#r and jehan being besties (in the future

[pyromaniacbibliophile]

The Halls of the Dead (Chapter 1)

ao3 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

So I was musing on the afterlife then I saw this post and I thought 'Afterlife enjoltaire?' then this happened. Bear in mind I haven't read the brick yet (though i desperately want to but i'm forbidden from bying books near my bday) so Les Amis are based off what little we get of them in the movie and the 178 les mis fics ive read.

MY FIRST LES MIS FIC I'M SO HAPPY :)

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Time passed differently in the afterlife, Eponine guessed. She had woken up a few hours ago, and unless Les Amis had made a sensible decision and left their barricade, surely someone would have died by now. 

Standing up, she stretched and looked around herself. She was in a meadow, the sort of meadow you read about in books. Sun beat down from above, the green grass was speckled with yellow and pink flowers, bees and butterflies flitted through the air. It was nice, she thought to herself. 

It was obviously the afterlife, but surely it couldn’t be just this? There must be something else, she decided, and began to walk. 

Not ten minutes later, she came to a river. It was easily 8 metres wide, and it looked deep. She looked up and down, but there was no bridge. Eponine was about to turn back when a boat appeared. A boat rowed by a skeleton in a black cloak. Ah. 

“Come, Soul, for you must cross to the other side.” The skeleton declared.

“Must I cross now?” She asked. 

“No, but you cannot reside in the Meadows. You will have family and friends on the other side.”

“My only family is still alive. As are my friends. I wish to wait for them.” Although she hoped Gavroche wouldn’t be here for a long, long time, she doubted that could happen. She would also like to think the French Army wouldn’t shoot children, but again, there was little chance of that being true. 

“You may be waiting a long time.”

“Can you find out how long?” 

The skeleton paused. “It is not typically the done thing… Your name?”

“Eponine Thenardier.” 

It pulled out a long scroll of paper and unrolled it. “Thenardier, Thenardier.. The Beginning of the French Revolution?” 

“Sounds about right.”

“Not long at all, Mademoiselle Thenardier.”

“Thank you.” 

She turned, and began to walk back to the meadows, when she saw a familiar figure sit up in the grass just ahead. She stared. 

“Monsieur Mabeuf?”