Frollo was half-insane trying to make sense of his own feelings. They were at odds: sometimes completely opposing each other, nonsensical and alien, yet somehow exactly what he would expect for his situation. The dread, the excitement, the resignation, the agency, the anger, the attraction… He could barely conduct mass, he was so distracted!

They had locked Esmerelda away in the dungeon after she admitted her love for Phoebus, and he had no idea how to proceed from the current situation. Her confession made his heart clench – why, why, was it that smirking bastard that won her affection? – but she had also admitted she helped kill him, which was a lie, so maybe it had all been a lie? How was he supposed to know? That spark of hope nagged at him.

Memories of the torture she endured haunted him still, but the peacekeepers assured him it was necessary, because she absolutely refused to talk otherwise. He had wrung his hands nervously as he waited for the results of her interrogation… Her screams had echoed through the halls, mixed with the cries of countless others. In the end he fled to escape the dreadful sound.

He didn't want to hurt her, but every time she looked at him with that hatred written plain across her face it made him angry, and he'd found even he couldn't predict his actions when he was in that frame of mind. Lately it seemed as though a dormant part of himself had been awoken. A completely different man to the docile intellectual he had been for so many years had overtaken his mind, and he couldn't cope with it, or control it. Frankly, he was scaring himself.

Tonight he was going to confront Esmerelda about what he truly wanted – it was time to uncover his raging, shameful lust. He got riled up just thinking of her, and was prone to unbidden fantasies at the most inopportune times… It was pitiful, really. The worst instance was during a sermon, when a elderly member of the congregation startled at something, and lurched forward with a gasp to clutch at the pew in front of them. Suddenly he had very graphic images of what Esmerelda might be like clutching him and gasping in a similar fashion clouding his mind, and had to end the sermon early so he could relieve himself.

Running the confessional wasn't much better - people were confessing their sins to absolve themselves, unaware that the very vassal of God sitting on the other side of the privacy screen was the worst sinner of them all. He was a total fraud. He knew no peace.

Night fell, and after finishing up with his daily duties he made his way down to the dungeon where she lay curled in her cell. The musty air and oppressive darkness started seeping into his very soul as soon as he descended the steps. Guilt hit him when he saw how pale she was compared to usual: all the life of the once musical, vibrant girl had been absorbed by her new surroundings. Building resolve, Frollo stepped in and addressed her.

"I'm the priest here to prepare you for your hanging."

A few moments passed in silence as she visibly gathered the energy to reply. His concern mounted at this, it was very out of character for her to be so... feeble. Her voice was raspy when she was finally able to reply, "I'm cold, and hungry. I haven't harmed anyone. Please, just let me go."

"You've been sentenced to death. By morning, you'll be up on the gallows…"

Originally he had hoped to quell his urges by ridding himself of her and therefore her carnal spell, but it occurred to him in that moment that she was as close to death as she'd ever been, yet the feelings remained, as strong (if not stronger) than ever. Perhaps his desire would outlive her if she died? Regret that he had set everything up like this suddenly engulfed him. Was this problem robbing him of his reason as well as his self control? He wanted to plunge his head into a bowl of ice water, and wondered if he could have one sent to his rooms for later.

"Come morning, I'll be fine. Phoebus will come for me." Again, the conflicting emotions - the spitting tone in Esmerelda's voice simultaneously relieved him because he could see some of the fire coming back into her cheeks, but also snapped something in him. The anger always flowed so soon, so hot, in matters concerning her. He cursed his own weakness, but couldn't fight it.

"We'll see who comes for who when you're strung up." he said, bitterly.

"What did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much?!" a bewildered Esmerelda shrieked desperately, trying to understand why this man held so much spite for her.

That's when the floodgates opened.

"One morning, you were dancing in the square with the sun hitting you just so. It was like nothing I'd ever seen. I remember it so vividly – a shiver went up my spine, my whole body was overwhelmed. Every day since then I've seen the devil in the mirror instead of my own face. All I want is some happiness, some bliss… I've come with an offer for you. My bed or the gallows. I can get you out of here, all you have to to is say yes. Accept and I guarantee you'll be returned to your gypsy friends after. I know you're waiting for Phoebus, but he's engaged to someone very wealthy and he couldn't appreciate you, he's too used to having whomever he wants. Please, please…" he held his head in his hands, fighting back tears of frustration, and cursed his own weakness.

Esmerelda stood, shocked and upset.

"Phoebus… is… engaged? To who? He never told me this! You must be lying!"

Frollo's gaze snapped to her immediately at this accusation. Phoebus's attachment was high profile and therefore not exactly a secret. "Lying? I'm not lying. His fiancée Fleurs-de-Lys visited me a week ago to discuss the wedding preparations. They're taking things slow, for her I'd bet, but it will happen. Not to mention, I have been working with your dear captain for years, and have seen first hand all manner of common... folk, he has had the pleasure of associating with. Come now, Esmerelda... How long did you know him? Be rational. He hadn't time to tell you everything, and even if he had, it definitely wasn't in his best interest to do so." He could laugh that he had just told someone else to be rational, given his state of mind. But honestly, she couldn't have expected to know everything about the man without even having spoken to him properly? Maybe he wasn't the only one with things to learn.

In front of him, Esmerelda was doing her best not to cry, and Frollo watched her inner turmoil with a grim face. He could only imagine the hurt and confusion she must be experiencing now. Well, on second thought, maybe he did understand the hurt and confusion she was experiencing now, as he had his own share of it to deal with day by day.

She seemed to deflate, and he pressed, "Please. Say you will. We can both profit from this. You were willing for him, without even ever having gotten to know him – what makes me so different? Looks? I don't understand. Can't you see how much I want this, how much I need this? What do you have to lose? You'll die tomorrow! And I… don't want that to happen. Please."

He was going to punch the wall any moment – knuckles be damned – she hadn't answered, hadn't even rejected him outright. Poor girl was probably in shock. It just wasn't fair. Some people had all the luck in this world, and Phoebus was definitely one of them. Man had probably slept with any girl that caught his eye, and he had little to offer, as far as Frollo was concerned. He had always turned a blind eye, doing his best to guide as God would and let each soul find its peace with the guidance of His hand, but now…

A battle was playing out on Esmerelda's face as she processed the bad news, and he gazed at it, entranced. The hurt, and confusion, morphed into a disturbed thoughtfulness, and finally, resolution. He steeled himself for the worst.

"Okay. I accept."

Frollo was stewing so obsessively over the coming rejection, he almost didn't understand her acceptance. His head snapped in her direction when she spoke.

"But you – wait, what? You accept?"

Esmerelda simply nodded and stood up, looking at Frollo directly. If she looked weak before it was nothing compared to now – she looked positively dead, eyes lacking the fire she had while talking to him even if she was in the poorest of health.

"Lead the way."

"Just to be clear, once you lie with me, you are free to go, but not until then."

Esmerelda nodded, then looked to him expectantly.

To say he was shocked would be an understatement. What an amazing and unpredictable turn of events. He felt glued to the spot, but forced his feet to move over the rough stone floor. Esmerelda followed closely, walking apathetically behind him.

More conflicting emotions… He had goose bumps from her proximity, but also felt clammy. Nothing about any of this felt right, but this part in particular… Something about it was uncomfortable, in a wrong way, even though he had already defied his own values more than once in this insane game. In an effort to buy himself some time he took a slightly longer route to his chamber than he could've, but they reached his rooms at last, and Frollo set to lighting candles so they could see. Secretly he was still biding time, not quite believing what was about to happen.

How to proceed? He had no experience in these matters, and despite her lowly upbringing, he suspected she didn't either. On top of that, he wasn't entirely sure he was quite as 'in the mood' as he was earlier. Having her in front of him drove him crazy but also heightened his own internal barriers towards acting upon it - the fact that in her present state of mind she rather resembled a cadaver wasn't helping at all.

His chambers were simply but luxuriously decorated, and the familiar surroundings eased him to some degree. Furnished with a bed, side tables, chest, drawers, as well as a desk and chair and numerous bookshelves, it was his own mini paradise. The blankets were heavy, the sheets were clean. All of the furniture was elegant, but useful. Books were strewn everywhere and candle wax was dripping down all of the fixtures from long nighttime readings. He had often stayed up into the early hours, engrossed in some book or other.

Does Esmerelda read? Probably not, she was raised in the street. Does it matter? Maybe it does. It feels like it does, for some reason. Of course you think of this now, you great oaf.

"So? Shall we begin?" Esmerelda asked clinically. This was not what he had imagined at all; there was no passion, not even from hatred, in her words.

"Oh. Yes, I suppose."

Beginning was more awkward and difficult than he would've thought. He drew near to her, and put his hands on her hips, slowly preparing to kiss her. He decided to start by hugging her and smelling her neck. The thought of kissing overwhelmed him, like stepping over some line, and he couldn't bring himself to do that just yet, despite yearning for it for so long. Esmerelda shut her eyes and shuddered slightly at the alien touch, but allowed herself to be handled.

Oh, good Lord. How can I be doing this? The poor thing is practically a child compared to me. I never thought I'd need this, ever. Why me, why now? God above, have You forsaken me? Is this a test? I have devoted my life to You, what more do You want from me? This torture is too much.

A wave of panic suddenly overtook him as he realized the gravity of the situation. He was going to break his vow of celibacy and damn himself to an eternity of hell for this – and he couldn't go through with it, not yet. Maybe not ever. Was the fact this was happening to him more upsetting, or the fact he couldn't even act on it given the chance? Yet, what was he supposed to do with this situation? It seemed a hellish punishment to be bestowed, and he had been devout his whole life - what could he possibly have done to deserve this? No sense asking himself that question now, he had asked himself plenty times before with no ready answer. He bit back a profanity and grasped at straws to buy time.

"I-I—You—Stay here. Don't forget you're only free to go once the deal has been fulfilled."

And with that, Frollo left the room and shut the door, leaving a confused and wary Esmerelda alone with her thoughts.