Prologue

Nobody paid any attention to the girl who sat alone in the corner of the boat. She seemed to have pulled herself into a tight bundle, hiding her body from the eyes of other people. Her face was that of a fifteen-year-old's -- even if it was thin and sickly-looking. But her large blue eyes were more like those of an old woman who had seen all the hardships that life had to offer. Her hair, which had once fallen in glorious chestnut plaits down her back, now hung in limp, greasy strands around her face. Her clothes may once have been pretty and colourful, but now were torn and mudstained. She seemed scared as her eyes darted around the room and she jumped at any small sound. Her name was Azelma, and she was on her way to Paris.

Azelma glanced around the small room. She was the only girl in a place full of men, but none of them seemed to see her. They were in worlds of their own. Azelma didn't care though, she had her own company. She reached into her pocket and pulled out two worn, yellow pieces of paper. She looked at the first. In the middle she had drawn her mother and father... just as she remembered them. Smirks on their faces, her father glancing to the side. He would never look at anyone straight in the eyes. Azelma pulled out her pencil and shaded her father's hair a darker colour. She glanced around the rest of the paper... her little brother Gavroche, the inn where she had grown up in Montreuil-sur-mer, her house in America and the tiny room in Paris where she had lived aged fourteen. Azelma turned over the paper and there was her father on his deathbed. She remembered it well, it was just before he had told her that there was no money left. Nothing for her to live on. It was after that she had told him that she was going back to Paris, the only place she had really known well. He had told her to just go, not to wait for him to die. And so she left. Azelma smiled slightly, and put the paper back in her pocket. She picked up the second one gently, as if she feared to tear it. She studied it closely, and her eyes filled with tears as she touched the pencil lines tenderly. It was her best drawing, and it was of Eponine. Azelma didn't cry as she looked at it, she had done all her crying for Eponine a long time ago.

Chapter One
The Streets Are Full of Strangers

Paris was as she had left it, although (if it was possible) it seemed to be even more poverty-stricken. When she had lived there, the beggars slept in doorways or under bridges -- hiding themselves from the rest of the city. Now they slept in the middle of streets, and people hurried around them like they weren't there. It was raining and Azelma didn't have a coat or shoes. She sneezed loudly, and a shiver went down her spine. Two boys ran past her, nearly knocking her off her feet.

The elder boy spun round. "Sorry Mademoiselle!" he chirped cheerfully, still running.

Azelma's eyes widened. "Gavroche?" she called through the rain. She got no answer, and called again but the boy was long gone.

She sighed, of course it hadn't been Gavroche. He was dead, but that boy had looked so much like him. She was living in the past again, her father always said that. He would shout at her to start living her new life and stop dewling on the old. She would scream that he hadn't cared about anything, not even his own wife and daughter. He would slap her then, call her names.

She coughed, and pain shot down her throat. She put her hands to her cheeks and they felt red hot. Desperate to get out of the rain she darted into the nearest doorway, and pulled out her picture of Eponine.

"'Ponine," she said quickly. "I don't know what to do, or where to go. I don't know anyone anymore. Paris is different now -- there are beggars everywhere. And I feel sick, my hands are hot. I saw a boy too, a gamin. He looked like Gavroche, I thought it was him. I called, but he had gone." She felt her forehead. "My forehead's hot too 'Ponine, like father's was before he died. Maybe I'm dying too. That wouldn't be too bad -- I could be with you." She touched the picture. "Wherever it is that you are." She glanced out to the street. "Maybe your Monsieur Marius is still around. But he won't remember me, no one remembers me."

She glanced to the street again, and saw a girl. She had shoulder length blonde hair and was wearing rags -- somehow she still looked beautiful.

A smile broke out on Azelma's face, showing her yellow teeth. "'Ponine?" she called.

The girl smiled broadly.

"'Ponine!!" Azelma stuffed the drawing back in her pocket and ran into the middle of the street.

When she got there the girl had gone. Azelma spun around calling her name, but nothing. An anguished sob broke from Azelma's throat, and she collapsed in a heap on the ground.

Chapter Two
Look Down and Show Some Mercy If You Can

Marius Pontmercy was hurrying home. He was already an hour late, and Cosette would be angry if he missed dinner. He stopped under a street lamp and checked his watch again. He was now an hour and a half late. To be a little quicker he took the short cut. He rarely did this as it led through one of the most popular haunts for beggars in Paris. Marius pulled his coat tighter around him against the harsh wind, and ran. He darted around the sleeping figures, one made a grab for his coat but he jumped out of reach.

Marius looked up the street, and noticed a person slumped under the beam of a street light. This person looked like a child, and was obviously not sleeping. None of the people around payed attention to the figure or whatever state they might have been in. Marius ran to the street light, and rolled the figure so it was facing him. He sprung back in shock. It was a girl of about fifteen, and her hands and face were boiling hot even in the cold rain.

Marius frowned, then studied her face closely. He was sure he had seen her somewhere before, but where? He glanced at her pockets and saw a yellow piece of paper sticking out. Thinking he could learn more about this girl, he reached into the pocket and pulled the papers out. Shielding them from the rain he gasped. On the first sheet were drawings of the Thénardiers and the small room that had been next to his own just across the city. He looked at the second and saw Eponine Thénardier, the girl who had led him to Cosette.

The girl in front of him moaned.

He suddenly realised who she was. "Azelma!" he cried. Eponine's younger sister, of course. He looked at her more closely, how much she looked like Eponine! Marius put the papers back in her pocket and picked her up. He pulled his coat around her and ran home.

Chapter Three
Her Life Was Cold and Dark

Azelma opened her eyes slightly. The pain in her head was only slight now, and her hands weren't hot. She wasn't really sure where she was. There were soft pillows behind her head, and a warm blanket over her. She was wearing a new night gown and someone had placed her drawings in her hand. She took in her surroundings more -- she was in a room obviously intended for an elderly man, all green and pine. Even so it was a handsome room and she felt comfortable in it.

"Is it a hospital?" she murmured to herself. "Maybe an orphanage?" But she doubted that either hospitals or orphanages had rooms this rich.

"Who is she?" a woman's voice snapped, sounding from outside the door.

Azelma started, and sat up in bed.

"Her name is Azelma Thénardier. She is Eponine's younger sister," a man's voice also drifted in through the door.

"Marius!" the woman cried.

Azelma started again, Marius! Could it be Eponine's Monsieur Marius?

The woman continued. "She is in the room intended for my father!" Her voice seemed to become childlike and she spoke to herself. "A little gamin in my father's room! We can't have that.... I want her out!"

"She is ill. Very ill. You heard what the doctor said."

"I do not care! She is in my father's room!"

The man sighed. "Cosette, what has become of you? You were so kind before..." His voice faltered.

"Before what? Before my father died? Before my only companion for so many years, the only man I cared about before you died?"

The man was getting angry, his tone was quicker. "You spend all your time in the graveyard! Chalking verse on your father's grave!"

"He was my father. I loved him." The woman's voice broke and there was a sound of sobbing.

Curiously Azelma crept to the door and placed her eye against the key hole. The woman, Cosette, was stood with her back to the door, her arms folded across her chest. Her hair was dark brown and hung in glossy ringlets to her waist. Azelam didn't pay much attention to her, it was the man she was interested in. He approached Cosette and attempted to put his hand on her shoulder, but she jumped as though he burned her. He took his hand away and turned to face the door, his eyes glassy with tears.

"I'm sorry, Cosette -- I didn't mean it. I... I... I shouldn't have put her in your father's room," he was blinking and trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

Azelma begged for Cosette to come and accept his apology but she didn't. Azelma studied his face. His eyes were blue and his hair was blond and curly. Azelma noted (with a smile) that he seemed to have a half dazed expression on his face. Maybe he was the same Marius who had lived next door to them in his own grotty little room. The same Marius Eponine had talked about day after day. He had to be, after all he had mentioned Eponine's name. Azelma glanced around, he seemed to have done well for himself.

Again Marius turned to Cosette and put his hands on her waist. She shook them off.

"Cosette, please," he begged. "I'm sorry."

She still wouldn't look at him. His hands went to her waist again, and this time tried to turn her so she was facing him.

"Cosette... look at me" he pleaded as she fought against him.

"WILL YOU LET ME GO!!" she screamed right into his face.

In shock he dropped his hands and she ran down the corridor.

Azelma quickly scrambled back to bed. "What a marriage!" she exclaimed to herself. Hadn't Eponine said how in love they were? Azelma wondered what could have happened to turn these two against each other.

Chapter Four
And We Will Be Together Every Day

Azelma's illness passed during the night, and she slept soundly for the first time in years. A kind maid named Nicole saw that whatever she wanted was brought to her.

"Monsieur Marius is away for a few days," she told Azelma one morning. "But he has been informed that you're better and is very excited about coming home to see you."

"Has Cosette gone with him?"

Nicole frowned. "No, I don't think so."

"Are they happy?"

"How do you mean?"

"I mean in their marriage," Azelma tried to explain.

"What have you heard?" Nicole took on a defensive tone.

Azelma told her what she had witnessed through the keyhole.

Nicole looked around as though there may have been people listening, and sighed. "I suppose there can't be any harm in telling you, you're only a child."

Azelma sat up intently.

Nicole began. "You ask any servant here and they'll tell you. There was never a couple so in love as those two. He was so kind, and she was so loving. They were perfectly matched, and did everything together. But then her father died. You have to understand that Madame and her father were very close, closer than any father and daughter I'd ever seen. When he died she went to pieces for about six months -- wouldn't talk to anyone. We were so worried, but we all thought that if anyone could help her it would be Monsieur Marius. But after those six months, as if by magic, any love she had for him was gone. He still worships her, and tries so hard -- bless his heart -- to bring that love back. But it's gone, as have all her sweet ways. She's not the woman he married anymore."

There was a pause, then Azelma said, "Poor Marius."

"Yes, that poor man." Nicole's eyes shone and Azelma detected that she felt very strongly on the matter of Marius.

"Nicole? You don't... love him do you?"

Nicole jumped. "Of course not... silly girl!" she said with a smile. "I merely admire him"

Azelma didn't believe her.

Nicole was her favourite servant, and the one she most frequently asked for. She was tall, blonde and seemed very fragile. She spoke softly, and her mannerisms were incredibly feminine. Azelma guessed she was around twenty years old, and (as the servants said) very much like Cosette had been before her father died.

Three days later when Azelma awoke, Marius was sitting by her bed.

"Hello, Azelma," he said with a smile. "I'm Marius Pontmercy. I doubt you remember me."

"I do. You lived next door to us in those awful rooms."

"Yes, yes, that's right. You remember!"

Out of her feverish state Azelma could take in his features better. He was handsome, she admitted that, even if the dazed expression was still there. His face was kind, and he seemed to really care about her. She looked behind him and saw Cosette. She was beautiful -- lily-white skin, bright blue eyes and that lovely hair. But on her face was a disgusted expression, which she covered with an awkward smile when she saw Azelma looking at her.

Realising she hadn't spoken for a while, she remembered her manners and thanked Marius for looking after her.

His face lit up as though she had paid him the greatest compliment in the world. "Oh, it was my pleasure!" he paused, and caught Cosette's hand. She scowled and pulled her fingers free. A hurt expression crossed his face and he clasped his hands together in his lap.

Azelma gave him a pitying look, which he replied to with a smile.

"In fact Cosette and I would like it if you could stay here."

"Stay here?"

"Yes."

She paused. He seemed nice enough, but the woman.... she glanced to see Cosette's look of disgust again. This time no fake smile covered it up. Marius had obviously not consulted her on Azelma staying.

"Please," Marius said, his expression earnest.

Azelma studied him. Why was he so desperate to help her? The question flitted through her mind, but she didn't want to upset this man who already had so much hurt in his life.

"Yes," she replied.

"He always wanted a daughter," Nicole told her that night. "Always. We were looking forward to having a little girl around the place, but then..."

Azelma looked up from her supper plate. "Then what?"

"Madame had a terrible fall. It was after her father... she and Monsieur Marius were so excited. And they planned the rooms and..."

Azelma interupted. "Cosette was pregnant?"

"Yes, four months gone when she fell from the carriage."

Nicole was making no sense to Azelma. "So Cosette was pregnant, but she lost it?"

"Yes, so sad."

"That explains a lot," Azelma said. "Why Cosette is so mean, why he wants to take me in.s"

"I would have made him happier," Nicole said to herself. Her tone was so like Eponine's that Azelma spun around.

Chapter Five
Every Day I'm Learning

A month had passed. Azelma now slept in the room intended for Jean Valjean. Marius had warned her never to speak of the man in front of Cosette because it "upsets her so". Now she knew a little more, she could pity Cosette to an extent -- she still disliked her. But Marius she loved like a brother. He could be mischievous and funny, always joking with her and Nicole. But he didn't seem to see the yearning in Nicole's eyes. There were many strange things about the house however -- most of them involving Cosette. She always wore black. Such beautiful dresses, but no other colour but black. The new wardrobe she had bought for Azelma consisted of only black clothes. And some things upset Azelma. Like the way Cosette would never look at Marius, the way she always jumped away when he touched her and the way she always pulled her hand from his reach. Looks of such pain would cross Marius's face that Azelma wanted to slap some colour into Cosette's white cheeks.

Azelma thought for a moment that she might finally of found a place to belong, she thought that her search of happiness was over. But Cosette put a stop to that.

She had awoken in a foul mood. She'd snapped at Marius twice and wandered about in a dream.

Azelma was eating supper with Marius. She still only ate small portions, too much would upset her stomach. She quietly mentioned something about changing the decoration in her room.

Marius went ashen white and looked behind him. "Cosette's father's room?"

"Yes it's so masculine. I would like--"

"Ssssh! You can't!"

"But Monsieur Pontmercy.."

"I've told you a thousand times call me Marius please."

"Marius, I don't like it. I feel wrong sleeping there. It's an ugly room. I--"

Someone stamped their foot in the doorway. Marius looked up and turned almost green. Azelma was grabbed by the shoulder, and shaken hard.

"You ungrateful wretch!" Cosette hissed in her ear. "How dare you!"

"Cosette," Marius protested weakly.

"You shouldn't even be here! Just because Marius thinks he's in some debt to your father... which by the way has been repaid."

"It hasn't, not nearly enough," Marius said, jumping up to pull her off Azelma.

"IT HAS!" she screamed, then addressed Azelma. "You're here because your father saved Marius's father's life. He doesn't care for you."

"COSETTE!" Marius cried, tugging at her arm.

"Not at all. Not one bit" she spat, before shaking Marius's grip off her arm.

Azelma sprung from her chair like a frightened animal. Marius called her name, but she ran from the room.

Chapter Six
A World That's Full of Happiness That I Have Never Known

Azelma ran.

She ran through the streets, she ran and ran. She heard Marius follow her a little way, but she knew these streets like the back of her hand. She'd lost him when she darted through some side streets.

Azelma ran.

He didn't care, never had. He'd pretended to love her and he didn't. And to think she'd felt sorry for him! She wished she could have stayed to say goodbye to Nicole though, she would miss her.

Azelma ran.

She ended up on top of a bridge, one she'd slept under as a child. Her breath came out in pants, and she leaned over the railing. She pulled at her pocket, and grabbed at her pictures. She searched through them, and took out the drawing of Eponine. With a flick of her wrist, she flung the others into the water. She knew that water well, it was deep and black at this point.

She addressed the picture. "Well, 'Ponine, this is it. Someone else has betrayed me. I thought he was as nice as you said he was, and he betrayed me. All my life I've been in search of happiness. You were the only one I found it with and you left me."

With a small half smile on her face, she sat of the railing. She leaned forward and let herself fall into the centre of her pictures. She made no struggle and sunk.

Chapter Seven
You Would Live a Hundred Years If I Could Show You How

A few minutes afterwards Marius burst onto the banking. "Azelma!" he cried, seeing her floating face down in the water.

He dived in, and swam towards her. Clutching her tiny frame close to him, he pulled her back to the bank.

"Azelma," he said, cradling her close. "Don't die. It's not the debt, it was at first, but now it's not. I care, I really do. Don't die."

But she stayed still and silent.

He called her name many more times, but then he realised. She was dead. He gently kissed her forehead, and lay her down. Her hand was clenched into a fist still. He prised her hand open, and saw she was still clutching the drawing of Eponine.

Epilogue

Two girls sat in their little room in Montreuil-sur-mer. It was the middle of the night and they whispered so not to wake their parents in the room above.

The elder girl held up two bracelets. "This one's for you, and this one's for me."

"What are they for?"

"They're special. To say that we'll always be together."

"Always?"

"Always. I'll look after you, 'Zelma."

The younger girl sniffed. "And you won't leave me?"

"Never, and if I do we'll find each other. Somehow."

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