The creature stood up, looking so utterly gleeful as she watched a blue-eyed boy jog ahead of Altair.
“I’ll take him, and take him home. I’ll stay with him to make sure he doesn’t say anything.”
“Are you sure, Kadar?” the orange man asked.
“I’m positive, Gilberto. Let me have him.”
Maria couldn’t believe someone had willing taken that creature.
And Kadar couldn’t believe that bitch would say that Desmond needed to die. He smiled as he hopped onto the platform. The boy was on his feet, pressing a doll into his hands—two, actually. He looked at them and realized that they were exact replicas of him and his brother. He laughed, kissing the boy on the cheek.
“Do you want to go home?” he signed flawlessly after handing him the dolls back.
“How do you know how to sign?” the man signed in response after hurriedly tucking the dolls into the pouch.
Kadar smiled. “I learned in a foreign country. The sign language that your master taught you is not so different from the kind in Spain that they use.”
He laughed as Desmond’s jaw dropped. Kadar couldn’t deny he was irreversibly attracted to the kid, ever since he first met him in the tent, and he supposed that the scars were supposed to make him ugly, but he had always had a thing for a heroic, strong man with a kind heart. That had been the only thing stopping him from going after Altair, the kind heart. He figured that Desmond would be the best man he could be with, then. He hugged Desmond back, then turned to look at Gilberto.
“His life is mine. I’ll take him back to the church and make sure he doesn’t say anything.”
He noticed the guard’s surprised expression, and he smiled innocently. He didn’t know why Gilberto was so paranoid about traitors outside the ranks. He should be more concerned about traitors within the ranks.
And Kadar had had about enough of Gilberto’s reign.
He linked his arm with Desmond’s as he led the boy off the platform, out of the catacombs and into the streets. The boy was bubbly and merry, talking to him all about his little house and how he had missed him. He had missed him from the first day he saw him, apparently.
That made Kadar happy. He had never been missed as his own person before.
Since, Desmond rambled on and on, pulling out the dolls to show him again and beaming from the praise he gave him. He knew he made the right decision. Here he would be free, with this boy, instead of under Gilberto’s oppressive rule. He was going to be safe, too, from the inevitable death that the others would suffer at the Archdeacon’s hands. He was sick of having to check in and checkout whenever he would leave, of the senseless murder of innocents that Gilberto seemed to favor. He was sick of the starving life—and he knew that Desmond was well fed in the tower. And if he went deaf, too, he would do so gladly—especially after Gilberto had the nerve to tell him he was worthless as a gypsy, when he brought in more money than Altair. He was a better dancer, too. He was finally free.
As they approached the gates of the church, they were met by Archdeacon Miles, who arched an eyebrow.
“Well, this is an unexpected turn of events, but I can’t say I’m entirely surprised,” the man said, and Kadar smiled innocently.
“I know which side will win. You can’t fool me, and I know you won’t slay me—even if I never call sanctuary, because you know that I’ll stay here and keep your son company. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have come here in the first place.”
The archdeacon leaned back slightly, smirking. “It seems I underestimated the gypsies’ intelligence.”
Kadar laughed as he felt his brother jog up behind him. Desmond greeted him whole-heartedly as he looked at the archdeacon.
“No, you underestimated my intelligence. I’m not stupid. I know that you know where we hide, and I know that Desmond lives a good life. A confined life, but I can adapt. I’m gonna save my own skin while I can—and laugh when the others are killed.”
The archdeacon frowned, folding his arms as Desmond hugged Malik tightly. Kadar smirked.
Archdeacon Miles scowled, leaning in. “Don’t you dare lead my son off the path of righteousness.”
Kadar smiled innocently. “I won’t. I just want to be happy, and I’m certain that Desmond will make me happy.”
There was silence for a moment before the archdeacon sighed. “Very well. I suppose I’ll have to trust you’ll take good care of him in case I die?”
“Naturally. Oh, and let me give you some advice about Adha.”
The archdeacon looked surprised.
“She’s not unreasonable,” Kadar said. “Separate her from the pack, and she regains her sensibilities. I’m sure if you explain to her that the best way to save Altair is through a marriage to you, she’ll see the truth in it. Don’t worry.” He smiled again. “And she’s the loyal type. She’d never admit it, but she’d totally bang someone like you. I’ve seen her do it before.”
Archdeacon Miles stepped back slightly. “W-what?”
Kadar beamed, patting Desmond’s arm and kissing his cheek when that healthy, child-like visage was turned upon him. He started leading him and Malik inside, shouting over his shoulder, “If you encounter any problems, come talk to me, handsome!”
He let Desmond lead them up to his little tower, and he heard Malik fall behind him. He knew his brother knew all of this already. Both of them were sick of Altair’s antics, fueled by Adha’s goading and everyone’s blind praise. They knew they would be safe here, and Kadar got the sneaky suspicion that his brother liked Desmond, too.
The boy was kind; the boy was friendly, and the boy was a hard worker. Okay, so he had a bad scar or two. That didn’t matter. Desmond was still better than everyone in Paris put together. And as the man limped around to tidy up the place, offering the bed until Kadar insisted that all three could sleep on the bed meant to hold maybe two. But, he just wanted to cuddle, which Desmond seemed more than happy to do. As he settled in for the night, he realized this might have been the best decision of his life.
OKay! We're getting there! Sorry it took so long for an update. I wanted to finish it, but then that other anon reviewed, and I realized it really had been a long time since I updated, and I didn't want to keep you guys waiting... anyway, I hope you two enjoyed. No gargoyles, but plenty of traitors and good fathers. <3 Lemme know what you thought, even if you thought it was terrible!
The Hunchback of Notre Dame pt6
The creature stood up, looking so utterly gleeful as she watched a blue-eyed boy jog ahead of Altair.
“I’ll take him, and take him home. I’ll stay with him to make sure he doesn’t say anything.”
“Are you sure, Kadar?” the orange man asked.
“I’m positive, Gilberto. Let me have him.”
Maria couldn’t believe someone had willing taken that creature.
And Kadar couldn’t believe that bitch would say that Desmond needed to die. He smiled as he hopped onto the platform. The boy was on his feet, pressing a doll into his hands—two, actually. He looked at them and realized that they were exact replicas of him and his brother. He laughed, kissing the boy on the cheek.
“Do you want to go home?” he signed flawlessly after handing him the dolls back.
“How do you know how to sign?” the man signed in response after hurriedly tucking the dolls into the pouch.
Kadar smiled. “I learned in a foreign country. The sign language that your master taught you is not so different from the kind in Spain that they use.”
He laughed as Desmond’s jaw dropped. Kadar couldn’t deny he was irreversibly attracted to the kid, ever since he first met him in the tent, and he supposed that the scars were supposed to make him ugly, but he had always had a thing for a heroic, strong man with a kind heart. That had been the only thing stopping him from going after Altair, the kind heart. He figured that Desmond would be the best man he could be with, then. He hugged Desmond back, then turned to look at Gilberto.
“His life is mine. I’ll take him back to the church and make sure he doesn’t say anything.”
He noticed the guard’s surprised expression, and he smiled innocently. He didn’t know why Gilberto was so paranoid about traitors outside the ranks. He should be more concerned about traitors within the ranks.
And Kadar had had about enough of Gilberto’s reign.
He linked his arm with Desmond’s as he led the boy off the platform, out of the catacombs and into the streets. The boy was bubbly and merry, talking to him all about his little house and how he had missed him. He had missed him from the first day he saw him, apparently.
That made Kadar happy. He had never been missed as his own person before.
Since, Desmond rambled on and on, pulling out the dolls to show him again and beaming from the praise he gave him. He knew he made the right decision. Here he would be free, with this boy, instead of under Gilberto’s oppressive rule. He was going to be safe, too, from the inevitable death that the others would suffer at the Archdeacon’s hands. He was sick of having to check in and checkout whenever he would leave, of the senseless murder of innocents that Gilberto seemed to favor. He was sick of the starving life—and he knew that Desmond was well fed in the tower. And if he went deaf, too, he would do so gladly—especially after Gilberto had the nerve to tell him he was worthless as a gypsy, when he brought in more money than Altair. He was a better dancer, too. He was finally free.
As they approached the gates of the church, they were met by Archdeacon Miles, who arched an eyebrow.
“Well, this is an unexpected turn of events, but I can’t say I’m entirely surprised,” the man said, and Kadar smiled innocently.
“I know which side will win. You can’t fool me, and I know you won’t slay me—even if I never call sanctuary, because you know that I’ll stay here and keep your son company. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have come here in the first place.”
The archdeacon leaned back slightly, smirking. “It seems I underestimated the gypsies’ intelligence.”
Kadar laughed as he felt his brother jog up behind him. Desmond greeted him whole-heartedly as he looked at the archdeacon.
“No, you underestimated my intelligence. I’m not stupid. I know that you know where we hide, and I know that Desmond lives a good life. A confined life, but I can adapt. I’m gonna save my own skin while I can—and laugh when the others are killed.”
The archdeacon frowned, folding his arms as Desmond hugged Malik tightly. Kadar smirked.
Archdeacon Miles scowled, leaning in. “Don’t you dare lead my son off the path of righteousness.”
Kadar smiled innocently. “I won’t. I just want to be happy, and I’m certain that Desmond will make me happy.”
There was silence for a moment before the archdeacon sighed. “Very well. I suppose I’ll have to trust you’ll take good care of him in case I die?”
“Naturally. Oh, and let me give you some advice about Adha.”
The archdeacon looked surprised.
“She’s not unreasonable,” Kadar said. “Separate her from the pack, and she regains her sensibilities. I’m sure if you explain to her that the best way to save Altair is through a marriage to you, she’ll see the truth in it. Don’t worry.” He smiled again. “And she’s the loyal type. She’d never admit it, but she’d totally bang someone like you. I’ve seen her do it before.”
Archdeacon Miles stepped back slightly. “W-what?”
Kadar beamed, patting Desmond’s arm and kissing his cheek when that healthy, child-like visage was turned upon him. He started leading him and Malik inside, shouting over his shoulder, “If you encounter any problems, come talk to me, handsome!”
He let Desmond lead them up to his little tower, and he heard Malik fall behind him. He knew his brother knew all of this already. Both of them were sick of Altair’s antics, fueled by Adha’s goading and everyone’s blind praise. They knew they would be safe here, and Kadar got the sneaky suspicion that his brother liked Desmond, too.
The boy was kind; the boy was friendly, and the boy was a hard worker. Okay, so he had a bad scar or two. That didn’t matter. Desmond was still better than everyone in Paris put together. And as the man limped around to tidy up the place, offering the bed until Kadar insisted that all three could sleep on the bed meant to hold maybe two. But, he just wanted to cuddle, which Desmond seemed more than happy to do. As he settled in for the night, he realized this might have been the best decision of his life.
OKay! We're getting there! Sorry it took so long for an update. I wanted to finish it, but then that other anon reviewed, and I realized it really had been a long time since I updated, and I didn't want to keep you guys waiting... anyway, I hope you two enjoyed. No gargoyles, but plenty of traitors and good fathers. <3 Lemme know what you thought, even if you thought it was terrible!