Okay, I'm back. Sorry that this one took me so long, but Claude and gluttony were kind of a hard match. I've also been busy looking for work and getting set to go back to school.
Anyways…I'm doing a series of vignettes based on the 7 Deadly Sins and they all center around Claude. The first one and the first chapter being lust. The vignettes are not related to one another, there isn't really any order, rhyme or reason to them. These are all book based and graphic.
This chapter is a "what if" scenario. It's what if Claude had one night followed Esme to the Court of Miracles and just took part in some debauchery.
I do not own any of the characters, Victor Hugo does.
Reviews and constructive criticism are always greatly appreciated, however flames not so much.
It was one of those rare, hot and muggy early evenings. The sun had set about an hour ago and the sky's spectrum ran from topaz, sapphire, amethyst to deep black. There was no breeze and onyx clouds covered the scant stars and pearl moon. In the haze and with the heaviness of the air, Claude had decided to take a break from his experiments. He was standing, watching the few moving torches down below and listening to the scattered voices and revelry. He had studied too much today and was hoping to catch a glimpse of her. By now she would be hurrying off to that vile layer of miracles, as were the rest of those still lingering in the streets. They would all be off to some hovel to drain the city of wine and mead. He sighed, forlornly knowing that his brother was amongst them and dully counted the number of flames he could see.
"Flames…one day I will hold the one which makes gold."
Looking back at his desk with its papers strewn, glass vials, stones and one lone candle he suddenly felt disinterested and decided to take a walk. He slowly groped his way down the stairs and a corridor or two, then as he stepped foot beyond the threshold of the cathedral he saw her!
She was walking alone and with her little goat beside her. But she was walking in the opposite direction of his normal walking route. As she passed him he could have easily reached out and grabbed her soft arm or her raging locks of hair. He longed to know what she felt like! He would easily pull her into the cathedral, hold her close and…as he was dreaming she had walked on.
"The flame…the sun. If the sun is all it takes to make her love me, then I will one day hold it in my hands. I will have it strung on a necklace for her and give it to her as a gift."
At this thought he shook his head and turned around, back into the cathedral. It was better not to be caught at some witch's orgy.
"The sun she will have!"
He pronounced and mounted the staircase and once back inside his cell he found it difficult to work. The bells rang and he just stared blankly at a small group of stones. He was allowing his mind to wander with the girl.
He was walking beside her and the little goat had trotted ahead. She was smiling at him and thanking him for the small green stone, which she now wore around her neck. He too smiled along with her and just told her that it was the least he could offer her and that after all, she so often brightened his days with her songs and her dancing.
"It is a humble gift from an undeserving admirer."
"Will you accompany me to my home?"
He politely nodded and continued to walk by her side. Along the way he had grown tired of the silence and wanted to hear her voice. It was such a pretty and sweet little voice and he knew that the angels in Heaven must be jealous!
"My friend Pierre Gringoire tells me that you worship the sun."
She looked to the sky, saddened that the source of her worship had gone away. Yet there was the hope of tomorrow's warmth in her eyes.
"Yes."
She at last spoke.
"The sun gives warmth and light!"
It was a loving and curious sigh of adoration. Claude smiled and allowed her to lead him down an alley. He had never paid enough attention to know where she was taking him, but she had the power to lead him anywhere.
To his right was a young man, peeling a boil from his arm. To his left was a young woman pressing against an elderly man to steal his purse. There were men pulling bloody bandages away from clean skin, children who somehow re-grew legs and arms! Each came to him, held out a hand and demanded money. Some held poniards to his throat and one gray woman copped a feel below his belt. In this madness he had lost sight of Esmeralda and was being shoved from one side to the other, tossed forward and stripped of his cassock.
"What a disguise!"
A jovial and familiar voice boomed as the torn garment reached his hands.
Jehan stood atop a table and examined the frock, before himself donning it.
"Kyrie elison…"
Jehan spoke in a mock droning voice, crossing himself and then taking a sizable swig of port wine. He crowed in astonishment and delight at his elder brother's frightened and confused face.
Seeing that Jehan knew the man, the crowd dissipated and left Claude with his brother.
"And what brings my holy brother here to this 'unholiest' of places?"
Jehan snaked an arm around Claude's shoulders and led him to a chair.
"In need of some assistance with your alchemy dear brother? Or perhaps you have come in search of some new vice?"
Jehan coolly slid a mug of mead to his brother and offered him the drink.
"Come now, you are in my church now dear brother. The custom is to drink."
Jehan gulped down his mug of mead and threw his legs onto the table, crossing them.
"Where am I?"
Until now Claude had been in utter shock, unable to speak. His eyes darted around the room; women sitting on men's laps, men unlacing their hose and leaning into lewd women, the old teaching the young new tricks of the trade, the younger running and yelling. It was chaos!
"You my worthy brother are far from Notre-Dame."
Jehan answered with a cunning smirk and pressed his brother to drink.
"You are in the Court of Miracles dear brother."
Jehan stood and walked behind his brother's chair, then without warning placed his arm around Claude's neck. Immediately Claude grabbed at his younger brother's arm and gasped for air. But instead of air, Claude's throat was greeted with crude mead! Jehan had poured an entire mug of the disgusting brew into his brother's mouth. Claude gargled, sputtered and angrily regained composure.
"Have you brought your lectures of morality to me this time brother?"
Claude wiped away the excess liquid from his mouth and shook his head in embarrassment. On some baser level he had enjoyed the taste of the mead and the way it had already begun to take effect on him. He grabbed for the mug and downed it, before answering his brother.
His brain had begun to feel fuzzy and light.
"Yes. Let all the gross things of this world flutter away. Your cassock and your good senses."
A small voice had found its way to the back of Claude's thought and so he decided to tackle another mug.
"And I always did wonder about the family resemblance."
Jehan quipped, watching his brother drink this new mug more slowly.
"I was talking to someone."
The liquor had now hit his stomach and was truly beginning to cloud his better judgement.
"The little girl with the goat…"
Jehan nodded and knew who his brother was talking about and handed his brother a piece of bread.
Claude shook his head and refused the food.
"It will help you think more clearly."
"This will ease the awkwardness of speaking to her. It will make you braver and more appealing in her eyes. Just one more drink and you will be able to speak with her."
Jehan pressed the matter, trying to get his brother to take the small loaf but then giving up as Claude swatted the food away. Instead Claude guzzled a fifth mug and scanned the crowd for the woman he admired so dearly. He sloshed another mug into his hand and as he brought it to his lips spilled the entire contents of the mug into his lap. He felt numb and found little use for his brain. Jehan began to notice that his brother was tottering back and forth with a green tint to his pale skin.
Claude could hear a faint voice goading him to drink more, but his stomach rolled and churned. It was as though some creature was inside his stomach and was attempting to claw its way out! He fell forward to rest his head on the table.
"Where is she?"
Jehan could barely understand his brother's slurred speech through the belches and choking down of vomit.
"One more drink and she will appear with open arms."
At the sound of the small voice, which now seemed to drown out all other voices Claude took up another mug and took two gulps, before slumping over and grabbing at his stomach. Something was rushing up through his intestines and it made him feel sluggish.
"Can you hear me?"
Jehan shook his brother's shoulder, but Claude did not respond.
The feeling of head pain and a taste of rotten wood assaulted his tongue. It was as though he was physically sitting and talking with his brother, though he was not.
"She has gone to feed her goat, but do not worry brother she did not mean to abandon you here! She will return and find you and when she does she will want to thank you properly for that trinket you gave her. Drink up brother!"
"How much longer should I wait?"
Jehan only heard a gurgling sound and once again shook his brother's shoulder. This time Claude tottered to his feet and began to walk away from the table.
"Perhaps you should go find her. I believe she lives over there. You ought bring something for her to drink as well."
He looked back, grabbed at a mug and once in motion tilted it this way and that. Meanwhile, the effects of the alcohol crept into a fever and sweat. He placed the drink down and began to remove his tunic and use it to blot away the droplets of sweat, forming on his brow. His throat felt as though it was clenched and keeping something in, so he decided to take a few languid sips of the mead.
"What harm can a little drink do?"
The little voice was becoming further away.
"Esmeralda?"
People began to stare at the half nude and inebriated priest, but in his mind he was acting normal and they were rude to stare. He began scowling at every passerby and demanding to know where Esmeralda lived.
"Damn you all to Hell! Where is she?"
He was still sipping his mead as he shouted at the crowd. He suddenly felt the need to sit down, as the room had become unbearably hot! His stomach still fought to keep the lurking creature contained.
Jehan watched in amusement as his elder and holier than thou brother went on a drunken rampage, pulling people aside and slurring at them, shoving children aside, doubling over and taking sip after sip of the mead.
And then, what Jehan had been waiting for!
Claude could no longer move! The thing inside him had swam through his stomach and up his throat and now it burst from his lips. A horrific sound and a splash of brown liquid covered his feet as he fell to his knees in an attempt to stop.
Another burning hiccup of brown liquid covered his chest and hose. It smelled of rotten wood and overly ripe fruit! Once more and he doubled over, feeling his stomach grip itself in painful triumph. This time nothing came forth, but a second wave struck with even greater force and he could feel the murky bile spew from his lips.
His stomach now empty, he lay down in his own vomit not caring where he was or what he was doing. The pain was subsiding and he could hear footsteps nearing his head. He did not stand, nor did he glance to see who it was. He did not care. He only cared that he had drank more than his fill and needed rest. He closed his eyes and heard the angelic voice.
"Claude…"
It was a disappointed voice and as he opened his eyes he could see people walk passed him and the feet of his beloved.
It was well passed the time to eat or drink now, but Claude hungered for something. Not wanting to be awakened in a pool of his own vomit he poured a small goblet of wine and took a few sips before allowing the deep red liquor to lull him to sleep.
Not sure when I will be updating, so REVIEW! These stories take a lot of time to form and w/school starting soon they will take even more time, but heck they might come quicker if you REVIEW! And if you're one of those people who's into subliminal messages !WEIVER I'm thinking either pride or maybe envy for the next chapter.