Title: Emerald
Author: LucridLucifel
Genre: One shot, slightly dark.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame
Summary: She made him catch Hellfire. [EsmeraldaxFrollo].
Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Disney owns all the rights and no money is made from this work of fiction.
Emerald
Frollo despised gypsies. And for good reason. They went against God. They were an abomination to the city of Paris. And if Frollo wasn't a man of God, he could not ignore this.
There was no one more holy than Frollo and it was his duty to rid the city of Paris of the plague infecting the citizens. These gypsies have brain washed the citizens into believing in nonsense of fortune telling, tarot cards and "magic." It was ridiculous to think they would abandon the beliefs of the one and only God for treacherous notions that magic can foretell the future.
It was absurd!
It was up to him to cleanse France of Gypsies.
If there was one thing that Frollo hated it was beggars.
It disgusted him.
And, to top it off, the majority of these beggars filling the streets are these gypsies.
It wasn't until the festival he couldn't rid his mind of these plague-like thoughts.
He was entranced by the performer dancing around in a glittering red gown. It was obscene and tempestuous of her to parade in that frock; dancing in ways that shouldn't be seen by public eyes.
He was very disgusted by his lingering thoughts of the performer.
And when he learned she was a gypsy! It was scandalous to think he couldn't get her out of his thoughts.
And, like that, in a blink of an eye she vanished in a gush of her mysterious cloud.
Her name is Esmeralda. Just like the greenest emerald jewel.
Which reminded him of her feline eyes that glow under a fan of thick lashes against her olive skin.
A forbidden beauty.
Not even prayer to the Virgin Mary help cleanse his mind of these wicked thoughts.
This was becoming very frightening and tormenting.
The gypsy, Esmeralda, was the source of Frollo's secret agony and misery.
That evil gypsy must have put a curse upon him with her witchcraft. There was no other explanation for it. The moment she made eye contact with him she placed this plague of a curse.
It enraged him to think of all this her doing.
That conniving little-He dare not continue that train of that.
Frollo wanted to teach her a lesson. And the strong impulse already had him snatching his black cloak and headed toward the dungeon.
He walked a great distance to the secret dungeon in his estate.
He pushed through the gates and right before him the gypsy was curled in a ball in the bed of hay. Her clothing was tattered and filthy. Her head slowly looked up and her glowing green eyes full of rage and defiance.
The look in her eyes tied angry knots inside his chest. He despised her and at the same instance, he wanted her not to despise him back. He desired her underneath this wretched guise of sin. In the secrecy of hidden walls away from his fellow peers, he embraced this sensation of desire, lust and need for the gypsy.
He reached out behind the bars. Giving into his need to touch her dark, smooth skin. "You have cast a curse and now I am under your spell, gypsy," he said.
Esmeralda narrowed her eyes, disbelief crossing her beautiful features. Despite her face covered in soot and battered, she was exotic and gorgeous."You are out of your mind."
"I know you are the one deceiving and full of lies. I can recognize witchcraft when I see it," he replied, aggressively.
"I did no such thing." Esmeralda rose to her feet, marching to the bars of her cell. She was inches away from Frollo's haggard scorning face. "Release me! I have done no such thing to deserve being imprisoned."
"Being a gypsy is a crime enough to keep you behind these stone walls." A wicked small smile curled his thin wrinkled lips. "But, if you decide to be good and stay here with me, I will make sure no harm comes to you."
Her eyes widened. Shocked. "What are you saying?"
"Stay with me and be mine. No one should need to find out of this," he said, in a slightly more gentler manner. His attempts at persuasion included idly running his long, crone pale fingers through her thick, curly raven hair. A small chill thrummed across his skin. "Put your life in my hands," he whispered.
Esmeralda flinched and immediately retreated back a few paces. She was against the stone wall of her cell, staring at him with all her hatred. "You are a filthy pig! I rather rot here than be with you!"
Frollo's lips twisted into a snarl. "Let's see how you feel incarcerated with no food or water." He turned and stormed off.
The next few days, he came everyday and propositioned her and everyday she turned him away.
Weak, starving and deteriorating, Esmeralda refused to give in. Deprivation of food and water did not sway her decision. She stood her ground to the day of her execution. She was to die in front of all Paris, burned to the stake, trialed as a witch.
As the soldiers dragged her defeated body to the stake, tying her in, Frollo approached her-a fleeting and alarming feeling of hope she would change her mind in fear of death-and whispered, "Choose me or the fire."
She spat in his face.
She made her choice and she chose death.
The notion itself filled him with an uncontrollable wrath and he didn't hesitate to set fire the hay around her that quickly grew into flames.
As Frollo watched the flames consume and surround her, a sense of relief swept through him. Her death would put an end to this unshakable carnal lust for her. Frollo can once more rejoice in the grace of God and not threaten to stray into sin.
The death of Esmeralda will undo everything.
If it wasn't for Quasimodo's unexpected interference, the witch that capture his heart wouldn't be alive.
The End.