ooc; Weee, it's been a while, huh? This is a new crack!pairing I've become throughly addicted to, and this is dedicated to Britt. 8D
For the record, I have no spellcheck at the moment. So please ignore all typos. I'll fix once I reinstall corel word perfect.
I own /nothing/.
Pairing; Nero the Sable / Zexion the Cloaked Schemer
Rating: Currently PG
"Morning in Paris, the city awakes
To the bells of Notre Dame
The fisherman fishes, the bakerman bakes
To the bells of Notre Dame
To the big bells as loud as the thunder
To the little bells soft as a psalm
And some say the soul of the city's
The toll of the bells
The bells of Notre Dame."
The melodious voice carried through the bustling marketplace, the singer seemingly oblivious to what was going on about him. Lyre in hand, dancing about a small play stand which had a rather large audience of wide-eyed children. Edward Chris von Muir knew how to draw in a crowd, oh most certainly. The towns folk blamed it on the gypsy spells that were supposedly preformed under the dark of night, no man could be that devilishly handsome without some unholy force behind it.
"Listen, they're beautiful, no?" He smiled, the bells ringing as they did every morning, setting the perfect air of peace and prosperity that drew his people here. "So many colors of sound, so many changing moods, Because you know, they don't ring all by themselves!"
"They don't?" Startled children gasped at him, a particularly loud child had gotten to his feet, wide-eyed. The foxish grin which crept across the blonde haired beauty's face was full of cunning, a secret knowledge.
"No, silly boy," his head tilted ever so slightly to the side, one arm extending to point towards the tall towers of Notre Dame. "Up there, high, high in the dark bell tower lives the mysterious bell ringer. Who is this creature?"
"Who?" The children parroted.
"What is he?" Edward breathed, voice dropping low and capturing their attention.
"What?" They whimpered in response.
"How did he come to be there?" The anticipation was almost tangible, those wide eyes threatening to pop out of his young audience's sockets.
"How?" They pleaded, their tone finally hitting the pitch he desired
"Hush, and Edward will tell you..." He sighed, sounding annoyed through it was quiet the opposite, actually. This tale could finally be told... The time was nearing!
"It is a tale, a tale of a man and a monster..."
Dark was the night when our tale was begun
On the docks near Notre Dame.
"Shut it up, will you!"
"We'll be spotted!"
"Hush, little one!"
Four frightened gypsies slid silently under
The docks near Notre Dame!
"Four guilders for safe passage into Paris," grunted the large Azul, clad entirely in blue. Beside him, Weiss attempted to soothe to soothe his sobbing newborn brother, keeping him carefully hidden from all prying eyes.
But a trap had been laid for the gypsies
And they gazed up in fear and alarm
At a figure whose clutches
Were iron as much as the bells
From above them, the figures in the shadows sprung out into the open. A thin, frail man sat atop a horse, a twisted smirk plastered across his face. He'd cornered his vermin, captured them, and now was just to claim his prize.
"Judge Victor Hojo," Argento breathed, visible eye widening in terror as the reality of the situation hit her. Both hands immediately moved, firmly grabbing Rosso's shoulders as they attempted to press back and look as inconspicuous as possible...
The bells of Notre Dame
Kyrie Eleison (Lord have mercy)
Judge Victor Hojo longed
To purge the world
Of vice and sin
Kyrie Eleison (Lord have mercy)
And he saw corruption
Ev'rywhere
Except within
"Bring these gypsy vermin to the palace of justice," Hojo spat, throwing his hand wildly out.
"You there, what are you hiding?" One soldier had jumped down to the boat. Azul moved, massive fist swinging out to keep the man away from the leader of the small band, but never quite got that far. A gunshot shattered whatever illusion of safety that may have remained. Azul's eyes rolled up into his head, body swaying before toppling out of the boat with a loud splash.
"Stolen goods, no doubt. Take them from her," Hojo mused, wicked grin still in place.
He ran
The albino gypsy did not waste another moment. He sprung to his feet, still clutching the bundle to his chest, and bolted out of the boat. A nearly in-human leap brought him to the crumbling shoreline, and the moment his feet hit solid ground he was off and running.
Dies irae, dies illa (Day of wrath, that day)
Solvet saeclum in favilla (Shall consume the world in ashes)
Teste David cum sibylla (As prophesied by David and the sibyl)
Quantus tremor est futurus (What trembling is to be)
Quando Judex est venturus (When the Judge is come)
And Weiss did not stop, as he heard the rapid hoof beats behind him. A scuffle sounded from the area of the docks, a sudden gunshot ringing out and another splash. He knew, oh how he'd known that Paris was just as corrupted as the other cities. It was not until a familiar building loomed ahead, that a familiar phrase snapped to his mind, did he even think about stopping. And even that, it wasn't until he had hit the building and was furiously banging on the doors that he had halted his run completely.
"Sanctuary, please give us sanctuary!" He cried, about to scream it again until he felt spindly fingers wind into his white locks and wrench him around. The man's other hand shot out, going right for the little bundle in his arms. The struggle commenced, the horse that Hojo rode on backed up with a steady step... Which Weiss did not possess.
The gypsy youth toppled forwards, a sickening crack echoing through the too silent streets. It was unknown when during the fall that Weiss died, the fact of the matter was that the once proud man was in a twisted heap at the bottom of the stairs, blood staining every step of the way.
This did not phase the cold-blooded murder, though. Hojo was far more interested in his prize, and like a greedy child, he ripped away the cloth that covered it without a moment's hesitation. "A baby? A monster!"
His prize did not warrant any awards, or celebration. The too small child which had been hidden safely inside the warmth of the dirty cloth had begun to howl, wisps of black whipping angrily about his form, a being born of true SIN in Hojo's eyes, as he covered the child up and attempted to find a way to free the world of it's unholy presence.
A well caught his eye, that sly grin once again crossing his face as he grabbed the horses reigns and steered it towards it. Once there, he grabbed the edges, holding the little 'demon' above the icy waters.
"Stop!" Cried the Archdeacon
"This is an unholy deamon. I'm sending it back to hell, where it belongs," the man's dark eyes narrowed at the entrance of the religious man, a horrified expression etched across dear Vincent Valentine's perfect features as he took in what he was seeing.
"See there the innocent blood you have spilt, On the steps of Notre Dame," Vincent's voice was soft as he kneeled down next to the fallen youth, gently edging one hand under the rapidly cooling body and drew it to his chest.
"I am guiltless. He ran, I pursued," Hojo replied, thin lipped as he continued to dangle the small baby above the well.
"Now you would add this child's blood to your guilt. On the steps of Notre Dame," Valentine continued, unaffected and unconvinced, and lifted cold red eyes to glare towards the Judge.
"My conscience is clear," Hojo assured, onyx clashing with crimson
"You can lie to yourself and your minions," Vincent snapped, rising to his feet with the young man in his arms. "You can claim that you haven't a qualm. But you never can run from. Nor hide what you've done from the eyes. The very eyes of Notre Dame!" His gaze snapped to the various statues, cold expression carrying no love for them at this moment.
Kyrie Eleison (Lord have mercy)
And for one time in his life
Of power and control
Kyrie Eleison (Lord have mercy)
Hojo felt a twinge of fear
For his immortal soul.
"What must I do?" He questioned, voice trembling in fear. The baby was drawn back from the mouth of the well, though still held well enough away from the twisted Judge to only allow as much contact as needed.
"Care for the child, and raise it as your own," Vincent replied, tone icy and clipped as he gazed down upon the youth who's life had been ended so quickly upon the steps of this holy place.
"What? I'd be settled with this misshapen ...?" The elder of the two trailed off, a twisted smirk gracing his lips. "Very well. Let him live with you, in your church."
"Live here? Where?" Hellfire eyes once again clashed with onyx, anger glimmering in them.
"Anywhere.
Just so he's kept locked away,
Where no one else can see
The bell tower, perhaps.
And who knows, our Lord works in mysterious ways
Even this foul creature may
Yet prove one day to be
Of use to me."
The judge leaped down from his horse, smirking coldly as he held the child out for Vincent to take, along with the corpse of his dear brother...
"And Hojo gave the child a cruel name
A name that means black, Nero the Sable
Now here is a riddle to guess if you can
Sing the bells of Notre Dame
Who is the monster and who is the man?"
With his tale drawing to a close, Edward turned towards the crowd again, one hand still held out and pointing towards the towers, fingers outstretched as if to grab what he could not reach.
Sing the bells, bells, bells, bells
Bells, bells, bells, bells
Bells of Notre Dame.
Freedom would soon reign in Paris, so said the oracle. The bard smiled to himself as the crowd left, going their own ways and remaining ignorant to the piece of wisdom he had just bestowed upon them. Because entering the city at this very moment was a being quiet unlike the folks around here, a being who would play a bigger part in the scheme of things than anything he had ever imagined.
Down below the docks, The Cloaked Schemer stepped through a swirling portal of darkness. A look of disdain crossed his features, annoyance overriding everything else as he moved to climb to steps to attend to his appointed duties.
And meanwhile, a creature ascended to the highest point in the city. A soft smile curving hidden lips as he gazed over the world which was, really, out of his reach. A winged angel seeking what he could not have, deformed and destroyed due to the corruption of this world. The Sable lived a lonely life.
What were the chances that those two would ever meet?
Behind his hand, Edward smiled. Packing away what remained of his show before the officers came after him, the bard left in a merry mood. A happy tune rung through the air, no longer the ringing bells, but the sound of a revolution in the works.