My friend Ellen had drawn a Fresme picture for me. I had said I would work on a little one-shot to accompany it. I don't really see too much point in finishing this, turning it into a whole story. I just wanted to write up a one-shot to accompany her amazing picture. Credit goes to her amazing artistic talent for my inspiration. ;) Frollo and Esmeralda belong to both Victor Hugo and Disney. Enjoy! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The small room began to swim dimly into view; emerald eyes adjusted slightly to the gloom. The gypsy Esmeralda continued laying on the wooden bed, her head spinning something fierce. Sitting up very carefully she began to take notice that she was alone. Where was she? She started to stand, but found it difficult to do so. Instead she crawled towards the door. Upon opening it with some difficultly due to her weakness the sounds of the raging battle in front of Notre Dame grew louder. Looking around she realized she was up in the bell tower, but she did not see any sign of Quasimodo.
Hobbling and crawling towards the stone stairwell, the gypsy dancer began her descent. Each step was such an effort for her, she groaned as she crawled down the stairs. Her head continued to feel dizzy. Maybe she should have stayed in the little room to wait for Quasimodo to return, but at the same time she needed to get away from here. Her mind was not her own in this moment, she began to blame herself for everything. Her people's lives were in danger because of her. She realized with dull horror that once she had been killed her gypsy clan would have been next. But how was it she was still alive? Did Frollo have a change of heart? Hardly! The look of pure evil was evident in that man's eyes once she refused his outrageous offer. Why would he even ask such a thing of her? The very man who hated gypsies wanted to be involved with one...it just made no sense.
The further she continued down the stairs she began to hear faint footsteps in the distance. Pausing slightly, she listened to make certain. The sound of footsteps were distinctive and they were definitely coming closer. Who could it be? Had some of the people outside broke through the doors and now were heading up the stairs? Esmeralda's eyes widened. She still could not stand too well, she was more or less on the ground in a crawling position. Her heart began to beat faster out of fear of who was drawing nearer.
Crawling back up the stairs she tried to move as fast as she could, but she was not fast enough. A tall, dark figure rounded the corner of the stairs, almost stepping on her. Esmeralda looked up wide-eyed from the ground to see the figure was that of Judge Frollo. That same crazed look was in his eyes, which instantly turned to shock when he saw her lying there. She continued to try to back up, but he immediately advanced on her.
"Esmeralda...no...how can this be?"
Frollo reached out to her, grabbing her by the shoulders to hoist her up to her feet. She had no energy to fight him, she fell limply in his arms. She moaned in protest, but it was pointless. The judge pushed Esmeralda up against the wall, bringing her closer towards his eye level.
"I gave you a choice and you refused me. You leave me no alternative than to return you back to hell from whence you came!"
Struggling further, Esmeralda tried to free herself, but his grip was quite tight. Her head was spinning horribly. She fought to keep her eyes open, but was finding it difficult. Frollo cupped his hand on her face, jerking her to keep her eyes on him. This didn't help, it made things worse for her. With a small pleading whimper her eyes rolled back in her head, her whole body began to slump downward. Frollo held her up, keeping her from falling to the ground. The shock and anger began to slowly fade away the longer he stared at her. A wicked smirk began to spread as he held her, gazing at her inert form. She was still dressed in only the white shift, which clung perfectly to her, exposing every curve to his wandering eyes.
Perhaps this will work out even better. He glanced up the stairwell; his original idea to confront Quasimodo had now changed. Holding Esmeralda in his arms suddenly seemed far more important. Gently he caressed her soft cheek, pushing back some strands of her ebony hair that had cascaded in front of her face. Unable to resist the urge he leaned in to inhale that familiar tantalizing scent in her hair. Deep down there was a part of him that was pleased she had survived. He was so enraged at her refusal that he only wished to be free of her evil spell, but now, having her body this close against his he could not imagine her dead.
Reaching down Frollo gathered Esmeralda up into his arms. She now had gone completely limp and unconscious. He needed to get her out of here as quickly as possible without being seen. Holding Esmeralda close against him, Frollo carried the gypsy girl back down the stairs. His imposing form with the unconscious girl cradled protectively in his arms lurked amongst the shadows, slipping out one of the side doors of the cathedral. The judge would see to it that Esmeralda was safely placed in his abode of the Palace of Justice and then from there he would personally tend to the chaos in front of Notre Dame, regaining control over Paris once more. Holding the desire of his affections had drastically changed his objective from that single moment on the stairwell.
