Disclaimer: Victor Hugo's Hunchback of Notre Dame or as it is otherwise known Notre Dame de Paris does not belong to me. If it did, I'd be much more successful and writing something other than fan fiction.

Author's Note: After seeing all the many interpretations of Gringoire, I fell in love with each one of them. So, obviously, I had to step in and ruin his life. This resulted in a very AU piece of fiction, and what's more, an exploration of another form of writing. It may be horrible, but it was fun.


Prologue

1482

The King of the Gypsies calls to her and she steps forth from the shadows to see yet another wanderer standing by the noose. He offers her the choice, as he had each time before.


Oh! what to do? What to do? The condemned looks to her for mercy, the King for judgement. My gift for words is an utter failure! At times such as this, her frozen heart is torn.


She hears him beg, sentences flowing gently from his mouth. She scowls, "Know this as you hang from the gibbet, sweet philosopher, the Gallow's birds are more merciful than I." She turns away.


He cries after her and she pauses, answering him silently, To take you, to spare you, only to cast you into eternal damnation; oh, wretched fool! She yells bitterly to him in thought, crimson eyes imploring, do not ask . . . do not!


He holds her gaze, understanding her unspoken words. Once more he tries, using but one word of his own. She spins to the King, "Untie him, Clopin!" Then, catching herself, she adds softly, "Leave him in my quarters, bound, of course."


It is carried out as she bid. Tentatively, she returns to her chambers to find him there. Without waiting for his thanks, she whispers menacingly, "Speak your meaningless words, monsieur, then mutter from those vile lips the one I care to hear." He says nothing in response and she continues, "Save yourself with knowledge, with cowardice. Look on in fear, you rotten poet!"


So saying, she reveals the malice in her eyes. At this he backs away and she sinks to the ground. "Ah, leave me be! My heart's not in the hunt. Take what you will; the cupboards hold an endless supply."


He glances fearfully at the treasure she speaks of, but she notices this. "Yes, blood money, that's what it is! Taken as I take them!" She rises and moves toward him, furious.


He scrambles past her and again the fight leaves her body. "Oh, run from me, soft soul. Your eyes are too kind, not fit to watch this miserable creature in her pain. Horror upon horror, you can't possibly know. Abandon me, or be destroyed!"


She tosses one of the large, coin-filled pouches at him. "Take my ill-gotten goods. Heaven knows I have no use for them. Make your friends the Truands, visit the Cathedrale Notre-Dame, but, by God!, stay with me not a moment more!"


Throwing open the door, she cries, "Let me alone to suffer in torment! Go!"


Without a backward glance, he flees the modest dwelling. Her eyes follow him down the street and out of sight. "Oh! what have I done?"


She steps out onto the darkened road, "My innocent love, return. Return to my guilty arms. Only I hold the key to your flight on Pegasus."


Quickly, she moves in his direction, calling out, "Come back, I mean no harm! Oh, pitiful Gringoire, don't fly away and leave me stranded!"


She pauses and waits, then, angered, enters her home and throws the candles to the curtains. "Damn your free spirit; I curse you! Have that eternal life of which you so dream! I give it to you, but feel its sorrows!"


She exits the building and stares off to the horizon, watching the sun rise as the rooms behind her burn. "Hate me then, I despise you," she whispers to the dawn. "Live on, master Pierre, live on in Godforsaken misery."