Next chapter. Yea I made another reference to a Disney movie in here but I thought that it would be kinda cool.....anyway I know that I have comma errors in here I admit it. I'm not the best when it comes to grammar but I try (I hated school when I was younger) so yea I'm not the best at it. I do appreciate Marcus for trying to help but he caught me on a bad day. Here's what I think, yes comma errors are bad and as an aspiring author in real life I will try and learn to fix them. To be honest I don't care, I get into my stories and I don't even notice the errors, of course I go back and fix as many as I find. I only am thinking about where my story will go and the quality of it, not so much the grammar quality.

Sorry, like I said I haven't had the best day but I'll shut up and get to the story. Thank you every one who has reviewed I appreciate it ^^

Disclaimer: HoND belongs to Disney and Victor Hugo, and so does the other Disney story in here. Flannery and everyone else belongs to me.

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Sanctuary

Then next morning I woke up with black bruises pretty much everywhere. Jacques was gone, for that I was grateful. I shook at yesterday's memories, I certainly didn't want to remain a part of his abuse and disloyalty. I honestly thought of fleeing that very morning, but I realized a few flaws in my plan.

First of all I had nowhere to go that he wouldn't think to look. I could seek sanctuary in Notre Dame, but that could be the very first place he chose. Were I to try and go stay with some of the Parisians I had met at the reception they would only inform my "husband". Worst of all I couldn't run to England; my parents would only ship me back and accuse me of trying to escape my marriage.

Second I would be leaving Ami in the hands of an abusive monster. He didn't seem to harm her any but would that last when she got older? Plus if I just up and left it would hurt her. Ami idolized me like I did with my sister when I was little; she had even given me a nickname, Fina. I couldn't abandon her.

Third, if I took Amalie with me then it would be far more noticeable than if I disappeared. Also a child would slow me down, unless my sanctuary was in Paris. Thing is I had no idea where I could go without being turned in. I could go to the Palace of Justice and report him but stories that had reached my ears of Minister Frollo were not pleasant ones.

I laid in bed most of the day just trying to think of a way out before it got worse. But with no brilliant ideas coming to mind I was forced to put it off.

It was past noon when I finally got up. Because of my bruises I had to slowly climb out of bed; I walked over to the huge closet in the room and pulled out a long sleeve goldenrod dress. It looked nasty to me, with the high neckline and its puffy skirt. But I didn't want anyone to notice my bruises and the skirt would cover up my slight limp. I was thankful that this dress had a tight bodice, I didn't have the patience enough to stress over a corset.

Once I had gotten myself clothed I walked over to the maple wood vanity that stood across from the bed. I put on my powders and rouge, pinned my unruly waves into a rather mess bun, and examined myself. Even with my cosmetics my eyes were puffy, my cheeks red from being hit, I looked absolutely miserable.

"Fina!" I managed to gain my composure as Ami ran in with a huge smile on her face.

"Yes, peu d'Ami?"

"Hey I'm not little!" she crossed her arms and frowned at me.

I giggled, "Compared to other young women in Paris Ami you are quite short," she started to protest but I held my hand up in silence, "Yet when it comes to maturity, well your très mature."

She grinned from ear to ear while her blue eyes burned with pride, "Merci beaucoup."

"Now what is it that rushed in here for?"

"Oh right! I wanted to know if you would come to town with me."

"Why?"

"Please? I'll show you when we get there." she started to tug on one of my silk sleeves.

"No we can't," she looked torn, "well not yet anyway. I can't take you out with only you nightgown on now can I?" I grinned, she must be very excited to forget to even dress.

She looked down in surprise, "I didn't even realize that I was still in this."

"And how long have you been up?"

"Awhile," she blushed.

I stood and walked to her room. She followed behind, excitement made her fidgety. Unlike my mother I did not scold her, she was only ten still a child, she deserved every minute of her childhood. Even the unladylike gestures.

I walked to her mahogany armoire and started going through her dresses, I would pull one out and examine it. Most were too fancy, but some were not nice enough for a duke's daughter to be seen in publicly. Yet we were going into town, she'll want to run around. Why dirty a nice dress just so she can look proper?

I pulled out a plain wool gown, it was a dull burgundy and not very nice looking with tatters and torn threads. Yet it was perfect for a young December day out in town.

"Ah here we go," I said placing the gown into her delicate palms. She turned it over in her hands then looked up at me with innocent confusion.

"Why did you pick this dress?"

"You are going to want to play, aren't you?"

"Yes, but Madam Luise never lets me go out in something like that. Not if we are going into the heart of town."

"Who is Mrs. Luise?"

"My governess," she said.

"Well I'm not Mrs. Luise, I am your friend but more importantly your mother. I see no need to dress you up in something uncomfortable when your going to be frolicking."

"Frolicking?"

"Oh, jeu."

"Ah, finally someone who sees my side," she placed her hands on her hips while giving me a look of pride. I couldn't help but laugh. I finally got her to change.

I didn't bother to put her hair up, not that I didn't try she was far too fidgety to sit still. I managed to braid her hair and tie it off but she had flown to the door calling me to hurry or I'd be left behind. I had to quickly throw on some heels and chase her out of the house into the streets of Paris.

She ran all the way to the square that lay at the base of Notre Dame. Like the week before there were many shops and stands. Ami would stop once or twice to glance at the wares but continued her dash to an unknown point. I'm sure that my feet would be sore after this chase.

Finally we reached a point in the square where the crowd thinned and I saw her stop to look at a very strange stand. It was not a stand but in fact a red caravan. A man was leaning out the side of it while children stood around looking at him in awe. I assume that he was a storyteller.

"Fina! Come on I'll miss the story!" Ami whined.

"This was what you couldn't wait to see?"

"Yeah, he's really good," she giggled, "he sings too."

I smiled at her, "Alright but I think I'm too old for stories."

She scoffed, "Your never too old for stories." With that she took my hand and pulled me over to the caravan. When we got to the crowed of children she let go and squeezed in to get closer. I stood quite a few feet away, I guess this was better than sitting all day in that house waiting for Jacques to come back.

We had made it over just as he finished one of his stories, the children all were yelling a different story request. He said something to them and they quited. I saw everyone turn to Ami, she must have said something. Suddenly everyone was looking at me.

When the man saw my face he grinned, it was the idiot who had insulted me last week! He was still wearing his ridiculous outfit.

"Fina, come over!" Ami begged.

I shook my head, "No I'm fine over here."

"That's a nice way of saying she doesn't like me," said the jester, I glared at him. He still had that stupid grin plastered on his face, he really must enjoy making me mad.

I put on a fake smile, "It's not that. I'm far too old for fairy tales, I wouldn't want my presence to spoil it for the children-"

"Nonsense, you look like you could use a story. What do you think?" he pulled out a puppet that looked like a miniature of himself.

When he spoke the pitch was higher, "Oui, she seems depressed."

"I am not depressed!" Once again he mimicked me, but this time it was my posture not my accent. He crossed his arms and gave me a tired glare. I stomped to the caravan.

"Stop it!"

"Stop what?" he acted oblivious.

"Stop antagonizing me!"

"I'm merely trying to cheer you up and I'm thanked like this," his features suddenly turned solemn.

"Fina stop it, he was only trying to be nice," Ami shot me a look that should not have been intimidating when coming from a ten year old. I looked away but didn't say another word. I heard the man chuckle.

"Well madam what story would you like to hear?" he asked after awhile.

I didn't look at him but instead looked at the children, "Surprise us." Every single child there nodded in agreement, that gave me courage to look into those onyx eyes again.

He pretended to think, one gloved hand held the puppet while the other rested on his chin. A random thought came to mind, he didn't look very old but he acted just like a little kid, annoying with too much energy to spare. Of course his age was hard to guess with that mask. Maybe mid-twenties.

"Well I was going to tell this one next month before the Feast of Fools but I guess I could tell it now," he said.

The puppet jumped to life again, "You can't mean the story of the bell ringer?"

"Why of course."

"The story of the bell ringer?" I had never heard of any bell ringer.

He gave me a crooked grin, "You don't think the bells of Notre Dame ring themselves do you?"

I blushed, "Of course not." I sighed when he continued to grin at me. "But I would like to hear it," I added in defeat.

All the children applauded, I felt like a kid now. I would never regain my dignity with this guy if things kept going in this direction. He started to begin his tale when a voice I did not want to hear sounded behind me.

"Flannery!" I flinched at Jacques voice, it wasn't cruel or mean but it couldn't hid the monster I knew he was. I didn't dare move, if I didn't have weak nerves before then I certainly did now. I if even took one step I think I would have fainted.

I heard Ami run over to him, footsteps came up behind me. I felt a hand on my arm, I jerked back. Jacques face looked looked surprised at my reaction, his eyes held his unvoiced rage.

"Sorry dear, I was on my way back from a meeting and I thought I'd say hello to my favorite ladies."

"Or did you?" I said. His eyes narrowed but he smiled.

"You know I did. Don't tease me so. I say that we go home and spend time together."

"But daaaaddd, we just got over here. I want to hear the story of the bell ringer," Ami whined.

"I'll save it for you two ladies. Call it my treat," I looked over to the jester. I had forgotten he was there. I could tell he sensed my discomfort and he didn't bother hiding it.

"Thank you sir, now good day," Jacques said, Ami squirmed out of his arms.

"Daddy can I still stay though please? Just one story," she begged.

He sighed in defeat but grabbed my arm, "Fine, remember just one." Ami hugged him then me. Jacques, still gripping my arm, started walking toward our house. I felt like a prisoner, in England a man couldn't beat his wife without good reason. I shook my head, maybe he had just been drunk, it wasn't really fair of me to make assumptions about my husband when we'd only been married for a week.

As we walked away I could hear the jester start his story, "Once upon a time, in a far away land, a prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind.

"But then, one dark winter night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter out of the frigid cold. Repulsed by her hagged appearance the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be fooled by looks for beauty is found within.

"When he dismissed her again her ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize-" his voice finally faded away.

I found myself wanting to go back, I still believed myself too old for stories but I found myself draw to the tale. He added enough emotion into it that everyone nearby had been drawn in, like a moth to a flame. The children were leaning toward him in anticipation, then jumped back at something he had said. He made a hideous face and they all jumped back again.

I smiled to myself, maybe coming back for his bell ringer tale wouldn't be so bad. That was, as long as he didn't keep harassing me. He really did seem to enjoy it, why me?

We made it back to the estate. The home was a good example of excellent French architecture, there was a bit of Roman design added to it. The rooms were all huge with many paintings and statues, even the servant's living quarters were fairly big. Though, like I said before, it wasn't very big for someone with as much money as Jacques had.

The Wilkinson estate was fairly small, that was because there weren't very many of us in the house. We would always be out somewhere, people of propriety never stayed holed up in their house long, so our home felt close and comfortable. My new home however felt too spacious and empty.

Without a word to each other we went into the dinning hall for lunch, thankfully we sat on opposite ends of the table. As mother had said the French cuisine wasn't bad but it took awhile to get used to. The tea was quite horrible though, so I drank watered down wine. Not that I didn't drink but I liked to keep a clear head during the day.

Ami ran in and joined us not too long after. She hardly touched her food as she told us the tale she just heard. It was about a selfish prince who was turned into a beast. He had to find love before the last petal of an enchanted rose fell off. A young woman had gone to the castle to save her father and instead became the beast's prisoner. While she was staying there she had fallen in love with the beast, and just like any other fairy tale, she had broken the spell before he had died.

If only life was like a fairy tale, no matter how bad your life got in the end love would be there to pull you on your feet again. It would be your crutch when you were injured, your candle in the dark, the stars in the night sky. It would be nice to have the guarantee that everything turn out for the better in the end. Sadly God did not make those promises.

I humored Ami as she told her version of the story. I would gasp when things got intense, laugh at the right moments, and asking questions just to show I was paying attention. Jacques continued eating without looking up once. Some father he was.

"And then they lived happily ever after," she said panting. She had talked so much that I'm surprised that her face wasn't red.

I smiled, "What a tale, ah I live for such romances. But now it's time for you to eat before your food gets cold."

"Yes ma'am," she became a little lady again as she picked up her fork and delicately started eating. Small little conversations would start up and promptly end, they were all started by Jacques while all ending by me.

When Jacques was finished he set his napkin on the table and rose. "Flannery I plan on going to another meeting and I would like you to join me."

"No, meetings are for men. Plus I find them completely dull and bloody obnoxious," I took a drink of my wine after I spoke. Ami was laughing, she thought the expression "bloody" was absurd, that if it nothing to do with blood why would I use it?

"Fine, you will come with me," he commanded. I caught his glare and tried to hold up my own. But looking into his eyes brought back the night before, I felt everything, my bruises flared with pain. Fear was a more formidable enemy than any man. I lowered my gaze and stood.

"I'll go, but it doesn't mean I'll stay."

"You will stay as long as I do."

"I'll come home when I feel like it!" He threw his cup at me, I flinched as it came within inches of my face. Ami had jumped back and looked about ready to cry from shock. I ran to Ami and pulled her into a hug, I tried to reassure her. Or was I trying to calm myself?

Once I had gotten Ami calmed Jacques pulled me to my feet and ushered me out the door. Awkward silence followed as we walked to this "meeting". It was most likely a room full of drunken men.

Well there was wine and beer, surprisingly enough none of the men were drunk. We had gone to a mansion that belonged to one of the lords whom I had met at the reception. We were in the main dinning hall, sitting around the large chestnut table.

The men would converse amongst themselves, Lord above this was boring. The men next to me where talking about taxes and how high they were again. Jacques was conversing about the newest case that he had heard from the Palace of Justice. I caught part of a conversation about wine. It was all a bore.

Suddenly the men next to me (Jacques was sitting to my left) changed to a more interesting topic.

"I saw more gypsies on the street today," said the old man next to me. He looked around fifty, even older with that hideous powdered wig. He was a very portly man and ingested a generous amount of wine.

"If Minister Frollo doesn't take care of those rats our city will be overrun by them."

"Exactly. I can't believe the king allows them to hold that ridiculous Feast of Fools,"

"Feast of Fools?" I inquired. The men turned to men, it was obvious that I had been forgotten.

The portly man glowered at me, "Yes, madame. It is a stupid festival held every January sixth. It's the one day that the gypsies get to take over,"

"Isn't it only fair though. The other days of the year they're sneered at and persecuted-"

"As it should be!" his voiced raised, many of the other men halted their conversations and were watching us closely.

"People are people. What if we were treated this way?"

"If I hadn't been informed that you were a well bred English woman then I would think that you sympathized with them."

I was lost for words, he was right. I didn't enjoy their presence, they were completely below me. But so were peasents, they weren't persecuted this way. Was I wrong to defend them?

"Yes sir I am. I'm only defending the fact that they, like other peasents, are in fact people. One shouldn't be killed for merely walking the streets and trying to earn money. Sure they are dirty, lying, stealing, scum but do we not also fault?" All the men laughed, Jacques among them.

Jacques grabbed my arm, the wine obviously was getting to him now. "Flannery, being English you should know that that's why the church was built," the men laughed their agreement, "All the free repentance we want. Those filthy pigs don't go near Notre Dame."

"Why?"

He gave me one of those grins that made me want to crawl out of my skin, "The heathens don't believe in god."

"How would you know?! The church should be open to anyone!"

"Only if they need sanctuary, and if we let them in for that they the whole church would be filled with those rats. Then how could we pray? We'd probably have our pockets robbed while confessing."

"Here here!" the men said in unison. This was worse than defending gypsies, these men where the true pigs. They felt that they did no wrong, that no matter how much they sinned they would be forgiven. While if a gypsy did one small thing then they made it seem that they were condemned to hell.

I stood, I had keep my ladylike façade for as long as I could. "Maybe the gypsies aren't the ones Paris should be fearing," I paused, mama would kill me for insulting many well known men but I couldn't sit by any longer, "The ones Paris, no, France should fear is all of you!"

Every man in that room glared at me, I needed nothing more to continue.

"Here we sit talking about how horrible they are, yet you act like you are exempt from sin! Do not forget the Bible, every man sins!"

"So does every woman," said them portly man, "If I had a coin for how many women-"

"See! You'd rather blame others than admit that you have faults! Gypsies may lie and steal but you gossip and sit on your lazy asses!" I paused long enough to glare at Jacques, "Or decide to please a mistress." I could tell that he was quite sober now.

"Adultly is a high crime gentlemen and I'm quite certain that almost all of you are guilty of it. Next time you go to confessions I think you ought to beg the priest for forgiveness. Not just because of your sins but in hopes that you can escape becoming one of Hell's jackasses, but why bother it's quite obvious that you all are anyway!" I screamed.

No man spoke, every man that met my violet gaze looked away. I stood there fuming while I stared down any and every man who dared to protest. Jacques was the only one I didn't look at, I heard his chair move.

"Were going home now!" he growled. I didn't need him to grip my arm, I hurried to the door.

It was dark when we left, somehow Jacques had beaten me out of the house and was barging through the streets. We ended up walking past Notre Dame on our way back, I didn't remember passing it the first time.

Jacques grabbed my arm and threw me onto the bridge leading to the side of Notre Dame. "How dare you!" he snarled, "How dare you embarrass me in front of all the important men of Paris! I thought that you had learned once never to talk back to me?! You really are a stupid British woman." I tried to back up but for ever step he took brought him much too close.

He pulled me up by the collar of my dress, I whimpered as I saw his hand rise. He didn't slap me this time, instead he punched me. The blow sent me sprawling onto the stones of the bridge. I sat there, I couldn't cry I just couldn't. I shuddered as I heard his leather boots behind me.

He beat me right there on that bridge. And there he left me when he was done, he just walked off leaving me wounded and crying there. Thunder sounded in the distance. I pulled myself to my feet and limped to the church. I made it just as it started to pour.

I hardly had the strength to push the door of the cathedral open. Barely anyone was in. I thought I glimpsed a familiar purple hat, I think it had a yellow feather on it (eww yellow and purple, not a good match), my mind couldn't focus though. I couldn't look further for the archdeacon come up to me, by the time I looked again it was gone anyway. Worry masked his old face.

"My dear child what happened?" he asked, his kind voice soothed some of my pain.

My voice was hoarse with the hint of more tears, "Please allow me sanctuary for the night."

"From what dear girl?"

"M-m-my husband," I lost it, I started crying again. The archdeacon took my hands and helped me onto one of the benches.

"Miss?"

"F-Flannery," I managed to get in between tears.

"Flannery you are most certainly welcome sanctuary for the night. Would you like to tell me what led to this?"

I slowly nodded. I told him what happened yesterday night and today. I'm sure my story took awhile for I could not stop crying. The archdeacon was patient though. He would try and comfort me when my tears thickened.

When I had finished he looked disturbed. "Yes I remember when his mother came and told me he had a daughter. I wish I could do more for you than offer sanctuary,"

"Couldn't you go to the Palace of Justice?!" I squeaked.

He shook his head, "I'm afraid that Frollo would not listen to me. Twenty years ago he learned to respect the church, but I'm afraid he doesn't like me very much."

"Then in the morning I will go,"

"Frollo doesn't like outsiders much either."

"But look!" I pulled up my sleeves where bruises started forming over old ones.

"Yes I know. But my dear do you know where your husband got so much money?"

"No."

"My dear," he paused, "He turned in many wanted criminals for rewards when he was younger. When he was twenty Frollo offered him a job as an informant for him, Jacques has rarely let Frollo down. He would never believe you over one of his best men, especially if it put him behind bars dear."

I stared at him in disbelief. I couldn't believe I was hearing this. I refused to say or listen to anymore, and bawled. I was trapped, no wonder Jacques had just beaten me out in the open, he knew he was safe.

I must have cried for hours before sleep found me. It was certainly a restless sleep. I never wanted the moon to set, when she left so did my sanctuary.

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Well there you have it, more domestic violence, but I promise that it will get better ;)

And if you couldn't figure it out Clopin's story was Beauty and the Beast, that was kinda last minute ^^

I was planning on making this longer, but Marcus told me that it might be too long -.-. Shortly after he told me this I read a chapter of a fanfic that was over 9000 words......darn, lol but it gives ya'll (I have a cousin whose accent kinda rubs off) more reason to keep reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Please review