A time to acknowledge you are not fine
Hi everyone! So, ever since I saw the movie Les Miserables, I've been obsessed with the story. Although I haven't yet had the time to read the book, I've done quite some research and read loads of stories here on . I might not be able (yet) to get every character right, I hope I can at least entertain you with my stories.
This story is still quite short, because I first want to know if there is even any interest in it at all. It is about Enjolras and les amis set some time before the rebellion. Enjolras gives one of his inspiring speeches but things escalate and he finds himself in the midst of a riot. He gets injured but tries to hide it from his friends, which of course, doesn't end well.
It was supposed to be peaceful demonstration. Enjolras found himself preaching on the rights of man, their equality and the time for change in front of a small crowd drinking up every word he had to say, nodding their understandings and cheering him on.
He was alone, his friends were either back at Café Musain or speaking to the people in another part of Paris.
He was right in the middle of his talk when he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head. Everything went blurry; the world tilted and suddenly all he felt himself falling. Things went so fast after that, he would have a hard time telling what in godsname was going on. There were people shouting and running. People falling and crying.
And then there was a group of men he did not recognize. They were definitely not present at his speech in the beginning and he concluded right away they were responsible for the panic in the crowd and the pain in his head. That was most likely the last coherent thought he had before everything went black.
When he came to and opened his eyes he was seated against a wall along with some other people who got injured. Confused he tried to get up and find out what had happened, but he was pushed down by a police man.
"Easy there young man, you took quite the fall."
"What happened?", Enjolras asked, wondering if the police man knew what he was doing seconds before the panic started.
"You got a knock to the head with a wine bottle by a group of bandits", he answered, "They were trying to rob as many people as they could, even though there is not much to take from the ones gathered here today, as you in fact pointed out quite clearly during your little speech before."
There was no anger in the man's voice however; Enjolras even thought he could detect a whiff of sympathy there and forced himself to relax.
"Were the men caught?", Enjolras asked.
"Yes, they were and they will be punished fittingly. Now, do you think you feel good enough to stand up?"
Enjolras nodded and got up while holding a firm hand on the wall behind him. "I suppose I should say some things about what you were doing before, but let's just leave it at this", the man said.
After making sure the people who got involved in the riot were going to be okay, Enjolras decided to go his way. There was no way he would be able to finish what he had started now anyway. Feeling as if he got hit on the head with anvil he wanted nothing more than to return to his lodge, lay down, and wish the pain away. But he had to report to his friends at the Musain. They would want to know that now there were bandits roaming around the streets of Paris. "Probably out of poverty as well", Enjolras thought to himself.
When he arrived at the Café, he took a deep breath before going in. He needed to be strong. No doubt his friends would fuss all over him if they knew he got hit in the head and fell down the crates he was standing on while doing his speech. He was fine. Just a little headache, nothing a little sleep couldn't fix. But first he had to report. And so he went inside.