A/N: I wanted an explanation, so I made one up. Here's my take on Quasi's immaculate conception.


Merle did not usually visit the cathedral. She had been, for a gypsy, very lucky up to now. However, this was her moment of need and she sought guidance from the one most qualified to give it.

"I do not know how to pray, Lord. I have never had need to do so before, but I do now. My love, the only man for whom I have ever cared, wishes me to bear him a child. I want a son as well, but although we have tried I find myself—incapable. Please, Lord, if You have any mercy in Your heart for one who has for so long ignored you, allow me a child."

Merle stood, and began to wander aimlessly through the halls of Notre-Dame. She found herself drawn to a staircase, hidden in an alcove behind a pillar, and followed it. When she reached the top she discovered that it was a dusty, cluttered room where unused statues were stored. Running her fingers over the face of a saint, she picked her way through the debris until she found the balcony.

What a sight! The entire city lay out before her like the loveliest of paintings. For the first time she realized just how small one gypsy was, and now unlikely that God would see fit to grant her prayer among all others.

For all its improbability, however, God seemed to be in her favor, for before her very eyes a miracle took place. The greatest of the gargoyles on the ledge, a seven-foot reptilian monstrosity with gargantuan wings and knowing eyes, stretched its snakelike neck and gazed silently at her. Merle, shocked, took a step away, only to hear a smooth, lilting alto calling her name.

"Hello, Merle."

With a jump, she realized that the gargoyle was the one addressing her. "Y-yes?"

The beast shifted, sliding off of the rail to rest before her on the balcony. "Do not be afraid, little one. I am a guardian of the church—it is not my business to harm one who means no harm herself."

Merle fell into a shaking curtsy. "Then who are you, O marvelous creature?"

"I have gone by many names in the past, but you may call me Armel." His long tail coiled about his feet. "It is not names, however, which I am here to discuss. I know of your wish for a child, and I can grant it."

"Surely you cannot," she cried, surprised. This beast was going to help her?

"I can," he rumbled, "But there is a price to pay."

"Anything!" she said immediately, clasping her hands. "I will pay all that I have!"

"Listen before you agree," he told her, and sat back like a great scaly, stone lion. "Your fate and the child's do not run together for long. Should you accept, should you acquiesce to bearing this child, you will be separated."

Merle bit her lip, and then straightened. "Will his life be good?"

"He will see many troubles," Armel said, "But he shall forge strong friendships and be hailed by all the city. He will bring purity and happiness to many, and much joy to the gypsies."

"Very well," Merle said firmly, balling her fists, "So be it. If I know that he will live well and bring light to others, the pain of our parting will not be so great. I would rather know him for a day than not at all."

Armel nodded slowly. "It shall be done," He produced a small vial filled with silver fluid and handed it to her. "Place this vial in a basket of snow for three hours, then drink it in two swallows. You will soon be with child."

She smiled happily. "Oh, thank you Armel! Thank you ever so!" And she was gone.

Armel gazed after her. "It is a sad thing which I have just done."

"Do not tell yourself that," murmured a quiet feminine voice behind him. He turned to see Chantal standing there, smiling softly. "It was necessary. We all knew it."

Chantal was a lovely creature. Perhaps mortals would have seen it differently, but he saw her beauty. A great serene lioness with wings identical to his and wicked talons for claws. She was his mate—an honorary term among gargoyles, since they were incapable of actually reproducing. Her stone head rested against his wing and she purred.

"Nonetheless," he replied, "I should have told her the truth. I should have told her that she would die."

"It would have made no difference," Chantal crooned. "She would have agreed anyway. You just let her remain unaware of the ugliness of her fate. It was a good thing you did."

"That was not my only dishonesty," Armel lamented. "She will not bear her husband's child, but mine! That was my blood in that vial, this we both know. The infant will be deformed, half-human."

"Half-human, perhaps, but half-gargoyle as well! The youngling will have your strength in him, and that is also important."

Armel sighed. "Maybe you are right, but it pains me that I will not be here to protect him. Why must we go?"

"Because," Chantal told him, "It is the wish of our Lord. We are His angels, and must obey. Trust that He has good reason, dearest, please!"

The great stone creature hung his head. "I trust in His judgment. I obey His will."

"Good," she said, smiling sadly. "Laverne is your most trusted advisor. He will take good care of your son when the mother passes."

"He will."

Armel and Chantal gazed across the city one last time then spread their stone wings and took flight. There were many other cathedrals in France, and more in the other beautiful countries of the world. They would find another place to call their home, and trust in Notre-Dame and its keepers to care for the child who would one day come to live there.


Name meanings:

Merle: blackbird

Armel: stone prince

Chantal: stony place

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this. It was a lot of fun finding names for everyone, and he ones I found just fit perfectly. I had some other contenders, like Masson (stoneworker), but eventually decided on Armel because it sounded nobler.