They were nine years old and he was using a stick of wood he'd found in the street to fend off invisible enemies, grunting as he thrust his make-believe sword into his enemy's gut.

She was sitting with her back against the wall, watching him fondly. She seldom spoke during these moments, in fear of breaking his concentration. And his concentration was something she admired.

Little did she know that he wasn't concentrating on his game at all. But rather – he was concentrating on her. He'd noticed the bruise on her cheek, and the one on her arm from last week. He had stopped commenting on them long ago; her response had always been, "I don't know – I fell," and then she'd cover them up and get really quiet for the rest of the afternoon.

But the wounds were becoming bigger, more frequent. He couldn't stand it any longer. And as his last enemy fell, he straightened, stuck the word through his waistband, and swiveled to look at her.

"'Ponine," He said, startling her. He waited a moment for her to readjust before he continued. "You've got another bruise on your face."

Her eyes widened and her voice came out squeaky and soft, extremely unlike her. "Um – I fell. While I was doing chores yesterday. My father always says that I'm – "

"Eponine," He said impatiently, tacking on the extra syllable, "I'm not stupid." Another pause ensued before he sucked in his breath and said, "Your father's a terrible man."

Eponine dropped her eyes and then daringly glanced back at him. He was still staring at her, daring her to admit the truth.

"It isn't my fault." She whimpered finally. "I don't know what makes him so angry. And sometimes I…" She paused, wondering if she should tell him about this. She'd kept it a secret for so long. But something about sitting in this alleyway with nobody else but Marius felt so right. So she closed her eyes and leaned back, felt the brick wall behind her, and let the words spill out. "Sometimes I dream about a man who comes and takes me away. He's handsome and my father is upset to see me go, but I don't mind. I'm…free." Just like Cosette.

Marius stood in his spot, an odd feeling he'd never felt before striking in his stomach. Something about the way she spoke about it, looking so…so…

He sighed, unable to find an adequate word. But he quickly composed himself and said, "So run away. You don't need to wait for your savior, you know. Just…leave."

The silence that followed was one filled with wonder and curiosity. The two spoke at the same time.

"But – "

"And I – "

Eponine froze, then smiled. "You go first."

Marius smiled back – that crooked smile she'd grown to love. "And I would come with you."

"You would?" Eponine blurted, stunned.

"Of course I would." Marius said, drawing his sword again. "You're my best friend. I couldn't let you go alone."

She smiled again. Even then, as he dove back into his game, she knew that it was only a daydream and when the sun began to set, she'd have to run home before her father awoke and noticed she was gone.

/

Fourteen now, Eponine ran, her skirts flying around her. She knew how awfully late she was and she knew how upset Marius would be if he thought she'd left him there.

But as she rounded the corner into their alleyway, beginning to skid to a stop, she ran straight into him, knocking them both onto the ground. She let out a squeal, he a grunt.

She opened her eyes and instantly saw his breathtaking ones staring back into hers, the smirk in them evident. She was on top of him and they were nose to nose. She stopped breathing.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming." He said in a whisper, laughing slightly.

Panic lurching in her stomach, Eponine scrambled off of him and sat on the ground, panting to catch her breath – but whether it was gone because of how fast she'd been running or close to his face she'd just been, she didn't know.

"What took you so long?" Marius asked, sitting up. He was still smirking.

She didn't answer right away. But her hand instinctively flew to her shoulder and Marius's smirk vanished, immediately replaced with a sort of alarm.

"He didn't." He whispered. He grabbed her more harshly than he intended to, but he didn't notice her wince. Without waiting for any sort of consent, he slipped her sleeve down, leaving her shoulder and the fresh bruise there bare. He gasped involuntarily.

"Marius," She said desperately, yanking herself away from him. "Don't be too upset about it. It's nothing, really."

"Nothing?" He repeated. "Eponine, you told me he didn't beat you anymore."

She dropped her eyes. She had told him that years ago to stop him from worrying about it so much.

That simple drop of eyes gave it all away to Marius. He turned away from her and began to pace back and forth, muttering to himself.

"Marius," She pleaded. "If you'd listen to me, you'd understand. I'm fine, I really am."

"Run away!" He burst out suddenly, whirling to face her. His eyes were on fire, like they always were whenever he got excited about something. "Eponine, that's our answer. You can run away. We're much older now, we'd do fine out there. It's just like in your dream."

"We?" She repeated, her heart fluttering. He'd remembered her dream?

"I've got some of my own money saved up, it'd be enough to get us away from here. Away from your family, away from mine. It'd just be you and me."

"And then what?" She asked dejectedly, but she was smiling. "We'd run out of money and we'd starve. You know it's a bad idea."

His crestfallen look was enough to break her heart, but she'd never let the possibility of hurting his feelings stop her from telling the truth. "You're right." He said. "It was a stupid idea." He turned from her and kicked a rock. It skidded and bounced off the wall, and they both stared at it when it was finally still. Marius's voice filled up the small space with a haunting sadness.

"I just worry about you so much, 'Ponine," He said. She couldn't see his face, but oh, how she wished she could. "You don't deserve that. You deserve the world, and I just wish…" His voice caught and he stopped. Tears springing to her eyes, Eponine leapt up and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back. The simple touch, the simple squeeze – it was almost enough to say everything he couldn't. The only thing he could think of to tell her exactly what he wished for was to press his lips against her temple. She stiffened again and he pulled away, only to kiss her again.

The second time, she relaxed into him and he held her more tightly than before.

Neither of them said any more words after that, and neither of them could tell you how long they stood like that before they finally had to part.

/

At nineteen, Eponine was a woman now, more beautiful than she ever had been. And that was a fact that Marius often had to admit reluctantly. For as long as he could remember, she had been his 'Ponine. But before long, she'd be courted and married and his 'Ponine no more. If he called her that, he'd probably get the wrath of the bloke who had gotten her father's approval.

And the way Marius saw it, the approval all those suitors should be seeking was his, not Thenardier's. What had Thenardier been to Eponine, other than a tormentor? Certainly not a father! Marius's blood went boiling every time he thought about it.

He sat in bed, unable to sleep, and went through each suitor in his mind, picking them apart and finding one reason or another he would tell Eponine they weren't good enough for her. Sometimes he had to dig deep and find a rather invalid reason – like the boy's nose was crooked, so their children wouldn't be as attractive as they could be. Whenever he told her this in his daydream, she always laughed.

Tonight, he had enough time to go through every boy he could think of and disprove them for one reason or another.

'Well, who is there left?' She would ask him, but she would be smiling. Laughing. 'You've said no to every eligible boy in town.'

He would grin broadly, puff out his chest, and say, 'Not every boy. There's still me!'

She would laugh again and that feeling would stir in him, that feeling he got every time he watched her speak, and he wouldn't be able to stop himself from thinking, Gosh she's so beautiful, and –

He sat up in bed, promptly smacking his forehead into the low ceiling and falling out of bed, onto his knees. If he had any room in his brain to acknowledge the pain in his forehead, he would, but every corner of his mind was enlightened with the thought of her. Immediately, he scrambled to the window and thrust it open and gulped in the clear night air, his chest exploding with ecstasy.

Why hadn't he realized it before? How could he have been so daft, in all the years he'd known her? How could he have glanced at any other girl, when she'd be right by his side all along?

He knew what he had to do. There was only one answer. He began to pace around his room, planning, exciting himself – it was all so clear, it always had been.

Smiling into the night, he turned and ran.

Eponine sat up in bed, her heart racing. Had she heard…? She shook her head, running her fingers through her tangled hair. No, that was stupid. But it came again. A soft knock, and a whisper: "Eponine!"

Breathing heavily, she scurried across her bedroom and opened the window – and saw Marius's face.

"Marius!" She breathed, taking a step back. "What are you doing here? What time is it?"

"That's not important." Marius said, heaving himself onto the window sill. "Eponine, grab your things. Anything you can't live without. Money or food, if you've got some."

"What are you on about?" She asked him, but she did as she was told.

"We're running away."

She froze, her hand in midair. Was he being serious? After all these years of discussing the idea, dismissing it as only a daydream, were they actually going to do it?

"Marius…" She whispered. She crossed back to the window and brush a lock of hair out of his eyes. "We can't do that. You know you can't."

"Why not, 'Ponine? Why not? Give me one good reason why we can't."

She looked at him, into his flaming eyes, and couldn't find one.

"I'll get my things." She whispered, and she turned back around to her room, wondering if she was dreaming.

"'Ponine – one more thing." He grabbed her wrist and yanked her back, startling her, and startling her even more when he dove down and pressed his lips against hers.

Everything she'd ever known disappeared for just a moment and everything he'd been wondering shot through his veins, igniting his soul. His hand went to the back of her head to hold her there, tangling in her long, dark, beautiful hair and he didn't want to let her go ever again –

But she pulled away, smiling bigger than he'd ever seen her smile before. She didn't say anything, but she went back to getting her things, and Marius watched her. He didn't know how to explain a single thing that was running through his mind, but he wanted to tell her he loved her. He wanted nothing more than that. But as he opened his mouth, the words caught in his throat and he stopped.

He closed his lips into a simple smile. He didn't have to tell her right then. He knew – he just knew – he'd have plenty of opportunities to tell her.