The tavern was lit only by single fire from the hearth, the smoke easily choking those sitting too close. Red-faced patrons sat side-by-side on wooden benches at tables, drowning themselves in their beloved poison.

From afar, Jehan could instantly recognize the familiar black and purple striped chaperon resting on the wooden counter at the end of the dimly-lit building. Next to it was a stiff figure that was the Minister of Justice sitting down. He almost didn't recognize his brother not screaming at someone or poring over paperwork.

Striding forward, Jehan pulled up a wooden stool next to his brother and suspiciously asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Collecting alms for the poor," Frollo snidely answered, taking a sip from the glass of wine in hand. "What do you think I am doing here?"

"Fair enough," Jehan agreed. "Pint of mead here!"

The large burly man behind the counter grimaced distastefully at the young man. "You got the money to pay for it this time?"

Smirking, Jehan glanced at his brother beside him. Claude averted his own gaze by focusing on his wine before Jehan got any ideas of asking him to cover his drink. Disappointed in this, Jehan frowned at his brother before answering to the man, "Don't worry, I got it covered."

Jehan slurped down the freshly poured mead. "Never took you for a tavern man, Claude—I thought you preferred to drink alone. What happened? You drink the whole Palace of Justice dry?"

Frollo nudged his brother in the arm mid-drink, Jehan spilling some down his chin and tunic. "I simply needed something to drink and did not feel like wasting my time returning to the Palace and back to my rounds. Otherwise I would not dare step foot into a commonplace of such scum. Now allow me to finish in peace." Frollo decided not to recount the sudden onset of guilt he felt watching his soldiers beat the life out of that gypsy. It was more relieving to simply dull the feeling with alcohol.

"Fat chance—if you're going to get plastered tonight, I'm going to be right by your side!"

Frollo could feel the wine's power kicking in, causing the muscles in his shoulders to slump. "Despite the fact that you only seem to be interested in getting drunk as a lord, I somewhat appreciate the gesture," he sarcastically quipped.

Jehan blinked at him. "Well there's the expression "Sober as a judge", which I guess in your situation means nothing. And I see you're still not the fun drunk, are you?" he swiped before downing some of his own drink. "What bit you in the ass today?"

Giving a dry chuckle and glancing down at his wine, Frollo stoically answered, "Godforsaken gypsies, that's who. They are getting on my last nerve when it comes to staying in line—going about and disrupting the normal order of society. I had to confront one today who does these absurd puppet shows and attempts to pass it off as entertainment. I should put in a request to the Crown for the means to create an army, then I would have the ability to purge them from the city!"

Jehan could see the agitated expression on his brother's face, even as he gulped down the rest of the wine in his glass before reaching for the nearby bottle and refilling it. The young man could tell that his brother had been drinking for a while now.

Leaning forward, Jehan quietly asked, "Just out of curiosity…how long have you been here?"

Frollo's gaze wandered away to the dark timbered ceiling above in thought. "That depends…how far is the sun from setting?"

Jehan laughed violently, nearly spitting out his drink and slamming his hand against the countertop. "Did you forget that you have a son locked up that you need to visit? Have you gone to see the little monster at all today?"

"This morning," Frollo deadpanned, staring pensively at the heavily scarred wooden countertop, his expression wan. "Trust me, he'll wait till the rapture for me if he needed to. I will return to see him in due time. Until then, I believe a drink is in place for my work." Again he took another long sip, Jehan downing his mead.

Suddenly a look of pain appeared on the judge's stone-like face.

"Why did it have to be me?" Frollo sullenly grumbled, clenching his fists tightly. "Of all the twisted souls set on God's green earth who are in dire need of punishment…it had to be myself who was charged with caring for him?"

Jehan raised an eyebrow at Frollo, awkwardly taking a sip of his drink, blue eyes never leaving his brother.

"I have always done what the Lord has expected of me!" the Minister continued to lament. "I attend Mass, recite my prayers, rid the city of those who tarnish it with their sin—all in His name—and how am I rewarded?!" Frollo's teeth gritted and breathing became strained as the heated words poured from his mouth. "By having to raise some crippled abomination! Bound to this Sisyphean task, and all because of some damn divine intervention!" The judge furiously slammed his fists against the hard surface before burying his face in his hands, all the while his brother watched with confusion.

Jehan nervously looked at the exasperated judge, unsure of how to handle such a situation. Usually when he was angry, Jehan could easily tune his brother's droning lectures out. A drunk Claude Frollo, however, was not something that he was entirely familiar with.

Pulling the wine bottle away from the judge, Jehan calmly said, "I think you're done drinking."

Frollo snapped his attention back at the blond boy with an enraged expression, startling him bit. "You don't have the slightest idea of what I have been through, do you?" Frollo hissed, his silver eyes burning with drunken fire. "You have no problem wreaking havoc to your heart's content, never a thought for the consequences of such actions, or even its impact on me!"

Jehan glanced over his shoulder, somewhat thankful that the other tavern patrons were lost in their own intoxicated worlds and not listening to the nearby Minister of Justice's rant. Suddenly Jehan felt his brother's rigid fingers clasp around his thin arm, pulling him closer.

Jehan was taken aback by the psychotic look on Claude's face: his bared teeth and murderous scowl suddenly made the boy fear that his brother might be the Devil himself.

"Do you remember when you were five and you scaled up that oak tree?" Frollo breathed heavily. "Remember how you screamed for me to climb up there and rescue you? And when I finally reached the top…you were already on the ground, calling out for me to come down and follow you?"

The young man tried in vain to tear his brother's fingers from his arm. "Claude, be reasonable! I was only a child, and-"

"And when I tried to climb down I fell and damn near broke my neck!" Frollo tightened his grip on Jehan, certain that his arm would look like a bruised peach. "Remember how you laughed and clapped as I lay there on the ground? Blood pouring from my nose and my shoulder dislocated? But it was all in good fun, now wasn't it?!" Without warning, Frollo swung Jehan around and violently shoved him to the floor, mead soaking him all over and attracting the attention of a few other patrons. But the bloodthirsty face of the judge instantly reminded them not to intervene and go about their own business.

Jehan scrambled to his feet, wiping away the beer off his face. "So what then?" he asked bitterly as his brother slumped back down at the bar, blankly looking down at a stupefied Jehan. "You're just going to take out all your anger on me for the things I did as a child?"

Frollo turned away without another word, nervously running his fingers through his gray hair. Unsurprisingly, he reached for another helping of wine, all the while he trembled with drunken fury.

Shaking the beer out of his golden curls, Jehan sat back down and said, "I don't understand why you came here—you're even more of a bastard when you're sloshed to the gills!"

Sitting hunched over at the bar, Frollo barely glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye. "Then enlighten me, little brother: why do you feel the need to drink more than needed?"

The boy shrugged carelessly, smirking impishly. "It makes things more lively. At least when I drink, people enjoy themselves; you aren't the fun kind of drunk. You're about as much fun drunk as a day of leeching!"

Frollo looked at his brother with tired eyes. Lowly, he then said, "For once, your half-witted drivel actually makes sense. I'm impressed, Jehan."

Taking a seat again, Jehan replied, "Thanks, brother. Now can we just have our drinks? And promise that you won't get violent again."

Frollo raised his eyebrows at him. "I'm afraid I cannot make that promise...and I'm not paying for you," he nonchalantly reminded him, pouring another glass.

"Well, you did give me the money, so technically you are paying," Jehan rebutted, tossing his coin purse before him just to slight his brother.

Scoffing, Frollo replied, "Then at least control your intake. The last thing I need is you completely inebriated running amuck in the streets."

X

"What…what did you mean by "divine intervention"?" Jehan slurred after chugging down yet another pint of mead. After spending what seemed like an eternity rambling on about his misadventures with Robin Poussepain (the Minister hardly paying any attention at all), Jehan remembered his brother's earlier statement.

"Divine intervention?" Frollo himself, though not as loosened up as Jehan, could feel the alcohol's effects manifesting even more strongly with the time he had been lingering at this tavern. His head was already starting to feel heavy as the night went on.

"You…you told me that you got stuck with Quasimodo because of it, remember?" the younger one said, his face a bright red and eyes unfocused.

Numbed by the wine, Frollo fuzzily tried to think of an answer. Too intoxicated to recount the earlier discussion, the judge uncaringly shrugged.

Limply grabbing Claude's shoulder, Jehan garbled out, "You know, I've always wondered that. Why…how did you even end up with him anyway? I…I just never understood that."

The judge's drunken mind flashed back to that dreadful night when it happened, groaning irritably at the memories. In any state of mind, he would have been able to divert Jehan's attention away from the subject with another topic; however, alcohol proves to be the enemy of discretion.

"The only thing I was trying to accomplish was expelling those who trespassed against the law," his low voice rumbled. "One moment, I am about to dispose of the evidence from the incident, and in the next…I am being mandated to raise a miniature demon! I was only doing what my duty commands of me: to keep Paris in order! But apparently requiring me to take the boy in as my own is a part of His plan." Smirking darkly, Frollo then laughed humorlessly, his brother trying to make sense of his words.

Jehan could not help but laugh as well, too drunk to even care if nothing was even funny. "What…what were you going to do? Kill him? Were you going to kill Quasimodo?" he slurred.

Suddenly, Frollo slammed his glass against the countertop harshly, Jehan jumping a bit at this. He menacingly hissed, "I swear it was justified!" Manic ferocity filled his eyes again as he continued. "And if I had done so, I could have gone the rest of my days without having to ask the Lord of whether this was the only way to atone for what happened!"

Jehan listened to his brother's words half-interested, considering he was too wrecked to care for what the judge was saying. That, and Claude's bouts of acrimony were taking some of the enjoyment out of drinking.

Doltishly smiling, Jehan heartily clapped his brother on the shoulder. "I don't know how you do it, but somehow you can do it!"

"Do what?" Frollo was prepared for more of Jehan's stupid, intoxicated questions, growing ever more annoyed as always.

"You have to take care of Quasi and take care of the city—it's a mess! But somehow, you can always do it!"

Frollo's eyes widened at his brother's statement; convinced only by the fact that since he was drunk, Jehan's statement of reverence seemed genuine.

"Claude," Jehan said slowly, trying to sound sober and collected. "I don't know if I've ever told you this, but I admire what you do, and I'm proud to call you my brother!"

Even the drunken Minister could not help but smile a little at Jehan's sentiment. It wasn't every day that he heard such respect from his brother.

"And, Hell!" Jehan continued, raising his glass. "You're a great father too! We…we should go and see Quasimodo right now! Weren't you supposed to earlier?"

Frollo quickly looked behind him out through a grime covered window across the tavern, finding the city was already painted in darkness.

How long have we been here?! He inwardly screamed as he shakily got to his feet, picking up his hat and squashing it flat against his head.

"How could I have forgotten?!" he questioned aloud in exasperation, fishing out money from the coinpurse at his side. "I have been idling about, drinking like some peasant with the likes of you when I have tasks at hand!" Tossing the coins to the countertop and adjusting his hat, he unsteadily made his way towards the front door, knees almost buckling and drawing the attention of some nearby patrons.

"I'm right behind you!" Jehan slurred as he stumbled after the judge.

Frollo wobbled gracelessly out into the dark streets, Jehan in tow as the Minister of Justice headed towards his restless black horse. Romulus stamped his hooves, relieved to see his returning master. While the judge untied the reins from the post, the horse whinnied reluctantly at the master's lax clasp, as though sensing that something was amiss.

"You're not going to actually attempt to ride that thing, are you?" Jehan asked, about to break out into a fit of laughter.

Leading the stubborn horse away from the tavern, Frollo leered at his brother. "What kind of fool do you take me for? Of course I'm not going to ride him now!"

"Good. I know you can ride, but…who are we kidding? Even you can't ride when you're drunk!"

Frollo scoffed and patted the nervous horse gently on the side before leading it down the cobblestone street, Jehan following.

"Wait, wait…where are we going again, Claude?" Jehan then asked, nearly tripping over himself.

"To Notre Dame, you twit!"

The young man limply took Frollo's arm. "Come on! How about we take a trip to the Rue de Glatigny and see what lovely goddesses we can find tonight? I'm sure my Isabeau can find you a nice catch! Carpe noctem!"

"Why? So you can humiliate me again?!" he snarled fervidly, hands tightening on the reins as he pulled Romulus down the street and pushing his brother away. "Not on your life! We are going to the church now!"

With his unsteady gait and unfocused eyes, Frollo easily resembled the many vagrants that he had arrested rather than his usual authoritative self. However, it seemed that Jehan had more difficulty walking through the streets of Paris. Romulus nudged his head against his master's shoulder distrustfully, as though knowing that he was inebriated and out of his element. Although Frollo could hold his poison, it had been years since he had set foot in a seedy tavern to have a drink. At least when he drank himself sick, it was in the comfort of his own home, away from what might be unwanted attention.

Perhaps this was a mistake, he inwardly rationalized as he continued down the path towards the cathedral. Walking on unsteady legs, he roughly pulled the reins of his horse.

"I swear, Jehan," the Minister drawled. "If you lead me to anything like a brothel…" Clumsily retrieving the knife at his side, Frollo pointed it at his brother threateningly. "I swear on all that is good, I will slit your throat without another thought!"

Putting up his hands in defense, Jehan smirked with drunken condescension at his brother. "Do…don't worry, I won't. You really need to relax, you know that?" he slurred. "I…I told you we were going to the church and…and that's where we're going! So come on!" Just then Jehan attempted to make haste, only succeeding in tripping over himself and tumbling forward onto the pavement.

Pulling Romulus past the scrambling young man, Frollo shook his head and remarked, "You see what drinking does to you, Jehan? You can barely even walk! Obviously you cannot handle it in such copious amounts."

Finally standing up, Jehan waved his hand nonchalantly as he followed his brother. "Please. You're…you're just as drunk as me. That's why you can't even ride your own damn horse to the church!"

Harshly stopping in his tracks and swaying a bit, Frollo shot an icy glare at the young man. "I'm perfectly capable and I could if I wanted to, I…I just…" Turning his attention back down the street, he could see the towers of the imposing church in the distance, even standing out against the indigo colored night sky. "Church is that way. Follow me," Frollo slurred as staggered forward, lurching Romulus along.

The Minister barely registered the eyes of the few creatures of the night that loitered the streets, gambling, drinking, fighting, or paying for other sinful activities. Vagrants, he thought cynically as they studied him, confused at seeing such a man like the Minister of Justice wobbling about in the streets after dark.

It felt like it had taken a hundred years to reach the town square, the cathedral right across the way. Suddenly it seemed more gargantuan than usual—titan-esque and prepared to strike down any opposers. Frollo was momentarily left in awe as he took in such a sight in his intoxicated state.

Lazily patting Romulus on the shoulder, Frollo harshly pulled him through the square with Jehan following behind.

"Wait, wait," Jehan mumbled. "Why did we come here again?"

"I am to see the hunchback…I must every day," Frollo replied and pointing upward, eyes directing towards the bell tower.

Jehan stopped for a moment and craned his neck back to stare up at the imposing structure, gaping spellbound at it. "Claude, Claude...when did they build this place?"

Ordinarily, Frollo could remember names and dates like a human record book. But right now he could not focus on anything else other than his drunken agenda.

"I don't know—I wasn't there!" he snapped bitterly, his horse throwing back his head in response of his master's outburst.

Reaching the steps, Jehan climbed them to the wooden doors while the Minister fumbled at trying to tie the horse to one of the posts nearby.

Menial task, Frollo inwardly cursed as he struggled to properly secure the reins, Romulus nudging him in the shoulder with his snout. This is for uneducated plebs, not myself.

He barely heard Jehan's weak attempts to push the doors open. Turning around, Frollo smirked as he saw his little brother run and slam his shoulder against the heavy door, hoping it would miraculously open. Knees buckling and gripping his shoulder, Jehan looked up at his brother. "I don't think anyone's home," he drawled as he struggled to regain his balance.

The Minister himself tried to push the door open before slamming his fists against it. "Of course somebody's here—you can't leave a church unattended, you dolt! Some…someone will answer it." Frollo leaned heavily against one of the doors, trying to collect himself.

"What's the Archdeacon going to say when he sees that you're completely sloshed?" Jehan teased.

Sloppily adjusting his skewed hat and trying to keep his expression stern, Frollo replied, "I'm completely fine. I'm not the one falling over himself like the drunken fool he is!"

Jehan gave a crooked smile, as though proud of such an accusation. Suddenly the sound of one of the doors creaking open roused both of their attentions.

Through the crack open, the Archdeacon's wary face peeked out before opening the door to fully face the Minister of Justice.

"Frollo? What are you doing here at this late hour?" he asked severely.

Pushing past the man and staggering unbecomingly into the nave, Frollo answered, "I am here to see the boy." Jehan wobbled forth after him, stupidly looking around the dim interior. Father Augustin's mouth hung agape in shock at the brothers' behaviors.

"Have you two been drinking all night?!" Augustin whispered loudly to prevent their conversation from echoing.

"Just a little," Jehan piped up, swaying back and forth before leaning against his brother.

Augustin narrowed his tired eyes at Frollo who tried to appear sober, shoving Jehan away from him. Of all the mistakes he had known the judge to have made, this was by far the most senseless.

"Claude, what on earth would possess you to do something so asinine? Quasimodo inquired your whereabouts today and I figured that you might have been stuck with more work at the Palace of Justice—not out doing something so immature!"

The Minister scoffed. "Compose yourself, old man. I'm here now, am I not?"

Running a tense hand over his face in annoyance, the Archdeacon glared at the drunken Minister. "I cannot believe you. Leave now and return to the Palace of Justice!"

Frollo's expression turned into an intense scowl at such a challenge. "Am I or am I not the hunchback's guardian? Did you not entrust me to keep the boy as my own?! All you have done is badger me over how to raise him when I should not have to!"

The Archdeacon and Jehan looked alarmed at Frollo's sudden change in attitude, unsure of where he was headed in this exchange.

"I refuse to have you guiding me like some ignorant child!" he growled, face showing the same rabid ferocity as earlier. "Since you think me inadequate of caring for him myself, allow me to remedy that."

Frollo suddenly reached again for his dagger, the other men's eyes widening instantly. Turning quickly on his heels, the judge heavily strode forward in the direction of the stairwell.

I am going to finish what I started, he thought maliciously, eyes locked on the stairs as he felt his being shaking with bloodlust. How many times he had imagined life without being bound to the child, he had lost track. All Frollo wanted to do was end it... once and for all.

Without warning, he felt a pair of hands tightly grip his arm, instantly fighting to push them away, not caring who he injured as he flailed the weapon around carelessly.

"Unhand me at once!" he snarled when he felt his other arm be restrained.

"Claude, you're not well!" Augustin protested as Frollo attempted to break free of their grasp, fighting with every bit of energy he had.

"I'm going to do what I should have done that night!" he thundered, hoping that the dagger's blade would find its way to one of the two.

"Calm down!" Jehan pleaded as his brother violently tried to push him away.

"Go to hell, Jehan!" Frollo's eyes were fire and brimstone as he shoved him hard with his elbow.

Jehan then released him before narrowing his half-unfocused eyes at him. "Sorry about this, Claude."

In that instant, the enraged Minister turned to see his brother raise his fist before feeling a quick blow the side of his head, his vision then turning black.

x

*A/n: It's been awhile, hasn't it? Writer's block is the worst and it literally took me over a month to finally write this chapter. I thank my readers for their support and understanding over the last chapter, which probably wasn't my best.

I'm sure after this, Frollo is going to have a pretty bad day and never want to drink with Jehan again. Frollo and alcohol don't exactly mix, huh?

Well, let me know what you think!

P.s. you should read "Alabaster and Creme" by GoneVintage! And Happy Halloween y'all!