Once Upon a Time 1. Chapter 1

Long ago the walls became the symbol of his life's monotony. The white bricks layered, built up to stand united as an impenetrable structure, quickly made him feel isolated, as he was. The days were fluid, moving into each other with nothing new to face, completely uniform, and blurred together, making it impossible to tell if the day was Thursday or Saturday. There was, though, one marking of his days. It was never regular, always seemingly sporadic, but it was how he counted time. It's been 62 days, it's been 97 days. The hope that it inspired raised him from his pillow every morning and made it possible for him to continue his job.

Heels clicked down the hallway, and he looked up from the floor, breath caught in his lungs, just behind his teeth, stifling his tongue. Every day, he went to the hospital, pulled by hope from his house, and every day he mopped the floor, cleaned the walls sterile-white, and changed the sheets of the patient who had been kept locked away for as long as he could remember, and every day he waited for that sound. As she walked by, his head instinctively followed her, eyes drinking in her gorgeous appearance, ears lulled by the sound of heels rhythmically hitting the floor. And she never noticed. And she never looked at him. And she never spoke. But he knew her voice was as beautiful as she was. Even her name was beautiful. He had once caught it as the staff nurse down the hallway greeted her, plucking it from the still air as it dangled in front of him. "Hello Regina."

The bells rang again, indicating a new day begun in the middle of the night. A sigh penetrated the silence of the room, and a bed creaked as its inhabitant turned on her side. The day had been laden with the burden of travel, and Regina still felt as if the uneven carriage wheels rolled under her. She was growing increasingly melancholy through all of their travels from kingdom to kingdom, palace to palace, laying in guest room beds instead of her own and missing the familiarity of waking up to look at her own ceiling.

Prince Henry watched in exhaustion as Cora got into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, all the while smiling and looking directly ahead of her. He knew she was peering into a world beyond theirs, where she was the mother of an all-powerful queen, living vicariously through her daughter. He hadn't rested easily in the past five years as Cora dragged her daughter from place to place, chasing after kings that he knew Regina would never love. But to make matters worse, Regina was utterly ignorant of her mother's motives, believing in inert good beyond a measure he had ever seen. He sighed as the bells began to strike twelve.

King George paced the length of his room, which quickly tired him out due to its size. He couldn't get the image of her out of his head. She was gorgeous. She was more than gorgeous. And he was interested, more than interested. As the bells rang powerfully, he wondered how he could possibly lure her into marrying him. He needed her now, and couldn't understand how she had not been snatched up yet. And her name seemed to pull him in closer as Cora introduced him when she stepped out of the carriage. "And this is my daughter Regina," she said as King George stared in infatuation. Eyebrows furrowed, he looked into his mirror, trying to formulate a way to corner her alone tomorrow, if only to chat with her as an excuse to behold her beauty.

As the last bell finished its triumphant ring, he swung over to the nearest rafter, quickly grabbing the base in a swift crouch. The bell tower was now silent, and the air was pleasantly warm. He hopped to the nearest stain glass window, twenty feet high and eight feet wide, and watched the moon and star light penetrate the window, lighting it up in magnificent color. Reds and blues shined on his face, which as deformed as it was, seemed ethereal in the light. He sighed in longing. For months now he felt as if a piece of his life had been taken from him, although nothing had changed. He began to long for human interaction beyond the walls of the castle, and it weighed heavily on him. He had heard though that visitors were at the palace, an occasion which hadn't occurred in a long time, and his spirits had brightened for that moment, until he remember his hunched back and his awkward gait. He sighed when he thought of his name, always said in distain by others, and now solemnly whispered by himself, "Quasimodo."


	2. Chapter 2

The earliest light, the first rays that peak over the horizon, was the highlight of Quasimodo's life since he was a boy. Nothing in his lonesome bell tower was as stunning as that light. As he watched it come up the next day, his head buzzed with ideas. He hadn't slept that night, he couldn't shake the feeling of restlessness. It was beginning to gnaw away at him so that he was entranced by the thought of freedom. Quasi looked to his left as he heard stone hit stone. Although the sight of the newly awakened gargoyle trio, consisting of Laverne, Victor and Hugo, usually put a smile on his face, he looked back out to the sun as he stood high above the town on the roof of the palace.

Laverne put up her hand upon seeing Quasi's face to halt the other two. They were, as usual, bickering, about what she did not know. Once they spotted her hand though, they silenced themselves and looked beyond it to see Quasi. The sun lit up his demented features that in such virgin light seemed somehow beautiful. For years she had watched this boy grow alone in this bell tower, and she knew his every hope, wish and aspiration. They used to be simple, like learning how to make the bells sound clearer as he rang them, or how to carve the hands of the figurines he loved so much so that their fingers were lifelike. But he was older now, and he wanted something that she could not help him with as she had been able to do with everything else – freedom.

"You know," she began as she hopped forward, eventually stopping at his side and looking up at him, "today is the day you always look forward to, the Festival of Fools."

"Yeah," Quasi responded solemnly, "but I don't want to watch it this year."

Laverne shrugged, "Have you ever thought about going there instead?" Hugo and Victor were now on the other side of Quasi, and Hugo nudged him.

"Yeah Quasi, think of the fun it would be! The music, the wine, oh! the girls," Hugo said with a wink, "I always said you were a lady-killer."

Victor nodded, "Yes, who wouldn't love a guy like you?" They all smiled at Quasi in the hopes that he would respond positively. He only continued to watch the sunrise. His thoughts reeled as his appearance stayed calm. Of course he had thought about going, but they would never accept him. He had never forgotten what King George used to tell him when he was a boy. He was ugly, deformed – a monster. All he wanted now was to meet new people, get away from this bell tower. He looked down at his constant friends. This was his chance, and he would not shy away now, not when it was so easy, so perfect.

* * *

"Mother, I just got up, and am in no state to see anyone, especially the king," Regina insisted after Cora had told her of the King George's request to meet her at breakfast.

"But my love, we are a guest in his home, his palace, and it would be rude to refuse his invitation," Cora retorted as Regina sunk back onto her bed in defeat. Of all of the kings she had ever had to have a meal with, King George was the least of which she wanted to be around. He was so awkward when they had met, not saying a word, as if flabbergasted by something. He looked at her in an odd way, one that she had never quite seen before, but instinctively she knew that she didn't like it – it was too unsettling. She looked down at her lap, sighed, looked over to her side, and saw herself gazing back at her through a mirror. The person looking back at her was strange, familiar yet foreign. She didn't have the same spirited glow that she once did, back when the journeys began and she felt fresh. Now she felt worn out, tired, and unhappy. But, what else was there for her to do? Be free? How? Not with her mother, not with the magic that always seemed to entrap her as she tasted freedom on the air around her lips.

"What do you think I should wear? The blue dress has gone threadbare from all of the breakfasts it's seen in these past several years, and it seems childish now that I'm older," Regina said to dismiss her more somber thoughts. Cora smiled in approval and opened Regina's wardrobe with a simple gesture of her hand, and the two skimmed through the clothing to find something suitable for breakfast with a king.

* * *

Looking at the plate in front of him, King George contemplated his course of action. What would he say? What could he ask? All of this had to arouse the least bit of suspicion. He could not let on how deeply entranced he was by her, it would more than likely be off-putting to such a young, beautiful girl. As he thought, he was interrupted by the throat-clearing of a hesitant servant, followed by, "The young woman, Regina, is waiting in the other room." King George nodded fervently and waved his hand in the air while commanding, "Yes, yes, bring her in, I am ready." The servant bowed slightly, and upon returning, was accompanied by Regina. She was dressed in a white with beading that radiated the way she appeared to. King George tried not to stare at her as she approached him, eventually curtsying several feet in front of him, which tempted every nerve in his body to advance and simply touch her dress, her hand, anything that was part of her being. Yet, he remained in his seat, dipped his head, and cleared his throat.

"Very nice to formally meet you Regina. It was very late when you arrived, and I think we were both a bit too tired for a proper introduction," he began as Regina took her seat to his left. She smiled softly and nodded, but did not respond. He looked around quickly in desperation, nervous at the fact that she did not reply. Did he say the wrong thing? Quickly, though, he regained his composure as the meal was placed before them.

"So, how was your trip here? Long I assume," he asked. He looked at her for any sign of appreciation of his attention or happiness from his company, but found none. All he could find was a longing in her eyes, and of what he did not know.

"Yes, the trip was long, but it was alright. We took the main road so it was smooth and scenic," Regina responded, trailing off by the end. She seemed as if she did not know what to say. King George began to worry that he was giving off a bad impression. He looked at her more closely as she looked at her plate and averted his gaze. Her lips were beautiful and shone in the light cascading through the window, the sun was caught in her raven hair, her eyes reflected the beauty that was evident at a single glance. He realized that it didn't matter what she said or how she reacted. What mattered was that she would be his, and his alone.

Silence made the air still, and tension rose between the two. But King George no longer cared, because he had now resolved to make Regina his. He knew she and her parents had been traveling the lands for years, and it seemed in search of a husband, as well as a king. He had everything to offer Regina – power, wealth, status, and he knew that was all Cora wanted. As he delved deeper into his thoughts of determination, he was interrupted by the servant. King George furrowed his brows as the servant described a commotion in the bell tower.

"Sir, we have not seen the bell ringer since last night when I brought up his meal. We have searched the palace but cannot seem to find him," the servant relayed. As King George sat silently in thought of what to do about this problem, Regina quickly glanced at the servant. Why would the servant have to "bring up" the bell ringer's meal? Didn't he eat with everyone else? The servant leaned in more closely to King George and said, "Need I remind you of the urgency? It would be a disaster if Cora and her family saw his deformity." King George waved his hand in the air frantically to dismiss the servant. Regina had heard everything though. Deformity? Who could this mysterious bell ringer possibly be?

After a strenuous hour with King George where little was said and little was eaten, Regina was finally dismissed.

"Thank you for sitting with me Regina," King George said with a slight bow, "but now I have other matters to attend to."

Regina smiled politely as King George walked away. As soon as he had turned a corner and she was alone, she spun around and ran to find her room. The servants might not be able to find this bell ringer, but she could. And she instinctively knew that he wasn't in the palace. If she was a bell ringer, kept in a tower for who knows how long, she would not escape to the palace. She would escape to the outside world. She would be free.


End file.
