Frollo thinks on women. These are not my own opinions of course, but they are period typical thoughts on the nature of women. I'm trying to keep things accurate here. Basically, he is a perv that doesn't know how to process emotions. I'm trying to update and edit as much as I can, but Hyperemesis is slowing me down.
Dom Claude Frollo, former Archdeacon of Josas, finally had his hands on La Esmeralda. The object of his affections that he had spent many months pining for was his. Her tiny form laid in his arms, pliant and delicate. He gave her lips another kiss. Her taste overwhelmed his senses and he knew that he could not leave her to the hand of the executioner or the hand of the Nun Gudule that hated all of her kind.
He admitted to himself that he almost left her in the hands of the Nun Gudule. Her rejection hurt, but some couples would be unhappy at first, but grow to love each other in the end. He believed that she would grow to rely on him and love him. They would become one of the happy couples that talked for hours. He looked forward to the day that she would accept him and let it become his reality.
He knew he had to take her away. He had planned to take her away to safety after he learned of her miraculous escape from the hands of the executioner. He had prepared every detail and only waited on the proper time. He had prepared his family home at Tirechappe were they would be undisturbed for a time. Everything was ready, he only waited on her. He was an immaculate man after all.
Upon arriving at Tirechappe, he was pleased to see that everything was prepared like he had asked for. He requested for them to not be disturbed.
Claude lay down on his parent's bed and held the sleeping girl. His heart filled with emotion for this tiny creature in his arms. How far he had fallen and was willing to go for her. He was willing to give up his title, years of study, and all for the love of this girl. But what was a woman, he asked himself.
He had read about the nature of woman and had thought on it many times. He thought of how Samson, the mighty hero of old, succumbed to the charms of Delilah. Adam surrendered to the charms of Eve. He had wondered why anyone would surrender to a woman and looking down at Esmeralda, he understood why. Woman had a power over man, and he was no different. The beauty of this woman drove him, a proud man of God that never dared to look at woman, mad.
Frollo had found any material that discussed the nature of woman and remembered a passage from Malleus Maleficarum that described women as being "an unescapable punishment, a necessary evil, a natural temptation, a desirable calamity, a domestic danger, a delectable detriment, an evil of nature, painted with fair colors".
This woman was no different. He watched his world fall apart under her tiny feet. Her beautiful face and form haunted his every waking moment. His nights were filled with longing for pleasures that were yet unknown to him. He had felt the softness of her skin and had seen hints of her charms. He groaned when he remembered the way that her breast had felt under her gown. He had only seen the female form in books and art, but he knew that it would be far more beautiful.
The priest thought about lust and the words of Augustine of Hippo came to his mind. "Give me chastity and continence, but not just yet".
He had ridiculed others for their lust. He had heard of many of his fellow priests keeping mistresses and breaking their vows. At one time he fancied himself the loudest voice of chastity and held his chastity to be a supreme virtue. He longed to be rid of it. If the early Church fathers struggled with it, was it so bad for him?
He had decided that night in the cathedral that if he couldn't have her, no one would. He thought of her body twisting and palpitating under him. Her soft curves molding to his searching hands. He felt his body burn at the memory.
Frollo looked down the sleeping Esmeralda. He remembered her exposed shoulders and chest that he had seen that dreadful night that he stabbed the Captain. The memory of her bare skin had tortured him for many nights.
He stared down at her and bit his lip at the sight of her body. She was young, but he didn't realize how young. She lay before him, the picture of innocence. He blushed at the sight of her bare shoulders and the hint of breasts. He yearned to touch her and so he did. His fingers trembled with the contact.
Her neck was long like a swan and he traced her fingers down the string of her necklace to her small, round breasts. He had never seen such sweetness. He reverently touched the exposed skin and felt the way they fit in his hands. Her waist was small, yet supple. Her legs were beautifully rounded. Her calves were well muscled from dancing. He traced his long fingers down her body and burned at the hint of what lay between her legs.
No, he would not be burdened with the weight of chastity anymore.
Esmeralda let out a moan and started to stir.