A/N: Hi all, and welcome back! It is here where things kind of start to take a bit of a detour from the movies, but hopefully, is still a good chapter.
Chapter Thirteen: A New Friend
MADELLAINE startled, almost fumbling the small wooden basin of bloodied water in her hand from where she had tended to Quasi's wounds, feeling a prickling heat creep to her chest, sending a spiraling warmth through her entire system, and creeping its way at a rapidly alarming pace into her cheeks.
She had been under the impression when she had brought Quasimodo back into the cathedral, given the way the crowd had looked at him, parting as the Red Sea did for Moses, that no one would want to see him, not after that.
Clearly, she now knew herself to be completely wrong in that regard. She swallowed down hard past the growing lump in her throat as she stepped off the bottom step, wracking her brain for something to say.
Thankfully, the Romani dancer who had pulled Quasi up on the stage broke the silence first.
"I—I came here to apologize," she murmured.
"I…" Madellaine stammered, blinking owlishly at the tanned Romani woman with the ebony curls that, if she were being honest with herself, made her feel a little self-conscious as she reached up with her free hand to tuck a stray wisp of blonde hair back behind her ear.
She cringed, thinking how horribly awkward of a situation this was, suddenly wishing for nothing more than the black and white checkered tile beneath her feet to open up and swallow her whole and not let her re-emerge until the girl had gone.
The horrible way the Feast of Fools had ended was still on Madellaine's mind, much to her chagrin, despite her best efforts to put today's horrific events out of her mind, and suddenly, she cursed herself. She had room to talk. The young blonde hearth keep winced and cast a skittish glance behind her shoulder towards the north tower stairwell.
If anyone should want to put this day behind him for good, it was that boy.
"Quasi," she whispered, his name leaving her lips without any semblance of hesitation on her part, which the young woman felt odd.
The dancer from the stage had seen the movement of her lips, though Madellaine had barely moved them and was looking rather tense. "What?" she asked, furrowing her dark brows in a frown as she put her hands on her hips. "What did you say?" she asked, looking confused.
Madellaine blushed, a light pink blush speckling along her cheeks. "H—his name," she stammered, clarifying for the young Romani woman upon sensing her furrowed brows and the way the edges of her mouth turned downward in a slight frown.
She sighed, reaching up and moving her blonde bangs off her forehead out of her way, pursing her lips into a frown as she stooped for a moment to set the basin of medical supplies that needed emptying on a small wooden table next to a five-pronged candelabra.
"You should apologize," she began hesitantly, careful to keep the anger from seeping into her tone, though she could tell by the way the other woman flinched that it was much too late for that, that this exotic dancer, was hurt.
Good, Madellaine thought meanly in a snakelike voice that did not quite sound like her conscience at all, and the young blonde blinked, startled at the change. This girl ought to be ashamed for what she did to Quasimodo.
The other woman cringed and bit down on her bottom lip, which signaled to Madellaine, who considered herself fairly observant on a good day, that she did, at the very least, feel a small semblance of guilt for her role in what had transpired outside the cathedral doors tonight, which wasn't in her mind saying much, as actions speak louder than words, but…
But she's sorry. Look at her eyes, the tension in her shoulders. She regrets her part in this, her conscience piped up helpfully. Let her go up and apologize.
Madellaine offered the voice in the back of her mind a curt little nod, just small enough that the other woman did not notice it, or if she had, the girl knew to hide her surprise well and was quite good at concealing her shock, for which Madellaine was grateful.
The last thing she wanted was to have to explain herself.
She heaved a sigh and pinched at the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, resigned to the fact that if that boy was going to get an apology out of this woman, she would have no choice but to step aside and let her pass, for she had sensed the man's initial reluctance to follow her downstairs, content to stay put in his bell towers.
Madellaine frowned, feeling more than a little confused by the hot fire seed of anger that welled and churned in the pit of her stomach as a coil in her gut twisted, and she swore she tasted bile when she looked up.
"I thought that you behaved abominably," Madellaine began carefully, speaking very slowly and clearly to ensure she was understood, as her French accent was rather thick, and this other woman did not sound French at all.
She watched with the slightest twinge of satisfaction as the dark-haired, dark-skinned Romani woman shifted rather uncomfortably.
When the other girl said nothing, Madellaine took that as her sign to continue. "But…"
She heaved a heavy sigh, slumping her shoulders in resigned defeat. Madellaine lacked the energy and strength to argue, and she wanted nothing more than to put the tragic events of today behind her.
"But what his—my—o—our master, did to him was a disgrace to the name of man by not stopping the crowd's cruelty when it escalated, and allowing his own soldiers, men who are supposed to promote peace, to carry on in such a despicable way was abhorrent, and…they are the ones to blame, mademoiselle, not…you," she stammered, feeling her blush intensify as the woman's dark eyebrows rose high on her forehead in alarm and shock. "Wh—what's your name?" Madellaine questioned, internally cursing herself for forgetting proper edict, a common woman like herself or not.
Everything about this little surprise encounter was just so horribly awkward, and Madellaine blushed, the heat on her cheeks intensifying until she was certain that she was as beet red as a tomato. She let out a sigh.
She wanted nothing more than to put a prompt end to this conversation and bid the woman a good night. Madellaine had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that Master Frollo was, given the circumstances, not in the best of moods tonight and would no doubt require attending to following the disastrous conclusion of the FOF.
"Esmeralda," she answered immediately without any hesitation. There was a rather awkward pause before she coughed once to quell her nervousness. "A—and yours?" the other girl asked in a timid, skittish way.
"Madellaine." Madellaine swallowed down past the growing lump in her throat and allowed a nervous little chuckle to escape her lips. "W—well, I—I need to—to be going now. If you hurry, you should be able to find him up there before he has to ring for evening Mass, Esmeralda, I—I shan't keep you any longer than I already have," she stammered, though she cast one last look of longing towards the dark, damp stairwell behind her. It was a look that Esmeralda, in her inquisitive state, did not miss.
Quirking a thick dark brow the young blonde's way, she sensed a familiar look of longing in those bright pale blue orbs that she had seen in her own reflection a time or two in times past before she came to Paris.
Esmeralda bit the inside wall of her cheek and nodded, watching, feeling somewhat stupefied, as the young blonde sank into a low curtsy, bending the right knee and gathering the skirts of her dark blue velvet gown in both her hands before straightening her posture and walking away.
The young blonde servant of Judge Claude Frollo started to walk away when Esmeralda called out behind her and she halted her movement.
"Come up with me?" The dancer asked the hearth keep, a note of hope lingering in her tone. Madellaine's almond-shaped blue eyes went wide and round with shock as she slowly turned on the heels of her boots.
"E—excuse me?" she squeaked, suddenly feeling quite flustered and feigning ignorance, as though she had misheard the older woman, though as she bit the inside wall of her cheek and lifted her gaze to lock eyes with Esmeralda, she could tell the other woman was not fooled in the slightest.
Madellaine listened, captivated by the woman's voice that held a slight husky drawl to it, thinking that it sounded rather seductive, though, at the same time, she was rather clear and eloquent, for a wandering nomad.
"You are that boy's friend, yes?" Esmeralda questioned curiously, her large forest green eyes that resembled the moss on the bark of a tree flitting from the young blonde to the stairwell behind the younger girl's head. Sensing Madellaine's confusion, Esmeralda blushed and elaborated. "I—n—not that I was spying on the two of you or anything, but well, I could not help but notice that you escorted him into the cathedral. You held his arm as though you were familiar with the man, and I thought…."
But Esmeralda's voice cracked, faltering, and dipping slightly as her resolve faltered as she lost herself in the blonde woman's gaze, and she did not bother to complete her sentence. She could tell the girl did not like her.
When Madellaine narrowed her eyes in slight suspicion, Esmeralda let out a tired sigh and took a dark curl in her fingers to nervously twirl it.
"I may be a beggar on the streets, Madellaine, may I call you that, my friend?" Esmeralda asked, wincing as she noticed the blonde stiffen at the use of the term friend, though she heard herself breathe an audible sigh of relief as again the girl nodded, "but that does not mean that I am ignorant. People don't often notice someone like me outside, at least when I'm not up on the stage dancing and performing for money, but it suits me well, you see."
Madellaine knitted her eyebrows together in confusion and further narrowed her eyes at the slightly older woman, feeling suspicious of her intentions.
"And? I don't understand. What does this have to do with me?" she asked, wincing as she recognized her tone sounded cold and accusing. The young blonde let out an exasperated sigh and tried again.
As she sanguinely lifted her head to regard the dancer, Madellaine forced herself to meet Esmeralda's gaze, determined not to look away first.
The look of confusion must have been evident on her face, for Esmeralda parted her lips open slightly to speak, nervously twisting her fingers together.
"And," Esmeralda sighed, just a tinge of resignation and slight annoyance in her husky voice now, "I thought that perhaps, well, since the boy does not know me, that it would look better if, er…you were to come up there with me? Something tells me if I were to go up alone, given I had a hand in humiliating him today, accident though it was, he won't want to see me, but if you come, then maybe I have a chance," she said, biting her bottom lip in anticipation.
Madellaine's hand stayed by her ear as it had been in the midst of yet again tucking back a wisp of blonde hair back behind her ear where it belonged, and she huffed in annoyance, biting the inside wall of her cheek.
"N—no, I—I couldn't!" she exclaimed, trying, and failing to ignore the crestfallen look on Esmeralda's face as the older woman's face fell.
She put her hand over her mouth as she stifled her squeak of surprise as she swore she heard the large oak double doors of the main level of the sanctuary open, as a cold breeze from outside wafted inside.
Madellaine shivered, though not from the cold. Esmeralda stared.
Madellaine thought she caught the familiar sight of a thick-headed tuft of golden blond hair, the shocking yellow of which could rival that of the sun's rays itself.
The Sun God, she thought bitterly, and inwardly groaned.
She really did not want to deal with Phoebus and his antics right now, especially considering the fake engagement feast that was rumored to be waiting for them the moment she returned to the Palace of Justice.
Damnation. Madellaine swore internally and immediately chastised herself, having momentarily forgotten she was still inside a House of God. Madellaine flinched as she heard the soldier call her name.
"Ugh, why me?" Madellaine groaned in exasperation through gritted teeth, with Esmeralda looking like she did not know whether to question the blonde or to be concerned.
The young blonde nervously bit the wall of her cheek and ran her tongue along the top wall of her cheek, not even thinking as she felt her feet move of their own accord and take a few steps backward and up as she slipped into the darkness of the bell ringer's north tower stairwell, pressing her back against the cold cobblestone wall and hiding from the captain.
"Up here!" Madellaine whisper-hissed through gritted teeth, careful to keep her voice low so as to not attract any unwanted attention to them.
If Esmeralda was at all surprised by the oddity of her behavior, she made no remark, for which Madellaine was grateful, and she decided to follow the petite but strange blonde woman's example, copying her movements. She drew in a sharp breath of the cool air that pained her lungs.
"Now what?" Esmeralda whispered lowly the moment that gilded golden-haired soldier boy who she had caught staring during her dance, his hazel eyes crawling all over her backside like that of a blood-sucking leech passed them by, oblivious to the pair of young women hiding in the stairs.
But Madellaine silently pressed a finger to her lips, effectively signaling to the older woman to stay quiet, lest they be discovered here.
She made a motion with her index finger, pointing upwards.
Up, she silently mouthed to Esmeralda and gave a slight jerk of her head, motioning for the Romani woman to follow her as she grumbled darkly to herself. Esmeralda smiled as she caught something along the lines of, "…so many bloody stairs…" though the blonde offered no further quip.
"He won't follow us?" Esmeralda whispered, not bothering to tamper down the note of excitement that had seeped into her tone now.
"No," Madellaine responded in a shy, reserved voice barely audible, little more than a whisper that was almost carried away on the bitter Paris breeze that wafted its way up from the main sanctuary and to the tower. "He would be incredibly stupid and foolish to follow us all the way up here, and if Captain de Chateaupers has even an ounce of smarts, he'll stay down there if he knows what's good for him, that is. Something tells me he's the last person he wants to see right now," the blonde growled nervously.
Esmeralda nodded mutely, her legs moving at a brisk pace as she continued the grueling climb up the stone slabs to an unknown place.
He lives here? My god, but what a lonely existence it must be for this creature! I—I had no idea. If I had, I'd have never pulled him up on that stage if I had known who he was, Esmeralda thought incredulously, feeling her pupils dilate in the darkness and a crushing guilty weight on her shoulders.
Esmeralda winced.
I really AM a stupid woman. How could I not have known? Stupid! A pressure began to build behind her green irises and she swallowed down hard past the growing lump in her throat as it hollowed and constricted.
Esmeralda felt like her throat pounded relentlessly in its cage, threatening to break free, and the pair of women did not stop until they reached a small wooden mezzanine platform, near a closed wooden door. She outstretched a hand for the doorknob and was surprised when Judge Frollo's servant shot out an arm and caught her by the forearm.
Esmeralda froze, her hand on the knob, a look of alarm on her features as she slowly swiveled her head upward and to the left to look at Madellaine. Madellaine grimaced, a pained look in her pale blue orbs.
"Why are you here?" she asked, fixing Esmeralda with a pointed stare. "You did not have to come here, you know," Madellaine murmured.
Esmeralda's expression darkened only slightly. She coughed once to try to tamper down the lump in her throat and straightened her posture. For a moment, she was amused at their height difference and fought back the beginnings of a light-hearted smile as the corners of her mouth twitched.
The young blonde barely came up to her breast, though in her silent, seething fury, the little blonde lass was truly intimidating and not at all a force to be reckoned with, Esmeralda knew. She paused, thinking.
Well, of course, the girl would ask her that. Surely, Madellaine thought Esmeralda had come to further torment the poor boy, undoubtedly, but that could not have been further from the truth.
If Esmeralda were being honest with herself, she was not entirely sure why she had come to this holy place, other than to offer an apology to the boy she had humiliated.
Esmeralda knew she had wanted to see him again and make amends for her despicable behavior, but when she opened her mouth to speak, no other words came out, and she sensed Madellaine was growing annoyed.
Was it to ask the boy questions? No. No, that wasn't what he needed. Esmeralda thought for a moment, biting down on her tongue. She knew she wanted to help him, but in what way, she did not know how she could help, but Esmeralda knew she owed it to the boy to at least try if he would have her company in his home.
Esmeralda sighed. What she did know at the very least, was how she was tired of the way the Parisians treated people like that poor boy, and how they talked of him as if he were a demon, and it had taken the young lass in front of her to realize that if she did not apologize to this boy, to Quasi, then she would regret it for the rest of her natural days on God's given earth until she died.
Sensing Madellaine was still waiting for her answer, Esmeralda slowly inclined her hand, and nervously folded her hands in front of her middle.
"I'm not sure," she confessed, feeling her first genuine smile of the day creep onto her features as she noticed the young blonde's shocked expression. "Maybe…I'm just looking for a friend," Esmeralda confessed.
Madellaine blinked owlishly at her for one minute, two minutes, three. Esmeralda cringed as she watched the young blonde's posture stiffen and her jaws harden and lock up, her blue eyes flashing like that of steel.
She thought for a moment, perhaps the girl might not let her pass.
Madellaine knew without even having to look in a mirror or a shard of broken glass that she certainly looked shocked, though less so than she had expected to be.
After a long moment, a hesitant smile flitted across her features as she returned Esmeralda's smile and she stepped aside to make way for Esmeralda and allow her to open the door to the man's tower.
The young blonde hearth keep of Judge Frollo's lingered in the open doorway for a moment as the Romani woman entered first, and she did not bother to stifle her small smile at hearing Esmeralda's awed gasp of wonder and awe as she took in the simplistic but breathtaking beauty of the bell towers.
Madellaine was still smiling to herself as she crossed the threshold of the stairwell and into Notre Dame's bell ringer's living space, gingerly shutting the door behind her, and following Esmeralda deeper inside.
But not as her rival anymore. As her friend.