A/N: I started writing this story, maybe... 3 years ago. and its been sitting on my desktop since then waiting for me to do something with it. i'm still working on it, along with all the other fanfictions i have in progress right now, but i read over it recently and decided i really wanted to share it here.

I promise i will update my other stories soon :D i just couldn't resist adding one more to the pile

Here's a longer description before the read :)

to love her is temptation, and temptation is one of the deepest of sins. but is sin worth her love in return?

20 years before a Hunch back rang the bells of Notre Dame, before a Gypsy enchanted a man, before a Minister set his world in flames for love, ... there was another.

When Frollo's guilt is played by the Deacon on that fateful night in Paris, he takes on another, not the deformed child, but its wounded mother. Forced to hide this woman in his home as she recovers, other secrets are kept behind closed doors, fascination with her fiery behavior, her lively spirt, and her love for life. the powerful leader begins to question his own rules of the religion he so spiritually lives by and struggles against the attraction of the woman who every day grows more and more involved in his life. While Minister Frollo struggles with the truth, his Gypsy guest struggles with her conflicting emotions. How could a man who's hurt her people so so much in the past have such a strong effect on her now? what secrets will be reviled to her wondering heart about the dark Judge of Paris... when in his care?

I hope you like it! and PLEASE review if you do 3

In His Care

"Dies irae, dies illa Solvet saeclum in favilla. Teste David cum sibylla Quantus tremor est futurus. Quando Judex est venturus."

-Day of wrath, that day shall consume the world in ashes. As prophesied by David and the sibyl. What trembling is to be When the Judge is come-

The dark streets of Paris were silent and cold that night. The black sky gently fell upon the city in a light snow that dusted the cobblestones and ancient woodwork of the old buildings. The city of love now lay silent in its early morning slumber. But somewhere under the shadow of the great cathedral, the peace of the night was disturbed.

On that blackest of nights, the air was silent. The only sound was the hush of the snow as it brushed past the sleeping windows. No one stirred in their bed that night, nor did they awaken suddenly to lie in the emptiness one feels when they are pulled from pleasant dreaming. If only they were to listen through the darkness, they would hear the sound of hurried footsteps, desperately running through the night. If they were to rise from their beds to peer curiously through the glass, they would see a desperate gypsy woman, running for the freedom of her newly born child. If they would only open their ears, their eyes, or their hearts they could have seen her; The mother and her child in desperate need of help from the terror that ran just behind them. But sadly no one heard their cry.

With her heartbeat drumming heavily against her heaving chest, the mother ran onward through the snow covered streets, clutching her infant carefully in her arms as she went. Behind her the foreboding boom of her pursuer's horse terrified the gypsy mother, egging her to keep running and never look back.

She took a turn to her left heading toward what she remembered to be the way back toward the river but was faced with a large black wall. Panicking the mother searched around. Upon spying a narrow balcony, she leaped over the low railing, slipping on the ice below. With concern for her child she held him closer to her body, keeping him safe as she landed. She turned for a moment to look up at the large black horse above her. Its powerful legs rearing at the obstacle its rider now tried to make it face. Collecting her self she ran onward, hoping the beast wouldn't be able to follow. But the cry of its rider and the thunder of its black hooves destroyed her hopes of escape as they again echoed through the narrow allies of the streets just inches behind her.

As the gypsies and their pursuer ran on through the streets of Paris, the great bells of the ancient cathedral Notre Dame began to sound the hour. At hearing its toll the gypsy mother sought hope, for she knew as code of the church's acceptance, they would grant her and her child the safety they needed. With her last strength she quickened her pace and turned suddenly in the direction of the booming ring of the tower, temporarily losing the horse and its master.

Coming under the looming shadow of the great cathedral she stopped for a moment, catching her breath and shifting the weight of the heavy infant in her arms. Maybe she had lost him she wondered, her lungs quivering with every breath. From the corner of her eye she saw a quick flash of movement. She turned, swiveling around to see the dark steed and the even darker man come rushing from another alleyway.

The mother let out a cry of desperation, but strangely her child never made a sound. Turning, She ran desperately up the steep steps of Notre Dame loosing her footing once on the icy surface.

The chase had only lasted a minute but to her shaking body it had seemed as if the rider had chased her for hours. The third toll of the bell sounded adding to the already unbearable ringing in her ears. Glancing over her shoulder she could see the great black beast struggle as it leaped up the stares behind her, breathing heavily under the weight of its vigorous ride and its demanding rider. The creature's heaving body was one step behind, close enough to easily see the beads of sweat shining on its night black flank.

With one last thrust of desperation she threw herself upon the giant wooden doors of the cathedral, slamming her fists upon its ancient surface and causing it to almost creek and splinter under her now bruised hands.

"Sanctuary!" she screamed to the old church, "Please give us sanctuary!" but before her plea could be answered, the horse's hot breath was felt on the back of her neck as a cold hand reached down, pulling her and her child away from safety.

She was viciously spun around forced to face her unmerciful pursuer. A towering man decked in flowing black robes glared down at her and her baby from beneath the shadow of his brim, enraged at the small woman and the trouble she had caused him that night. This disgusting gypsy had sinfully stolen something, and after giving he and his horse a terribly rigorous ride through the cold morning, now dared to soil the great Notre Dame with her presence and pitiful cry for sanctuary. Determined to have her locked away and punished for her unforgivable deeds, the black hunter grabbed at his prey, snatching up the bundle from her arms and pulling it away. But her hands like claws still clung to the fabric, begging him to let go. The bell tolled four, shaking the ground ever so slightly under the powerful hooves of his midnight stallion. The horse reared up in fear as the second echo of the toll came vibrating heavily down from the black tower above, surprising both his rider and the frightened woman beneath him.

Not letting go of the bundle between them, the cloaked man pulled his reins viscously and cursed his ragging animal. Beneath his fluttering robes and ducking from the pawing blows of powerful hooves, the mother let go of her child with one hand to protect her own face from the rearing horse above her. But With the third echo of the chiming bell the stallion let out a haunting whinny that seemed to match the volume of the toll overhead, challenging it in magnitude. Its cry sent chills across her struggling and tired body and as the freezing wind whipped it self harshly against her back all the noise of the moment melded it self into one solitary scream. The blow of sound caught the gypsy off guard, causing her to let go of her young child and cradle her own ringing head in her hands.

Slowly but surely the bombardment of surrounding noise faded back to the silent darkness of the early morning. And as she looked up through the snowfall, the last thing she saw was her own new born child in the arms of a black shadow; his robes rapped around him through the wind like stretching black wings ominously cradling him and the child in his arms. As the horse came down, black hooves struck hard against her arm sending her into a curled over hunch, a strong kick to her chest from the black rider above gave the final push sending her tumbling backward through the air and the ring of the final chime. The hum of the bell gave into silence just as her young head struck the hard step sounding a crack of the impact to pan out through the open square, under the great Cathedral.

All that passed her ears was the gentle sound of landing snowflakes upon the frozen earth beneath her. And with a whisper of wind, the darkness came and her eyes closed against the world.

Please leave me a review of what you think so far :D and don't worry! there's already more to come. enjoy your read!