One Day Out There (Part the Fourth)
Title: One Day Out There
Fandom: Crossover (HoND/Aladdin/Beauty and the Beast)
Prompt: See Part the First.
It took every ounce of willpower that Quasi had to keep himself from bolting out of the square. Stiffly, he turned and walked as calmly as he could towards the gates, lagging behind a group of gossips going the same way, only half-listening to their conversation. He was too worried about Belle. Had she managed to leave the city before the gates were barred?
“This is not the first time he’s-”
“-always hated the gypsies, never-“
“-arrested for talk like this.”
The group broke up, but Quasi walked faster. Genie appeared before him. “Hey, Quasi, what’s wrong?” he asked, seeing the look on his face.
“Everything! Frollo thinks I’ve been kidnapped by gypsies, and now he has the entire guard out after them. Belle might be locked in the city without anywhere to stay, innocent people are going to get arrested for something that they didn’t do, and it’s all my fault! If I hadn’t changed, none of this would have happened.”
“Quasi, Quasi, Quasi,” said Genie, floating upside down. “I think you need something of a change in perspective, you know what I mean? Look at it this way,” he said, popping up behind him with his fingers in a rectangle. “If you hadn’t changed, would you have met Belle?”
“No,” said Quasi, “Of course not. But-”
“Nuh-uh, no buts. Let me finish. Before you changed, did Frollo like the gypsies?”
“No,” said Quasi. He was starting to see where this was going. “He’s wanted them out of Paris for years; he says they’re evil. He’s just never had…” he thought back to what he’d heard from the gossips. “He’s never had a reason to go after them before.”
“Did anything in your tower make it seem like there were gypsies there?”
“No! There was no evidence at all!”
“So it’s not because he’s looking for you, it’s really because-”
“-he needed an excuse!”
“Which would have happened with or without your wish,” said Genie with a satisfied smile. “So it’s not your fault at all.”
Quasi realized he was grinning. It was like his soul was lighter. Except he’d forgotten something yet again. “I still need to find Belle. She’ll be-”
“Thomas!”
The shout came from farther down the street. He ran towards it as Genie disappeared again into the lamp. “Belle!”
Her hair was even more mussed than it had been when he’d left her, and there was a certain wildness in her eyes, but she was safe. Scared, but safe. “Are you alright? The guards-”
“I was worried you’d be trapped here-”
“I thought you wouldn’t have a place to stay-”
They stopped, realizing they were interrupting each other. Laughing nervously, they hugged each other. Quasi blushed, thankful that the dark hid his face. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d worried, or how much he wanted to hold on to her now that he’d found her.
She broke the embrace first. “So you are stuck here, then. I thought so.”
“Oh, no, I’m not stuck here, I just-” He stopped. He wasn’t Quasimodo, the bellringer of Notre Dame. He was Thomas du Clocher, apprenticed to someone outside of Paris. Quasimodo might be able to go home to his tower, but Thomas couldn’t. “-don’t have anywhere to stay,” he finished weakly. That was technically true. He certainly couldn’t go back to Notre Dame, and he had no way of making arrangements to stay somewhere.
Belle bit her lip. “I know a place,” she said at last. “They… take people in, when they’re needed, for no charge.”
Quasi shrugged. “Alright, then, let’s go-”
She grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “It’s not that simple.” She lowered her voice, eyes darting around the now-empty street. “If we went there, you would have to promise not to go to the guards.”
Quasi frowned. “Why?”
“They- we- it’s hard to explain. Please, you have to promise.”
“I promise,” said Quasi.
Belle wrung her hands a bit before taking off her apron. She ripped a strip from it and handed it to him. “Put this over your eyes, please.”
He tied the strip around his head. “How will I walk?”
He felt her arm encircle his. “I’ll lead you. You’ll be fine, just trust me.”
He did trust her, for whatever foolish reason, and let her lead him through a maze of alleys and side streets. Twice she pulled him into a corner, and he could hear the crunching of boots on the street and the shrieks of townspeople as they were dragged from their homes. Finally, she pulled the blindfold off his face. “We’re here.”
They were standing outside some sort of inn. Belle knocked three times on the door, then two, then four. A section of the door slid open, and a husky female voice asked, “Who’s there?”
“My friend and I in need of shelter,” said Belle, in the stiff way someone recites a memorized phrase.
“We have no rooms empty,” said the voice in the same manner.
“Please, let us in. Is it not written, 'Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be satisfied'?”
"Indeed," said the voice. "And blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven."
The door opened, revealing a darkened room. Belle and Quasi walked inside, and the door closed behind them. Quasi heard a flint and tinder being struck, and he turned to see a gypsy woman holding a candle. A gypsy?
The gypsy woman’s face broke into a smile. “Belle!”
“Esmeralda!”
The two women hugged each other. Now that he’d had a moment to look, Quasi realized why she looked familiar - she was wearing a darker-colored skirt, and her gold tiara and bangles were gone, but she was definitely the dancer from the festival. Now he knew why Belle was afraid to show him there. If anyone discovered them, they’d be arrested for harboring gypsies.
“The guards are coming,” said Belle frantically. “They’re looking for-”
“I know,” said a voice behind them. Its owner was a tall, muscular man, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He walked up to the gypsy - Esmeralda, Quasi reminded himself fiercely - and draped his cloak over a chair. “I came as quickly as I could.” He took the candle from Esmeralda’s hand, placed it on the table, and drew her to his chest. “I went to every house I could, trying to warn our friends, but I was too late for most of them. Frollo’s using everything he has to find your people,” he whispered into her hair. “He’s searching every house, he’s locked down the city, he’s arresting people left and right- he’s been waiting for an opportunity like this.”
“We knew he’d try something,” said Esmeralda in her exotic tones. “We just didn’t think it would be so soon. If we had more time-”
“He’s looking for me,” said Belle.
They both looked and stared at her. “Don’t blame yourself,” said the man. “He doesn’t even know-”
“Yes, he does,” said Belle. “I saw, in the streets- he’s hunting me!”
“Then we have to hide you,” said Esmeralda. “You, and- your friend, here.” She frowned disapprovingly.
“I’m sorry. This is my friend, Thomas. I know it was risky, but he doesn’t have anywhere to stay, and we can trust him. I led him here blindfolded.”
The man sighed. “It’s too late to do anything about it, and one more fugitive won’t hurt us, not now. Take this,” he said, handing them the candle. “Go down the stairs to the cellar. Slide the barrels of 1470 Burgundy back towards the wall, then climb into the tunnel and slide them back - they’re lighter than they look. We’ll lead you through the tunnel system once we’ve gotten packed everything up and destroyed any evidence that we were here.”
Belle took Quasi’s hand and led him into the tunnel - a dark but surprisingly spacious chamber under the floor, revealed once he’d shoved the barrels out of the way and pulled them back over the hole once they were inside. Belle blew the candle out. “Don’t want them to see the light.”
Quasi decided that he’d been quiet long enough. “What did he mean, ‘the others’? Why are the soldiers looking for you? How did you even know to come here?”
He heard a sigh in the darkness. “Esmeralda and Phoebus are part of the resistance.”
“Resistance against who?”
“Frollo. He’s supposed to protect the city from crime, but he’s corrupted himself and his station by persecuting the gypsies.”
“Why would they- why would he-”
“-help the gypsies when he himself is not one of them? He used to be the captain of Frollo’s guard. Esmeralda was arrested about two years ago for stealing coins. She hadn’t stolen them, and Phoebus could prove it. He saw her earning them, it should have been an easy case. But Frollo wouldn’t listen. He was looking for an excuse, even then. He was going to burn her at the stake as an example.”
Quasi sat in the dark, dumbstruck. He knew his master hated the gypsies, but to burn one of them alive for a crime she hadn’t committed? That was beyond what he knew of him, beyond even what he’d learned in the past few hours. It couldn't be true!
“Phoebus… he fell in love with her. She was in prison for so long, while he argued her case for her, and they just… fell in love. But eventually Frollo decided that he was interfering too much with his plan, and spending too much time with his prisoner. He was going to execute him for insubordination.”
“But he didn’t.”
“Oh, no, he was about to. But Phoebus and Esmeralda escaped. It wasn’t easy - he almost died while they were riding away. Probably the only reason they were able to escape is because they thought he had died. They left Paris for a while, traveled with one of the caravans, got married, started a network of gypsies and sympathizers who thought, like they did, that Frollo was abusing his power… and that’s when they met me.”
“What happened?” asked Quasi. Things were starting to make sense to him- the fervor of the captain, the excuse to arrest the gypsies, Belle’s fear when she’d first met him… something was missing.
“About a year ago, my father died. He left to go to the fair and… and he never came back.” She sniffled loudly. “Everyone always thought that he was mad, and that I was, too. I loved to read so much… anyway, without him, I didn’t have a man to protect me. I was… free.” She said the word with such bitterness that Quasi flinched.
“The day after my father’s funeral, Gaston came to my house. He gave me an ultimatum - either I would marry him, or he would accuse me of being a witch. And he could do it, too. He was so popular in our village. The people would have followed him on any journey, no matter how dangerous. All the girls adored him. Any one of them would have gladly married him. But he’s a hunter. He liked the, the challenge of claiming the one person who didn’t want him.” She drew a shaky breath.
“So I married him. And he… he wanted me, all the time. If I resisted, he wouldn’t let me sleep- he’d hold me down- I woke up one morning to find my favorite book in the fire, because I’d disobeyed him the night before. I hadn’t- I hadn’t told him how much I’d enjoyed it, like he’d told me to.” She was crying now, her apron muffling her tears, and Quasi wasn’t sure if she wanted to be touched just now.
“And so when the gypsies came, I ran. I asked them if they would take me on, until I was somewhere Gaston couldn’t find me. I thought, if I could go far enough… but I didn’t. He followed me here. He’s working as the captain of the guard, I saw him. And now he’s coming for me and I have to go back, but I can’t, I can’t-” and suddenly she was in his arms and she was crying and Quasi was holding on to her as hard as she was holding him.
He couldn’t see her. He couldn’t see a thing in this darkness. Carefully, so as not to scare her, he reached out a perfect, slender hand to touch her face. She flinched, but did not pull away. He moved his hand across what he couldn’t see, wiping tears from her cheek, running a thumb gently under her closed eyes, brushing her forehead with trembling fingers, cupping her jaw softly in his palm-
There was a crash, followed by muffled shouting. Belle stiffened, pulling away from him. “Oh, God.”
The sound of boots grew louder, the crashing sounds more frequent, and torchlight filtered through the cracks in the floorboards. There was a cracking noise as the floor itself was torn apart, exposing them.
Everything seemed to slow down.
One second, and Quasi saw Esmeralda, snarling and bucking mindlessly in the grip of four guardsmen, and Phoebus, already chained and bleeding from a cut on his neck.
Two seconds, and he saw a guard grab Belle by the hair. His grip on her broke as she screamed in pain.
Three seconds, and her hands were caught and shackled by a leering guard.
There was no time to think. Quasi turned and ran blindly into the darkness of the tunnel, the bag with the lamp thudding painfully against his thigh. Dimly he heard the guards shouting, but it was Belle’s screams that followed him as he ran.
Fandom: Crossover (HoND/Aladdin/Beauty and the Beast)
Prompt: See Part the First.
It took every ounce of willpower that Quasi had to keep himself from bolting out of the square. Stiffly, he turned and walked as calmly as he could towards the gates, lagging behind a group of gossips going the same way, only half-listening to their conversation. He was too worried about Belle. Had she managed to leave the city before the gates were barred?
“This is not the first time he’s-”
“-always hated the gypsies, never-“
“-arrested for talk like this.”
The group broke up, but Quasi walked faster. Genie appeared before him. “Hey, Quasi, what’s wrong?” he asked, seeing the look on his face.
“Everything! Frollo thinks I’ve been kidnapped by gypsies, and now he has the entire guard out after them. Belle might be locked in the city without anywhere to stay, innocent people are going to get arrested for something that they didn’t do, and it’s all my fault! If I hadn’t changed, none of this would have happened.”
“Quasi, Quasi, Quasi,” said Genie, floating upside down. “I think you need something of a change in perspective, you know what I mean? Look at it this way,” he said, popping up behind him with his fingers in a rectangle. “If you hadn’t changed, would you have met Belle?”
“No,” said Quasi, “Of course not. But-”
“Nuh-uh, no buts. Let me finish. Before you changed, did Frollo like the gypsies?”
“No,” said Quasi. He was starting to see where this was going. “He’s wanted them out of Paris for years; he says they’re evil. He’s just never had…” he thought back to what he’d heard from the gossips. “He’s never had a reason to go after them before.”
“Did anything in your tower make it seem like there were gypsies there?”
“No! There was no evidence at all!”
“So it’s not because he’s looking for you, it’s really because-”
“-he needed an excuse!”
“Which would have happened with or without your wish,” said Genie with a satisfied smile. “So it’s not your fault at all.”
Quasi realized he was grinning. It was like his soul was lighter. Except he’d forgotten something yet again. “I still need to find Belle. She’ll be-”
“Thomas!”
The shout came from farther down the street. He ran towards it as Genie disappeared again into the lamp. “Belle!”
Her hair was even more mussed than it had been when he’d left her, and there was a certain wildness in her eyes, but she was safe. Scared, but safe. “Are you alright? The guards-”
“I was worried you’d be trapped here-”
“I thought you wouldn’t have a place to stay-”
They stopped, realizing they were interrupting each other. Laughing nervously, they hugged each other. Quasi blushed, thankful that the dark hid his face. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d worried, or how much he wanted to hold on to her now that he’d found her.
She broke the embrace first. “So you are stuck here, then. I thought so.”
“Oh, no, I’m not stuck here, I just-” He stopped. He wasn’t Quasimodo, the bellringer of Notre Dame. He was Thomas du Clocher, apprenticed to someone outside of Paris. Quasimodo might be able to go home to his tower, but Thomas couldn’t. “-don’t have anywhere to stay,” he finished weakly. That was technically true. He certainly couldn’t go back to Notre Dame, and he had no way of making arrangements to stay somewhere.
Belle bit her lip. “I know a place,” she said at last. “They… take people in, when they’re needed, for no charge.”
Quasi shrugged. “Alright, then, let’s go-”
She grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “It’s not that simple.” She lowered her voice, eyes darting around the now-empty street. “If we went there, you would have to promise not to go to the guards.”
Quasi frowned. “Why?”
“They- we- it’s hard to explain. Please, you have to promise.”
“I promise,” said Quasi.
Belle wrung her hands a bit before taking off her apron. She ripped a strip from it and handed it to him. “Put this over your eyes, please.”
He tied the strip around his head. “How will I walk?”
He felt her arm encircle his. “I’ll lead you. You’ll be fine, just trust me.”
He did trust her, for whatever foolish reason, and let her lead him through a maze of alleys and side streets. Twice she pulled him into a corner, and he could hear the crunching of boots on the street and the shrieks of townspeople as they were dragged from their homes. Finally, she pulled the blindfold off his face. “We’re here.”
They were standing outside some sort of inn. Belle knocked three times on the door, then two, then four. A section of the door slid open, and a husky female voice asked, “Who’s there?”
“My friend and I in need of shelter,” said Belle, in the stiff way someone recites a memorized phrase.
“We have no rooms empty,” said the voice in the same manner.
“Please, let us in. Is it not written, 'Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be satisfied'?”
"Indeed," said the voice. "And blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven."
The door opened, revealing a darkened room. Belle and Quasi walked inside, and the door closed behind them. Quasi heard a flint and tinder being struck, and he turned to see a gypsy woman holding a candle. A gypsy?
The gypsy woman’s face broke into a smile. “Belle!”
“Esmeralda!”
The two women hugged each other. Now that he’d had a moment to look, Quasi realized why she looked familiar - she was wearing a darker-colored skirt, and her gold tiara and bangles were gone, but she was definitely the dancer from the festival. Now he knew why Belle was afraid to show him there. If anyone discovered them, they’d be arrested for harboring gypsies.
“The guards are coming,” said Belle frantically. “They’re looking for-”
“I know,” said a voice behind them. Its owner was a tall, muscular man, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He walked up to the gypsy - Esmeralda, Quasi reminded himself fiercely - and draped his cloak over a chair. “I came as quickly as I could.” He took the candle from Esmeralda’s hand, placed it on the table, and drew her to his chest. “I went to every house I could, trying to warn our friends, but I was too late for most of them. Frollo’s using everything he has to find your people,” he whispered into her hair. “He’s searching every house, he’s locked down the city, he’s arresting people left and right- he’s been waiting for an opportunity like this.”
“We knew he’d try something,” said Esmeralda in her exotic tones. “We just didn’t think it would be so soon. If we had more time-”
“He’s looking for me,” said Belle.
They both looked and stared at her. “Don’t blame yourself,” said the man. “He doesn’t even know-”
“Yes, he does,” said Belle. “I saw, in the streets- he’s hunting me!”
“Then we have to hide you,” said Esmeralda. “You, and- your friend, here.” She frowned disapprovingly.
“I’m sorry. This is my friend, Thomas. I know it was risky, but he doesn’t have anywhere to stay, and we can trust him. I led him here blindfolded.”
The man sighed. “It’s too late to do anything about it, and one more fugitive won’t hurt us, not now. Take this,” he said, handing them the candle. “Go down the stairs to the cellar. Slide the barrels of 1470 Burgundy back towards the wall, then climb into the tunnel and slide them back - they’re lighter than they look. We’ll lead you through the tunnel system once we’ve gotten packed everything up and destroyed any evidence that we were here.”
Belle took Quasi’s hand and led him into the tunnel - a dark but surprisingly spacious chamber under the floor, revealed once he’d shoved the barrels out of the way and pulled them back over the hole once they were inside. Belle blew the candle out. “Don’t want them to see the light.”
Quasi decided that he’d been quiet long enough. “What did he mean, ‘the others’? Why are the soldiers looking for you? How did you even know to come here?”
He heard a sigh in the darkness. “Esmeralda and Phoebus are part of the resistance.”
“Resistance against who?”
“Frollo. He’s supposed to protect the city from crime, but he’s corrupted himself and his station by persecuting the gypsies.”
“Why would they- why would he-”
“-help the gypsies when he himself is not one of them? He used to be the captain of Frollo’s guard. Esmeralda was arrested about two years ago for stealing coins. She hadn’t stolen them, and Phoebus could prove it. He saw her earning them, it should have been an easy case. But Frollo wouldn’t listen. He was looking for an excuse, even then. He was going to burn her at the stake as an example.”
Quasi sat in the dark, dumbstruck. He knew his master hated the gypsies, but to burn one of them alive for a crime she hadn’t committed? That was beyond what he knew of him, beyond even what he’d learned in the past few hours. It couldn't be true!
“Phoebus… he fell in love with her. She was in prison for so long, while he argued her case for her, and they just… fell in love. But eventually Frollo decided that he was interfering too much with his plan, and spending too much time with his prisoner. He was going to execute him for insubordination.”
“But he didn’t.”
“Oh, no, he was about to. But Phoebus and Esmeralda escaped. It wasn’t easy - he almost died while they were riding away. Probably the only reason they were able to escape is because they thought he had died. They left Paris for a while, traveled with one of the caravans, got married, started a network of gypsies and sympathizers who thought, like they did, that Frollo was abusing his power… and that’s when they met me.”
“What happened?” asked Quasi. Things were starting to make sense to him- the fervor of the captain, the excuse to arrest the gypsies, Belle’s fear when she’d first met him… something was missing.
“About a year ago, my father died. He left to go to the fair and… and he never came back.” She sniffled loudly. “Everyone always thought that he was mad, and that I was, too. I loved to read so much… anyway, without him, I didn’t have a man to protect me. I was… free.” She said the word with such bitterness that Quasi flinched.
“The day after my father’s funeral, Gaston came to my house. He gave me an ultimatum - either I would marry him, or he would accuse me of being a witch. And he could do it, too. He was so popular in our village. The people would have followed him on any journey, no matter how dangerous. All the girls adored him. Any one of them would have gladly married him. But he’s a hunter. He liked the, the challenge of claiming the one person who didn’t want him.” She drew a shaky breath.
“So I married him. And he… he wanted me, all the time. If I resisted, he wouldn’t let me sleep- he’d hold me down- I woke up one morning to find my favorite book in the fire, because I’d disobeyed him the night before. I hadn’t- I hadn’t told him how much I’d enjoyed it, like he’d told me to.” She was crying now, her apron muffling her tears, and Quasi wasn’t sure if she wanted to be touched just now.
“And so when the gypsies came, I ran. I asked them if they would take me on, until I was somewhere Gaston couldn’t find me. I thought, if I could go far enough… but I didn’t. He followed me here. He’s working as the captain of the guard, I saw him. And now he’s coming for me and I have to go back, but I can’t, I can’t-” and suddenly she was in his arms and she was crying and Quasi was holding on to her as hard as she was holding him.
He couldn’t see her. He couldn’t see a thing in this darkness. Carefully, so as not to scare her, he reached out a perfect, slender hand to touch her face. She flinched, but did not pull away. He moved his hand across what he couldn’t see, wiping tears from her cheek, running a thumb gently under her closed eyes, brushing her forehead with trembling fingers, cupping her jaw softly in his palm-
There was a crash, followed by muffled shouting. Belle stiffened, pulling away from him. “Oh, God.”
The sound of boots grew louder, the crashing sounds more frequent, and torchlight filtered through the cracks in the floorboards. There was a cracking noise as the floor itself was torn apart, exposing them.
Everything seemed to slow down.
One second, and Quasi saw Esmeralda, snarling and bucking mindlessly in the grip of four guardsmen, and Phoebus, already chained and bleeding from a cut on his neck.
Two seconds, and he saw a guard grab Belle by the hair. His grip on her broke as she screamed in pain.
Three seconds, and her hands were caught and shackled by a leering guard.
There was no time to think. Quasi turned and ran blindly into the darkness of the tunnel, the bag with the lamp thudding painfully against his thigh. Dimly he heard the guards shouting, but it was Belle’s screams that followed him as he ran.