13
MADELLAINE stirred, her body aching as she slowly drifted back to consciousness. The world felt distant and muffled, like she was trapped in a dream she couldn't fully wake from. Her head throbbed, and her throat felt raw, as though she'd been breathing smoke. She wasn't sure where she was, but it was warm and soft, a stark contrast to the nightmare she remembered.
"…Madellaine…asleep for hours… what if she doesn't wake up?"
The sound of her name, spoken so softly, stirred something inside her. Her eyelids fluttered, the weight of sleep still clinging to her. Who…who had called her? The voice was almost familiar, comforting, in a way. Slowly, her senses began to sharpen as she regained consciousness. She could hear more voices this time, low murmurs around her, and she quickly realized that she wasn't alone.
A sudden jolt of fear shot through her. Were they…the gargoyles? Quasimodo had told her stories about them—Victor, Hugo, and Laverne. The way Quasi spoke about them, with such fondness, made her wonder if they were well and truly, well….alive. She'd tried to catch them before, to see if they moved or spoke like she thought they could, but they were always still, just stone.
Could it be them now?
She shifted slightly, her muscles weak and protesting, but she kept her eyes closed for a moment longer, listening carefully.
"I'm telling you, she's waking up," a playful voice whispered, with a hint of mischief. That had to be Hugo, she was sure, based on Quasi's descriptions of his friends' personalities.
"Shh, give her a moment," came a more formal voice—Victor, she thought, always serious, always the storyteller in Quasimodo's tales of them.
"She's been through enough," a firm but kind voice added. That must be Laverne, the voice of reason, always looking out for Quasi.
Madellaine's heart pounded. It had to be them—the gargoyles. But she couldn't open her eyes just yet. What if they turned to stone the moment they noticed her awake? What if they vanished like they always seemed to do when she had visited the bell tower? She held her breath, willing herself to stay still, to listen just a little longer.
"Didn't I tell you, Victor, she was tougher than she looks," Hugo muttered. "I mean, she's gotta be, if she's with Quasi."
"Show some respect," Victor snapped. "She nearly—"
"I know, I know, Victor, you think I don't know that?" Hugo interrupted, but there was no denying the fondness in his tone. "I'm just saying, Quasi's girl here is tougher than she looks. It's a good thing."
Madellaine blushed at being called Quasi's girl, and she felt a faint smile tug at the corners of her lips. She could almost picture them now—Victor standing tall and serious, Hugo grinning mischievously, and Laverne watching over them all like a mother hen.
"Enough bickering, you two, you'll wake her," Laverne said, her voice gentle but firm. "Let her rest. Quasi will want to be here when she wakes up."
Madellaine's eyes fluttered open slowly, finally. Her body still felt heavy, and her head throbbed with a dull ache. The faint scent of smoke still lingered in the air, and her mind struggled to make sense of where she was. Everything still felt hazy, like she was trapped in a dream.
As her vision cleared, she realized she was lying on a soft bed of blankets. Above her, the wooden beams of the bell tower stretched high, the dim light of the candles that were scattered about the room casting long shadows throughout. Her heart pounded as she suddenly remembered.
The fire. The ropes that bound her, and Sarousch's cruel words echoed in her ears. He had left her there in the treasury to burn. She had thought she was going to die.
But then…Quasi. He had come for her.
Madellaine's breath caught in her throat as her gaze landed upon a figure—Quasimodo. He was slumped against the wall, his hand holding hers even in his sleep. He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his brows were furrowed in worry as he slept. He had saved her.
Despite everything, despite the danger, he had risked his life for her. Her heart swelled with love and affection for the bellringer now holding her hand until she thought it might burst.
But the voices…she couldn't help herself. She just had to know.
Letting out a soft groan, with great effort, she turned her head just enough to glance towards the shadows of the room where the voices seemed to be coming from. At first, all she could see were the familiar, unmoving stone forms of the gargoyles, just as they had always appeared. But now, even though they stood as still as statues, she could almost feel their presence—alive, protective, caring. They just had to be alive.
"Uh, guys? I, uh, think she knows we're here," Hugo whispered, his voice a playful hiss.
Victor sighed. "Nonsense. She's just woken up, and we shouldn't overwhelm her."
Madellaine's lips curved into a weak smile, despite the aches in her body. They were real. She could hardly believe it, but at that moment, she realized that they were. His stone friends, his guardians, his protectors—they were watching over her too, just like they were watching over him.
Madellaine knew she should be scared, but strangely, she wasn't. Maybe it was the warmth of the room, Quasimodo's presence beside her, or the fact that the voices didn't seem scary. They felt familiar and comforting, in a way.
Deep down, when she had listened to Quasimodo telling her stories of the gargoyles, she'd thought there was something special about them. How could they not be real when he talked about them with so much love? Still, she never expected to really hear them.
She should be afraid—statues coming to life, hearing voices from the shadows, and hearing other voices besides Quasi's in the bell tower—but all she felt was curious. A quiet sense of wonder. The gargoyles had been watching over her, caring for her in their own strange way. For all their teasing and bickering, they had stayed with her. How could she fear them?
"Uh, h-hello? Victor? Hugo? Laverne?" she whispered, her voice barely a breath, not wanting to wake Quasimodo. Her heart raced, but not from fear. It was relief—relief from finally knowing.
There was a collective small gasp, and then silence. They didn't expect her to call them by name.
"Good heavens! She knows us?" Victor's voice was stiff as if he couldn't believe it.
"Told you the damsel's smart," Hugo snickered softly.
"Hush, you two," Laverne muttered, but it wasn't harsh. "Let the poor girl talk."
Madellaine slowly looked toward the corner where the three stone gargoyles stood, as still as statues. Her eyes widened as she saw them move, just ever so slightly, but she forced herself to remain calm. "I…I always thought you were real. Even before Quasi told me about you. I just felt it."
There was silence again, and Madellaine wasn't sure if they would reply. But Hugo, as usual, couldn't stay quiet. "Well, look who's sharp! Quasi's got himself a keeper, doesn't he?"
"Shh, Hugo, you'll wake him!" Laverne scolded. "The poor boy hasn't slept well since…well, since everything. He must be exhausted."
Madellaine's heart ached with guilt as she glanced back to Quasimodo, still sleeping, holding her hand. He looked so tired, like he hadn't rested in days. She wanted to reach out and comfort him, but she was too weak.
But then the memory of the fire hit her like a wave, and her heart sped up. The ropes, the flames, the smoke, the treasury burning—she had been so close to death. Panic surged through her, and she tried to sit up, but her body protested.
"The—the fire," she gasped, her voice shaking as she looked around. "Is it…is it out? Did anyone get hurt? I-Is Quasi—" Her breath caught as she glanced at him, sleeping beside her, his hand still holding hers tightly. He looked so exhausted. "Is he alright?"
Laverne's voice was calm and reassuring. "No one was hurt, that we know of at least, and Quasi's fine. He's just tired from getting you out in time."
Madellaine's chest loosened a little, though her eyes filled with tears. Quasi had saved her. He had risked everything for her, once again. She squeezed his hand weakly, overwhelmed with gratitude and love.
"He…he saved me," she whispered, her voice shaky.
"Sweetie, he loves you," Laverne said softly as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "That boy has more heart than anyone."
Tears filled Madellaine's eyes. She didn't feel worthy of Quasi's love—not after everything she had done, after keeping secrets from him and the others. But here he was, and here were his stone friends, watching over both of them.
Madellaine stirred again, her vision clearing as she blinked away the haze of sleep. Slowly, her gaze traveled over the room, the soft glow of the candles casting warm light on the wooden beams above. She felt the weight of Quasimodo's hand still in hers, grounding her, but as she shifted slightly, something else caught her attention—a familiar shape curled up beside her.
"Oh, Boots…" Her heart clenched as she noticed the tiny mouse nestled close, his whiskers twitching as though he, too, was keeping watch. Confused, Madellaine looked back toward the gargoyles. "How… how did you get here, little guy?" Her voice trembled with emotion. "What…what happened? I-Is everyone safe?"
Laverne hopped forward first, her stone face soft with understanding. "He came to you as soon as Quasi and Esmeralda brought you here, dear. Boots—he's been watching over you ever since. It's like he knew something was wrong."
Hugo grinned, though there was a touch of tenderness in his voice. "Yeah! He's a brave little guy. Climbed right up beside you and hasn't budged."
Madellaine's chest tightened as tears welled in her eyes again. She reached out slowly, her trembling finger stroking the top of Boots's head as the little mouse slept. "I…I can't believe it," she whispered, her voice breaking. "He...he stayed with me."
Victor added gently, "He's part of the family now, just like we are. You're safe now, and so are they. You've all made it through the worst."
Madellaine nodded, overcome with emotion. She stroked Boots' fur softly, comforted by the presence of the tiny mouse by her side.
"Thank you," she whispered again as her gaze flicked between the gargoyles and her two unlikely protectors.
Victor spoke next, as serious as ever. "There's no need for thanks, my dear girl. We've always watched over him, ever since he was a little boy. Naturally, we'd do the same for someone he cares about."
Madellaine smiled, though she was still exhausted. She didn't understand how the magic worked that brought the gargoyles to life, but it didn't matter. She didn't care. What mattered was that they were here, and they had become part of her life too. A life she wanted to share with Quasimodo, no matter what happened next.
Her smile started to fade as the reality of everything she had been through sank in. She had nearly died in that fire—if Quasi hadn't saved her, she wouldn't be here. His friends, the gargoyles who had been quietly protecting them, watching over them, were real. It was all too much. She tried to blink the tears away, but they slipped down her cheeks anyway. Her body shook with quiet sobs, the exhaustion and emotion finally catching up to her.
"I—I'm sorry," she stammered, whispering to the gargoyles through her tears. "I—I don't mean to… to cry like this."
"Oh, sweetie," Laverne's voice softened immediately, maternal and warm. "You don't have to apologize for that. After everything you've been through? You're allowed to cry."
"Yes, Hugo cries all the time, my dear. It's no big deal," Victor added, the beginnings of a slight smirk tugging at the edges of his stone mouth as he attempted to lighten the mood, though his voice was filled with genuine concern.
"Hey! I do not cry all the time, Victor, take that back!" Hugo objected, puffing up his chest.
"Sure you don't, Hugo," Laverne teased, rolling her eyes, but her attention quickly returned to Madellaine. "But, dear, we're here for you. You've been through more than most people could bear."
Victor's deep voice added, "You are stronger than you think, Madellaine, my dear. It's only natural to feel overwhelmed after what you've faced. We know Sarousch was responsible for the fire—for everything that's happened, the thefts in town, all of it. We know you had no choice. And so does Quasimodo."
Madellaine wiped at her eyes with trembling fingers, trying to calm herself. It helped, knowing that they didn't mind her tears, that the gargoyles were there to help her, to support her in whatever way they could. She looked over at Quasimodo again, still asleep, his breathing steady and peaceful now. He had done so much for her. She didn't know how she'd ever be able to thank him properly.
Sniffling, she turned her gaze back to the gargoyles. "I…I've heard so much about you. Quasi's told me your stories, but… I'd like to know more. Can you tell me about yourselves?"
The room fell quiet for a moment as if the gargoyles were taken aback by her request. Then Hugo, always the first to break the silence, grinned. "Well, I thought you'd never ask! Finally, someone wants to hear about the real stars of the show!"
"Hugo," Victor muttered, but there was no real bite in his voice.
"Relax, Victor," Hugo replied, waving a stone hand dismissively. "She asked, didn't she?"
Laverne chuckled softly. "Alright, alright. Since you asked, we'd be happy to tell you, dear. Quasi always loved telling our tales, but I'm sure we can fill in a few details he might've left out."
Madellaine smiled weakly, wiping the last of her tears away as she settled in to listen. The warmth of the room and their comforting presence made her feel like she was finally safe.
"Well," Hugo started with a dramatic flair, puffing up his chest even more, "I'm Hugo, obviously the most charming and handsome of the bunch." He winked, and Madellaine couldn't help but chuckle through her exhaustion.
Victor sighed, but a small smile tugged at his stony lips. "I am Victor, mademoiselle, the voice of reason among these two…at least, most of the time."
"And I'm Laverne," Laverne said, her voice gentle. "I try to keep these two in line, but it's a losing battle most days."
Madellaine laughed softly again, the tightness and burning feeling in her lungs calming slightly with each passing moment. "It's—it's nice to meet you. Really meet you."
"It's nice to meet you too, dear," Laverne replied, her voice warm. "We've been keeping an eye on you for a while now."
"You're part of the family now," Hugo added with a grin. "So get used to us."
Madellaine's heart swelled at those words. Part of the family. Despite everything she had been through, despite her fears and insecurities, she was finally part of something special. Something real. And for the first time in a long time, she felt like she truly belonged. She sat up a little more, her curiosity now burning through the haze of her exhaustion.
She glanced nervously at Quasimodo, who was thankfully, still asleep. She didn't want to wake him if she could help it. She waited a moment before turning her attention back to the gargoyles.
"How long have you…been able to talk to Quasi?" she asked softly. "A-and how is it even possible?"
The gargoyles exchanged glances as if silently deciding who would speak first. Finally, Victor cleared his throat, straightening up before speaking.
"Well, my dear, it's been…quite a long time," Victor began. "Since Quasimodo was a small boy. Over twenty-six years ago, now that I think back on how much time has passed. We've been his companions, his guardians. We've watched over him his whole life."
"Basically since he was brought here as a baby," Hugo added with a grin, clearly proud of their long-standing relationship with Quasimodo. "We've been talking to him, guiding him, keeping him company ever since. He needed someone, you know?"
Madellaine's heart ached at the thought of a young, lonely Quasimodo, finding comfort only in these gargoyles, the way most children might turn to imaginary friends. But these weren't imaginary, were they? They were alive in their own way, and they had been there for him when no one else was.
"But…how?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder. "I mean, you're stone. I never thought…" She trailed off, struggling to put into words the sheer magic of it all.
Laverne smiled gently. "You're not the first to wonder, dear. And, well, the truth is, we don't know how it works ourselves. We're just…here. And for as long as we can remember, we've been able to speak with Quasi. No one else, mind you. Just him."
Madellaine's eyes widened. "Only him?"
Victor nodded solemnly. "Yes. For reasons we don't entirely understand, we've only ever been able to communicate with him. Until now, it seems."
"That's right," Laverne added with a knowing smile. "You're the first other person we've ever spoken to, outside of Quasi."
Madellaine felt a strange mix of emotions—honored, humbled, and a bit awestruck. "Why me?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Why can I hear you now?"
Hugo scratched his stone chin, his usual lighthearted tone replaced with something more thoughtful. "Maybe it's because Quasi loves you. You're important to him, and maybe that's all it takes. We're connected to him, so maybe that connection extends to the people he cares about."
"That's as good a theory as any," Victor said with a shrug. "Magic often works in mysterious ways."
Laverne looked at Madellaine with kind eyes. "Whatever the reason, it means you're part of Quasi's world now. Truly part of it. And that's something special."
Madellaine's chest swelled with emotion again. She had always felt a little like an outsider, even in Quasimodo's life, as though she were stepping into something fragile and hidden. But now, knowing that the gargoyles could speak to her, knowing they had accepted her, she felt truly connected to Quasimodo in a way she never had before.
"I…I don't know what to say," she whispered, overwhelmed. "Thank you. For being there for him. For being here for me."
Hugo waved a hand as if to brush off her gratitude, though there was a warmth in his voice. "Eh, don't get too mushy on us now. We're just doing what we do."
Victor smiled. "But you're welcome, Madellaine. Quasimodo is lucky to have you."
Madellaine looked down at Quasi, her hand still resting in his, and felt a surge of love and protectiveness for him. He had been through so much, but he had these friends—these guardians—who had watched over him all his life. And now, somehow, they were watching over her too.
"How do you do it?" she asked after a moment. "Being stone and alive at the same time?"
Victor's brow furrowed slightly, and Laverne gave a soft chuckle. "If we had the answer to that, we'd probably be a lot smarter than we are," she said.
"Yeah, it's kind of a mystery," Hugo admitted with a shrug. "One minute we're statues, next minute we're cracking jokes and saving the day. We just roll with it."
"It's simply the way things are," Victor added more formally. "We exist to protect. We may be stone, but we're also more than that. Call it magic, fate, or something beyond our understanding, but we have always been here for Quasimodo, and now, for you as well."
Madellaine nodded slowly, still trying to wrap her mind around it all. The magic of Notre Dame had felt powerful from the moment she first stepped foot inside, almost like it had its own heartbeat, its own soul. Maybe the gargoyles were a part of that magic, living extensions of the cathedral itself, created to protect those who needed it most.
"Thank you," she whispered again, this time letting the words carry the full weight of her gratitude.
Laverne smiled softly. "We're all in this together now. And with you by his side, Quasimodo has never been stronger."
Madellaine felt a sense of peace settle over her as the gargoyles' words sank in. She wasn't alone, and neither was Quasi. They had each other, and they had the strange, magical family that surrounded them.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Madellaine allowed herself to believe that everything might just turn out alright.
As Madellaine lay there, nestled underneath the bed of warm blankets, still holding Quasimodo's hand while he slept, surrounded by the gargoyles, she felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Everything had changed but in the best way possible.
The magic of the cathedral, the bond she had with Quasi, and the acceptance of these strange, wonderful stone guardians—all of it made her feel like she had truly found a home, a place where she finally belonged. Her body ached, and her lungs still burned from the smoke, but there was no denying the surge of hope she felt in her heart. She was safe. Quasimodo was safe. The world outside might still be filled with danger and uncertainty, but here, in this sacred space, she could find peace.
She looked over at Quasimodo again, her heart swelling with affection as she brushed her thumb across the back of his hand. He had risked his life for her, more than once now. And somehow, despite everything that had happened, he was still by her side, still holding on to her like she was the most precious thing in the world.
"I'll never leave you," she whispered, more a promise to herself than anything. She would never let fear drive her away again. Quasimodo deserved love, and she would give it to him with every fiber of her being. She turned back to the gargoyles, still amazed by the way they had accepted her so easily into their world. "Do…do you think…" she began hesitantly, her voice uncertain, "do you think he knows how much he means to me? I….I don't think I've ever been able to…to say it properly."
Laverne gave her a warm, knowing smile. "Oh, sweetie, I think he knows. Believe me, he knows. That boy feels everything deeply. You don't need to say it for him to understand."
"But, you know, saying it wouldn't hurt," Hugo added with a wink. "You know, just to seal the deal."
Madellaine chuckled softly, the sound easing some of the weight in her chest. "I will." She took a deep breath, her heart steadying. She was no longer just a spectator in Quasimodo's world. She was part of it, part of him now, and she would face whatever came next by his side.
Suddenly, she felt Quasimodo stir beside her, his hand shifting in hers as if sensing she was awake. His eyelids fluttered, and Madellaine held her breath, watching him with anticipation. Slowly, his eyes opened, bleary and unfocused at first, but when they landed on her, his entire face softened with disbelief and relief.
"M-Madellaine?" he croaked, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion. He blinked rapidly, tears welling in his eyes as he leaned forward, as if afraid that she might vanish if he moved too fast. "Y-you're awake…You're really awake." His hand tightened around hers as a tear slipped down his cheek, and he lowered his head, overcome with emotion. "I thought… I thought I'd lost you."
Madellaine's own eyes teared up, her heart aching at the sight of him. She squeezed his hand back, trying to offer some comfort, but it felt like the words she wanted to say were stuck in her throat.
"I'm here, Quasi," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm here because of you. I'm right here. I'm not anywhere else."
Quasimodo's body shuddered with quiet sobs, and he bowed his head closer, his forehead nearly touching the edge of the bed. "I…I was so scared," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I thought I was too late."
Madellaine's heart broke for him, and she reached out, resting her other hand on his head, stroking his unruly red hair gently. "You weren't," she reassured him softly, tears spilling over. "You saved me, Quasimodo."
He lifted his head then, his eyes red with tears. "I—I don't deserve—"
Suddenly, a voice interrupted the tender moment, causing Quasimodo to jerk upright in alarm.
"Finally! Welcome back to the land of the living, kid! I was starting to think you'd never wake up, Quasi!" Hugo's voice rang out, loud and mischievous, from his spot in the corner of the room.
Quasimodo nearly leaped out of his skin, his hand slipping from Madellaine's as he scrambled to look toward the corner where the gargoyles were observing them. His face flushed a bright cherry red as he stammered, flustered, and caught off guard. "M-Madellaine, I-I-I—uh, you see, I—um—I don't—I never—"
Victor crossed his arms, looking unimpressed. "Really, Hugo? Must you always be so loud at inappropriate moments?"
"What? I'm just saying, Victor, it was getting a bit tense in here," Hugo replied with a grin, his wings fluttering as he stretched. "Figured someone had to break the ice."
"I-I didn't—" Quasimodo began, but Madellaine couldn't help the soft giggle that escaped her, cutting off his awkward attempt at an excuse. He turned toward her, wide-eyed, clearly mortified.
"Quasi, it's okay," she said, her voice still light with laughter. "I've already met your friends."
Quasimodo blinked, his mouth hanging open in shock. "You…you have?"
Madellaine smiled warmly, nodding. "Really met them. They've been keeping me company while you were sleeping."
Quasimodo's eyes darted toward the gargoyles and back to Madellaine, his face a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "B-but…h-how? I-I mean—they don't usually…"
"Hey, what did we tell you, Quasi? If she was meant to be in your life, kid, she'd meet the real us eventually. She's special, big guy," Hugo said, winking. "Guess tonight we just couldn't resist making a new friend."
Victor sighed, frustrated. "Must you make everything sound so casual, Hugo?"
Laverne stepped forward, her expression soft as she addressed Quasimodo. "She's part of the family now, dear. We couldn't keep quiet forever, not when she's so important to you."
Quasimodo's cheeks flushed again, his heart clearly overwhelmed with emotion. He glanced back at Madellaine, his voice almost a whisper. "You…you're really okay with them?"
Madellaine smiled, her heart swelling with affection. "More than okay. They've been looking out for both of us. Just like you do."
Quasimodo's face softened, his eyes glistening with emotion once more. He looked at his friends, then back at her, and for the first time, Madellaine saw the full extent of his love—for her, the life they shared, and the strange, magical family that surrounded them.
"I…I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispered.
"You'll never have to find out," Madellaine replied gently, her hand finding his again. "I'm not going anywhere. Not ever."
Quasimodo nodded, a tear sliding down his cheek, and he squeezed her hand tightly as if to anchor himself in this moment. And in that quiet, warm space, surrounded by the gargoyles who had protected them both, they found peace—together.
But as Madellaine sat there, wrapped in Quasimodo's arms, the guilt she had been carrying weighed her down like a heavy stone in her chest. She couldn't hold back any longer. She needed to say it.
Her throat tightened, tears welling up again, but this time, they were from guilt. Her hands shook in his as she pulled back slightly, wiping at her eyes.
"Quasi, I…" she started, her voice breaking. His concerned gaze fell on her, brow furrowing. "I—I'm so sorry. I should've told you about Sarousch sooner."
He blinked, his eyes wide with surprise. "Madellaine…"
Tears spilled over, and she shook her head, her breath hitching as she tried to continue. "I kept everything from you. I thought I could stop him before it got this far, but I was wrong. I was so wrong. I should've trusted you."
Quasimodo's eyes softened, and he gently brushed a tear from her cheek. "Madellaine, it's okay—"
"No, it's not!" she cried, her voice cracking. "I lied to you. I hurt you. I didn't trust you with the truth, and because of that… you almost—" Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands, sobbing. "You almost got hurt because of me."
Without a word, Quasimodo pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her as she cried against his chest. His voice was soft, full of love and reassurance as he murmured, "Please, don't cry. You were trying to protect everyone, and I understand why you didn't tell me."
Madellaine shook her head, her words barely a whisper through her sobs. "But I should've trusted you, Quasimodo."
He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his expression gentle but firm. "We both made mistakes. I should've listened to you when you tried to warn me about Sarousch. I'm the one who's sorry."
Her breath hitched as she wiped at her face. "But I was so scared, Quasi. I was scared you'd hate me. And I never… I never wanted to hurt you."
The words hung in the air between them, and Quasimodo's eyes widened in shock. He blinked, taken aback by the depth of her confession. His hand shook slightly as he reached out, brushing another tear from her cheek.
Madellaine rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. As the warmth and safety of his presence settled over her, a sudden realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.
She had never answered him.
Quasimodo had asked her to court him, and in the whirlwind of events, her response had never been given. Her heart sped up at the memory of his nervous, hopeful eyes.
She swallowed hard, her stomach fluttering with nerves. Turning slightly, she looked up at him. Quasimodo noticed her movement and glanced down, his expression soft and filled with emotion.
"Quasi," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I… I just realized I never answered your question."
His brow furrowed in confusion. "My… question?"
Madellaine's heart raced as she bit her lip, mustering the courage to continue. "When you asked me to court you," she said softly, her gaze falling to their joined hands. "I never gave you an answer."
Quasimodo's breath caught in his throat, and his grip tightened ever so slightly. His voice, tentative and filled with hope, barely broke the silence. "Oh… I-I thought, after everything, maybe you didn't—"
"Yes," she interrupted, her heart pounding. "I mean… yes. I want to court you, Quasi. I'd love to."
His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he just stared at her, stunned. The disbelief was clear in his expression, and his mouth opened as if he struggled to find the right words. Then, a slow, soft smile spread across Quasimodo's face, and she could see the joy and relief in his eyes. Gently, as though afraid she might disappear, his hand cupped her cheek. The tenderness of his touch made her breath hitch as his thumb brushed over her skin, and the space between them seemed to shrink, drawing them closer.
Madellaine's heart was pounding as she sat next to Quasimodo, her emotions all tangled up inside. She had never felt so vulnerable, so open. They had just told each other how they felt, and now, something new and unfamiliar and exciting was happening between them.
But it made her nervous. Her palms felt clammy, and her stomach fluttered with butterflies. She had never kissed anyone before, and she knew, from the shy way Quasimodo was looking at her, that he hadn't either.
What if she didn't do it right? What if neither of them did? She swallowed hard, trying to calm down as the space between them grew smaller. Quasimodo's eyes kept flicking from her lips to her eyes, and she could tell he was just as nervous as she was.
She felt her heart squeeze with affection for him. This was new for both of them, and the idea of sharing their first kiss made her feel a little braver, though the fear was still there.
Taking a deep breath, Madellaine started to lean in, her heart beating faster and faster. Her mouth was dry, and her face felt hot, but she knew this was something she wanted. She could feel Quasimodo's breath, warm and soft, so close to her lips now.
The moment felt so special, so perfect. She closed her eyes and moved in even closer, her lips almost touching his—
Suddenly, a loud shout echoed through the bell tower, making her jump back in surprise.
"Quasi?! Quasi, are you up here? It's Phoebus!"
Madellaine jolted back, her heart racing as she whipped her head toward the entrance to the bell tower. Phoebus. His voice was loud and urgent, echoing up the stone walls. Her pulse was already thumping from how close she had been to kissing Quasimodo, but now it was for a whole different reason.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she quickly saw Victor, Hugo, and Laverne become lifeless stone statues once more, hidden in the shadows of the room. She glanced nervously at Quasimodo, whose face had turned bright red. His eyes widened in surprise, clearly flustered by what had almost happened between them and by the interruption. He shot her an apologetic look before standing quickly.
"I—I'll be right back," he stammered, looking embarrassed, as though he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.
Before she could respond, Phoebus appeared at the entrance, panting as though he had just run up the cathedral. His face was tense, his brow furrowed, but as soon as his eyes landed on her, relief flooded his features.
"Thank goodness," Phoebus breathed, stepping into the room. "You're awake." He moved quickly toward them, his expression shifting from urgency to concern as he crouched down beside her. "Are you alright, Madellaine? How do you feel?"
Madellaine tried to sit up a little more, though her body still felt heavy, and everything ached. She was still exhausted from everything that had happened. "I—I'm alright," she said, though her voice was weak. "Just…tired."
Quasimodo stood awkwardly beside her, clearly unsure of what to do now that Phoebus was here. She could see him fidgeting nervously like he didn't know where to put his hands, and her heart ached. Things had been so peaceful just moments ago, and now everything felt rushed again.
Phoebus's eyes softened as he glanced between them. "We were able to put out the fire downstairs," he answered, answering the question she hadn't even asked yet. "There's some damage, especially to the treasury, and a little bit outside the room, but it'll be repaired. It'll take time, but it can be fixed."
A wave of relief washed over Madellaine, though the thought of the damage made tears well in her eyes and her chest tightened. Notre Dame was more than just a building—it was holy ground, a place full of history, full of life. Sarousch had nearly destroyed all of that.
Phoebus straightened, his expression darkening as he turned his attention back to Madellaine. "My men are scouring the city as we speak. Sarousch won't get away with this. We'll find him, and he'll answer for what he's done."
At the mention of his name, something inside Madellaine stirred. A sharp determination, stronger than the exhaustion, pushed her to sit up straighter.
"No," Madellaine said, her voice surprisingly firm. "You—you won't find him, Phoebus. He's too clever." Both Phoebus and Quasimodo stared at her, their expressions shocked by the sudden sharpness and anger in her voice. But she couldn't hold back anymore. She knew Sarousch better than anyone. She had spent years working with him, and she knew exactly how he thought.
"I—I intend to keep my promise to you, Phoebus, I can help," Madellaine continued, her voice shaky but her words steady. "I know how he works. Sarousch has made a living from illusion, but I can outthink him. It's the same as the disappearing elephant trick. There—there was always a tunnel underneath the stage. I know where he'll go."
Quasimodo's eyes widened in worry, and he immediately shook his head. "Madellaine, no, you—you can't. You're too weak. You need to stay here and rest. You'll be safe up here."
Madellaine met his gaze, her heart pounding. She knew he was just trying to protect her, but she couldn't stand by and do nothing. "Quasi," she murmured softly but firmly, "I have to do this. I'm the only one who can help find him, who knows where to look? I have to help."
Phoebus, still standing by the entrance, glanced between them. His brow furrowed in thought, and he crossed his arms thoughtfully. "She might be right, Quasi," he said carefully. "If she knows Sarousch better than anyone, she could give us the advantage we need. Together, we might be able to catch him."
Quasimodo, his face full of worry and frustration, shook his head again, this time more urgently. "But she's not strong enough yet, Phoebus. She was nearly killed tonight in the fire. She— She needs time to heal."
Madellaine could feel the tension building between them, but she couldn't back down now. She couldn't let Sarousch slip away again. "I'll rest later, I—I promise," she said, trying to sound stronger than she felt. "But right now, Sarousch is out there, planning his next move. If we don't stop him, more people will get hurt, and he'll get away. We can't let him."
Quasimodo's eyes softened, the conflict in them clear. He didn't want her to risk anything, but he knew deep down that she was right. She could see it in the way his jaw clenched, the way his hand flexed at his side.
"Please, Quasimodo," Madellaine whispered, reaching out to gingerly touch his hand. "I can do this."
He looked down at her hand on his, the worry still heavy in his eyes. But after what felt like an eternity, he sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "I know you can," he said softly. "But I'm coming with you."
She nodded, relief flooding through her. "Thank you, Quasi."
Phoebus nodded, already shifting into action. "Alright. Let's gather what we know and start moving. Madellaine, if you're up for it, tell us everything about Sarousch. We'll figure out a plan."
Madellaine nodded again, but as she moved to stand, her legs trembled beneath her. Quasi was by her side in an instant, his strong hands steadying her. His touch was warm, and grounding, and she clung to him for a moment, trying to steady her breath. She couldn't show how weak she felt—not now.
Madellaine watched as Quasimodo shifted uneasily beside her. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, his brow furrowed in a way that made her heart ache. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice quieter than usual.
"Esmeralda said she's going to ask Clopin for help," Quasimodo said, his tone uncertain. "She thinks he can help us find Sarousch."
Madellaine noticed Phoebus's reaction instantly. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, and a small frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. He crossed his arms, considering the idea. "Clopin?" he asked, his voice cautious. "Esmeralda's talking to Clopin about this?"
Quasimodo nodded, though Madellaine could see the tension in his face, the way his jaw tightened just at the name. "She thinks he'll know how to spread the word. Keep Sarousch from slipping away."
For a moment, Phoebus was silent, his eyes narrowing as he processed the thought. Madellaine held her breath, unsure what to expect. She knew of Clopin, of course—everyone did. But she also knew how much history he and Quasimodo shared, and it wasn't good.
Phoebus let out a slow breath, shaking his head slightly. "Clopin's got connections, sure," he said carefully. "He probably knows more about the streets of Paris than anyone. But after everything he did to you..." He trailed off, looking at Quasimodo with concern. "I can understand why this doesn't sit right with you."
Quasimodo's expression darkened, and Madellaine could feel the weight of his memories pressing down on him. "He tried to hang me, Phoebus," Quasimodo said quietly, his voice tight. "Both of us. Just for trying to help Esmeralda."
Phoebus nodded, his gaze softening as he glanced between them. "I haven't forgotten, Quasi. What Clopin did back then wasn't right, but…" He paused, glancing at Madellaine as if searching for the right words. "If he can help us stop Sarousch before more people get hurt, maybe we should give him a chance this time."
Madellaine's heart raced as she listened to them talk. She understood Quasimodo's anger and his hesitation. But there wasn't time to dwell on the past. Sarousch was still out there, planning who knew what, and she couldn't stand the thought of him hurting more people.
"Quasi," she said softly, stepping closer to him. "If Clopin's people can keep Sarousch from hiding, we should let them help. We can't let him disappear again."
Quasimodo glanced down at her, his face full of conflict. Madellaine could see how much this was hurting him—the thought of working with someone who had once treated him so cruelly. But he knew, just as she did, that they couldn't do this alone.
Phoebus, seeing the hesitation in Quasimodo's eyes, stepped forward, his tone more gentle than before. "Look, we'll keep an eye on Clopin. I won't let him hurt you, Quasi. But right now, Sarousch is the real danger. We need all the help we can get."
Madellaine could feel the tension in the air as Quasimodo remained quiet, clearly weighing his options. After a long pause, he finally nodded, though his expression was still tight with uncertainty.
"Alright," he said softly. "But I'm not trusting Clopin until I see him do the right thing."
Phoebus gave him a small, understanding smile. "That's fair. We'll make sure he earns it."
Relief washed over Madellaine, though she could still sense the worry lingering between them. They didn't have much time, but at least now, they had a plan. Sarousch wasn't going to get away this time.
"We have to find him before he disappears," Madellaine said, her voice more urgent than before. "He'll probably try to go underground. He knows the tunnels beneath the city better than anyone. He told me this when the circus was on its way here. He'll probably use them to hide from the guards."
Quasi froze, the color draining from his face. "The catacombs. He could be using the catacombs, Phoebus. If he knows the hidden passages, he could be anywhere down there."
As Madellaine glanced around the room, her eyes fell on something familiar—Quasi's thick blue cloak, folded neatly in the corner. It was old and worn, but it looked warm. Without thinking, she walked toward it and picked it up, the fabric soft in her hands. It smelled like him—comforting, safe.
Suddenly, she felt self-conscious. Her cheeks burned, and she turned to face him, her voice faltering slightly. "Um…Quasi?" she stammered, tugging at the edge of the cloak. "Would it…would it be alright if I wore this? I don't…I don't have a cloak of my own, and…well, if I'm coming with you, I'll need something."
Quasimodo's face softened immediately, his worry giving way to a gentle smile. "Of course, Madellaine," he said quietly, stepping toward her. "You can wear it. I—I'd like that."
Her heart fluttered at his words, and Madellaine felt her cheeks grow even warmer. She pulled the cloak around her shoulders, the fabric wrapping her in warmth. It felt heavy and comforting, like a protective shield.
"Thank you, Quasi," she mumbled, looking down at the floor, feeling shy under his gaze. "I—I just…didn't want to go out there unprepared."
Quasimodo's smile widened, and he touched her arm gently. "It—it suits you, Madellaine."
Her heart skipped a beat, and for just a moment, the weight of everything that had happened—the fire, the danger, all of it—seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of them. But then Phoebus cleared his throat, bringing them back to the reality of the situation.
"We should move quickly," Phoebus said, his tone firm. "Sarousch won't wait for us to catch up."
Madellaine nodded, pulling Quasi's cloak tighter around him. "O-of course. You're right, Phoebus. We can't waste any time."
As they prepared to leave the bell tower, Madellaine glanced around, noticing Boots curled up on a ball near the pillow she'd been using. Her heart squeezed with affection for the tiny mouse. He had been with her through so much, and the thought of leaving Boots behind made her hesitate. Kneeling carefully, she gently stroked his soft fur, whispering, "Hey, little guy. I—I need you to stay here for a bit, okay? I'll be back soon, but I can't take you with me this time, Boots."
Boots blinked sleepily, his whiskers twitching as he stirred. His tiny eyes looked up at her as if he could sense the urgency in her voice. Madellaine smiled softly, giving Boots one last affectionate pat before standing up.
As she moved to follow Quasimodo and Phoebus to the exit, something caught her eye. In the corner of the room, in the shadows, standing as still as statues were the gargoyles. Their expressions were silent, watchful, and she now knew why—they couldn't reveal themselves with Phoebus here.
Laverne's eyes met hers, and Madellaine felt a sense of comfort in that unspoken connection. Though at the moment, she couldn't speak, Madellaine knew she was offering her reassurance, watching over them as she and the others always did.
Madellaine's gaze flicked down to Boots, then back to Laverne, and she discreetly gestured toward the little mouse, silently asking if they could watch over him while she and Quasi were gone.
Laverne gave her the slightest nod, her stone face calm and steady. She knew Boots would be safe with them.
Taking a deep breath, she turned back toward Quasimodo and Phoebus, feeling the weight of the daunting task ahead but reassured by the presence of her strange, new, wonderful protectors. She was lucky to have finally met Quasi's friends.
As they stepped out of the bell tower and into the night, the cold air hit her, sharp and sudden, but oddly refreshing. Lanterns flickered in the distance, casting long shadows across the courtyard and the town square. The city was quiet, holding its breath, waiting for what was to come.
Quasimodo walked beside her, his presence a steady comfort. Madellaine glanced up at him, catching the soft, worried look in his eyes. He gave her a small smile, trying to be reassuring, though she could still sense his concern and fear for her.
Without thinking, she reached out and took his hand. His fingers curled gently around hers, warm and strong.
In that moment, she knew they could face whatever lay ahead—together.