Chapter 10: Burning
Time was irrelevant as I sat in my dingy cell, awaiting my death. What is the point of keeping time when you know that your time will soon end? It seems ironic that we spend our lives counting time, knowing the inevitably, one day, time for us all will stop. What was the point of keeping it in the first place?
I had long ago let down my hair and thrown off my veil. I asked the guard if I was to change into criminal apparel, and he simply sneered at me and said, "the Archdeacon wishes for you to be burned in your wedding dress." He gave a dark chuckle at that, running a finger down my cheek and laughing harder when I flinched away, disgusted.
And so I sat, staring at the wall expressionlessly and wondering why Quasimodo had betrayed me. I thought we had a connection... I thought he might even love me, but I suppose my ignorance once again betrays my rational mind. I thought of our kiss, and the night he read me to sleep before kissing me so tenderly...
I began to cry silently, but I hid my tears from the warden and guards, refusing to show any weakness in this place. Soon I will be with God; that is the only comforting thought that has kept me from pulling my hair out at the cruelty of being force to wait.
Honestly, I believe that is the worst part about knowing when your death is nye. Waiting for that time to come. No man should have the power to take away another man's life. Or take away their sense of time.
But we humans do so love playing God.
"Adeline Lapierre, come with me" I heard a man say, and I rose steadily and turned to leave the cell behind. I followed him numbly to a new carriage outside of the jail, but this was a far cry from the flower adorned carriage from the morning; this was wooden with metal bars surrounding it. I swallowed and allowed the guard to help me inside. I stared at my hands during the ride, as they were folded in a way indicating I was in prayer... But in my final moments, I could not find anything to pray for. Except Quasimodo. I sent my prayers to God, asking for His forgiveness for my many sins as well as begging Him to allow Quasi to know happiness and love. If I have no other legacy on this earth, I wish for Quasimodo to appreciate my sacrifice and truly live.
We arrived at the towns square on front of Notre Dame, and I stared at the saints surrounding the doors with blooming comprehension. They had been watching me all along, and their eyes were warning me of the peril I was placing my life under when I saved Quasimodo from the Place de Grève. Now the spinning wheel used to make an example of prisoners was gone in place of a thin oak tree surrounded by a wooden platform. Guards and townsmen were adding hay to the bottom of the platform, creating a bonfire. So, I am to be tied to the tree and left to burn, how utterly appropriate for all my talk of God from this morning at my wedding. In return for my biblical vocalizations, I am to die in an fashion similar to Christ, oh the irony!
I did not struggle, nor did I shed a tear, as the guards led me to the place of my execution and tied me to the tree. I will not show weakness; not in front of Paris, and not in front of the devil who stands in front of me. Claude Frollo excused the guards with a flick of his wrist, and in a moment he had gone from smirking at my plight to grabbing my hair and twisting my head back so he could whisper in my ear in a depraved manner.
"It is not too late, if you give yourself to me and admit your wrongdoings, I will take you from this place" he whispered in a voice attempting to be soothing, but that sounded insidious to me. I tried to pull away in desperation but to no avail as his hands clenched tighter around my auburn hair, smelling it with a lustful sigh as I wretched: "I will take you as my whore, if you admit you were wrong to save that deformed creature under my care and confess your devotion to me!" He growled possessively, and when he lent back from my ear to steal a kiss I spat in an unladylike fashion in his face. He yelled in indignation as he wiped away my blatant refusal from his face.
"I will never sleep with the Devil!" I roared for Paris to hear, and he paled slightly when a confused murmur spread through the crowd, for they could not understand why the Archdeacon should want to lie with a criminal. Phoebus, who was standing in front of the platform on Achilles, looked decidedly shocked and then angered. I looked to my ex-fiancé and nodded, confirming his thoughts that Claude Frollo did proposition me due to his uncontrollable lust. The Captain should never have blindly followed such a dishonorable man: "I choose to die with Christ. The bible states in John, 'beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love.' I will not apologize for saving Quasimodo that day from your cruel-" I was silenced by a cravat being tied around my mouth, muffling my voice as I cried out in distress.
Claude Frollo took a torch from the guard's hand and haughtily announced, "for your treasonous crimes against Paris, and the attempted murder of a Paris official, you are to burn at the stake" he grinned maliciously as he set the hay at the bottom of the platform on fire and it began to smoke and spread quickly, "for justice, for Paris, and for her own salvation, it is my sacred duty to send this unholy demon back where she belongs!" He intoned while walking away to the tent where the nobles and clergymen sat, and I almost laughed at the irony I had been sitting there just a week prior to this disaster.
I began to cough as the smoke traveled around me, and I blessed my terrible lungs this once, knowing I would die from asphyxiation far before I would die from the fire burning my flesh. I gazed around the crowd with watery eyes from the smoke, and I caught sight of my family in the nobles tent, watching my death. Pierre seemed inconsolable, and my father was berating him for his weakness. My mother, sister, and brother watched on impassively, and I applauded their ability to be so unfeeling. Admittedly, I would have liked to have thought they would miss me even a little, but that was wishful thinking. The world would have been far kinder to me had I learned to be cold and uncaring like them.
But I do not regret my love for Quasimodo, for goodness, for light.
The flames rose higher, and my heat began to burn through my new silk boots. I clenched my jaw, unwilling to yell or cry out even for a moment, although my fear was threatening to choke me, along with the smoke. The crowd watched on in relative silence, most of them pitying me, a girl they had seen this morning on her way to be wed. My viridescent eyes were beginning to blur from the strain of keeping them ajar, and I acknowledged that I was close to fainting from the fumes. My lungs were burning from attempts to breathe, and my heart was pounding as I struggled to stave off the inevitable.
The last memory I have is Phoebus jumping off of Achilles and running towards Frollo with a mad gleam in his eyes.
Then all was darkness.
I was swirling around, hearing clashes and wind rushing as seeing glimpses of red in the darkness. Is my soul searching for heaven? Am I dead? All I knew was that I was exhausted and everything was a jumbled mess. I was only sure of one voice, one voice I heard in the dark befuddlement that set my soul to rest.
Quasimodo.
I heard shouting, and then I felt myself being placed horizontally on an soft object. How odd, but I must still have my body. I couldn't feel anything, only Quasimodo. The world was Quasimodo for the moment.
I heard him crying to me, demanding I live, and I tried to nod but found I was unable to move my limbs or head to nod. I felt a distinct wetness falling upon my chest, and my heart ached for Quasimodo. Why is he sad? Are we both dead, and this is all an illusion?
Where is God?
Suddenly I could feel. I felt a hand tilting my head backwards and water being poured down my throat before stillness. My lungs were fighting, and I began to feel a slow ache run through my body. Suddenly I gasped for air, and my eyes opened to show a blurry Quasimodo who was staring at me in relieved shock.
"I- I thought you...I- You're alive!" I heard distantly, and I was gently laid back down before I could even begin to formulate a response. I was staring into his blue eyes, and I was home. As the world came back into focus, I saw a darkness in the corner with a gleaming weapon of some kind.
A dagger... but why would the darkness have a dagger? Wait, that is no spirit!
"Q-Quasi" I coughed brokenly, and as I tried to suck air back into my long dormant lungs, I pointed to the devil awaiting in the corner. Quasi, turn around! Oh mon Dieu!
Quasi noticed my distress and he turned just in time to catch Claude Frollo's wrist as he had been about to plunge the dagger into his heart. I heard Quasimodo screaming at Frollo in anger as he stole the dagger from his hand, tossing it away in disgust.
"How could you! She has shown me nothing but kindness, and you have shown me nothing but evil and ugliness! Adeline is everything good, and pure, and beautiful in the world and you almost took her from me. You lied to me!" Quasi raged in a voice so strong and self assured I stared at him in shock for a moment before beginning to smile at how much confidence he had gained before grimacing as I began coughing again.
I felt as if my lungs were attempting to dislodge themselves from my chest, and as my breathing became increasingly labored, I found it difficult to keep my eyes open. Suddenly someone was forcing air into my lungs and water down my throat, and it took a few moments before I felt I could breathe without feeling as if I was about to asphyxiate. Each breathe now is accompanied only with a slight twinge.
I opened my eyes, longing to look into the beautiful blue eyes I had grown accustomed too, but instead found myself staring into dull grey instead. Phoebus raised himself from the floor and helped me up, saying "I was wrong, Adeline. Frollo was wrong. He is trying to siege Notre Dame and overtake the Bishop and then the Monarchy... As well as rid the world of us and Quasimodo" he told me quickly while walking me to the door, and I struggled to keep up with his fast pace and ridiculous words. Take over Notre Dame? Overthrow the monarchy? Is it possible?
As if reading my thoughts, Phoebus sighed, "he has enough men under his power to make the uprising successful. His ability to burn you at the stake without trial showed his true power, and he decided then and there to become the King of France, beginning with his siege of Notre Dame." I stared at Phoebus with wide eyes, disbelieving, and he nodded solemnly. We looked away from one another, the memories and emotions between us too raw to bother with at the moment. Action is needed.
"Where is Quasi?" I asked in desperation, and Phoebes looked flabbergasted for a moment before a look of understanding passed and he cringed, looking away guiltily. Yes, I hope you feel guilty Captain! I love him and you allowed his torture to continue!
As we stormed down the stone pathway between the towers, Phoebus told me of Quasimodo's heroic rescue; how he ran out of Notre Dame and jumped upon the burning platform to untie me before carrying me inside the Cathedral, barricading the doors against the confused Parisians, and making his way up to the conjunction between the towers to claim "sanctuary" over my unconscious body. I smiled happily at that, relieved that he still cared for me.
As we reached the North tower, we heard a cry for help come from the ledge around the corner, and my heart momentarily stopped. I knew instantly it was Quasimodo, and began sprinting, cursing my tattered wedding dress that impeded my path. We arrived just in time for me to grab Quasimodo's hand. I clawed desperately in my panic to keep him from falling over one hundred feet to the stone square below.
"Quasi hold onto my hand!" I heard my voice scream in its raw state, and I struggled to hold onto his hand, but it was perspiring from the fear and exertion of holding his weight up, and he began to slip through my fingers as I cried out to no avail.
"Ah, if it isn't your savior, Lady Adeline" I heard Claude Frollo sneer viciously, and I looked about to find him perched upon a protruding lion's head over the stone railing, holding a dagger within his boney grip. His profile was framed by the fire of Paris burning below, as many houses surrounding the square having been set ablaze due to the uncontrollable flames from the riots below. The people were rioting against Frollo's army of men, and the streets were running red with blood and flames.
"And he shall smite the wicked and plunge them into the fiery pit!" Claude Frollo professed with demonic fire blazing in his eyes as he lifted the dagger high in order to plunge it into Quasimodo's unprotected back. No... Bon Dieu NO!
Abruptly Phoebus leapt over the ledge to push Frollo from his perch. I watched, astonished, as Frollo began to fall; he let out a mighty roar and he grabbed Phoebus' arm in his boney, unyielding grip; they both toppled over the protruding stone and into the fires of Paris below.
Even as I cried out for Phoebus, I clutched Quasimodo's hand tighter than ever, and lifted him enough so he could gain leverage to pull himself away from the precarious ledge. He climbed back over the railing, and we sank to the ground in stoney shock. One more second and Frollo would have... I began to silently cry, from exhaustion and pain and sadness that Phoebus had sacrificed his life to save Quasimodo, and I would never be able to thank him. As we both sat on the stone floor, panting, Quasimodo reached to pull me into his arms. I allowed him to hold me for an indefinable amount of time, before asking the question that was plaguing both of our minds.
"Why? Why did you tell Frollo about me?" I whispered into the smokey mist about us, hoping Quasimodo could hear me and yet wishing I had never made a sound. He sighed, "he tricked me, he told me he knew I had been harboring Esmerelda that night because a guard saw her sneaking up the tower where no one else goes. Then the next morning the same guard saw you sneaking down as, well, Adeline. Frollo said if I admitted to everything that he would spare your life and punish me in your stead... I was foolish to believe his treacherous lies!" Quasimodo huffed and leaned his head back, closing his eyes and avoiding my probing gaze. At least one answer is certain now, Quasimodo does care for me! He had offered himself as a sacrifice to allow me to go free.
I forgave his blunder immediately, for it was my fault for not being more discreet. Quasi continued in a quaking voice, "I was chained up here, exhausted from being beaten and whipped, when I heard the commotion from the square. He was tying you up, setting you on fire, and something within me broke" he whispered, as if recalling his worst nightmare, "I broke free and quickly tied a rope to scale down the wall of Notre Dame, in order to reach you, and by the time I had arrived Phoebus had forsworn my Mas- Frollo and the people were rising against the guards at Frollo's command. It seems he had a change of heart" Quasimodo said quietly as I began to cry anew, finally reaching the end of my emotional tether, wishing Phoebus and I could have found absolution. Apologized to one another and found kinship. Now he is gone.
Quasimodo stiffened and drew away from me until we were no longer touching, and I almost whimpered from the loss, needing his comfort and feeling unsettled.
"So, did you love him very much?" Quasimodo asked tonelessly, staring at the stone wall across from him. Well, more like glaring at it. Had I missed something? Why, he almost seems jealous! Hmm... Oh! Quasi must be confusing my sobs for those of someone mourning a lover. I almost laughed at the absurdity of his comment, knowing Phoebus and I had no love lost be twixt us, but I cringed when I realized I would be disrespecting the dead and his noble final sacrifice.
"No, I quite quite despised him... And how that saddens me, we never had a chance to apologize to one another. And he saved you! God have mercy on him," I cried out as tears once again welled up in my eyes, and Quasimodo leaned over to engulf me in his warm embrace as I sobbed from the horrors we had endured over the last fortnight. The tears continued to spill down my cheeks unceasingly, reflecting my mourning in their wake. I felt wetness upon my head, and when I glanced up, Quasimodo's eyes were brimming over with tears and his eyes shone with fearful recognition.
"I almost lost you," he whispered brokenly. And I nodded, we had almost lost each other. What would I have become without Quasimodo in my life? An unhappy married noble, attending balls and raising children and having no voice. Now, I had a voice. A voice that had caused Phoebus and others to rise up against the evil in Paris. And my courage is thanks to Quasi. I leant into him, ignoring the cried from down below and the smoke in the air around us. There would be time for the real world later, but right now, I just want to hold the man I had learned to love in my arms.
As if his heart yearning for my own, he whispered absentmindedly, "I love you, Adie." The world ceased spinning in that moment. What... wait. H-had he just admitted to-to loving me? My heart began to palpitate wildly as I tried to find the words to express my absolute happiness.
I felt him tense as he awaited my rejection. I slowly tilted my head back to peer into his nervous blue eyes. I saw vulnerability, fear, love, adoration, and longing within them; with a smile I kissed his ire away, softly peppering kisses on his mouth before nibbling his lower lip and pulling into my mouth, wishing to taste him. I saw his eyes grow wide before closing my own and smirking into the kiss. I love catching him unawares. I opened my mouth shyly, and as he gently explored my mouth with his tongue, I felt him sigh, our breathe lingering together as we kissed away the demons that lay between us.
"I love you, Quasi... more than anything" I said freely, gazing into his eyes and uncaring that my own were shining with unguarded adoration; pressing a kiss into his cheek and then jaw-line before settling back down onto his chest with a contented sigh, "I guess we are even now when it comes to rescue missions" I told him with a rye grin, and he chuckled while kissing the top of my head fondly, drawing his arms around me in a impenetrable fortress that allowed me to, for the first time in my memory, relax.
Paris is still facing a revolution between the commoners and the Paris officials. The world will always wage wars and bear heartless humans. But in our world, just in this moment, all was well.
Disclaimer: I still do not own The Hunchback of Notre Dame!