Prelude: The Age of the Cathedrals


It was a beautiful day; surprisingly warm for autumn, with only the slightest of breezes. The sun shone on the water and made it sparkle as if it was made of crystal glass. But far more beautiful, than the river, was Notre Dame herself.

The Magnificent Cathedral towered over everything else in sight, and demanded attention. For many years she had stood vigil over Paris, and yet something was missing. Notre Dame was not the same.

In past years, the extravagant building had seen many monstrosities, but it seemed the latest one, had changed her forever. The bells of Notre Dame no longer rang out for joy; for they had lost their ringer. Nothing was as it should be. The world was Topsy Tirvy.

No longer did the gypsies dance in the streets, or beggars beg near the church. No longer did the Court of Miracles remain safe from harm. Notre Dame was vulnerable, and scared. She missed her Hunchback, and the joy he brought her. But sadly she would never see Quasimodo again.

The Bell-Ringer was gone.


Two figures walked through the streets of the city, hand in hand. Their world had been turned upside down, and yet they were still standing. They had lost loved ones, and many friends, and yet they still lived.

The man and woman, who walked together, would have once danced and sung in the town square, but now, they remained silent as they trudged to their destination.

But as they neared the towering Cathedral the woman stopped to stare at the stained glass windows solemnly.

The man, her other half, followed her gaze. "Shall we pay Her one more visit chérie?"

The woman nodded, "We must."

The two climbed the giant stone steps of Notre Dame, and sat at the very top, looking towards the building itself. Though they both loved Her, they had come to hate the dark looming cathedral, and what people thought she stood for.

The woman looked to her husband and smiled wistfully. "Will you sing us a song, Poet Gringoire?"

The handsome man cocked his head to the side, and smiled at his wife. "With pleasure, Mademoiselle Vadoma. But is it that I am meant to sing?"

"The song, you sang the day we met." The woman replied.

Gringoire chuckled, "I've sung it plenty of times. Would you not prefer something special, as our parting gift to Notre Dame?"

Vadoma shook her head. "Nay, Pierre. For the song you sang the day we met, brought all of us together. And it is on that note, we shall depart."

The bard, who was usually playful, looked at his wife seriously. "But you have lost everyone. Will it not hurt you to remember?"

"The only way to move on, my love, is to remember the past." The woman returned, in a sort of daze. "Come, I will sing it with you. And then let us say our goodbyes."

Pierre Gringoire pulled his wife to his side, nuzzling her tenderly as he began to sing.

"This is a tale that takes its place, in Paris fair, this year of grace.

Fourteen hundred eighty two: A tale of lust and love so true.

We are the artists of the time, we dream in sculpture dream in rhyme.

For you we bring our world alive, so something will survive."

As Vadoma began to sing along with her husband, she remembered the past, and all the people that had been lost. She remembered: Djali the lovely little goat, Esmeralda the Gypsy Dancer, Clopin Trouillefou the King of the Court of Miracles, and the shy bell-ringer Quasimodo.

They were all gone now. And yet she still remembered.

"From nowhere came the age of the cathedrals.

The old world began.

A new unknown, thousand years.

For man just has to climb up where the stars are, and live beyond life.

Live in glass and live in stone."

As the two of their voices entwined around the words, they looked up to Notre Dame and both cried. They had lost so much. . . But they would make it right, for the ones who had died. . .

"Stone after stone, day after day; from year to year man had his way.

Men had built with faith and love. These cathedrals rose above.

We troubadours and poets sing. That love is all and everything.

We promise you, all human kind. Tomorrow will be fine.

From nowhere came the age of the cathedrals.

The old world began.

A new unknown, thousand years.

For man just has to climb up where the stars are.

And live beyond life.

Live in glass and live in stone. . .

From nowhere came the age of the cathedrals.

The old world began.

A new unknown thousand years.

For man just has to climb up where the stars are.

And live beyond life.

Live in glass and live in stone. . .

But it is doomed the age of the cathedrals.

Barbarians wait.

At the gates of Paris fair.

Oh let them in, these pagans and these vandals.

A wise man once said.

In two thousand, this world ends.

In two thousand, this world ends."


"They found among all those hideous carcasses, two skeletons, one of which held the other in its embrace. One of these skeletons, which was that of a woman, still had a few strips of a garment which had once been white.

The other, which held this one in a close embrace, was the skeleton of a man. It was noticed that his spinal column was crooked, his head seated on his shoulder blades, and that one leg was shorter than the other. Moreover, there was no fracture of the vertebrae at the nape of the neck, and it was evident that he had not been hanged. Hence, the man to whom it had belonged had come thither and had died there. When they tried to detach the skeleton which he held in his embrace, he fell to dust." – Notre Dame de Paris, Victor Hugo.


Hey guys! I finally bucked up and decided to write a fic for Notre Dame de Paris the Musical! Oh. My. Gosh. This musical equals love! I can't get enough of it! *squeals like the fangirl I am*

Anyway, the quotes are from the musical and the original novel by Victor Hugo. There will also be a little of Disney's version in here too! I'm totally mixing them all together! *woop woop*

This story is Gringoire/OC based, but will also have some Esmeralda/Quasimodo, just because we love it so much! *gush gush* I don't know how long this fic will be, but hopefully, I can make a nice little story out of it! Thanks guys!

~Lyn Harkeran