Chapter 37: The Introduction

Esmeralda was depressed after waking up. She'd had a pleasant dream of Phoebus, and was now very disappointed that it wasn't real.

For a few minutes she cried into a pillow. Sleeping in a bed alone was more lonely than she'd anticipated. She'd grown accustomed to spending nights near someone, but that hadn't been on her mind when she'd asked Claude's permission to stay the night. He'd given her one of the extra rooms. He'd assumed that was what she wanted, and Esmeralda herself had thought she wanted it. But this morning's sadness made her wish she'd shared a bed with her husband. She fondly remembered Claude's actions after her heartbreak, holding her through the night.

She wondered if she should look for him now. The morning had barely started. The church bells had not yet rung. But the lonesome feeling of this room was upsetting. Esmeralda decided to simply check if Claude was awake. She wouldn't bother him if he wasn't.


Claude sat at his desk, writing in the dim light. It was the only thing he could think to do at the moment, since he'd found himself awake so early in the morning.

His desk was now littered with poetry. It was a sight that provoked mixed feelings. Claude was proud of his work, but it was a sign to him of what could have been. He decided that the professor who had once wanted him to give up on law had been right. He shouldn't have become the Minister of Justice. He should only have been a writer. Writers didn't oppress people or burn cities.

Claude sighed. He was disappointed by the realization that his career had been so wasted. He'd pursued it out of passion for righteousness, but his idea of righteousness had been too twisted. Now he could only hope to atone for the ways he'd abused his power.

The church bells rang. They made Claude sentimental. He eyed the carvings on his desk that Quasimodo had so kindly made for him. They were beautiful, especially the most recent one.

Claude relived the events that had taken place after he was injured. He became angry with himself when he remembered how he'd scolded Quasimodo in the tent. The boy didn't deserve that after showing him such concern. And even after that, Quasimodo had still made that carving of the cathedral for him.

That little model of Notre Dame still stood proudly on Claude's desk. He looked at it sadly, tracing over the shape of it with his fingers. The wood was smooth and the details made for a fascinating texture. Quasimodo had worked hard on it. Claude wondered how he had ever raised someone so good when he himself had been so cruel. He was hurt by the thought that he might not again have that kind boy in his life.

"Good morning." Esmeralda greeted.

Claude jumped back in his chair, startled. He turned his head to see Esmeralda at the door. He hadn't even heard the door open, so this was a fright.

"Sorry!" Esmeralda quickly apologized. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Claude exhaled.

"No worries." He assured. "May I ask what prompted you to come into my room so early?"

"Nothing serious." Esmeralda replied. "I just don't want to be alone. Feelings are stupid."

Claude felt sorry for her when he imagined the reasons for her loneliness. He wondered if this should be acknowledged.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked.

"Not now." Esmeralda declined. "I'd prefer a distraction. What are you working on?"

She journeyed over to Claude's desk, glancing at the papers that covered it.

"Just some poetry." Claude replied. "Would you care to see?"

"I'm still not much of a reader." Esmeralda said disappointedly.

"We could practice your reading for a while." Claude suggested. "Would you like that?"

Esmeralda barely smiled.

"Yes. I would like that."

"Is there anything else you want to do today?"

"Well, I should probably check on Quasimodo, see if he's feeling better."

Claude's expression became sorrowful.

"I do wish I could join you." He shared.

"Just wait." Esmeralda encouraged. "I really think he'll come around."

Claude eyed the tiny Notre Dame on his desk, brushing his hand over it again.

"I hope so." He said unconfidently.


Claude went with Esmeralda to the cathedral at noon. The judge had plans with the archdeacon, so it was convenient for him to meet Jean while Esmeralda met Quasimodo.

Esmeralda anxiously went up the stairs to the belltower. She found Quasimodo working on some carvings, solemnly.

"Hi, Esmeralda." He said weakly.

"Hello, Quasimodo." Esmeralda replied. "I brought lunch."

"Great."

They ate lunch quietly. It became apparent that none of the awkwardness had disappeared. Esmeralda finally decided to address it.

"How are you doing?" She asked.

"As well as I can." Quasimodo shrugged.

"You don't look happy." Esmeralda observed.

Quasimodo fiddled with his carving knife.

"I'm sorry." He apologized. "I don't know how to act normal after yesterday."

Esmeralda hated to see her friend so depressed. She tried to say something helpful.

"Quasi, it's okay." She reassured. "I'm not upset about how you feel. I still want to be your friend."

"I'm glad." Quasimodo responded. "But... It's not that easy for me."

Esmeralda was frightened by the implication.

"You mean... You don't want to be friends?"

"No!"

Quasimodo quickly moved from a sullen mood to a desperate one.

"I can't just lose you!" He insisted. "You mean too much to me. I do want to be friends. It's just that... I don't know how at the moment."

A crestfallen look crossed Esmeralda's face. Quasimodo wasn't ready to simply carry on like usual. He couldn't resume all of his typical chatting and jesting with Esmeralda when his heart was freshly broken over her. The mere sight of her was clearly upsetting to him.

"I understand..." Esmeralda said disappointedly.

She looked like she might cry, and that made Quasimodo even more upset. He gently took her hands in his much larger ones.

"Please don't cry." He begged. "I'll get over it, and then we can keep having fun like we always have. I just need a little time."

Esmeralda nodded. She hoped that this time wouldn't last too long.


"I appreciate you making time to speak with me." Claude said gratefully.

"It is no trouble." Jean assured. "How have things been? I hear that you've been working construction."

"Yes. And I'll be doing more of it today. It seems only right."

"That's quite ambitious. I don't think I would have the strength."

The judge and the archdeacon strolled through the church, discussing life. At one point, Claude remembered something he'd been meaning to say.

"I never thanked you," He started. "For being there to help after my father died."

"It was only the decent thing to do." Jean argued. "You were suffering."

"More than I should have." Claude commented. "My perception of everything has changed so much since realizing that all the mistreatment wasn't my fault. It means that my father's death wasn't my fault either. And to be honest, I don't know how to feel about that."

"What troubles you about it?"

"I mourned so greatly at the time because I thought he was a good man, and that my failure had been the death of him. But now I know that he wasn't so good, and I feel that I shouldn't care about losing him."

Claude shook his head at himself.

"But I do." He continued. "I'm still sad when I think of my father's death. I'm even sad when I think of my mother's death, which I never blamed myself for."

Claude looked at Jean questioningly.

"Am I foolish for that?" He asked.

"It is natural to feel something for the people who raised you." Jean assured. "Even if they did a very poor job of it."

Claude thought of Quasimodo, whom he had raised so poorly. The boy seemed to prove Jean's point, having been so warm toward Claude despite taking continual abuse from him. But not now. Now Claude could only pray for the estrangement between the two of them to end.

"You know, there is someone who wants to meet you." Jean brought up. "I must introduce you to-"

"UNCLE!" A feminine voice interrupted.

Claude and Jean looked ahead of them. A girl was coming their way with hands full of candles.

"Uncle Jean! I found those candles you wanted. Where did you want-"

The girl stopped in front of the judge and the archdeacon. She froze, dropping the candles.

"Elaine," Jean said warmly. "Meet Claude Frollo. Claude, this is my niece."

Claude looked at the maiden. She was younger than he'd thought. When he'd seen her in the dark attic, he'd thought she was around the same age as Esmeralda. But she was younger, probably even younger than Quasimodo. Her face was youthful and freckled. She appeared to be in her late teens.

"Minister Frollo..." Elaine murmured.

She smiled widely.

"Oh, you saved my life! It's so good to finally see you! Could I... Could I hug you?"

"I don't think he is much of a hugger." Jean informed.

"Nonsense!" Claude disagreed. "Actually... I would rather like a hug."

Jean was surprised, but Elaine did not hesitate to rush to the judge and embrace him.

Claude was confused as he hugged her back, albeit appreciative. He was still surprised by the presence of people who felt anything positive for him, and this girl seemed to have nothing but positive feelings for him. Being hugged by her was a nice feeling. It took away every thought Claude had just had about his torn relationship with Quasimodo.

"Thank you!" Elaine practically shouted. "Thank you so much for saving me!"

She let go of Claude and looked at him apologetically.

"I'm so sorry you got hurt!" She said with concern. "I was worried when they took you away in that tent! Are you alright now?"

"I am quite alright." Claude assured. "But thank you, for your concern."

"Of course!" Elaine replied. "I'm so very grateful to you. I wanted to give you something- let me go and get it!"

Elaine bolted away, but not before picking up the candles she had dropped. Claude watched in wonder.

"How little does she know about me?" He questioned.

"She had only just moved to Paris when you saved her." Jean explained. "She knew nothing of you before then. I did inform her that you've not been such a heroic figure in the past, but you've been visibly redeeming yourself in the eyes of the people. That, combined with your first impression, has been enough to make her see you quite favorably."

"And why did she just recently come here?" Claude questioned.

"She was studying to be a nun." Jean informed. "But it became apparent that she was far too free spirited for that. Her parents died some years ago, so I am her only family. She is staying with me now, while she tries to find her place in the world."

The idea of Elaine being a nun felt humorous. Claude barely knew her, but he already agreed that she was a free spirit.

"How old is she?" He finally asked.

"Eighteen." Jean replied.

So she was a little younger than Quasimodo, as Claude had suspected.

Elaine returned in a run with a rectangular item in her hands.

"Here it is!" She announced. "I made this painting for you! Do you like it?"

Claude took the painting and looked at it. He was immediately impressed. It was a beautiful picture of a landscape.

"I love it." Claude replied. "Where did you learn to paint like this?"

It was a wonder that such a young girl had produced such a professional piece of art. Claude had seen many works by very experienced painters, and this painting was just as finely made.

"Oh, I taught myself." Elaine replied. "I lived in a convent for a while, and it was ever so boring there! I did a lot of painting to entertain myself."

"Amazing..." Claude remarked. "You have quite a talent."

"Thank you!" Elaine replied happily.

Suddenly, Claude heard footsteps coming down the stairs of the belltower. He looked and saw Esmeralda emerge, looking sullen. Claude strode up to her.

"How is everything?" He asked.

"Could be better." Esmeralda replied. "But I suppose it could be worse. He needs some time."

Claude nodded in understanding.

"Who is this?" Elaine asked.

Esmeralda noticed the girl and immediately wondered who she was. Why was she here with Claude and the archdeacon?

"This is Esmeralda." Claude explained. "My... Friend."

He'd nearly called her his wife, but he knew that Esmeralda probably didn't wish to be referred to that way.

"Esmeralda, this is my niece." Jean introduced.

"My name is Elaine." Elaine shared. "Minister Frollo saved my life not long ago."

Esmeralda was interested in this scenario. So this was the young woman who Claude had saved, and she happened to be related to the archdeacon!

"I remember." Esmeralda commented. "It was... very brave of him."

"Indeed!" Elaine remarked. "What were you doing in the belltower?"

"Oh, I was just seeing Quasimodo." Esmeralda explained.

"The bell ringer?" Elaine asked. "Oh, of course! You're friends with him, aren't you? I've seen the two of you walking in town together!"

"Yes..." Esmeralda replied, slightly sullen.

"It's nice of you to visit him." Elaine commented. "He must be lonely up there."

"He is." Esmeralda confirmed. "More so than usual, I think..."

"How sad..." Elaine thought aloud. "Do you think it would be alright if I went to see him?"

Esmeralda's eyes widened.

"That..." She started. "...Sounds like a great idea."

Claude looked at her, then at Elaine.

"I agree." He decided.

"Uncle," Elaine said to Jean. "May I go up to the belltower?"

"You may." Jean said with a smile. "After you finish your chores."

"Of course!" Elaine said appreciatively.

She started away from the group.

"It was a pleasure to meet you both!" She said to Claude and Esmeralda.

"Likewise." Claude returned.

Esmeralda only smiled. She was still sad to be away from her friend for the time being, but now she had hope that someone might keep him company during this time.

She had a feeling that Quasimodo and Elaine would get along.


The plot thickens! Thanks again for reading, and thank you especially for your comments! They are always appreciated.