I Dream
Summary: Esmeralda leaves her husband and Paris because of the threats coming from the king. She promises to return while Frollo becomes sick with fear that she never will.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunchback of Notre-Dame or any of its plots and characters. This is simply for entertainment purposes. All rights belong to Disney and Victor Hugo.
Song: Sogno by Andrea Bocelli
Va, ti aspettero
Il fiore nel giardino segna il tempo
Qui disgnero il giorno poi del tuo ritorno
"I'll return to you. I promise." Two years. He had heard those words two years ago that day. Claude got out of bed as the bells struck seven in the morning. Another sleepless night. By then, he expected it for he couldn't sleep without her. He never could. And each night, the words reiterated relentlessly in his mind, another feeling of dread and sorrow washing over him. It was the same thing every night. And it was all because he gave her permission. He shouldn't have agreed. He shouldn't have let her go no matter how much she insisted that she would be alright. True, she never said when she would be back but she said she would and they had no method of communicating. He didn't know where to send the many letters he wrote out. Claude thought that the most she would be gone were a couple of months. Not two full years.
The king and his men had searched the city thoroughly, not discovering a single gypsy for none remained. Several gypsies had returned, roaming the streets, but that was all. There had been no festivals, no dancing in the city from anyone. The Court of Miracles was desolate, hushed. There were no signs that anyone had been there either, all evidence of the inhabitants gone. It was just an abandoned court underground. The gypsies that had returned to Paris caused no trouble, no havoc, nothing. In fact, they themselves looked hollow, a shell of what they once were. It was almost as though they lost something of importance to them. Frollo hoped that it was not their queen that they lost.
The days without her were dismal, bleak and dreary. Hell, even that didn't describe it. Nothing could. Half the time, the minister would check to see if he was still alive, if his heart was still beating and every time, to his dismay, it was. Yet he barely considered himself alive. Hell, he scoffed at the thought of truly living without her. His wife, soul mate, love was gone and he didn't know if he'd ever see her again. That was what shook him to his very core. He woke up every single morning, praying that she would wake up with him wherever she was. But that was all he could do… Hope and pray.