A/N: Very short epilogue! Just tying up a few loose ends.

"Euphrasie, I'm sorry. I know it's hardly an ideal situation for you, but Éponine needs me. She needs us."

"I understand, Papa." She sniffled and looked away. "This is God's plan. He's punishing me for being selfish with you and I've already accepted that."

"No, Cos- Euphrasie, you mustn't think things like that," he said, enveloping her shoulders and wondering what failure it had been on his part to teach her to blame herself for other people's problems. It must have been the nuns' fault, he thought bitterly. "God would never punish you because you have done nothing wrong. You have been nothing but selfless ever since I met you."

"That's a lie and you know it," she said. "You're the selfless one. I tried to have you and Marius both. Now I've lost Marius and I'm going to lose you too."

"You won't lose me," he said soothingly. "I'll always be right here, I promise."

"No you won't," said Euphrasie bitterly. "You're not immortal. You don't know when you're going to die."

He was shocked and speechless. This was the first time she had ever spoken thus to him. Less than a year ago, she had accepted his every word as gospel truth. Now, more than when he had read Marius' letter, he truly felt that she was slipping away from him, that he was talking to an adult. A contrary and petulant adult, but an adult nonetheless. Then he reflected that there were some advantages to speaking with adults as opposed to children.

"Euphrasie, my dear, perhaps God is answering your prayers. You always wanted a larger family, someone to play with who was your own age, and now you have both a brother and a sister. It is fitting that you should have a few more years to savor your childhood before you go off and get married. I've accepted that I will lose you someday, as you have accepted that you will lose me. What we get now with each other is a second chance."

"I know, Papa. And I'm sorry. I'll do everything I can to make it up to you, even though I know it'll never be enough."

"Sorry for what? Falling in love? Don't ever apologize for loving, Euphrasie. It is the best and only thing we can do. You think we need a good reason for it? I did not need a reason to love you, the first time I saw you in that awful inn. I just did. That is the only reason God gives us."

"I know, Papa," Euphrasie repeated. "It's just- sometimes I feel as if I didn't deserve it. As if I don't deserve it still."

Fauvent hugged her tighter. He could offer her no satisfying response.

"Who is it?" asked a gruff voice.

"It's me, Enjolras. May I come in?"

"Go ahead," said the darker-haired man, and the blond entered.

"Grantaire, I need to know honestly that you're not bitter about this wedding. I don't want to just toss you aside, to lose you as a friend. But we can't just pretend like the kiss didn't happen."

"You're the only person I know who would acknowledge that," said Grantaire, as he kneeled down in his room packing his suitcase to prepare for his long trip home. "I was starving, I was drunk, I was exhausted and terrified, I wasn't thinking straight. Obviously. Neither were you. I'm surprised I haven't forgotten about it. In any case, mine was a love that could never be, so it seems senseless to deny you happiness on account of my foolish fantasies. The only decent thing I can do now is get out of your and Ép's lives altogether."

"That's not true, you have so much still to offer us. To offer the world." Enjolras leaned down beside Grantaire and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Don't be a coward about this, R. Don't senselessly sacrifice yourself. There are good reasons for martyrdom, but this is not one of them." Suddenly he had a flashback to all those months ago, when he lectured Éponine about the stupidity of giving up on Marius just because he loved Cosette/Euphrasie. "Stay in Paris. Drop by once in a while. 'Ponine and I would be sad to see you go. This is the city where someone like you can make a difference, can change the course of history. This place will cure you of your cynicism, if you just give it a decade or two. You're the smartest person I know, Grantaire. Don't squander that."

"All right," said Grantaire finally, standing up. "For you, Alexandre, I will." He looked Enjolras squarely in the eye. "Did you know, 'Zandre, that it's a crime in this and almost every other nation, for a grown man to kiss another on the mouth, even if both parties consent? Considered sodomy? I'm no poet, but I am Byronic in my passions, and there are others like me out there. With all your talk of liberty, equality and justice, where is that issue addressed? It's not. We are like women or slaves, without hope of ever being visible, much less free. We are terrified of the light."

"I never saw it that way before," said Enjolras sincerely. "You have opened my eyes, mon ami. I shall look into what you have said... quietly, of course. We have something in common, but not in the way that you think."

"I thought you'd like to know that I'm clean," said Grantaire, as he awkwardly stood up. "Haven't had a sip since we made it out of the sewer. Alcohol tastes disgusting to me now. But I think it damaged my brain permanently. Nothing to be done about it."

"I'm so sorry, Grantaire," said Enjolras, though the remnants of his former self all wanted to say 'I told you so'.

"Éponine is right for you, Enjolras. You're right for her. I would never do anything to separate you two, not after what you've been through together. I was more in love with the idea of you than anything else. I suppose I always understood that, but I never wanted to admit it to myself."

"Good. I'm glad we've come to an understanding. Éponine loves me for the things it feels good to be loved for- my intelligence, my courage, my passion. And I see the things in her that Marius never did. In that way, we complement each other." Here he paused. "Don't think I don't appreciate what you're doing, Grantaire. Congratulations on graduating and your degree, and I hope we meet again soon."

"Just one last kiss," Grantaire whispered. "Be unfaithful to your fiancée. I want to be sober this time. If you will permit it."

"One last kiss," Enjolras agreed softly, locking the door behind them.

Grantaire was not going to be at the wedding. He disappeared into the vast heart of Paris, determined to do something good in the world. Enjolras did not tell Éponine the reason for his absence, but they both wept individually for the friend who could have been their best man.

Meanwhile, there was also some good news. Fauvent found his long-lost sister, Jeanne Mathieu. It was a total fluke- she happened to be a friend of Madame Hucheloup's who had moved to Paris and remarried shortly after Napoleon took power. Fauvent was quite distracted by this serendipitous turn of events, and was gone for an entire day to go see her and her surviving son and grandchildren. He did not speak of this day to Éponine or even to Euphrasie, but afterwards he wore a smile, and the children did not feel the need to pry for answers.

Éponine had a love-hate relationship with the bourgeois version of herself. Whereas Euphrasie liked her pale whites and yellows and lavenders, Éponine preferred darker blues and periwinkles to reflect the dark past that she had survived. She even wore a bonnet, which was ridiculous in that there was no practical purpose for shielding skin which had already been tanned far beyond any standards of ladyhood.

"M'sieur, wouldn't you rather have a son than a daughter?" she asked as she climbed a tree in her backyard with surprising agility.

"I daresay no. Girls are much easier. They don't run off to fight on barricades." He chuckled. "Well, most of them don't, anyway." Éponine was slightly jealous that Fauvent finding his sister has stolen some of the thunder from her wedding, but she put it aside because she was happy for him. After all, he had helped her find her brother, so now they had an experience in common.

"Maman said that gentlemen prefer boys because they're more useful," she said. "Isn't that true, M'sieur?"

"First of all, Éponine, if you're to be a lady, call gentlemen 'Monsieur', not 'M'sieur'. But not me, because I am your papa. No, I don't believe that boys are particularly more useful than girls. All I know is that I have two daughters that I wouldn't trade for anything in the world."

"But don't you want Monsieur Enjolras as your son?" she asked. "I thought you loved him."

"I do," said Fauchelevent. "And I am looking forward to having him as a son, just not as the kind you raise alongside your daughters."

He laughed again. Éponine was proud of being able to make Fauchelevent laugh. Behind the dark veil with which she had shrouded herself all those years, there was the dryest sense of humor known to man. Grantaire joked that she liked her humor 'on the rocks'.

"'Ponine," called Euphrasie from inside the house. "The carriage is waiting."

"Well?" said Fauchelevent kindly. "What are you waiting for?"

"Nothing," she said, and kissed him on the forehead. "Now, take my hand, Papa."

A/N: R is such a tragic character, isn't he? I don't want people to think I'm homophobic, but I just can't see their relationship working out at all in a canon-era setting.

Sorry for the delay in the final chapter! This has been a fun little adventure for me, and I've collected a lot of plot bunnies. So tell me in the reviews what you want me to work on next. I'll probably do a few oneshots and then another serial when I have more time. I could do a Valjean/Fantine AU fic, a modern AU featuring Cosette and Éponine (gen or shippy, depending on where it goes), or a Gone with the Wind piece. Or even a GWTW/Les Mis crossover, if people want it.