Hope:

The seconds were elapsing slowly one after another as if gradually increasing the distance between them. The awaiting was getting unbearable for the minister; he knew that the gypsy was confused, scared, and hurt, but he was too and that's why he needed that.

Frollo reached slowly for her hand, grasping it tenderly, but firmly as he removed it from her mouth and attempted a second more sure and strong kiss, as he secured her head with his other arm. She did not resist in any way this time; her trembling lips opened, letting herself completely at the judge's mercy. His tongue slid deep inside her, thoroughly searching for all the sweet taste of his beloved one, which he had not been having for so long time. And now… was now God punishing him to remember all her beauty just to make him lose her again for good?

The kiss was becoming deeper, more obsessive, and more possessive as Esmeralda was finally forced to pull back in order to have the chance to catch her breath. Separated for the second time, they both were gasping heavily for the air, which their affection had taken from their lungs. Their looks met again.

"I should have never let you go," Frollo produced between his heavy breaths, bitterly staring at the gypsy. She did not reply.

The minister paused in a quiet moment and then suddenly rushed again all over her, as the weight of his body made her step backwards until her back was pinned to the stone wall behind her. Frollo's lips were once more sealed passionately to hers, stuffing uncontrollably her mouth with a mixture of gentle and rough kisses. Eager, breathless, passionate, and adoring Frollo did not gave her any chance to separate from him again, but the gypsy did not seem to mind it at all.

Pressed between the damp stones and the strong body of the minister, which was pushing her persistently, the girl felt an odd sense of comfort and delight. A warm shiver of pleasure ran through her spine, making her blood boil with unsuspected passion while her cold palms separated from the wall and grasped thirstily into the minister as if he was a life-saving vessel. Her mouth opened even more, devouring as much from his lips and tongue as she could.

"It's entirely my fault," Frollo produced barely understood between his gasps, moans, and kisses. His mouth was not separating from hers, as he breathed heavily: "I shouldn't have let you go."

His nose and forehead were pressed on her face as he tried for a brief time to inhale some air in his empty lungs, but then again slid his tongue all the way through her throat as if she was the only oxygen he needed. It followed another kiss and another… Esmeralda shifted breathlessly her head aside, pressing her cheek to the cold stone behind her, as she escaped his lips and gasped loudly for air.

"Then why did you," she asked half heard, at the same time moaning pleasurably as the new occupation of the minister was to adore with kisses her ear, cheek, and neck.

Frollo placed both his hands on the gypsy's head, slightly forcing her to turn back to him, as his own face was once again glued to hers.

"Wasn't it what you wanted," he whispered with a husky voice as his down lip went leisurely through her chin and stopped between her lips, resulting in another devouring kiss.

He pulled back from her, giving her the chance to reply as his eyes pierced at hers in a surreptitious look. Her mouth remained opened, but she did not say anything; instead her eyes started uncontrollably to burn and blurred. Before she could realize what had happened she sensed the minister's hand holding firmly her face, as his thumbs wiped away her tears. He kissed her, as the taste of the wet salt spread in their mouths. He looked her, wiping a new wave of tears, and then again returned back his tongue in her, twisting it fervently with hers.

"I love you," he breathed still being deep in her.

Esmeralda produced a faint whine; but too short of air and overwhelmed with the pressure of his body she did nothing more. Her mouth was freed for shortly, as Frollo obsessively traced with his teeth and lips once again her neck, ecstatically trembling when a loud sigh of pleasure was heard near his ear. One of his hands slid between them, feeling thoroughly her bosom and sensing delightfully the hammering heart in her chest. He found his way back to her gasping mouth filling it over and over again with his yearning tongue. Her hands clutched him by the shoulders as she lifted herself a little upper to his height, as well pressing her lips hard to his. She was completely out of air; her heart was pounding wildly; her limbs were ice cold, and yet she could not deny for any longer the only solution she knew for her intent emotions.

Their tongues were searching eagerly the moist in the other's mouth; tangling and fucking each other fervently, roughly, greedily and needy for more. A long withheld, forbidden, and feared passion was unfolding and bursting as both of them guided by controversial and frustrating feelings were trying desperately to grasp at each other, willingly drowning in the pleasures of their mortal flesh. The minister's soul was already damned in agony beyond any describable guilt; the gypsy's mind was confused, hurt, and damaged as she could not forget the misery of the past; and yet they were both now standing in the damp darkness of the underground's tortures desperate to relieve the throbbing pain with the passions of their bodies.

Frollo's hand slid further down between her breasts, to her stomach, belly button, and downer reaching the treasures of her beauty through the dirty fabric of her robe. The girl gasped loudly in pleasure, as her mouth was still half devoured by his and uncontrollably pulled her head backwards, heating the stone wall behind and biting her lip to suppress another moan from the joyful waves which were bathing her body. The minister's wiry fingers were well feeling her most tender places, as his other hand was also put down and was now gathering the white rags of her skirt. The cold air in the room hurried to sting harshly the newly exposed flesh, making cold shivers mingle with the pleasantly throbbing ones all over the gypsy. She moaned in a defenseless content as the judge's hand slid between her already lifted skirt, exploring with his cold fingers the warmth between her legs. She closed her eyes in ecstasy, groaning less controlled as for a consecutive time the minister's tongue was stuffed in her throat.

"I love you," Frollo gasped breathlessly once again, rubbing his face onto hers.

He pulled his head a little bit back so that his eyes could observe with delight the wonders in her enlarged ones as he inserted one of his fingers into her wet entrance. A whining moan sharply pierced the stilled dungeon area, making both of them feel oddly comforted that the walls of the torture room were thick.

Frollo shoved another finger in her; eagerly exploring her wet walls while his own stiffened member burned in an aching pain to fill her up. Pinned completely with her back and head to the cold stones behind her the gypsy moaned once more making the blood of the judge boil with incredible lust. His fingers moved back from between her legs, as he tightly gripped her with both of his hands by the waist and immediately pressed strongly his pelvis to hers, completely preventing the gathered fabric above her thighs to fall down. Another fierce kiss followed as the girl barely had the chance to catch her breath; and then he lifted her roughly, sliding her up the damped wall and placing himself even firmer between her legs. The new arrangement had put the gypsy into a position where a rusty and big chain was passing behind the upper part of her back, but Esmeralda was now so tightly fixed between him and the stones that she could hardly make any objections even if she wished to.

Her head was still pulled back as their lips parted with having her face above his; however the minister's mouth was continuing thirstily to suck on the skin of her neck and collar bone. One of his hands slid to the edge of her robe near her shoulder and eagerly clutched and started to wildly pull down the rag fabric, revealing more naked places where he could print his burning lips on. The cloth was diagonally stripped off her torso as it exposed in its full charms one of her breasts, filling the mouth of the minister with saliva only by its view. His teeth and tongue quickly found their way to her hardened nipple, leaking and sucking it lustfully. Completely stimulated by the pressure of his groin to hers and the joyful abuse upon her skin, the girl was panting uncontrollably, remaining breathless to express the increasing nagging pain in her back by the pressing her chain.

Frollo suddenly pulled one of his hands off her, which did not at all made any difference upon her lifted and strongly pressed body to the wall, as he hastily grabbed his white collar and impatiently ripped it off his neck. His face was immediately sunken again in her bosom while his hand directed wildly to open and tear the buttons of his black gown. The pain between his legs was getting anxiously uncontrollable, guiding his entire body to mindless lust.

His gown was opened as the stinging cold bit as well the white flesh of his naked chest, but the minister was burning with far greater fire within him to even feel the physical discomfort. With one layer removed from the way the judge's groin was once again pressed to the exposed tender parts of the gypsy as the fully erected and completely hardened member between her legs bathed the gypsy with a new wave of throbbing anticipation. The black fabric of his pants was all that was separating the two lovers to become one. Frollo's other hand traced roughly her curvaceous forms going all the way down to her thigh. He abruptly clutched and lifted it, bending her leg and pushing it at the same time to her and closer to his body placing his loin even more to her opening. Her puffs and moans overlapped, as the new position of joy as well increased the uncomfortable pain with the pressure of the uneven wall behind her.

"It hurts me," she whimpered piercingly without a breath, as her mouth was all that could move while her entire body was left completely at the mercy of the minister.

With a buried face in her chest, Frollo pulled back his head, gasping for air as his blank stare lifted above to meet hers.

"The chain…," the gypsy muttered between her heavy exhales of air after a pause, "behind me."

Frollo watched her for another second as if completely incapable to understand what her words meant, and then suddenly his arm was behind her back as the other wrapped beneath her folded knee and she was abruptly pulled from the cold wall. In the same impatient and hast manner he shifted her and without even looking anywhere different from her he carried her and dumped heavily, but not harshly, her body to a black, leather bed on the floor of the torture room. His own body followed inseparably hers as it had not past a second before he placed himself closely above her laying figure.

Without losing a moment more Frollo took hold of his pants pulling them off his loin and relieving with a moan the gathered tension from the restricted area of his erection. The gypsy's hands automatically clutched into the two pieces of his opened gown as she spread readily her legs open for him. The minister quickly put his palms on the black leather beneath them, balancing himself, as he thrust all too eager and lustful his stiffened member into her, craving to receive the sinful bliss on the same bed on which he alone had witnessed so many wretched souls to have writhed in agony.

Joy and throbbing pleasure entirely bathed both of their bodies numbing all their worries and pain while pushing them in the ocean of carnal desires. Frollo shoved his full length deep in her making her body jerk with throbbing delight. Esmeralda was suffocating with the gasps of air, as her lungs seemed to have shut down, leaving her with an open mouth and enlarged sparkling-in-the-dark emerald eyes. The minister withdrew from her almost fully, as she made a slight whimper, sliding her hands around his body and holding onto him as strong as she could. He penetrated her fully again and again, each time shortening the pauses between it and increasing the hot friction of their genitals.

Frollo's lips, burning for hers, leaned and stuffed in her opened mouth his tongue, engaging in another possessive and rough kiss; sucking, biting, abusing, and bruising the girl's soft flesh. Esmeralda did not seemed to mind at all; tangled completely with the minister's body she was as submissive servant to all his wishes as one possibly could. Moans and groans were escaping between the gaps of their joined mouths, panting and breathing heavily into each other incapable to separate.

Suddenly the judge jerked his head backwards, closing his eyes and biting his own lip as the rhythm of his thrusts increased. Any control over their moans was completely destroyed; the dark room filled up with the gypsy's overlapping groans of joy as Frollo became to ram her harder and harder. Her legs were buckling; her chest was intensely rising and falling; her mouth was dry; her eyelids were trembling rapidly, blurring all her vision; and her entire body was withering with pleasurable agony. In a similar state, all covered in sweat, the minister was continuing to roughly shove his burning groins into her, directing entirely all the anger of today's events into the pleasure of the moment. He puffed louder and louder, sensing the approaching of the final waves of joy, as one of his hands slid to her breasts, rubbing roughly her hard nipples, sending her as well to her ultimate moments of bliss.

Esmeralda withered, jerked, and screamed louder and louder beneath him as throbbing ecstasy was filling her entire essence. Finally the intense ache had reached the peak of pleasure that a human body can bear and burst powerfully, spreading indescribable joys all over her as the gypsy produced her lasts moans of relieve. The scene was more than enough to throw the minister as well to the sinful heaven, greatly reducing the tension between his legs as the warm thick fluid spurted into the already wet insides of the gypsy. He panted again and again, closing his eyes, and exhaustively relaxing his body over the one of the gypsy.

The minutes were elapsing hollowly in the restored silence, which was only interrupted by the heavy gasps for air from the two otherwise motionless figures. Their breaths had somewhat returned to their lungs as the minister lifted himself a little bit above her and stared at her oddly calmed eyes. Her look pierced at him as well, as if daring him for one more kiss of affection, but he did nothing. After a pause Esmeralda felt him withdrawing from her, as she felt unpleasantly empty, and a thought that had never before passed her mind suddenly hit her so unexpectedly that she did not even had the chance to deny it. She did not wish him to leave her…

Without having any control over her actions Esmeralda's hands wrapped around his neck, preventing him to continue moving away from her, and pulled him to her lips. She kissed him faintly waiting for response as her heartbeat increased in fear that there would be none. However, after a short pause she was responded back with a slightly firmer kiss which was still very tender. She sighed in relieve and encouraged her tongue searched for his resulting in many little affectionate moments one after the other.

"Please don't leave me," she whispered barely heard in his mouth.

Her hands traced the back of his neck circling to the front and going down his broad naked chest. Another and yet another soft kiss followed while her palms, half-way down his torso, moved beneath the opened lose gown sliding along the flesh of his back. They moved further down pulling his body closer to hers as her legs as well wrapped around his.

It is needless to say what thrills of joy beyond any physical one was filling the minister's heart as those acts of affection excited all over again his body. Half-way erected the head of his member was pressing once more at the wet opening of his lover. He kissed her more profoundly and yet his kisses now were not like the ones before; they were far tenderer, devoting, and loving... but as well carrying within them a feeling of guilt, sorrow, and the oppressing sense as if they were the last ones before saying goodbye.

He knew what he had to do and yet he could not let go. His heart sank within him as the gypsy put warmly her palm and finger over his cheek but he had to put an end to it while he still had the strength. His hand grabbed firmly hers, preventing her affectionate path through his cheek and hair, as he separated from her lips, feeling at the same time some dark weight filling his entire essence. Still holding her tightly, he pressed her hand on the leather bed as his stare was still incapable to move from her enchanting and now confused one. He sighed bitterly, forcing to close his eyes in a great inner pain, and once her adoring image was not before his view he found enough strength to pull back from her.

He rolled off her body, sitting on the edge of the created for tortures bed, and pulled his pants over his still somewhat excited groins, forcing himself not to think for the joyous sins. He got up, and set to fix the damages of his earlier lustful impatience over his gown. Esmeralda was not moving; she had just turned her head aside to observe him blankly.

After the minister had finished with his gown he barely turned his head, glancing without even seeing the gypsy, and yet knowing more than well in what condition he was to find her.

"You better dress yourself," he said in a hollow voice, as his look was fixed somewhere in the empty space. He added after a pause: "… guards will come to take you to your prison after I leave."

"What," the gypsy mumbled after some heavy silence, refusing to comprehend his words.

He did not reply anything; instead he went to the wall where he had thrown carelessly his white collar and picked it up from the floor. He was fixing around his neck, as the gypsy was still watching him blindly while gradually his words were piercingly coldly through her. Suddenly the sting of the freezing damp hit her and she became more realized of her exposed body. Hastily, she said on the edge of the bed and fixed the poor and torn rag that was supposed to serve as a robe on her as much as it could cover and keep her warm.

"What are you doing," she asked stupefied, incapable to move her eyes from the minister.

He had completely finished dressing as he looked at her in bitter guilt, but did not reply anything again.

"You are going to leave me…," she whimpered with blurred vision, realizing that he would not say it out loudly "… to die."

"The law is clear, I can't make an exception for you," the minister stated mechanically, while within him he felt as if a poisonous dagger was tearing apart his heart.

"What? ... Of course you can do whatever you want; you are the executor of the law in this city," the gypsy was whimpering half- realizing what she was saying.

"It would not be morally right to misuse the king's trust laid upon me," Frollo declared, barely managing to see her cry.

What use was there to tell her the true reason of his actions if he could not prevent anything? Did it matter at all if she knew that he was powerless to stop her sentence; that he was not anymore in charge for the execution of laws in this city; and that Olivier was the one guiding his hand while the judge was sending her to death? How could she understand that fate had thrown her to be the wretched victim with whom the minister was supposed to proof himself? No, it would not make any difference; no, it was easier for her to blame him completely as at least in that way her already confused, controversial, and troubling emotions would be relieved in her last days of living. Her suffering would be less if she had someone to blame for it; but more importantly Frollo would be more capable of doing what was requested from him if he was seeing in her eyes only reproach and detest, and not the affection he had longed for a moment ago.

"And would it be morally right to kill me even if you know that I am guiltless," the gypsy protested desperately as she found herself oddly bothered more by his rejection to her than to the suggestion of her future death.

Frollo looked aside but did not reply anything. He headed to the door knowing that if he did not leave now he would not have the strength to do it.

"Don't leave me, please," Esmeralda cried out behind him, completely forgetting everything else but the fear that she would lose him. How, when, and why the pure hatred she had for him had transformed into something else she did not know, but now the realization and moreover the dread of him leaving her was making her brave enough to say out loud things she did not dare to admit even to herself. She made a few steps to him crossing half-way the room as she whimpered miserably: "Please… if you love me… I can't… I…I love you."

Frollo stopped paralyzed as her words pierced painfully in him making him feel sicker than if she had yelled after him that she hated him. He swallowed bitterly, whole trembling and trying to detach from the hurricane of agony that was forming within him.

He turned towards her.

"No, you don't," he said dryly with a cynical smirk on his face.

Esmeralda's eyes were burning with hot tears and her heart was wildly hammering at her chest but she was refusing to let go.

"You can't possibly know how I feel," she protested with a shaky voice as she closed the distance between them staring straight at his dark eyes and wishing nothing more on the world than to feel his embrace around her. Did she at all meant what she was saying she did not know; all that she knew is that her emotions had reached a dangerously tender peak and she hopelessly need someone to soothe them.

Her eyes upon him were getting more and more unbearable; the minister shifted his head aside looking at the empty space for a second, then suddenly grabbed her harshly and violently rushed her to the nearest wall, heating insensitively her back and head onto the stones.

"Can't I," he roughly hissed into her ear. "I know more than well how you felt whenever I was imprisoning and killing your people, or was that love?" He shook her by the shoulders violently, continuing with a scolding and cynical voice: "Have you so quickly forgotten that have you not agreed to be my whore I would have burned you months ago without a second thought?"

"Stop it," she pleaded, unable to hear him anymore. He hit her to the wall harder.

"Why do you think there is any difference now? Why! Answer me!"

Esmeralda was whimpering miserably:

"Because you love me."

The minister laughed with bitter supercilious voice.

"Did I love you when I opened your legs and dishonored you? Was it love that made me deprave you from your virtue! Well, answer me, damn it!" Frollo clutched her face and hit it roughly to the stones. Esmeralda tried to push him away but she succeeded only to free her mouth.

"Stop it, I don't care! I love you now," she yelled half-way crying.

Frollo watched her stupefied for a moment but then rushed to her lips kissing her in a brutal manner that was resembling anything else but a kiss. The painful act was getting unbearable as the gypsy put all her strength to push him off her face and slap him with all the power that her bruised dignity had. The minister grabbed both of her hands pinning them to the wall as his face stopped very close to hers.

"What is the matter, don't you love me now," he yelled fiercely before her. "For goodness sake what is wrong with you? I humiliated, beat, and dishonored you in any way possible!" The minister's hand slid roughly to her stomach, pushing it strongly against the wall, "I made you kill the wretched soul that I have shoved in you! Did you love me then? Well, did you?" Esmeralda did not reply; Frollo's hand went further down, pushing violently between her legs. "Or maybe you just love to be abused and fucked hard; is that it, you little whore!"

"Stop it, stop it, stop it," the gypsy screamed louder and louder, as she finally succeeded to fully push him off her, making him step a few steps backwards and make a great effort to stay on his feet. He remained there. "Do you want me so badly to hate you," she yelled with tears in her eyes, still with her back to the wall. "Fine! I HATE YOU; leave me, let them kill me as long as your conscious is clear; I hate you," the gypsy shed uncontrollably her tears as her first wave of detest was spent. "Apparently you don't care about me, but why are you putting it on me? Damn it, be a man and say that you DON'T LOVE ME!"

Frollo stood up there completely dumbfounded. He could not say anything more than what he had already said. He speechlessly turned to the door and unlocked it, preparing to leave. As the gypsy saw that, a new wave of miserable sorrow hit her making her sob louder.

"But why," she muttered between the cries, "what is so wrong to share your love?"

The minister opened the door and paused:

"There's nothing wrong in it," he sighed in a contained voice, "but there is in everything else."

He left as he noisily slammed the door behind him. Esmeralda let out a sobbing exhale, unable to breathe or think anymore. She collapsed on the floor, miserably giving a voice to all her pain and awaiting the guards to take her away from the room of tortures.

FROLLO's wrath was rising with even greater wave of fierceness than before. He crossed the dark corridors in complete trance of anger as he saw a couple of guards before him. They acknowledged him appropriately.

"Minister…"

"There is a gypsy in the torture room that needs to be transferred to a prison," the judge interrupted them sharply with a superior tone. They nodded ready to follow the order when their way was once again interrupted: "And you better consider yourself warned that even if a hair of her head is hurt you would pay for it with your lives no matter who is to blame," he barked fiercely as he left the two bewildered guards behind him.

It was only when he had reached the first floors when he found a soldier from the army, immediately addressing him.

"Found the two men responsible for the capturing of the gypsy this afternoon," he ordered to the soldier, "and bring them as possible as you could to me."

"Yes, sir," the man hurried to agree and left the minister.

It was almost dark outside and Frollo knew that soon he had to go to the king's messenger and be hollowly pleasant before the man who was accountable for probably the greatest pain within the minister, but there was still time before it to spill his anger if not to the delegate so at least to the second guilty participants in the event.

THE TEARS on Esmeralda's face were already dried, leaving only the red and puffed cheeks as a trace of her internal agony. She was miserably sitting in her completely dark cell; where no light could be seen. It must have passed midnight but there was no way she could be sure.

Her nerves were spent, her mind and body were exhausted and she did not have the strength for anything at all. What thoughts or feelings were crossing her head were hard to distinguish when suddenly she heard a noise of approaching steps. Miserable hope filled the wretched as she lifted her head and stared intently at the dark. There was a torch near one of the walls outside her cell but the produced flame was too poor to light anything at all. Nevertheless the figure had come to her cell as she could recognize in the dark only the motion of a lose cloth around it.

"Frollo…" she whispered her heart pounding with broken hope. In that moment the figure came enough into the light so it could be distinguished. The gypsy sensed a cold wave running through her as she murmured half-disappointed: "Phoebus."