Author's Note
Hi, everybody! This is my first published fanfic, and I'm so excited! I've always loved the Hunchback of Notre Dame movie, but could never learn to like the sequel (Hunchback of Notre Dame 2). I decided to write my own sequel, and here it is! Please review and let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original cast of Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame, only my own original characters. I also make no money from writing this fanfic. (Not that I couldn't use some... haha)
Well, without further ado, here is the Hunchback of Notre Dame II: Someday Soon!
CHAPTER ONE
It was a beautiful morning in Paris. The sun was just beginning to rise over the sprawling city, making the thousands of painted rooftops gleam with light, and illuminating the haphazard streets with a warm glow. The sights, smells, and sounds of the city waking up were everywhere. The street vendors displayed their wares and proclaimed their prices, the smell of the fresh bread in the bakeries wafted through the air, and horse-drawn carts clip-clopped up and down the cobblestone streets. Citizens of the great city started to leave their houses, the men to their workplaces and the women to the markets. Gaggles of children laughed and played, pestering their neighbors and inventing ridiculous games. The deep boom of the church bells echoed through the sky, heralding the new day.
Meanwhile, at the entrance to the city, a weather-beaten hay cart driven by a kindly old farmer pulled up to the gates.
"Well, this is your stop, dearie!" He shouted hoarsely to a young woman riding in the back of his cart.
The girl grinned happily, calling attention to her freckled cheeks and wide eyes.
"I can't believe it! Paris! I'm finally here!" She babbled, her words running together from her excitement. "Thanks so much for letting me ride with you, sir!"
The old farmer chuckled. "It's no trouble at all. I never pass up a chance to talk to a friendly young lady, especially one as pretty as yourself!"
He winked, and the girl blushed. "Well I really appreciate it," she replied. "Oh, I almost forgot my bag!" As she went to retrieve a burlap sack from the back of the hay cart, the farmer called back to her.
"So, what brings you to the city?" He asked.
The young woman smiled again. "I've always dreamed about it, ever since I was little!" She answered. "I grew up in Dinan, which is just a little farming town out in the country. I liked it there, but there isn't much to do besides eat, sleep, and work on my family's farm."
"Sounds fine to me," the farmer said, "but I suppose you're lookin' for a little more excitement out of life than I am!" When the girl nodded, he laughed loudly. "All you young people are these days! Well, I hope you have some wonderful adventures in Paris, missy!"
"I hope so too. Thank you, sir! Safe travels!" She said as she walked through the city gates. The old man laughed again as he started to ride away. Then, he paused.
"Oh, one more thing! I never caught your name!" He shouted to the girl.
"It's Elisabeth! Elisabeth Altier!"
"Good luck, Elisabeth!"
She waved as he continued on his way. Then, brushing her tangled brown hair out of her face, Elisabeth made her way further into the city to explore.
Immediately, she fell in love. She ambled through the streets, gawking at street performers and marveling at the tall wooden buildings, which were much higher than any she had ever seen back home in Dinan. She laughed as a runaway cart, chased by a shouting gypsy, hurtled down the road. Impulsively, she bought an icing-bedecked pastry from one vendor and a small bouquet of wildflowers from another. Soon, Elizabeth took a seat on a bench beside the glittering Seine, nibbling her croissant and listening to a puppeteer sing a jaunty song about the wonderful place she now called home.
"Morning in Paris!
The city awakes
To the bells of Notre Dame…"
A little later, Elisabeth was quietly humming the tune to herself as she walked down a particularly busy street. She was beginning to daydream once again, and was so preoccupied that she didn't hear the sound of the horse's hoofs clacking against the cobblestones, coming up behind her. Suddenly, she was startled out of her thoughts by a loud whinny that sounded practically in her ear. She looked over her shoulder to see a huge draft horse rearing up over her! Gasping in fright, she dashed out of the road at the last second. The horse's hooves came down on the ground where she had been standing, and the carriage driver shouted angrily as he passed.
"SACRE BLEU! Mon Dieu, mam'selle, sortez d'la route! F'chus p'sans…"
Elisabeth couldn't quite tell what he was saying due to his thick accent, but she guessed that it was a stream of profanities. The driver continued down the road, narrowly missing a few other unlucky pedestrians. The young woman, red from embarrassment, was ready to vent her irritation with a few curses of her own, but then she looked down the road and the words died in her throat.
It was Notre Dame! The majestic cathedral rose above every other building in sight, a proud stallion standing amongst tiny, stumbling colts. It was austere, serene, and beautiful: just as Elisabeth had imagined it. She was quite overcome with the need to see it up close.
Before, the girl had been drifting through the streets with no real destination in mind, content to be charmed by the goings-on of her new home. Now she walked with purpose, sparing no time for sideshow performers or merchants with "the best prices this side of the Seine!" But even though she was set on visiting the famous cathedral, she stopped in front of a shadowed alley when she heard an increasingly loud argument coming from within. Other people had gathered to gawk, so she fought through to the front of the crowd, and what she saw made her teeth clench.
Five soldiers were in the act of dragging off a gypsy boy who couldn't be older than twelve, and the boy was certainly putting up a fight. He kept yelling, "Let me go, I've done nothing wrong!" But the soldiers ignored his pleas, and one made to strike him across the face to quiet him. Elisabeth found herself pushing past the last few people in front of her.
"Stop!" the girl cried, without considering the consequences. The air seemed to rush out of her lungs when all five soldiers turned to glare at her. One man, who was obviously the leader, looked at her with thinly veiled irritation.
"Whatever is the matter, girl? We are simply in the act of arresting this thief and bringing him to the Palace of Justice, where he belongs."
"Lies!" the boy said, trying to shake off the guards holding him. "I haven't stolen a thing, I swear it!"
"Do not lie to me, boy," the leader said. Elisabeth gave him a quick once-over. He was tall and strongly built, with black hair and cold, steel-blue eyes. He looked to be in high social standing, wearing an expensive midnight black cloak over a gray military uniform. She supposed he was rather handsome, in an aloof sort of way, but she was already getting a very bad feeling from him. The man spoke to Elisabeth scornfully again. "We found a stolen necklace in this gypsy's pocket, is that not grounds to arrest him?"
The accused interrupted again. "I swear, I've never seen it before–"
"Quiet!" One of the guards snapped. "You should know better than to interrupt Judge Adolphe Laroche, Minister of Justice and–"
"That will be all, Miller," the judge said sharply. "Everyone already knows who I am, after all."
Well, Elisabeth hadn't, but she didn't think saying so would help her much. "I don't believe you," she said accusingly.
The man looked surprised. "You don't believe that I'm Judge Laroche?" The guards and several people in the crowd laughed spitefully, and Elisabeth blushed scarlet in spite of herself.
"No! I mean that I don't believe that this boy stole anything. He doesn't look like the sort that would."
Now the judge, who the girl already passionately disliked, looked downright amused. "Oh really? Well, my dear, if you have any actual evidence to prove that the boy is, in fact, innocent, then I should be happy to hear it."
Much to her embarrassment, Elisabeth had nothing to say. After a moment of silence, punctuated by snickers from the onlookers, Laroche smirked exultantly. He knew that he had won. "Since you obviously do not, I suppose mine will have to suffice." He turned to the crowd, which was growing by the second. "Fellow Parisians, let it be known that I, Judge Laroche, will purge this city of all lawbreakers, be they nobleman or peasant, gypsy or Frenchman! Claude Frollo's reign of misery is over, and together we shall usher in a new era of justice and equality. Rest assured, my only goal is to make sure you sleep safely every night knowing that your Minister of Justice is keeping criminals at bay!"
As the crowd roared with approval, applauding loudly, Elisabeth looked at the poor gypsy boy in apology. He gave her a sad half-smile back, as if to say, I know you tried. And with that, the soldiers dragged him away. The judge followed behind them, the crowd parting before him like the Red Sea before Moses. As he passed Elisabeth, he paused and whispered in her ear, malice dripping from his voice.
"And I will certainly be keeping an eye on you, my dear. I just cannot abide troublemakers…"
She froze, terrified. He gave a final wave to the crowd, and rode off on his horse, no doubt to pass official judgement on the "thief" at the Palace of Justice. The people dispersed, and Elisabeth tried to suppress a shiver. Laroche's voice had been as malevolent as if the little farm girl was his worst enemy. Though she couldn't prove it, Elisabeth knew beyond doubt that Laroche was not the benevolent, just public official he portrayed himself to be.
Shaking off her fear, the young woman continued towards the cathedral, considerably less enchanted with Paris thanks her close encounter with the sinister Judge. Something was amiss in the City of Lights, and something told Elisabeth that this afternoon wouldn't be her last encounter with the Minister of Justice.
She shuddered at the thought.