The Pre-Initiation of Marius Pontmercy. PG.

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The Pre-Initiation of Marius Pontmercy. PG.

Postby ancslove » Fri Dec 28, 2012 12:20 am

Courfeyrac stretched out comfortably on Enjolras' bed, not caring the least that the bed's owner was relegated to a small corner on the end. Enjolras seemed content enough, face buried in some coursework that Courfeyrac hadn't even begun. Courfeyrac himself was in the process of arguing a far more important case.

"He's a good man. And he'll bring our core group to a nice, round number of ten."

The third occupant of the room drew his brows together in a familiar expression of cautious disapproval. Although the final decision would be Enjolras', Combeferre's vet held significant weight. His was often the last word before Enjolras made the call. "Is that the totality of your reasoning?"

"Of course not. As I said, he's a good fellow. Seems intelligent, if a might shy sometimes. A dreamer, has his head in the clouds an impressive amount of the time, but also has a good heart. I know these things."

Sitting forward, Combeferre arched an inquiring brow, tilting his head slightly in Enjolras' direction, and Courfeyrac laughed. "No, not at all. But good, nonetheless."

Combeferre sank back in his chair, feeling an inexplicable relief easing his muscles.

"Nine is a significant and powerful number in many cultures," Enjolras chimed in without looking up.

Exchanging a secret smile with Combeferre, Courfeyrac fairly catapulted himself into a cross-legged sitting position and flung an arm around the blond. "We could start a new and glorious tradition for ten."

Wisely, Courfeyrac decided not to voice the other fanciful thoughts floating in his head. That Enjolras could be the Sun for his nine planets, or Apollo for his nine Muses. Combeferre wouldn't appreciate his use of whimsy over truth, and Enjolras could be hurt. He pulled Enjolras closer, as if in apology for his errant thought, and nuzzled the soft hair. Looking down, he frowned. "Why are you working on this now? It's not due for another four days."

"I have meetings and other, more important work to accomplish in those four days. What is your friend's name?"

"Marius. Marius Pontmercy. A nice kid who seems amenable."

"Has he mentioned any political beliefs?" asked Combeferre.

Courfeyrac tried to suppress a chuckle, the memory still amusing even days after the incident. "Yes. He's, erm, a Bonapartist democrat."

"He's a what?" Enjolras slowly looked up at him, and now Courfeyrac did laugh at the complete disbelief etched in his friend's normally impassive face.

Combeferre's frown had returned. "Courfeyrac, that can't be his genuine alignment. If this friend isn't willing to be honest with you, I highly doubt that he's ready to meet the others."

"I admit that it sounds feeble and ridiculous. But I believe that he's just confused, and meeting the rest, seeing us in the Musain, can only help him. He's ready, he just doesn't realize that yet. We will be gaining a new ally, and helping a young soul in need! I was right about Prouvaire, wasn't I?"

"Prouvaire's convictions were firm and his eyes already opened. He needed only a roost to nurture them. That does not sound like your friend here."

"Perhaps not, Enjolras. But Marius is no royalist, and the beliefs that he does hold are strong. I think his political ideals are still unformed, but his dislikes align with ours. With proper tutoring, I think he could be an asset. At least try him?"

Enjolras glanced at Combeferre, who shifted a shoulder in turn. Both seemed at a loss, and Courfeyrac pressed that advantage. "I'm not asking to induct him right now. Just, let me bring him to the Musain. Let him meet you and our friends, and hear us speak freely about the things close to our hearts. If he learns as I predict, we may proceed from there."

Enjolras took his hand. "You would vouch for him? It would be endangering many people, not just us, if he doesn't do as you predict. If he should listen, and then go to the police," he trailed off.

"I don't think he will," Courfeyrac assured him. "He's far too timid to do something like that. And he knows me and Bossuet. Even if he doesn't join us, he won't betray us."

Courfeyrac gripped the hand he held, and stretched the other across to Combeferre. "You know that I'd never endanger you like that."

Another glance, then Enjolras nodded decisively. "Very well, I trust you. Let us meet your friend."

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