Notre Dame of Panem
Inspired by the novel The Hunchback of Notre Dame written by Victor Hugo, and the homonymous film adaptation made by Disney.
Summary: Rue is the bell-ringer of the cathedral of Notre Dam, a lonely girl with a deforming scar in her face. Raised by the misogynous and racist Minister of Justice, Coriolanus Snow, she was made to believe she was undeserving of love. But an escapade to the Festival of Fools would lead her to meet a silver-eyed dancer who would open her eyes to the world outside the cathedral. First part of Notre Dame of Panem, written for Prompts in Panem, Day four: Green.
Trigger warnings: Contains violence, death of major character, sexual content and sexual abuse. It also refers to issues related to LGBT-themes, racism and rape culture.
Part 1: Rue, the lonely bell-ringer.
The sun is up and so I am. It's almost time for the first ring of the bells so I need to hurry if I don't want to be late. And I can't be late.
I take the shortcut through the cathedral roof, sliding between the gargoyles and saluting them on my way to work. "Hello, Thresh," I say to the big one, with a serious expression. "Hello, Chaff," I say to the one missing a hand that seems to smirk my way. "Hello, Seeder," I say to the one with the pretty eyes, almost feminine.
I arrive to the bell tower with enough time to spare and I watch the sunrise. The colors in the sky and the fresh, cool air make my heart swell. Our beautiful city of Panem, a familiar face, yet unknown in so many ways. Because, even though I have seen the same landscape for my entire 17 years old life, I have never left the cathedral.
I sigh and turn to the bells. I like ringing the bells. I feel like it's my way to communicate with the rest of the world, even if I've never actually meet it. Because, although none of the citizens of Panem know my name, they live following the pace of my bells. They wake with the first ringing of the day, the go to work with the second, the know it's time for lunch by the time the fifth comes along, and it's the last ringing the one who marks the bed-time for the pious.
Once the four-note music fades in the awakening city, I return to my chambers. I can't take my shortcut at this time since someone might see me, but I avoid the rest of the people of the church nonetheless. I've been told that none of them wants to see me, which, considering my ugly outside, is understandable. My master, the benevolent Minister of Justice Coriolanus Snow, is the only one who dares to see my disgusting face. He told me once that he is afraid of people thinking the huge, deforming scar over my forehead and left eye is a mark of the devil and will ask for me to be sentenced to the bonfire.
By the time I return to my chambers, it's already time for my first meal, so I prepare the table and tidy up the place. A little coo distracts me from my chores and I run to the window. A small little bird has his small paw trapped in the edge of the window. I approach it slowly, my hands in his line of vision, until it learns to trust me and stops trying to escape. I smile while caressing the soft fathers of his back. Then, quickly but carefully, I release it and the beautiful bird flies away.
I look at it for a moment, elevated over the grandiose city, completely free. I wish I could have wings that could take me as high and far as they take them. I wish I were a bird instead of this horrible monster, who has to live in hiding, who lives in fear.
"Have you been slacking this morning, you careless creature?" the voice rings in my ears and my mind freezes. I turn quickly, but not making eye contact. I don't want to upset him more than I already did. "What excuse do you have to not be studying already?" he questions me.
"I apologize, your grace," I breathe out, careful not to raise my voice too much. "There was a bird in the window and…"
"Enough of that nonsense," he interrupts me. "Eat your breakfast quickly so we can start with our lesson. I must go earlier today and you're making me waste precious time."
I run to the table, almost knocking it but managing to catch everything on time. I still don't look at the Master, even though the fact that he has to leave earlier slims the chances of a punishment for today.
I eat my meal in silence, not daring to lift my face from the table. I hear my master tapping his foot against the wooden floor and sighing.
"My unsullied beast, you don't know how fortunate you are to be here in this precious sanctuary. You're absolutely oblivious of the marvelous gift that I have given you by keeping you pure, untainted from the outside world," the master ponders.
"There're so many temptations outside the cathedral walls, my creature. And a deformed monster like you would have no option but to succumb to the ways of the devils and his minions, the gypsies."
"I value so much all the things you do for me, your grace," I dare to say. "And it speaks of your immense misericord that you give so much to an unworthy beast like myself."
I look up and see the master nodding, pursing his puffy red lips in deep though. "It does, indeed. It speaks volumes of my benevolent nature. But it is because of that same reason that I must protect you from the decadence that falls all over Panem."
He stands and I finish eating the last of my old piece of bread. After, I swiftly clean the table and go looking for my books to start my studies. As part of his gift to me, to save me from the flames of hell and the eternal damnation, I've been educated and I know how to read and write. Everyday I must read from the Bible and some other books the master brings me to feed my spirit.
"I, on the other hand, must attend to the epitome of decadence, obligated due to my high rank position. Festival of Fools is an appropriate name indeed for such a ridiculous display of sinfulness," he whines. "But, enough nonsense, my creature. Read me what you've got there! On this day, more than any other, we need to listen to something holy."
—·—
When the master leaves I find myself restless. Every year I watch the Festival of Fools from the security of the bell tower, where I can hear the music and see most of the shows without exposing my self to be discovered.
But today I want to go and see everything from up close. People drink a lot on this day and there's a big chance no one will notice me. I am supposed to never leave this cathedral for my own protection, but I have always dreamed of going to sing and dance with the rest of Panem.
Even if it is only for a day.
I climb down through the side of the cathedral, hoping nobody can see me and trusting that if the gargoyles don't conceal me enough, that the festivities will do it instead. The closer I am to the ground, the louder I can hear the tumult of the streets and faster my heart jumps in my chest.
The moment my feet touch the ground, my stomach drops. I did it. Even if I climb right up and go back to my studies, even if the master never finds out about my escape, I can't undo this. I am disobeying him, dishonoring his trust when he has done so much for me.
I really am a hideous, repulsive monster.
I am about to climb back up when I hear children running towards me. They can see me. If they can see me then I go back, because they would see it and alert their parents. I panic. One of them has noticed me and it's starting to walk my way. I adjust the hoodie of my coat and run in the other direction.
I find myself in the middle of the celebration. The Festival of Fools is the most popular festivity in Panem, the only day when it's allowed to dress up in shiny colors and express yourself in anyway you want, without the Peacekeepers detaining you for bad misconduct. The view of the dances and hollering is very different from what I've seen years before up in the bell tower.
But not only the people changes, the city transforms in its entirely. The square is decorated in paper of various colors and they put up a makeshift stage, where some people do different types of shows to entertain the crowd. Gypsies mostly run the Festival, another reason for my master to despise the holiday.
This extravagantly handsome man, dress in a ridiculous outfit that intents to portray him as a half fish-man of sorts, is shouting what sounds like poetry. But his poetry sounds nothing like the poetry master Snow has brought to my chambers for me to read. His words speak of skin and fire, of color and desire. His words make my body tremble in fascination and fear at the same time.
This is the temptation his grace always talked about.
I adjust my hoodie and move out of the crowd, trying to put the more distance I can between the decadent man and I.
Suddenly I collide with a small animal, which lets out a bleat in protest. "Careful, friend. You don't want to be kick by a goat. Trust me, I should know," a musical voice rings next to me. I turn, careful not to show my face, and find myself staring at a lean and gorgeous girl, clad in a red sparkly dress. Her hair is dark like her skin, the perfect tone to resemble an olive about to ripe. Her eyes shine and dance, with an impossible tone of silver, trying to look through the hoodie.
"And now, the main show of the evening!" the voice of the poet resonates in the square. The girl sobers up and makes a little reverence as a good bye, before diving into the crowd. "The ever beautiful and positively dazzling, Silver."
The man jumps to the back of the stage, which suddenly seems to be covered in smoke. People cheer, completely unconcerned that there must be a fire in the middle of the show. I am about to run to the cathedral when I see her. The gorgeous girl I run into not a minute ago, emerging from the smoke, all in red, like she was a flame itself.
The image is overwhelming as it is, but then the music starts. The guitar resonates, and the man from before sings with a raspy voice a lonely song about lost loved ones. The girl starts moving then, following rhythmically the accords, and her dress sparkles with every move she makes giving the illusion of real fire encasing her slim and gracious body.
I am unable to move from my spot, dazzled by the elegance of her dancing, the curves of her body and the sparkle of her silvery eyes that seem to outshine the dress itself. Her hands snake around her body, in a never-ending ritual. Suddenly, I feel the urge to dance with her, to hold her, to…
I look away, feeling sinful. I don't even know what my feelings means, but it can't be a good thing. I must go back to the cathedral before I am detoured by the devil and get lost forever. The words of my master are still haunting inside my head, taunting me about this huge mistake. Of course, I could not handle being in this festival, filled with people that could never look at me and say the sinful things the buffoon recited.
I try to take the route I came from, but a bunch of Peacekeepers are blocking my way, so I turn around and decide to go to the other side, behind the make-shifted stage. I move fast, careful not to run into people and to avoid them looking at me directly.
When I reach the back of the stage, I see the girl again. Silver, my mind whispers, like it's a sacred word, filled with magic. She stands with the buffoon, who is trying unsuccessfully to hide his laughter.
"Don't laugh at me, Finnick," she complains with that sweet musical voice. "I think everyone could see my undergarments…"
"Well, that's probably why they cheered so loudly," laughs the buffoon—Finnick, apparently.
I can see her scowl at him and I smile. The buffoon is ridiculous good-looking and yet, the silver-eyed dancer seems unfazed by him.
I pass them by as fast as I can to run to the security of the cathedral. I am about to get there, when something bright catches my eye. It's a red shawl. The shawl Silver had on her shoulders just before the show. I look at her and her partner Finnick, absorbed in deep conversation, completely unaware of my presence.
It happens in a second. I go and grab the shawl and I am about to hide it under my coat, when a deep voice stops me on my tracks: "Don't move a muscle, you filthy little thief"
I look up to find a pair of severe deep blue eyes staring at me. They are unyielding, condemning, filled with a certain fire that demands to follow his authority. And, on top of that, a white uniform that signals him not only as a Peacekeeper, but as the Head of them.
"My lady," he says, looking above me to where Silver must be standing. "This thief was trying to steal your shawl."
And as he says that, his hand lifts and torns the hood of my coat, revealing to him and the three guards behind him, my hideous and scarred face. The other Peacekeepers gasp in disgust. The Head Peacekeeper takes a small step back in surprise but doesn't react otherwise.
"Captain Mellark," Silver run towards us. She looks at me briefly, without any sign of disgust at the sight of my features. She takes the shawl from him. "I don't think it's necessary to involve the justice into this," she murmurs, only intended for him to hear. But the Peacekeepers behind the Captain laugh.
"Mind your own business, show girl," one of them spits. "And be thankful of the Captain's benevolence for not taking you to justice, filthy gypsy".
The guards laugh at that, but the Captain furrows his brow, ignoring the comment.
"Peacekeeper Marvel, please take the prisoner to the Justice Building," the Captain says over the laughter, killing it. "His grace, Master Coriolanus Snow will see her punishment."
"Captain, please, there must be a way to overlook this," Silver cries behind me. But I am already being pulled to the crowd in direction of the Justice Building. Around me, without the protection of my hood, people stare at me. They make faces of disgust and disapproval. I lower my face, looking at the ground, but the Peacekeeper forces me to look forward.
"Let everybody look at that repugnant face, monster," he spits my way.
Soon after that, people start to scream obscenities in my face and throwing garbage my way. I can hear the guards laughing at me. But even this humiliation doesn't scare me. I know that my master will hear about my transgression now. And his punishment will be much worst that some rotten tomatoes.
—·—
When I enter the Justice Building I don't do it through the main entrance. They shove me through a back door, and then hose me down with cold water, washing away the rotten fruit of my clothes and body. I hear them laughing at me while they do it, probably trying to aim at my face purposefully to not let me breathe.
When they are done humiliating me, they pull me up and force me to stand. It's so cold inside this dark building and my wet clothes stick to my body uncomfortably. "You have some curves under those rags, huh? Well, I could have some fun with you," Peacekeeper Marvel sneers at me, "if I put a paper bag over your head."
He laughs and the other guards follow him. "She is so ugly. I would not touch her with a stick," another one quips.
They make fun of me while we go up some stairs, the stone resonating in the empty space. I try to focus on the sound of their boots instead of his words, or conveying in my head the image of Silver, dancing in the square. Finally, they lead me to a huge room, decorated in only grey statues that seem to stare at me, condemning me like Captain Mellark did.
"Your grace," Peacekeeper Marvel raises his voice. "We found this repugnant creature stealing in the Festival of Fools. Captain Mellark decided we should bring her to you, to decide her punishment."
"Well, that was very wise of the Captain," his voice resonates through the room. I can barely see him, up high in an ornate podium, but his expression of disappointment is unmistakable. "What did she steal?" he asks.
The guard mumbles something in his breathe but covers it with a cough, while the other Peacekeepers disguise their laughter. "Some shawl from a filthy gypsy, your grace," he explains.
My master looks at me with pure disdain. A thief. That is what I have become after all he had done for me. I can almost hear him in my head. I lower my head waiting for his punishment. Probably it will be a week of only a sip of water and a meager piece of bread to achieve constriction.
"I hereby sentence you to be flogged in the public square and turned on the pillory for one hour, followed by another hour of public exposure" he declares.
"NO!" I scream in fear. I know better that to go against him, but I don't want to face the people of Panem once again. And the whip scares me to death. My master has hit me with a stick when I have deserved it, but a flogging… I start to tremble in fear. "Please, your grace. Please, have some mercy. I apologize. It was a mistake. Please, master, please!"
"How dare you talk to me, an authority invested in power by God himself, with such familiarity, you monstrosity? Take her out my site, Peacekeeper Marvel! Now!" he screams.
I cry desperately. I lost my master, the only person who had protected me in this world that rejects me. I am totally alone. I cry harder, screaming my pleas, until the guards start to hit me to shut me up. Eventually I stop crying, when a feeling of total despair fills my heart. I deserve this. So I must await my punishment.
And maybe after, my master will forgive me.
—·—
They keep me in a cold cell for the night, but at least I am alone. I hear other people in adjoining cells, some of them whining, some of the, crying, all of them scared. I stay quiet, pondering how different things would have been if I had listened to my master, if I had stayed in my chambers and studied like I was supposed to.
Eventually I sleep for a couple of hours, only to wake up to the noise of the gate opening. Another Peacekeeper grabs me unceremoniously from my arm and drags me out of the cell. We walk the dark passages in silence, only our footsteps being the testimony of our walk.
By the time we reach the square, I see it's well after sunrise. For a moment there I wonder if the bells of the cathedral were not ranged today, if someone missed my absence. But the bells ring in that instant, like mocking me for thinking there was something I was needed for in this world.
The silent Peacekeeper ties my hands to the pole and lifts my face to face the crowd that has formed. People look at me with apprehension, fear on their eyes clear. If it is there because of my physical appearance or because of my crimes, I will never know.
I feel movement behind me and grit my teeth, bracing myself for the blow. I try to look impassive, take my punishment with courage like a pious person would, to be deserving of forgiveness. But nothing prepares me for the scorching pain I feel in my back once the whip makes its way to my flesh. A whimper escapes my mouth and I see through my tears how the people in front of me wince.
I barely have recover from the first lash, when another one hits me. I blatantly scream now. I can't see anything, from the unshed tears, but I hear people murmuring near me. And then, I hear the sound of the whip hitting my flesh again. And again, and again, until I lose count of how many times it has hit me.
Everything is pain. I'm at complete overdrive, like my only thought is how bad this hurts. Nothing else exists, not my arms, or my head or my legs. I am only an open wound in my back, screaming for the flogging to stop, for a little reprieve.
It finally stops but my back still burns with pain. I feel myself being dragged and thrown into the pillory, where they secure my hands and head. I hear myself sob while people around me keep on murmuring. Some of them toss rotten fruit at me again, but most of them seem to be silently judging me.
An undefined period of time passes, one that feels like an eternity, and I start to feel hot and thirsty. The sun hits me directly in the face and the sweat drips from me to the ground. The position in the pillory is more than uncomfortable, it's exhausting and I feel about to faint several times.
"Water!" I scream to the faceless mass of people in front of me. Something is wrong with my vision, because I can only see bright spots and silhouettes. "Water, please!" I scream again.
And then a shadow covers me. I open my eyes and look up, expecting the angel of death to have come to take me. It is a celestial face what stares back at me, but of an earthly angel of music and beauty. My silver-eyed dancer gazes at me with a look full of sorrow and compassion.
She lifts up her arm and I try to recoil from her touch, fearing she has come to punish me also, but instead she gives me a glass of water to drink from. I gulp the water down eagerly and she smiles sadly. "My name is Katniss," she whispers to me, "but people call me Silver because of my eyes." She takes off her shawl, the very same I tried to 'steal' the day before, and cleans my face with it, dabbing it in water. The feeling is so refreshing that the clouds filling my mind start to dissipate a little. "You can call me Katniss, though. What is your name?"
"Rue," I let out in a raspy voice that sounds nothing like my own.
She smiles at me. "That's a beautiful name…"
"That is enough!" I hear a growl in the distance. Katniss turns and looks at the Justice Building, where master Snow is looking at us in anger. "You're interfering with a sentence, gypsy. Step away from the pillory!"
"Only when you release this poor girl!" she screams, a defiant look in her eyes. "She has completed her sentence already! Let her go!"
"How dare you to question my authority? Don't you know who you are talking to?" Snow's face is contorted in anger and with a flicker of something undecipherable.
"Oh, everybody knows who you are, your grace! You're the reason this city is perishing to hunger and fear!" she screams back at him. Master Snow smiles at that, but it is not a smile of happiness or amusement. It's a promised of a punishment.
"Captain, arrest that girl! Now!" The Captain looks at Katniss with fear in his eyes, but moves towards her nonetheless.
"Good luck, Rue!" she whispers to my ear after kissing my cheek and then runs into the crowd, getting lost in the sea of people. The Captain tries to follow her, but eventually looses her and calls the rest of the Peacekeepers to do a search party. The multitude dissipates eventually revealing that she has managed to escape.
I smile, wishing I could touch the spot her lips graced my cheek.
END OF FIRST PART
A.N: Hello again! I am so happy to share this with you and I have to thank my friend C for being my beta, once again. This fanfiction is split in four parts, each one with a different POV. Tomorrow is Peeta's, so hopefully we'll meet again. Thanks for reading! Love, Natalia.