The Hunchback of Notre Dame: Heaven's Light

Adoro Te Devote

A discarded knife happened to have escaped its owner, by slipping from the dead urchin's hand and fell plainly into the river, a trail of blood being carried down. All was calm, all was safe, but their hearts were full of worry and contempt. Quasimodo, so bold and so protective of the poor one he held dashed through the trees as quickly and as gingerly as he could. Evrard was in the lead to get them safely back, the feeling of danger nearing again as tight as a knot.

There was a moment when time had begun to slow, through his very eyes. Right when he got to the meddled camp, his legs felt like nothing and had fallen onto his battered knees, sharply. Agatha kept her head leaned back against his arm and her jaw clenched, bearing with it as much as she could. Adalyn tried to usher the addled hunchback to keep going. They were nearly there. Then she guided the weakened ones to a secluded, yet ruined tent to try and look over the blind. Her injuries were not visible, which proved it much more difficult. Agatha's breathing became less labored when the hunchback gingerly set her down upon the hammock, but he did not leave.

"Dear...dear! Do not struggle." informed the frightened Archdeacon, bringing the addled princess in after them. Her state was unpredictable at the moment; not knowing whether she had been hurt or hit, they could not take any chances. But she was being, yet again, unwilling and almost made to kick him to get free. Did Agatha die? Why is father crying? Why won't she move? Those intense, sad thoughts were ruling her frightened mind. He's hurting, she's hurting... Please!

"Please!" Rose yelled, as hard as her lungs would let her and her hand pulled free from the elder's grasp.

Despite him coming after her, she ran to the hunchback who looked over the hurt blind woman. She saw that, in his eyes, he was in pain. He was hurt deep inside. And Agatha who remained still, was fearful of moving too much. The pain she was bearing was confusing and unpredictable. When Rose dashed to his side, he gazed wide eyed at her before wrapping his great arms around her. Agatha gave a groan as she tried to move again, meaning to greet the princess as well. But all it did was to bring Quasimodo's fright higher.

"...don't die..." was Rose's shattering plea.

"Oh...." Quasimodo nearly broke down at the mere thought. "...oh, my darling, no. She i-i-is not going to die."

"I'm ... more lively than you two at the moment." Agatha's tone was gruff, yet small.

Sniffling, Quasimodo came even closer and took Agatha's hand into both of his, blanketing them around hers to get it warm again. Agatha seemed to grimace at his action.

"You're just as chilled as I am..." she stated, seeing this form of compassion in vain, but she appreciated it greatly.

Quasimodo turned his gaze away from her as Esmeralda came with a bowl of warmed water and a couple rags. He turned to look back, his eyes pained and tearful. Rose could not be here and neither could he. Agatha needed to be examined. So, to show his love and worry to her, he went and rested his head against hers as he still held her one hand for a chance of warmth for her. Agatha nearly started to cry, as she felt the care he had for her. But then, his hand slowly let hers go as he left the tent with Rose beside him.

As soon as they were out of the tent, Quasimodo knelt down to the girl as the poor Archdeacon was coming to them. What a great man he had become after all those awful years of isolation. The Archdeacon made a weary step towards them, hearing the hunchback speak to the heir as though she was perfect family to him.

"I am s-sorry, father.... I am sorry!" cried her voice, but then she was soothed to silence.

"No... no. You are so brave.... You always were..." Quasimodo whispered to the girl, cupping her cheek with his mighty hand. " I only wish that..." trembled his voice, yet held strength, but he failed to utter the last few words. "You never did any wrong."