10 years later…
The Seine was as still as ice…until a tiny wake came. A fragile leg stepped into the peaceful river. A stag lowered down to drink and there was another with him. A doe, whether a mate was she or not, slowly emerged from the trees. She was tall, slender and very light on her feet. The grand stag lifted his head as she came. She gave him a fond lick before going down to drink for herself. As she lapped, he stuck his head high…gazing upon the great stone marvel as the sun embraced her towers.
The glass of one glass chime, rattled lightly together as the wind softly blew through an open window.
It had been a while of peace and anticipation. Not of fear as it once was.
Ten years it was since the return of the young princess, the final born of King Louis. On this day, Paris was expecting the royal family to come, which was annual. At least once a year. The king would see to that his capital was doing lawfully well, on account of the many mishaps over the last few decades. His new hire as the Minister of Justice was coming along with him today.
Paris was a swirl of nerves, as one would say.
The day was going along fondly as someone had stepped out of a woodworker's door. She groped for her key and then the knob before locking it. The heavy key hanging out on her belt. She had a firm stick with her and she took it before tapping the road with it to find her way.
It was now 1494 and things had changed so much during the last ten years. Paris kept changing when new inventions kept coming in, left and right. The printing press was what the millions were gossiping about. Books. What good would they do her? Bah!
She was helping her husband to man his shop. He had turned into a practiced woodcarver. Known all through out. Of course, he was always the bell ringer of Notre Dame and still was to this day. But his ability to ring more then four had greatly lessened. He put much time into his carving, perhaps too much, seeing as his mind would continuously flow on to so many things at once.
The orphans, perhaps a great many of them had moved on to do their own things. All except the two girls, who were always best friends. The two who befriended the Rose long ago. Judeth and Lillian Rosalie were still attached to this city as well as to the bell ringer. They called him father, or friend. More so, they were family to him and her.
She, herself, had stayed with him ever since and around the third year after the struggle, they fully decided to wed. It wasn't all that a big a wedding ceremony. (a inn, of all ruddy places), but it was all the more worth it.
Her own father, if he was alive now or not, would think different of her, would he? Well, he would probably be far too drunk or senile to care at all.
For today, now that everyone was as giddy as spring lambs, she needed to go to him. He was probably walking the Seine, as he would do at every noon after a full morning of work. He did feel less anxious of her going around alone. The birth of Esmeralda's first child made it all the better, perhaps. She was happy, in a way, that he was able to experience the birth, since… she was barren. Barren because of that assault, but she was thankful to be alive right now….
It was during late October, on the 22nd… when the Court of Miracles grew as silent as could be. Everyone was fearful that she was a stillborn. It was near the end of the year…which was a very cold time. Quasimodo was a frightened soul that day. After his worrisome experience with children in general, a birth itself was unnerving to him more than anything.
Phoebus was there, gladly, who was resulted to a mere gate keeper since his retirement from a soldier. A veteran now, and he was needed. But the promise Esmeralda gave to the hunchback was harshly fought for by the gypsy. For the bell ringer was to hold the baby first…. And it was a blessed moment. Phoebus surely understood, for he was proud of Quasimodo's courage for the kingdom itself.
Esmeralda was weak and was in labor for several hours since before dawn. Clopin and many of the bohemian women did what was best for her, keeping her well warm and hydrated for as much as possible.
"Esmeralda!" wept the hunchback, who was so young and scared at this point.
"Quasi… it will…. Ack! It will be all right…"
"Please! Please, don't close your eyes!" he worried, seeing that she was too tired to keep them open.
Quasi kept her hand tightly in his, Phoebus was dabbing her forehead, gently as he kept whispering to her. By hearing his voice, Agatha could hear and feel the hunchback's panic.
"She's going to be fine, Quasi, I am sure of it…" Phoebus fearfully tried to calm.
"…phoebus… Agatha… I-I … I can't bear with this… She is so weak…"
"If she can kick the arse of a magistrate, then she can go through childbirth." the blind added.
She was snarky that day, it made her laugh. But the look on Quasimodo's face as it was described to her by word was more than they all bargained for. Quasimodo, who had his heart broken along with Adalyn's, was holding a beautiful tiny baby in his warm, thick, protective arms. There were tender tears in his eyes as he gazed down at her… This little girl. She remembered him holding back sobs.
"…she looks just like her mother…" the ex-soldier brought up, tenderly.
He did not know he was ever able to see this…. Either dead or miss it altogether and he still had a daughter to dote upon. Well, perhaps, this tiny one had two fathers now, considering how deeply Quasi was falling for her, clearly before his eyes.
"…she is…s-so beautiful…" Quasi softened, tenderly. But he slowly gave her to Esmeralda.
Though, she was exhausted, she was strong enough to hold her daughter in her arms.
"…she… she has her Papa's eyes…" weakly and warmly said Esmeralda.
Adalyn gave a sob as well, being reminded of the night when Mother was expecting. All to be told that Quasimodo was born that night…. It was very difficult for her to stay calm, as she kept wiping her eyes.
"She is gorgeous…"
"We shall name her…?" Esmeralda tiredly looked up at them all.
As soon as Phoebus got his chance with his newborn saw the pure devotion in Quasi's eyes. Smiling, he let him to hold her once more which surprised the hunchback greatly. He felt very compelled to barely touch her, she was so tiny. She had skin, as dark as Esmeralda's, with deep ebony curls atop her fragile head. Her cries were so soft and it tugged at all of their hearts, each time. For Quasi and Addy, it compelled them to coddle, completely.
"…she is so soft… so small…" Quasi's voice shook slightly. "…she's such a joy…"
"…say that again and you'll never let her go." Agatha joked in his ear and he smiled.
The others laughed…until something came over Esmeralda's mind.
"I think…she'll be… our Shimza. Our happiness…"
"Shimza." Phoebus smiled.
It was such a blessed yet stressful night when it was believed that Esmeralda was to breathe her last. She kept her promise to the crushed hunchback. The birth healed him, after all the love he had given to Rose. That little gypsy lass that was born on October 22nd, 1484 in the Court of Miracles was named Shimza Châteaupers… the daughter who unknowingly survived the strife of battle. She had grown into a strong young lady, so far and had gone with her mother more than once to other places to find some good earnings. This would be the day she would turn 10 years old. It was believed she would be still born or her mother would have gone with her. But the Lord was good. To all of them.
Agatha Demers or rather Frollo now, considering it was the last name Quasimodo was under, had a warm cloak over her shoulders, to fit this pretty yet brisk day. She hoped she would manage to find him. It was before someone called out to her, sounding deeply confused.
"…excuse… um… excuse me, madame…" came the voice of another female, young. It sounded like a teenager.
Strange, it wasn't Judy or Lilly. No. But being as polite and as patient as could be…Agatha turned her head to the voice.
"G'day, young lady." she said, her voice quite gruff from being tired.
The young woman who had addressed her seemed of nobility, quite plainly from the well managed light brown hair, bangs tied back and so well brushed and soft. She wore a dress, white and trailing slightly and she had a deep blue cape. She was fairly tall but slender. Her hair reached down long, to the middle of her back. She held her hands together, her fair, pale face twisted into an expression of unfair worry. Freckles lightly speckled high on her cheeks, her deep hazel eyes very gentle but they told of the trouble she was bearing. If Agatha was able to see her face, she would find a rather strange familiarity.
"How may I help you, my dear?"
"…I was… do forgive me, madame but… I have just come on business with, with my father and…" the poor teenager seemed to have trouble keeping her sentences together.
Agatha was still listening.
"I have seemed to have gotten lost in this fine city. I am…" the girl then struggled a little. "…I am… looking for… someone." her voice broke.
"…hey there, lassie… There's no need for that." the blind picked up on the sorrow instantly. "Ya know, it's all right. Well, I'm a blind woodworker assistant but, maybe I can be of use."
The girl had blinked, looking over this woman with perplexity and even slight fear, but she shook her head.
"U-um, well… do you know the bell… bell ringer?"
Agatha was quiet for a moment. Something intrigued her about this young lady, even her voice sounded too familiar.
"…the bell ringer? As a matter of fact, I do. He doesn't ring so much anymore, but yes, I know him. You know him?"
All the girl could make out was merely a choking sob.
Agatha thought right then that she said something incredibly stupid and right then as well, she knew this young lady.
"…lassie, I know you are new in Paris, but I feel like I've met you before."
"…um, no. No, you haven't, madame, I -"
"Come now, dear…. I'll have you know that I am married to the bell ringer."
There was silence.
"…ah. All right, come follow me, dear." she turned warm, turning towards the cathedral itself.
There was really no need to ask for the lass's name. She knew who this was and her heart was racing. Damn, if the guards found her here alone…and with her, no doubt there was going to be trouble. Oh Heaven's, it was Rose! She was here all alone. Even now, she had a habit of running away. Agatha shook her head. She could barely imagine how Quasimodo was going to react to this…. By the sound of the young noble's voice, she was hurting. Holding back a few panicking tears, she was leading the maiden to the cathedral, but she was not sure if he was there or walking the Seine at this time.
As she followed the blind woman, the princess's eyes watered seeing the glorious cathedral which hit her deeply more than she expected. She was not sure if she should enter it. She did not know what to expect.
Agatha noticed that the girl had stopped and so did she… She turned once more right when she stood on the first step.
"…what? You have something better to do?"
"…n-no, it's… it is just that I…"
Aurora's chest shook as she held her hands over it, knowing in some way that he was not there or the man this woman was married to was someone else entirely. Agatha seemed to sadden and slowly made her way to the girl.
"…look, I cannot tell you if he is here or not. But he does come up to the towers, once every few days. And I believe he is coming here tonight before he retires. Just go inside, explore… Go all the way up if you want to. He'll be around."
"…he doesn't… ring every day?"
"He used to. But his deformity made it hard as he got older. Well, he's 32 now… But his back is very stubborn."
"Deformed?" the young woman sounded even more hopeful now.
"…yes. His name is Quasimodo, graduate from the college of Torch in woodwork and carpentry, bell ringer and cleaner of the bells and cloisters of Notre Dame. A woodshop owner, foster-father to two and a very well known friend to this city…. He is a hunchback, fairly strong… ginger and with bright eyes, like the Seine."
The maiden was biting her lip hard with hope and she blinked back a tear.
"It is him…. It is him. I knew it! I knew it was him…. and… and you. I-I know you. Do I?"
Agatha just smiled.
"I know you too, my lady. He will be so happy…"
Sniffling, Aurora soon hugged the woman which took her completely by surprise.
"Oh!"
"…thank you." the girl whispered.
Agatha's smile lessened, remembering the small, frail lass in the bell ringer's care, eating some stale bread she had stolen for her. Agatha slowly hugged her back.
"…you're welcome, your Highness." she whispered back, trying to stay composed.
She could tell the scarred girl was smiling before she passed her as she went up the steps. Agatha heard the great portal door slowly open. She was hesitant, but she could hear her step inside the cathedral.
She had to get away from her lady in waiting and she knew this was her only chance. Her father would be sorely cross if she was to be found far from Sainte-Chapelle. The woman then had her eyes to the checkered floor as she thought of how much of a stir she must be causing right now. She was able to hear two men bothering the blind outside in the square.
"You, woman!"
"Hm?"
"We are in search of a young maiden of 16. She wears a blue cape about her."
Agatha rolled her face to them, looking completely aggravated before she waved her own hand in front of her own face with not a word.
"Ah, grand…" sighed the guard before they continued their way.
Typical of them to think her useless in these situations. She was using it to her advantage. She snickered as she was going her way to the Seine. Knowing Quasimodo, he would meet her there later. If he wanted to, of course.
Aurora Marie did her best to keep herself well calm before she looked to the brilliant beauty before her. She stood transfixed for a moment before she began to walk forward into the nave. The ceilings were so incredibly high that it hurt to look straight up. If her memory served her well, she knew this place… She knew the exterier, but not the interier. It all amazed her. Yet, it was the memory that hurt more than it should. There was much she did not understand, such as why or how she got to this place. It was all as scattered as an exploded egg on the stone.
I know this place…but now, it is more beautiful than I remember… she thought to herself, remembering the feeling of relief when she stepped inside here.
It was the same state of relief and calm she felt on that night when he came to her when she least expected it. She remembered his name… Quasimodo, the one the town knew so well as did she and yet she was so young when she met him. She knew his face still, his voice… his kind warm heart.
This was reason why she came this time with her very firm father. During her years growing up being taught the ways of etiquette and how the land was ruled, it all left her very worried most of the time, to the point of no sleep. The terrors of other countries becoming angry with France to the annoying trades with other kingdoms and relations. She was betrothed as well, but she was left in the dark currently as to who. She begged her father time and time again to join him on his annual visit to the capital, just so to have this moment to herself. Her father forbade her of leaving the protection of his guards and magistrates since the day she was stolen. She was only an infant though…. She grew confident in herself that she would be fine on her own for a little while.
It was then when she was seen by someone. A robed man was lighting the candles of some of the blown out candelabras down the way. He was slightly ill fed, but young enough, around 30 years old, with short, dark brown hair and kindly but thin face, with deep brown eyes. He soon took notice of the younger visiter.
"Good day to you, fair maiden." the man greeted, quite warmly.
She smiled at him, warmed at the welcome but nervous still.
"Good day, Father."
"I am Father Micheal, my dear. Surely, you know you are welcome here. Do come to me if you have any questions."
"…thank you, very much. As a matter of fact, I… well. I am looking for someone."
"Oh, really? Did you see them come in here?"
"Well… no. I was just exploring. But, do you know the bell ringer?"
"Ah, well… Yes, as a matter of fact. He had come in here about an hour ago."
That made her heart race.
"Really?"
"Yes, he had gone up to the bell tower to fetch something."
She looked around and spotted a stair arch to her far right, a spiral going up beside these stained-glass windows of the Saints.
"You look deeply troubled, my dear." he muttered, entering into her thoughts.
She looked back at him, her eyes as wide as a doe's before she spoke once more.
"Oh no, Father. I am fine. Thank you so much." she granted him a smile before she picked up her dress front as she began to go to the spiral stair.
The man watched her for a moment before he smiled a little before he continued on with his chore.
Aurora was on her way up, the stair seeming to go on forever. She passed a small window just to see how high she was and it amazed her. She remembered looking down to that one road once and it was not from here. She was along the wall, being carried. Becoming even more determined, she kept going up. Soon, she made it to an arch way. She peered out, only to see that she had come upon one tower high above her and the wind blew right through her. She saw another tower right across this bridge. Stone beasts were propped all around, seeming to menace her to leave right this instant. But she wasn't.
As tears of hope happened in her eyes, she began to walk forth. Lo, there! There was another door.
The walk up was so high, she wondered if it was all stable. Apparently it was. She stepped on the wood step, as she looked wide eyed at the high and low shafts. Birds flapped and dust fell. The hum of bells came when the wind blew through here. Old, but beautiful brass bells hung around her as she journeyed up. She knew this place entirely…it all slowly hitting her. The smell, the dust, the warmth. She nearly got herself a splinter when she grew too careless about climbing. This place was just as massive as she dreamed. But then, she heard a voice.
"…oh, Agatha. I knew she'd come to pester me…" chuckled a gentle, warm voice.
It was a man. She gasped when she heard it and hurried up a little more. There was the movement of a wooden stool and the scraping of a tool or something other. When she got up to the top, she stopped when saw an old area where a makeshift used to be. The wool cloths were still hung, but pottery was gathered in it. A few old spare statues were lined up. There were three strangely familiar ones; a swine, a feline and one elderly looking one…. She stared at them, a little unsure. She knew she saw them before. But she broke from it when she heard someone coming.
She turned to look.
There he stood. A hunchback, wearing a long sleeved tunic of gentle blue…and a vest of brown hide. He had a thick belt which held a few tools in it. His hair was ginger only softly lighter, his eyes were as soft as anything. He seemed thinner, yet healthy enough. His face was gentle, happy but a little melancholy. There was a wooden rosary around his neck, that kept falling out of his collar.
For him, he found that a fair young woman had happened upon the old loft. He thought it was Judy for a second before he officially looked upon this woman's face. His soft smile faded as though instantly.
She held a hand to her mouth. It was him! She thought she would never be able to see him again.
This woman before him, it was her eyes and her face that near frightened him with familiarity. He knew her. He knew her. He stared at her, seeming dumb-founded. Rose kept flashing through his memory as his very soft eyes began to water.
"F-forgive me, sir." she shuddered as she felt compelled to leave, seeing that he was ready to weep.
His heart began to break the moment she said that and he gasped, coming close.
"…my lady, wait… please."
She felt him take her hand. His grip was just the same as long ago, gentle, yet firm. His touch was very warm. She turned back to him. He was looking straight into her eyes all the while, too shocked to say anything more. This was the small one he rescued, ten years ago. It had to be her. It had to be.
"I… I remember you…" she spoke, trying to hold strong. "…at times, I… I thought it was a dream, but I knew it couldn't be. He promised I would see him again…. I wanted to come sooner, but…." she tearfully said as he reached to cup her cheek.
"…is it Rose? Our little Rose?" he uttered, deep joy surging through him, slowly.
Rose! That was the name he always called her!
"…y-yes… I…"
"… you were so young, child. I…I thought that… you may have forgotten." his voice trembled. She had come back to him.
"…how could I forget…? I … how could I forget … my father…?"
A deep sob went through him and he seemed to shrink before he tearfully smiled as he held her two hands. She went forth and embraced him. When she did that, his tears flowed and he hugged her tightly and warmly. She trembled and he trembled with happiness. Quasimodo was in shock and joy…. She came. She remembered… Oh how beautiful she had become… He knew it was her… her voice was just as tiny and gentle as it was when she was a small child. It warmed him that she was able to talk with ease… She never could years ago. Her eyes were always so lovely, hazel and bright. But they always held sadness. She was beautiful. He convinced himself that he was never able to keep his promise to her….
She wanted to see him again for all this decade. She was with him. She felt his arms around her. No one dared to hug her back at her true father's home. It was always so cold. Perhaps, a hug from Louis once in a long while, but nothing like this. Years ago, she felt so small compared to him as he would always look down at her. His love never changed. He never changed. She felt him weep, in joy. She was too.
"… I love you."
He wept even harder.
"… I found you! I thought I would never find you!" she praised.
"… I promised. I thought I had to break it…. I… I missed you so much…" he sobbed.
"…I missed you…"
"…you remember me… I always loved you, Rose…."
He soon pulled back gently, but he still held her hands in his.
"…my, you are so beautiful…" he sniffed lightly before he wiped his eyes with a stray hand.
"Quasimodo… please don't cry."
"I'm sorry… I am just so happy…. I felt that I lost you long ago."
She took her own towelette out for him and dabbed his eyes. She always hated it when he was upset, she remembered. It hurt to see him weep. But it was in joy. He felt compelled to embrace her again. He shut his eyes as peace came over him. She was here, she was here with him again… Despite all that he was blessed with, his heart was always sensitive since she had to go back. It always hurt knowing that there was no chance, but…by the grace of God. She was right here. He was able to hold her again. Two more tears trailed down his cheek.
She was happy, truly, once again, now that she found him when she only came to escape from her life for a few hours. Most of her life after her return was always isolated. All she had was her father and her lady in waiting, Antoinette. The gardens being her only get away. She always felt that something was missing entirely, remembering him and the gypsies…the dark forest. The men who kept her captive, she only remembered one face. Something she always tried to stay away from. Over time, her father kept telling her to stay in her place and to fret not about all these dreams.
"…It was never a dream…" she whispered in his ear. "…you were never a dream."
Separation makes the heart grow fonder. A father and daughter, if very true, they will never forget one another. It is impossible. Once he looked into the eyes of a princess, he fell in love. As all fairy tales go. I will you let you know now, children, this story is not over. You see, they live today. The bell ringer still rings as he holds his rose close to his heart. The dragon was slain and the sun shone again! Just keep listening and you will hear, beyond our eyes, the towers call… to bring her back home again.
The End
