Chapter 15: The Recovery
Frollo barely opened his eyes. He was in his own bed now, and the light from the window told him it was daytime. Esmeralda and the doctor stood over him.
"Good morning." The doctor greeted. "I thought I ought to see how you're doing, now that you've slept."
"Poorly." Frollo muttered under his breath.
"Are you in pain?" The doctor asked.
"Yes." Frollo replied.
"What hurts?"
"Everything, naturally."
"I'd like you to try standing."
Frollo wasn't confident that he could stand, as the fall from the attic had battered his legs. He had to put one arm around the doctor and the other around Esmeralda just to get to his feet. He didn't last long like that. Standing was painful. Esmeralda and the doctor quickly laid Frollo down again.
"It's just as I thought." The doctor said pessimistically. "You have quite a bit of healing to do."
"What can I do?" Esmeralda asked.
"I expect he'll need around-the-clock care for several days at least." The doctor answered. "Make sure he gets plenty of bedrest and change his bandages periodically to keep the wounds clean. I'll come by in a week to take the stitches out, God willing."
Frollo was humiliated that he was to be at Esmeralda's mercy. The previous night had been horrific, but the doctor's orders added insult to injury.
Esmeralda came to sit on the edge of the bed after seeing the doctor out.
"How are you feeling?" She asked.
Frollo closed his eyes, ignoring her.
"Did you sleep alright?" Esmeralda asked. "No nightmares, hopefully?"
Frollo sighed.
"Oh, I had quite a nightmare." He replied with sarcasm. "I dreamed that I was badly hurt, and people crowded around me, and the damned Captain let them all see that disgusting mark of mine..."
"Give him some credit!" Esmeralda defended. "You fell from an attic and you were bleeding all over. He had to make sure you weren't mortally wounded. There wasn't really time to get rid of all those people first."
She looked at Frollo with a touch of sadness.
"And it's not disgusting." She finished.
Frollo didn't acknowledge her. But Esmeralda wouldn't give up.
"Are you hungry?" She asked. "I can get you something to eat."
"Don't start with me." Frollo threatened.
"Your pride shouldn't be the reason you starve." Esmeralda advised. "Look here, I didn't ask for this either. But you're in pretty bad shape right now, so I'm going to be taking care of you for a while, whether you like it or not. Unless you'd rather have someone else do it."
Frollo couldn't think of someone he'd prefer to do the job. A servant would do it if he asked, but he certainly didn't want to invite a new person into this vulnerable moment.
"I suppose I am a bit hungry." Frollo admitted. "I wouldn't mind some bread and water."
"Right away." Esmeralda agreed.
She brought it to him quickly. Frollo managed to sit up in bed and eat, though it was difficult with his aching and bandaged hands.
"I hear you saved a woman last night." Esmeralda mentioned when Frollo finished his meal.
"Apparently I did." Frollo said in disbelief.
"You sound as shocked as I am." Esmeralda commented.
"Truly, I don't know what came over me." Frollo admitted.
Risking his life to save someone wasn't in the judge's nature. He struggled to think of a reason for his actions, but he could remember none. All he could remember was seeing the woman in danger and instinctively rushing to save her.
For once, Esmeralda didn't question Frollo's words. She wholeheartedly believed that even he didn't know why he had done something so heroic. So, she decided to ask for the other answer she wanted.
"Who did you think I was when you said you were sorry?" Esmeralda asked.
"I have nothing to say about that." Frollo replied.
More secrets. So this was how it would be. Esmeralda decided to let it go for now.
"Will you be alright if I leave for a few hours?" She asked.
"And just where would you be going?" Frollo questioned.
"To visit Quasimodo, of course."
"Without me?!"
"Do I really need to explain why? You're in no condition to go anywhere. Especially not up all those stairs in the belltower."
Esmeralda was right, and Frollo didn't like that.
"So be it." He said scornfully. "I'm sure Quasimodo would much prefer it that way."
"On the contrary," Esmeralda disagreed. "I believe he's dying to see you after what happened last night."
Esmeralda thought of the look on Quasimodo's face when she'd seen him. He would definitely want to be reassured that Frollo was recovering.
"I could always bring him here." Esmeralda suggested.
Frollo looked at her as if she'd brutally insulted him.
"Absolutely not!" He retorted. "He is not allowed anywhere out of the belltower, but especially not here! And I don't want him to see me like this under any circumstances!"
"It's a little late for that." Esmeralda reminded.
"Don't remind me!"
"You really upset him last night."
"I don't care!"
"Well, you should! There are so few people who care for you, Frollo. Do you want to push away one of the only people in the world who would care if you died?!"
Frollo hadn't thought about it before because death had seemed so far away from him, but it occurred to him that Quasimodo was indeed one of the only people who would have bothered coming to his funeral.
He remembered the night when he'd fallen asleep by the fireplace and Esmeralda had brought a blanket to him. Berating her afterwards had been a mistake. Frollo realized that what he'd said to Quasimodo in the tent had been a far greater mistake.
"Tell him I send my apologies." Frollo instructed. "And that I will see him when I'm well."
That was the best he could offer. This mistake needed to be fixed, but Frollo still didn't wish to see the boy until he was mostly healed, dressed, and mobile.
Esmeralda understood Frollo's thinking. She could see that this was the best case scenario, so she agreed to it.
Quasimodo was painting one of his wooden Parisians when Esmeralda came.
"What are you working on?" Esmeralda asked.
"My favorite one so far." Quasimodo answered.
He added the last touches of paint and set the figure on the table with the rest. Esmeralda recognized the carving.
"Is that me?" She asked with a smile.
"It sure is!" Quasimodo replied proudly. "I had another one, but Frollo burned it."
Esmeralda cringed.
"When did that happen?"
"When he was telling me off for helping you escape. He wrecked everything on this table, actually. I had to rebuild some of it."
Esmeralda didn't want to think about the obsession Frollo must have had over her in order to lose control like that.
"I can't understand why he would fly into such a rage over me." She said in disbelief.
"I can." Quasimodo said without thinking.
"Excuse me?"
"Oh! I mean... Not the violence, of course. But I can understand why anyone would be... Deeply interested in you. I think you're magnificent."
Esmeralda smiled.
"You're too kind." She said appreciatively. "I'm sorry Frollo hasn't appreciated that."
Quasimodo frowned.
"Is he okay?" He inquired.
"Not well, but very much alive." Esmeralda answered.
"Is he still mad at me?"
"I think he's over it. He told me to tell you he's sorry. And he'll come over when he's well enough."
Quasimodo sighed sorrowfully.
"I wouldn't have barged in there if I knew..." He said regretfully.
"I know you wouldn't." Esmeralda said trustingly.
"How did he get that scar? It looked horrible."
"He won't tell me."
Quasimodo picked up his figure of Frollo.
"I have a hard time picturing him as someone who suffers." He thought aloud.
"Everyone does." Esmeralda noted. "I'm sure he's resentful about that changing."
Frollo was asleep when Esmeralda returned. She was glad of that. It meant she would have a little time to herself. But what was there to do?
She remembered that she'd brought back her husband's damaged clothes the night before, planning to mend them. That would be a relaxing activity, and a useful one.
Esmeralda sat on the empty side of the bed and got to work with a needle and thread. Frollo had taken numerous slashes from his opponent's sword, so there was plenty to fix. The damage aroused Esmeralda's sympathy. All those blows must have been painful. The bloodstains had been the most disturbing part, but those were gone now. Esmeralda had been quick to wash them out the night before. She hated the sight of blood.
Frollo eventually woke up and saw her.
"What are you doing?" He questioned.
"Fixing the clothes you shredded last night." Esmeralda explained.
Frollo watched intently as Esmeralda's careful hand guided the needle with precision. This was more than he'd asked or expected her to do. There was something amazing about it, the way she undertook these unnecessary acts of kindness.
He reached a bandaged hand out to her, gently touching her back and running his fingers through her hair. Esmeralda looked at him.
"Is there something you want to say?" She asked.
"I like you." Frollo told her.
Esmeralda rolled her eyes.
"Yes, I'm well aware that you like me."
"I don't mean it that way."
Esmeralda stared, not sure what to make of this.
"You've been a thorn in my side." Frollo continued. "It made me angry to desire you, someone I despised so much. But I'm beginning to like you."
"And what do you like about me?" Esmeralda inquired.
"You do these things for me." Frollo acknowledged. "And you talk to me. And make me feel normal."
Frollo realized too late that he'd vocalized the last part. He hadn't meant to share the fact that he hardly ever felt normal, or that Esmeralda's ability to talk to him like he were anyone else did something to change that feeling. Thankfully, she didn't comment on it. She returned her attention to her sewing.
"I could like you." Esmeralda said coldly.
"Could?" Frollo asked.
"I like how well spoken you are." Esmeralda shared. "And how interested you are in literature. And I like that you're brave."
Her voice was unhappy. Frollo hadn't expected to receive a reaction like this to the most benevolent words he'd ever said to her.
"I could like you," She repeated. "If you were a better man."
Normally, Frollo would have argued with her. But he was paralyzed by the pain in his flesh and the piercing nature of Esmeralda's words.
Why should he care? Frollo never cared for anyone's approval, as long as he himself believed he was a good man. Perhaps that was the problem. Something about Esmeralda made it harder for him to believe that. It was like she knew some guilty secret of his that no one else did.
