A/N: I was asked as a request by a good friend of mine to do a story involving Frollo and Esmeralda from the 1939 version of Hunchback of Notre Dame. I long since had typed it up and even showed it to my friend, but I kept forgetting to post it up. Doubt I'll do more with it, just leave it as a one-shot. Heh, me and my one-shots huh, lol! Anyway, so here's the Fresme forest scene I did at the request of my friend Jayme. Hope you all enjoy it! :D
Frollo and Esmeralda belong to Victor Hugo. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The breeze was fairly warm this particular evening out in the forest. Masked revelers were mingling about, making their way towards the center court for the garden festivities. The gypsy dancer, Esmeralda had just finished dressing in dancing attire behind a hedge that acted as a dressing screen, preparing to go out to perform. Gringoire had been lingering about, amusing himself and watching over Djali the goat while Esmeralda continued to dress. The poet was also making her laugh with silly acrobatics moves. The gypsy maiden was in high spirits, a smile upon her cherub face. Giggling, she told Gringoire to go on ahead, she'll be there soon.

Jingling as she emerged from her dressing hedge, the dancer began to make her way towards the flickering bonfire of the gypsy encampment. She was on a natural high, looking forward to dancing freely that she never noticed an imposing shadow lurking nearby. Moving closer, it descended upon her like a dark fog, eclipsing her, blocking the path. Esmeralda's eyes widened, jaw dropped in a silent gasp as she was backed against a tree. A piercing heated gaze was upon her, the shadow was that of the archdeacon, Claude Frollo. Those eyes of his once more seemed to be staring straight into her soul, just like in the cathedral.

"You. What have I done? Why do you pursue me so?"
Claude implored her to free him of this bewitching spell over him. Feelings stirred inside him that had lay dormant until now.

"I sought a tranquil existence and had it, till I saw you. Since then my powers have failed me, for I cannot rid myself of you. In every book I read I see your face. In every sound I hear your voice, the jingle of your tambourine. I have questioned my conscience through the deep hours of the night, only to awaken in greater confusion."

His words confused the girl, all she could do was stare back, blinking in disbelief. Finding her voice she explained she needed to go to the stage to dance, wanting to put as much distance from him as possible.

"They're waiting for me, leave me be!"

Claude's eyes narrowed, snatching at her wrist like a cobra when it strikes its prey. The gypsy dancer cried out at both the suddenness and the tightness he had on her.

"No! I don't want any scoundrel's hungry eyes upon you while you dance!"

"You're hurting me!"

Claude's eyes suddenly softened, realizing what he was doing. His grip on her wrist loosened, but only a little. He could not fully let her go.

"Forgive me, please...I did not mean to hurt you..."

The gypsy girl's back was pressed so tightly against the tree, attempting to give herself as much personal space as she possibly could. Claude however kept closing the distance, continuing to hold her wrist. With a slight tug, Esmeralda was pulled closer against him. Frightened eyes stared up into his intense ones. Such fire could be found in them. Bringing her wrist up to his lips, Claude ever so slowly brushed his lips along her bare skin. It felt like she was being branded with fire. A gasp fell audibly from her lips, she squirmed more against him. His voice whispered once more in a pleading tone, hoping in some attempt to calm her. Esmeralda whispered the words, "no", but at the same time the heat of his lips felt like liquid fire upon her, causing a tingling sensation to prickle her skin. Her head felt very dizzy, she no longer could hear Gringoire calling for her to make her entrance. Voices outside of Claude's dark embrace became muffled.

"Come away with me..."

She needed to resist, she should scream, anything, but the archdeacon's kisses grew stronger, suckling softly along her arm. Stepping closer to her, he boldly now was at her neck, whispering hotly and deeply. "Leave with me...Esmeralda..."

Claude knew he already was damned once he touched her. His lips already sinning at kissing her sweet flesh, but no longer did he care. He could not stop himself now even if he attempted to. It pleased him to see that the gypsy girl was not the only one who could bewitch a person. Esmeralda's eye lashes grew heavy and fluttered, her head reclined back, she could feel herself swoon. Claude's looming form over her closed in, enveloping her into his arms, preventing her from falling. He lifted her up, finding her petite body light, it brought a small moan to pass through him. A quivering pleasure to hold the object of his haunted desires in his arms. He tucked her closely against his chest, dark hair cascading loosely around her. One final glance over his shoulder in the direction of the gypsy stage. People began looking around, wondering why Esmeralda had not ventured out to begin her performance. Why indeed! A small satisfied grin crossed the archdeacon's lips, looking down at the inert girl in his arms before dashing off further into the forest. Spirit her away, the gypsy was now his!