To expand on the summary, this story is my imagining of Quasimodo's childhood because I've always wondered how he managed to survive in a bell tower as a baby. Frollo couldn't have been with him every minute of every day and even if he was, could you imagine him feeding, burping, and changing a baby? Neither can I, so this story is the result. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated, especially since this is my first story. Enjoy.
He had half expected the abomination to burst into flames when the bishop lowered Its misshapen head into the basin of water. When the "child" merely whimpered, it was with equal parts relief and irritation that Frollo released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Relief, because at least now he knew that It wasn't a demon. Irritation, because it seemed that he was indeed stuck with the thing.
" I baptize this child... Quasimodo, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."
"Amen." he intoned solemnly, though it was all he could do to keep the sneer off his face at the bishop's hesitance over It's name. He had protested over the choice, saying it was a cruelty to brand the child with the moniker of "half-formed", or to put it nicely, "almost- like." He had relented only because with the name came the sealed guarantee that Frollo was following through with his agreement to care for the monstrosity.
The bishop made the sign of the cross over It, and with that, the informal baptism was over. The bishop handed It to Frollo and fixed him with a steady gaze.
"I've made arrangements for the child to stay in a secluded area of the tower so the bells shouldn't disturb him overmuch, but it isn't exactly... ideal for a newborn. I suggest you bring several provisions with you the next time you visit. And as to the child's care itself..."
"I've already given my word to care for the beast!" Frollo snarled.
Did the old fool expect him to slit his wrist in a heathen blood oath?
The bishop's gaze shifted into one of open disapproval.
"So you did, but neither you nor I have the time or the energy it takes to care for an infant. Or were you planning on moving into the bell tower yourself?"
Frollo bit back a retort. The contemptible man had a point.
"Therefore, I suggest you find a nursemaid."
'No one must know of this!' he nearly shouted, but stopped short as his calculating mind began to weigh the pros and cons of the suggestion. On one hand, he risked exposure, but on the other hand, he'd be free to go about his business without having to worry about It. He'd be fulfilling his duty with the absolute minimum amount of contact possible. Yes, that would work out nicely, except for one detail.
"Very well. I'll have someone bring supplies over. As for the nursemaid, I believe you should have the honor of finding her."
"Me?"
"Yes, after all, I have no experience in these matters. I'm sure you could find someone with the proper qualities to fulfill this position. I, of course, will have final say."
The bishop opened his mouth as if to protest, but seemed to think better of it and simply nodded. He took something out of his pocket and handed it to Frollo. It was a thin iron key.
"Take the eastern staircase up to the second floor." With that, the bishop walked away to prepare for morning mass.
Frollo ascended the narrow staircase, holding It away from his body. The stairs led to a dark room lit with only two candles. In the dim light, Frollo could see that the room was filled with old and broken statues. The dismal lighting cast distorted shadows around the room, making the statues appear like grotesque caricatures of their true forms.
'A fitting place for a monster to sleep.' he thought.
On the far side of the room sat an old cot that had been raised and lined with thin blankets. Frollo placed the child in the cot and stood back.
"You had better be worth the trouble." he growled, and without a glance backwards, the judge left.