I would like to extend my thanks to my new fan TheElegantFarie for her support for this story. I may revise this chap a little latter though.
Rosa didn't know how long she sat there for. Maybe a few hours or so before she was jolted out of her self-pity by a loud clap of lightning.
She looked up at the ceiling high above and listened for the sound of the festival but only heard the low rumbling of thunder. No light came into Notre Dame from the great window far above. Rosa wondered if Minister Diable's men were still searching for her and if he had already sent word to her family about this.
Rosa looked away from the ceiling and pushed herself onto her hands and knees and stood, feeling just how stiff her body was from staying in one position for so long. Slowly she moved forward as she studied the stone walls around her, taking it all in and listening to the muttered prayers of those who prayed around her. She looked down at herself and studied the dark fabric of her costume and wondered if she was properly dressed to be here. Surely god didn't care about how you are dressed right?... At least that was what she believed.
She stopped before the statue of Mary and baby Jesus as she put her hands together and thought. She never knew what to pray about and she knew that other people prayed mostly for themselves or for their families. But her family didn't need anything they had enough… And she didn't want anything that she couldn't get on her own without troubling God for as long as she worked hard for it. Though in some ways she believed God still helped her in some small ways. She didn't want money, she didn't want glory. Then what should she ask for?... Nothing she guessed.
She then decided to think about the events that had taken place since she arrived in Parris to escape her…. A shudder ran up her spine at the thought that her care taker had been spot on about her reasons to coming here. She rubbed her figures together and listened to the muttering around her and watched the archdeacon move around the cathedral lighting candles that had gone out. She then studied the people who prayed and found that a number of them wore old frayed and faded cloths that showed how poor they were. Others seemed pale or a little sick. Then there were the ones dressed in nicer clothing showing their wealth. She turned back to the
Clopin was waiting for Pierre in the door way of Notre Dame impatiently as he carried a few leftover banners and drapes from the festival that had been left to be ruined in the rain. Clopin wouldn't pass up a chance for new fabric and he was sure the women back at the Court of Miracles would be grateful for them. Pierre's large form came lumbering up the steps with the last of the drapes in his arms and they stood there looking at the lighting that flashed overhead and the sheets of rain that was beginning to pour over the buildings and empty streets. After a moment Pierre looked at the Gypsy King and cleared his throat.
"It's raining a bit… If we try going home in this everything will be ruined and we would have nothing to bring back." He was right and Clopin had been thinking the same thing. "Should we… Go inside and wait it out?" Clopin didn't answer as he turned and looked at the great door before him… He loved Notre Dame but out of spite for 'God' he never went in… But he very well couldn't wait out here until the storm let up. And while they had been collecting everything they had spotted a number of guards who were still looking for the girl in the streets… The guards avoided the great cathedral because after the whole 'war against Notre Dame' fiasco it didn't look good when they got to close.
"We will wait it out…" He finally said and Pierre was more than happy to yank the doors open and enter. Clopin followed him in and found a corner somewhere away from the prayers. Pierre on the other hand followed Clopin and dropped his load next to the Gypsy King before wandering over to the Prayers and joining them… Clopin shook his head and snorted before closing his eyes. Why pray to someone who will never answer you?
Rosa had finally decided to pray just to talk to God. After all that was all she wanted right now. It was to talk. Stepping back a little she clasped her hands in front of her and knelt down along with the others.
We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
-
Clopin jumped a little when someone cleared his throat and he looked up to see the archdeacon standing over him with a slight frown at the Gypsy.
"Is there something troubling you?" He said and Clopin snorted at the question.
"I am a Gypsy in your cathedral and that is the only thing you think to say?" Clopin bitterly snapped. The archdeacon shook his head and waved his hand about indicating the walls and statue as he spoke.
"This place is not mine but our holy fathers… All his children are welcome here no matter who they are. After all this place is where they seek guidance and ask for his blessing and help." He said to the disgruntled Gypsy and Clopin shook his head.
"For a long time I have asked for help for my people and never once have my prayers been answered… Why should I believe in a God that never helps his children when they suffer at the hands of others?" Clopin threw the question at the archdeacon with venom but the old man didn't flinch away.
"I cannot truly answer that for you I am afraid… But maybe you can find the answer yourself somehow… After all our lord works in ways no one could hope to understand… But he does so for a reason…" The old man said as he finished lighting a candle and went to work on the other side of the cathedral. Clopin shook his head and leaned back against the wall and stared at the ceiling and listened to the silence.
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love is way too much to give us lesser things
He turnned his head slightly toward the prayers and listened to the words that were being spoken quietly but loud enough that he was a little surprised that no one else thought to tell the person singing to be quiet.
'Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
Clopin sat a little straight and leaned to the side to see if he could locate the person but a pillar was obstructing his view and he silently cursed it. He stood and looked over to the archdeacon, who had his back to him, before slowly and quietly walked towards the prayers. Pierre was the closest to hime because the larger man had chosen a spot behind everyone else. The larger Gypsy didn't seem to notice Clopin because he was to focused on his pray and Clopin felt a little jelouse in Pierre's unwavering faith.
We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt your goodness, we doubt your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe
Clopin kept walking forward, studying every person as he went. He could feel his chest tighten as the words continued to drift through the air as if answering his earlier question. She stopped when he was close to reaching the statue of Mary with the young Jessus and his heart felt like it dropped into his stomach when he saw the young Frollo girl kneeling before the statue. She still wore her costume and he could only assume that she had been hiding here since his cruel joke. Clopin could feel his eyes sting as her words stuck a nerve.
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy
What if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are your mercies in disguise
Rosa finished and silently thanked God for listening before standing and backing up a few step, not looking away from the statue until she backed into someone that was behind her. She turned around to say sorry but froze when she saw the brightly dressed story teller standing before her. He also seemed a little shocked but opened his mouth to say something. She felt her anger toward him mount and boil over and she did the first thing that came to her by instinct.
Clopin was taken in by her large green eyes and was fumbling with his words when the guilt from what he did to her rushed back. He opened his mouth to speak but didn't get the chance as her hand made contact with his face for the second time that day. But much much harder since not only did his head turn to the side but he stumbled backwards to keep his balance. Most of the people praying had stopped to see what had happened and Clopin inwardly cursed them. So they keep praying when someone is praying as loudly as she had been but when someone gets slapped they stop to watch. Shaking his head he turned to look at her but she wasn't standing there anymore and he quickly looked around to catch sight of her vanishing around a pillar and he quickly moved to follow her. He waved his hand at Pierre to signal for him to stay before vanishing behind the pillar himself.
Rosa had bolted up the first staircase she saw and tried hiding there in the stair well hoping that the story teller didn't come after her but was disappointed when she heard footsteps and saw his shadow on the wall. She turned to keep going up the stairs but felt a hand close around her wrist, keeping her from running away. She sucked in air to scream but he pushed her hand to her mouth to muffle it.
"No need for that Madmozel I do not mean you any harm… I am going to let you go now and we are going to talk like calmly and quietly…" He removed his hands from her and held them up as she gained another step higher so she was eye to eye with him. "I would like to give you my deepest apo-" He didn't finish as his face was stricken once more. Only this time he bit his tongue… Something told him this was going to be a long stay at Notre Dame…