First of all, an ENORMOUS thank you to my readers who were so patient with me. I had a hand injury and couldn't type for a few weeks, so my fanfic had to be put on hold. During this time, though, I discovered a hidden talent (well, sort of) for art, which leads us to our next big piece of news: PICTURES OF CIRCE HAVE BEEN COMPLETED!!!!! I'm putting them on photobucket, so there'll be a hotlink on my profile. ALSO IMPORTANT: I have edited chapters 8 & 9 because I noticed that they weren't very clear. None of the events have changed, but I have moved a few things around, especially the flashback scene. So please re-read chapters 8 and 9 before reading chapter 10. Thank you!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 10: Love in Bloom

Circe had made a decision. Two decisions, actually. The first was that she wasn't going to the Court of Miracles. She didn't care how dangerous it was, she was going back for Quasimodo. She'd run away with him even if she had to kidnap him to do it.

Another realization came. She needed to hide. And not just away somewhere, she needed to make herself unrecognizable. But how to do it?

Within a few moments, she'd made a plan. Frollo's guards would surely be looking for a girl. So she had to change that. After finding the wall next to her, Circe gave a mighty swing and broke the tip of the spear off its wooden shaft. Now she had a knife.

Ducking into an alleyway, Circe laid her newly made staff against the wall and gripped the spear blade in her hands. In a few moments, the deed was done.

After a quick pause to listen, Circe swept out of the alleyway in search of a hiding place closer to the cathedral. Within moments, every trace of her had disappeared. The only thing to be seen was the glistening of the moonlight on the discarded locks of hair lying in the alleyway.

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Frollo was seething. Once again the little gypsy vermin had managed to escape his clutches. The unfortunate Captain who had been sent after her was currently in the prison along with the other gypsies. He would die. They would all die. Above all, she would die.

The best thing about the news of her escape was that she was now loose in Paris, his territory. He knew all of the places where gypsies hid. Unless she went to the ever-elusive Court of Miracles, he would find her. And then…

It was while Frollo was entertaining these morbid thoughts that an idea began to sprout inside of his head. A horrible, terrible, wonderful idea. He'd use the Boy. He'd been suspicious of the fact that Quasimodo had never asked about the girl next door. If his hunch proved to be correct, he would soon have all the gypsies in his hands.

Rising from the desk at which he had been sitting, Frollo swept out of his room and down, down into the cold prison chambers. There were a few things he needed before his visit to the belltower.

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Circe had found a hiding spot in a well, in the churchyard of Notre Dame. It was an odd place, but there had been handholds placed along the side, and the well had long been dry, so there was no risk of discovery. Here, Circe could be close to Quasimodo and find an opportune moment to help him escape.

She was sitting now, her back against the damp stones of the well. Though she wasn't quite sure how she felt about this sort of thing, she looked skyward. "Please," she whispered, "I need him. Don't…don't let Frollo hurt him." Then, slowly, she began to sing.

Through the darkness

I can see your light

And you will always shine

And I can feel your heart in mine

Your face I've memorized

I idolize just you…

Quasimodo was looking out over the starry night sky. His hope was gone. The tears fell freely now. Why hadn't her gone with her? Now that the opportunity had passed, he regretted his decision. His fear was too great. After all was said and done, he was a coward. A horrible, lonely coward.

As he looked out over the dark city, he began, inexplicably, to sing. The tune had been one of Circe's, one she'd played for him in the belltower one night. Now it was no longer sweet, but melancholy.

I look up to

Everything you are

In my eyes you do no wrong

I've loved you for so long

And after all is said and done

You're still you

After all

You're still you…

Quasimodo turned away from the balcony. Walking slowly, he went toward his table with the models of Paris. Somehow, he'd never been able to carve a figurine of Circe. Every time he started…it didn't matter. Carrying a knife and a fresh block of wood back with him, Quasimodo leaned against the belltower wall. With the moonlight to guide him, he began to work.

You walk past me

I can feel your pain

Time changes everything

One truth always stays the same

You're still you

After all

You're still you…

Circe was standing now, her face to the heavens, as if her voice could somehow reach the belltower, and Quasimodo. She wanted him to know that she was here. That she had come back for him.

I look up to

Everything you are

In my eyes…

High in the belltower, Quasimodo heard a sound wafting through the nighttime sky. A voice. A beautiful voice. With all his strength, he sang along with the voice.

In my eyes you do no wrong

And I believe in you

Although you never asked me to

I will remember you

And what life put you through

And in this cruel and lonely world

I found one love…

Her tears fell on the stones as Circe sang out with all her heart.

You're still you…

Quasimodo's voice quieted.

After all…

Their voices ended softly in the night sky.

You're still you.

("You're Still You" by Josh Groban)

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Frollo was on his way across the square when he heard the singing. For one time in his life, Frollo felt confused. The girl had gone. Yet there were two voices. Suddenly Frollo realized what he was saying. Singing from the belltower? It was impossible. This was all a figment of his exhausted mind. That is what you get for having three glasses of Port after dinner, he told himself. Then, without further wait, he continued on across the square. He'd soon put a stop to the singing. No singing, he reminded himself. One way or another, the Boy was going to suffer.

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With a sigh, Quasimodo walked over to his carving table. He was too tired and too miserable to continue. He kept telling himself that giving Circe her freedom was the best thing to do, but know he knew better. He should've gone with her. There was no reason why they couldn't have run away together. He rolled the half-finished figurine between his palms and looked at its small face.

"Still awake, Boy?" Frollo's icy voice cut through the silence like sharpened steel.

He watched with a grin as the Boy dropped his wood in shock. "I just thought you should know, Quasimodo. There was a girl being held next door, a gypsy. She escaped."

Quasimodo couldn't hide a smile. That was the only clue Frollo needed. With an icy grin, he said, "No need to worry. She's been arrested. She's set to be hung in a few days."

He watched with joy as the Boy fell to his knees, head in his hands. He sobbed miserably. "No! No, it's not true!"

Putting on a false attitude of comfort, Frollo knelt next to the Boy. "You can save her, you know."

Looking at his Master, Quasimodo wiped away his tears. "I can?"

"But of course," Frollo said gently. "I just need you to tell me some things."

"What sorts of things?"
"Well," Frollo said, "I need to know everything she said about one tiny little subject."

Quasimodo looked at him hopefully.

Frollo grinned, confident that he would soon have the information he needed. "I need you to tell me about the Court of Miracles."