A/N: I haven't written too much for Captain Phoebus, who I've always liked, in both the German musical and the Disney movie, though I'm a softie for Quasi, I love both men in their own right, for drastically different reasons, and I hope I did this Phoebus chapter of him meeting Esmeralda justice.
Chapter Seventeen: Sanctuary
CAPTAIN Phoebus considered himself a man who would do whatever it took to achieve the necessary results, and the flickering light from the torch held in his gloved hand danced wildly across the young dancer's face as the golden-haired captain held her shoulder captive pinned against the stone wall. From what he could make out of the young woman from the limited light coming from the torch held in hand, she was just a dull raven-haired Romani with a petite face, dressed in a simple purple and blue dress and scarf around her waist, and was currently turning her head to the side, eyes squeezed shut.
No doubt Phoebus had accidentally blinded her by thrusting said torch in front of her face to get a closer look, but also, he gathered by the droplets of sweat on her brow that was starting to drip down her temples, she was afraid of what was going to become of her in prison.
The captain of the king's guard hesitated, biting the wall of his cheek, not wanting to obey the judge's harsh command that he escort this young woman to await imprisonment at the Palace of Justice, when the only thing this dancer was guilty of, was having a compassionate heart.
Captain Phoebus felt the ebony-haired woman flinch slightly as the burning torch held in his hand hovered dangerously close to her skin, and he swore he smelled a black curl of her hair start to singe and burn, but she barely moved because of his ironclad grip. He smirked.
Smart girl. She knew better than to attempt to fight off a seasoned war veteran soldier.
He took advantage of the silence to allow himself a moment to study her features. The first thing he was drawn to about this dancer was her skin. It was surprisingly smooth and supple. Pristine almost, especially for a woman past her bloom. He did not know her exact age, but he would have guessed her to be in her early twenties, mid-twenties at best. Phoebus let out an exasperated sigh and gave the girl a weary, sideways glance that she missed. As interested in this woman as he was, he was also an impatient man, and eager to get this over with.
Madellaine de Barreau was patiently waiting downstairs in the main level of the cathedral's sanctuary, needing to be escorted back to the Palace of Justice, and he could not shake the feeling the Judge was in a particularly sour mood, which wouldn't bode well for him or his men tonight, he imagined.
And then there was the matter of their impending engagement that brought a grimace to his face. Neither one of them wanted this wedding for themselves, though until he could figure out how to get the pair of them out of it, he would bloody well play along if that's what it took to keep her safe.
They might not ever be bosom friends, he, and Lucien Barreau's daughter, but he was not about to abandon her and leave the poor thing to fend for herself out on the street. He had promised Madellaine's father when he had visited Lucien in his home a few days prior to the unforgivable act that he had committed against the old man in aiding him to die a warrior's death, that he would look after his old friend and commander's daughter. And no matter what happened to him, he aimed to keep that promise, but for now, a much bigger problem was currently staring him in the face, and then it hit him.
Phoebus did not know this 'problem's name. He did not know what this girl had done exactly to incite the Judge's anger further, and whether or not she was guilty, he did not care.
Slowly lowering the torch in his hand, the gilded golden-haired, self-proclaimed Sun God sanguinely turned his gaze back towards the young wench pressed up against the wall. And very nearly dropped his torch out on the balcony as two youthful and wide almond-shaped green eyes were staring at him, widened in shock and fear as Phoebus stared right back.
Captain Phoebus felt his throat hollow and constrict as it started to tighten, cutting off precious air to his passageways, right as he had been about to open his mouth to speak to demand that she come with him quietly, as he did not want a fuss in this holy place. Though this creature that he had just rather unceremoniously pushed up against the cold stone wall of the balcony was…not exactly what Phoebus had been expecting.
He had not been able to get a solid enough look at this strange material of beauty during the Festival of Fools earlier, and she really was a beautiful woman. The ebony-haired woman was panting heavily, her breast rising and falling from exertion.
Captain Phoebus thought the dancer wasn't much in terms of height, for she barely came up to the top of his shoulders.
The woman's loose black curly hair was wild, disheveled slightly from the cold night breeze that wafted onto the balcony and through the bell tower loft. Phoebus furrowed his blond brows into a frown as he thought of the poor wretch that lived up here all alone in such a desolate and miserable tower loft.
The dancer reminded him of a restless bird, a free spirit, teeming with life but unable to escape from its cage, its prison.
It was those eyes of hers… Captain Phoebus swallowed down hard past the growing lump in his throat as she merely continued to stare at him with those widened, fearful eyes. The usual nonsense, of course, where he, as captain of the cathedral guard and of the king's archers, would have no choice but to threaten her, drag her downstairs against her will if need be, frighten her, if she did not comply, when she finally spoke.
"Are you arresting me?" The question she had just posed to him was laced with bitterness and an accusatory tone which Phoebus de Chateaupers thought unfounded and he didn't deserve. Though as he slowly swiveled his head to look at her, he had expected to see the fear in those forest green orbs of hers, but instead what he found there were minor anger and curiosity.
The Romani dancer was regarding the golden-haired Captain of the cathedral guard as though he were some foreign creature that she had just discovered, not a seasoned war hero. Any other young maiden might have looked away, their cheeks flushing red with embarrassment as he flirted with them.
But not her. No. This woman's gaze was unabashed and unwavering. She yielded to no one, not even a soldier like him.
It almost felt to Phoebus as though this she-stranger knew exactly what lay beyond his own hardened gaze, his heart hardened after so many years on the front, watching friends and family perish on the frontlines, and he vowed he would do whatever it took to never go back again, and even with this knowledge, knowing full well the bitterness had seeped into his gaze, the girl did not avert her gaze once from him, didn't flinch.
It was unsettling for the captain, to say the very least. This woman, whatever her name was, whoever was, was a strange one. Not that Captain Phoebus really gave this a second thought.
The gilded, golden-haired man sighed and pinched at the front of his temples and huffed in exasperation, slowly returning his attention back to the woman he still held pinned to the wall.
Whatever she had done to incur the Judge's wrath, it must have been with ill intent. Though he could not deny the woman had a pretty face, seeing her up close like this. It was much more than he had bargained for, and he would go light on her, assuming the girl came quietly and did not make this part of his job more difficult, not only for himself but for her, as well.
"Not so long as you're in here," Phoebus murmured, lowering his gaze, though he tightened his grip and hardened his gaze slightly. "I can't." The ebony-haired woman with the curls as black as night no doubt got his intended message, for the curiosity which had been brimming in those glistening green orbs of hers, not even a half a second ago were now replaced with a horrible sense of bland resignation that did not suit the girl.
Captain Phoebus felt himself relax as he watched as the woman's shoulders slumped forward and she nodded in understanding, and yet, he felt eerily disappointed by her change of expression, although he couldn't put his finger on it.
"What happened? Answer me, and don't think of lying to me, mademoiselle. I detect when you lie," he grumbled evenly.
"I…" the girl stammered, her green eyes widening, not feeble and high-pitched as he had expected, but low and husky.
Something between herself and the Judge must have transpired for the shift in her countenance to be so evident on her face, the way her face drained of colors, and she looked away. "The judge, he…he asked if I would stay in the cathedral."
Phoebus nodded, not even realizing he let go of the girl, an act which resulted in her slumping gracelessly to the balcony floor. She did not cry out in pain or surprise, and the dancer merely proceeded to lower her head and rest her hands on the cold stone floor, not letting out even a tiny whimper as she did.
The girl lifted her head just slightly, and the moment they locked eyes, the beautiful creature immediately cringed and bit down on her bottom lip. "When I refused his…advances, Judge Frollo became angered and called for you. I—I suppose I should be lucky you arrived in time before he…" Though her voice broke, and she did not complete her thought as a shudder went down her back. "What laws have I broken, monsieur, to warrant such an arrest? What judge executes a sentence before I am even brought to trial? Would I even get one, with what I am?"
She gestured bitterly towards herself, tugging on a curl of her hair, twisting the lock between her thumb and forefinger, and dropped her hand and nervously fidgeted with a ring on her right hand, twisting it, still biting down hard on her bottom lip.
Phoebus bit the wall of his cheek as he wracked his brain trying to think of something to say to put Judge Frollo's intended prisoner at ease.
"You challenged his authority, mademoiselle, and caused quite a disruption at the festival when you dared to speak out against the cruelty towards that poor creature inside. Our judge does not take kindly to this fact and seeks to use you to make an example to the other citizens of Paris. It is simply a fact, young mademoiselle, and I cannot change his mind," he said, at last, speaking slowly and cautiously, careful to mind his choice of words and his tone so as to not sound accusatory.
The last thing he wanted was to scare her.
Esmeralda nodded in understanding, though that did not make the precarious of her position that she had inadvertently placed herself in any less daunting. If anything, it made it more so. She looked taken aback by the golden-haired captain's simple statement, though Esmeralda quickly recovered and when she found her voice, her inner resolve grew and she slowly rose from her perch on the floor, having to use the wall behind her as a brace to steady herself, and promptly swatted the Captain's hand away when he made a move forward to help her.
"Let go of me!" she snapped. "I can walk myself, thank you," she answered stiffly, narrowing her green eyes until they were practically slits and glowering at the golden-haired captain.
"Feisty one, aren't you?" Captain Phoebus grinned, letting a chuckle escape his lips despite the trepidation he felt, and the fact remained that he was going to have to arrest this girl, soon.
The ebony-haired woman did not respond to his quip, seeming to take offense to his attempt at humor. Instead, she merely proceeded to raise her eyebrows in alarm at the captain as she brushed her hands on the skirts of her simple dress.
Captain Phoebus did not bother to stifle his grin as he raised his hands in self-defense and inclined his head as a show of respect. "Very well, mademoiselle. I meant no offense by it."
He shifted at the waist slightly and turned towards the young woman and offered her his arm, jerking his head towards the interior of the creature's bell tower loft, silently communicating that their time up here at the top of the world was up. There was a pitying look in the man's hazel eyes that made Esmeralda feel incredibly conflicted as to if he did not want to act on Judge Frollo's orders and yet, held no other choice.
"You are to come with me, mademoiselle," he announced calmly, stepping forward and made a move as if to grab onto her arm. "I don't want to arrest you on account of I do not believe you are at fault for whatever happened between you and our judge, but I haven't any other choice. Can you not understand?"
Captain Phoebus recognized he was pleading with her now, though, in his mind, he just wanted more time to linger and be near her. His gaze drifted up and down the length of her body. She had pinkish-tipped fingers, tinged from the cold night air, and gentle. Cheeks flecked with pink, also from cold, and Phoebus was quick to admire as the wind tousled her raven black hair off her slender shoulders and into buoyant curls.
The girl huffed in frustration and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "There is always a choice, Captain," she murmured.
"What do you suggest then?" Phoebus grumbled darkly. He had not even realized he had steered her towards the stairwell of the bell tower loft until they reached the top step. He frowned.
His ears perked up at a noise coming from the rafters high above their heads. Captain Phoebus swiveled his head upwards and his pleasant mood at being in the young woman's company instantly dissipated when he saw the strange, misshapen figure peeking through the wooden beams of the rafters above them.
Spying on them.
The captain recognized this cretin: grimy, a hideous wretch, and an assault on the senses in every way. The only thing visible of the monster was his shock of ginger hair that looked as though he had been kissed by fire when he was but a babe, and his pair of brilliantly bright blue eyes, burning bright with anger, as hot as lit midnight torches.
Captain Phoebus furrowed his blond brows into a frown, thinking that many of the citizens of Paris at the festival today had wanted to take its life out of mercy, instead of seeing it cower and tremble in timidity at the sight of Judge Frollo.
When the accursed demon and the captain of the cathedral guard immediately locked eyes, the monster cringed and left, retreating higher up into the rafters and into the shadows as if Phoebus himself had fired an arrow squarely at the boy's chest.
The young woman, sensing her would-be captor's attention had fluttered to somewhere behind her, turned her back, and craned her neck, following Phoebus's gaze to see what lurked above, and saw only empty rafter beams above their heads.
Captain Phoebus let out a haggard sigh and shook his head to clear it, not wanting to escort her down the stairwell.
In his mind, he wanted more time to linger with her.
"What's your name?" he asked her. The girl stared at the gilded golden-haired captain's hazel eyes and the familiar awe created a prickling spasm under his skin, though not unpleasant. It felt to the captain as though the girl were looking deep into him, looking for assurance and trust—with fear.
He had only asked her name. What would give her cause to doubt his integrity? It took a while before she answered his query with lowered eyelashes and a soft voice barely audible.
"Is this an interrogation?" she asked, her voice drawling.
It set him faintly smiling. "I believe they called this an introduction," Phoebus joked weakly, hoping to set her at ease.
There was a beat. A pause. The captain thought the girl might not answer him at all just to spite and torment him further, to toy with him like the minx he knew her to be, but then— "Esmeralda," she answered, a smile playing on her lips.
His smile grew. "It suits you. Milady," he murmured, inclining his head as a show of respect, and a lock of yellow hair tumbled in front of his face that he became annoyed with, swiping it out of the way in one fell swoop of his thumb.
"And you?" Esmeralda pressed, trying to sound as polite as possible.
"Ah. Permit me. I should have mentioned my name first. My name is Phoebus. Phoebus de Chateaupers, at your service, milady. It means…Sun God." He meant it as a jest, but the way she rolled her eyes told the man it wasn't funny, and the smile on his face quickly wiped out. He cleared his throat as if to unsay everything but was glad she saved him from the embarrassment when Esmeralda spoke up again softly.
"An interesting name, Captain." She wanted to snort but raised an eyebrow at him incredulously for his 'sun god' quip.
He was very much, in her eyes, a flirt, and she'd had enough experience with men like Pierre Gringoire and Clopin to know. She cared not for men who sought hard to gain a woman's affections. It seemed forced and not genuine in her mind, really.
Silence reigned as the pair climbed the stairwell, with Phoebus's heart sinking lower and lower to the pit of his churning stomach. The inevitable moment had come at last.
He figured the heavy silence lingered between them because Esmeralda was looking at something on his person that sparkled on his chest, and she would be right in that regard.
Captain Phoebus took the chained golden wedding ring he had intended to bestow to Madellaine and held it out to Esmeralda, handing it to the ebony-haired girl for inspection. It was a simple thing on its chain, used to belong to his lady mother before her passing. No engravings of any kind, just a plain yellow gold wedding ring. He had thought it would suit her, though now, knowing what he knew now, he wasn't sure.
Esmeralda took it with a light nod of gratitude and eyed the simple wedding ring. Captain Phoebus could sense the girl was almost rendered breathless, and almost conspiring to keep it.
And what was even stranger, he decided, was that he'd not have minded if she had. She could even see her reflection in the gold, minimized and distorted though it was, it did not alter her ache for it, and that was the moment when the captain of the archers recognized the young dancer wanted more of life.
He smirked, for he could see the look of longing in her pale green orbs as she held the ring on its chain at her eye level, staring at it. "Is it from your wife?" Esmeralda questioned, already having given away the hint that she wanted it for herself.
Good to know, Phoebus thought, as he bit the wall of his cheek and ran his tongue along the top wall of her teeth. "No."
Esmeralda pulled her eyes from the ring and looked at him.
"A lover?" She challenged, suddenly seeming intrigued.
He chuckled. "I have none." He shook his head, half-smiling. His gaze wandered from Esmeralda's face to her cheek and remained fixated on her lips, finding himself captivated.
Not yet, is what he wanted to say, but managed to restrain himself, thinking it would be highly inappropriate. But then again, what soldier or man in their right mind wouldn't be? Her face alone was more than enough to attract an entire army.
Esmeralda looked as though she wanted to say something, but thought better of it, for she pursed her lips shut and looked away, though not before Captain Phoebus caught sight of a light pink blush speckling along her cheeks, and he smiled at the girl.
The captain of the cathedral guard was not even aware the pair of them had reached the bottommost step and stepped off the stairwell, and it did not escape Phoebus's attention how Esmeralda cast a nervous, skittish glance towards the doors.
Claude Frollo stood waiting, impatiently, with his hands folded together and resting in front of his middle. The Captain practically felt Esmeralda stiffen as their shoulders touched.
Phoebus was disturbed to have sensed the prickling on Esmeralda's skin. It was as if she could sense the refined gentleman shooting her a venomous look of daggers from all across the way, without she having to look in Frollo's direction.
He noticed that her fingers curled instinctively into a tight fist over the simple yellow gold ring on its chain, though not out of a reluctance to give it back to him, but clinging her last shreds of sanity, pouring herself into the piece of jewelry as though it were her lifeline. "Keep it," Phoebus murmured lowly.
Esmeralda blinked owlishly at the gilded golden-haired captain, a look of shock on her face as it drained of all colors.
"Wh-what?" she stammered, as though she had misheard, but Phoebus was not fooled at all. He knew she had heard him.
He watched, minorly amused, as Esmeralda glanced down at the ring on its chain and made to hand it back, but he refused. Phoebus reached out a gloved hand and curled her fingers back over the ring, and offered a soft, reassuring smile.
"It's yours," he said, lowering his voice so that there was no possibility of either the Judge or his hearth keep overhearing them. The look of shock and disbelief on her face was worth it.
"I—oh, no, but Captain, I cannot take this! Here," Esmeralda muttered and immediately began trying to give the ring back, to which Phoebus promptly shook his head no.
"No. Keep it. Consider it a…" A what? His conscience taunted, sounding entirely too much like a snake hissing in his ear for the golden-haired captain's comfort. "A promise. Consider that as a token of my…affections, and that I will do everything within my power to save your life tonight, milady," he said at last, determination and resolve evident on his handsome face.
Esmeralda said nothing, though a tiny smile of gratitude crept over her face as she wordlessly slid the chain around her neck and tucked the ring carefully inside the bodice of her dress. Doing so effectively hid it from plain view.
From Frollo, Phoebus thought, a darkened look flitting across his sun-kissed features as his gaze slid towards the Judge where he stood waiting with Madellaine and none other than Lieutenant Frederic, who, it did not escape his attention that Madellaine looked more than a little displeased to see the dark-haired handsome soldier again. He furrowed his brows in thought.
Something down here in the nave had happened earlier between the Judge's hearth keep and his own lieutenant, and for reasons that were unknown to him, the girl covered for Frederic. He aimed to find out why, but first things first. Esmeralda.
"I might have an idea of how I can save your life, Esmeralda, but it requires you to trust me, milady. Can you?"
A pause in her response was nothing that Phoebus could have hoped for, and he felt his heart sink and his face become crestfallen as the light within her forest green orbs dimmed a bit. He could surely sense the revolt she nursed for him, and whatever harebrained scheme his two working brain cells were concocting in order to ensure she was not about to be arrested.
It seemed to take Esmeralda an eternity to find her voice. "Yes. What's your idea, Captain Phoebus?" she asked, drawing in a breath that hitched in her throat as the captain leaned in close and whispered his idea into the shell of her ear.
She shivered as a tremor went down her spine at the unexpected closeness. "Claim sanctuary," Phoebus whispered. "It's the only way that I can ensure your safety, mademoiselle."
Esmeralda froze at the captain's words. "Is there really no other way?" she pleaded, feeling a cold chill threaten to engulf her entirely, and she was not prepared when Phoebus paused.
There was something of the young Romani's voice which made him listen. Something strong and determined about it. She kowtowed to no one. Phoebus closed his eyes before looking down his nose at the young woman in his iron grasp.
Esmeralda really was a beautiful woman. Black hair, green eyes. He drew out a haggard sigh and gazed upon the woman to who he had given what was supposed to be Madellaine's ring.
She was spirited, but it was more than that. Yes, Esmeralda was beautiful, of that, any fool could see it, but in a subtle way. In the sort of way where if you happened to be observant, you would look twice at her in the streets and see a strong spirit.
This was a good thing, Phoebus decided. It meant that she could survive within these stone walls, for a little while. But it also meant that it would make her life circumstances that much more complicated if the girl ever got it in her mind to escape. But it also made it a possibility. This was the only way.
Esmeralda narrowed her eyes as she noticed Captain Phoebus staring at her in a somewhat melancholic manner.
"This is the only way, mademoiselle," he muttered, his gloved fingers tightening around her forearm as Phoebus whispered his protests into the shell of her ear, his voice lowly.
"But it will keep me out of prison and the stocks?" asked Esmeralda, raising her eyebrows in defiance, as if she were weighing in her mind whether or not to trust the captain's word.
"Yes," Phoebus heard himself reply without any hesitation on his part, shrugging his shoulders. "But I'm afraid it would mean placing you in a different kind of prison instead, Esmeralda. But your freedom from prison comes at a price."
"What do you mean?" asked Esmeralda hesitantly, nervously fidgeting with her fingers, weaving them in between her knuckles as she cast skittish glances towards Judge Frollo.
"You will never be able to leave this place," Phoebus confessed, a pained look on his weather-beaten face as he reddened in shame. "If you were to try, the Judge would see you arrested the moment you stepped one foot outside these walls."
"So, I could never see Clopin or Gwendolyn or any of the others back in my…my tribe?" murmured Esmeralda in despair.
"Yes." Phoebus inclined his head, seeming saddened by the harsh reality of the situation he had inadvertently placed her in.
Esmeralda paused, contemplating the ramifications of what she was about to do, if she chose to go along with the soldier boy's plan to save her life. She did not mistake the steel in the captain's voice. What he was saying to her was the cold truth.
"I claim sanctuary, then," she whispered, her voice sounding small and meek, and much less subdued than before.
Captain Phoebus offered a curt nod of his head in response, silently signaling that he understood at the exact same moment the two of them heard Judge Frollo call out to them.
"I'm waiting, Captain! We haven't all night, sir! You will escort her outside and—"
"I am terribly sorry, my liege," Phoebus murmured, adapting an apologetic and disgruntled tone as he raised his voice as he turned at the waist to regard the figure of authority. "But the woman has claimed sanctuary here. I can't arrest her."
The judge silently seethed, his fingernails curling into fists as they dug into the skin of his palms. His face draining of colors in anger, ignoring the young blonde hearth keep's look of barely restrained joy at the concept of her new friend being free, he raised a shaking finger and pointed it in the captain's direction.
"Then, Captain, you will drag her outside and you will—"
"Frollo!" barked a deep baritone voice, a male's. "You will not touch her!" The voice was deep, and Esmeralda and Madellaine collectively swiveled their heads in the direction of the voice, both women eliciting gasps of surprise at the figure.
The old Archdeacon of the church was striding towards Claude, Phoebus, and Esmeralda, unbridled rage on his face.
Archdeacon Mathias was old, a shriveled creature, feeble, and walked with a tottering gait, his sandals shuffling along the black and white checkered tile beneath their feet. He looked as though one good puff of wind would blow him down for good.
He had a hand tremor and a constant waggling and bobbing of the head. The old man's deep wrinkles seemed to carve a map of his life on his still agile and mobile facial features. His twinkling light green eyes were framed by thick white eyebrows and on his stubbled chin was white whiskers.
Archdeacon Mathias laid a gentle hand on Esmeralda's shoulder, trembling slightly, though when he gave it a light but reassuring squeeze, as if to convey everything would be fine, she noticed that it did not tremble quite so badly. "Are you all right, my children?" he asked, his gaze flitting towards the women.
Esmeralda and Madellaine exchanged looks of worried surprise and quickly nodded their agreement, saying nothing.
He asked the question of them smoothly, the baritone of his voice reverberating through Esmeralda's bones as the Archdeacon pointedly removed his hand from her right shoulder.
The low rumble of his voice was comforting as it wrapped around Esmeralda and carried her off to a world where sound is the power that could change everything wrong in this world.
Esmeralda let out a gasp of surprise as she quickly realized the Archdeacon was waiting for an answer from both of the girls.
"W—we're fine," she piped up, glancing towards Judge Frollo's hearth keep for confirmation, whose face had paled in anger towards Frollo's outburst, and the little blonde lass looked as though she wanted to vehemently protest but thought better of it, for which Esmeralda was grateful. Esmeralda did not want her new friend to become imprisoned solely on her behalf tonight.
The chuckle that replied was that soft, rolling thunder that billowed across the dark skies on a stormy night as the Archdeacon nodded, before hardening his gaze and returning his attention back towards the Judge. "Claude will not lay a hand on either one of you, young Mademoiselles. Judge Frollo learned years ago to respect the sanctity of the church," he growled.
Frollo sneered and pursed his thin, wormy lips as he glowered at the old Archdeacon. Madellaine's lips parted, her blue eyes stupefied at the turn of events the night had taken. It was almost impossible. The young blonde looked as though she was itching to say something to Esmeralda but sensing the look of rancor and unbridled rage on her master's face, she must have thought better of it, for she fell silent.
"This woman is under the protection of the church, Your Grace," the Archdeacon barked, the edges of his tone clipped and hardened, bordering on a finality that even Esmeralda knew the Judge would be foolish to try to cross. "Your power ends the moment you cross the threshold and enter into our front doors."
Frollo made no move to turn on the heel of his boot and leave, and for a moment, it seemed as though he wasn't going to, though Esmeralda watched with bated breath as the man let out a sigh and pinched at the front of his temples with his thumb and forefinger as he looked towards Esmeralda, rage in his eyes.
"Then, my dear, it would seem you have chosen a magnificent prison, wouldn't you say? Truly a place of beauty, but it is a prison, nonetheless. I look forward to seeing you again the moment you step outside these stone walls. Your kind, heathen witch, don't do well inside stone walls, do they, child?"
Esmeralda winced as Madellaine shot her a pained look, silently pleading with her new friend to be careful, seemingly reluctant to leave her friend behind to such a horrible fate.
She smiled at Judge Frollo's blonde hearth keep and shot her what she hoped was a reassuring smile, silently trying to convey to the petite little blonde that she was going to be fine.
Esmeralda watched as the Judge motioned with a curt jerk of his arm for his hearth keep, the Captain, and his young dark-haired lieutenant to follow him outside the wide oak double doors. "Remember girl," he growled, no semblance of warmth in his tones. "Step one foot outside," and you're mine," he snarled.
Esmeralda furrowed her dark brows in response, favoring silence here as the only apt response to his quip as the Judge escorted his blonde hearth keep out of the cathedral, a hand on the small of her back that made Esmeralda's skin crawl for her.
The Captain shot her one last glance over his shoulder, a hand on the doorway of the opened front doors of the cathedral.
He smiled at her. A small, slightly crooked half-smile, but it was enough to cause the butterflies in her chest to flutter wildly, and as the door shut gently behind him, Esmeralda was hardly aware of her hand coming up and tugging at the chain until the simple yellow gold ring the captain of the cathedral guard had given her was off from around her neck and in her hand again.
The Judge, however, did not miss the exchange between the two, and he aimed a look towards Esmeralda. Acrid and perilous, close to hostility as the Judge could possibly manage.
It was a warning to Esmeralda as clear as daylight.
Stay away from the captain. Or else…