**The Dream of Motherhood**

Prompt: Hunchback of Norte dame fanfiction Esmeralda has the same dream every night a woman who tells her to build a church troubled by this she talks to the bishop the bishop tells her to ask the woman who she is the next Esmeralda does this and the woman tells her that she is the immaculate conception that’s when Esmeralda realizes the woman is Mary Esmeralda asks her why she chose her someone who is unloved by god but Mary tells her she is loved

Every night, Esmeralda was awakened by the same haunting dream. The soft light of dawn was always transformed into the warm glow of a distant sanctuary where she met a woman wrapped in ethereal light, her features both familiar and foreign, the embodiment of grace itself. At first, Esmeralda had thought little of these dreams, dismissing them as figments of her imagination. But as the days turned into weeks, the woman’s persistent presence took root in her heart, urging her to listen closely. It was as if this figure was calling out to her, whispering secrets meant only for her. Troubled by the importance of the visions, Esmeralda sought solace in the elegant stone walls of Notre-Dame, its gargoyles watching her with their stony indifference. This time, she had to speak with the Bishop, a man known for his wisdom but also his rigid beliefs. “Bishop,” she addressed him with a slight tremor in her voice as she entered his austere chamber, “I have been troubled by dreams. Night after night, I see a woman who tells me I must build a church.” The Bishop regarded her with a raised brow, his fingers steepled as he considered her words. “You should explore the source of these dreams, my child. Ask the woman who she is. Only then will you understand the purpose of her visit.” The next night, as the moon hung low in the indigo sky, Esmeralda found herself drawn back into that familiar yet otherworldly sanctuary. The strange woman awaited her, a hint of a smile gracing her gentle face. “Who are you?” Esmeralda asked, her voice steady despite the wild beating of her heart. The woman stepped closer, the light around her shimmering with an otherworldly grace. “I am the Immaculate Conception,” she answered, her voice like a soothing lullaby that caressed Esmeralda’s ears. Esmeralda’s breath caught in her throat. She had heard the name in whispered conversations and sermons. “Why me?” she asked, bewildered. “I am a dancer in the streets of Paris, a woman who seems unloved by God. Why would you choose me for such a noble task?” Mary’s gaze shifted, a deep well of understanding shining within her eyes. “You are indeed loved, my child. Love resides in the most unexpected of places. You see, it is not your circumstances that define you—it is your heart, your spirit.” The clarity of those words pierced through the fog of doubt and self-loathing that clouded Esmeralda’s mind. She had spent so long believing that her worth was tethered to the labels placed upon her. Now, faced with a divine presence, she felt the chains of her past begin to loosen. “Your heart, Esmeralda, is a sanctuary. It is where compassion thrives, where hope resides, where love blooms even in dark times. You believe yourself to be alone, but you are never truly alone. My love surrounds you, guiding you.” “What do you wish me to do?” Esmeralda breathed, her heart racing. “Are you asking me to build a church?” Mary nodded, her serene expression unfaltering. “Not only a church of stone but a community where love prevails over hate, where the downtrodden have a place to come and be cherished, where the unloved can find solace.” A vision flashed before Esmeralda—a bustling space where people gathered in warmth, laughter intertwined with silence, and candles flickered like stars against the dark. She imagined creating a haven that would embrace the lost and the broken, a beacon of hope amid despair. “But I have no resources,” Esmeralda objected, her spirit dimming. “The world out there is harsh, and I am just one woman.” Mary approached her, the light surrounding her glowing ever so brighter. “It is not about resources or power. It is about love. The love you carry in your heart is a force greater than any stone or coin. Gather those who share your vision. You will find allies in unexpected places.” When the first light of dawn broke, Esmeralda awoke with renewed purpose thrumming through her veins. The dream felt both like a calling and a challenge. She could no longer remain passive; she had to act. Esmeralda began her task with the same determination she had used to fight for others when their voices felt lost. She reached out to those within her community—other outcasts, the misunderstood, and even some noble souls, like Phoebus, who had once risked everything for her. With every invitation and every heartfelt conversation, she gathered pieces of a dream that felt no longer just hers but everyone’s. As the days turned to weeks, she formed an alliance of men and women who knew suffering, those who held love within them despite a world that had often turned away. They met in the quiet corners of Paris, sharing dreams of unity and gatherings, where laughter echoed through the crumbling alleys and kindness broke down walls. The church, as envisioned by Esmeralda, began to take form—not made solely of stone, but built upon the foundation of hope and joy. With every brick laid, a part of her heart was transformed, healing wounds she had carried for too long. In the months that followed, whispers of the sanctuary spread beyond the shadows, drawing people in from every corner. Each story was a testament to the unyielding strength of love. One evening, as candles illuminated the makeshift walls of the gathering space, Esmeralda stood before her community. A radiant smile graced her face as she spoke, “This place is not just for the unloved; it is for anyone who seeks belonging, for those who wish to share their truth. You are loved, every single one of you.” As she looked into their eyes, she saw the embodiment of what Mary had told her: she was indeed loved, and she was capable of creating love in others. She knew now that the Immaculate Conception had chosen her not because of her flaws but because she had sought to make her heart a sanctuary for all. Under the angelic gaze of stone gargoyles and the watchful stars, Esmeralda found herself surrounded by hope—a hope that was molded in forgiveness and resilience, echoing the promises whispered by the woman in her dreams. Together, they opened their arms as widely as their hearts. And in doing so, they built a church unlike any other—a sanctuary woven with love, where joy flourished amid sorrow, where every soul was cherished, and where Esmeralda finally found her place in the divine tapestry of existence.