[Private] The Hunchback of Notre Dame (AdAstra)

[UncoordinatedPisces]

Aimee's hands shot out and gripped the bars in pure frustration. She was beyond angry. Frollo had come in here, perhaps not with bad intentions initially and then had the nerve just to walk off after touching her. After trying to do things to her. She had gotten what she asked for, death, but not without having to suffer the sick madness that went on in her Uncle's head. She felt throwing her arms around and stamping her feet.

"Enjoy life alone you sick, sick man!" she screamed back at him, watching him walk away hopelessly. She let go of the bars and groaned. There was one thing she wanted to do know, and she knew she wouldn't get the chance. Say goodbye to Phoebus. The guard she initially asked shot a glance at her.

He had seen what had just happened, yet it seemed he wasn't going to act upon it. It was pointless to continue ranting, to continue hoping. Giving up, she sat on the cold floor and buried her face in her hands. It was going to be a long night's wait.

[AdAstrα]

Claude Frollo hardly slept that night. A million things on his mind all at once, he could not relax long enough to; and therefore, as soon as the sun began to rise, he got dressed. Standing by the window for a while, he gazed at the empty street below as the darkness slowly faded. Once, he could have sworn he saw a gypsy girl watching the building from afar, but when he looked again, she was gone. Then, the soldiers began to arrive, one by one.

By that time, the news had spread across the city and people were already gathering in the square, saying hardly a word to one another as they watched the executions being prepared.

Frollo rushed outside. "Is everything ready?" he asked one of the soldiers, who nodded. "Yes, sir. Very soon."
"Have the prisoners been taken away?"
"No, sir, not ye-"
"Then do it now." he interrupted.

[UncoordinatedPisces]

Aimee was disturbed from her not-so-peaceful slumber by a hand grabbing her shoulder. It was a guard. She soon noticed she had been completely unaware of the prisoner's being led out behind her. She shot up to stand and she allowed herself to be walked out of the cell. She stood on her tiptoes, searching for Phoebus and Esmeralda among the others.

No such luck. She dropped back down onto her feet and let out a somewhat distressed sigh. Around her the gypsies were strangely silent. Maybe it was because they knew it was the end. They couldn't get out now. Seeing such dismay and pessimism from people she associated with festivals and good times hurt her. Aimee felt ever worse about what was to come. No one's hand to hold, no one's smile to return.

The group of people were led out into the open and into the square. Aimee made some observations. So many people had turned up. In a way, it sickened her, but it was normal in her society. She noticed the building of the bonfire and she felt a twinge of fear and panic for Esmeralda. That was one way she didn't want to go.

The group came to a stop and some were loaded into open air cells, but Aimee remained in the hands of the guard. Finally, as she turned her head around she spotted the person she needed to see. Phoebus. She knew she couldn't call, but hopefully he'd see her.

[AdAstrα]

Phoebus had indeed spotted Aimee, and as she glanced his way their gazes met for what must have been only a few seconds, but felt like a lot longer somehow. Time always had a way of slowing down whenever the two of them were together, and in that moment especially, he had no complaints. He could've gazed into those blue eyes all day - perhaps by doing so they could make the time stop completely and thus escape their fate. But he knew that was an unrealistic thought. Nothing but a dream. An illusion.

He sighed, his attempts to smile reassuringly turning out to be unsuccessful. He was frighetened, there was no use denying that. Not for himself necessarily, but for the girl. He would sacrifice himself to save her life without so much as a shadow of a doubt, if he could only be sure that she would then be spared. However, if Frollo had decided that his niece was to be executed along with everybody else, that was what would happen.

Meanwhile, the gypsy named Roseriya was making her way through the crowd, standing on her tip-toes to catch a glimpse of what was going on. Having narrowly escaped Frollo's army for the third time in her life, she had taken precautions to blend in as much as possible; her clothes less colourful than usual and her dark hair braided. As she spotted Esmeralda and the others she felt her heart sink, and for a split second she wondered if she should leave. She had already watched her parents die, and although that was a long time ago now, she wasn't sure she could go through that pain all over again. Still, she somehow felt like she had to be there. Perhaps it would bring them some comfort, to see her face and know that she loved them all dearly.

[UncoordinatedPisces]

When Aimee realised Phoebus was just as scared as he was, she grimaced. She couldn't cry, even though she wanted too. Death didn't particularly scare her, it was just the pain and the possiblilty of seeing Phoebus die. Aimee's eyes wondered the building that lay before her, Notre Dame. She gazed up and wondered if Quasimodo was up there watching. Whether he could come down, or Frollo had locked him up for good.

Perhaps if he could escape, he'd find a way to stop all of this. After all, "Frollo is an old man with only a scary face and an a few soldiers to help him" she thought. Aimee was still under the illusion that she was going to die, but she didn't know whether Frollo would keep to what he had said. After what happened in the cell last night, she'd be happy to die and escape him. All anyone could do now was wait for Frollo to arrive and make his final judgement.

[AdAstrα]

(*Rafiki voice* it's aliiiiive )

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Phoebus kept looking at Aimee, kept imagining a life in which they could both be together always; a world of peace where everyone knew how to love. Then, a loud gasp from within the crowd amongst which he found himself alerted him to the fact that the Judge had arrived on the scene. Looking up, he saw Frollo, and he had to resist a strong urge to shout at him; infuriated by the mere sight of the man he had once trusted and respected.

Frollo got off his horse, the golden flames of the torches reflecting in his dark eyes. Without so much as looking at any of the convicts; the innocent souls about to meet a gruesome fate, he turned to one of the soldiers, a cruel-looking man who stood at the front, eagerly awaiting orders.

"Let's begin." Frollo said.

Immediately there was a scream coming from inside a cart that had until now remained hidden - the scream of a woman. Grabbed violently by the arms she was dragged outside, led like an animal to the stake. It was Esmeralda.