Combeferre Fan-Fiction Part 4

Azelma hurriedly picked up the tattered and torn shawl off Combeferre's bed. She had to leave. What was this new feeling she was feeling inside of her soul? How nice a real bed had felt for a night! Azelma murmured in her head, as she limped toward the door and gazed around the small room. If only she knew how to write. She would write a quick little note to Combeferre. Eponine knows how to write! Azelma thought. No. She would tell Combeferre. I must go. With that last thought, Azelma backed out of the room and closed the door before limping out of sight. 

That night, Combeferre opened the door to his apartment. He had small parcels of meat and cheese. He was expecting to see Azelma sleeping, but to his horror and shock, she was not there. Quickly, Combeferre dropped all of the parcels on the table and looked around for a note or some kind of clue that would lead him to her. But nothing was there. Her shawl was gone, and that had been all she had had with her when he found her beaten and cornered in the street. Anxiously, he headed for Joly's first. Banging on the door, Combeferre waited patiently and soon the door was opened. 

"Combeferre, what are you doing here at this hour?" Lesgles yawned and leaned against the doorjamb with his hand resting on the knob for support. 

"I need to see Joly. Is Azelma here?" Combeferre asked. 

"Azelma? Eponine's sister? No, she's not here. Joly's not here either. To my knowledge he is with Musichetta tonight." Lesgles told him. "Why do you want to know anyways?" he added suspiciously. 

"Thank you, anyways. Good night, Lesgles." Combeferre quickly walked away, leaving Lesgles to wonder. His last stop for the night was Jehan's home. But Jehan did not know either. 

"Do not worry." Jehan told Combeferre. "You will find her." 

"Before or after the barricades arise?" Combeferre demanded. He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation.  He went home that night feeling discouraged. 

The next morning was bright and cheerful. Combeferre was not. He had barely gotten a wink of sleep. He had spent the night fretfully trying to think of places where Azelma could be. She wouldn't return to her father and his band of thieves. Would she? He spent every morning and afternoon searching for her, and when night fell, he was always at the Cafe Musain. The barricades were going to rise, in less than a two months. He could never go to fight on the barricade without knowing Azelma would be cared for and protected. Everyone was noticing Combeferre's agony. 

One night Enjolras pulled him aside. 

"Combeferre, are you alright? You seemed to be in agony. You also seem to be preoccupied.  Revolution," Enjolras started. 

"Is upon us." Combeferre murmured as he pulled on his coat. As he was walking out of the Cafe, he spotted Eponine walking down the street. 

"Eponine!" Combeferre called as he hurried to catch up with her. Turning, Eponine saw Combeferre running towards her. "Have you seen your sister?" Eponine shook her head and replied, "I haven't seen her. I thought she was with you, anyways." Combeferre told her how he had found his apartment vacant of Azelma. 

"I hope she hasn't gone back to Father." Eponine shivered at the sheer thought of it. 

Days passed, months passed, a season flew by. Still she hadn't walked through Combeferre's door. Combeferre was getting worried. He loved Azelma. Jehan had helped him to see the truth. Why hadn't he recognized it before? Did I send her away without knowing? Did she think our relationship was one-sided, therefore she didn't feel that it was worth being with me? Is this really all my fault? Combeferre spent many nights wondering this. Eponine and the barricades boys were not any help at all. Eponine spent her days finding this new girl that Marius was in love with, Marius spent his time watching the girl, Enjolras was busy planning the revolution, Grantaire was too drunk, and every else was busy. Would he ever find Azelma? 

With her teeth chatting, Azelma pulled the tattered shawl closer around her. Why had she ever chosen to leave Combeferre? When she was with Combeferre, she had had a bed, food, nourishment, and most importantly, love. Combeferre loved her, she knew that. But she need time. Rushing into the relationship with Combeferre was too much to take. Would he take me back? Or would he send me away? No, stop it Azelma! He would always take you back! But, would he? After everything I did? I feel so guilty and so dirty. Must I go back an confess everything that I have done? No. I shan't go back. I can't. I can't. Azelma pushed on. 

It was June 4th. The day before the barricades. Combeferre was walking near the Seine. It was a cloudy day and the chilly winds bit Combeferre's cheeks. He picked up a rock and threw it in. After taking his anger out on the rocks, he decided that throwing rocks would not help him find Azelma. He was on his way back, when he heard a cough and a feeble gasp. Hurriedly, Combeferre rushed down to the banks under the bridge. The sight was heartbreaking. There was a small frail little box, a piece of cloth that Comebferre guessed it had been a fine shawl many years ago, and a dirty potato sack. Azelma, now looking even more malnourished, was now soaking wet. The gasp he had heard was Azelma's. She was trying to sleep, when the slippery mud sent her into the cold freezing river. Now she was soaked to the bone. Her corset and skirt-well they didn't even look like a corset and skirt anymore, were ripped and shredded, and revealing a bit more than Combeferre cared to see. 

"Azelma! Oh, Azelma, my darling!" Combeferre rushed down to help his love up. Her hair and dress was muddy and her teeth were chattering. The young girl looked up at him meekly and asked, "Combeferre?" The man place his arms around him and set her in his lap and hugged her. It felt wonderful to be held by Combeferre, but at the same time, Azelma was biting her lip. How could you get mud all over Combeferre's fine clothes? I mean look at his coat now! And his cravat! And his trousers! Look at what you've done, Azelma! You ought to be ashamed of yourself. He seemed to read her mind and quietly rebuked her, "Stop worrying about the mud on my clothing. Goodness, Azelma! Look at your skin! How long have you been like this?" All of the tears she had held back came pouring out like a dam breaking free. 

"Oh Combeferre! Just go! Leave me! You could never love me after what I have done!" Azelma hastily started to crawl off of Combeferre as she started to cry. Her cries struck Combeferre's heart like a knife. 

"What have you done that is so terrible that I can never love you again?" Combeferre put two hands on Azelma's sides and gently pulled her back against his firm chest. 

"I-I, our relationship. It just started so fast. I've never been loved by a man. My father loved me until we were thrown into poverty. He couldn't care less about me! But you! You! You! You! You treated me like I was the queen of France. You didn't care about what I looked like, you didn't judge me. But I needed time to think. So I left. But I meant only to leave for a night. But on my way to you, I ran into Father's gang. They still hadn't punished me for not doing my job when you came to my rescue, so it doubled the punishment. They had another job for me, which again, I failed to do correctly. I was punished again, and I think I they have broken my wrist. I was not allowed to come home, and I already had no food and no shelter. So I started to steal food. I would go through rich folks garbage and take scraps here. But I was making no money, and people were catching me trying to steal." She paused here. Combeferre knew by the look in her eyes that the worst part was coming. 

"And, and I grew so desperate! I was so hungry! So hungry! And, and-," Azelma now started to cry even harder than before. "I started to prostitute myself for money. I worked at that for days. With that money I bought food. But only stale bread was what I got. I couldn't go back to face you, Combeferre! You deserve so much better than a prostituting, dirty, poor girl like me. You deserve a girl like Marius'. I couldn't go back to you. I was so ashamed. I figure that I would die here before I went back to tell you all of the sins I have made." Now the poor girl put her frail face into her equally frail hands and wept bitterly. Combeferre comforted her and whispered that everything was okay. 

"No, it is not okay! I don't deserve you! Not after what I've done!" Azelma started to hiccup.  Pushing away the muddy hair from Azelma's face, Combeferre tilted her chin up so she was forced to look into his eyes. 

"Azelma, nothing could make me stop loving you. Not after you've stolen, not after you have prostituted yourself. It is not right, but not event that could stop me from loving you." Combeferre then leaned down before catching Azelma's lips in a kiss. They sat simply kissing for a moment, before Combeferre scooped up Azelma and her shawl in his arms and carried her to his apartment. As soon as he got to his street, he turned to Joly's and knocked on the door. Joly opened it, and his whole look told Combeferre that he was horrified. Azelma was sleeping in his arms.

"Bring her in here." Joly whispered. Joly checked out Azelma's wrist and confirmed that it was broken, before giving Combeferre directions to tell Azelma when she woke up. That night Combeferre dragged in the washbasin and filled it with heated water, before putting a thin washcloth and a bar of soap in reach. He then exited the room, so Azelma could bathe. He was on his way to get some more food, when he ran into Jehan and Joly. 

"Combeferre!" Jehan called! "Combeferre!" Combeferre turned and saw Joly and Jehan rushing toward him. In their arms were brown-paper packaged items. 

"These are from Alix and Musichetta. They are too small on each of them. All they need for Azelma is tighter lacing. They are not queens dresses, but they are better than those," Jehan wondered what to call Azelma's corset and skirt, for they were not a skirt or corset anymore. "Rags she wears. There is undergarments, corsets, dresses, a couple pairs of shoes, a hairbrush and nightgown from Alix, and twenty francs and a dressing robe from Musichetta." Feeling as though he could not breath, Combeferre shook hands with both men and thanked them repeatedly, before taking the packages to Azelma. 

Azelma sat in the now-lukewarm water. She had washed and was just enjoying the feel of the warm water. It was now a deep murky brown. She was just about to step out when the door opened. Sinking back as deep into the water as she could, Azelma held her breath. A night gown, undergarments, a dressing robe, slippers and a hairbrush were carefully tossed on the bed in reach of her before the door closed once again.With a contented sigh, Azelma dried off, and slipped into the clothes. Real clothes. Silk! They are silk! I've never worn silk before! Azelma was tying the belt on her dressing robe when Combeferre came in with the rest of the packages. 

"These are from Alix, who is Jehan's mistress, and Musichetta, who is Joly and Legsles' mistress. They are all too small on them, and they though they would fit you." Combeferre set down the rest of the items, before opening a the parcels of meats, wedges of cheese and loaves of bread. He looked over at Azelma and smiled. Even if she was thinner than a rail, she was beautiful. She looked like an angel all in white. Her dark hair was thin and a bit stringy, but clean and yet still beautiful. He handed her the food, which she inhaled and replied, "Merci beaucoup, Monsieur." 

"De rien." Combeferre whispered. After she was finished eating, Azelma yawned and got ready for bed. Just before she laid her head on the pillow, Combeferre came over and gave her a kiss on the lips that sent Azelma into Heaven, before he returned to his mat on the floor. While she slept, Combeferre was worrying once again. The barricades were to arise the next day. He would have to leave her. Again. But he wanted to always be there to protect her. Now he was leaving, and possibly dying on the barricades. He said a prayer before he slept. 

The next morning, Combeferre woke early. He had to be up and on the side of the street with the rest of the Friends of the ABC. He stood and dressed, and looked over while Azelma slept. He kissed her on the lips as she slept and whispered, "Know, my dear Azelma, that I love you with all of my heart." With that, he left. 

When he approached the streets, they were already crowded. He spotted Enjolras and the group and hurried to stand over with them. 

"Ah, Combeferre. The day of revolution has come!" Enjolras announced. Courfeyrac, Jehan, Joly, Bossuet, Lesgles, Feuilly and Grantaire were also there. Surprisingly, even Marius was there. Before long, the National Guardsmen and the coffin of General Lamarque were traveling The streets. Everyone was solemn as they started to sing, "Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men, is it the music of a people who will not be slaves again! When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!"  

"Will you join in our crusade who will be strong and stand will me? Somewhere beyond the barricade is there a world you long to see?" Combeferre sang at the top of his lungs. 

"Then join in the fight that will give you the right to be free!" Courfeyrac sang. All of the Friends of the ABC started to climb onto he open carriage that held Lamarque's coffin. 

In a matter of minutes the fighting had started. National Guardsmen started to shoot at innocent people and the barricade boys. 

"To the barricades!" Enjolras screamed. Everyone ran to the Cafe Musain. Marius tossed down  the French flag to Enjolras. 

"We need as furniture as you can throw down!" Courfeyrac hollered to the women and young girls inside the houses surrounding them. Chairs, dressers, tables, pianos, mattresses came tumbling out of the window. Combeferre, Enjolras, Courfeyrac and Jehan pushed a carriage over on its side. as soon as the barricade was built, all of the lead Barricade Boys were at the tops with guns, pistols and rifles. Eventually they learned that a spy was among them. A police inspector named Javert.

The first attack came soon enough. Bahorel was killed by a guard who stabbed Bahorel with his bayonet. After the first attack, the roll was called. One of the insurgents was missing. And who was it? One of the dearest. One of the most valiant. Jean Prouvaire. He was sought among the wounded, he was not there. He was sought among the dead, he was not there. He was evidently a prisoner. At the end of the street there was a significant clash of arms. They heard a manly voice shout:-- "Vive la France! Long live France! Long live the future!" They recognized the voice of Prouvaire. A flash passed, a report rang out. Silence fell again. Enjolras glanced at Javert, and said to him:-- "They have killed him," exclaimed Combeferre. "Your friends have just shot you." Eponine died in the first attack in Marius' arms. Combeferre's heart hurt at the sight of a now-deceased Eponine. What would he tell Azelma? Gavoroche was killed next, for he had been trying to gather cartridges, despite Combeferre's warnings.

It was not long after, before the barricade was attacked again. This time the battle was even bloodier. Joly, Bossuet, Feuilly, Courfeyrac were killed. Combeferre, spattered in blood was lifting up a wounded soldier, when he was pierced three times from a bayonet. He look up to Heaven and whispered, "Azelma, I love you." before he fell and expired. 

Azelma woke to see the apartment vacant and empty. 
"Combeferre?" Azelma wondered aloud. She went a whole day worrying. The next morning very suddenly, the door was banged open. A bloody man fell to his knees. 
"Are you alright, Monsieur?" Azelma asked, worriedly. 
"Are you Mademoiselle Azelma?" the man gasped for air. 
"Yes. What has happened?" Azelma cried out. 
"Combeferre- he has died. A bayonet. Eponine is dead! Gavroche was is dead! Everyone has died!" the man sobbed. "He told me to tell you if he died. He also told me to tell you that he loves you and he will see you in Heaven." Azelma fell to her knees and sobbed. Her Combeferre was dead. Her sister Eponine was dead. Her brother Gavroche, whom though she didn't know well enough, was dead. She took the man's hand into hers and replied, "Thank you. Thank you." Oh, Combeferre. I love you so very much! Then both them looked out the window to see a new beautiful dawn rising.

The End

I hope you have enjoyed the end of Combeferre and Azelma's love story! 

---Sydney, I hope I did the ending of your wonderful fan-fiction justice. Thank you so very much (Or so I say merci beaucoup? (thank you so much!) for giving me the opportunity! Did you catch how I incorporated Alix in there from your heartbreaking Jehan fan-fiction? And I also incorporated some lyrics from "Til I Hear You Sing" from Love Never Dies. See if you can spot them! :) Once again, thank you so much, Sydney!!!

Tell Me If You Enjoyed The Ending Of Combeferre and Azelma's Love Story!! Tell Me What You Think!!!