Madellaine screamed and shouted at Jehan until she lost her voice, but it was no use. He'll never set me free. We're trapped in here and going to die. This is it. The end of the line. Surrounded by four walls of stone, there was nothing else to do but stare at them. To look at the cracks in the dungeon that had been gouged by other prisoners—anything to pass the time, slowly going mad—she theorized absurd meanings from the wall's blank staring. "Jehan!" she shouted, clutching the bars of her cage. "I know you hear me, Jehan! Let us free right now, or I swear to God I'll kill you and you'll rot in hell for all eternity, I swear it!"
"It's my fault," came Quasi's voice from the cell next to hers. "I'm so sorry, my love, I should never have put you through this. I—it's because of me you're mixed in all this." His voice was hard, bitter, fighting tears. "You should have told me his name from the beginning, love. Why didn't you?"
"Oh, thank God, you're alive! I thought the bastard killed you!" she wept, cringing at the pain in her wrists from her shackles. She jerked, praying they would loosen and come off, but her chains were tight and they weren't coming off, not without the key, which Jehan held, no doubt. "I'm so sorry, Quasi, I should have…I should have told you the truth from the very beginning about me. I thought if I told you who I really am, that you wouldn't...that you wouldn't want to be with me, and you wouldn't love me. I never meant to hurt you," she sobbed, her tears cascading down her cheeks. "I'll never forgive myself if something happens to you!" she cried. Sniffing, she wiped her nose with a handkerchief, tossing it out.
"Don't apologize, love. I understand. He would have killed you had you not listened. It isn't your fault, and it never will be, no matter what happens to me. I'm going to…I'm going to get you out," he promised thickly, anger laced in his voice. "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?" he demanded. "Tell me!"
"No," she whispered fearfully. "I—" but the creaking of her cell door opened, and she stumbled backward, away from Jehan's towering figure. "Jehan, please," she begged. "You don't want to hurt me, brother. Please."
Jehan scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Do you feel as uncomfortable as you look, my darling?" he crooned, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on his tunic.
"I wouldn't give you the pleasure!" she snapped.
"It brings me no pleasure," he said quietly. "I'd much rather set you free, Madellaine. You know this, don't you?"
"Then why don't you?" she shouted, doing her best not to showcase her fear. He'd backed her into a corner with nowhere to go. Her hands were bound by the manacles, so she couldn't use her hands. Not unless I can use these to strangle you, Jehan, she thought darkly. Maybe I will. I'll watch the life drain from your eyes. "You took everything from me, Jehan, what do I have left to live for? You might as well just kill me now and get it over with, because I'll never marry you! Never in a million years, brother!"
"I want to set you free. But in order to do that, I'd need you to make me a promise. Marry me, come with me. Start a family with me. Continue our father's legacy."
She fell silent, not wanting to further his wrath. Madellaine stared up at him, disgusted. "You'd marry your own sister to keep your bloodline going?" she shouted. "Jehan, you disgust me! Everything about you revolts me, get away from me!" she screamed, livid with rage.
"You see?" he said incredulously, gripping her chin in his hand. "I still want to help you. I still believe you can love me. You will love me," he ordered, no semblance of warmth in his dark eyes. "As I loved you. You'll provide me with an heir, or I'll see to it you burn, lovely."
"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER!" bellowed Quasi, and Madellaine cringed as she could hear him struggling against whatever chains he was bound in. "LET HER GO!"
"I don't think so!" snapped Jehan darkly. He turned to Quasi's cell and glowered at the young bell ringer, who'd seen better days. One of his eyes was bruised and there was a cut above his eyebrow. His face was ashen and afraid, but not for himself. He's afraid of what I'll do to her, he thought delightedly. This is my chance to have some fun. "She's mine, boy. You know, our father was right about you, boy," he growled, glancing down at the bell ringer with some level of amusement. "If I would have met you when Claude was still alive, I could have helped you. We could have helped you grow into a man, but this…it's pathetic. You've got a fiery spirit, kid. Too bad that flame in your spirit won't keep you alive for much longer," he snapped, unlocking Quasi's cell with great ease and striding over to the beaten bell ringer whose spirit had been broken at seeing Madellaine in her current state.
"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!"
Jehan laughed, yanking the bell ringer to his feet. "I don't think you will," he snarled through clenched teeth. "If she as much as looks at me in a manner that displeases me, you die. You know, I was going to kill you," he scoffed, disgust in his voice. "But I think I'm going to enjoy keeping you like my new plaything, boy," he growled, reaching up and gently releasing the bell ringer of his shackles, shoving him violently to the cell floor and smirking as the younger man groveled, trying to get his footing back. Quasi stumbled, reaching for Madellaine, and finally reached her after some difficulty. "Because I consider myself a decent man, I'm going to allow you a minute to make your peace and say your goodbyes," he snapped, turning to Madellaine. "Perhaps, my dear," he crooned, "This will help you to think over what I've offered. If not, well, I'll burn you. Be smart." He left them alone, the cell door clanging shut, and the noise resounding in the otherwise empty prison cell.
"God. What…how did we get here?" she whispered. She'd been here several times, as a matter of fact. She glanced to her left and saw to some relief; Quasi was next to her, although the man looked worse for wear. One of his eyes was blackened, his hair matted and tangled, his breathing ragged but he was alive. For now. A man's voice from the corner of their cell spoke up, startling her and causing her to cry out.
"Hello, lovely," the stranger's voice came. Her blood ran cold.
"You," she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Who are you? What do you want?" she demanded, her fear surfacing in outrage.
The Watcher smirked, an evil smile forming on his lips as he folded his arms across his chest and stepped into the shadows. "Wouldn't everyone like to know?" he said hotly, his tone cold and devoid of any emotions. "The whole city is talking about it—who is this blazing amazingly fast killer that no one can seem to catch? Everyone's just dying to know who this person is that can outrun the law and has no morales," he snapped, pacing in agitation as he paced the cell, turning away from Madellaine and finally lowering his hood at last.
Madellaine's blood felt like ice water in her veins and she felt what little color was left in her face completely drain as she stared into the face of Tristan, now grinning wickedly. "Shit," she hissed through clenched teeth and lunged for Tristan, but he sidestepped her advances and merely laughed. "You-you bastard!" she shouted, her temper reaching its breaking point at last. "I—I trusted you, and—and it was you this whole time?" she bellowed over the sound of Tristan's laughter. "Why?"
"Because I can, that's why," he said, sounding thoughtful. As she looked at Tristan as he restlessly paced the prison cell, she noticed no signs of his deformity in his hand or in his leg. He noticed her gaze and grinned, his blue eyes cold. Tristan leered at Madellaine's shocked expression. "It was so easy to fool all of you. Nobody ever suspects the p-poor bumbling s—squire, do they? It was the perfect cover, really. Great way to keep tabs on you. Jehan's promised me your hand in exchange for him," he mocked, faking his stutter, noticing Madellaine's eyes widen in shock. "I'm a man of my word, dear. You of all people should know that."
"Marcus loved you, Tristan, if that's even your real name! It's not, isn't it? I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you've been lying to me right from the start! Tricking me? What could you possibly hope to gain? Did you really think that I would ever be with you, Tristan? Not after that! After all you've done, you're a monster! Stalking me...faking your own death just to throw suspicion off yourself, I don't..." Madellaine shouted, her tears cascading down her cheeks as her brain struggled to process all the information. "How could you do this to me?" she yelled.
"No, how could you do this to me? This whole time that you were with me!" he bellowed, tears streaming down his face. "I watched over you for years, and you never even noticed me, Barreau, until it was practically too late! He will never be able to love you like I can! How could you do this to me? You're the only one who—who ever saw me for what I am. You—I—the only way I can control myself is when I'm around you. You, you make me want to be a better man, and you—you married him anyways! Why? WHY?" he demanded, the harshness of his voice startling to her and causing her to jump. "TELL ME!" he roared; the usual warmth of his voice gone. "Right now, or I swear to God, I'll slit his throat!" he shouted.
"Our marriage was prearranged by Lord Geoffroi, Tristan. Even if I hadn't wanted to, I wouldn't have had a choice. I—I want to help you, Tristan, to save you," she pleaded, backing away into a corner, wildly searching for another way out. "Please...let me help you, what can I do, there must be something I can do for you..." she paused, hesitating as she glanced back towards Quasi's unconscious form. He stirred uneasily but didn't seem to wake. "You wanted me, so here I am. Take me instead. Leave the bell ringer alone, but do whatever you want with me," she managed, somehow, by the Grace of God, she was able to quell the tremors in her voice and display no fear in front of the man she had once considered a friend. "I'll go with you, I'll marry you even, but do not harm him. That's my deal. Take it or leave it. If you harm him, though, then you're going to have to kill me too, and then you'll never have me," she hissed angrily.
Tristan was losing it, beads of sweat formed on his brow and he seemed to be fighting against something and losing. His hands began to violently shake, and he grew more agitated by the minute. Madellaine flinched and shirked away from his touch. "Don't kill her," murmured Quasi groggily from his spot on the cell. "You're a monster. You destroyed our lives, brainwashed Madellaine, and now you're trying to ruin her life too! I won't let you," he snarled. "If you really can't control yourself that much, then kill me," he hissed through gritted teeth. "Because if you take my wife away from me, all that's left of me is scar tissue."
"STOP TALKING!" shouted Tristan, and Madellaine recoiled as the whites of his eyes seemed to go black. He let out a guttural growl from the back of his throat and slammed Quasi against the wall, his hands around his throat. "You...really...don't want to upset me right now," he bellowed.
"NO!" screamed Madellaine desperately, tugging on Tristan's sleeve, trying to pull him away. "Don't...do this, Tristan, please, if-if you do this, I'll never forgive you for this!" she shouted, tears streaming down her face. "I'll go with you, just let him go!" she sobbed, her tears still desperately cascading down her cheeks. "Let me help you. I can... I can save you," she whispered.
Tristan turned to her and scoffed, unsheathing his sword from its scabbard. "THERE'S NOTHING LEFT OF ME TO SAVE!" he bellowed, and made to plunge his dagger deep into her chest, but before he could, Madellaine watched in horror as a pool of blood formed in his mouth, dripping down his chin and onto the floor. Her eyes drifted downwards and saw to her horror that the man had been impaled with a pole. Quasi had yet again saved her life, and for that she owed him. Tristan's strength gave out as his legs collapsed and Madellaine watched as the life force left his eyes and he took his last miserable breath, her face the last thing he saw… Hell was nothing like Tristan had imagined, but then he'd never felt pain in his life, so how could he? Pain had been something for his victims and how he'd loved seeing it radiated from their eyes and their stretched wide mouths screaming into the empty fields. He had never believed in God, in heaven or hell, but idly he had wondered why this omnipotent being didn't stop him. Perhaps this was a God of war, of pain and suffering, perhaps he was to be honored in the next life. He had liked that thought. On his death he was not given a choice of punishment, instead God bestowed upon him perfect clarity- the ability to understand as a God does the suffering inflicted on his victims, the pain of their loved ones and the pain of God Himself. He understood in that brilliant flash that God can only act through the willing heart and mind. Tristan fell, begging for ignorance, amnesia or a chance to right his wrongs but God was gone, underfoot was a grassy field, and screams rent the air…his screams as he burned for his sins….
Madellaine did not spare Tristan's corpse a second glance,
"Thank God. You saved us. You—you killed him. You're all right," she breathed, relieved, enveloping him in a hug. I've never seen him look this weak. "What did they do to you?" she cried, not stopping her tears. "I'm so sorry, I never should have done this to you. This is all my fault!"
She caressed his face in her hands, hating that his face was devoid of color, there were dark circles underneath his eyes, and his right eyes was blackened and rapidly swelling shut. "What did they do to you?"
"It's all right, I can take care of myself, and I've been through worse, believe me, love," he groaned, wincing at the stiffness in his legs as he rose. He pulled her close for a passionate kiss. "I'm going to get us out of here," he promised, actively searching for a way out. "Just need to think…"
"Wait, Quasi, I have something to say," she pleaded desperately, tugging on his sleeve pulling back. "There was something I never got to tell you."
"Madellaine, whatever you have to say can wait until we get out of here."
"No, it can't! We might not make it out of here alive," she shouted, her tears coming fast now. "I love you, Quasi, and I do have an answer for you," she sobbed, cradling his head in her hands. "Yes," she whispered. "If we make it out of here, I'll marry you."
Jehan opened the door, a truly evil gleam in his eyes. "Time's up, princess," he growled, wrenching Madellaine away from Quasi and dragging her by the manacles her wrists were bound to. He glowered at Quasi. "I'll be back for you, boy. There's no going quick for you. I'm going to kill you slowly."
"JEHAN, LET GO OF ME!" she screamed, resisting going with him, jerking against her chain, but he smirked and lifted her in his arms effortlessly as if she weighed next to nothing for him.
"LET HER GO, YOU BASTARD!" shouted Quasi, and made to go after them, but not before Jehan locked the door and grinned at the young bell ringer.
"I don't think so," he snapped. "She's mine." He turned to Madellaine in his arms, who was glowering at him with such hatred, her look would have turned him to stone had she the ability to do so. "I'm going to enjoy this, love."
He felt his scream tear through him like a shard of glass as he watched Jehan whisk Madellaine away to God knows where, to do what, he could only guess, and he didn't like to think what he would do to her if he couldn't get free and save the woman he loved. His scream came again, desperate, terrified…human. He wrenched the cell door open like it was nothing, and before he was even aware, he was making a conscious decision, he ran, not knowing where the hell they went. His ears strained for more sounds, any sign of where Jehan might have taken her. He had no clue as to what he'd do when he found them, only that he had to get there fast. He barely had time to react as a piercing scream filled the corridor. A woman's scream, the kind that made his blood run cold and freeze. "Madellaine," he whispered, hating himself for having brought her here. If they'd stayed, he could have protected her. "I won't let him kill you! Just hang on!" Quasi ran, almost barreling into Darius on his way.
"They're in the great hall!" shouted Darius, whose dark hair was disheveled, one of his eyes blackened. He groaned and held his shoulder, grimacing at the pain. "This way! I came when I heard the screaming. I don't know what that bastard is doing to her, but it's bad!" he shouted, not wanting to waste any time. Both men skidded to a halt as they reached the Palace of Justice's great hall. Quasi froze, in shock, as he saw Jehan's towering form crushing Madellaine's who was losing the last bit of her strength as she fought Jehan against his hold, one of his hands buried underneath her skirts, his other pressed in against the back of her hair. Darius raised a finger to his lips, signaling Quasi to be quiet. He motioned with his hands to split up and flank Jehan from either side, one of them would hopefully get lucky and be able to take the bastard out for good. We've got to kill him, Darius communicated with his eyes. I don't like it, but there's no other way. He must be stopped. Are you with me? If we don't, he'll kill her. Quasi nodded darkly. I'm going to kill him. Let me do it. Jehan was talking to Madellaine in low tones. She had seen better days. Her hair was matted with congealed blood, a gash on her forehead trickled blood down her cheek, and a horrible purple bruise underneath her left eye was developing, as well as a cut above her right eyebrow. Her red gown's hem was torn slightly, causing her to trip and fumble over it as she attempted to escape. "You see?" Jehan was saying urgently. "I still want to save your life. I still believe you can be saved!"
"Not the way you'd save it, I'd rather die! I will not be forced to marry my own brother! I'll die before I ever let you touch me again!" she bellowed, her eyes briefly flitting to Darius and Quasi. She froze. Darius did his best to communicate. Find a distraction. Stall him. Keep him talking long enough for us to get behind him. You can do this, Madellaine. Help us kill this bastard! Help us set you free.
"What's your answer, my love?" Jehan demanded.
"I don't understand!" she cried, turning her gaze back to Jehan and willing no fear to show on her face, although she was failing miserably. "I don't understand, Jehan, of all the women in Paris you could choose to marry, why me? Your own sister, Jehan, it's disgusting!"
"I don't know why I wish I knew!" he said calmly.
"You truly are a monster, Jehan!" Madellaine shouted.
Jehan's eyes grew dark and he seized her wrist, pulling her forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. "No. You are mistaken, Madellaine. Take pity on me, my dear. I'm only human, after all. I've lost the only family I cared about. You don't know what my love for you is! It's fire!"
"I won't marry you, Jehan!" she snarled. "NEVER!"
"If you want the bell ringer alive, you'll come with me willingly of your own volition. If you as much as look at me in a manner that displeases me, he dies. If you decide to be noble and take your own life one day, he'll die. You and I will marry, beloved, and you'll provide me with an heir." He glanced at Quasi and Darius, whose hearts sank into their stomachs. He knows, thought Darius wildly. Jehan smirked and he turned and cupped Madellaine's face in his hand, tilting her head to kiss her passionately. She stiffened, not returning his kiss. He broke apart and glared at Madellaine. "Am I not merciful?" Madellaine glowered at Jehan, not answering. A muscle in his jaw twitched and his handsome face contorted into a grimace. His hand drifted to her neck and he began to strangle her. "AM I NOT MERCIFUL?" Madellaine coughed, gasping for air as her gaze met Quasi's. Their eyes locked and all she could see in his eyes was the rage. The entitlement in Jehan's voice, the outrage, the jurisdiction of his tone frightened her. This is how I die.
"Jehan… please, don't do this…" she begged, grasping at his hands, struggling to free herself. "I…need…you…" she gasped. "Stop, please…"
Satisfied, he released her. Madellaine erupted into a coughing fit and collapsed to her knees, a hand on her throat. "Hang on!" shouted Quasi, rushing and kneeling to tend to Madellaine. "I've got you," he whispered soothingly.
"Get out of here!" she managed weakly, wrenching away from Quasi's touch. "He'll kill you! Leave me alone; I can take care of myself! GO!" she shouted, wrenching away from him.
"No," he retorted angrily, not relinquishing his hold on her. "I'm not leaving you alone ever again," he promised. "I made a promise to you and I intend to keep it."
"I've waited for this moment for a long time, boy," Jehan snapped, no warmth in his tone, his dark eyes almost black in color. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair and scowled at Darius, who had no weapon in his hand. Not giving the bell ringer a chance to react, he grabbed his sister by her arm, wrenching her to her feet, pulling her out onto the terrace. "You killed our brother. For that, your actions have consequences."
"Let her go, Jehan!" roared Darius. "If you let her go now, you can still walk away from this in one piece. Leave now, and don't harm her, and we'll let you live. It's your choice, Jehan."
"This is the best the greatest general in France and Germany can do?" he taunted, looking amused. "Look at you, Father, you've no sword to defend yourself. You'd willingly give up your own life for these two? You're weak! The years away from the wars made you soft, my friend!" Jehan charged at Darius, who'd been anticipating the move. The priest removed from his sheath a silver dagger, and Madellaine recognized it as her father's. But how…? He must have taken it from me when I wasn't looking. Good. Use it to slit his throat! The younger Frollo scream let out a guttural growl of rage from the back of his throat and wrestled Darius to the ground, but Darius was thinner and more agile than Jehan and managed to get on top, restraining Jehan by his shoulder.
"You won't kill me," mocked Jehan wickedly.
"Do it, Darius!" shouted Quasi, beside himself with rage.
Darius screamed, torn between the two desires to protect the only family he had left and to rid Paris of the last Frollo, save for Madellaine. Jehan sensed his hesitation and plunged the dagger into Darius's shoulder. The priest screamed and dug at the dagger, his blood soaking his tunic, staining it in its garish redness. "How easy it was to kill you," laughed Jehan, spitting at Darius's feet. "The noble, valiant warrior of Notre Dame herself couldn't even protect his brother or the woman he loves," he taunted, disgusted at the young priest. "If only my brother could see you both now, especially you, boy," he growled, glaring at Quasi. "Both of you, cowards! Fear not, Claude. I told you!"
Madellaine's voice spoke up behind Jehan, startling him out of his monologue. "You won't kill anyone, Jehan. I won't let you." Her voice cracked, but she fought it back down. She lifted her head and jutted her chin out at Jehan defiantly and glared at him. "It's over," she said calmly. "I have to go with you. You've won."
Jehan laughed and turned and met his sister's gaze. "What are you going to do, lovely? Hmm? You can't kill me." Madellaine grinned, a truly wicked grin on her fact that Darius and Quasi didn't know what to make of. Darius screamed at the pain in his shoulder, this burning intense fire that dug into his shoulder and spread warmth throughout his entire body. "You don't have a violent bone in your body. You never did, sister."
"Maybe not, but why should I try to fight this anymore? I can't win against you, so I've no choice but to marry you, Jehan," she snapped, reaching up on her tiptoes to pull him down into a passionate kiss, her kiss hungry and demanding. Jehan, startled, returned her kiss. He didn't notice it as Madellaine snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss, and was too late to fight back.
Jehan took a moment to hold both her hands in his, and his dark eyes drifted towards her left hand, where her simple yellow gold band glinted. "Jesus," he scoffed, lifting her hand slightly, raising it just so to closer examine the wedding band she proudly wore on her left hand, after he'd asked her. "That's the best your husband could do for you. But it's so…so plain. It's a disgrace."
Disgusted, she jerked her hand out of her brother's touch, gingerly rubbing her hand as though Jehan had burned her. "He could have given me nothing and I still would have married him, Jehan!" she shouted, feeling insulted.
"What is that you see in this monster that you don't see in me?" he demanded, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "Tell me, right now, sister, or—"
Despite her fear at her current company and situation, Madellaine felt a genuine smile creep its way onto her face, a faraway look in her gray eyes as she chose to stare out at the city instead of at Jehan. "He's handsome," she said softly. "He's kind. Treats me with respect and kindness." She frowned as she turned back towards Jehan. "He's no monster, Jehan. He's not the monster here, Jehan, you are!" Madellaine spat venomously, disgusted.
Jehan let out a guttural growl from the back of his wrist and seized her arm, shoving her backwards violently against a stone pillar with no way out. A brief flash of red appeared out of the corner to her right. Quasi, she thought, breathing an audible sigh of relief. Darius was trailing close behind. Stall him, Darius was trying to silently communicate to her with his eyes. Madellaine gave off the tiniest nods, not enough for her brother to notice, and turned her attentions back towards Jehan, who was admiring her slender form in her red gown. He scoffed and rolled her eyes at her glowering look of hatred. "Do you feel as uncomfortable as you look, my love?" he said, keeping one hand grasped tightly around her delicate thin wrist. "I think so!"
"I wouldn't give you the pleasure!" she snarled through clenched teeth, a fire blazing in her haunting gray eyes. Her gaze flitted back towards her husband, who made a silent motion with his hand for her to keep him talking.
"It gives me no pleasure," Jehan Frollo said quietly, his serious tone unlike his usual jovial behavior. "I would much rather set you free, sweetheart."
"Then why don't you?" Madellaine shouted desperately, wrenching her arm free and backing away against a stone pillar, almost tripping over her dress's long hem. Her eyes darted back towards her husband and Darius. Please. Darius nodded, raising a finger to his lips, silencing her. Jehan continued.
"Because in order to do that, I would need you to make me a promise, sister," Jehan retorted softly, his ironclad grip on her hand tightening. "Marry me, come away from this wretched place," he added, glancing around the balcony with a look of disgust in his eyes. She knew he was thinking of him. Madellaine did not know how to respond to his pleas. She fell silent. "You see?" Jehan said, beads of sweat forming on his brow now. "I still want to save you, dear, sweet sister. I still believe that your soul can be saved!"
"Not the way you'd save it, I'd rather die!" Madellaine bellowed, trying her hardest to ignore the pained look in her husband's eyes. "Go to hell, Jehan!"
"What about Quasimodo, the monster, your lover?" he hissed, his tone sounding utterly disgusted. "Would you rather he die as well? His fate lies in your hands, lovely. If you don't come with me, then he dies a painful death."
"No," she whispered, her voice coming out as a low, breathy squeak.
"What is your answer, sister?" Jehan demanded.
"I…I don't understand!" she sobbed, tears welling in her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks in desperation. "I don't understand. Why me, Jehan, of all the women you could take for your wife in Paris, why me? Your own sister?"
Jehan paused, suddenly looking defeated. "I don't know why. I wish I knew," he sighed, sounding, dare she think it for a moment, truly remorseful. Madellaine had heard enough. She had been foolish to think there was any sort of hope for her brother's character and his soul to be redeemed. He was well and truly lost, and only his death might bring him some small form of peace, though she highly doubted that.
"You truly are a monster, brother!"
Jehan's dark eyes grew even darker, almost black in color, and her wrenched her wrist forward, his vice grip tightening and threatening to dislocate her wrist if she so much as spoke out of turn against him again.
"Oh, no, my lovely. Take pity on me, sister. I'm only human, after all. You don't know what my love for you is!" he bellowed, a pleading, desperate edge to his voice now that Madellaine knew she did not like, and even the shift in his tone had temporarily halted Father Darius and Quasi in their tracks. "It's fire, it's—it's hot lead! You rouse in me the wish to set you free. I will save you, sorceress. I'll take you away from this place, just you and me. You know I'll love you until the world ends," he added, almost as an afterthought as he made to cup her chin in his hand, but she violently wrenched away from him.
"Jehan, your love for me is nothing more than a false love, based off of lust and conquest!" Madellaine hissed angrily through clenched teeth. She closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths, willing her temper to calm down, lest she say something she truly regret, and then she would really be in trouble.
Her brother fell silent, regarding his younger, now-married sister in silence for several long excruciating moments before finding his voice again. When he spoke, his voice was shaking, and full of a strange resolve she'd not heard. "If you want your…husband…alive, you'll come with willingly of your own volition. If you so much as look at me in a manner that displeases me, he dies. If you decide to be noble and take your own life one day, he dies. And as for you," he growled, fixing his younger sister with an ice-cold stare. "You will love as I love you. You will provide me with an heir of pure blood, so that our family's name and progeny will rule France for a thousand years."
Madellaine was rendered speechless at Jehan's so-called 'plan.'
Is he stupid? Does he really think that I would willingly go with him and sire children with him? She stared, unable to believe what had just come out of her brother's mouth. Jehan frowned, taking that as his sign to continue as he advanced upon her, cupping her chin in his hand, tilting it slightly to force her to look at him. "Am I not merciful?" he murmured low, his voice heavy with desire for his own sister, adopted or not, what he wanted was still incredibly wrong. "Jehan, you…" Her voice trailed off as Jehan pressed his lips to her cheek for a gentle, chaste kiss. Scream at him. Yell, be defiant! But she couldn't force her lips to move to form the words she so desired to scream and rage at him.
Jehan pulled away from her slightly, pulling back to study his sister's pale face. When she did not respond, unable to fight against his urge any longer as he forcefully lunged himself at Madellaine, closing off the gap of space between them. "AM I NOT MERCIFUL?" he screamed, his powerful voice echoing all throughout the Palace of Justice's balcony and into the loft as well. Madellaine gazed up at her brother in utter fear and trepidation, her mind no longer forming coherent thoughts. Her eyes darted around wildly until her gaze rested on her husband. She froze. The outrage, the entitlement, the jurisdiction in his voice frightened her more than anything physical he could do to her. She needed to escape from him. If she didn't, she was going to die.
Madellaine tried to apologize to both Darius and Quasi for what she was about to do with her eyes, begging both men to forgive her for this next part. She turned back to Jehan, not wanting to give away her rescuers' position. "Jehan," she said smoothly, transforming her normally shy, quiet, kind voice into something more like a seductive purr that was not like at her at all. She hated it, what she had to do to keep Jehan Frollo distracted, but so this was. Madellaine noticed Quasi and Darius had been rendered frozen to their spots behind a nearby pillar, Darius's hand hovering over the hilt of his sword, his fingers twitching as he seemed to resist the urge to pull it out. She smiled at her brother, snaking her arms around his neck and pulling him down slightly, desperate to keep his attentions focused on her for just a second longer. "You're right," she whispered in what she hoped was a convincing enough tone. "I don't need my husband, that—that demon in my life," she spat, disgusted. "He cannot satisfy me like you can, dear brother. All I've ever wanted is you. I—I was foolish to reject your advances for so long. I realize that now. I…" here she hesitated for only a fraction of a second. "I adore you," Madellaine said quickly, biting her lip playfully and hoping that gesture alone was enough to convince him that she was truly genuine.
"Now you're seeing reason," he grunted. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
"Take me away from Paris. I can't stand it here," she lied, her eyes still flicking from Darius to her husband, pleading for them to hurry the hell up and do something—anything—take him out before she gave them all away. Her gray eyes widened as Darius crept closer towards Jehan, his sword finally drawn from its scabbard. Jehan started to turn around, but thinking fast, she cradled her brother's face in her hands and yanked him forward to kiss him passionately, cringing, her mind screaming at her to break it off. Her hands entangled in his dark hair, her hand pressing against the back of his skull, desperate to keep him from turning around, but it was to no avail.
Jehan reached out his free hand as he broke apart, adjusted his stance just so and backhanded Notre Dame's young priest so hard he staggered backwards. "You really didn't think I would make it that easy for you, did you, Father?" he taunted. He turned towards Madellaine, a look of disgust upon his handsome face. "Give me some credit, sweetheart," he grinned. "I'll deal with you in a moment, dear sister," he snarled, grabbing her arm and standing up with her on the ledge of the balcony's railing with careful footing.
"Jehan, no!" Madellaine begged, but he gave her wrist one sharp twist and she quieted. "Please don't do this," she tried again, but he wasn't listening.
"Are you still angry with this bell ringer after he…what he did to Claude?"
"Why are you doing this?" Madellaine demanded angrily, hating all of this.
"Because," he added, pressing the tip of his blade into his sister's throat. "Your husband has something to say to me and to both of us. Don't you?"
Quasi said nothing, a look of outrage and horror dawning in his eyes.
Jehan sighed. "An apology? Apologize to me for what you did. Apologize to myself and my sister for murdering our older brother," he commanded.
His voice was slow and dangerously calm and quiet. A storm was coming.
Quasi hesitated. "I—I'm sorry," he said quietly, having eyes only for Jehan.
"Look at her, boy. An apology doesn't mean anything if you're not looking the person in the eye," Jehan mocked coldly, a twisted grin upon his features.
Notre Dame's bell ringer cringed, lifting his chin slightly to meet his wife's gaze. What he saw in her eyes broke his heart several times over. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" prodded Jehan, pressing the tip of the blade into the column of her throat even harder. "I want to hear you say it, boy. Tell me what you did."
Quasi's voice cracked as his gaze flitted from his wife to Jehan Frollo. "For…" his voice faltered, and he fought back the lump forming in his throat.
"Yes?" Jehan continued, starting to get slightly impatient. "Get on with it."
"For killing your brother," he finished, never taking his eyes off his wife.
Jehan lowered the tip of his dagger just slightly, fixing his brother's son with a cold stare, before breaking into a surprisingly charming grin. "Wonderful! Over and done with," he grinned. "Doesn't everyone feel better, I know I do! Glad that's settled. Things were getting rather intense," he chuckled. But then his smile faltered. "You know, come to think of it, with Claude dead, you and I are the closest thing to kin we have left, and for killing my brother—your own father—it still needs punishment." Jehan glanced sideways at Madellaine, whose face remained impassive, but the briefest flickers of fear passed through her gray eyes. "Good. This'll do."
"No, no, no, take me!" Quasi pleaded, raising his hands in surrender. "Let her go. It's me you want. Take me instead," he begged desperately.
"NO!" Madellaine shouted, seemingly forgetting for a moment that her brother was holding her at knifepoint. "Take me. Let him go. Spare him."
Jehan merely laughed at his sister's plea. "Oh, how noble you two are! Lucky for both of you, I plan on dealing with you both in a few moments." He turned towards his sister, cupping her chin in his hand, tilting it and whispering into the shell of her ear. "Exchange your last words with one another. It's all the time you have left, sweetheart. If I cannot have you, if you will not come with me, then I am afraid, that no one shall have you," he growled. Jehan turned his gaze towards his brother's boy, who was rapidly losing his temper, his entire body trembling with the effort to control himself, his strong hands balled into fists. The boy was losing himself to the darkness in his heart as Jehan could clearly see it in his eyes, he wanted to kill Jehan.
"Let her go right now, you bastard!" Quasi bellowed. "I'm warning you."
"Or what?" taunted Jehan, shifting the edge of his dagger down towards her side. "You killed our brother, you son of a bitch," Jehan Frollo growled lowly. His body was shaking as he looked into the dark brown eyes of his brother's ward. He had Claude's eyes. "Like father, like son, I guess," he snapped. Turning towards Madellaine, who was silently crying, tears cascading down her cheeks, he grinned. "Which one is it going to be?" Jehan challenged, his eyes half-crazed with madness. "You can only go after one. Me, or the whore," he snarled, twisting his sister's arm hard enough that she cried out. His gaze fell upon Darius, who made no motion to surrender his weapon. "Drop your sword, Darius," he retorted calmly. "I said drop it. Drop it right now on the ground there, or she dies. Sheath your sword or drop it."
Seeing no other choice, Darius swallowed nervously and gingerly laid his weapon on the balcony floor, all the while wildly glancing around, searching for another way to get Quasi and his wife to safety. He only saw one way out of this mess, and he didn't like it. Madellaine met his eyes and begged him not to do this. No. Don't do this, Darius, please, she seemed to say to him. I must. There's no other way. Darius hoped that one day, she would understand why he did it. Madellaine shook her head slowly at him, fresh tears welling in her eyes. He silently pleaded with the young woman for her to comprehend his decision. If anyone understand what he had to do, she did. He had to save her. He had sworn an oath to the Archdeacon to protect her.
"Jehan, let her go!" Darius ordering, standing to his feet, wincing at the pain in his ribcage from the blow Jehan had dealt him. The man was strong, he would give him that. "Don't do this! It's not too late for you. You can stop this, and we will let you live. You can walk away from here, but only if you let the lady go and do not harm her. Don't harm her, and your life is yours. Let her go. Right now," he commanded, fixing Jehan with a glacier cold, icy stare.
Jehan laughed, his laughter cruel and mocking, echoing through the balcony. He shifted Madellaine his arms, shooting his sister one last apologetic glance. "Very poor choice of words, Father." His eyes landed on Madellaine. "You, sweet, darling sister, have been a thorn in my side long enough. I've had enough," he growled harshly through gritted teeth. Her brother's eyes burned with such anger and hatred that an icy, cold chill ran up the length of her spine, paralyzing her in fear.
She was no soldier. Like her father had been. Like Captain Phoebus was. Then again, Jehan himself was no great warrior anymore either. Once he had been, but no longer. Perhaps he had enough knowledge and skill to suffice in a mild skirmish, but this was not so. In this, Madellaine knew she was to die now. "Then," Madellaine began slowly, not looking at Jehan, feeling her eyes grow wide and round with fear as she locked eyes with Quasi, apologizing for this. She could not lose her courage now, not when it meant she could save him. If the only good that came of this was the chance that her husband was safe, then it would have to be good enough. She could live with such a death. If it was fighting for her friends. If she fought to protect him. "You must remove it. Brother," she hissed through clenched teeth. That was enough for Jehan. Jehan Frollo did not hesitate to plunge his dagger into her rib cage on her right side, taking immense pleasure in twisting the hilt.
She could barely hear Quasi's screams and Darius shouting something. Searing fiery bursts pulsated around the wound site, intensifying with each dragging step as the young woman stumbled backwards, the only barrier between her and certain death was Jehan's grip on her shoulder. With each step she tried to take, the pain only intensified, the wound site screaming for relief, her consciousness ebbed. Black mists swirled at the edges of her mind, drawing her into sweet oblivion that she desperately fought, trying her hardest to stay awake. She had to save Quasi and Darius. Even the passage of light slowed and the sounds of her husband screaming something became as if underwater. Aside from the beat of her heart, no muscle moved. That pounding inside beat a rhythm to the words of her execution, that cold steel of Jehan's blade was her judge, jury, and executioner. Her face was frozen now, gray eyes open, as she was propelled backwards towards the balcony's ledge. Madellaine's eyes held Jehan's steel dark eyes, how like Claude's they were, and in those fractions of seconds, she was there and then gone, the warmth of the ages that had been her love slowly heading towards extinction. She fought to stay awake, though it was becoming harder for her. Her eyesight blurred, but not because tears were welling up, though they were. Everything became hazy, and then she saw nothing at all.
Madellaine, in a last-ditch effort to save herself, grabbed onto the one thing that could have saved her from her fall, which happened to be the coat tail of Jehan's dark-navy blue coat. Together they fell. She saw nothing but blackness. Not Darius, not Quasi, not Jehan. Her consciousness was floating through an empty space filled with a strange black static. Throughout the inky space, her heartbeats pounded loudly, echoing in her eyes, alongside her weak, fading pleas for help. The feeling in her body drained away until all was finally black, and she lost herself to the darkness of a deep, dreamless sleep. Everything was black. She found herself falling in this darkness, hurtling to an invisible floor. A floor that would most likely kill her if she continued to fall at this speed. The air pushed against her face, she closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. She was not awake as Jehan dropped her off the edge of the balcony to fall to her death, for which she was grateful.
The last though she had before allowing herself to succumb to her wounds was, At least I won't be awake when I hit the stones below. If I'm to die this way, at least I saved him.