Author's Note: By necessity, I will allude to some of the darker parts of this subject matter in this chapter, as it cannot be completely glossed over. I have striven to strike a balance between not making it too terribly graphic and still projecting the appropriate aura of menace. I hope that those whose stomachs are strong enough enjoy it, and those who do not spare themselves the trouble and skip to the next chapter.

Chapter 32:

The very fact that Frollo stood atop steps that were meant to mark the boundaries of her people's sanctuary while swarms of guardsmen flooded the Court made her think she was imagining it. She was light-headed, unable to comprehend even as spears were aimed directly at her, encircling her on all sides.

Even Djali had been seized, but the goat was far beyond her reach, and the desperation to be with her little friend drew a scream from her which shattered her decorum.

Phoebus pressed close at her side, and Quasimodo shriveled to cower behind them both, but Frollo just kept coming closer, like a spider as it approached a squirming victim ensnared in its carefully woven trap.

What had she missed? Was there a way to go back and solve the problem? What was there to be done? There was always an escape route! This was not over!

"After twenty years of searching, the Court of Miracles is mine at last! Dear Quasimodo: I always knew you would be of use to me!"

"No…" Quasimodo crumbled under those simple words, so even as Esmeralda's arms were restrained behind her back, she stepped forward.

"What are you talking about?" she snarled at the judge.

When Frollo's attention did shift to her, his eyes were aflame above his long nose and his smirk. "He led me right to you, my dear," he said, and cupped her chin in those bony fingers of his.

That contact shoved shadowy images into Esmeralda's mind, as she realized that she was in peril of finding Frollo in her prison cell about to take whatever he wanted from her… She could not show her horror, she must do what Phoebus was doing, and be furious instead.

"You're a liar!" Esmeralda spat, but Frollo was past caring, moving to gloat over the man who stood beside her.

"And look what else I've caught in my net! Captain Phoebus back from the dead!"

Phoebus struggled against the guards who'd restrained him, snarling like a bull that wanted to charge, huffing with rage at the withered older man before him.

"Another miracle, no doubt!" Frollo sneered smugly. An instant later, a frown overshadowed his features, and he said, "I should remedy that…" He took a few more steps and spread his arms out before the assembled prisoners. "There'll be a little bonfire in the square, tomorrow, and you're all invited to attend!" he informed them with glee. "Lock them up!"

All of them, all those she loved… reduced to ashes not simply in spite of the work she had done for their sake, but in part because of her…

She had a sneaking suspicion that she was destined to go first… perhaps that was the only mercy that she would receive at the end, when it came.

At first she thought Quasimodo would come with them, but instead, Frollo's instructions for him echoed through the chamber. He was to be chained in the bell tower… forced to watch, no doubt, as there was no better view of the town square than just before the cathedral.

It was pointless to protest, so she gritted her teeth. Her eyes darted to Phoebus, her husband, and somehow the sight of him and the knowledge that they were married calmed her.

Even if they were to die that night, they were joined in the eyes of God.

If they had to go to Heaven soon, wouldn't they be together? That sounded right…

It was easier to focus on these questions than on what would actually happen to them, but gradually, the anxieties over what would happen crept in and overpowered everything else.

The further they were dragged, the more agitated Phoebus became, as well, casting wildly furious glances around at the other soldiers, and doing his best to break free from them. The result was an unfortunate degree of roughness to suppress him, which left his nose bleeding, and forced him to limp.

Once they arrived at the Palace of Justice, they were taken to the dungeon, the infamous dungeon where people Esmeralda had known had disappeared for years.

"Gypsies don't do well inside stone walls," Frollo sneered from behind her, an echo of his words from before. "Luckily for you, none of you will remain here long!"

Esmeralda's jaw remained grimly set as she watched Clopin— her king who had always fiercely defended her people, who was her brother and her father and her mainstay of hope, was shoved into a cell.

She could not bear to look at Phoebus, though she knew he was close by. Instead, she hung her head, but she could still feel her neighbors and erstwhile friends leveling accusing glares on her. She had been anticipating the opportunity to plan something when she and Phoebus were shoved into the same cell, but instead, he was shoved into a cell and she was dragged further along the hall.

"Esmeralda!" Phoebus cried, straining to break down the door between them as she was dragged further and further. He continued to call her name until she heard Clopin chastise him, and that was the last she heard of him.

Instead she was taken to a cell quite apart from the others, and of quite a different character. There was a set of stocks at its center, one for the feet and another for the arms and head. There was a rack, as well, against one wall, and blood… everywhere.

On a strictly human level, Esmeralda recoiled from a place where so much suffering had taken place, as if she could feel every time someone had suffered at the hands of the torturers, and their cries echoed through her.

As she hung back and whimpered, she noticed that there was a long bench pressed against a stone pillar with manacles hanging from it. It was to this she was taken. "What are you doing?" she asked, seeing Frollo enter after her with a twisted smile.

"Why, I thought you knew what we did with witches," Frollo sneered. "You must confess to your crimes, before you can be sent back to your Master."

Esmeralda stared down in horror as her foot was clamped inside what looked like a metal boot. The dagger she had strapped on her leg was torn away, leaving her defenseless. "What is this?" she demanded, as she was distracted from the sinister look in Frollo's face and the fear of what was to come the next morning by the more immediate terror of what was about to happen with her foot.

"Your thralls cannot help you, witch," Frollo said. "This device will help us extract the truth from you. You will confess to using witchcraft to blind the men of Paris with lust, especially Captain Phoebus, who has been seen in your company more than any other. If you do not confess, we shall have to bring him in to see if he will share with us your methods."

His words were echoing off the ceiling and probably into all the other cells, as the door had a small barred window on it. With a sinking sensation, Esmeralda realized that whatever was about to happen, everyone was going to hear it. That was already terrifying enough, but she glanced down at the boot. It didn't seem… magical. And Frollo probably wouldn't condone its presence if it were. How would it do anything like that?

"I'm not a witch," Esmeralda said at last, giving Frollo a defiant glare. "Say what you want, but I don't practice any magic."

"I suggest you learn to admit the truth," Frollo told her. "Otherwise," he said, smiling down at her, "God will punish you worse than I shall."

A torturer with a mask over his face took hold of a crank attached to her boot, and it tightened around her leg. She sucked in a breath, but she had to keep calm. "I am innocent," she said, meeting Frollo's cold eyes.

"Ah, it seems you must be taught." Frollo gestured for the torturer to tighten the screw.

She sucked in her breath again, but that strategy did not work so well the second time. How could this be the will of God? The same God who supposedly loved all mankind as His children? Frollo had the boot tightened again while she was trying to adjust, and caught off-guard, she let out a pained groan between her gritted teeth.

Her people needed to hear her keep strong, needed to hear that she could stand up to Frollo, even if she was going to die tomorrow. "Admit that you used your magic to enthrall Captain Phoebus," Frollo said. "Admit that you are incapable of real love, and that you are possessed by a demon who gives you the power to overpower years of military training to make him rebel."

Why was he asking her to say such things? Her mind was raked over with pain, but she still had the consciousness to realize that he was jealous. "Why? Wish I'd done it to you?" she asked.

The boot tightened twice, and she heard something in her foot snap. At that, she couldn't keep her control, and screamed, curling forward though her arms were manacled behind her. Frollo tipped her chin up, so that through her tears she could see his face. "Confess," he said.

"I confess," she said, and heard her trembling, pathetic voice echo back at her. Why was she so weak? "I confess, I repent, anything you want, just take this thing off!"

Frollo smiled, and his hand trailed from her chin, lower over her body. "Good," he said.

"Sir…" the torturer said uncomfortably, "I think we have all that we can get from her. Anymore and she won't be able to last the night."

Frollo looked disappointed, but agreed. Esmeralda didn't even know what was happening until she was released from the boot, so that she curled up in her manacles to fight away her tears.

"Leave us," Frollo rumbled, "I must speak with the prisoner."

The torturer and the guards left Frollo in the cell, and even though Frollo was not the one who operated the boot, she was more afraid to be alone with him than with the torturer.

"You must think there is no escape for you," Frollo told her, standing over her with a contemptuous sneer. "You're wrong."

She looked up at him, too afraid to meet his eyes, and somehow dreading his alternative more than her own death.

"I can save your soul, but you would have to formalize the agreement with me," Frollo said steadily, and yet there was a tremor just below the surface of his words.

"What power do you have over souls?" she whimpered up at him. "You don't look like God to me."

He drew himself up a little taller and looked down at her along the length of his considerable nose. "I am made in the image of God, so indeed, I do look like God," he sneered, but Esmeralda did not particularly think that was the point of whatever he was referencing. "All you would have to do is accept my offer to become my wife, and then you will be saved from the flames of this world and the next."

Esmeralda's mouth fell open. "What?"

That was the last thing she had expected from him, but honestly now that he'd demanded it, she thought she ought to have seen it coming.

"It is simple: once you belong to me, I will absolve you of your sins, and then you will go to heaven, rather than where you are currently destined."

"You don't know where I'm going, and it has nothing to do with me," she hissed back at him.

"I am a righteous, holy man, I am purer than vulgar filth like you!" he snapped. "You wouldn't know about such things, but I do! You will lose your life unless you choose me, and when you die you will go directly to Hell! Instead, allow me to teach you how to be holy."

Esmeralda looked around the room, at the whips coiled on pegs and the devices she could not name which appeared to be fashioned for unspeakable horrors. "You would know a lot about purity, wouldn't you?" she drawled.

"More than you could ever learn, but I will share my righteousness with you…" he knelt over her. "My love for you burns like molten lead… it sears my very soul, and there is no relief… it must be sated!"

His hands were on her, and though she was weakened and shackled, Esmeralda fought to rebuff him.

"Stop!" she cried desperately, feeling how she was being violated and wishing she could reach her dagger. She would love to slice through his face!

The door opening stopped Frollo rather than her cries or her rattling shackles, for Frollo needed to look respectable when the guards came in.

"One of our prisoners is going mad!" said the guard, who was nursing his bloody nose.

"Get out of here you idiot!" Frollo shouted. "Deal with the other prisoners, yourselves!"

"He's going to break out! We need your help!"

Frollo hissed under his breath, and asked, "Who is it?"

"Cap-Phoebus!" one of the other guards said.

Esmeralda's heart fluttered at the thought that he was fighting for her—he must have heard her screams!

Frollo saw the satisfied smugness of her smile, and gripped her hair in one spidery hand. "The choice is yours. Phoebus dies with you unless you choose me."

Those dark eyes knew precisely what venom lay behind them.

"You think you can use my love for Phoebus against me?" she hissed at him.

"Love?" Frollo repeated, and made a low, disturbing noise which was not laughter. "Tell him what I've offered you. Tell him that if you choose me, I will return him to his family and order my men not to reveal what he did unless he threatens us."

Esmeralda snarled at him, but her manacles were being unlocked, and she was being carried out of the room. At least she would be with Phoebus again…

He cried out at the sight of her, and reached through the bars of the door. "Are you all right?" he asked, before allowing himself to be driven back into the cell so that the door could be opened.

It was barely large enough for one person, but the addition of Esmeralda did not cause him any difficulties, since he merely snatched her away from the guards and crouched down with her in his lap.

"Your foot…" he whispered just before the door was slammed on them both.

"Forget the foot… Frollo…" she shuddered. "I'm just glad to be back with you."

"What did he do?" he asked with a dangerous rumble in his undertone.

"He…" she cleared her throat. "He gave me a choice… I could save you if I married him, instead."

Phoebus stiffened, and the way his grip tightened on her told her he was feeling a bit possessive. Slowly, however, he let out a sigh and his arms loosened. "You have to do it…" he whispered softly. "I can't let him kill you, no matter what else he was going to do… It would be a chance to escape, at least…"

"I won't do it… for myself… but think of it, Phoebus, there's no reason you should die. You're a good man, you're—"

"I'm your husband. If you die, I have to watch, don't I? If I watch that, I'll die happily just to be with you on the other side."

She gazed up at him, wondering at how easily he committed to die after only knowing her for so short a time.

"I know, it doesn't seem logical. But this is about principles, too. This is about standing by my choices. I fought on the battlefield for some dispute that had nothing to do with me, it was an arrangement between kings, and it forced me to kill people I would ordinarily have considered my friends. But now I have the chance to stand for what I believe is right. If you won't save yourself, neither will I."

She was overcome with tears, and clung to him with her face pressed to his chest. His arms were wrapping more tightly around her again, and somehow knowing that they would die together seemed as if it were just as well.

"I used to be naïve enough to think I'd live to see the day we'd live under the rule of true justice," she whispered.

"You're not dead yet, Esmeralda," he rubbed her back, "something could still change."

"Not yet," she acknowledged. "But still I know I will die long before that morning dawns, but I still believe that one day humanity will be wiser…. The world just has to be a little older first."

"What you want is for the perfect rule of God to be enacted here on earth," he whispered softly. "I have to admit, that would save us both, but we can't expect imperfect humans to do a thing like that."

"I still believe someday we can be closer to it than we are now," she said, and somehow, this discussion dulled the pain in her foot, so she clung to it. "Life will be fairer…" she took a deep breath. "There won't be so many desperate people on the streets…" She squeezed her eyes shut, and forced more words out to combat her pain. "Greed will not pay, anymore, either."

"Then I say Godspeed to that bright millennium," Phoebus replied softly, but no less fervently for the softness. "My prayer for you is that you've predicted the truth and you will live to see it despite the odds."

She laughed softly. "There are still days like this… there will always be days… dark and bitter like this one… and it'll seem like we haven't got a prayer…" she drifted off, grimacing at the agony in her foot.

Rather than allow the silence to consume her, Phoebus spoke up. "But a prayer for something better is the one thing we all share. Perhaps that will be enough one day… all of us praying and fighting for justice together." He kissed her hair. "If only there were more of us like you."

"One day…" she whispered as sleep reached out and closed her eyes. "Someday…" she yawned. "Soon."

What was soon was dawn, when the soldiers came for their prisoners. It was too soon, in fact. The weary prisoners were powerless against the hands which forced them into cages mounted on carts and hauled them away.

Even though she was forced to stand, Esmeralda was grateful that she was the first to go. At least she would not have to hear the screams of the others. It would be she who set the example for the others, so even though as she watched the dry bundles of twigs tossed at her feet she was terrified, she strove to keep her composure.

Frollo stood at a short distance, receiving a torch before he approached her and spoke in a hushed tone. "The time has come, Gypsy. You stand on the brink of the abyss. Yet even now, you can be saved."

She couldn't possibly avoid listening, but she still knew Frollo didn't have anything approaching good intentions.

"Choose me, or the fire!"

Somehow, Esmeralda was less intimidated by the torch Frollo thrust into her face than by how he leaned closer. And there was his ultimatum once more.

Supposedly, she was as callous as him, and he thought there was actual merit to her choosing him. Aside from, naturally, avoiding a prolonged, torturous demise… Then, of course, she would let him do whatever he wanted to her, and she would let him murder her loved ones.

It was so sick that she spat in Frollo's face, and glared at him with all the rage accumulated in her heart ever since she had come to Paris.

He returned a matching glare for her audacity, but she was past caring.

Death. Death and agony would follow soon, and soon she would be nothing but charred remains…

Would God let her into Heaven? Surely not…

The torch captivated her attention, even as Frollo was denouncing her.

"The Gypsy Esmeralda has refused to recant! This evil witch has put the soul of every citizen of Paris in mortal peril! Look around you at the destruction she has wrought!"

Esmeralda stared at Frollo as she wondered how many Parisians would remember this day and use her as the scapegoat for all his crimes. When next gypsies tried to live in Paris, would they be murdered on sight to avoid this manner of uproar?

"For justice! For Paris! And for her own salvation!"

Would this really save her? Of course, since Frollo was saying it, it must be a lie.

"It is my sacred duty to send this unholy demon back where she belongs!" With that, Frollo touched the flames to the bundles of kindling at Esmeralda's feet.

The fire spread as from above, Esmeralda heard someone shout, "No!" it sounded like Quasimodo, but he couldn't be watching… She hadn't expected the bells to begin ringing, but perhaps this was only a sound that everyone heard before they died…

The smoke climbed into her lungs, stinging and choking. She could all but hear it laugh and leer at her… ah… as she coughed, she saw Frollo doing just that.

At least she would close her eyes soon, never to see him again… Her prayer as conscious faded from her, was that God would take her to be with him, even if she didn't deserve it, and she would finally be safe from Frollo… once and for all…