Title: One Day Out There
Fandom: Crossover (HoND/Aladdin/Beauty and the Beast)
Prompt: See
Part the First. “Well, well, well,” said Frollo.
Today was a good day. Already he had found a way to rid his city of vermin, as he had wanted for so many years. Now, not only had he found the key to his captain’s loyalty - and what a bewitching key it was - but… “If it isn’t Captain Phoebus, back from the dead.”
The gypsy chit spat at him. He pulled a white handkerchief from the sleeves of his robe and wiped it off. How barbaric, these gypsy heathens. “I should have guessed before. Your disappearance was a little too neat. The lack of a body should have been obvious. No matter.” He allowed himself a smirk. “That will soon be remedied. And this time there will be no miracles.”
---
Quasi was in a heap on the dirt floor, panting for breath. He’d run until he couldn’t hear the guards, and then had kept running until he was sure they had given up. He’d lost himself in the tunnels, feeling blindly for a wall and following it until he had to turn. Now he was completely alone.
Well, not completely.
When he rubbed the lamp, Genie emerged… snoring, in a nightcap, clutching a cloth bear.
“Genie!” gasped Quasi.
Genie snorted. “Yeah, yeah, I’m awake, I’m awake- whoa.” He drew out a hard yellow hat with a light fixed to the front. “Someone’s been spelunking in my sleep.”
“Genie, she’s gone! They took Belle!”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Quasi. Who’s taken her?”
“Frollo’s men! They’ve probably taken her to the Palace of Justice, and who knows what they’re doing to her, or Esmeralda, or, or Phoebus? What are we going to do?”
“What are we going to do?” said Genie. “You are going to rescue her, of course!” He donned a suit of armor and wielded a conjured lance.
“Oh, yeah?” said Quasi. “How? I’m not a hero - I’m not even normal. I’m a monster, just like Frollo said. I couldn’t protect Belle when I had the chance. I ran away, Genie. Even if I wasn’t a freak, I lost my chance to be a hero when I abandoned her.”
“Quasi,” said Genie. “There was this guy I knew, so many years ago. One of my old masters, actually. And let me tell you, he was something. Didn’t look like much, just a poor boy off the street, spent more of his time stealing food than anything else. But you know what?”
“What?”
“He ended up being a hero. Now you’re not the first one to say you’d free me - he was - but you are the first to say you only want one wish. Anyway, through a hilarious series of wacky hijinks, he ended up saving the kingdom from a guy almost as bad as Frollo. This little guy, same kind of kid you’d pass on the street begging for coins, he saved a kingdom from being ruled by a crazy sorcerer and got to marry a princess.”
Genie sighed. “But he had to break his promise, in the end. It’s what happens when your dad-in-law gets killed by a nutso magician and the only way to keep the line of succession going is to be a prince.” A look of pain crossed his face. “And then I had to go - I can’t stay in one spot very long. Couple of uses and I’m gone. I’d have loved to see the kids, you know? Found out later they’d revoked the marriage laws just for their little girl.
But my point is,” said Genie, perking up a little, “that you don’t have to be a fantastically awesome person to be a hero. You don’t have to be attractive, or have magic powers, or even be brave one hundred percent of the time. You just have to find something you know in your heart is wrong, and fight against it as hard as you can. And if you mess up a few times, who cares? You tried, which is more than most people, believe it or not.”
Quasi looked at his hands. They were fresh and new. So was he. He turned to Genie.
“Genie, I’m going to rescue Belle. I need to get there as fast as I can. Can you bring me to where she is?”
“As soon as you say the magic words!” said Genie, rubbing his palms together.
“Genie,” said Quasimodo, “I wish for you to take me to where Belle is.”
“You got it, pal!” said Genie, rolling up his sleeves and spewing sparks from his hands. “Bibbity… boppity… boo!” The sparks arranged themselves in the shape of a carriage, pulled by four winged horses. “Let’s go, kid!” said Genie, hustling Quasi into the carriage and leaping onto the driver’s seat. “We’re going to go save the girl!”
---
“I think,” said Frollo, with unrestrained glee, “that I’m not making things clear to you. Though what can I expect from a woman who who thinks herself a man, and a man who is a traitor, not only to his commanding officer, but to his sex and blood as well?” He cast an appraising gaze up and down the gypsy girl’s body. “Frankly, my dear captain, I don’t see why you bothered to betray me for something like this. Women like her tend to be… used.”
A muffled growl was his only answer. He turned to his guards. “Which one of you decided to gag them?”
One man stepped forward, twitching his mustache nervously. “Eh, me, my lord Frollo. Corporal Chevalier.”
“Return to your place, Lieutenant Chevalier.”
“Sir.”
“As I was saying,” said Frollo, “I think that you don’t understand the true weight of your situation. Look out there.” He gestured to the square below them, where soldiers were piling wood for stakes and erecting hasty gallows. “In a few more hours, my men will have found the rest of your brood. And once we’ve - ahem - asked them a few questions, they will die. And with the information they will give us, we can move out of Paris and wipe them out like the filth they are, once and for all.”
The gypsy girl was staring at him with such intensity that a lesser man would have crossed himself for fear of the evil eye. But Frollo was no such man. He gestured to the guards. “Unfortunately, you burned any evidence of your activities. But, for every door God closes, a window is opened.” The guards took off the gags. “And in this case,” he said, with obvious delight, “you shall be the window. Lieutenant, take these two down to the Chamber of Correction. I want you to interrogate the captain. I’m sure his treachery is still fresh in his mind.”
The girl’s eyes narrowed. “You vicious-”
“Now, now,” said Frollo. “I’d hate to gag you again. Guards, please take them both to the chamber. Let her watch. And Lieutenant,” he said, “Take your time.”
“Yes, sir.”
As the two were dragged from the room, Frollo turned his gaze towards the other girl. Unlike the gypsy, she was both beautiful and pure. He circled her briefly, trailing a hand down her face, her curves, inhaling that faintest of womanly scents. “And who are you? A fellow conspirator?”
She pressed her lips together and said nothing.
“I could always make you talk,” said Frollo, “But I see no reason to. Some women are better silent, the better to appreciate their beauty. You’re far too pure to be debasing yourself with those pests. Why-”
“Belle!”
His new captain. Wonderful.
“Oh, Belle,” said the man, slinging an arm around her waist, an exaggerated look of relief on his face. “You’re safe! I’ve rescued you from those terrible gypsies-” the girl had the impudence to roll her eyes “-and now we can go back to our village and pick up where we left off!”
Inwardly, Frollo seethed, but outwardly he smiled through his teeth. A buffoon like that did not deserve a woman like her, any more than an ant deserved a rose.
“My dear Captain Gaston, I’m so glad you’ve returned.”
“Sir,” said Gaston, “I have carried out your orders. The gypsies we have found are in the cages. My men and I await for your orders to start the executions.”
“Excellent,” said Frollo. “Now, if you will-”
He stopped. An enormous carriage had just crashed through the window.