A/N: It's been several weeks since Brielle's been stabbed by Frollo. She has accepted Quasimodo's hand in marriage and is ironically getting married the same day as Esmeralda. Also, I've realized halfway through the Le Banni Fleur that I misspelled Djahli. It's actually spelt Djali, but I was too lazy to change it. Plus, I thought "Djahli" looked better.
It was a beautiful day in Paris. The Court of Miracles bustled with activity, getting ready for the weddings that were to take place.
"Get up!" Fabiana commanded, bursting into the tent where the brides-to-be were sleeping.
"Wait, where's Quasimodo?" Brielle asked, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.
"Clopin's working on him and Phoebus while I work on you two!" Fabiana exclaimed, pulling them out into the square.
"I'm not sure if I like this new location for the Court of Miracles," Esmeralda whispered, staring at the campfires some gypsies huddled around. Brielle understood completely. Ever since Quasimodo had accidentally led Frollo into their safe haven, they felt that there'd be no point staying there since the guards knew its location. As a result, they now lived in a less spacious part of the catacombs. It was so small that they couldn't even fit the caravans into it (which now were in the old Cout). On the other hand, it was slightly closer to Notre Dame so it was a shorter walk for Brielle to visit her husband-to-be.
"Now, you two don't have to worry about a thing," Fabiana assured, leading them behind a screen.
"What are you doing?" Brielle shrieked as the obese woman stripped off her dress.
"Giving you two baths, of course! You don't want to be stinking like a goat's ass on you wedding day, do you?"
Djahli, who had at that moment been skipping by his mistress, shot Fabiana a death glare and butted her in the thigh.
"Cut it out, Djahli," Esmeralda scolded as another female gypsy helped her into the wooden tub overflowed with foaming bubbles.
"In ya go!" Fabiana said, placing Brielle into an identical tub.
"Not so hard!" Brielle whined as Fabiana scrubbed her head with rose-scented shampoo.
"But it's necessary! It'll make your hair sparkle like the morning sun," she promised, scrubbing even harder. Esmeralda was no better off. Her hair was thicker and longer than Brielle's so by the time Brielle had gotten out, she was just beginning to have her body washed.
"Now come with me," Fabiana ordered after Brielle had gotten a robe on. She led her into a tent, forced her on a stool, and combed through Brielle's straight hair, which barely fell past her shoulders.
"Are you nervous?" Fabiana asked, staring at Brielle's reflection in a small piece of glass that served as the mirror.
"A little bit," she admitted, crossing her hands in her lap.
"I remember when I was going to get Topaz married. But, that never happened in Paris," Fabiana said, pursing her lips. Brielle understood; Topaz had disappeared nearly twenty years ago to elope with another gypsy. Since then, Fabiana had never spoken to her or even knew if her daughter was alive.
"What am I going to wear?" Brielle asked once her hair was dry.
"I saved the gown Topaz was supposed to wear on her wedding day. She was about the same size as you, so I think we'll be all set."
She opened a trunk and took out a long, white dress. Intricate curly lace covered the hem of it while golden threads entwined the edge of the V-neck.
"It's beautiful," Brielle said in awe.
Fabiana helped her into the dress and laced the strings in the back as tight as she could.
"We don't want to flash the crowd with your breasts," Fabiana mumbled to herself.
"I barely got any, though," she pointed out, prodding her B-cup bosom, "And even so, I don't think Quasimodo would mind."
Fabiana roared with laughter, placing a gilded tiara on her head.
"I'm sure the Archdeacon would mind. But needless to say, you look stunning."
"Thanks," Brielle said sheepishly, staring down at herself.
"Hurry! The grooms are already at the cathedral!" called the gypsy who bathed Esmeralda.
Fabiana looked flustered, handing Brielle a bouquet of red roses.
"Oh my," Brielle breathed once she came out of the tent. Esmeralda stood before her, wearing a gorgeous green dress that showed off her cleavage and made her eyes looked greener. The golden tiara she usually wore on the Festival of Fools was perched in her raven hair. She also wore a golden chain with an emerald at the end.
"You look beautiful, Brielle," Esmeralda assured as she was handed a white rose bouquet.
"But you look prettier," she insisted honestly.
"Now's not the time to feel sorry for yourself. Phoebus and Quasimodo would marry us no matter what we looked like. Even if we showed up to the wedding naked!"
"That can be arranged," Clopin said, coming up behind them and grinning suggustively.
"Shouldn't you be at the cathedral?" Fabiana accused as Brielle gave him an appalled look.
"Yes I should, but I'd just wanted to congratulate are brides," he said through a fake smile. Brielle immediately felt awkward. Both Clopin and Quasimodo had declared their love to her, but she had angered the King of Gypsies so much that he nearly exiled her when she refused his hand in marriage.
"You can do that after the wedding, now go!" Fabiana declared, shooing him away.
"I thought I'd never live to see the day where Clopin actually wore one color," Esmeralda said, noting how a black tux had replaced his colorful jumpsuit and identical hand-puppet.
"Well, you don't want to be late!" Fabiana said, urging them into wooden sedan chairs with purple cushions covering the inside.
"Really, you needn't have done this," Esmeralda insisted, stepping inside one.
"It's the least we could do!" Fabiana exclaimed as she gave the order for several, burly men to carry them through the sewer water surrounding the Court.
After several minutes of carrying the brides up a flight of steps, they emerged about a block away from Notre Dame. The bells were ringing harmoniously, each loud gong sounding happy.
"Quasi wouldn't be ringing the bells right before his wedding, would he?" Esmeralda called from the front.
"Possibly," Brielle said, smiling to herself. She knew that Hugo, Laverne, and Victor; Quasimodo's gargoyle friends, would've given him the day off and were probably ringing them.
"Come in, my dears! It's about to start!" exclaimed a frenzied usher as Brielle and Esmeralda stepped out of their chairs. Hurrying up the stone steps, the entered the beautiful hallway and could hear the pipe organ from a closed door.
"Now, you are to walk in unison down the aisle at the sound of the third chord," the usher said, dragging Esmeralda next to Brielle. Suddenly, the doors were thrown wide open and the third chord sounded. Every gypsy stood, gaping in awe as the brides walked gracefully down the red carpeted aisle. Quasi and Phoebus beamed in front of a stained glass window, looking exquisitely handsome in tuxes. The organist ceased playing as soon as the brides stood next to their respectable grooms.
"You may be seated," the Archdeacon said, addressing the congregation.
