Love blossoms… Oh, it had always blossomed.
The same as the night when he found Rose. The same when Agatha was violated. The same when he began to know Evrard, when he never knew of the truth the man held. Whom was never cruel or mean, but was protective… angry and sad.
When she had feared and prayed, there was the knight she deeply loved and honored. He was upon his horse, holding the two traumatized ones close as he was being led by two others. His armor, no longer as golden as the new day sun. Whom once was proud, was truly humble and saddened. But there he was! As she had prayed for sure deliverance, that prayer had been answered.
Esmeralda was holding incredibly strong and looked back to Quasimodo and Agatha, with deep joy and bravery bright in her eyes. She saw that he looked up at her once more as he held Agatha's hand, which was then draped over his shoulder. Esmeralda stroked Quasi's cheek warmly, full of encouragement.
The men were nearing. Quasimodo stayed on that step gravely looking on as the knights were coming so close now. It was Phoebus, whom he saw, holding and helping Adalyn…and it was horrific to see the man nearly fall off his horse out of exhaustion. But he could not. Not until he set the girls safely down.
Adalyn, as exhausted as she was, was trying to keep her knees from buckling at the sight. Judeth kept holding on to her, seeing just how shocked the gypsy group was. There was her protector, Quasimodo.
He looked so different, that it scared her. She saw Lillian! She saw the blind woman with him!
In great desperation, the poor brunette broke away from her, not in rights. Quasimodo's eyes quickly moistened the moment he saw her run to him. He was barely able to smile, but he was so happy that she was all right after going through all that. Nearly getting killed….
Lillian and Judeth, both crying over each other were both under the huncback's still rather strong hold. He was in pain, more so from deep within. These two were safe. It helped calm him slight. They felt him tremble, silent sobs shaking his frame. They were safe, they weren't spoiled….
Most of all, he looked and saw… there was Adalyn.
What she was seeing, she refused anyone who tried to hold her back. She was running quick away from Phoebus.
"Qu-Quasi…." her voice cracked. "Ev…"
But she looked and Evrard wasn't anywhere to be seen. When she came near, all that greeted her were the pained, yet compassionate looks from the other men. Esmeralda was who spoke to her first.
"Esmeralda…. Is… Evrard here? Quasi…?" Adalyn's felt her voice shattering, being able to tell that someone had been killed.
Esmeralda only draped a wool over her shoulders. The look in her eyes made Addy's stomach drop. Sweetly, though, Esmeralda looked to Quasimodo, who stood slowly, holding his bandaged arm very close to his chest. Adalyn turned to see his face so pinched with sorrow, it passed on to her. Knowing him, he was never one to lie and to see him in such a way….
When he came to her, her knees fell weak beneath her. He went down with her, taking her hand…just as speechless.
There was no one else perfect enough to tell her…and yet, she seemed to realize, sighting the newly dug mound. The reason why he was no where in sight. But she kept looking into Quasimodo's eyes and there she saw it. From those familiar eyes, she knew… Evrard was gone.
Just as she feared. She bit her lip sharply as she fought her heavy tears back. She bowed low, resting her head against his chest.
"…a-adalyn, I… I…." he wept along with her.
"…he never would let me stay and help him… He always told me to run…" she trembled. "Both times…. Our mother and… and …"
"He wanted you safe…. H-he…he wanted you safe…" the hunchback cried as he spoke. "…so… so did I." he grew fond, knowing the truth.
The exhausted group all gave them enough space, including themselves out for their sakes, for them bid farewell, rightfully. Clopin leaned against the caravan, chipping the poisoned poniard's handle, carving a pattern into it. Agatha, among them, keeping their voices in earshot. She did not know the man, deeply, and Quasimodo knew him the same, unknowing of all this information. Nonetheless, he found a brother when all along he did not realize. It was all different for him. Her thoughts were broken when Adalyn gave a deep wail.
"You promised you would never do it again!" cried the ginger woman, towards that mound. "…damn you!"
That insult was shouted out of pain, rather than anger. Amidst her despair, the knighted men had come to the group, Phoebus very well first. Their approach was quite slow as a few of the gypsy men stood and then stepped aside.
Esmeralda slowly looked up at the golden archer…who was not as golden as he once was. When he saw the crushed gypsy woman, his deep eyes watered. Of all that had come to pass, he had convinced himself that he was never going to be able to see into those eyes again. Also, the state his dearest friend was in; Quasimodo. Never had he witnessed someone so spirited to be damned in this way, curled over and shaken like a beaten mutt. Deep rage and grief flooded the recently released soldier as he knelt down to the three grieving ones.
Esmeralda immediately gave a sob, expressing her relief. For she believed that he was gone, just as he believed the same for her. He embraced her, a deep sob trapped in his chest.
"…esmeralda…"
"Phoebus!" the woman had wept, caressing him.
Quasimodo then found the strength to open his eyes at once when he recognized the soldier's voice. He felt the man's gentle, yet firm hand on his shoulder, and then a stroke upon his head. He was in midst of having Adalyn in his comfort, whose wailing had ceased to shocked silence.
"…hey." he whispered to the worn hunchback as well as to the blind woman next to him, who half smiled a short-lived smile.
"…phoebus…" shook Quasi's once humble voice. It sounded so strained and low.
"Hey, it's all right now, Quasi. Hang in there."
Adalyn gazed up at the soldier, just as Quasimodo did. Both of them in tears. Phoebus had to admit to himself that he was proud and amazed at the fact that all this while, Quasimodo, Esmeralda and the entire escaped band of gypies had been afar yet so close to the city. He was able to tell that Quasimodo had once again fought hard…to the point of devastating weakness.
No one was in fine shape to get to Paris at this rate, with injuries from within as well as outside.
It was then when the convict had moaned so loud, it sounded like scraping along stone, when Phoebus chose to give the brute his just medicine. He was suffering from poisoning, plainly, seeing all the blood gone from his face. Adnot observed his charge's actions, not finding whether it was good to let him to or not. His anger was justly the same as Phoebus's.
When Dracon felt the jerk on his collar, he coughed a bit before laughing slight before another cough hit him. Phoebus's face was a thunderstorm.
"You bastardly dog… Consider yourself lucky…"
"…lucky to be eaten alive by this poniard. Very creative…"
"You have some nerve, my friend. You have a few good guesses as to where you are going."
"…hell, most likely." Dracon then coughed.
Clopin was very crossed, having to bear what his people and his allies had to go through for this one bloody man, who had no spirit anymore. No light in those eyes at all.
Phoebus felt at most guilty that the ones closest to him were being tortured by this man and even worse, he was the abuser and keeper of the lost heir. That poor young lamb was probably permanently scarred by such influence in her life. It was by grace that she fell into the arms of someone deeply trustworthy enough to help her during that time when she escaped. She could have fell to worse things and even death.
But that time was done.
They now had the criminal in custody, now to be held for treason against the crown in Paris, to await the King's own verdict.
Having them found helped him relish the most calm feeling God had to offer. Through out all that time he had thought he had lost them, Esmeralda and Quasimodo were both well and alive. Their hearts were what needed healing most of all. For the young woman who now sat very solemnly in the back of the carriage, away from the caravan. She fiddled with something in her hands as the many were readying to leave and continue on to the city, where she and Evrard were always denied of entering. As so much as she was grieving, she felt the heat of anger also of why Evrard let himself to die like that so easily. She thought he was able to handle anything.
Perhaps she was being entirely selfish with that thought.
But she was now alone. He was always there for her… It just left her dead still in the shock of it all. She did not know what to do…. The orphans needed help….
It was then when someone had taken her hand, making her slowly look up. She saw a pair of soft aquamarine eyes staring back into hers. Her own aquamarine eyes moistened even more, her face twisting before she bowed her head low.
Quasimodo felt himself tremble as he fought hard to not weep. He knew something dear and he wanted her to know. She was not alone. What he had learned with Rose, of how much she means to him. To know that and be loved by someone as family. It was the most cherishing feeling. It was worth living for…if he learned anything at all. He stroked her hand, softly.
"…a-adalyn."
"…oh, quasimodo. I-I know you never liked him, but…"
"…I … I-I n-never claimed that I ever… despised him. I couldn't… could never…"
Adalyn sobbed.
"…dear sister, please!" he then choked, not wanting her to despair.
Adalyn looked very shocked.
"…sister? No, I…"
"…please… please… listen to me. It is something, it is so important." The hunchback begged of her, his trembling hands holding both of hers.
"…quasimodo?" she looked up at him, tears sliding down her cheeks as she did so.
"Evrard… he… he gave his all to keep… both of us safe. At first, I… I was so confused about him and his ways since that night."
"…I was always confused too…"
"…but… he told me something before he departed us…" Quasi softly spoke.
She remained still. Meanwhile, it was Agatha who was keeping a sharp ear on them. He was going to reveal the truth to her….
"…Adalyn… y-your mother, she was expecting, wasn't she?"
The poor ginger nodded, finding even more familiarity in those eyes of his, of what she had believed since that same night.
"…adalyn… you… y-you still have a brother." he struggled to fight back a sob.
"…but, no… the babe died with her…" she exclaimed, confused and in denial from her grief.
"…addy…"
His voice was so soft and so calm all of sudden. It struck her still, slowly coming to a realization.
She was desperate to find her way back home and that he brother was gone after he had told her to flee away from home. The damage was fresh, but the soldiers had gone.
What the small girl had found was something beyond gruesome.
There, against this one low tree deep in the brush, someone was rested against it in a posture which told her one thing.
Adalyn gasped, running towards it!
"Mummy!" she cried and grabbed the figure's shoulder.
She saw two deep torquoise eyes staring off at her, seeming as soulless as a wood doll. The girl froze, especially when saw the blood and so much of it, puddled in the grass. It came from under her skirt. Adalyn screamed out in terror before she felt someone behind her.
"Addy…" came Evrard's pained voice.
"…Mum! What happened to Mum!?"
"Addy, please…."
"Why is she…? No!" the terrified girl trembled.
"She was ill, I tried! I swear to the Lord, I tried!" he wept, kneeling down to her.
"Why didn't help her!?"
"Addy… she-"
"I was going to be a big sister…. Mum said."
"…yes." he swallowed hard. "…you were. And I tried, Adalyn, I tried… But she was too ill."
Out of what the hunchback was saying to her, it was claiming Evrard to be a liar. Why would Evrard lie to her all these years?
"…what did he tell you?" her voice shook, her eyes looking deeply into his.
Quasimodo shuddered a little to compose himself.
"…he… he did not say much." he choked as he kept stroking her hand. "…but his last words were so certain. How much I reminded him of her and.. a-and… that… I was… her last words…"
"What…?" she seemed to whisper.
He looked up at her, his face very tense from holding back more tears. If he didn't know any better, he had a true family nearby the whole while. He had dearly hoped she would accept it. She did not have to though, but…she had to know. As he was looking down, he soon felt her hand upon his left cheek and it seemed to stroke downward. He then felt her run her fingers through his hair. He looked deep into her eyes as she was studying him closely. Her face was agape in bewilderment. Why would Evrard not tell her that the babe had survived? She knew the eyes she was looking at…. Desideria's.
"Quasimodo… can you really be…? No…"
"…adalyn… I… I w-would never… ever lie to you."
"… I-I know you wouldn't. I-I just… oh!"
She then broke into a very tearful smile, biting her lip before softly went close to hug him. He, in turn, made a silent gasp, He spared his life when he was born worthless. He allowed his poor sister to lay against his chest as he warmly wrapped an arm around her as she wept.
"He gave his life for us…" Quasi sadly said to her. "Oh…Adalyn, please…he is still here with you." his voice cracked along with hers. "He always will be…."
The pain of Ev leaving her so abruptly, still left such a nasty scar, but…right now…even now… just as Evrard promised, she was not alone.
Quasimodo opened his wet eyes, to see Agatha near as the others were all ready to continue the journey. Adalyn shut her eyes as Quasi weakly smiled at Agatha, who reached to his hand. She heard it all…and silence was needed. She was to help them in any way she could, for these two reunited siblings. By blood.
"… my brother…" Adalyn sobbed, love was pure in her voice.
She knew Quasimodo was familiar for a reason…. Of course, the head of red should have been a dead give away. They still had each other, at such a time. The Dubois lost two, but they were still a family.
Fidele came close and nuzzled his shoulder. Adnot and his two men (and the third, who was released on this day) helped the gypsies to fully prepare to go on. Esmeralda came to the three, whispering to them… It was hard to have them break, but there was even more hope.
"…my dearests…" she whispered, softly stroking Quasimodo's back. "… Our Lady awaits us." she smiled quite warmly.
The day was fresh and warming up softly. The color of blossoms seemed to cover over the hills as gold rose high. Pure blue and the soft whiteness of the tender clouds slowly came over the ancient, worn city of Paris. Djali and Gilles looked out of the caravan, as the horses were gathered close. The orphans, Bonny, William, and the two girls Judeth and Lillian helped the best they could. Phoebus joined his friends, in hopes to help them to find their legs soon enough. Quasimodo broke his gaze from the distant towers that were calling his name so loudly. Agatha tensely smiled.
"…you got quite a friend here, Quasi." Phoebus smiled, so relieved to have the bell ringer safe. Agatha shook her head.
"…oh, shut up, you…" she groaned.
Quasi softly smiled. It was weak but genuine. He tightly held her hand.
"…one of the best in the world…" he whispered, passion then taking over his eyes.
Even she could not resist such an action, but she was still being stubborn. To fall into his arms right now would delay things.
"…you both are bad." she roughened.
But… she had gave in and slowly kissed him. His was gentle and he hugged her…before they were both helped.
"We're all safe…." Clopin delivered. "It is over, and we are at the end of road."
Quasimodo and Adalyn, along with Agatha, stood slowly.
"…oh Quasi…" Esmeralda nurtured, so amazed of the courage he showed before.
"Esmeralda…" he broke down and caught her in an arm, bringing her into a hug.
"…my brother…" she cried, tenderly caressing his hair and shoulder. "…adalyn. Come home with us…"
"…I-I… I will try." the poor ginger nodded, still quite shaken. She was still crying. "I think I can. Evrard would…" she trailed off as he voice cracked. "…want me to."
"…I promise… it will be all right… We are together now…"
Adalyn held tightly to the hunchback's arm. Agatha had his other side, to help him to walk. But it was then when Adalyn had taken something off a strand of her hair before she bestowed in to churned dirt of the grave…. As in to say farewell…
"…I love you, Ev…" she choked. "…you told me to keep going. So I will…"
Phoebus, alongside Adnot and the two scouts, led on the group home as promised by the Magistrate, who was seeing the heir to her roots at this very moment. There were a number of paths that led into Paris on each side, according to the gates, eastern and western. Then there was the southern gate, which was perfectly straight ahead of them.
Along these paths, many were traveling inwardly into the city at a very slow pace, obviously just as exhausted as they were. A grand many had fled Paris and many were still on the journey. Herds of donkeys, cattles and sheep followed their shepherds, shop owners and inn keepers were led on as well by the trusted soldiers of who once served under Claude Frollo, by the King himself. It was to be a while until Paris, herself, was to find her feet.
