The heavy iron-bar door creaked loudly as the guard swung it open, Frollo stepping forth in front of the cold, dark cell. The whole place was pitch black without the sole illumination of the few torches adorning the stone walls. "Now," he mockingly began. "Have we learned our lesson, Jehan?"

The teen sat in a corner of the tiny cell, hugging his knees to his chest. He glared spitefully at the Minister as he stood up. True to his word, Frollo had ordered for Jehan to be held in the Palace of Justice's dungeons for a week now with the delivery of daily meals serving as his only instances of human interaction; the Minister established strict rule against speaking to the prisoner. Needless to say, Jehan had grown painfully bored and resentful towards his brother's position of power. The curses he'd muttered under his breath did not go unheard by the guards.

The boy said nothing as he walked past the judge while exiting the cell. His expensive clothes were damp and stained from the dungeon's filth and he smelled no better.

"Come along," the Minister ordered, leading Jehan out of the bowels of the Palace. Frollo smiled at the lack of spirit in someone who prided himself over his devil-may-care attitude and reckless lifestyle, relishing in the notion that he might have broken his brother at last.

Finally this hellion has learned his place, the judge thought contently as he walked, Jehan still remaining wordless and keeping his gaze down towards the ground. Frollo had enjoyed his brother's absence this week, savoring that his work was not constantly interrupted by the teen's daily plea for money to waste on disgusting vices.

Upon reaching the front doors of the Palace, Frollo turned to address his brother. "I hope that you remember this experience next time you have the urge to do something so utterly foolish; next time, think before you act, Jehan!"

Jehan turned his back to his brother and shuffled out of the Palace of Justice, leaving Frollo to mull over his own thoughts.

Damn ingrate, Frollo thought as he turned towards the grand staircase, ready to return to his study.

X

"…remissionem peccatorum, carnis resurrectionem, vitam aeternam. Amen." Quasimodo slept soundly at the Minister's resonating voice as the latter recited his prayers.

Carefully, Frollo placed him back into his cradle before a familiar voice greeted him. "So, has your brother turned over a new leaf since you released him from his sentence?"

Turning towards the Archdeacon, Frollo replied, "Strangely, I haven't heard from him since that day, and I can only hope that he has not reverted back to his old ways, Father." It had been two days since Jehan had left the Palace of Justice from his sentence, not once intruding on his brother's work. What should have been a peaceful break from the boy's nonsense did not sit well with the elder brother.

"Unfortunately, that can only mean that he's out wreaking havoc somewhere," the Minister relented grimly. Bitterly, he then said "He'll never change. And if I had not made such a foolish promise years ago that I would always keep watch over him, I would gladly let him suffer at the hands of the real world."

"Have faith in your brother, Claude," Father Augustin assured him. "He might be unruly now, but eventually he will grow out of it. You can only guide and encourage him to change his ways, and you know, of course, it is not an easy task. But it will be worth it when the day comes when he thanks you for leading him in the right direction."

Frollo considered these words: it seemed, however, that most of his life consisted of finding Jehan in trouble. How optimistic the judge had been of his little brother's future before, imagining that he would follow in the elder's footsteps and become a promising scholar. However, he was without a doubt disappointed with the end result of his brother's lifestyle. It seemed that the drink, card tables, and women's hold over Jehan were too strong to free him. It would be quite a reward in itself to hear the boy credit his older brother for turning into an upright, productive member of society. Unfortunately, that seemed like an unreachable pipe dream for the long-suffering Minister.

"And if it's any consolation, at least your brother can serve as an example of how not to raise a child," Augustin assured, waving in the direction of the child.

"Very much so," Frollo evenly replied looking down at the sleeping infant then gently rocking the cradle to prevent it from waking up. "I have sworn to myself that Quasimodo will never be like him—quite the opposite, in fact. No vices, no rebellion or objection, and only undying gratitude to me."

"That seems a bit excessive," Augustin pointed out, doubt coloring his face. "I'm sure that it would serve you both more if you were just not as distant and lenient as with your brother."

"I don't care. I would rather Quasimodo be a quiet, reclusive subordinate than a reincarnation of Jehan." Frollo's tone of voice indicated no trace of clemency, only that he was set about his plan.

Clasping his hands patiently, the Archdeacon simply responded, "I see. As you wish, Minister. I suppose you should be heading back to the Palace of Justice since it's late."

"Quite." Picking up his hat from the nearby table, Frollo nodded and headed out without another word.

As he rode his horse along the dimly-lit streets of Paris, Frollo took note of all of the drunks, strumpets, and beggars that adorned the streets and alleyways. These characters made him increasingly curious as to what Jehan had been up to in the time that he did not come to solicit money from him. No doubt Jehan was lingering in some card den with the likes of these wastes of life.

Perhaps his little gambling vice has finally rewarded him with what he deserved, he sadistically hoped. If he were to receive a report that his brother had been injured—or worse—by one of his many enemies to whom he owed money, Frollo would show some remorse for the only family member he had left, but not enough to embark on some city-wide vendetta against Jehan's attackers.

Still, his absence raised questions in the judge's head. What could that boy be up to?

X

There was a light knock on the door, which was strange to the Minister at this late hour. He called for them to enter as he continued to shuffle through pieces of parchment, not even looking up at who was entering his uninviting study.

"Evening, Claude," Jehan's voice said sweetly. He flashed a smile that was devoid of any humor or mirth, rather something foreboding.

The judge's head snapped up upon hearing his brother's voice. Keeping his voice steady, he calmly asked, "Where have you been these last few days?"

Jehan shrugged. "Oh, around. Here and there. But you know me, I just can't stay away for too long." His last statement was sprinkled with condescension.

"What on earth could you possibly want at this hour, Jehan?" Frollo asked loathingly, gathering up his work and stacking the pieces neatly in a corner of the desk. Despite his question, he had an idea of what the boy could be here for.

The boy smiled and replied, "Fear not, dear brother, I'm not seeking your patronage at this time."

Frollo raised an eyebrow suspiciously at this response. "Is that so?"

"No, instead I brought something for you." Jehan cocked his head back, indicating his surprise was behind the door.

The Minister rose from his seat and approached his brother. "And what would that be?" he asked cautiously, instantly detecting no good from this statement.

"Well, I've noticed that the last few weeks haven't been easy for you. So...you need to loosen up."

Frollo crossed his arms and leaned against his desk, furrowing his brow at Jehan's statement. "'Loosen up'? I do not need to "loosen up", since stooping to your level would only encourage an unscrupulous lifestyle. And I believe you've indulged enough of for the both of us."

"Oh, please!" Jehan said without hiding a laugh. "You're wound too tight, and you could use one night to help you get through all this stress. Believe me when I say I know what happens to a man when he doesn't relax once in a while."

All you do is relax, he thought, unsympathetic. "Humor me then, little brother. If you wish for me to go along with your proposition, by what means would this be carried out?"

Jehan's face twisted into a devilish smirk and he rubbed his hands together. "I'm glad you asked." He turned back to open the door and popped his head around the corner. "Pásale!" Stepping aside, Jehan was joined by two women—a redhead and ebony-haired one—both with heavy make-up and tight black dresses entering the Minister's domain.

Frollo's eyes widened and expression dropped at the sight. "Wha…What is the meaning of this?!"

"Exactly what I explained to you, Claude," Jehan said smugly, slinging his arms over the two luxuriantly. "A man needs to let loose every now and again, and by the looks of it, you are in dire need of that."

Exhaling in disbelief, Frollo then said, "Jehan, how you remedy whatever stressful situations that you find yourself in—if that's even possible—is in no way similar to how I handle things. This," he pointed at the quiet, stone-faced women. "Will not help me in the slightest—rather only worsen the state I'm already in! Believe me when I say I know what I am talking about."

The boy gave his brother a doubtful look. "Are you saying that you have actually had experience with women?" he asked jokingly.

Keeping a straight face, the judge vaguely answered, "My past actions are my own burden to bear, and are none of your concern."

True enough, Claude Frollo was not a man who enjoyed sharing information about himself, even to his own brother, fearing that the boy might use such knowledge for the wrong reasons. He was as much of a mystery to Jehan as he was to the rest of the city, but fortunately for the Minister, Jehan was too self-centered to care.

"Jehan, I am not asking you—I am ordering you to get these harlots out of my home now!" he said, raising his voice, casting the two women a fierce scowl.

His brother broke from his grip on the ladies and smirked at him. "So the Minister does have a weakness then?"

"What are you talking about?"

"A man's weakness can also be his only medicine," Jehan elaborated, eyes darting around the two harlots. "I see that in your case, it's women."

Frollo's mouth went dry as his brother's implications were heading toward a subject that he did not want to discuss.

Placing his hand on his brother's shoulder, Jehan said, "Go ahead, Claude. Just because you're Minister of Justice doesn't mean that you have to deprive yourself of all of the earthly pleasures that God gave mankind. Unless, of course, you're not man enough."

Frollo frowned at his brother's prodding. Looking again at these two now impatient looking women, the Minister suddenly felt a burning in his lower region, the temptation kicking in.

"Think about it," his brother continued, his tone conspiring. "You have enough work to last you a lifetime, and now you have a son to care for. Don't you think you deserve one night to forget about that and enjoy a little carnal pleasure?"

The torn judge thought about it for a few moments. Would it really be the end of the world to give into the sins of flesh for one night? He had no commitment or archdeacon looming over him to remind him of his wrongdoings, and Jehan would not mock him for breaking his religious dogma.

Don't you remember the effects of those previous times? His mind protested.

Unfortunately, every day.

Still…how often would he get this chance again? The aching in his breeches certainly had no objections. He could still hear Quasimodo's screeching cries; still see the contorted, angry faces of those he sentenced for their disregard of the law; the endless parchment scraps of reports from petty to major crimes; and of course the never-ending migraines and stress headaches—it was overwhelming! How many nights in the past few weeks had he been awoken by fearsome nightmares? Too many.

His body was taut with anxiety, his mind tormenting him with doubt and hatred, the endless, splitting headaches... Everything was quick to tighten his chest and jaw, making him want to crumble.

Maybe one night…

Any other time, the Minister would have easily resisted and stood his ground. However, the feeling below was becoming unbearable. One night... He took a deep breath before asking, "Which one?"

Jehan's eyebrows shot up in complete surprise of his brother's compliance and grinned widely. Giving a small chuckle, he then answered, "Take your pick, I've already paid for both of them."

Frollo was slightly put off by their silence and stoic demeanors. "Do they even understand what I am saying?"

The teen shook his head. "Not really. They just traveled here from Spain." It was fortunate enough that Jehan had picked up Spanish in his time of drinking with countless travelers.

Frollo looked longingly at the one whose black hair cascaded around her tan shoulders and bright blue eyes bore into his own gray ones. His mind sickeningly conjured up images of what animalistic things he desired to do once they reached his chambers. "That one," he said nodding in her direction, his fingers twitching at his sides.

Jehan pointed to her, "Ven aquí."

The woman studied the Minister intensely, which did not make him feel any more comfortable about this situation. Raising an eyebrow slightly, she smiled a little while examining him. That small, artificial look of warmth was inviting and made him yearn even more.

Jehan muttered something to her, to which she nodded in understanding. "Alright, she's all yours," he said, giving her a small push towards the judge.

The woman took hold Frollo's arm lightly, quickly causing his heartbeat to increase. Slightly trembling, the judge led her out of his study and down the hall towards his own chambers. The air around him suddenly felt colder as it contrasted with the heat building up inside of him. Opening the door, Frollo motioned for the woman to go inside, after which he followed and immediately deadbolted it.

As soon as he faced her, he froze as he watched her begin to shimmy out of the black dress. The burning sensation underneath urged him to follow suit, swiftly pulling his robe off and discarding it uncaringly. This is wrong..

X

Keeping his now scratched back to her, Frollo quickly tied the strings of his hose and promptly stated, "You may go now." He ignored the droplets of sweat that were beading on his forehead, some threatening to drip into his eyes.

Sitting up and keeping the linen sheet over her chest, the woman gave him a salacious smirk and asked, "Ya terminaste?"

Picking up the black robe on the floor, he turned to her and yelled, "Leave!" pointing to the door.

Despite not knowing at all what the Minister was saying, the woman could take a hint, swinging herself out of his bed and swiftly rearranging her clothes in the proper manner. As she exited, she mumbled out some Spanish words of farewell or something or else.

Frollo continued to dress himself, focused on the tedious task. Wiping the sweat from his brow, a blaring thought echoed in his mind: What were you thinking?! Sitting down on the edge of his bed, the Minister now rested his face in his hands while he contemplated, the anxiety instantly returning. Once again in his life, he had broken his piety for the urge of the flesh. How did this happen?!

How could he have made such grievous error in judgment? Better yet, how could he have taken the offer from Jehan of all people?

Placing his robe back in order and brushing his disheveled hair back, the judge exited his chambers and slowly walked back to his study, where sure enough Jehan sat at his brother's desk with a goblet of wine in hand.

"So," he began playfully and wiping his mouth. "Enjoy yourself? She certainly seemed to."

Eyes set to the floor, Frollo gravely responded, "It appears that I might have experienced a…misstep in judgment."

Jehan took another long sip from his goblet before saying, "I know," smiling diabolically.

Raising his gaze and narrowing his eyes at his brother, Frollo asked, "You 'know'?"

Jehan rose to his feet. In a strangely serious voice, he said, "And that was for putting me away in the dungeons."

Frollo blanched at this conniving display. "You blackmailed me?!" The bewildered judge said viciously, feeling his blood boiling. When did this young fool become to devious?

"You really do underestimate me, Claude. But yes, I could use it to my advantage and now we're even, but I won't. And I did do you a favor: if that whore thought you were good, then it couldn't have been that bad, right?"

Suddenly that satisfied smirk on his face disappeared as his brother grabbed one of his wrists in a blur, pinning them to the top of his desk, before reaching for the dagger that hung on his belt, which he raised to Jehan's throat. "I have had enough of your interference with my personal life!" he said viciously, Jehan's attempts to escape futile. "I am not afraid to kill you, Jehan—in fact, I feel as though I should right now. Your demise would easily save me a great deal of future trouble."

Knowing that he was no match for Claude's strength, Jehan blubbered pathetically, begging his brother for forgiveness. With remorseless eyes, Frollo watched his brother writhe and plead for his life. This really was a new low for Jehan.

Eyes rolling and huffing, the Minister then said, "I will cut you a deal."

Jehan's terror-stricken blue eyes welled with tears, much to his brother's disgust, as he looked up at Frollo in hope. "Anything! Whatever you say!"

For your sake, I hope so, inconsiderate leech.

"First of all, vow that you will never breathe a word of this incident to another soul as long as you live," he authoritatively demanded, the grip on Jehan's wrist becoming crushing.

"I promise I won't! Not a soul!"

"Second, never try to tempt me down the sinful path that you lead. I do not need the fate of my soul imperiled by the likes of you!"

Jehan was taken aback by such an accusation, a confused frown flashing across his face. He still tried to tear Claude's hand away from him. "To be fair, you didn't have to take her. You could have resisted, but you didn't."

"You caused me to sin!" the judge retorted furiously. "You and her! Never again will you lead me to do such a thing!"

"Fine, Claude! I'll agree with whatever twisted logic you possess."

Reluctantly, Frollo released his brother from his grip. Rubbing at his wrist, Jehan glared at the still fuming Minister of Justice before stomping out of his study.

Plopping himself down at his desk solemnly, Frollo internally pleaded, Dear Lord, why do you do this to me? He now felt disgusting, all former pleasure having quickly dissipated as quickly as it came.

x

*A/n: I know it's been a while since the last update since I got sidetracked by finals and projects. (And seeing Kamelot in concert which was my birthday present.) Here's to all those who have stuck with the story so far. And kudos and thanks to QueenxofxNo for finding and following me on Tumblr. Pardon my Spanish but just cause I live in a Spanish speaking community doesn't mean I learned

Yes, I do get some kind of sick kick from making Frollo suffer in these stories. R/r!