Here is my first true story to the Hunchback of Notre Dane fanbase. This story will be a blend of book, The Hunchback 1997 TV film (I think I saw this before the Disney one to be honest) and of course the Disney film. I own none of them, all of these products belong to their respective owners. I have no BETAer for this chapter, which acts as a prologue, except myself so if there any mistakes just let them be known to be and I will change. This story will be Quasi and Original Character romance, but it will focuses more than just their relationship. So, please enjoy this story.
Crisp, autumn evening air swirled around t he young student, Pierre Grinoire, as he hurried down the narrow Parisian streets. The bustling city crowds were thinning as everyone headed to their homes while the grand Notre Dame Cathedral rang its beautiful bells. Moving through the rows of the simple, three story houses he thought back on the lectures his teacher had given on the changing world. The plain woodwork of the tenements seem to be inadequate to the grandeur of the gothic brilliance of the old structures.
Pierre continued to muse on the subject to himself as he strode over to the familiar sign of Rene Benoit's inn, his residence for the last few months. It might not be grand, but the rent is manageable and that-
A muffled cry roused him from his thoughts.
Startled, he, pushed a few stray pieces of brown hairs from his eyes, and looked up and down the lane, only seeing a few couples left out in the open.
"Hello?" He called softly. "Who's there?"
No response came. It was as though a frightened hush had fallen over the already quiet street. Looking up and down the lane, Pierre listened, but the only lingering sounds were the straggling couples who had not gone in for the night. Had he just imagined it? It would not have been impossible given his habit of daydreaming even sometimes during his teacher's classes of science or medicine.
A few ideas had already sprung to mind for the possible source of the strange noise for it was too early for the rougher nightlife of the city to begin. His fingers itched for a pen as a more concrete idea formed in his mind. Turning, he moved over to the dull brown door of the inn, he resided in, and placed a hand on the doorknob.
The muffled cry sounded again….only lightly louder than before.
Again, Pierre stepped back from the door, peering back and forth down the street.
"Is someone there?" He called out; his voice seeming to echo in the stillness that followed.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shape move into the light before shrinking back into the darkness of a nearby alley. He frowned. Was it merely a stray beast looking for some scraps after all his wild imaginations? Benoit's wife on occasion was known for leaving old milk out on the coldest of nights, despite her husband's protests, for the homeless creatures. Had one of them come early this time in some hope to find the chipped dish?
Crouching down, he faced the alley and clicked his tongue lightly. "Here…kitty…here…kitty...I won't hurt you…."
A new sound came forth this time…a lighter sound almost like a giggle….with a distinct human and female quality to it.
Pierre grinned softly and kept his voice low. "Does kitty find something funny?"
"Me…no cat," a timid voice replied.
Pierre squinted trying to make out any shapes from the shadows. A shuffling of feet met his ears and two large hazel eyes stared at him for a moment.
"I won't hurt you," he said again. He silently watched as the creature inched forward until she stepped into small patch of light offered by the upper rooms of inn. In such a dim light, her more physical features were concealed expect her small height and the ragged cloths which covered her. A knot of pity swelled in his heart as he studied her.
"Are you well, child?" Pierre knelt down to the child's level.
The girl shrank back a cough soon racking her mall frame.
"I see and where are your Mama and Papa?"
The child continued to shrink further into herself. "Mama…she no wake… and Papa gone."
Pierre grimaced, tightening his cloak around himself to protect himself from the wind. He glanced back at the inn and sighed. No matter the reasoning, the innkeeper did not allow the 'filth' of the streets even darken the doorway of his respectable inn. Pierre, himself, had witnessed the man knock a child down into the mud for not leaving his sight fast enough. What would the man do to this child when he found Pierre did not have the coin to keep her? The innkeeper's reason said that an honorable gentleman would go inside, throw a few scraps of food to her, and be done with her.
And yet to dismiss the child from his presence would leave her vulnerable to the beggars, gypsies, and other scoundrels who were known to rule the night while Paris slept. How could he sentence an innocent child to that? Oh what would his teacher tell him to do? Surely he would have an answer. Perhaps the girl could go into a convent of some kind.
Tentatively, he reached out his hand toward her. "Will you come with me, mademoiselle? My name is Pierre Gringiore."
After a moment, he felt a small, but rough hand slide into his. Pierre patted her hand lightly in reassurance before he turned and began to lead her back through the winding streets. Only minutes later, the strange pair stood back in front of large doors to the cathedral's large library, which at times doubled as a schoolroom for the most scholarly of men, holding all the treasures of the written word in thick, leather bond tombs. Some that were even know being painstaking being transcribed by the holy priests.
Pierre wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders and knocked at the office door. Only a moment later, the door creaked open.
A grim face came into view, his dark eyebrows raised in question. "What is this, Monsieur? You know what time it is. Surely your questions could wait until morning."
Pierre bowed slightly. "Pardon me, Monsieur Frollo, but in all good conscious I could not wait. Will you not hear me out?"
His teacher watched him for a moment longer before opening the door further.
Pierre nodded in gratitude and stepped inside, nearly dragging the girl with him. The room he entered was sparse of any adornments beyond an old desk and a wall of shelves filled with numerous books. A single tall window looked out onto the square gave the only sign of possible life in these cramped quarters. Though if Pierre was honest, there was a calming quality to it. A place where the mind could wonder if it chose or concentrate on penning the ideas which raced about his poet's mind.
Frollo's voice cut through the daydreamer's mind. "What in heavens is…you dare to…"
Pierre turned back to face his old teacher. Donned in the brown robes of a priest and surrounded by the books, his teacher appeared at the most ease rather than his more formal costume for his lectures.
Pierre shifted, squeezing the girls' shoulders again in reassurance. "She is with me and is only a child…I think perhaps six or seven. I found her in the streets near Monsieur Benoit's inn tonight and she would not release me and so I came here."
Frollo frowned and shifted, keeping his eyes on Pierre. "So, who is this?"
Pierre peered down at her, finally able to see her properly. The little girl's face had darkened from the sun, but her hazel eyes held the innocence of child unhardened by the life of streets. Her brown locks were unkempt and twisted into large knots. The shift had mistaken for rags was a true dark blue frock with the tiniest bit of embroidery along the hem.
"I don't know…" Pierre bent down. "What is your name?"
"Katherine." A small voice piped. "me name."
The little girl stared back at both of them unblinking, her tiny hands clasped in front of her in an unpolished imitation of a lady.
Frollo nodded thoughtfully after a moment. "At least it's a respectable name. I would advise you and her return to the inn tonight. Get her cleaned up and some food in her and then tomorrow you can set about the task of finding her some more permanent lodging with some family if you are so keen on her safety."
Pierre gazed at the small girl for a moment and nodded. "Oui, I think you are right. Merci, Monsieur."
Turning back to the girl….Katherine, he offered his hand once more. "Shall we go and get something to eat, ma pettie?"
Katherine looked back and forth between the two men. Her face was calm and composed, but her body had begun to tremble. Soon, her eyes settled on Pierre and she reached up, accepting his hand.
"Now what do you say to, Monsieur Frollo, Katherine?"
Katherine's eyes grew wide, but she looked back at the older man. Her voice barely a squeak when she spoke, "Merci, Monsiur."
Follo gave a brief nod in her direction before Pierre pulled her from the room. Back out in the main square, Pierre scooped the child up in his arms. Her thin arms wrapped around his neck and her head small to fit squarely in the crook of it as she snuggled against him. Pierre rubbed her back as they walked back toward the inn. "Would you like to hear a story?"
He felt her nod against him. Nodding in return, Pierre soon began to spin a yarn; his words even calming himself as they trudged back to the inn.
XxX
Cluade Frollo leaned against the door and shuddered. His previous student's compassionate and some ways idealistic personality would not allow the urchin to go anywhere that he did not deem safe. While Frollo loathed the heathens who told others of their powers to see into the future, he could picture the little imp of girl tying herself to Pierre's leg for years to come.
Frollo himself had no patience for the gentler sex, but most men were not immune to the seductive ways a woman or child brought into their lives. All of them falling to the same sin as Adam when he let himself be tricked by the deceitful Eve. Indeed, Pierre had already appeared captivated by the urchin. Oh what a fool his young student was and yet…
His gaze rose upwards toward the highest church rafters where a young boy was now slumbering. A pitiful…child he had found on the foundling bed and had taken in oh had it truly been six years ago. Was young Pierre not doing the same with the urchin who bore the name of a saint? Perhaps in time, she could become a faithful servant to the Lord if given the proper education. Though he doubted his young student would surrender to a convent now. Still, what harm could an urchin do?
I hope you enjoyed it. So, please let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is welcomed, but not useless flames and do not worry Quasi will appear soon. The idea that Frollo taught Pierre I found a site discussing the book and even if it may not be true the idea is to good to pass up and it will come into play later in terms of the relationships between these three characters.