The good news had not yet reached to the escaped and healing group, of both street performers, survivors and lost and found children. But at the least, their voyage was very quiet, and very slow… of both the carriage and the caravan moving at a steady pace. Just gentle enough for the two slumbering within the safety of the performance caravan.
Their only concern for the present was being able to set foot into Paris before night would fall. There was a possibility that Clopin, Esmeralda and the rest of their men would not be permitted into the city.
Fortunately for them though, the gypsies did know of a secret passage along the west side of the protective city wall that can lead them to the Court of Miracles. Hopefully, they could help the hunchback and the orphans there for a few days. There were forms of medicine that could be performed to help the hunchback's infections, if they should try and spread. Sashes and water alone were not enough to fight off the threatening disease. Most of the gypsies kept both carts well surrounded, in case anything else would happen.
But along with that worry, there going to be a time when they would have to stop for a spell for one other occupant of the found carriage being pulled behind the caravan.
Evrard.
At first his allegiance was purely unknown by most when they came into the northern woods in hiding. It may have been the fact that Evrard just did not trust beggars, alone strangers from the years of uncertainty and he was taking in children lost and alone for many years after his family was assaulted for breaking a certain law of some sort. The rest was entirely unclear and the poor Burrower definitely died along with his story. A lot was not spoken of.
It was better if it was left unsaid, but if Quasimodo was his younger brother, that meant that Evrard's very lost and confused sister and secondary caretaker of the Burrower orphans certainly had a future still.
Quasimodo could not die.
Though meanwhile, inside the moving caravan where it was warmer and even more quiet, Agatha was silently awake as her dearest friend slept on so deeply. She chose to lay beside him, to comfort him and keep him warm. Though she was warned not to because she could catch his fever if he was getting to that stage, but she didn't care. She would get ill in his stead if that should happen.
She loved him that much.
She did not really set a certain goal in her life anyhow. She found someone worth troubling over. That was enough for her.
She did not want to leave his side at all. Not even for a second. He would ultimately stop breathing for any reason…so she had to keep his vitals in check, constantly. She stayed close to him, close enough that she was able to feel his heartbeat. His wounded body rose and fell, very gently, as he breathed and she was able to feel it.
He was remaining strong.
Agatha sighed deeply, having her face aim up at the curved ceiling. She was laying back flatly and she was able to feel his warm breath still. The floor was hard, but he needed the softness much more. After a moment of silence and thought, she felt him shift slowly amidst those pillows. He sighed, but he moaned when his hurts screamed for a moment.
In relief, she sighed and shut her eyes. She waited for a few moments….
"… agatha … wh-wh-wha-what are you doing in here…?" slowly came his tired, hoarse voice.
"…I am in here for you, you fool." she replied, with a hint of warmth in her voice.
"F-for me…? You… you need not worry about me…" he humbly said, resting his head low again.
Agatha's smile faded slowly as he spoke, slowly. She drew in a calming breath to keep from weeping at the mere thought.
"I truly thought I was never going to hear your voice again…" she told him, not a whisper nor in anger.
He opened his eyes once more before they locked on her as she seemingly stared off at the ceiling. His eyes were too weary to see the tears hiding in the corners of hers. But he was shocked by her words.
Of course, they have spoken of their love before…. Their deep feelings for one another, but those words touched him just as greatly as when she told him that she loved him.
He fell silent, but before he had the chance, she spoke up again.
"…you know, even though I convinced myself that you knew what you were doing, I… never… ever felt so scared in all my life."
By that statement, knowing full well of how she was betrayed…by her father, no less and had lost her sight as a result, he softened as he tiredly looked at her. Deep within, he felt that love blossom even more for her. Both of them, they fell silent. But it was not a cold silence, not like how they were before. Although it hurt him greatly, he moved his arm closest to her and soothed his fingers through her ratted auborn hair.
She gave a rather odd moan, as if she was choking something back. She was weeping again. But when he so gently stroked her, she touched his hand and slowly turned her head to him. Those hours before were so painful that the cold air meant nothing to her. Oh, he was alive… He was alive!
No longer caring, she reached her own hand and felt his face; his cheek, the saddening growth where his eyebrow was…and then his tired eyes of what she guessed…were the colors of the Seine, like how she remembered it.
It warmed her heart that he wanted her to be close to him. She turned slowly and embraced him, her head tucked beneath his chin. She was able to hear his breathing and his rushing heart, which then slowed to a soothing beat the moment he closed his eyes again.
He fought so hard and was so strong. He lost so much. He lost little Rose. He lost a part of his family. But he still had it. She only wished she was strong enough to … still have hers. She shut her eyes, listening to him, not caring that the carriage was coming to a stop.
That one, Fidele… as predicted, he was following them, but he kept a very far distance away because of his distrust. But the love he had for the hunchback was leading him on as if he was strapped to the back of the carriage. It was strong.
He could not leave.
Clopin looked back as he led on the caravan and there was the beast. Along side him on the front was Esmeralda. She was able to catch onto his true colors when he looked back. He had a trace of deep worry on his face but soon caught on that he was being easily observed. He shifted uneasily.
Esmeralda smiled tiredly at her close brother before she leaned her head back against the seat, lost in memory of the golden archer who helped her and Paris reach happiness. Especially to Quasimodo who got his chance to stand in the sun. She had to accept it though and be prepared for anything. Esmeralda usually never wept at the worst of times, but after all that has happened, now was the perfect time. Even if Phoebus was to come back, she had to go to her promise to Quasimodo. He was the one she wished to hold her baby when it comes. He had to be strong and she knew he was. Oh, but the Captain, who had been gone for so long… Of what the law would blame of giving birth to a soldier's child. She was the lowest in society… but at least her family did not look upon her with shame, but many before had.
He was able see her struggle as well and the weary king of the truants placed a strong hand upon her shoulder.
The time of danger was over…. It was over.
She looked up at him, looking deep into his soft, dark brown eyes and she slowly smiled, at ease at his comfort.
"You need not worry anymore, mon ami." he whispered, his voice deep, calm and scratchy. But it held happiness. "… look."
The second he motioned his head ahead, she followed his guidance and her eyes glistened.
"Oh… it is Paris." she said, full of glee and hope. "Oh, it was never far. Never… but it seemed so far away before."
"Strange it is when you are focused on the adversary and not so much the place, huh?" he said, with a gentle smirk.
The next dilemma was getting through those gates. Also, there was something else they had to do before they were to try. Clopin's eyes seemed broken once more as he passively stopped the caravan, with the cart behind them following lead.
Esmeralda drew in a very uneven sigh before she ran her hand over her face, as she fought her tears away.
It was going to bring Quasimodo to pain once more. After all he had gone through, the heavy losses so fresh against his heart. Traveling with the man who gave them the chance to get this far, along with the enemy weak and subdued. The orphans had lost their protector, just as Quasimodo had lost… Rose. It all happened so suddenly as well.
Now that Quasimodo had finally got to sleep, when he was so reluctant.
Clopin cleared his throat before he grievously looked to his exhausted sister.
"Must we wake him?" she deeply questioned, seeming to be in pain.
Clopin groaned, his head hurting from exhaustion. Even he worried, when he saw the state the hunchback was in…facing Dracon alone. So dimwitted at the moment that he nearly stabbed his chest with that poisoned poniard. Those eyes… were always so bright like the sun were… as dark and cold as stone.
They had to wake him… for if they had done it without him, it would leave him in a worse way. Quasimodo and the orphans. They needed to say goodbye.
Adalyn held Judeth close with all her might to force away the bitter cold from the girl's hands. The ginger kept her head down as her loosened hair whipped around in the morning wind. Her mind traveled everywhere; Evrard, Quasimodo… the children. They were entirely scattered now. Quasimodo's words telling her to leave him and Judeth and Evrard's disappearance were all too vivid in her mind. Those words hurt her to no end, when she wanted to go and stay with them, but she had the princess. It was all too quick.
She couldn't help but cry.
Phoebus was having his own troubles, of course, feeling both females shaking. Yet, he followed his final orders before his relieving. He was so thankful to be able to serve one last time for his love and close brother, Quasimodo. He feared for the worst for the longest time. Rather, it seemed like forever. All that time he believed Quasimodo to be dead…. Just knowing that he was seen and interacted with, the comfort was indescribable.
But in time, as his weak horse continued on between the Captain and the other knight, Phoebus could see a plain, empty and muddled. He made Achilles to go faster.
As it seemed, in the middle of this one muddled plain…there were two horse-drawn carts; one, a caravan and the other, a recovered haycart.
Around these two carts, was a group of people. They looked so still like statues.
Adalyn lifted her weary head up, as did Judeth…and what they beheld made Adalyn to pale and petrify.
These people, the ones she recognized…they stood about a mound in the ground…. The leader of these people sat, knelt down on his feet, trying comfort the gypsy woman who she grew to know, Esmeralda…who was draping something over that mound.
Esmeralda slowly looked behind at the caravan the moment she heard the door slowly open. There, as hoped, was Quasimodo…who was silently sitting on the steps before the door… wearing a long sleeved fleece. His left arm was bandaged and he held it close to him. Esmeralda's cloak hung over his shoulders. As he saw her look over to him, his face twisted with tears very fresh in his eyes. He looked down as the wind blew through him. He felt Agatha take hold of his shoulders….
She rested her head over his shoulder, embracing him from behind… She massaged his hurt shoulder gently.
"…it's all right, Quasi…" she choked, as did he.
"…my friends… look." spoke up Clopin as he slowly stood up.
The gyspies all stood up, respectfully when they saw the armor…the white steeds and those they were carrying with them. Two lasses. A ginger and a brunette, small.
Esmeralda went to Quasimodo's side, gently holding his arms. His eyes widened when he looked to see who was approaching.
"A-a…Adalyn!" his voice broke once more, flooded with so many emotions at once.
Dread, grief and joy…. But dread worsened. Oh… oh Adalyn had high hopes. She prayed that her brother was alive. But alas…. But then… there was the sweetest, most fondest thing…. She was… his sister. His true sister of who he had thought he had never had. He did not want this. In his heart, she deeply wished that she didn't come. Not like this….
Seeing Quasimodo fight so hard to stand up, Esmeralda soothed him to stay put.
"…oh Quasimodo… Ssh… ssh… we will… we will bring it to her gently." she promised him.
"It is just that-" he struggled, deeply. "…I… oh, Esmeralda… her heart… will break…"
It was something he did not want.
"… all of our hearts have broken. But during these times, so much love blossoms."
He looked up at her…understanding. He was so glad she was all right though… So happy that… they were family. Real family, where he was once destined. His sister.
These things just...cannot be rushed...
