Disclaimer: I do not own Hugo's Hunchback of Notre Dame nor do I own the Disney version.

Agnes involuntarily took a step forward; the hunchback turned and saw her. The two studied each other briefly. Agnes saw his abnormalities at a closer range, saw the misshapen nose, the horrid lump above a swollen eye. A well-bred maiden would have covered her eyes; others would have fled or perhaps even fainted. But Agnes was not some squeamish little damsel. Besides, she had already seen his face and therefore his deformities did not come as a shock. She wasn't afraid. Imagine, being afraid of mere deformity! What was so frightening about twisted bones? He had an ugly face, yes, but not an evil one, and Agnes knew that the hunchback would not harm her. She also knew that Clopin's stories about the bell-ringer were utter nonsense. Still, she could not help studying his face with intrigued curiosity. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. The hunchback was aware of her stares and shamefully gathered together his tattered garment then covered his face with his broad hands. It was this heartrending gesture that made Agnes return to reality. Her face became hot with embarrassment. She didn't like it when people gaped at her whenever she danced and there she was, gawking at a deformed man.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out with sincere remorse. "I didn't mean to… I know it's rude to…" Her voice trailed off. He did not seem to be listening.

"You don't have to cover your face," she heard herself say. "I already know what you look like." Now she received a response; the hunchback slowly lowered his arms. Agnes reached into her pocket and withdrew a handkerchief. "You've got some- something in your hair… Here, let me…"

"My son?"

It was a low, soothing voice, yet it made both Agnes and the hunchback jolt in alarm. She dropped the handkerchief; it fluttered to the ground like a broken-winged butterfly. A rotund man in priestly robes came forward. Though his face was etched in concern, Agnes could tell that he was normally a kind-looking man. "My son, what happened to you out there? What did they do to you?" He eyed the pieces of rotted pulp clinging to the hunchback's red hair along with the welts on his arms that looked as though they had been caused by ropes chaffing against the skin. He seemed to understand. The benign face darkened. "Does Frollo know about this?"

"He knows," Agnes said and there was ferocity of her voice. "He was there. I heard him."

The hunchback bowed his head. "I got what I deserved," he said sorrowfully and added, "I will ring the bells now, sir."

"It is not necessary, Quasimodo," the man said with stern kindness. "The people know that today is the Feast of the Epiphany and they know that Mass will be starting soon."

"It is my job." And the hunchback hastened away.

The priest sighed and shook his head dejectedly. "Twenty years. Twenty years and he is as unfeeling as ever," he said to himself. He regarded Agnes momentarily, casting her a welcoming nod and began to light the surrounding candles.

The cathedral doors opened again. Agnes turned, expecting to see Esmeralda. Only it was not her foster sister. Agnes made a choking sound and her fingers rose to cover her wildly beating heart in an instinctive gesture of fear. Frollo. Frollo in Notre Dame and less then ten feet away. She immediately secured her cloak, making sure that her outlandish attire was covered and retreated further into the shadowy interior. The priest meanwhile looked from her to Frollo and back again at her. He gave her an inquiring expression, but immediately seemed to understand the reason behind Agnes's terror.

"You will be quite safe, my dear," he muttered faintly. "I do not agree with the judge's persecution of gypsies."

Agnes looked at the man in amazement. He knew what she was... The disguise that fooled so many others did not fool him.

"I didn't do anything wrong," she whispered as though the priest's reassuring words had not penetrated through her head. "Please, sir, don't let him know that I'm here… Please, I beg you…"

The priest nodded. "You have nothing to fear."

Frollo glided passed them, removing his triangle-shaped hat. Agnes cautiously took several steps back.

"FROLLO!" the priest barked harshly. "I saw the boy, Frollo, and I am aware of what happened out there. What is the meaning of this? Why did you not put an end to such cruelty?"

Agnes was stunned by the severity of the man of the church. It just then occurred to her that this was the archdeacon, the very same fellow Clopin often spoke of. He always said that the archdeacon was the only one who dared to challenge Frollo. Well, him and Esmeralda, she thought. Feeling quite safe in the archdeacon's presence, Agnes discretely crept forward again. She was almost amused by the archdeacon's chastisement and relished the fact that it was none other than the judge who received it.

"I warned Quasimodo what would happen if he left the bell tower," Frollo now answered composedly. "And what I said would happen happened. The people reviled him as a monster, just as I said they would. He has nobody to blame but himself."

"You could have stopped it-"

The judge's unruffled façade began to waver. "You had me raise him as though he was my son and now you dare lecture me on my parenting?"

"Yes," the archdeacon countered coldly. "Yes, I am lecturing you on your parenting, if you can call it that. It's a miracle that boy isn't entirely warped because of your malice. It's bad enough that you have brainwashed him. Do you know what the boy just said to me? 'I got what I deserved.' Because of you, the lad believes that he is a monster and therefore should be treated like one." The archdeacon shook his head repentantly. "I thought perhaps caring for the boy would teach you some compassion, but now I see that I made a mistake, a very grave mistake. I regret it highly." The archdeacon turned his back on the judge and added, "I never should have allowed you to take possession of him. I ought to beg for Quasimodo's forgiveness for what I've done." He paused. "You haven't told him the full truth, have you? You never told him what really happened that night-"

Frollo interrupted him. "You swore to me that you would never again mention the incident!"

The archdeacon sighed but did not reply.

Frollo continued to stare at him with undisguised fury. It looked as though he wanted to strike the archdeacon. Abruptly the judge turned his gaze on Agnes. "What are you staring at?"

"Nothing." Agnes looked down at her feet. "Sir."

"Then why are you just standing there, girl?"

The archdeacon turned around. "Leave the child alone, Frollo. She just came from confession."

Frollo's eyes narrowed. "And what was her sin?"

"That," the archdeacon replied grimly, "is between God, her and myself. It does not involve you, Frollo." His tone turned gentle. "That reminds me… I never told you what you must do for penance, did I?" he asked Agnes kindly.

For a fraction of a second Agnes stared at him in bewilderment. She then went along with the charade. "No, sir. You didn't." To think that the archdeacon was lying! Lying inside a church! Not only that, but he was encouraging her to lie as well!

"A rosary must be prayed three times a day, once before each meal…"

"Yes sir," Agnes murmured. "I will do as you say and…" She saw that the judge had left them and abruptly dropped the act. "Thank you… I never expected you to lie for me, but still… You cannot imagine how grateful I am. Thank you…"

"I do not condone telling falsehoods," the archdeacon said, "but to hand you over to Frollo would be a much greater sin." He glanced over his shoulder. "I see that Frollo is attending Mass. You are safe now, child." The archdeacon left.

I'm not staying in the cathedral, not when Frollo's in here as well, Agnes thought. What if Frollo approached her when the archdeacon was not around? She was never a risk-taker, but now Agnes was willing to take a chance and attempt to return to the Court of Miracles. The entrance behind the Apple of Eve Tavern- That was the safest. The bells began to chime as Agnes exited the cathedral.

The rain still falling and the streets were covered with puddles. Agnes's bare feet sloshed through them, her toes squishing in the mud. There were still soldiers, but not as many as there was before. Agnes made an effort to ignore them but stopped suddenly when three of them were in her path. She considered returning to the cathedral, but decided against it for retreat would only arouse suspicion. Agnes tried to stride past them with unruffled steps as though she was entitled to stroll the city streets like an ordinary citizen. Yet Agnes could not quite control her hasty, dodging steps. Her movements were similar to those of a startled rabbit, and the soldiers, being like a pack of dogs, sensed her terror and surrounded her. Had they been common street thieves, Agnes would have withdrawn her concealed dagger. She had used the weapon before, usually when ragged homeless boys attempted to steal her earnings. But these were soldiers, and threatening them with a weapon was a sure way of getting arrested.

"Please let me pass."

"You seem to be in a hurry."

"That's because I am cold and wet," Agnes replied. "And I really do not care for wandering around in the rain. Now, please, let me pass…"

They laughed at her request. "No, we don't enjoy wandering around in the rain either. Nor do we like patrolling the streets for gypsies who can't keep their mouths shut. It's a rather dull job. But now that we have you to entertain us…"

One of them suddenly grabbed her waist callously, his fingers digging into her flesh, and pressed his mouth against hers. Agnes responded by taking a panicked swing at the one who had forcefully kissed her, her fist colliding into his head; he was unscathed by the attack. The others seemed to enjoy her sudden flare of crazed agitation. Unanimously discovering an amusing game to take part in, the one who had kissed her shoved her into the waiting arms of his friend. It was he who tore off Agnes's hooded cloak, exposing what was underneath: a green and white dancing frock, a single gold looped earring and an outlandish headdress of metallic spangles.

"What's this? Looks like we caught ourselves a little gypsy!"

"I'm not a gypsy! I'm not, I'm not!" Agnes shook her head frantically. "It's January sixth! That's why I'm dressed like this, to take part in the festivities!"

For a fraction of a second Agnes believed that they were convinced by her frantic lie and that they would let her go free. Yet one stared at her intently before saying rather quickly, "Wait! I've seen you perform in the streets with the other gypsies!"

"No, I think she's telling the truth. She doesn't have gypsy features," said the soldier who had kissed her. "And look at her coloring. She's too light for a gypsy."

"I've seen brown-haired, light-eyed gypsies before."

"But I'm not a gypsy!" Agnes protested.

The third soldier who until now was silent suddenly spoke up. "I've seen her before. She is a gypsy, I bet my life on it. She danced at the festival last year. Real slow and tantalizing little performance. How can any of us forget? Hell, I even gave her a few gold coins." He grinned at her. "You sure know how to bring out lustful urges, don't you, you delightful gypsy strumpet? Look, see how she blushes!"

It was that blaze in her cheeks that had doomed her. They were all convinced.

"Speaking of Frollo," the first soldier said seriously, "we've got orders to haul in any gypsy we come across."

And before Agnes could run off, before she could even react, her hands were manacled behind her back. "Why are you doing this? What have I done? What crime did I commit?"

"Public disturbance," the first soldier answered simply.

"And likely stealing," said the second.

"Don't forget witchcraft," added the third.

With that, Agnes was hauled to the Palace of Justice.

Arthur's Note: I've got to admit that this chapter gave me an insane amount of grief. I originally had Agnes say a small prayer while she was in the cathedral, but then I realized I was practically ripping off "God Help the Outcasts." I then planned for Agnes to visit the bell tower, but decided against it because I seriously could not come up with a good reason for Agnes to even go up there.

I want to thank Renarde Rouge, Sword Tiger Kitty and DemonicBrat13 for their wonderfully kind reviews.