Okay, you know how I said this was going to be the last chapter? Well, it's not. I know, I know, but it appears I have a bit more to explore than I thought. Despite how long this chapter is. A boy! Long chapter is long! 5,933 words total not including author's notes. Anyway, so expect one more chapter after this and maybe *cough* something a bit extra after that! Sorry, can't say what that might be, but I do believe everyone will enjoy it. Stay tuned!

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Healing

Third Person

Sophia's POV

For a moment, all hung in peaceful silence. Sophia could feel that whatever strength she had regained from being immobile for the past several minutes, was gone. She was exhausted. Confronting Frollo had not just been emotionally tiring, it had also been physically so. It was as if someone had removed all the bones in her legs, it was so hard to keep upright. She leaned heavily against Quasi's side, knowing that she had not the strength to do so herself. All she wanted was to sleep. Just sleep. The young redhead briefly wondered if she would ever be able to move again.

"Sophia?"

Quasi's gentle, bell-like tones broke through her thoughts and she tilted her head slightly to look at him.

"Hmm?" Was all she could muster to ask.

He smiled that small, gentle smile of his and said softly, "Come, let us bring you home."

"Home." She nodded slowly in agreement, her eyes beginning to drift. "Home sounds nice."

Suddenly she was lifted off her feet and into an all to familiar pair of arms. This was beginning to be quite a habit. Far too exhausted to fight, she snuggled deeper into Quasi's arms and closed her eyes. Surely it would be alright if she just rested for a while?

"Sophia," Quasi shook her slightly, his tone coming across more firm than before. "You must try to stay awake."

She groaned. She didn't want to be awake. "Must I?"

"I am afraid so," Quasi replied gently, sympathy and a hit of worry in his voice.

She sighed heavily and forced her lids open a crack. "Better?"

"It is an improvement." Yet she could hear the doubt and concern beneath the statement.

They began to pick their way through the crowd, Esmeralda and her family at either side (Lea was forced between Pascal and Clare, just in case). Their fellow Parisians parted and made no move to stop them, letting them pass without incident. Yet, Sophia couldn't help but notice that something was different about them. Their expressions were softer, kinder, though she had the distinct feeling it was not because of her or her physical state. In fact, most of them barely glanced her way. Rather, they seemed to be gazing at . . . Quasi. It was Quasi they were looking at. They no longer gazed at him with disgust or fear. They did not jeer or shout at him as he passed. Nor did they flinch away when he looked at them. Then, suddenly, something purple and gold flashed just out of the corner of Sophia's vision. When she turned to see what it was, she smiled widely.

Atop one of the poles left over from the festival, still bearing the remains of the colorful banners that once hung there, was the infamous King of the Gypsies himself. Dressed in his trademark jester's costume and extravagant purple hat complete with golden feather, the man leaned out over the crowd and threw out an arm in a rather wild motion.

"Three cheers, for Quasimodo!" Clopin Trouillefou crowed triumphantly, a mischievous grin spread wide across his dark features.

Sophia did not know who began it, but someone, somewhere, took up a rallying cry. Then two more voices joined. Then ten. Ten became twenty. Twenty became fifty. Fifty became a hundred. No matter where she turned, everywhere she looked, Parisians and gypsies alike were cheering and reaching over to thump Quasi on the back. A burly man with a small black beard and mustache reached over them and ruffled his hair playfully, offering them a wide, friendly grin. An elderly woman in a graying shawl came up and patted his cheek, a gentle smile upon her face. But, perhaps, the most touching of all, was when a small child, no more than the age of seven, slowly drew away from her mother and came forward.

She stopped just in front of Quasi, her head tilted to the side in a rather curious expression. Then she carefully leaned around Sophia, who was still being held by Quasi, and reached out tentatively with one of her small hands for him. She hesitated for a moment, as if not sure whether or not to continue, then mustered as much courage as she was able and gently pressed her tiny hand against Quasi's cheek. Sophia remained as still as possible, focused solely on the little girl and the reaction of her friend. At first, he made a motion as if to pull away, but then he stilled himself. As the child's hand traced the contours of his face, Sophia watched as Quasi heaved a great sigh and then relaxed in the child's hold. Then the little girl did something else, pulling herself up on her tiptoes and, with her other hand, she reached up and embraced him as much as she was able.

Sophia felt tears well up and spill over as Quasi (with tears of his own spilling down his cheeks) accepted the embrace and leaned into the little girl's hands. The young redhead couldn't help but reach over herself and wrap her own arms, not just around Quasi, but around the little girl who had been able to look past the face and see the gentle giant that was her friend. The child then pulled away, took a fistful of Quasi's tunic, and proceeded to lead both of them through the rest of the crowd, which had once again erupted into cheers and joyous shouts. Quasi was again pounded on the back with approval and many came forward to touch his face in curiosity. All were gentle and kind. No longer did the people of Paris seem frighten by him.

A few stood back, casting wary glances upon him but Quasi did not seem to notice. He was too overwhelmed with those who now showed him acceptance. But Sophia noticed. She saw the disapproval in which they looked at him, but then, she had always known there would be those too consumed with their own fear to fully accept him. She knew this, yet it still hurt to know that some would never change. It took several more minutes, but finally, the small group was able to break free of the cheering crowd and make their way to Pascal's home. However, just as the group made to pass through the gate that lead into the square, a rather thin, elderly woman with snow white hair and wrapped in a threadbare shawl, broke free of the crowd and ran as fast as her legs could carry her towards them.

"Wait! Esmeralda! Wait!"

Third Person

Quasi's POV

He turned. A tiny, thin elderly woman was making her way towards them, her hair coming almost completely out of what had been a previously neat bun. When she was close, Esmeralda suddenly darted towards the woman and gave her a brief hug.

"Gwen! Are you well, my friend?" Esmeralda asked concerned, looking the woman up and down for any sign of injury.

"Of course, dear girl!" The elder replied, her tone brisk. She straightened herself and repositioned her shawl about her shoulders in the effort to look respectable. "But she," Gwen pointed a gnarled finger in his direction and it took Quasi a moment to realize it was Sophia she was pointing at. "Is not. You will need as many hands as you can, Esmeralda. That wound is severe. She will not last without proper and quick treatment."

Quasi felt his heart give a painful skip. Sophia was still very hurt and needed to be healed as quickly as possible. Infection had most likely already set in. He glanced down at the young woman in his arms, who was indeed still awake though appearing a bit pale. She kept her gaze focused on some spot on his tunic, as if trying to block all else out. Quasi felt she was doing this in order to keep herself calm.

"Your help is most welcome, Gwen." Said Esmeralda, worry of her own was beginning to show on her face. "Come then, we must hurry if we are to prevent further damage."

Without another word, both gypsies took off out of the gate, Pascal and Clare on their heels so as direct them properly to their home. Quasi followed just behind, trying not to move too fast yet also concerned with the amount of time they had. Not to be left behind, Lea Chevalier caught up and kept pace with him. Every now and then she would send her daughter a deeply worried look, but then that look would turn into a cross between fury and, what appeared to Quasi, the need to burst into tears. The woman's presence made him feel severely uncomfortable and frightened but he knew that he could not deny her the chance to be physically close to her daughter. Sophia was not at all well and her mother had the right to be beside her, despite the way she kept shooting him withering looks.

The way to Pascal's bakery and home, was not a far journey. They reached the front door much quicker than Quasi thought and by the time he and Lea had caught up, Pascal had the door ready for them.

"Quickly!" Clare ushered them inside and directed Lea to a small room to their right, then turned to Quasi. "Up the stairs, first door on the left. Esmeralda and Gwen are preparing the room."

Quasi gave the tall woman a quick nod and bounded up the stairs as fast as he was able without hurting Sophia. Oddly enough, she had been fairly calm and had remained quiet, not saying a word. She just kept her eyes focused on that same spot on his tunic. Now he felt her beginning to tremble. She was frightened.

"Quasi?" Her voice shook, and was far smaller than he would have liked.

"Yes Sophia?" He tried to keep his own voice even, but was not sure he succeeded. He passed the landing and began the second small set of steps.

"I'm afraid."

It was two words he had not heard since they were young children. He paused for a moment just short of the top of the stairs. He felt his heart skip several beats and his own fear threatened to overtake him. He inwardly shook himself. He needed to remain calm. Sophia needed reassurance, though he was not certain if there was any he could give her.

"All will be well," was what he found himself saying. He brought her closer to him and tightened his arms around her, as if to fill her with his strength. He placed his cheek against the top of her curly head, trying to relay as much comfort as possible. "All will be well."

Then the reality of her condition came back and Quasi leaped up the last few steps and carried her into the room in which Clare had directed. It was small, only a bed, a wardrobe, a small trunk, and a bedside table occupied the room. The bed was pushed against a bay window, white curtains drawn to prevent those outside seeing into the room. Gwen and Esmeralda bustled about with bowls of water, vials of liquids he did not recognize, and a pile of herbs lay across the top of the bedside table. Esmeralda was the first to notice him.

"Put her on the bed Quasi, hurry." The ebony-haired woman walked around the bed and pulled back the covers, before going over to the bedside table and resuming her work.

Quasi hurried to do as she asked, crossing the room quickly and laying the young redhead down on the soft surface. Once he had done so, the elder of the two women took hold of his upper arms and began to pull him away.

"Wait!" He begged, suddenly afraid to leave Sophia's side. "I wish to stay."

Esmeralda looked up from her work on the bedside table, a sad expression on her face.

"Quasi," She began gently, putting down the knife she was using to chop herbs. She crossed over to him and relieved Gwen, who went over to the table to restart what Esmeralda had left. Esmeralda placed her hands gently on his shoulders, her emerald eyes apologetic. "You cannot stay."

"But-" He began, but this time Gwen cut him off.

"I don't think the girl would want you to see her like this, boy." She said sharply, her beady eyes piercing him. "And we do not have the time to argue. Out." She pointed at the door. "Now."

A cold wave of fear washed over him. He did not want to leave. Not like this. What if something happened? What if he was not here when she needed him? What if-? What if she-? And he was not here to say good-bye? What if this was to be the last time he saw her? No! He could not leave! Not when she needed him the most!

"Quasi!" Esmeralda's voice had only been sharp with him once and oddly enough the last time was also when Sophia had been hurt. "There is nothing you can do for her at this point. What you can do is go downstairs and allow Gwen and I to heal her."

He looked from Esmeralda to Sophia, then back again. The indecision was eating away at him.

"Please, Quasi?" The ebony-haired woman asked, this time much softer. "I understand what you are feeling right now. Truly, I do. But the best thing you can do is let us try and help her."

"V-very well." He relented, his tone defeated and very near tears. In fact, tears were already streaming down his face.

He turned to leave but found that he could not do so, not without-

Before either woman could prevent him, Quasi turned about and knelt in front of the bed. Sophia's eyes had closed. When that had occurred he knew not. He leaned over and smoothed her thick, cooper curls away from her face and whispered in a low, shaky voice. "I will be here when you wake. I promise. I will not break my word again."

Then he rose, equally as shaky, and slowly drew out of the room, closing the door behind him. But not before casting one final backward glance at Sophia still form. For a moment, all time seemed to stop. Nothing existed but her. And yet, it was time, Quasi realized, that they must now fight against. It was a battle that Sophia had to fight. Alone. As the door clicked in place, Quasi found himself unable to move. His ears roared with sound, yet he knew there was none save for the movement from the room he had just left and the sign of life on the floor below him. Without warning, Quasi felt all the strength in his body leave him all at once and he sunk to the floor in utter exhaustion. As he lay there, sprawled across the floor, he wondered how it had all come to this. How, in such a short time, had all he ever cared about been torn away from him? Sophia did not deserve this. She should have never had to feel such pain.

She deserved a life of peace and comfort. Of love and kindness. And yet, all she had ever known when exposed to him was pain, worry, and strife. By knowing who and what Quasi was, by becoming his friend, by defending him, it had caused this. He did this to her. This was his fault. He exposed her to Frollo's wrath and she had paid the price for it. And all because he wanted a friend. The tears flowed faster. He truly was a monster. He had almost caused the person he had ever come to love, yes, love, to met a horrible fate.

She still may. He thought bitterly.

He hated himself.

He thought all this as he lay sprawled across the floor, tears streaming down his face. He had no strength left anymore. He was so tired. His eyes fluttered and then exhaustion claimed him, falling into a deep sleep on the very floor in which he collapsed upon.

Monster.

Third Person

Phoebus' POV

"And I can assure you, your previous position will be returned to you. That is, if you so wish it."

"Yes," Replied Phoebus formally, bowing his head respectively. It would be wonderful being back in armor again. "Thank you, sir."

He was standing on the steps of the Palace of Justice conversing with an official sent by the King himself. He had just finished turning Frollo into the higher authorities who had caught wind of the riot just hours ago and had come down to restore order. Of course, upon discovering the Minister of Justice himself had been behind the whole incident did not settle well with them. The royal official now had to appoint a new minister promptly so that a sense of order could be established without more mayhem ensuing. The last thing Paris needed was petty criminals moving up in the absence of a Minister of Justice.

However, Frollo not the only one being convicted. Several of the soldiers were also being incarcerated due to their immense support of the former minister. Among these soldiers was the man who had attacked Sophia on both occasions. Once at the festival and the other down in the catacombs when they had gone to warn the gypsy people of Frollo's plan. Phoebus was pleased to find that the two soldiers who had 'greeted' him at the gates the very first time he had returned to Paris were also being dealt with. While they would not be facing the same charges, they were however going to spend some time in the dungeons.

For now, the main concern was finding a new Minister of Justice.

"I do not suppose you would be interested in the position, Captain?" Asked the official, stroking his graying beard and giving him a pondering look.

Phoebus, who had turned to leave, looked back over his shoulder and shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "I'm sorry sir, but I don't believe the position is one I would hold up well. I'm sure there's someone more qualified then I am."

"I see," sighed the official, adjusting his spectacles. "I suppose we shall fill position eventuality. However, if there is someone you believe is adequate for the position, please, do inform me."

Phoebus nodded, "I shall, sir."

"Very well," said the official, peering down at the piece of parchment in his hands. "I do believe that is all. Oh! Yes, there is one more issue Captain."

"Sir?" asked Phoebus, puzzled, turning back once again.

"Yes, well," The official shifted nervously and glanced about him to see if there were any prying eyes. "There is the predicament of Claude Frollo's horse."

"His horse?" Now Phoebus was really puzzled. What did the horse have to do with him?

"Yes, you see, the beast won't let anyone near it." The official explained sheepishly, he appeared to Phoebus to be regretting ever bringing up the subject. "I was wondering if there was anyone you could think of who could handle the beast?"

Phoebus raised a hand to his chin and rubbed his stubble in deep thought. "Have the soldiers been trying to subdue it?"

The official looked at him as if the answer was obvious. "But of course Captain! The beast is huge! It's temper is out of control!"

"Frollo's horse has never liked soldiers." Phoebus explained carefully, not sure if being completely honest with this was a good thing. "It distrusts every one of them. It tolerates me, but only so much."

"I see," the man looked down at his parchment again. "Is there anyone you believe could take it? If not, I do not see anyone going near it. Unless something is done about the animal, I'm afraid I'll have to have it destroyed."

As much as Phoebus himself disliked the horse, he knew that with a proper owner the animal could be much calmer. He himself could not take it because he already had Achilles, who had never liked Frollo's horse to begin with and would absolutely despise him for the rest of his life if he took in another horse. Especially Frollo's. The now reestablished Captain continued to ponder the quarry until a brilliant, yet maddening idea came to mind. It was a long shot and he didn't not know if the person would completely agree or not, but Phoebus was sure he could convince them.

"Wait, sir. I think I might know someone who would be willing to take him in, but I need to speak with them first. How long before you think you can no longer accommodate the animal?"

"Two weeks maximum Captain," replied the official. "After that amount of time, I'm sorry to say something must be done about the beast."

"Thank you, sir." Phoebus dipped his head again. "I believe that is more than enough time."

"Good day, Captain. I expect you back at your post in one week's time."

"Yes, sir." Phoebus straightened himself to his full height and saluted the official sharply.

"Until next we met." And with a swish of his robes, the official disappeared through the double back doors.

Phoebus exhaled heavily, then bounded down the steps where Achilles was waiting patently, tethered to a post.

"Well Achilles," He began cheerfully. "What do you think of giving a certain special woman a horse?"

. . . .

"Hello?" Phoebus called as he opened the door to Pascal's home and stepped inside. "Esmeralda?"

The portly baker suddenly appeared through a door off his right. He looked tired and worn, despite being about the same age as Madame Chevalier. Pascal opened the door wider and gestured for Phoebus to enter. "Right through here, Captain. The two gypsies are upstairs still. They haven't let anyone in since the boy brought Sophia up."

"How long ago?" Asked Phoebus, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, as he shut the front door.

He followed the baker into the room which appeared to be a den of sorts. They were not alone. Clare, Pascal's wife, was seated in a rather comfortable but worn looking armchair by the fire, a half-finished knitted article of sorts in her lap. She looked up from her needlework and made to stand, but Phoebus extended a hand and waved her down.

"Oh, don't get up on my account Madame. I am quite fine."

She froze, as if not sure to take his word as truth or not. However, she nodded in response and sat back down, her needles resuming their work.

"This was about thirty or so minutes ago." answered the baker, taking a seat on a small stool.

Phoebus remained standing.

"I see," He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, exhaustion was finally catching up with him.

"Perhaps you should lie down dear," suggested Clare from her chair. She was watching him with troubled eyes.

"No, no." The Captain protested gently, raising his head and blinking away the exhaustion. "Thank you Madame, but no. I think its best if I remain conscious. At least, for the time being. How is Quasi?"

He cast his eyes about the small room, thinking perhaps he had not noticed the boy when he first entered. However, it only took one sweep for Phoebus to realize the boy was not with them. "Where is he, if I may ask?"

The balding baker opened his mouth to answer him but a much different voice cut him off.

"Do not speak of that creature in my presence."

He would not have noticed her if he had not have been looking. In the far left corner of the room, sitting on a small stool and looking more than a bit worse for ware, was Madame Lea Chevalier. He piercing brown eyes bore into Phoebus' hazel ones with such bitterness and resentment that he had to force himself to stay still.

"Ah, Madame." Phoebus nodded his head in her direction in an attempt to use chivalry as a way to break the invisible barrier between them, but it did not seem to have much affect. "I can understand that this is a difficult tim-"

"Don't talk to me as if you understand!" Lea screamed, jumping to her feet and waving her arms frantically. "That monster is the reason my daughter, my only daughter, is upstairs fighting for her life! He did this to her!"

Phoebus' hazel eyes harden instantly at her words and when he spoke his voice was equally matched. "Madame, calm yourself. I have no doubt that Sophia will make a full recovery."

"SILENCE!" The woman bellowed, no longer caring for those working upstairs. "And you! I cannot fathom how you factor into all this! You are her intended! Do something! Lock that creature away so he can't harm someone else's daughter! Defend her honor!"

Despite his understanding of why the woman was becoming hysterical, Phoebus had long since passed the patience for voices being raised at him. Especially when the woman's words contained slights against his friends.

"And I shall defend Sophia till my dying day! But what you fail to realize that I am not the one she loves! That monster," Here Phoebus spat the word as if it was poison. Quasi was no more a monster than Phoebus was cobbler. "Has done nothing but protect her and care for her throughout all of this! He has done nothing more to harm her than I have! I would not be surprise if I found him an emotional mess because of this!"

"That creature has no idea of love!" Lea countered, her voice full of scorn and hate. Then her face paled as she fully took in his words and her whole form began to shake.

"What are you saying?" She asked slowly, her voice was barely above a whisper and her eyes were full of panic. "No. How could that thing-? It is not possible. When? How?"

Phoebus feel his anger calm, yet the adrenaline still remained. His heart raced and his breathing had yet to even out. It was then that he noticed the pale faces or not only Madame Chevalier, but also of Pascal and Clare, who were now standing. All three of them were staring at him in a mixture of horror, shock, and disbelief. Though the horror was more on Lea's part than the baker or his wife. He ran a hand roughly through his hair before glancing about for a chair or stool, any place at all to sit. Noticing a spare stool in the corner nearest him, Phoebus dragged it over and sat down. He then advised the three to do the same. Pascal and Clare did so willingly, but Madame Chevalier took a bit more coaxing. Finally, she complied.

"What is this about, Captain?" Asked Pascal, not quite as bit as welcoming as he previously had been. He sounded much more cautious and gazed at Phoebus with a look of distrust. "What has . . the boy . . have to do with our Sophia?"

"There is much I do not know," Phoebus began carefully, eying each of them with caution. "Nor understand. However, what I do know, is that Sophia and Quasi are friends. And, they have been so for a very long time."

"That is a lie!" Lea protested loudly, jumping to her feet once again, her face red with anger. "My daughter has never met him! Nor could she!"

"LEA SIT DOWN!" Pascal roared, forgoing any sort of tact. His patience for the woman had finally run out.

Startled by Pascal's out of character behavior, Lea stumbled backwards and collapsed on her stool. If it was at all possible, she looked just a bit paler.

"Now Captain," said Clare, eying Lea carefully out of the corner of her eye. "Please, tell us what it is you do know."

Third Person

Esmeralda's POV

She sighed. She was exhausted. It had taken the better part of an hour to treat all the cuts and bruises. Of course, the worse injury of all had taken the longest. Infection had indeed set in, however, with the number of ointments and cleansing oils that Gwen was famous for, they estimated the infection would clear in about a week to a week and a half. She was not going to lie, it was going to be a long recovery for the young woman. She would not be allowed out of bed for roughly three or four weeks. And that is if all went well and ran it's natural course. If the infection persisted, it could be longer.

"I daresay you might as well find the boy." Gwen pipped up from the wash basin in the corner. "Can't imagine what he may be doing."

Esmeralda nodded in agreement. Quasi was probably the first person they should tell, not because her family did not deserve to know, but because they may prevent him from seeing Sophia all together. Her mother most certainly was a threat to him and in Esmeralda's opinion, a danger to anyone who got in her way. She was someone even Esmeralda did not wish to anger and she feared very few people. With, of course, the exception of Frollo. She sighed. She had not rested for such a long time, sleep indeed, sounded very welcoming.

"Most likely worrying about Sophia. I shall retrieve him."

The ebony-haired woman finished drying the knife she was holding and put it back in it's case. How Gwen managed to lug her medicinal case about she did not know. She always had it on her though it never showed. Esmeralda often joked that Gwen's shawl swallowed everything it touched and that all the older woman had to do was reach into it and pull whatever she needed out of it. After she was finished tidying her work station, she headed for the door. Opening the door, she was just about to step into the hallway when she noticed something lying across the doorway.

It was Quasimodo.

Third Person

Quasi's POV

He awoke to someone shaking his shoulder. He blinked. Colors swirled, shapes blurred, then all cleared. Esmeralda was kneeling over him, a deeply concerned expression upon her face.

"Quasi! Oh thank goodness!" She exclaimed, she leaned over and embraced him, though he was not sure why she felt the need to do so. "Are you well? Why are you laying on the floor?"

Before he could even have the chance of answering, the ebony-haired woman pressed the back of her hand to his cheeks and neck.

"No fever. And it does not appear that you have any contusions to the head."

"Esmeralda I am well." Quasi reassured her as he pushed himself upright, stumbling slightly as he did so. "I was quite tired. I am afraid all the excitement caught up with me."

He blushed as he remembered how weak and exhausted he felt before he collapsed. And how guilty he felt for Sophia's present condition. SOPHIA! Before Esmeralda could protest further about his own health, Quasi forwent any other thought except for the young redhead.

"Sophia! How is she? Has she woken? How are her wounds? She is not-?"

"Quasi calm yourself." Esmeralda interrupted firmly, her hands coming up to clamp down on his shoulders. She gave him a hard look before continuing. "Sophia is well. No, she has not woken. Her wounds are minor, save for the one at her side. That is where most of our concerns lie and will also be her most difficult challenge to overcome. Her life is no longer in danger, that is unless the infection becomes worse."

"Infection?" Quasi's voice wavered upon the word, his fears returning tenfold.

Esmeralda recognized the panic that lay behind his eyes and gave him a sharp shake. "Quasi, listen to me. I cannot let you see her if you cannot rein in your emotions. Sophia is still asleep but she will sense your panic and therefore it will cause her distress. Do you understand?"

He nodded slowly, trying to focus on Esmeralda's words. She was right. Sophia needed rest and peace. If he continued like this he would make her worse. The last thing he wanted to do cause her more pain. Esmeralda said that her life was no longer in any danger. She was well, or as well as she could be. Sophia was going to live. She would recover.

"How long?"

"About a month." Esmeralda replied carefully, still eying him as if the answer would send him further into panic. "If the infection clears. If it persists, the recovery will take longer. Gwen says that she's extremely healthy though. She even has hope that the infection will clear in less than a week."

Quasi couldn't stop the ghost of a smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "No matter the ailment, she always recovered far sooner than others believed."

Esmeralda broke into a full wide smile. "Then she will no doubt surprise us all."

"May I see her?" Quasi asked, his heart swelling with hope.

"Very well." The ebony-haired woman relented. "But you must remain calm Quasi. Sophia cannot heal if she is exposed to extreme stress."

She stepped back and allowed Quasi to enter the room. Paying no attention to the other woman inside, he made a beeline for Sophia's side. A stool was already sitting beside her and Quasi guessed that they had been prepared for him asking to see her. As he sat down, he heard the door close directly behind him and judging by the silence, he was the only one left in the room. Taking a deep breath, he focused his attention on the only thing that mattered. Sophia.

Her small form was wrapped tightly in many blankets, four at the very least, it seemed. Once again, her skin had lost it's healthy color, causing the dark freckles on her face to stand out. Thankfully however, her skin did not appear as pale as it could have been. Her breathing was normal, for her chest rose and fell in it's standard rhythmical pattern. Occasionally her eyes would shift beneath her lids, as if experiencing a dream or memory that he could not see. He wondered briefly if it was a bright, happy dream she was seeing or a dark, fearful one which she would rather not. His heart clenched at that. He did not want her to see anymore darkness. No more fear. She had seen enough.

Tentatively, Quasi raised a large hand and tucked several stray cooper curls behind her ear. As he did so, the pads of his fingers brushed along the contour of her ear. He stilled his hand almost instantly, slightly startled at feeling just how smooth and soft it was. He wondered if that was what his own had felt like when she had done the same to him. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth at the memory. Once her hair was tucked neatly away, Quasi folded his arms atop the covers and let his head rest upon them, keeping his head tilted towards her sleeping figure. No matter what, he would be here when she awoke. He promised.

And this time, he aimed to keep it.

Yes, I thought it would be sweet to reverse the ear touching thing for Quasi. I never thought about ears. I guess it's cute in my opinion. I don't know, maybe I have a thing for ears. Who knows. So, how did this chapter turn out? Well I hope. I rather like this one. Now, there are only two guesses on who gets Frollo's horse! I always wondered what happened to the poor beast. In my opinion he was never a bad horse, he just had a rotten owner. I'm sure in the right hands he would be a Black Beauty.

So there's that and then of course I rather enjoyed the scene with Phoebus and Lea. I really do like Lea, in the end I think she'll come around. But you will just have to wait and find out now won't you? Any concerns or complaints? I know I kept dragging out Sophia's injuries and I'm sorry. This time all is taken care of and she's officially on the mend. Speaking of officials, I thought it best to address the issue that was left out in the movie.

Just who the heck replaces Frollo?! No one knows! I also like the idea of Phoebus being offered the position but turning it down. I think it adds more to his character. So I'll work out a replacement. So Frollo's in jail living with the consequences of his actions along with several of his goons. I do have a further plan for Frollo, so stay tuned!

Also, just to be clear, Sophia does NOT forgive Frollo. Not yet. In time, but not now. It's still too fresh. Many of my reviewers were going on about her being a far better Christian than themselves but I think we got confused. She gave Frollo an item of religion because she does feel pity for him and even though she doesn't forgive him and is still angry with the fact he tried to kill her friends, she also doesn't want the cycle of hate and revenge to continue. So she's being the bigger person and laying her cards on the table and waving the white flag. It does make her a better person, but remember, she's not perfect. Nor is she trying to be a glorified Christian.

I think that's about it. Just know there is one more chapter and then, keep an eye out for something special after that.