprise, Grantaire got married the day after Alfred's fourth birthday. He's kept everything about the woman a secret; no one suspected anything. That morning he'd just up and said it was his wedding day and everyone was invited.

Enjolras cried at the wedding.

Her name was Annabella Rault and she was from Nice, working as a book-seller for her aunt. According to Grantaire, for him at least, it was love at first sight. Now, two years later, Annabella was expecting their first child. Because of his marriage, Grantaire had moved out of the cottage on the Bergerons' land; it's wasn't like the set up worked, anyway. Enjolras and Grantaire constantly bickered and drove each other insane. He now lived in town, two miles walk from the cottage, and ran the book shop along with Annabella.

Enjolras would be lying to himself if he said he didn't miss Grantaire; the house felt extremely empty. Something never changed, but somethings needed to change.

Alfred rolled out of bed with a squeal. He pushed his blond hair out of his eyes and rushed down the stairs, whooping with delight. Enjolras was sitting at the table, trying to grade his students' papers, but not getting anywhere with all the racket. He put his pen down and turned to face his son.

"Alfred," he said calmly. The child stopped running in circles.

"Yes, Aba?"

Enjolras sighed. Victoria, the nurse maid who had left two years earlier, had attempted to get Alfred to say 'Papa' but it came out 'Aba' and stuck. He hated it and loved it all the same. "Why are you in such a tizzy?"

Alfred giggled and held his mouth. "It's a secret," he whispered.

"Oh! Is it now." Enjolras leaned back in his chair, one arm over the back, his legs crossed. "Can't I know what the secret is, fil?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be much of a secret, Aba!" Alfred put his hands on his hips and frowned.

Enjolras narrowed his eyes. "This wouldn't deal with you birthday, would it?"

Alfred fell into a fit of giggles and ran to throw his arms around Enjolras' neck. "This is my favorite day!" he yelled.

Enjolras set Alfred on his knee. "Not so loud, son! My ear!"

Alfred blushed. "I'm sorry."

Enjolras sighed again; Grantaire and Annabella and the Bergerons would be over any moment for the small celebration they had every year. "Well, what would you like for this birthday?" he raised a glass of water to his lips.

Alfred, without hesitation, said, "A mama, Aba."

Enjolras dropped his cup on his lap; he didn't move to clean it up and neither did Alfred flinch. He just stared at him with his big eyes and repeated his wish once more. Enjolras gulped.

"A mama?" he whispered.

"Oui. Jehan-Luc said his mama always tucks him in at night and tells him stories and makes the best dinners. I think I'd like that this year, Aba."

Enjolras felt tears in his eyes. "Well, I.. I-" he cut himself off. No topic of mothers had every arisen in his home before. Enjolras didn't know what to do.

"Where is my mama, Aba? Why don't I have one, too?" there were the beginnings of tears in Alfred's eyes as well.

"Alfred, son, your mama.. She.. She isn't here anymore. She-"

"Why?"

Enjolras held up his hand. "She had to go." he sniffed. "The day you were born, your mother had to leave. There's no use sugar-coating it, I guess. You'll find out one day. But, Alfred, your mother passed away."

Alfred just nodded.

"But she loved you- still loves you very, very much!"

"Why'd she have to go?"

"She was sick."

"Oh."

The room was silent.

"Aba?"

"What?"

"Don't you want a mama, too?"

Enjolras laughed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, other kids have papas and their papas had these things called.. wives. I think those are what mamas are, too. So, don't you want a mama for yourself?"

Enjolras nearly blushed. To be honest, he did have some what of a special someone. Her name was Ruby Walker, an English woman teaching at the school. They'd been on more than several outings together.. and.. well, Enjolras did feel the slightest of something for her. He told himself not to pursue it because of Eponine and it wouldn't be professional. "I suppose, son."

"Then get one!" Alfred tried to stomp his foot, but his Enjolras' shin instead. The man groaned.

"It's a lot more complicated than that, Alfred!"

Alfred sighed. "I don't mind how long it takes. I just want a mama, too."

Enjolras brushed his finger across Alfred's red cheek. "Maybe one day, son."

Alfred slid off his father's knee. "I'm going outside to play, Aba."

"All right, but be careful! Remember what happened last time!" Enjolras called to his son as he ran out the back door.

Enjolras leaned against the wall. "A wife, Eponine?" he whispered. "I couldn't do that to you."

Deep down inside of him, Enjolras felt a stirring. It said: Go on, dear. It's time to move on. I'll be here, waiting, like I promised.

Enjolras bit his finger and smiled. Maybe it was time. Maybe it was time to talk to Ruby, actually talk about his feelings for her. Maybe it was time to move on. She would want that. His smile grew. Enjolras knew what it was certainly time for. He rushed outside and found Alfred underneath a tree.

Alfred looked up from the sticks he was playing with. "Aba?"

Enjolras sat down in front of his son. "I have a story to tell you, Alfred. It's about me, and your Uncle R, a man named Javert, another man named ValJean, some bread, the greatest group of men in the world, but best of all, it's a story about your mother.."

Well, it's done, it's over, and I'm extremely sad. Thank you to every single person who had anything to do with this fic! asdfjkl; I love you all so much.

~ Jessie

(This is annoying, and I don't want it to happen really, but I kinda feel a sequel comin' on. The bunnies are plotting within my head, and it's annoying. Let me know if you'd be interested in one. If I get a whole bunch-o people who say they are, then I might write a sequel, but it'll be awhile because I'm working on 'The Bullets' now. No promises)