Madellaine sat at the very far end of the bell tower loft, back up against the damp wood of the wall, body aching, cheeks burning with the flush of fever. She would have cried for help, but there was no strength in his voice, just a whisper. Her breath quivered in short, quick gasps every time she inhaled, her lungs having no choice but to painfully and rigidly take in the chilled air around her. She couldn't seem to stop shaking either. Sometimes it was rough, other times she could manage, but every time she'd get close to sleep, a new spell of violent shaking would force her awake. "I'll get better. I'll get better," she repeated to herself, feebly rubbing away at her arms in a sickly attempt to cease the unsettling chill that continued to run down her spine and made her skin crawl.
Madellaine tried her hardest to fight back the sudden wave of nausea as it clawed at her throat, and she tried to force down the bile but it was too late. Bolting from the deserted pew, she did not wait for Quasi to return from back downstairs as she fled back to her quarters, barricading the door behind her with a chair, barely making it to the basin. Her stomach kept on contracting violently and forcing everything up and out. Her face was white, dripping bile, sweat and tears. She lurched forward and sank to her knees as she dry-heaved and retched until only clear liquid was coming up, and then nothing at all. Her throat felt sore from the stomach acid that was layering it and her mouth tasted of vomit. Wiping her mouth with a handkerchief, she poured herself a chalice of water and tried to wash the disgusting taste from her mouth.
"No," she whispered, surveying her face in a small white mirror that was hung above the basin where she washed up in the mornings. Her knuckles gripped the edge and were white with the effort to steady herself. Not this, God. No. Anything but this. I—I can't… Oh, yes. It is true. You are pregnant with Jehan's bastard child, and nothing will change. He is a part of you now, whether you like it or not. The darkness of her thoughts began to seep into her mind like a festering, rotting poison, until that was all she could focus on, never mind that she'd left Darius wondering where she had disappeared. "I have to take care of this now," she whispered, her voice hoarse.
She stifled a sob with the scuffed palm of her hand and sunk to the floor. Her face was sallow, her eyes lifeless and helpless at her situation. The circles under her eyes were prominent from lack of sleep, she'd agonized over her predicament and what to do about it. She saw only one way to rectify her problem, and she hated it. There was no other way. So it was. Madellaine cursed Jehan for the bastard he was, spewing vile thoughts from her lips in a whisper; grateful Darius wasn't nearby to hear her black thoughts of wickedness as she wished upon him a terrible, violent death. She didn't try to stop her thoughts, she let them come to her, providing what little relief they could as she condemned her master to a life in hell where he belonged. She'd barricaded herself in the nuns' quarters, barring the door with the chairs. She hated the secrecy and deception, but she knew she would be undiscovered here. It was the last place anyone would look for her.
No matter how much she wanted a baby one day, perhaps with Quasi one day if they were fortunate enough ever to marry, but she would not—she would not—carry a bastard child of Jehan Frollo's that had been a product of rape and molestation. Madellaine dug in her bag, uncorking the vial of her stores of penny royal she'd stolen from Jehan's own private stores back home when she'd been packing, just in case she ever needed it in the event that something like this happened. She did not want to do this, to take an innocent life like this was a sin, one which she would assuredly burn in Hell for when her time came, but she had no choice. Making a face and scrunching her nose, she downed a little less than half the contents. She slumped to the floor, her back resting against the cold stone wall for support. All that was left to do was wait for the medicine to take effect. Surrounding by four stone walls, there was nothing else to do but stare at them. To look at the stones weathered by age, chipped off slightly or gouged out from other parishioners that had claimed refuge here once prior to her arrival, slowly going mad, anything to pass the time, theorizing absurd meanings from the wall's blank stare.
Madellaine didn't know how she had done it, but she had managed to sneak away from Quasi while he was preoccupied in talking to Darius about something—what it was, she didn't know, nor did she care. Not now. She'd fled, grateful she had speed on her side, but she guessed it wouldn't be long before both of them noticed she was missing and would start searching for her in a panic. She had to take care of this now. Uncorking the vial, she drank half the vial of the disgustingly bitter herb mixture laced with penny royal with one swig, downing the contents. She didn't have to wait long. Almost immediately, intense cramps of a horrendous magnitude overcame her abdomen. Clutching her side, she couldn't bear the pain as the fire tore through her insides; she wasn't able to catch herself as she fell, writhing in pain on the floor in her quarters. The pain wasn't sharp like a needlepoint or a knife; it burned around her innards better than boiling water. Everything felt scolded and, move or not, she was in more pain than she could have ever imagined was possible. If this was her penance to pay for doing this to him, then so be it. She would die here. She would not inflict suffering and torment upon the bell ringer by allowing Jehan to get to him. She wouldn't allow him to die all because of her. If she died, then it was for the best. He wouldn't get hurt.
She bit her tongue hard enough that she drew blood to prevent herself from crying out, but it wasn't enough. Madellaine screamed and gasped as she felt blood rush and her uterus clamped and contracted, expelling what would have been the bastard child of Jehan, the product of his attack on her in the marketplace. She wept, tears streaming down her face as she screamed tears of pain and rage. She wept for herself, at the pain of killing a child who would never be anything more than a distant, unpleasant memory and the immense pain her body was undergoing.
Her gut-wrenching screams had brought Alice rushing, horrified to find her door locked. Son of a bitch, she swore inside her head. Darius and Quasi had come to her in a panic and alerted her and Jeanne to the fact she was missing, but she didn't think she'd go here. Wildly glancing around for something to use, she managed to jam the handle of iron skillet in the door handle until the lock broke. She flung the door open, her face flushed and white with shock at the scene before her.
"Oh, God," muttered Alice, stooping low to cradle Madellaine's head in her hands. "Oh, God!" she moaned, distressed at the state of the poor girl writhing in pain on the floor.
She was lucky she hadn't killed herself with what she'd done. "I'm sorry," she cried, barely seeing Alice through her haze of pain and her hallucination. "I didn't know any other way! I'm sorry."
"Child, what have you done? What did he do to you?" she asked, tears welling in her eyes. She knew that fucker in the marketplace the other day had done this to her. "He did this…"
"I'm sorry," she whispered through her tears. "I couldn't."
"Jesus—Jesus Christ!"
She closed her eyes. Forgive me, God.
"I'm so sorry," Madellaine gasped, tears still rolling down her cheeks. She was beside herself with grief, screaming and crying. The cramps were too much for her to handle. The young woman cried and begged for release from this pain, but she knew it was her punishment, the pain she must endure for killing the baby with the bitter potent mixture she'd stolen from Jehan's stores. If she died, no one else would get hurt because of her. Jehan had taken everything from her.
The day in the marketplace he'd attacked her and violated her, he had taken everything from her. Jehan took every ounce of dignity and self-worth she had ever possessed. He'd exerted absolute power over her and she had been helpless to stop him. If anything, it had only intensified his unforgivable behavior.
Jehan had finished and left her to die in the streets, her body aching and screaming for relief from this pain. He had broken her spirit and gotten her pregnant with his bastard child, and she would have none of it. As much as she wanted a baby one day, she would not carry one to term that had been a product of Jehan's lusts.
In the midst of her personal Hell she was experiencing for killing the baby she began to hallucinate. A blinding white light glared into her vision and the image of a laughing child floated across her vision. The child was a girl, with gray eyes like her own and beautiful auburn curls. Quasi's face filled her vision and was looking at her with such warmth and love in his eyes that she knew then that she genuinely loved him. With true love, she felt like he was the reason her life was beautiful now. What she had always longed for. It was when she was lost in those eyes of his, those thoughts of adoration and affection for him and Madellaine thought of them every moment.
Loving him was the best feeling because when she felt at her lowest and she talks to him, all he says to her in this moment is "It will be alright; I'm right beside you. You're safe." She knows that right now, he is. He's with her, guiding her through the worst of her pain, he is her beacon of hope, he is the reason she has to not let go, to continue to try to fight this. His loving expression turned into one of disgust and hatred as the child in her vision began to distort, the beautiful image of the baby girl twisting and shrieking like a banshee, began to transform her shape like that of a shape shifter into a hideously malformed wretch, clawing and scratching and itself and at her in utter malice. The baby melted into a stain on the floor, a large, slimy slug the color of blood. This child, who, in its early stages of life, would never be more than a distant memory, a constant reminder of Jehan's raping her, trickled out of her body and onto the thick wool blanket she'd laid out on the floor to protect the floor from the filth.
"I'm so sorry," she cried out, still hallucinating, tears streaming down her face. She screamed, unable to take the feelings of heartbreak and rage, wishing it would just end. If she were to die here, then so be it. She didn't want him to suffer because of her.
"Jesus Christ! By the saints, what do I do?" agonized Alice under her breath. She wasn't strong enough to carry the girl to her quarters on her own. Glancing around at the mess on the floor, she would need to clean up the blood, but first, she had to get the girl to safety.
The girl needed Sophia's care immediately, or else she'd die…
She saw no other way. I'm sorry, my friend, but I have no choice. I'm so sorry. She would have to bring him into this. She needed Sophia.
"Damn it," she whispered-hissed angrily, clenching her teeth and balling her hands into fists. "DARIUS!" she bellowed, her powerful voice echoing through the hallways. It didn't take their priest long to arrive, winded and panicked. His face blanched and he looked like he was going to be sick at the sight before him.
"Oh, God. What happened?" he demanded urgently, kneeling down and holding Madellaine gently as she passed out from the pain, still clutching her stomach. He cradled her gently, smoothing her hair, kissing her forehead. "What…?" He hated seeing her like this.
"He did this to her," Alice whispered, her eyes flashing angrily. "Whoever attacked her in the streets, he raped her and got her pregnant. She aborted it. You've got to stop him, Darius. The bastard has to be killed. He can't just be allowed to get away with this."
Jesus Christ… Darius felt his heart sink to the pits of his stomach. "She was pregnant," he whispered, horrified, his voice cracking as his mind put it together as he looked around at the mess before them. "She must have…Oh, Christ," he moaned, not bothering to stop his tears. "What happened to you, sweetheart?" he whispered, speaking to the young woman as he held her close to his chest.
Alice nodded bitterly and spat in disgust. "Whoever did this to her, find him, Darius, and gut the bastard." Darius opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off, furious at the girl's predicament. "No. Don't argue with me, Darius. I've seen it. I've seen the way you look at her. You love her, there's no denying it. You love this girl. Don't fight it. I know you have what it takes within you to do what needs to be done," she snarled, her eyes blazing. "If you truly love her and want to protect her, you've got to kill this son of a bitch. Gut the bastard like you did your own father. He has to be stopped!"
Darius's body shook with the effort to remain calm and composed, but seeing her like this was making it very difficult for him. The priest wanted nothing more than to return to his roots and track down the man who had done this to her and gut him and watch, satisfied, as the man's entrails spilled from his stomach, much like his father's had. "She can't stay here," he whispered, gently lifting Madellaine in his arms and holding her close to his chest.
"Where the hell are we supposed to take her?" snapped Alice.
"She needs medical attention," he said thickly, turning away from Alice, his voice breaking. "She needs Sophia now or she'll die."
"I can't care for her here!" she shouted, gesturing at the puddle of blood on the floor. Alice sighed and rubbed her temples.
What a night this is turning out to be. By God, she's lucky to be alive. She had taken just the right dosage to kill the fetus, but if she had taken anymore, the girl would have done irreparable damage to her body. For that matter, she might already have. "Take her to the tower," spoke up Alice finally. "Don't you dare tell the boy, either," she added harshly, her face only inches from Darius's.
"What…?" He was confused.
"He doesn't need to know," Alice answered simply.
"We can't keep this a secret. He has to know!" Darius shouted.
"If she wanted anyone else to know, she would have come directly to me," she snapped, grabbing a rag and began to wipe her hands clean of the girl's blood. "The fact that she tried to keep this a secret tells me she doesn't want our bell ringer to know what her master did to her," she snarled, an ugly expression on her face, one of pure hatred and revulsion.
"I can't just let this go by without saying something—"
"Do not tell him," she hissed. "If you tell him the truth, there's no telling what kind of rampage he might go on. I've seen how he looks at her. The boy's in love with her, Darius, and she, I think, with him. The best thing for him is to never find out about this. We need him here. She needs him," Alice added sadly, gesturing her head to the unconscious girl in Darius's arms. "Take her to Jeanne before you take her to the tower," she said, pointing out the obvious bloodstains on the girl's dress near her abdomen. "He can't know," she answered thickly. "If she wants to tell him, that's her business, but it is not our place. Send for Sophia too, she'll need to take a look at the girl. I don't know much about penny royal and the dosages, but she'll know. Bring Sophia to me when she arrives; take the girl to my quarters. He cannot know what she's been through. I can't emphasize this enough. He can't know. If he does, there's no telling what he'll do, I've seen his temper, the boy almost killed Phoebus thinking he did this to her, broke his nose in two places," she growled, her eyes darkening as she remembered the right fucking mess the captain had come to her in, his leg practically shattered and his nose broken.
His face white, Darius could only nod in shock.
"You have my word, sister," he muttered darkly, standing and without another word, carrying her to the other sister, who wordlessly took her to the girl's quarters to get her cleaned up as best she could. By the time the sister had changed the girl's dress and cleaned her of the blood as best she could, the girl was still unconscious, her face drawn and ill.
She was lucky she hadn't been killed with what she'd done.
"Oh, God," moaned Darius, having found her at last. His face drained of color as his mind quickly put together what their newest caretaker of Notre Dame had done. "Jesus—Jesus Christ!" she swore, glancing at the bloody puddle by Madellaine's bare feet. "What happened to you, sweetheart?" he whispered, running over to her and cradling her in his arms. She was still alive, but only just barely. "You need Sophia's care."
Glancing sideways at the discarded vial of penny royal, he knew immediately what had happened. "Oh, God," he moaned, reaching up a shaking hand to stroke her hair. "You—you took care of it," he whispered, his voice cracking as he fought back his tears. "I—I can't."
Madellaine was in so much pain her complexion was ashen. Her skin sunken in tone to something so lifeless and white like a corpse that it scared Darius just to look at her. Her eyes closed and she sucked herself into a deeper place to cope with her pain, diving for the blackness of unconsciousness when it came for her.
All Darius could do for her was stroke her hair and hold her hand. It barely seemed enough, yet her heart rate slowly came down. From time to time, his blue eyes dropped to the mess by her feet, heartbroken at what had transpired, but mostly they were fixed on her face in a soft stare so that whenever Madellaine opened her eyes, his eyes were the first thing she would see. "I've been in your dark place before, honey. I am here, I'm here, I've got you, and I'm not going anywhere. You're not in this alone, sweetheart, I promise you," he whispered, keeping his voice low so that only she could hear him, pressing his lips to her forehead for a chaste kiss. "I've felt more pain than I knew a human body could bear and it breaks my heart to see you this way."
She murmured something inaudible and stirred slightly in his arms but she did not wake. Darius gingerly lifted her unconscious form in his arms, carrying her swiftly and silently to the north bell bitterly carried her in his arms to the tower, struggling to control the spew of dark thoughts swirling in his mind. By God, he was going to have to kill the bastard who had done this to her, of this he was almost certain. The excuse he'd gave to Quasi, who had met him halfway, was that she'd relapsed from her previous injuries. The poor boy's face was white with shock and he had such a look of grief in his eyes that Darius had to turn away, he was unable to look, he thought he might break down in tears. "Don't let her out of your sight," he advised sadly, his voice shaking as he transferred her unconscious form to the boy's arms. "She needs you," he said softly. He coughed to cover the fact his voice was cracking and he was close to tears. "Don't leave her alone."
Their bell ringer could only nod, a look of pain and rage in his eyes at the one who had attacked her. Darius briefly wondered if he'd have to station a guard outside the tower to keep an eye on the boy, make sure he didn't do anything rash.
He sighed as he realized that method would be ineffective. The boy would just scale the church walls, as usual.
"I don't want you going after him," he added sharply, eyeing the bell ringer carefully. "I know you're thinking it. Don't do it. I beg of you. She needs you." He noticed the bell ringer's back muscles tense up as he straightened his shoulders. As he turned to face him, Darius was not surprised to see a look of rage upon the younger man's face.
"That son of a bitch—"
"Language," reminded Darius gently. "Mind your tongue."
"I can't just stay here and do nothing!" he snarled.
"You don't have a choice!" he urged, doing his best to keep his voice down. It wouldn't do to start an argument and wake her.
"Damn it, Darius, I can't just stay up here and let this f—"
"You watch your tone with me. You leave finding this bastard to me. I will take care of it. He won't be getting anywhere near her, but I can't do this on my own. I need you. I need you to stay here and protect her, keep an eye on her. Don't let her out of your sight." The bell ringer didn't say anything; he was at a loss for words. "She needs you here," he snapped. "I'm not going to allow you to risk your life foolishly without thinking about her, when she loves you and wouldn't be able to bear it if she lost you."
This revelation took the younger man by surprise. The poor man had such a lock of shock on his face that under normal circumstances, Darius might have laughed. The priest sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. He swallowed hard. He didn't want to admit that he too, might be developing feelings for the girl, but if there was anything that might deter the bell ringer from doing something so idiotic as to risk his own life to bring her attacker to justice, it was revealing the knowledge that she loved him.
"She loves you," he whispered, his voice cracking. "She does."
He could only watch as the bell ringer coughed to mask the tears that were forming in his eyes and to disguise his own lump that was forming in his throat. "I won't leave her," he answered thickly, reaching up a trembling hand to stroke her hair. Even unconscious in his arms, she was still so beautiful.
Darius raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. "I need your word," he answered simply. "Do not go after him. I will take care of this. Do you trust me, my brother?"
It was a moment before his brother nodded. He was saved the trouble of responding by Madeleine stirring in his arms. Her face had a grayish tinge neither of them liked, the circles underneath her eyes more pronounced. She blearily opened her eyes and looked around, her eyes resting on the bell ringer's. Her gray eyes met Darius's blue eyes for just a moment and he had to look away. He couldn't stand to see her like this. It was killing him.
"You're here," she whispered weakly, gazing up at Quasi with relief, as if for some reason, she thought he might disappear.
He fought back tears, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he shushed her gently. "Shh," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead. Her skin was clammy and beaded with sweat. "I'm here," he promised soothingly. "I'm here, you're okay," he reassured her, only half-believing it himself. He wasn't sure how much longer he could remain calm; his panic was nearing the surface.
"You saved me," she whispered, such pain and fear in her eyes that he could not bear it. "You saved my life."
"No," he whispered, gazing at Darius, who had collapsed in a nearby chair and buried his face in his hands. "I didn't. Alice—"
"Yes, you did," she insisted, reaching up a shaking hand. Quasi stopped her gently and took her hand in his and kissed it.
"What are you talking about?" he urged gently, not accusingly.
"I dreamed of you. You—you brought me back," she whispered, leaning her head into his chest and shuddered as another cramp overtook her body. Her voice was shaking with the effort to power through the worst of pain. "I'm telling you the truth!" she protested.
"You need to rest, Madellaine," he said gently, shifting her slightly in his arms so he held her closer to his chest. His grip on her tightened, as if he were to let her go, he'd never hold her again.
He had no intention of losing her.
"You've been through something no one should ever have to go through. You should be resting. I should let you sleep, I need to—"
"I love you," she whispered. He froze, staring at her with his beautiful brown eyes. "I only wish I could have told you sooner."
"What?" he asked, hardly daring to believe it. "Are you—?"
"I love you. I have for some time now," she said quietly, wincing at the pain in her ribs as she spoke. "I just thought you should know, in case something happens to me..." Her voice trailed off and her gray eyes searched his, fearful and afraid of his answer to her declaration of her feelings for him. What he would say to her. She bit her lip and waited for him to respond.
Quasi's voice cracked as he spoke. "I love you too. I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you."
She reached up as best she could and kissed his cheek before laying her head against his chest and collapsing, losing herself to the darkness of her pain. The girl needed Sophia's care now.
"You'll take care of her?" Darius asked, breaking the silence.
Their bell ringer glanced up at him and nodded. Madellaine looked exhausted, but deep down, Darius knew she would pull through, for which he was relieved. He sighed and politely excused himself. Darius made it to the bottom of the tower steps before his legs gave out and he sat on the step, his shoulders shaking with sobs as he struggled to regain his composure. "God," he whispered through clenched teeth, clutching his rosary so tight in his hands, the wood was digging into his skin and causing blood to form. "I do not know what you ask of me in this life, but I beg of you, grant me permission to go after the one who would cause harm unto my family. I cannot idly sit by and watch as my family suffers. Please." Don't fight your urges. Give in.
Quasi met him halfway, a distraught look in his eyes and on his face, the girl still in his arms as he gingerly sat with the priest on the tower steps. "What happened?"
"She needs Sophia tonight or she won't make it," Darius said coldly, his pain hiding underneath an emotion he was much more comfortable with: Anger, and a muscle in his jaw twitched as he felt his jaw go hard and rooted, his voice clipped and hard at the thought of this precious angel leaving them.
"What—what happened?" cried Quasi, smoothing her bangs back away from her forehead, her head resting against his chest as she drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Darius hesitated, torn between two desires to tell the truth and keep the secret. If he found out what happened tonight, he would try to go after whoever had done this to Madellaine, and though Darius himself would be the first one to admit that he wanted it more than anything, to gut the bastard that did this to her just as he had his own father all those years ago, they needed a plan, and that took time.
"I don't know," he admitted through gritted teeth, turning away sharply and closing his eyes. He had lied through his teeth for the first time tonight and he hated every second of it. God forgive me, he begged internally. For I know not what I do, but he cannot know.
The noise woke Madellaine as she opened her eyes, hazy and in a daze, confused as to her surroundings. She blearily tried to focus her gaze a few feet in front of herself as Quasi met her gaze, his blind eye hazy and ice cold in its blueness, frozen over solid like a glacier in winter. His good eye, the brown hue held so much heartbreak that Madellaine could hear bare to look. Yet, she could not seem to pull her gaze away. "I…"
"What happened? What happened to you, Madellaine? Talk to me, tell me the truth," he demanded, almost sounding angry with her. Darius recognized the signs of an outburst coming, the way Quasi's face drained of color, the way his eyes would lose all semblance of warmth.
"I...I can't," she whispered, resting her head against his chest, too drained of energy to respond to his question.
"Quasi," warned Darius, but he was not listening to the priest and man that he considered like a brother figure. He had eyes and ears only for Madellaine in his arms.
Quasi opened his mouth to speak, but his voice trailed off and faltered as she reached up a trembling hand and caressed his scar with his scar, reaching up with the last vestiges of her strength to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. "What…?" he whispered, his voice cracking as she pulled back to study his face, to look into his eyes.
"I couldn't do it…" she whispered, resting her head against his chest and dove for the blackness of sleep as it came to her. He had no time to ask her what she meant.
"I…Darius, what happened to her?" he asked.
"It has to be her choice to tell," Darius said softly, standing to his feet once he was sure he was stable enough to, brushing his hands on his brown habit. "I can't tell you, Quasi. You'll take care of her?" he said, knowing full well his brother would say yes. "Will you?"
"Yes," he whispered; his gaze unwavering as he studied Madellaine's unconscious form in his arms. "I'd give my own life for hers if it came to it, Darius. I—I love her," he admitted, his tone pained as he glanced upwards at Darius. "What can I do for her?"
The look of heartbreak in his eyes was too much to bear.
Darius fixed Quasimodo with an ice-cold stare. "Not let her go."