SPOILER!
Warning: character death
Lord Frollo sighed as he entered his chambers. The day had been spent with the young Prince excitedly gushing over the previous day's feast and the excitement of it all. As annoying as that had all been he found the amount of times the prince mentioned Facilier and Esmeralda unnerving.
Frollo did not trust Facilier at all, neither should he the girl, but his heart softened at the thought of her. Her beauty was exquisite, and she had a playful, happy nature about her even he couldn't help but admire. Often he had caught himself watching her from the windows of the Palace of Justice, seeing her dance in the street with the sun caught in her raven hair. She ignited a fire within him that he found hard to ignore. Desire for her coursed through his veins and sinful thoughts plagued his mind. Many a time he had woke from sleep drenched in sweat and heat, the memory of her silky skin beneath his lips and her voice breathing out his name blazing through his mind.
No one knew of his attraction to her, he was sure of that. He hid behind a facade of disgust, to the point of hating Facilier for having this goddess to call his own. How he hated that man and strived to find some way to bring him down. But the man was careful and sneaky, he knew how to evade Frollo each time and keep his beloved pet.
Frollo collapsed into his chair before the large fire. He stared into it's depths, his eyes following the dancing figure of Esmeralda as her ghost formed within the flames, dancing with them, teasing him.
He breathed out her name, leaning closer to the flames. She formed a mist before his eyes, a ghost of white that was more real than any of his mind's illusions. She danced around him and he followed her, intoxicated by this spell, enchanted by the call of her eyes. She moved closer to him, her lips so close to his.
The pain was all he knew. The fire licked away at his skin, his screams filled the room but didn't go beyond, blocked by the Devil's spell. Soon he was silent and naught but ashes as the fire died within the crate.
In the shadows, lazily sprawled in the chair previously possessed by the Judge, sat Facilier. He smirked and stood, the shadows gathering around him, their voices chanting to him.
"No longer shall you threaten my plans, dear Judge." He said in a voice deep and cold.
The shadows enveloped him and the room was empty.
Save for a single playing card that lay on the floor before the fireplace.
The Joker smirked as the bells of Notre Dame rang out into the night.
