Author's Note: Whoa... I updated this story... weird... Now, it's not as long as I wish it were, but hey, it's here, right? I think that I'm going to finish this story up before going on to continue writing Sindey City or anything else. So, in this chapter, Frollo has his own little section to himself. Basically thinking, so sorry all of you who love dialogue so much. I hope there's enough in Lilo's section to suffice! Read and Review!

Lilo was finding it harder and harder to cope with her fate.

The hay was beginning to lose its warmth, the small comfort that she drew from its encompassing straws disappearing slowly with the passing seconds.

Lilo had drawn back into the pile after the judge's visit. She had been lost with her thoughts and questions for a long while; the minutes spent wondering were long and uncountable. The same curiosity lingered in her mind. Why had Frollo been so afraid of the pendant when he had seen it? She had seen the look on his face when he lifted the medallion up, the glaring fright that took those wide and shadowed eyes. It was as if he had known what it was, where it had come from. He hated it. Lilo saw it all in his handling of it. But still the question remained. Why?

Lilo had long lingered on this single question, contemplating to the best of her abilities what it was that could've caused such a fear. But she couldn't figure it. It didn't make any sense to her.

But, she had soon discarded the interest for a different realization. She was getting sick. Lilo felt her feet becoming colder, her forehead becoming hotter. Every moment passed with a further weakening sensation. She had tried to sleep, but something in her mind had suddenly awoken a strange sort of gripping fear that told her to stay alert.

Lilo had remembered. Frollo had said that he would come back. His voice had not indicated whether that would happen soon or not, but she could hear the unspoken threat to her life in his icy tone. She could only imagine the horrible tortures that he had in store for her, and the last thing that she could want was for him to come back as she slept. It was better to be alert and half-crazy than to be groggy and resigned.

But soon, the fright became almost unbearable, and Lilo found herself falling into another tearful spell. She felt overwhelmed, haunted by her mistakes, worsened by her sickness. Soon enough, she was yet again chastising herself for her blunders.

"I'm going to be in so much trouble," she sniffed unhappily, feeling her forehead worriedly. "He's going to hurt me bad, I know he is!" She wiped her nose miserably. "Stupid Lilo… you had to mess up everything again… why couldn't you just keep your mouth shut?"

From within her head, a sad and guilty voice spoke up to answer. "I just wanted to help Quasimodo," it explained glumly. "Frollo's mean to him. I don't want him to make Quasimodo feel bad again."

Lilo felt another surge of anger and regret at the "words".

"You dummy!" she cried aloud, screaming at the wall as if she could see the voice standing there. "Did you think the butthead would actually listen? It's dumb," she muttered, shivering unhappily. "Now Quasimodo's probably going to be in more trouble. And, I'm going to get hurt…and…and…"

Lilo couldn't make herself continue, and with an interjecting cry, she put her head against her arms and sobbed. She was angry at herself, very angry, but she knew now that she was getting more and more ill. Her forehead was burning against her skin; she could feel a cool sweat begin to trickle all abut her body. It seemed that her sickness was spreading a lot faster now...

"NO!" Lilo screamed, holding her head in her hands. "Stop crying, stop it! You're just making yourself sicker! And they won't help you if you get sick; they don't care…" She nearly choked on these words, realizing once again how much he missed Nani, how much she missed everybody. They would've cared if she was sick; Pleakley and Stitch would've sat with her the whole night, Nani would have made her chicken soup, Jumba would've at least sympathized... but now… who did she have to empathize with her in this dark, forbidding place? "Stop it," she begged, trying to end her tears. "Stop caring, stop it…. Please…"

An unexpected noise punctuated the quieting air, the creak of rusted hinges screeching loudly above Lilo's sobs. She stopped crying almost immediately, her eyes becoming wide with an ever growing fear. Her head lifted, turning slowly toward the door that sat just beyond the bars of her cell, hoping against all hope that maybe the stress was making her crazy, that the unwanted sound did not exist.

Her face paled suddenly at the sight.

The door was wide open, pushed against the mildewing stone wall, and, standing imposingly centered in the entrance was him. His long robes flowed about him, brushing against the cold floor, his hands plunging deep into the voluminous sleeves that draped from his thin arms. His head was bowed, his hat concealing his face in further shadow.

Lilo sprang up from her place on the straw pile, pressing herself hard against the back wall. She wanted to be as far away as she possibly could from him; she wouldn't let him take her away.

Frollo seemed to be amused by this action, though Lilo could not see his face, and a slow, malevolent chuckle flowed from his hidden lips. Lilo shivered uneasily at the noise. It had that same calm hostility that he retained in his speech, like an effortless stream of venom.

Lilo shut her eyes. She was not going to cry again.

"Now is the time of judgment, gypsy," he said with a virulent murmur.

Lilo's eyes fluttered open, and she stared uncertainly at the robed figure before her. After a short moment, she took a tentative step in his direction, and then continued down to the bars. She leaned her head against the metal, squinting suspiciously at the unmoving man at the door.

"Mr. Clopin?" she inquired cautiously. "Is that you?"

The figure snapped his fingers loudly, shaking his head. "Oh dear," he said, his voice regaining its strange flutiness, "it appears that I've been discovered."

Lilo's anxiety was dispelled almost immediately, a wide and sudden smile spreading across her round face. She was right!

Clopin tossed off the large, unbecoming hat onto the wooden stool that sat outside of the cell, and, after closing the metal door, he made his way over to where Lilo stood.

"You scared me!" Lilo told him with a chastising frown. She looked him over, adopting a disgusted look. "What are you wearing?"

"I know," Clopin replied dryly, tugging at the white collar as if it were choking him. "Not very stylish, now is it?"

Lilo shook her head vigorously at the question.

"Well, I had no choice," the king told her, letting go of the collar in an unhappily resigned way, "unless I wanted to dress up like a guard… and, if you ask me," he said with sickened grimace, "that's a lot worse."

Clopin looked down at Lilo in a fatherly way, clicking his tongue at her haggard appearance.

"Forgive me if this question sounds stupid," the man began, "but, how are you feeling?"

Lilo's newfound smile fell instantly, and she lifted a hand almost reflexively to her forehead.

"I think I'm sick," she told him anxiously. Her skin was burning.

"Well," Clopin said, flashing her a consoling smile, "that's understandable. This place is horrible, damp, and cold…" He looked about him thoughtfully. "And it needs a touch of color too… which is exactly why I need to get you out of here!"

Lilo's smile reappeared. "You're rescuing me?"

"Of course I am!" Clopin exclaimed grinningly. "What else would I be doing here in Frollo's clothing with keys that I picked off some guard?" He jingled a ring of keys that he pulled out of his sleeves accordingly.

Selecting one key off of the loop, he started trying to open the door.

Lilo watched him from below as he tried key after key on the lock of her cell, happy and grateful that the Gypsy had come to get her. But she couldn't help but wonder how he had known…

"How did you know I was here, anyway?" she asked him curiously.

"You've got your little talking dog to thank for that, my dear. He," Clopin paused and pulled open the cell door with a triumphant grin, gesturing ostentatiously for Lilo to exit. "—is the one who told me about it," he finished. "Or is confronted a better word…? Ah well. Come on now, my dear, now is the time to go!"

With a rush, Clopin hurried to grab the hat he had discarded, and made his way to the metal door that connected the room with the hall. He opened it slowly, doing his best to avoid any noticeable loudness, and then held it, waiting for Lilo to follow.

Lilo hastened out of her cell, making her way anxiously to the costumed man's spot. But, just before reaching him, she paused, glancing at a slight glistening on the stone floor. It was Quasimodo's talisman… Lilo stared at it for a long moment, the questions on Frollo's behavior suddenly resurfacing in her mind. It took an excited whistle from the Gypsy king for Lilo to remember her escape.

With a quick hand, she retrieved the medallion and held it fast. She put it to her heart, promising finally that she would see Quasimodo again, no matter what occurred, and, with a final glance at the golden, engraved sun, she hurried out of the door, followed by her rescuer.

Frollo would have sworn on his life that the medallion had been lost, that it had been abandoned in the deep and surreptitious shadows that Notre Dame hosted. He remembered snatching it away, throwing it to the unforgiving ages, hiding it from him even before he had the chance to stop crying.

But, there it had been, lying on the floor, and then gripped unsurely by his fingertips. He had seen it with his own eyes, felt it with his own nerves, known it from his own distant memories. It was away from Notre Dame, away from the housed gloom, away from the concealment that he had hoped that it would have experienced forever.

Frollo stared gravely out at the gray city through the narrow windows that broke the stretch of hard stone that made his room. Out across the way, jutting up from the mass of pointed roofs and brick chimneys, he could see the majestic cathedral, its tall, blessed façade staring out into the same metropolis. The judge gazed at it gloomily, his spidery fingers tented before his long, wizened face, his wary eyes shining out above them, suspicious as always.

The girl must have been the one, the gypsy that he had seen lurking on Notre Dame's walkways just a day or so before. He could not know for sure; he had only seen a dark face and a wisp of black hair withdrawing from the parapet. He had ordered his guards to take a post near the cathedral after they had finished searching the bell tower. He had known she would come back. It was a strange feeling of premonition, and his hunch had been right. Though, at first he had thought that they had captured just another Gypsy criminal, trying to claim sanctuary in Notre Dame before they were caught. She was just a child, after all, and far from seeming amazing when he had first seen her from his perch on the Palace's outer catwalk. But when he had met her…

She was loud, whiny; he had frightened her at first, he knew. In her face he saw a fear, but it was unfamiliar in its manner. It was as if she hadn't known him, not the way that most Parisian Gypsies did. But then, that fear had been dismissed, it seemed, and she had become annoyingly audacious. She ignored his questions, demanded he addressed her by that outlandish name of hers. And then…

Frollo grimaced, moving away from the window to stand before the fire that blazed in the hearth. He stared pensively into the mesmerizing flames.

The Gypsy had seemed angry. She had nearly fooled him into believing that she actually cared about his monstrous son, but he had been able to see past it. He knew what she was trying to do… she was trying to scare him, trying to make him reconsider his treatment of the boy… but why? Was there a meaning behind the lies?

No, of course not… She's a Gypsy. There never needs to be a point for their malevolence. Demons are demons, and it's all for the sake of being evil. She knew that he was winning against her attempt… that's why she had thrown the talisman. She knew how he would react.

Frollo let out a tired sigh. The talisman kept running in his mind. Where did she get it? Why did she have it? And, did he know about it?

He had never told him what he was, who he was… never anything past "monster". Frollo had never told him that his mother was a Gypsy… in fact, he said nothing about her other than how she had abandoned him… if he were to know who he was, that vagabond blood was rushing through his veins… would he turn on his master?

The wooden door at the far end of the room opened slowly, the head of the captain of the guard peeking in through the small crack.

"Minister Frollo?" the helmeted soldier began, his voice worried.

The judge felt a surge of anger for his thoughts having been interrupted, but he calmly tucked his fury and contemplation aside for the moment. He turned, his face straight and expectant.

"Yes, Captain?" Frollo looked upon the man imperiously, noting the uncomfortable sweat that trickled down the side of his face.

"When were you last in the cell blocks, sir?" the man asked anxiously.

Frollo raised a brow at the soldier's concern. "Two or three hours ago at the least," he replied sincerely. The man groaned at the answer, as if hating the truth. Frollo's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why do you ask, Captain?"

"Sir, there was an unauthorized visit to the Gypsy girl's cell only a moment ago," he told the judge.

"Well, wasn't it your duty to stop the perpetrator?" Frollo glared at the man piercingly. The man shirked his gaze.

"The guards say that it was you," the captain squeaked. "They had seen you walking down the halls toward the cell. Another guard had been knocked unconscious and found out that his keys were missing…"

Frollo felt a sudden alarm, and pushing past the guard, he hurried out into the hall.

"Come, you idiot," he ordered malignantly, gesturing for the captain to follow. "Gather all your men; order them to block the exit!" His eyes narrowed angrily. "No Gypsy escapes me."

A/N: Well, that's it for now! I enjoyed writing Frollo's part, believe it or not... I suppose I enjoy getting into people's heads... Ah well... It's late/early so, I'll have to be finishing up here.

Funfact est delayed. Sorry.