PROLOGUE…

"You have a decision to make, Esmerelda."

"You already know my answer. Just kill me."

He turned to her, smiling now. "Oh no," he chuckled, "that isn't the decision at all. I won't have you killed if you refuse me. I'll have them killed."

She swallowed, shaking her head. "No. I don't believe you – "

He turned to the door. "Bring her in," he called. The door swung open and several guards entered, dragging a struggling, squirming form in with them. It was a girl; she couldn't have been more than thirteen. She fought like a wildcat, thrashing and scratching at the guards, screaming as loud as she could. Frollo watched, a bemused smile playing on his lips. "Do what you like with her, then cut her throat."

"No!" Esmerelda lunged, grabbing at the guards. Frollo seized her arm, holding her back. His grip was surprisingly strong for that of an old man; his fingernails dug painfully into her arm. One of the guards was tearing at the girl's blouse, laughing as she continued to scream. "Make them stop!" Esmerelda turned to Frollo now, realizing that now she had no choice.

"Say it."

"I choose you." She had to shout to be heard. "I choose you, now make them stop!"

Frollo stepped forward immediately, releasing Esmerelda's arm as he did so. She felt her knees buckle and allowed her body to sink to the floor. She watched as Frollo ordered the guards to release the girl, chastising them. It was almost funny to hear him call them 'filthy, lustful pigs,' especially when he himself was no better. In fact, he was worse. Esmerelda watched as the sobbing girl was led away. Frollo turned to her, marching towards her and grabbing her arm, pulling her to her feet. "Your friends will all be released within the hour," he said. "You may watch if you like, my dear."

~xXx~

They had taken the girl less than an hour ago. Clopin could feel the anger and outrage burning in the air around him, and he felt a strong urge to pace back and forth. There was no room; the cell was packed. He shifted his weight. He stared at the dungeon doors, willing them to open. He could hear the girl's parents; the mother's incessant wailing was agonizing. Why had they taken her? What could they want with her? She was only a child, for heaven's sake.

The doors swung open and a surly-looking guard entered. He was dragging the girl behind him. Her blouse had been torn open, and she was covering herself with her hands. She was sobbing. It was clear what had happened to her, and the room erupted, the air filling with angry shouts. Clopin could barely hear himself above the yelling.

"Pervert!" a woman in the next cell screamed, "filthy perverts, all of you!"

"She's a child, how could you?"

"I swear on all that's holy, I'll kill you all for this!"

The guard fumbled with his key ring before opening the cell and shoving the girl inside. Clopin took her in his arms, pulling her away from the slamming door. He glared at the guard, memorizing the man's face. If he ever got out of this cell, he'd castrate the man, then he'd give him to the girl's father.

The girl was shivering and sobbing, her face buried in his shoulder. He took his coat off, wrapping it around her. The others in the cell were crowding around, bombarding the girl with questions and sympathies. Clopin waved them away, pulling the girl into a corner. "You're safe now," he said, "you're completely safe now." He stroked the girl's hair. "What's your name, little one?"

"Cassandra." The girl's response was muffled, and she lifted her face off of his shoulder to repeat herself.

Clopin nodded. "We're going to get out of here," he said, "and we're going to find the men who hurt you and make them pay."

She shook her head. "They didn't," she said. "I mean, they didn't actually…ravish me." He stared at her, puzzled. "They were going to, but then…" the girl sighed, "it's all my fault. Esmerelda has to marry that horrid old man, and it's all my fault!" She started to cry again.

Clopin turned to the man beside him. "Get word to the girl's parents that she wasn't raped," he whispered. "Make sure they know she's all right." He turned back to the girl. "Cassandra, little one, what do you mean?"

"They brought me to a room and they started…they were pulling my clothes, and Esmerelda was there…and she told Frollo to make them stop, but…they wouldn't stop unless she agreed to marry him, and so she did…"

Clopin was still struggling to digest the information when the doors swung open again. Frollo entered this time, Esmerelda in tow. She was wearing a white dress, and her thick black hair was completely hidden by a white scarf. It was like some perverse wedding dress. She stared at the ground, her small hands clasped in front of her. People were calling to her, some of them reaching for her, but she ignored them all.

"You are all going to be released," bellowed Frollo, "your darling Esmerelda has seen to it."

The room erupted again. Frollo raised his hands for silence and was ultimately ignored. He continued to shout, saying something about people being released in groups rather than all at once, but Clopin couldn't bring himself to pay attention. All he could do was watch Esmerelda and know that Frollo had won. In the end, Frollo had won.

~xXx~

The dungeon was spinning. It was like being trapped in a dream. Esmerelda found she couldn't move for fear of fainting. She forced herself to think about Phoebus, to take comfort that at least she'd been able to make love to him before this. She would probably never seem him again. She replayed her moments with him, trying desperately to hang onto the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand, his scent. She felt Frollo take her by the hand and lead her away. She followed, moving slowly so as not to topple.

She was willing to burn at the stake, to cause her own death, before marrying this monster. She couldn't let others suffer or die because of her. The girl – the poor little girl who the guards had attempted to rape – she was only the beginning. If Esmerelda refused Frollo, there would be others. Other girls and women raped and killed, men tortured. She couldn't bear to be responsible for that.

~xXx~

The guards came and released them. It was a slow process; each cell would be opened and emptied, the guards forcing each individual to leave the dungeon. People attempted to gather in the courtyards to wait for loved ones, but there were guards waiting for them there as well, threatening and menacing. People began to trickle back to the Court of Miracles waiting for friends and family to arrive.

Her cell was opened last. Clopin refused to let go of her, and the other men in the cell surrounded her, forming a thick protective knot. She wanted to find her parents; they had probably gone back to the Court along with all the others. She was still wearing Clopin's coat; there was a puppet in one of the pockets. She had simply plunged her hand in and found it, and now she clutched it as tightly as she could. She was ushered past the guards who'd attacked her. She refused to look at their sneering faces.

She was quite sure that Clopin and the other men would take care of them. She'd overheard two men whispering about what they would do to the guards – words like 'castrate' and 'disembowel' had come up.

She didn't remember making her way back to the Court, only that Clopin had his arm around her the entire time. She felt somewhat safer with him there. She'd seen him before, of course, knew who he was, but had never been so close to him. She'd never realized just how tall and thin he was until now.

They were all surprised upon returning to the Court. Everyone had been expecting it to be ransacked; caravans and shacks burning, livestock dead. The Court was just as they had left it. It was eerie, returning like this. Cassandra looked around, expecting to see flames and chaos. Instead, the Court was filled with a spooky sort of calm that permeated everything and made everyone uncomfortable.

"Cassandra! Cassandra!" she heard her parents calling and left Clopin's side immediately, running to them. She was barely aware of doing so. She fell into her mother's waiting arms, burying her face in her shoulder. Her mother was sobbing. Cassandra hadn't realized that she herself had stopped crying until she heard her mother's sobs. Her parents enveloped her now, pressing her between them.

~xXx~

"I know who those men were and where they live. Are you literate?"

"What?" he'd been so startled by Cassandra's sudden flight he hadn't noticed Phoebus appear beside him.

"You can read and write, can't you?" He twitched impatiently.

"Yes." Literacy was one of the few things that Clopin was truly proud of achieving. His father had been able to teach him and his older brother, Maurice, to read shortly before his death. Clopin had attempted to teach others to read, though without much success; many saw it as a waste of time, as something that would serve no purpose.

"I'll write it down for you," said Phoebus. "I'll write down who they are and where they live."

"All right," said Clopin. "Thank you."

Phoebus nodded. "I'm going to rescue Esmerelda," he said. He picked up the sword that had been taken from him and tossed carelessly aside only hours earlier. He examined the blade now, running his fingertip along it.

"Listen, if we're going to do that, we need a plan," said Clopin, "I've got to meet with the council of elders, we'll form an army and go in after her – "

"No." Phoebus shook his head, fastening the sword to his belt. "It has to be done now."

"Phoebus, if you burst in there now – "

"I care about her! I love her, and I'm going to save her!"

"We all love her, Phoebus, but you need to have a plan. If something should happen – "

Phoebus turned and walked away, pushing through the panicking crowd. Clopin started to go after him, then stopped. He was needed here. He had to meet with the rest of the council and decide what should be done. If they were to flee Paris, if would have to be done tonight. If they were to stay, they would need a plan.

~xXx~

"You shouldn't have come!" She paced back and forth frantically. "If he finds you here – "

"I'm not afraid of him. I'm here to rescue you."

"You can't," she said. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes, streaming down her face. "He'll kill them all if I leave – "

"So I'll go warn them," he said, shifting his weight on the windowsill. They were wasting precious time; Frollo could be back at any minute. "We'll round up the caravans and leave with the rest of the Gypsies."

She shook her head. "No, Quasimodo. I can't. He'll kill them all. He'll rape and torture and slaughter all of them. I can't let him."

"But – but if they escape – "

"We've tried before. There is no escape." She rubbed her eyes. "Just go before he finds you."

"Esmerelda, we can't let him win. Phoebus is down here in the courtyard waiting for you. We have to go now!"

"Phoebus?" her eyes lit up, as he'd known they would at the mere mention of Phoebus's name. She bit her lip, wringing her hands as if trying to decide. She stepped towards Quasimodo's outstretched hand, then stopped, spinning around. He'd heard it as well, the sound of a key turning in a lock, and he leapt off of the windowsill and into the room. Esmerelda shook her head, her eyes growing wide with fear. "No!" she whispered, "you have to leave, you've got to!"

He heard the dull scraping sound of Phoebus climbing up the rope and stepped away from the window to let him in. He was stupid for coming in; it was his job to remain in the courtyard to make sure no one saw them escape. Esmerelda was crying now, trying frantically to push them both back towards the window.

"So! This is how you repay me?"

Esmerelda spun around, shaking her head. "Please, you don't understand – "

"Oh, I understand perfectly well." Frollo swept into the room. Quasimodo had never seen him look so angry in all his life, and was suddenly very glad to have Phoebus in the room with him. "I rescue your little harlot friend from the fate she so deserves and this is the thanks I get!"

Phoebus stepped forward now, brandishing his sword. "That 'harlot' was just a girl," he said, "and what you let those men do to her was abominable." He stepped forward. "You let Esmerelda go right now."

Frollo reached into the folds of his robe, pulling out a sheet of paper. "She has made her decision," he said, handing the paper to Phoebus. "She is my wife now, completely by choice."

"You forced her!" shouted Phoebus, throwing the paper to the ground. Quasimodo now saw that it was a marriage license. "You threatened her!"

"I did nothing of the sort. Her life was never threatened."

"The girl!" sputtered Phoebus, "you threatened the girl! You blackmailed Esmerelda and – "

"And if Esmerelda runs away, I will destroy each and every Gypsy in this city." Frollo smirked, folding his arms across his chest. "Oh, they can flee too, they're quite good at that, but I'll find them. They have no Court of Miracles to hide in. I will personally make sure that they do not leave this city. You see, Esmerelda is willing to sacrifice her life, but she doesn't want the blood of the innocents on her hands."

"I will kill you!" Phoebus was screaming now, and Quasimodo heard the clattering of armor as guards rushed to the room.

Frollo grabbed Esmerelda, pulling her in front of him. "The only way to slay me is to go through her," he said. "Are you willing to do that, Phoebus? Kill the woman you love so that you might kill me also?" Guards were streaming into the room now, surrounding Phoebus. "Take him away," said Frollo. "Perhaps releasing him as a bad idea. I want him dead by dawn."

Esmerelda began to sob loudly as Phoebus was dragged away. "What about the hunchback, sir?" Some of the guards were now looking at Quasimodo, sizing him up, wondering what the outcome of an attack would be.

"Bring him back to Notre Dame," said Frollo, waving his free hand at them. "He's really of no concern to me."

Quasimodo turned to the window, shoving the guards away from him. "I can find my own way back," he said, straddling the windowsill and grabbing the rope to climb down. He did not want to see Esmerelda cry any more than he wanted her to see him cry. Frollo was right. He had been right about so many things; the world was a cruel, ugly, unfair place. Beauty simply did not survive. This was Esmerelda's choice, cruel and awful as it was, she was doing it for the good of her people. She was beautiful still, and he would always love her, no matter what Frollo did to her.

~xXx~

"There are roadblocks set up. No one will let us leave."

The news from the scouts they'd sent out was disturbing at best. Guards were posted along all major roadways. They wouldn't let anyone of Gypsy descent leave Paris. The plan – to flee and then send a party back for Esmerelda – was dissolving. They were trapped. Clopin turned to the rest of the council, shaking his head.

"We're trapped here," he said. The news sunk in quickly for most of the council members. Clopin turned away from them, looking out at the crowd that had gathered outside of his caravan. He could see Cassandra's mother standing there, his coat folded over her arm. He'd forgotten that he'd given it to her daughter. He swallowed. He would be the one to tell them that they were trapped in the city.

...END OF PROLOGUE