E: "Scandal!" the crowd shrieked in delight. "Scandal! Scandal! Scandal!"
As more voices joined the chant, Esmerelda flattened herself and snuck under a church pew. Very slowly, she began to inch towards the door flat on her stomach. Her body first ached from the cold stone floor, but soon went completely numb.
"YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY WRONG ABOUT ME." Claude's voice thundered in the huge open space. "MY CONSCIENCE IS CLEAR!"
"Scan-dal! Scan-dal! Scan-dal!" The church throbbed with the roar of chanting voices. Esmerelda's head ached by the time she made it to the exit.
Unfortunately, she did not find the escape she needed outside of the cathedral doors. It took mere seconds for one of her kinfolk to recognize her. "Look, it's the judge's little pet," he sneered.
"I am NOBODY'S little pet!" Esmerelda shouted.
"Tell me, what's under those robes? You must really enjoy seeing saggy old skin." Another taunt.
"Is he sixty-two or sixty-three? I forget."
"Does he have you tie his shoes for him since he's getting too old to bend over?"
Esmerelda looked for an exit, but the crowd hemmed in around her; there was nowhere really to run. "Concubine!" a voice howled, and a rotten tomato splattered on her dress.
"Kept girl! Dancing doll!" A rotten egg and a squishy melon hit her.
"What's that on her neck? Hickeys?" Damn, I should have found a scarf after I lost that horrid armor.
One voice rose above the crowd. "Quiet down, everyone!" E recognized it as one of her kinfolk. "Stop making fun of her."
Was someone finally defending her? E scanned the crowd for the face.
"She's just showing us how good she is at her job," the voice went on. "She seduced the judge!" The crowd howled with laughter.
No, nobody was defending her, just mocking her.
"I am your princess!" Esmerelda shouted. "Is this how you treat me?"
"You're sleeping with our mortal enemy," a gypsy snarled back. "Is this how you treat us? Traitor!"
"I'm helping you!" Esmerelda's anger lent force to her words. "Didn't Clopin explain?"
"He explained that you were going to kill the judge. And you have inexplicably failed to do your one job." Her family's faces screwed up in anger in disgust, as they picked up stones to throw at her.
Hot tears ran down the girl's cheeks as she tore through the crowd, ignoring the various objects thrown at her. She was now an outcast of the outcasts, disowned by her own family, and all because she had refused to kill her lover.
Bruised, bleeding, aching, dirty, and breathless, E finally reached the edges of the city, catcalls still ringing in her ears. She collapsed to the ground, curled up in a fetal position, and wept bitterly.
Her own people had thrown her out. The people that she ate with, lived next door to, talked with, exchanged favors with, that stood up for her and she for them—all of them now acted as though they didn't know her. All because she'd fallen in love with someone who was, in their eyes, the wrong man.
E thought back to those heart-pounding, shivering, exhilarating few minutes laying on that cold stone altar. The little voice had shrieked faintly inside of her head, "You will be cast out for this! You will lose everyone you ever knew and cared for!" Caught up in the heat of the moment, that voice had fallen on willfully deaf ears.
Esmerelda's heart was torn in two. She loved her clan. A month ago, any of them would have done most anything for her, and she for them. So many memories, so many friendships, all shattered in a matter of minutes when word got out that Clopin's younger sister was having a scandalous relationship with Judge Claude Frollo.
A sob choked her. She and Claude hadn't even been doing anything for the archdeacon to see! They were wrestling in the floor, dammit! It wasn't like they were naked.
Clopin had filled in the blanks for them, then. Her older brother, her protector, the closest thing she had to parents, had spilled her secret when she had failed to keep her promise to him.
How could you, Clopin? Tears streaked her grimy face. I'm your only family!
If only she could have fallen in love with one of her people. Her people would think her a hero for refusing to be manipulated into killing him! But no, she'd fallen for the judge, and now she was a traitor.
How could you, Clopin? How could you order me to kill the man I love? How could you drive out your own sister for refusing to do your dirty work?
A small puddle formed beside her face, from her many tears. She begged the angel of death to take pity on her.
Esmerelda lost track of time. She lost track of the world going on around her, of pedestrians and wagons and horses passing by. She was aware at some point of hands gently shaking her. "Esmerelda? Are you ok?"
Lacking the desire even to open her eyes, the girl groaned as she was rolled over onto her back.
"Sancta Maria Mater Dei! Whatever happened to you?"
Claude. A tiny ray of comfort seeped through the cracks of her broken spirit.
"They threw rotten vegetables at me." His presence gave her the strength to speak. "They hate me now." She swallowed painfully against the lump in her throat. "And to think I was worried that something bad would happen to me when I supposedly stabbed Phoebus."
"Ohhhh. Esmerelda, I'm so sorry. I know how it feels." The judge attempted to wipe her dirty forehead with a thumb, and kissed her there. "Being mistreated by your own family. Being thrown out."
E wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the folds of his traveling cloak. (At least she wasn't getting dirt on anything too terribly expensive or difficult to wash.) "Clopin made me promise to kill you." Her voice was thick from crying. "And when he realized that you weren't dead…"
The judge's arms squeezed her gently. "I could not ask for greater loyalty," he whispered. Taking a corner of his cloak, he carefully wiped her face.
F: "Scandal! Scandal! Scandal!" The cathedral echoed with the deafening chant.
Years of practice enabled the judge to maintain a cool, emotionless demeanor. "MY CONSCIENCE IS CLEAR!" He was experienced with the legal system; he knew that the less he said right now, the better it would be for him. However, he had also noticed that Esmerelda was trying to escape. Hopefully, if he drew the crowd's attention to himself, she would have an easier time getting away safely.
"I have an idea!" a voice shouted from the crowd. "There's a bunch of us and one of him. Let's hang him from a lamp post!"
"You would prefer a quick finish to a court battle?" the judge replied calmly. "I have heard more than one of you mutter under your breath how much you would enjoy seeing me in the defendant's chair."
"Yeah! Don't hurt him!" a voice agreed. "I can't wait to see this! YOU, CLAUDE FROLLO, STAND ACCUSED OF HARBORING ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS! HOW DO YOU PLEAD?"
Laughter roared, echoing from the stone walls. Swallowing his anger, Claude calmly headed for the doors. The crowd parted around him like a violent Red Sea, churning and thrashing. Despite this recent black mark by his name, Claude Frollo was still the judge. Nobody dared throw a tomato at him—at least, not until he had been legally removed from office.
The judge focused very intently on the sound of his horse's hooves as he rode back to the Palace of Justice, deliberately tuning out the gossiping crowds. As he had known from the beginning, his faux pau had eventually been uncovered, to the great delight of the common folk.
All was not over. Nothing had been proven against him, and he still retained his position of power. However, the city of Paris would be snickering about this behind his back for a long, long time.
We weren't even doing anything! Claude swallowed his anger so hard that he almost choked on it. We were practicing martial arts in the floor!
His face drew up in pain. No, it was foreplay, you idiot. The archdeacon recognized it too.
Not to mention that he had been seen the first time he grabbed Esmerelda in Notre Dame. This happened all the time in court; people suddenly realizing to their dismay that there was a witness that they never knew about. But the judge had never expected this to happen to him.
He made it safely to the Palace of Justice, but he expected Esmerelda had not been so lucky. Trading his usual finery for a simple travelling cloak, he headed back out through the city. "Work with me, Snowball. I need you to find Esmerelda for me."
They had finally found her, tired and dirty and curled up on the ground. Claude immediately got off the horse and knelt beside her. The girl's only response was to groan.
"Sancta Maria Mater Dei!" The judge's long-dormant heart suddenly wrung itself in pain as Esmerelda sobbed out the story of her recent disfellowship.
Almost naturally, he felt the need to comfort her. Before he realized it, he was talking about his family and his past. "Ohhhh. Esmerelda, I'm so sorry. I know how it feels." The judge attempted to wipe her dirty forehead with a thumb, and kissed her there. "Being mistreated by your own family. Being thrown out."
"Clopin made me promise to kill you," Esmerelda choked.
This came as no surprise to Claude Frollo, but it quieted a fear that had pestered him since Esmerelda first came to the palace to dance. "I could not ask for greater loyalty." He wiped her face as clean as he could and kissed her. The taste of dirt and salty tears mingled with the sweetness of her lips.
Life returned to her tired body as she returned the kiss, arms tightening around him.
Something inside of him melted. He'd happily bear the evening's humiliation all over again for her; the girl's warmth was salve on his wounded soul.
Their lips eventually separated, and Esmerelda sank back into his arms. "I love you," she said simply, beautiful green eyes fixed on his heavy gray ones.
"I love you." Claude could not remember how many decades had passed since he had spoken those words. Most likely, the last time had been in reference to his dying parents.
The judge lifted the poor girl onto Snowball with him and took the long, indirect route back to the Palace of Justice, keeping to empty roads as much as possible. It was late, and most people had returned to their homes. Nobody was really looking for him; they had no reason to assume he had left the Palace of Justice.
Frollo and the girl snuck inside the Palace by one of the many inconspicuous entryways. Frollo knew better than to trust his idiotic minions, preferring to station them at assigned places and deliberately neglect to instruct them on all of the passageways.
No sooner than they were safely inside, the judge picked up his battered little songbird and carried her silently through the halls. Claude was an expert at noiseless walking, the trait perfected during many years of desiring to keep his men on edge; the dancer's weight was not a hindrance to him.
Poor dear. She was splattered with filth and dried blood, and an emotional wreck. He owed it to her to make her feel better…
E: Even though the judge had most likely acted on ulterior motives, Esmerelda certainly wasn't going to complain. She'd kept herself clean by pan bathing all of her life; soaking in hot water with Claude wiping off the day's dirt and grime felt absolutely divine.
She may have been turned out by her family, but that didn't mean she had been left with nowhere to go. They'd already repudiated her; the thought of further upsetting them was no longer a concern.
"Claude," she said, "I want to marry you."
"Wh-what?" A surprised almost-laugh caught in his throat.
"No, I'm serious." Esmerelda put her hands on the side of the bathtub and leaned forward to look him directly in the eyes.
He didn't reciprocate. E put a finger under his chin and gently tilted his head up. "Claude. We are having a conversation. Please look at my face and not my breasts."
He lifted his gaze, grinning innocently at her. Unable to stop herself, E giggled. "For a sixty-two year old man, you certainly haven't learned how to behave yourself."
"Who, me?" He leaned in and ran his tongue from her collarbone to her jawline.
"Yes, you." With a teasing grin, she grabbed his hair and pushed him away.
"You are getting my hair wet." The words were aloof, but the tone of voice sparkled with playfulness.
"You're practically laughing," Esmerelda observed with mock astonishment. She rested her chin on the edge of the bathtub. "You know, I like your nicer side. Better not let anyone but me see this side of you, or you'll have folks begging for favors left and right."
"Very true." His usual stiffness returned. "As you yourself demonstrated when you voiced your foolish hope that we could ever get married. I have very good reasons for not being nice."
"Claude?" Concern hung from her words. "What's bothering you?"
"Look." The judge took her face in his hands so he could eye her directly. "You know how I feel about you, but you're a fool if you think that a respected government official can marry a pole dancer who doesn't even have citizenship. As an authority figure, I have a public face to maintain. If I were younger and you were the daughter of some aristocrat, it would not be an issue, but as it stands…" He trailed off.
Frollo might as well have slapped her across the face, from the burning rejection that welled up within her. "It's not fair!" Esmerelda howled to no one in particular. "We're different races, different backgrounds, different social classes, different ages, but—but—" Esmerelda's anger threatened to choke her. "Look, you can forget about horrid in-laws, my family already kicked me out. You have money, let's up and run off together!" Her face brightened at the idea.
"Esmerelda Trollifeau, I am a public official." His voice was emotionless. "I cannot impulsively up and run off with some girl who is 40 years my junior."
The judge was right. Tears stung the gypsy's eyes. Though it pained her so, his responsibility and devotion to his civil duty only made her admire him more.
"I understand." As Esmerelda hung her head, her heart followed suit.
"But I'll see what I can do." He tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "So be patient, you young whippersnapper." He waved a scolding finger at her.
She grinned back. "I'll slow down a little for you, old man."
"Youth is wasted on the young!" he snorted, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
F: The judge kept his face stiff, but Esmerelda's offer stung him like an offended hornet. Throughout his entire career, Frollo had prided himself on his infallible record of following rules to the letter. The minister had deliberately not thought about the awkward reality that he now had a mistress. To top it off, he'd just admitted to her and himself both that they couldn't realistically get married.
You're just stringing her along for nothing, you disgusting master of exploitation. You are nothing but a user! Claude had spent most of his life looking down his nose on men who unabashedly manipulated women to serve their own animalistic ends, only to ultimately leave these women with nothing to show for their relationship but a shattered heart and an ocean of self-loathing.
Claude Frollo could enthusiastically lecture the common folk about promiscuity for hours, yet he found it so irritatingly difficult to obey the rules for himself. His muscles instinctively tightened in frustration. Rules were for those without extenuating circumstances, dammit! He and Esmerelda absolutely would have been properly married a long time ago, were it not for the fact that the two of them were from different races, different social classes, different cultures, different generations, different levels of economic standing…
Forget it. It would never work. To top it all off, they were technically supposed to be killing each other. Esmerelda had admitted to the promise that Clopin had forced from her, and had the judge enforced the laws as impartially as he claimed that he did…
He sighed in annoyance when Esmerelda suggested running away together. Such foolish, impatient young people! Couldn't she see?
Nevertheless, she had challenged his integrity; no longer could he hide from himself. Esmerelda was fully within her rights to speak up; she deserved better than being some concubine! Her dejected expression tore open his weary heart.
I don't know what to do anymore, God in Heaven, he prayed helplessly. If you don't want us living like this, please show me how to change things!
"I'll see what I can do," he promised her.
Esmerelda happily laid in the water until it started getting cold. The judge wrapped her up in a towel, wrapped her up well, to the point she would have to take tiny baby steps in order to walk anywhere. Not a problem, he could carry her.
She laid so relaxed and limp in his arms, damp hair brushing his chin and neck when she laid her head against him. Leftover warmth from the bathwater still radiated from her. Her soft beauty sunk tendrils into his brain, preventing any rational thought.
Her newly-washed skin was even softer than his bedsheets. The judge pulled her to his chest, burying his face in her hair. She snuggled up close, stroking his cheek with a delicate, bronze hand.
