Chapter Thirteen:

Little blossom, shining in the sun

Without anyone to love you

What will you blossom into

Without anyone to hold you

How will you grow?

"Blossom" Ryan Adams

Quasimodo was lying on his back. He felt the awkward hump of his spine against the wood floor of the bell tower. Above him somewhere were the gaping mouths of the bells, now silent and swallowing his gaze. When they sang they shook the whole tower and filled it with life but it was just nearing sunrise and at night the tower slept.

He hoisted his twisted body into a sitting position and eyed the belfry warily. Here and there he could make out shapes in the scant light such as the claws and horns and wings of gargoyles and grotesques, the empty eyes of saints, broken spires and columns.

He must have fallen asleep at some point in the night. He remembered returning to the bell tower after going to the dyers shop the previous evening and sitting on the wood floor to mix up some paint. A nearby candle that had been reduced to a waxy puddle confirmed that yes this was the case.

The dyers shop. Quasi thought. He groaned. The night before he'd told himself that just because he was going to try to make something for Andie, didn't mean he actually had to give it to her. Technically she didn't have to know about it at all. Now he had a knot in his stomach though. Even admitting to himself that he had feelings for her was something of a tragedy.

Frollo would have said that even dreaming about pleasures brought on by the opposite sex was dangerous to ones immortal soul and that it was nearly as bad as acting on them. Quasimodo didn't have much experience with this sort of thing…even in his dreams, but he could see how even thinking that there might be a chance…it was foolish. Granted, his imagination generally shut down at the merest notion of any sort of physical contact, mostly out of self-defense.

He sighed heavily as he stood up and headed down a ladder toward the tangled curtain that hid his bed. There he shed his clothing. He shivered in the early morning chill as he fished a shirt and tights out of his belongings. As he dressed he kept his gaze ahead of him, resting on the large stone hand where another candle sat, while his red hair hung in his eyes.

When he was younger, nine maybe ten, it was hard to keep track of time, Frollo had told him that gazing upon his body was a sin, because God had chosen to make him in the image of a demon because of the crimes of his wicked mother. Quasimodo no longer believed most of what Frollo had said, but he still averted his gaze from his own body and reflection. It was just for quite different reasons. He remembered the first time he'd seen his reflection. He shivered again, this time it was not because of the chill.

After he dressed he rang the bells and then headed down into the cathedral to replace the candlesticks in the church. There were very few people praying at the benches and one or two of them were priests.

He finished lighting the candles underneath the rose window where Maria stood. By then the sun had grown bright, and because of this the stained glass was giving off a large multifaceted reflection. After he removed the melted candle ends and replaced them with the fresh ones he sat down at the base of the statue and removed one of the white lilies in the vase that rested near Maria's bare feet. He held it up to the light for a moment and admired it as it took on the colors of the stained glass.

"Hey. Good morning." Quasi jumped. Pheobus leaned on one of the pillars with a smile. He looked vaguely amused. "What are you doing?"

"I-I was just…replacing the candles." Quasimodo replied guiltily as he gently placed the lily back into the vase.

"Ah, I went up to the bell tower and you weren't there. Figured you were doing some chore." He seemed to remember something and reached towards his belt. He pulled out a stricken puppet. It seemed to be missing its head. "Clopin sent me down here with this. I guess he got a little carried away or something…I don't know." Quasi took the puppet from him and eyed it wearily.

"Honestly I think he was trying to get rid of me. Esme's practicing her dance for the festival and he thinks I'm getting in her way." He added. "If you don't want to fix it…"

"I can fix it." Quasimodo interrupted as he turned it over in his massive hands.

"All right. I know the festival's getting pretty near and Esme told Clopin not to bother you if you were busy…"

"I-Its all right." There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Pheobus spoke again.

"It should be a good one this year. The Feast of Fools I mean. I hear the butcher has a huge pig he's going to roast and there should be no end to ale. The play might not go over too well, but at least Clopin's puppet show should be mildly entertaining. I just hope Bastion doesn't take it too seriously. The last thing we need is a bunch of gypsies being put in the stocks over a play."

"Would they do that during the festival?" Quasimodo asked.

"I think he might." Pheobus eyed Quasimodo for a moment before his stormy expression was replaced once more with his usual playful fascia. "In any case, it'll be a good one to go to. And you wont have to worry about Frollo this year. So…are you going to ask your friend to come?" There was a brief flash of panic in Quasimodo's eyes before he stood from the base, taking the headless puppet and the old candle ends with him.

"I-I don't know." He said. In fact, he hadn't thought about it.

"You should." Pheobus said with the hint of a smile. "I'm sure she'd probably enjoy it. Oh right, Esme told me to ask you if you'd like to come down to the Court Of Miracles tonight. There'll probably be indefinable stew and you can watch Esme's dance…you know…before she does it at the festival." Quasimodo frowned a little.

"I uh…I have a lot of chores to do tonight." He said quietly, while thinking of the glassblowing lesson.

"Can't you put them off till tomorrow?" Pheobus asked. It was generally his impression that Quasimodo tended to do most of the things Esmerelda asked him to do.

"I…no…it's…I can't. Sorry." He added as he headed towards the nearest stairway. Pheobus opened his mouth to say something else and then shut it again.

"Hmm…ok..." He said a little bewilderedly.

XXX

Later that morning, at the hotel de saint pol, Andie went about her chores moodily. Adeline had expressed to her how important it was to keep herself from being seen by important people while Isabelle was still recovering, in case they recognized her, even without the makeup and fine clothes, so she was wearing a scarf over her hair had her hood was pulled up. Currently she was walking down to the well to draw water for Isabelle's bath. Alain and Charlotte were trailing after her, each carrying their own bucket.

"If Bastion marries you, will you be a princess?" Charlotte asked as Andie set one of her buckets down at the side of the well and began lowering the other into the water.

"He's not going to marry me. This is only temporary until Isabelle gets better." Andie replied, not taking her eyes off of the darkness of the well.

"But what if he falls in love with you? Ooh wouldn't that be romantic!" Charlotte said, her eyes lighting up. Alain kicked at a stone and said nothing, but he did cast his sister a brief, dark look.

"He doesn't even know me Charlotte. He thinks I'm her." Andie replied.

"Oh but you could live in a great big castle and have lots of servants to draw your bath and wash your clothes and all you'd have to do is sit around and drink wine." Andie pulled the first bucket out of the well with a gloomy smile and started to lower the second.

"That sounds rather boring, doesn't it?" She replied. "Besides I don't really like wine." After the second bucket was filled she reached out toward Alain who handed her his bucket quietly. Andie smiled at him. "Isabelle's more suited for that kind of thing." She continued. "I think I'd go mad doing nothing all of the time."

"Well, you must at least admit, Lord Bastion would make a wonderful husband. He's so handsome. Even Faye said…well I didn't understand most of it…but I do know that she rather likes…" Charlotte lowered her voice at this point. "…his backside." She blushed and giggled.

"I think it's probably a blessing you don't understand most of the things she says." Andie said with a grunt as she set Alain's bucket on the ground. The water sloshed back and forth. "I'm not all that worried about marriage Charlotte. Hand me your bucket." She added.

"Well I want to get married. And my husband shall be quite handsome." She said dreamily.

"I don't think he's very handsome." Alain mumbled bitterly.

"Well you don't know anything." Charlotte replied. "I think he's the most handsome man I've ever seen."

"Well then Charlotte, you can dress up as Isabelle and dine with him then." Andie said as she handed Alain one of the filled buckets. "…and I'll go and do more productive things. Walk slowly, try not to spill." She added as she handed Charlotte another bucket and picked up the other two.

"Why don't you want to marry him?" Charlotte asked after a moment as they headed back to the hotel de Saint pol. "If I were you I would and then I'd tell Miss Isabelle to fetch her own water." Andie smiled wanly.

"I think perhaps, you're a little young to understand. But one thing I can tell you is that there are more important things for a man to have other then a nice backside."

XXX

Much later, after Isabelle had had her bath and Andie had fed the horse and cleaned the stables she walked down to the servants quarters quietly. Alain had gone down to Adeline's room to light her fireplace and Charlotte was helping Faye with dinner. (Or rather she was sitting near Faye while the older women worked and occasionally told her not to touch things.) Andie peaked into the room where Alain and Francois were staying with some of the other male servants to check to make sure the old man was there. The room was empty. Andie sighed.

She closed the door and went looking for him. She tried the hallways with the tapestries first and then began searching the rooms, while trying to remain as surreptitious as possible. A couple of people gave her some weird looks but for the most part they left her alone.

Eventually she found him in an empty storage room on one of the upper floors. It looked like it might have once been a bedroom, hence the now closed off dumbwaiter on one of the barren walls. It was covered in old tapestries and furniture that had probably been pushed up from other places in the massive building. There were also wooden boxes cluttered around stone supports. Francois was sitting on one of the boxes and having a conversation with a tapestry that had been draped over a nearby chair. Andie eyed it briefly before approaching the older man.

"What are you doing up here, Francois?" She asked.

"Ah, Emily. I was just complimenting Miss Dubois on her lovely house. Have a seat and join us for wine."

"Er…I think I'll pass. You should get back to your room, or at least go down to the kitchen with Faye." She said as she helped him up.

"Oh all right." He said, before bowing to the tapestry. "So lovely to see you again."

"You know this is such a nice old house." He said as he followed her out into the hall. "We used to have a big dumbwaiter like that one where I worked as a boy. We hid in it and we'd pull each other up and down…or we'd wait up in one of the rooms and when the master's meals came up we'd spit in his wine."

"I don't think this place could really be called a house. Why'd you spit in his wine?" Andie asked.

"He was a louse. Course eventually they caught us and beat us, but it took a while and he'd sure drunk his share of wine by then." He laughed a wheezy sputtering laugh. Andie gave him a vague smile.

Once Francois was back in his and Alain's room Andie returned to her own.

She took some flint and steel and went to the fireplace. After a spark caught and the fire was crackling and giving off a warm glow she headed over to the dresser and pulled out a bundle of cloth. She unwrapped it and removed the book that Sargent had given her when she left the hospice.

Andie sat down on the edge of the bed and flipped through the pages absently. A couple of the pages were marked. Some of them by Sarge, probably back when he'd still been able to see. Other's she had done herself. She stopped at a page that featured an ink drawing of the bells at the Notre Dame. There were a few tiny markings beside them, measurements and such.

Andie smiled a little and skimmed over the spidery writing carefully before walking over towards the window, book still in her hand and eyeing the horizon where the Notre Dame stood for real. As if on cue the bells began to ring. After a thoughtful moment she grabbed her cane and pulled on her boots. She wrapped the book back up and tucked it in her apron before heading towards the door.

She nearly ran into Charlotte on her way out.

"Hey, sorry." The girl said. "Faye says she needs you in the kitchen right away." Charlotte paused. "Were you going somewhere?" She asked as she eyed Andie's cloak and cane curiously.

"I was just…I mean…nothing never mind. Tell her I'll be right down."

Charlotte nodded and hurried off. Andie hung her cloak back up by the window morosely. She eyed the battered cover of the book as she set it back on the dresser with a sigh.

"Another time then." She said under her breath.

"Good afternoon Miss Beauvais." Andie jumped and spun around. She frowned when she saw Captain Gage standing in the doorway. Andie grabbed her cane again and circled around him.

"Good afternoon," she said coolly. "And it isn't Miss Beauvais, as you are surely aware." He followed after her as she walked down the hallway. Andie groaned inwardly.

"Very well then, how shall I address you madam?"

"What do you want?" Gage's slightly condescending smile faded a little.

"You could try being civil."

"If I see someone whose worth the civility then I shall." She said quietly, though not so quietly that he could not make it out.

"Well, since you ask I am a little curious as to why you and your mistress insist on continuing this charade. His lordship doesn't have the best temper. At this point you'll be lucky merely to be turned away."

"Why haven't you told him then?" Andie asked while trying to keep ahead of him despite her aching leg.

"It isn't my business anymore. The Duke sent Marcel to make sure Lord Bastion gets married. It isn't my fault if he's bad at his job."

"Well then why are you bothering me?" Andie said as she finally reached the door to the kitchen.

"I suppose I was just extending some courtesy. I know the concept might be foreign to you."

"How kind of you." Andie said darkly as she shut the door firmly behind her. Gage scowled at it as it nearly swung into his face.

XXX

After finishing all of his chores, Quasimodo spent much of the rest of the afternoon attempting to paint the carved houses in his model of the city. It was far more difficult then usual because his hands kept shaking. Occasionally he looked up past the rafters at the increasingly fading sunlight. Finally, when it had dwindled to a glow, he stood and pulled his dark green cloak over his shoulders and grabbed a lantern that was handing on a hook on the wall. He lit it with one of his candles and headed towards the stairs.

XXX

Meryle had been stoking the fires in the furnace for the past hour. He'd also set out all of the tools him and his brother used for glassblowing. Now he was pacing around the warm room nervously. He massaged his gloved hands, which had become quite sweaty beneath the fabric, and eyed the doorway that led into the dyers shop somewhat frantically.

He peered through it. He could see into the room on the far side where his brother had fallen asleep. Technically he didn't have to look, on account of his thunderous snoring, but he still felt the need to make certain. His father had closed shop an hour prior and had gone out with a friend of his to the tavern. He hoped dearly that his father would stay out a long time.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a point of light through the window, on the dark street of Rue St Martin. It was a lantern. He scrambled to the door and opened it a crack before the hunchback could knock.

"Go round the side. There's another door." He said in a harsh whisper while motioning to his right. He shut the door again and swallowed heavily. "I'm insane. I'm insane. My dad is going to beat me when he finds out…" Meryle whispered to himself as he moved back towards furnace room. "I'm teaching the one eyed devil how to blow glass and I'm insane." This name he'd actually heard from some of the children on the street, on those few occasions when he wasn't working for his father or brother.

The door into the glassblowing shop had been open. Meryle returned to the room in time to see Quasimodo enter it uneasily. He was wearing a hooded cloak. When he came through the door he blew the lantern out and set it down, but did not lower his hood, possibly out of shame, or maybe he kept it on for Meryle's benefit.

Meryle eyed him warily. In the meager light the hunchback cast strange shadows and the glow hit his face in a frightening way, setting off the many folds and creases in his visage. The hood actually almost made it worse. Meryle swallowed and motioned for Quasimodo to sit, afraid that if he spoke his voice would betray his trepidation. In all of the occasions where the hunchback had come to his father for supplies it had been daytime. Quasimodo seemed much more frightening at night.

"Er, I'll um…I guess I'll show you how to get started." He picked up a blowpipe with a shaky hand and neared the furnace. "Take the other pipe. Be careful with it." He added the last while casting a brief nervous look at Quasimodo's huge hands.

"To get liquid glass you put limestone and sand and ash in very hot fire. We keep this furnace going usually." He said, awkwardly, while avoiding eye contact. Quasimodo picked up the second pipe with a gentle hand and watched Meryle patiently as he stuck the pipe into the lip of the oven.

XXX

At the same time in the Hotel de Saint Pol Bastion was playing chess with a rather luckless guard, who was having a difficult time finding moves that he could make without taking out any of the Prince's pieces. It didn't help that he had Marcel glaring at him every time he moved his hand over the wrong piece nor that Theobald was sitting on the other side of him giving him tips, apparently oblivious to his struggle. The chessboard was large and like everything else in the room extremely extravagant. The pieces seemed to be made out of some kind of marble. The prince's pieces were jade colored.

Captain Gage sat by a nearby window morosely and watched the game with boredom.

"I trust your dinner went well yesterday evening, milord?" Marcel said while jabbing the prince's opponent in the back to call his attention to the fact that he was about to make a decent play. The guard quickly altered his move.

"Quite well. I should like to see more of Miss Beauvais." Bastion replied. Gage make a grunting noise from his place by the window, before Marcel could answer. The man gave him a sharp look.

"Do you have a qualm Captain Gage?" He asked while looking at the man as someone might look at a cockroach.

"There are many pretty women here. I just don't see why you insist on spending so much of your time with her."

"Oh? And what is the matter with her?" Bastion asked, without looking up.

"Among other things, that woman has no manners." Gage replied.

"Certainly not for you." Bastion said irately. "She is a little odd, I admit but there's something fascinating about her. And besides, there's nothing like marriage to tame a difficult woman."

"Well said milord." Said Marcel. Gage rolled his eyes.

"I don't mean to speak out of turn, Lord Bastion but perhaps you should spend some time in the company of another woman before you talk of marrying this one." He said the last two words with venom on his tongue.

Bastion waved him away wearily.

"It's your move." He said to the guard, who was staring at the board so intensely that his vision had begun to blur.

"Er…yes lord."

"You take much too long and yet your moves have been dreadful. Perhaps strategy is not your strong point."

"I guess not, lord." He said while moving a pawn to what was likely the only place on the board that wouldn't get him anywhere.

"Although we find your opinion most enlightening captain," Marcel continued as the Prince prepared to move his knight. "You must remember that his majesty does not have much time. He can hardly see every girl. In fact, it may be wise to start sending some of them away." He said, with some inflection.

"Yes, do so." The Prince responded absently. "Perhaps Mistress Leveque and Gravois. Master Gravois is practically a peasant and Miss Leveque's nose puts me in the mind of a snout."

"I think they're both rather prettier then Miss Beauvais." Gage mumbled, although not quietly enough to not be heard.

"If you like girth." Bastion countered.

"Strong child bearing figures." Marcel corrected. "But it is your decision. I will send a servant to give them the news directly." Bastion nodded in an offhand manner, while examining the chessboard.

"Checkmate. It appears you've lost." He said as he took out the guard's king. The guard smiled with nervous relief. It had been all he could do not to direct the Prince to the right spaces. "Perhaps next time." He said while he motioned for the man to clear things up.

XXX

I intended for this chapter to be done much sooner. I'm finally on summer break but the first few weeks have been rather strange. It seems to have finally settled down so hopefully from now on I'll be able to update regularly. Also, I've started taking my computer to work again (I'm actually there now) and I have a lot of down time during my shifts so about the only thing I can do is read or write.

This chapter is kind of filler, which is another thing I'm sorry about. There will be one, maybe two more chapters before the feast of fools then after that A LOT will happen and the rest of the story should actually go pretty quickly.

Anyways I hope it turned out all right. Thank you for the reviews. I really appreciate it. : )