This little story takes place after the events of both movies, assuming these characters didn't die or were brought to life. Enjoy!
Gothel had come into France the night before for a little more than sightseeing, though she wouldn't tell anyone this. She made her way through the streets to the great cathedral, Notre Dame. Notre Dame was a sacred sanctuary and she welcomed under her protection all travellers, regardless of their intentions. Inside the masterpiece of architecture, peace reigned.
She took a quiet step up and smirked to herself. She was finally where she wanted to be. Past Nine hour, there were not many parishioners, just a few people too lost in prayers to notice a strange woman stepping through the cathedral's main doors. At the other side of the nave, moving across a corridor surrounded in darkness, a shadowed figure approached with regal peace, heading to the entrance, but this figure clad in back, halted before the image of the blessed Virgin, who carried Her child Son on an removed the hood from her cape and glanced around. She had never been religious. Perhaps when she was young, but it wasn't too long before she'd given up all hope in practicing a faith. She was here for a far more selfish reason. The mysterious figure was suddenly partially illuminated by the light entering through the stained-glass window, and it was revealed to be an elderly looking man. He was of careworn features, marks on the right side of his face, sporting judicial attire of the finest quality; he carried on his ringed hands a basket, whose contents were carefully wrapped with a cloth, and on the basket there was also a striped black chaperon hat, graced with a red sash. A pair of melancholic eyes stared at the Virgin, for he was in prayer. That was Claude Frollo. Gothel eyed the judge, glancing between him and the stairs. Maybe she could slip past unnoticed...
She took a few quiet steps - her cloak rustling was the only noise she made, and she headed towards the stairs. Frollo had the sensation of being observed, and it was not the eyes of Notre Dame. He looked sideways to find a strange woman, who was wearing a travelling cape, and now with the hood down, her ebony curls fluttered freely as she headed towards the stone staircase that would lead to the belfry. True it was that since he allowed Quasimodo to have his own wood workshop, people would often visit him and commission furniture and works of art from the bell ringer, but the Minister had never seen this woman before. Crossing himself, he turned and while his demeanour was regal and composed, he walked hurriedly to stand behind the woman, but not close still
"... Greetings, Madam..." a quiet and firm baritone began "...Going any further away from the cathedral's nave is not allowed unless you obtain a permission." She stopped there and glanced over her shoulder.
"Permission?" She asked quietly, her voice betraying several different emotions: Haughtiness, annoyance, awkwardness, but above all, nervousness. A small smirk appeared on the Minister's gaunt features.
"The House of God shall protect all of His children, but we cannot allow people wandering at the cloisters or the bell towers without permission, that could be obtained once the objective for the visit is once clarified. I dearly hope, you understand these rules, Madam..." he made a pause, there was something he disliked about this woman "Perhaps you have just arrived to my city?" He asked, returning the stare, disdain in his grey eyes.
"Fortunately... I'm not a child of God, so you needn't worry." she tapped his chin once with a single finger and dashed up the stairs without any more of a response. Hearing the young woman, disrespectfully and without any prudence, uttering such affirmation, enraged Frollo greatly. However, before he could speak, the impudent woman dared to mock him by tapping on his chin, sending a shiver of most unholy sensations down his spine. The succubus! With swift movement he ascended the staircase and reached to grab her by the wrist. The grip strong like iron.
"You shall not go anywhere other than the dungeons, heathen!" he exclaimed quietly. She tried to pull from his grasp and pushed him to the wall when it didn't work.
"I've been called many things." She whispered against his ear. "That one seems new..." The Minister was taken aback when the insolent woman pushed him onto the wall, but he was not hurt, he had battled demons and forces of darkness, and yet when she whispered, her sweet breath stroking his ear, those delightful and horrible sensation returned to him. Indeed her fragrance, her tresses and features were heavenly, but it was clear that her soul belonged to the flames of the Abyss.
There was someone who still regarded the bell tower as his home, the boy was someone dear for Frollo, that boy was his family and the old man would not permit scum like this woman cause any harm to the bell ringer. Fighting away the impious thoughts this witch could arouse, the Minister proceeded to turn downstairs, dragging the woman with him as his grip remained firm on her wrist. She hissed and yanked her hand away, hurting herself in the process, but showing nothing but a slight wince. She stared at the man firmly, her head turned down and her eyes looking up.
"Fire is not meant for all who don't believe." She whispered sadly and sighed lightly. Minister Frollo sneered when the impious woman managed to free herself from his grip.
"Then He will turn to those on the left and say: 'away with you, you cursed ones, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his demons´..." then his features softened. "...However, the Lord has mercy for those who would regret... State your name, and pray tell what is that you are seeking here." She rubbed her red wrist and closed her eyes.
"I will not give my name, nor what I'm doing here." She told him firmly. "But I am not here to cause anyone harm." She looked up slowly and her lips raised in a coquettish smile, but she said no more. The Minister was not amused, he simply stared at the woman, loathing how enticing her smile and attitude was.
"...Oh, great and pleasant news you delivered, Madam" he replied with sarcasm. "It iswonderful to know you are not here to cause harm. However, I am afraid tour charges will be greater if you refuse to cooperate" he continued, this time with patronizing tone that faded into a cold voice when he added. "…Respond the questions presented to you: who are you and what is your purpose here?" She rolled her eyes and took a step closer to him. She ran one finger down the side of his face, then reached down her bodice with her other hand and pulled out a coin purse.
"Last name's Gothel, first name doesn't matter. No, this isn't my first time here, I prayed in this building many years ago." she put the little bag in his hand. "I will say no more." The audacity of this woman was utterly unacceptable; a small bag of coins she offered, a clear attempt of bribery, such insolence was insulting! Frollo felt rage overcame him and he returned the bag to her.
"The Lord spoke to you, but you will not listen!" he hissed and reached to grab her by her wrist. "Madam Gothel, you are under arrest, you shall be taken to the Palace of Justice to be interrogated." She yanked away quickly and ran around the corner of the stairs.
"It's hard to listen when he kills all!" Her voice trailed off.
"That is not going to help your defense!" Frollo gave chase, he could not let her escape. Once he'd turned the corner, the woman was completely gone. The Minister turned around the corner of the spiral staircase, only to find the woman was gone. "... A sorceress!" he gasped, confirming what he suspected. "No..." he began to cautiously search the belfry trying to find her, he listened for any sound and even sniffed the air trying to perceive her scent. Gothel slumped to the floor with a large breath, then pulled a dagger from her boot and hurried to the bell, hardly able to move at all. Frollo looked up... there was a sound, something collapsed on the ground, and it was at Quasimodo's chambers! Making not a sound, the Minister hurried towards it. Upon his arrival, he was welcomed by silence, the cooper bells hanging above peacefully, and the bell ringer was probably at his workshop. From his sleeve, he produced a poniard and stepped forward, his senses in alert. Gothel stepped under the bell and put the dagger like a crowbar under one of the gems.
"Come... Off." She growled at she yanked at it. Frollo heard the husky voice echoing, that meant the was under a bell! With great agility, Frollo climbed and saw Gothel was indeed partially hidden under a bell, the most precious amongst all.
"La Fidele!- She would not try to steal?-" Alas, that was what Gothel was doing. "Desecration! Sacrilege!" the baritone boomed as the old man reached, in an attempt to prevent the act of thievery. The curly haired witch looked over quickly and with one powerful yank, the gem popped off.
"Eternity!" she exclaimed with a wicked laugh. Frollo's eyes widened in fright to witness La Fidele being stolen, the gemstone had been removed. Sacrilege was committed before his eyes. Reacting, the Minister charged against the woman, the poniard raised and cast down, aiming to stab her if she would not defend herself or dodge.
"…Thief! Impious woman, vermin from Hell! Return that gemstone!" He hissed. Gothel shoved the gem down her dress and defended with her dagger with a flinch. The old man dropped the basket he was carrying, it's contents scattered on the stone ground: several herbs and roots he had collected for his potions. However, he failed to notice as he was concentrated on the battle. "For what reason would you commit this sacrilege?!" When the blades collided, he pushed forward, trying to send her backwards. The woman fought back with surprising strength, then at the last moment, dodged to the side.
"Oh, for personal gain, you know." she chuckled "I'm just going to crush it up and drink it! Frollo was surprised by the strength the succubus possessed, nonetheless, he was as well strong in combat, and this woman was not exactly a lady.
"Oh, I am honored for that revelation!" he chuckled as he followed her, the daggers clashing with loud metallic sounds, breaking the peace of the bell tower. "...What more ingredients will you be adding, Madame? Water, alum, potassium nitrate- ah, a little mercury- oh do not forget some cinnamon to achieve a better flavor!" The Minister had the feeling that the witch could be trying to create the Philosopher's Stone, specially after hearing her proclaim the word 'eternity' when she stole the gemstone. To his surprise, the witch just stopped fighting and her eyes widened.
"No, those aren't the ingredients, but I think you've got the right idea." she smirked and gave a musical laugh. "I underestimated you... Anyone who knows the ingredients to that is less honorable that he appears to be. Nothing on your record though." She raised a hand to show she wouldn't stab him. She confirmed she was planing to boil a concoction, for the transmutation of metals and to obtain the eternal life.
"Less honorable? Are you questioning my virtue, woman?!-" here he was, the Minister of Justice, stammering before this witch, at least, he remained on guard.
"Oh, no sir!" she shook her head. "Not at all, but when you've lived as long as I have and met so many people... Few understand any sort of potion at all, lest it be eternal youth." She showed him the dagger and returned it to her boot.
"Oh... well... eternal youth is not what I seek, nor the creation of gold... I am interested to find the panacea, so I am able to heal all illnesses that-..." Frollo was speaking in a tone that sounded shyly, but then he gasped, realizing he was revealing his interest on Hermetics. "Goodness gracious, what am I saying?!- Wait, eternal youth?! No, Madam, that is going against the Lord's Will... return the gemstone to me, it belongs to La Fidele..."
"I've already had it for the past few centuries..." She stepped forward to him, her hands folded gracefully. "And I can promise you, it's not against the Lords Will... Neither is the healing of all sicknesses." She chuckled. "That's a noble thing to seek. And I'm not interested in gold, merely my youth." Gothel gave a disarming smile. Claude Frollo was rendered speechless. This woman, this sorceress, had been alive and youth for centuries?! Who was this graceful creature? The Minister recoiled one step away from her.
"...That would be a vain purpose... I believe..." He expressed but he found her alluring and interesting. "You are a witch, no doubt..." he stated the obvious.
"More or less." She shrugged lightly. "I used to be powerful, but it has faded over time, it hurts to conjure any magic." she admitted and placed a finger on the end of his weapon. "Why don't we put this away... Wouldn't want to put murder on your clean record, now would we?" She asked, her voice soft. Ah, she was confessing! Frollo shook his head before staring into her eyes.
"You told me your name, but I had the discourtesy of not introducing myself yet... I am Claude Frollo, Minister of Justice of Paris, and is my sacred duty to obliterate evil..." he sighed. "You see? My city had endured so much tribulations because of dark magic, and at the present France is on war against the British... the least we need is more troubles, if I could be honest with you" Frollo added casually, but then his features became stern once again. "...This shall be the last warning, return the gemstone or else I am going to retrieve it myself... from wherever you have stored it."
"Well, Minister, I shall tell you now that evil does not root in magic, but instead with how it is used." She bent down to pick up his basket and the scattered herbs. "And when it's a disease you're born with, yet those without still burn you... It is they who sin." She ignored the rest of what he said and handed him the basket.
The Minister had learnt, during the past two years that magic, despite it was forbidden by the Lord, was not evil, there were magic wielders that were noble souls, like the Neverfaries he adored. He himself had studied beyond the sciences of his times, to find refuge in alchemy, and was being trained to use spiritual powers to battle against the forces of darkness. In all, Gothel was speaking the truth, but he was not going to admit it, never. He gave a step forward, ready to resume the hostilities and retrieve the gemstone. The woman before him was a sinner, a thief, lascivious and an insolent scum; to think what she could do once she would obtain eternal youth, she probably would cast sorrow over the world, she had to be stopped! Still, the next he knew, the woman placed the basket on his hands, that was what she was doing, gathering all the medicinal herbs- Frollo's beady eyes widened like plates. Now, this woman knew that the Keeper of the Seals of France was meddling with the occult! Gothel glanced between the herbs and his face. He looked positively stunned, but she wasn't quite sure why. Next she snatched the weapon from his hand and tossed it several feet away.
"Hmmm... Much better." She chuckled softly. "I'm not a danger to anyone but myself, and the bell is just fine without a single gem the size of a grape." The witch shook her head and brushed her curls back from her face. Disarmed, he had just being disarmed. Frollo buried his face on the palm of his now free hand, loudly.
"No... my dear Gothel..." he said morosely, but it did not matter he had lost the poniard, he was a resourceful man "Have you been listening, can you not understand? It is not the gemstone but stealing from the blessed church is a sacrilegious act, and also the fact that you will use it for vain purposes. I am no one to permit these sins."
"If I could use just any gemstone, do you not think I would? But I can not. It is required I use a gem from this bell, because this bell is eternal." She put two fingers on the bottom of his chin and moved him to look back up at her. "I do not seek trouble, not with God, for he's punished me enough; not with the church, for it's done nothing against me; and not with you, kind Minister, for you did not kill me." Frollo had a frown when his head was lifted to met Gothel's blue eyes, clear like the sky during winter./
"After all the trials the Lord had provided... would you not recant from your undoings?" There was something about this sorceress, that made the old man hesitate, an error he possibly will have to pay later.
"I can't. It's far too late for that, and I've held a grudge so long, I wouldn't possibly consider letting it go." She sighed lightly, and it was obvious in her eyes that she's let down her guard for a moment, but not for long. "Four hundred year old habits are hard to break." she joked lightly.
"Four hundred years... and you are still seeking... it is admirable, I must admit. However, hatred has proved to lead to nowhere, no matter the time, is not late..." he reached to hold her hand. "... Come... I shall place you under the care of the Benedictine Sisters at the Convent... you will find the light and be saved..." Gothel's eyes narrowed and her irises glowed.
"Never." she spat the word angrily and shied away. Frollo was in bewilderment. Gothel had refused an opportunity of salvation, it was a real pity.
"You have chosen the hard way... so be it..." He narrowed his eyes and, he left the basket to rest over a wooden crate; when this was done, the Minister lunged forward to seize her. Gothel gasped in surprise, her mind working quickly. She crossed her arms over and grabbed his hands, twisting him around quickly and pulling his back to her. She had noticed the way this man looked at her, just as all the rest did. With one of the seven deadly sins. Lust. It was her last defense. Frollo hissed, sounding like an enraged cat. "In the name of the Lord, what do you think you are doing, woman?!" Gothel smiled softly and put her arms carefully around him.
"Escaping..." She whispered, her mouth to his ear. "You think I get caught that easily?" Frollo grabbed hold of the witch's wrists firmly, but he made no further movement. He could feel through the fabrics of their clothing, her feminine forms pressing against his back, it was exhilarating and sinful! The old man began to hyperventilate and drops of sweat crowned his forehead, his entire frame was overcame by subtle tremors, with the tables turned, the Minister was frightened. Gothel closed her eyes and sneered. She had him exactly where she wanted him. "I'll help you..." She said softly. "I know alchemy well... healing is simple... all would look up to you." She spoke slowly.
Claude Frollo closed his eyes. What were the powers of this woman? Only he wanted was to turn around and get a taste of those crimson lips of hers, oh how he desired so! He could do it, this situation was already deplorable and it was madness to halt midway into the monstrous! But this woman could not love him, she was only taunting him with false promises and carnal temptations.
"... You succubus!-..." the otherwise commanding baritone came out as a soft, broken sigh, he felt like a fool and vulnerable, and he loathed it. His mind was suddenly assaulted by a thought, a memory... was this torment what Esmeralda experienced that fateful day? Frollo's opened his eyes and with a growl, his grip still on her wrists, he pushed himself backwards, hoping to clash Gothel against one of the copper bells. Gothel allowed herself to trip and fall to the floor with a thud.
"Now that one I've heard before." She muttered and laughed. "Apparently I have a way of slipping under one's skin..." She sneered. Gothel fell to the wooden floor, and Frollo fell along with her, but he quickly turned so he was over her.
"... Impudent, witch!" he exclaimed through gritted teeth. "Did you indeed think I would be entrapped by your spell? Let's see how well you will fare, chained at the dungeons!" from his cassock he pulled a piece or rope, intended to be used to tie her wrists. "Gothel, you are under arrest."
"Everyone does." She said simply and reached up and kissed him passionately, grabbing onto the rope and holding it in a fist. Everything became dark, the moment their lips became seared. Claude Frollo deepened that kiss, and it tasted like a sweet poison, a fiery flame that burned and consumed him; and yet, when an unstoppable wave of pleasure went down his spine, the Minister abruptly parted the kiss, released the rope, dashed backwards.
"Demon, you shall not have my soul!- Whhaa!- damnation to it all! " he exclaimed in despair and, stumbling backwards, he fell from the parapet and onto the bell tower's loft bellow, landing over the table that displayed the scale model of Paris the bell ringer had so dedicatedly carved. The small wooden houses and figures were broken and scattered on the ground, while the Minister remained quiet, pale as if life were with him no more.
The scandal had attracted the attention of the Archdeacon.
"What is going on here?!" the old priest and the monks at his side were stunned by the scene that welcomed them at the belfry
"Listen well!" Gothel stood and pointed at the Archdeacon, her eyes like fire, literally red. "Minister Claude Frollo has done his best, but in the end, he is not strong! No, no man is strong, and I shall escape!" She took a strong step forwards, dominating everyone in the room. "I shall be back, one day! And you will never be strong enough to stop me, for I shall have eternity rippling through my veins." She turned to see the minister. "I shall now be your downfall for eternity!" She glanced back at the Archdeacon and those with him. "Pardon me..." She sneered and licked her lips with a dark chuckle. "I am under God's grace while I'm in this room, and when I leave the great Notre Dame, you'll never be able to find me." The Archdeacon and the monks were terrified by the sight before them. The woman's eyes were red and her blasphemous mouth appeared to spill venom with each word.
"... Oh, Lord, have mercy on us!" the old priest whispered in fear.
"... Fools-... summon the guards..." Frollo said, struggling to remain conscious. One of the monks reacted and stormed downstairs, calling for the royal guards. the soldiers in matter of seconds appeared and surrounded the cathedral, a patrol heading to the bell tower. Gothel snickered and jumped down to where Frollo was.
"You know... If you'd have just let me go, none of this would've had to happen." She grabbed his hands and pulled him off the table, helping him to stand, and her face became soft. "I'm not a demon..." Her eyes changed back to their original grey. "And I'm not wicked. I suffer from pride, but don't we all? Never you mind the ones who claim to be evil, they're no worse than the rest... It's the ones who claim to be better than the rest of us who you need to watch out for." She glided her fingers down the side of his face. "Take care."The Minister was able to hear the husky voice of Gothel, but it sounded distant, and he was helped to his feet by her. The shameless witch! He spoke as if were something so simple; he could not let her go, it was his sacred duty to have her captured and prevent her fron achieving eternal life. Gothel claimed her intentions to be not evil, but only the soul was immortal, and having such prolonged lifespan she could transform into an undead lich, or use her knowledge for her own benefit and harm others. When the insolent woman caressed his face, Frollo hissed lowly and had to lean onto the table so he would remain standing, the pain on his back was unbearable. The royal guards entered the loft and approached to surround Gothel. Gothel winced in pain as she sent magic into him, healing his back at least to a degree, the disappeared completely.
Frollo opened his grey eyes, he experienced a warm sensation, and the excruciating pain diminished. His gaze focused on time to observe Gothel vanish, her image fade as if she transformed into a spirit, and she was no more. All the souls that witnessed the witchcraft were frightened, but not Claude Frollo, who was angered and humiliated. He ordered the guards to search ad try to find the woman, a patrol and the monks were specially designated to protect La Fidele while the Minister prepared all necessary to have the bell melted, as gold it could be more useful to acquire provisions for the upcoming fall and winter, feed those least fortunate, built another church to honour the Lord, or a hospital, anything than just be used on a nonsensical festival to 'cherish love' and being the easiest target for thieves, and Frollo cared not the bell was provided by the late king of France. Controlling the sea fire created by the Minister, the impressive bell was changed into smaller pieces of gold, and transported with all security and discretion to the castle of Louvre. the task was completed by late night, and after hearing there were no traces yet about the sorceress of crystal eyes, Frollo retired to his chambers at the Palais de la Cité.
The old man was furious still, and his frustration vented against chairs and books that were knocked to the ground in a fit of rage as Frollo has not performed before the fireplace in almost an entire year. Finally, once he was rendered exhausted physically and emotionally, he collapsed on the bed and removed his garments until the last one was his white chemise, and this was when he realised that after being plunged down, he had almost no pain. Indeed, the bruises on his back and legs were almost gone; how could that be possible? With all the tribulations, he had forgotten to drink his curative potion... could it be, that the miserable witch, she healed him?! that was the last straw. Images of the lascivious sorceress appeared on his mind to further torment him. He loathed the irreverent, bold woman, he promised himself to be the one to send her to meet her fate at the pyre. Tears of frustration were released, he hated himself for his failure; he embedded his nails on the bedsheets, tearing the fabrics apart.
That kiss from her, venomous and bitter, revealed to him to be the sweetest wine, a wine he would desire to become greatly intoxicated with for all the eternity. Gothel, she had won this battle.
Gothel appeared on the outskirts of the city, exhausted, and quickly put the hood back over her head. She sat for several minutes to collect strength, then she headed down to the docks and boarded a boat to return home. While she lie there awake, for it was impossible to sleep in the middle of the ocean, she reached down her bodice and pulled out the small gem. She'd done it. And this came as a great surprise to her, she had come here with the thought that this would be absolutely impossible! And yet, she'd done it. She thought of the Minister. Something told her that this wouldn't be the last time she saw him, and this brought mixed emotions. She knew he'd likely try to kill her, but surely she could escape again from that fate. But she couldn't help but to not hate the man... He was only doing his duty, was he not? She contemplated this until she was back in her country. She returned to the tower she called home, hid the gemstone, and fell asleep.