au. les miserables / the hunger games.
i. eponine whimpers as marius shifts to hold her, a pained sound that escapes raggedly from her throat. his thoughts are wild, untamed things: they ask why, above everything else. why she took that knife that was meant for him. they were district partners, they’ve been friends for a long time, even though they’re as different as possible – his family are rich merchants, she’s a seam kid. yet he still can’t understand why she saved him. he holds her, and it begins to rain, and marius somehow knows that the gamemakers have done that on purpose. to make for better television. to improve their ratings. the raindrops begin to hit his head and he shifts, trying to shield her with his body, but she tells him to leave it. she asks him for a kiss. she falls back, bloody and limp and sighs, not knowing that the rest of panem is sighing along with her.
“do you know, marius, I believe I was a little bit in love with you.”
there was a merchant girl named cosette who had given marius a red silk handkerchief as a token in the games. marius tucks it into eponine’s front pocket. it’s the nicest thing she’s ever owned.
ii. gavroche has never had this much food in his life. he’s grown up starving, no food, no family. he’s the first twelve year old ever picked for the games, tiny and charming in his pluck. during the interviews, his distinct accent and odd mannerisms make him a hit. he climbs trees as nimbly as he once climbed the buildings of his hometown, stealing to eat and looking after the other boys. but all the climbing in the world can’t help him when he’s shot down, but his body is so small that it hardly makes a sound.
iii. enjolras has always dreamed of revolution. his parents are capitol socialites, but he refuses to enslave himself to the latest fashions. he hides himself away and does what he can to bring the capitol down. somehow, he’s managed to find others who think the same way: joly, combeferre, bossuet, courfeyrac, bahorel, jean prouvaire. he doesn’t count grantaire in this number. he still doesn’t understand what possesses the man to hang around them at all.
they have to be careful. a single mistake could lead to the deaths of them all.
iv. the deaths of eponine and gavroche are a sign. enjolras listens to the unhappy murmurs, hears reports of dissent stirring in the districts themselves. he feels a hope rising in him. if the oppressed workers of districts 11 and 12 overthrow their overseers, then they could cut the capitol off from food and fuel. he knows that he would rewrite society into a republic, like the ones of old. grantaire tells him that it will never work, that people will never co-operate enough for such a system.
but enjolras has nothing, if he has not hope.
v. the people are scared. they stay in their homes. they don’t rise to meet the challenge. they don’t rewrite their own destinies. enjolras was wrong, and grantaire was right, but at the end of their lives, it didn’t seem to matter. they are shot in a public square by firing squad. enjolras dies holding a red flag and grantaire’s hand. it was supposed to be a symbol of their revolution-that-never was.
vi. the capitol wipes them from history. speaking their names is made illegal. slowly, people forget about them, except those who are old and quiet enough to remember.
vii. decades later, a young girl sits in a meadow beyond the fence and listens to her father tell a story that he heard from his father before him. there’s an explicit instruction: don’t tell your mother. she adds it to the list, along with the bows, and the hunting, and the song: are you, are you…
finally, she asks:
“why didn’t it work?”
“people were scared. maybe it just wasn’t the right time. eat the rest of your fish.”
viii. the girl is almost a woman now, and revolution is nipping at her heels. a handful of berries is enough to bring a government to its knees. but she’s scared, still. scared of what might happen if she fails.
katniss everdeen closes her eyes and draws a deep breath. she remembers the story.
it wasn’t the right time.
and she thinks to herself, it is now.
