A waterfall's song seemed to grow louder and louder as this dark man went forth upon his horse. These woods were deep and unfamiliar, but they had fared well during these passed few days. A scout, was he, in search of the orphan charity that thrived within these woods, or so what he was told. He followed the sound of water right up until his steed came upon a nearly invisible ledge that overlooked the river below. It was quite an impossible feat to cross, to his point of view. But it was nonetheless important to take note of. With great care, the rogue rode along the ledge, memorizing every rock and tree before kicking the beast into a gallop. There were not many paths to follow, but that did not worry him in the slightest.
Back at the hidden camp, Quasimodo was just outside the resting tent, keeping vigil as the day wore on naturally. As he observed, he carved; his most passionate hobby through out his childhood. It being the only thing that could relax him. He soon took notice that he had finished and he looked his creation over. Rose happened to be sitting right next to him and she grew curious about the carving in his hand. Seeing her try to gain a better look, he smiled lightly and allowed her to hold it. It was the small carving of a rose bud, done deliberately from memory.
Knowing what it was, the girl smiled, even after her emotional morning. He smiled deeply at her again, allowing her to have a seat on his lap. Earlier she was in no happy mood for an hour since and it was such a sweet thing to see her smile. He worried constantly for her. It hurt him so to see her in pain now. It was as if her hurt was his.
"Are you all right?" he asked her, as if for the tenth time today. She nodded at him, rendering him to give her a kind kiss to her forehead.
Of all they went through for what it seemed for two weeks now, he truly began to realize just how much she meant to him. She was more to him than just a innocent he saved. Now, all he wanted in the world for her was happiness and safety. In truth, he never thought that he would feel this way, but his wish now was that he could always be there for her, to watch her grow, to teach her and to keep telling her how important she was.
The word father came to mind. That word was always on negative terms with him, especially after a betrayal so great that he should have foreseen it. He never truly knew of who a father was, since he always confused it with other nonsense, such as someone who controlled others, telling them what they should think or do. His thoughts then ran to what would he do if he was to lose her in some way, or in any way. The mere thought made him want to cry and his hug around the girl tightened.
Not too far away from them was the blind, who had gone not too far for a drink of water. She was making her shaky way back. Quasimodo heard the strikes of her stick getting closer and closer and gazed at her only to see her with her head low, seeming as though her glazed eyes were glued to the ground. She sat alone against a tree near the tent and didn't seem to know that he was there for a long moment.
"Agatha." came a voice that she did not expect.
At his voice, she went rigid for a second. She thought he was away with the DuBois. Apparently she was wrong.
"Oh. Good afternoon, Quasimodo." she said, hiding her embarrassment.
The solemn hunchback smiled back at her, fiddling with the carving he still held in his hand.
"Good afternoon. I…I was wondering where you might have … gone to. I had not heard from you since the dawn." he said to the blind with a good hint of concern in his voice, gentle.
Agatha listened and was compelled to smile, but she stubbornly held it back. She usually went off alone to ponder on things. But since she used to be alone every single day for most of her life, she had near forgotten that her fellow travelers would worry. Her act was slightly careless now that she thought about it. On his part, he took notice of her stubborn silence and his heart was filled with unease.
"I was just thinking on things." she said after a long moment. "I…well…I tend to do so a lot."
He and the little girl sat together and she looked over the wooden rose carving. Quasimodo had a tiny trace of a smile on his tired face before thinking of what to say. It was one of those times again when Agatha disliked herself, dearly. This man had shown so much since they had met back in that old inn. So kind and so brave during it all….What she thought earlier when she was away by herself for most of the day, was what she thought of her life…as nothing. Nothing in her life was virtuous. She lied, she drank, she lived in cowardice and contempt. While he had shown such kindness that no one would give to her in the years when she was healing. Her father was careless, making her work and tend to the home without any appreciation.
It was a wintery day when she was out, tending the cow that had traveled a few good miles away. Her father had not returned home the night prior, since he left to the nearest village to drown in the pub there. His sixteen year old was usually left with her own, managing to bake and milk the cow that enjoyed to run away all the time. It was all she was good at. That and bird watching. When the birds came and sang each dawn, she'd wake and listen and watch from the window. Such beautiful things…the birds, the sky, the river…. She didn't care much of being alone. She found it most peaceful being alone….
"Agatha?" his voice came, highly welcomed actually. She was going too far again.
The blind shook awake, noticing that he was right by her, setting down a water bucket by her. Also, there was the smell of bread and he held a plate of some.
"You had been gone since dawn, I… you…you should eat." was his suggestion as he sat next to her.
"Quasimodo…you know, well…. No." she shook her head, feeling bad for worrying him. And now she felt more like a burden.
"Please…" he said, looking at her genuinely. She could tell he was looking at her and she stubbornly took a piece of the bread and began to eat. It calmed her stomach after the first bite, which was good.
"Thanks." she said to him, feeling idiotic for having her cursed pride.
He kept gazing at her, full of woe that she was alone for so much. Or did she enjoy it? In fact, how could she enjoy it? For him, it was proven impossible if it had led him to talk to bells and gargoyles for company.
The two were in silence for quite some time as he allowed her to eat and drink. And there to be three other observers, other than Rose, who seemed distracted again by some strange sound. Laverne had been peering at the trio, keeping herself well disguised as a rock. A stray hoof of stone poked her.
"Hey, move it. Can I see?" Hugo tried to nudge.
"No, you dimwit, shove off." the old bird growled quietly back.
Victor swallowed nervously when he saw Quasimodo and Agatha sitting together. Rose turned her head when Hugo so foolishly fell. It was a loud muffled sound and intrigued her to go see what the sound was. But when she went too far for Quasimodo's comfort, she heard him call her back right when she seemed so close to the hiding stone beasts.
"Rose…. Don't you go too far." Quasi's voice stopped her and she ran back.
Laverne sighed in relief before striking Hugo on the head.
"Good job, lummax!" she cursed.
"Thanks a ton!" Hugo soured.
Back at the trio, Agatha was taking her final bites of the bread he gave her. Agatha wisely chose to break the annoying silence.
"You sound like a mum." she joked at him and made him laugh a little.
"I'm sorry, Agatha…. I just… I worry." he explained, as truthful as could be as he kept his eyes on the girl.
"You worry much more and you'll turn into a mother." she teased, swallowing the last of the bread and began to laugh.
Him? He was not so keen of laughing,
"Humor me." he sighed, giving her a sly half smile as he shook his head.
"What? It's true!" she then said, holding back her laughter.
It wasn't taken as an offense, really. When she wasn't angry, she was quite a good friend to be with. Despite her snarky outbursts. He just smiled at her before gazing down, back to Rose. As well as Agatha returning to seriousness.
"Forgive me… I go too far. But I know how much she means to you." she sighed, feeling warm in her heart.
She felt him get closer. He was touched at what she said. She was in a battle with herself, against so many fears of losing him or him pushing her away, but she saw that…with a person like himself…he would never push anyone away…. It dawned on her that it was something he could never do. So many loyalties he had…to Rose, Esmeralda…that lame horse and even to the Burrowers and lastly…her. He worried about her, she noticed, constantly and she felt responsible to his uneasiness most of the time. Yelling at him, insulting him…so many regrets she had shown. Her feelings had grown for him, the more she thought about them. He was nothing like how her father was and nothing like other men who usually showed contempt to those who bore a weakness or ailment of any sort. She had to admit to herself. She had to shake out of her denial. She was falling for him and she knew that feeling. And she was falling hard and it frightened her because of the worry of being hurt. But he would never…would he?
She soon felt him take her hand and he realized that it was ice cold. "Agatha?" he asked. "You're so quiet. Please, speak to me." he worried again.
"I…" her voice ran cracked. "…it's nothing for you to worry about, Quasimodo." she then lied again. Oh Lord, have me drown please!
His brow hardened and so did his grip around her hand. To his judgement, although he had a hate for it, she always seemed scared to him…not crude. And he could tell that she was hiding a lot and it was all hurting her.
"I…I-I just want you to know, Agatha…. You can tell me…anything." he said, sure in his word.
She sighed and gave him a nod.
Oh Agatha...you can trust him... :(