Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ These Bells That Ring ❯ These Bells That Ring 1/? ( Chapter 1 )

It occurred to me that some people may have not read `The Hunchback of Notre Dame' (lucky you!) and may not be familiar with the cast of characters. So I decided to list the main characters in the story and the GW characters that will be playing them.

Heero Yuy - Phoebus de Chateaupers (Fleur-de-Lys' fiancé.)

Heero: Fleur-de-WHO? : Glances to the bottom of the list: NO! You can't do this to me! Anyone but HER!

Yellowhorde: Sorry, Heero, don't blame me! It's Victor Hugo's fault!

Heero: Omae O Korosu!

Duo: Hey, Heero, I think the guy is already dead.

Heero: As well he should be.

Duo Maxwell - Quasimodo (the hunchback of Notre Dame)

Duo: Hunchback? What are you, blind?

Yellowhorde: Quasimodo was my favorite character! He may have been butt ugly but he had a heart of gold. You should be honored. Besides, it could be worse. : Grins evilly: Just ask Quatre!

Trowa Barton - Clopin Trouillefou (King of the Gypsies)

Trowa: …

Yellowhorde: That's what I thought.

Quatre Raberba Winner - Djali (the goat)

Quatre: WHAT? You have me playing a GOAT? What kind of sick weirdo are you?

Yellowhorde: No, you are taking the place of the goat. You will still be human! Besides, you are so much cuter than some smell barnyard animal! : Ruffles hair affectionately: Besides, it was either assign you the goat's part or leave you out of the story entirely.

Quatre: I think I would rather be left out of the story.

Yellowhorde: *whaps Quatre with a rolled up newspaper* Bad goat! BAD!

Wufei Chang - Esmerelda (the Gypsy dancing girl)

Wufei: You have me playing the part of a GIRL? I thought I was your favorite! How could you do this to me?

Yellowhorde: You are my favorite! And since everyone in this story seems to love Esmerelda, I thought it would be a perfect role for you.

Wufei: INJUSTICE!

Yellowhorde: Another word out of you, Wufei, and I'll make you wear a dress!

Wufei: EEP!

Heero: Does `EEP' count as a word?

Duo: Let's hope so! I'd love to see Wufei in a skirt! *snickers*

Wufei: YUY! MAXWELL! Have you no honor?

Zechs Merquise - Pierre Gringoire (poet/play write and friend of Dom Claude Frollo)

Zechs: Um…excuse me…but wasn't my character…*ahem*…infatuated with the goat?

Yellowhorde: Well…yes…but in my story the goat is human and being played by

Quatre. So there shouldn't be any problems, should there?

Zechs: You mean you're actually pairing the two of us together? *Lecherous grin*

Quatre: Talk about your non-traditional pairings! ^^'

Dorothy Catalonia - Jahannes de Molendino (brother to Dom Claude Frollo)

Dorothy: Hel-lo! I'm a girl! See, I have breasts! You really must be blind!

Yellowhorde: So you do. Okay…so you'll now be Treize's sister instead of his brother.

Let's face it; you guys just HAVE to be related! Just look at the eyebrows!

Treize Khushrenada - Dom Claude Frollo de Tirechappe (Archdeacon of Notre Dame Cathedral)

Yellowhorde: What? No smart-alecky comments?

Treize: No, I think you've cast me perfectly. One question. Can I have Wufei when the story is finished?

Yellowhorde: Sure! Help yourself! I'd love a little 13x5 action!

Wufei: o.O

Relena Peacecraft - Fleur-de-Lys de Gondelaurier (Phoebus' fiancé.)

Relena: Oh, Heero! You see? We are fated to be together!

Heero: I'm outta here! : Runs away fast:

Yellowhorde: Oh, no, you don't! : Grabs the fleeing Heero by the scruff of the neck and tosses him next to Relena who immediately glomps him.

Relena: OH HEEEEERO!

Everyone: Oh, brother!

Now that I've gotten THAT out of my system, On to the story!

THESE BELLS THAT RING

Chapter 1

Paris, France. January 6, 1482

Pulling his muffler more firmly around his head and neck, Quatre hefted his violin case and hurried after Wufei who was several paces ahead of him. The hour was late, the night quite raw and the weary musician was anxious for a hot meal and his bed. White vaporous clouds formed with each breath he exhaled and his cheeks and nose were red with cold.

The streets of Paris were narrow, crowded, and they twisted and turned in a hundred different directions with no rhyme or reason and apparently little or no planning. The city was a labyrinth; one huge confusing puzzle for anyone but a native and it would not do to loose his way. The city would probably swallow him up whole never to be seen again if he did have the misfortune of getting lost.

As he hurried to catch up with his friend and fellow performer, Quatre couldn't help but admire the sprawling expanse of sky above his head. The night was clear and very cold and thousands of tiny glittering diamonds twinkled in the vast expanse of darkness. But while they offered beauty, they were cold and indifferent. They provided no warmth, no comfort, and the youth wondered morosely how something as spectacular and awe inspiring as the heavens could make him feel so small, so insignificant…so lonely.

He ached for the warm breezes of spring, longed to stroll through green fields that stretched out far and wide. He dreamed of the mountains of his youth with their wild and rugged beauty. Paris was full of life and possibilities and bursting with the energy that only thousands of people in one large expanse of land could produce, but it was not home. It would never be home. And it was home that Quatre dreamed of, his home with its familiar people and customs, foods, clothes, and traditions.

Despite its beauty and allure, Paris hid a face of hostility and mistrust for those who wandered footloose and fancy-free from one city to the next, for those who loved, lived, danced and sang with such freedom and abandonment. The citizens held much fear and contempt for all peoples strange and foreign. They distrusted and persecuted Quatre's people and horrible stories of kidnapping, thievery, deceit and sorcery were spread and exaggerated and more than a few of his friends and fellow Gypsies had fallen pray to the hangman's noose on account of false accusations of witchcraft.

Quatre shivered, but not from the cold, and cast a wary glance behind him. He was alarmed to see that the tall man he had noticed earlier that evening was still dogging their every move. He remembered the man well enough for he had been watching their earlier performance with open wonderment. The stranger was very handsome with finely chiseled features and long, beautiful blond hair that fell well to the middle of his back. His eyes, as Quatre recalled, had been a compelling shade of blue accented by thick lashes a shade or two darker than his hair. His coat and other garments, though not particularly expensive, were of excellent quality and showed little sign of wear. Apparently he was a man of taste and distinction. So why was he following them?

Catching up to his friend, Quatre announced abruptly, "That guy from earlier is still following us, Wufei."

"Is that so?"

Wufei stopped abruptly and turned in the direction his partner was pointing in and Quatre felt his breath catch in his throat as he was once more taken aback by how handsome the Oriental was. With large black eyes that glittered like the stars, ebony hair that fell free just above his shoulders, and golden tinted skin, he appearance was indeed striking and exotic. He was slender, certainly not tall by any definition of the word, and he moved with a grace, an elegance that could not be disguised even by the bulk of his winter garments. His hands and feet were small and delicate, his torso and limbs thin but quite muscular, and when he danced before the crowds, ebony hair twirling and eyes flashing black fire, it was like watching an angel or some other supernatural creature. The audience would watch in silent wonder, trapped by the magic of the dance. Many people, men and women alike, would have called him beautiful though Wufei no doubt would have taken offense at the use of such a feminine word.

Wufei peered down the alley to where the stranger was standing, apparently greatly interested in the condition of his cuticles. He could be heard whistling faintly, with an air of forced nonchalance. Rolling his eyes in disgust, the dark haired youth turned sharply on his heels and continued on his way. Quatre could hear him muttering under his breath.

"Who does he think he's fooling with that ridiculous act?" He scoffed, "What an amateur!"

Casting a nervous glance over his shoulder, Quatre asked, "You're just going to ignore him? What if he's a thief? Or a murderer? Or worse?" Though the innocent Quatre could not conceive of anything worse than death, he instinctively knew that such things probably did exist.

Wufei laughed shortly, but it lacked warmth and there was no humor in the depths of his black eyes as he snarled, "Then he should certainly like the company we keep."

Wufei sighed and turning his head, offered a reassuring smile to his friend, "Don't worry, Quatre, I know a short cut. Just follow me!"

With that Wufei broke into a run and Quatre dutifully followed, trusting his partner to find a way out of a potentially awkward, if not dangerous, situation. They heard the mysterious stranger give a shout of surprise, but then they had rounded the corner and were temporarily out of sight. Speeding along the streets, they took a left then a right, as Wufei weaved expertly through the maze-like streets with his friend in close pursuit.

Suddenly, Quatre saw hands shoot out of the shadows and gave a breathy shriek as he was seized roughly. He caught a fleeting glimpse of a black hooded figure and eyes that blazed with unholy fire in the dim light that filtered down from one of the windows high above them before one hand clamped over his mouth, stifling further outcry. Frantically the boy thrashed and wiggled but a voice hissed into his ear, "Be still, or you die." Turquoise eyes bulging in terror, he felt the cruel unyielding edge of a blade pressed against his throat and immediately ceased his struggles though he continued to shiver from reaction.

At Quatre's cry Wufei had whirled around in mid-stride determined to come to the aid of his fellow performer but, unfortunately, this left his back exposed to an unknown, unnamed threat. Massive arms emerged from the gloom and wrapped about his torso, successfully pinning his arms to his side. Abruptly he was jerked about until he came face to face with a grossly deformed shadow and though the light was not sufficient enough to make out features he quickly ascertained that the creature was inhumanly strong for despite all of his desperate struggles, Wufei was unable to break free.

"Unhand me at once!" Wufei roared as he was slung over his attacker's shoulder as easily as a sack of grain. Dangling upside down, the blood began to rush to the youth's head turning a face red with anger redder still. Wildly he kicked and beat his fists against the broad back of his mysterious assailant drawing forth only the mildest grunt as his foot collided with a solid jaw. Unfortunately, this did not faze the scoundrel in the least bit.

The two figures exchanged a knowing glance before simultaneously turning and heading deeper into the alley when suddenly Quatre saw the tall blond that had been trailing earlier come hurtling around the corner. Apparently, the stranger had heard his cry and had decided it best to intervene. All hope was not lost yet!

Never once pausing the stranger raced towards the nearest ruffian who held the still struggling Wufei over his shoulders. "Release those two immediately, you brutes!" He yelled as he raised his fist to deliver a forceful blow. Unfortunately, he never had a chance. Wufei's abductor turned almost lazily and with a casual swing of his arm, crashed one mighty fist into the would-be rescuer's jaw, which sent the poor fellow crashing back against the wall with an audible thud as his head came into painful contact with the unyielding brick. With a moan, the dazed man slid to the damp earth as his legs buckled and refused to support his weight any longer. Valiantly he lurched as if to regain his footing but he staggered and fell once more to the ground, unconscious.

Suddenly the sound of hoof beats and the rhythmic clanging of metal could be faintly heard causing a dizzy Wufei to raise his head expectantly. Cunning and streetwise by nature and necessity, he understood what that meant and was mildly surprised that he would be pleased to hear those familiar sounds. It was a city patrol, which roamed the streets of Paris at regular intervals searching for lawbreakers and Gypsy scum out past the curfew.

Sucking in a deep breath, Wufei opened his mouth and bellowed at the top of his lungs. "Help! Murder!"

Within seconds the patrol was upon them! There were five foot soldiers carrying wicked looking blades that glittered blue in the dim light of the moon and stars and one man, apparently the captain of the group, sat calmly astride a dappled stallion of massive proportions. He wore armor similar to that of the soldiers, but it was the color of gold and obviously custom made while his underlings were mismatched and ill fitting. The steed pranced and tossed his head eagerly as it was edged forward.

"Release those two men immediately!" The captain ordered in a voice that demanded immediate cooperation. The foot soldiers surged forward, brandishing their swords in a menacing manner.

Quatre felt the blade withdrawn from his throat then he was abruptly shoved away and fell sprawling to his knees in the cold mud as his attacker released him and fled into the night. Scrambling to his feet, he saw the other fellow unceremoniously dump Wufei to the ground but instead of fleeing he stood his ground against the advancing troops. He fought well and managed to keep the soldiers at bay for several moments but strong though he may be, he was greatly outnumbered and it was not long before he was beaten into submission. Metal shackles were snapped onto arms and legs and the beast was dragged away muttering curses and oaths in a thick, angry voice.

The captain dismounted his steed and stepping over to Wufei, offered his hand to the ebony haired youth. Warily he accepted it and gasped as he felt the large hand close over his, engulfing his smaller hand as easily as an adult's would the hand of a child. The captain's palms and fingers were warm and calloused from years of sword fighting. And they were strong, so very strong. But they were also gentle and did not seek to crush small bones or to bruise tender flesh. With the help of the soldier Wufei regained his footing and yet oddly did not feel disgust at having accepted an enemy's assistance.

The two stood and stared at each other for many moments, taking silent measure of each other. They were natural enemies - one a soldier of the king, the other a persecuted member of the Gypsy clan.

As if in a trance Wufei gazed in open, childlike wonder at the man before him and was not certain if he were dreaming or had taken a blow to his head as he had fallen. It must be so because it was no man who stood before him but an angel, a creature of light and beauty that had come to his rescue in a moment of crisis. The captain had removed his helmet to reveal a wild unruly mass of thick brown hair and a pair of spectacular blue eyes that seemed to pierce the younger man's very soul. His face was handsome, his complexion fair and when he offered a small smile it was as if the sun itself had shattered the night.

"Are you all right?" the soldier asked as Wufei dropped his gaze to hide the flush that swept over his cheeks.

"I…we are fine now, thanks to you."

The captain's gaze hardened as he watched the criminal being dragged away. "Rest assured, he will trouble you no longer. It's a pity his accomplice got away though."

Wufei glanced over to where Quatre was leaning over the still figure that had attempted to help them. Catching his questioning look, the young musician nodded his head and offered a brilliant smile. The stranger was apparently alive and would recover consciousness in no time. Then, with the grace of a feline, Quatre stood and motioned towards the now deserted street with a jerk of his head and cast nervous eyes upon the soldier. The meaning was all too clear. He appreciated the help, but now it was time to leave this place.

Abruptly Wufei nodded his head and recalled that although the captain had saved both him and Quatre, he was a soldier first and foremost, and soldiers as a general rule did not care much for Gypsies. Quatre was right to be a bit suspicious. It was better to leave now before the questions - and accusations - started.

"What is your name, soldier?"

Pulling himself to his full height, the captain replied, "Yuy. My name is Captain Heero Yuy."

"Well, Heero Yuy, you have my gratitude. And I am in your debt."

With that Wufei turned and as quick as lightning the two Gypsies fled and were swallowed by the night.

Heero Yuy played the scene over and over again in his mind as he pulled himself into the saddle. Who were those strange men? By the style of their clothes, they were obviously with the band of Gypsies that infested the town. And why had they been attacked? They had at least one of the attackers in custody. With any luck they would have the answers to the questions that buzzed through his mind like an annoying mosquito. Absently taking up the reins and urging his stallion onwards he realized he never got the name of the young man with the raven hair and midnight eyes. It was a pity, but deep in his heart, Heero knew that they would meet again.

To Be Continued…

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