When the Minister awoke the next morning, his mind was instantly addled with the memory of last night's outburst. All he could see was the terrified expression on Esmeralda's face during their altercation. The sharp sound of wood splitting as that fine wooden chair met the chamber wall still pierced his ears.
He tiredly covered his eyes with his hand as he attempted to wrap his mind around the incident. A collected man usually, Frollo realized that he become increasingly impulsive and prone to these bouts of mania ever since the gypsy girl entered his life. He thought about Quasimodo's look of horror as his former master went into a blind rage upon revealing knowing about the hunchback's assistance in helping her escape Notre Dame. How easily he swept away the boy's wooden model of the city to mere fragments of its former glory as his fury erupted like Vesuvius.
Why did she hold such influence over him? Doubt, chaos, fear, weakness—everything he abhorred was eating at the Minister like some rabid animal. A mere girl was succeeding in undoing him even though she was but a prisoner under his watch.
"…And I told you I will fight you with every fiber of my being!" Esmeralda's voice rang as the judge pictured her ready for a fight, no matter the consequences. And what had he promised her? That even after all he had done for her as part of their agreement, he could still make her despise him even further—if that were possible.
At this rate, you will make little to no progress in making her yield to you, he chided himself, turning his head and seeing the outline of the cathedral through his chambers' curtains. As much as he would love to march into her room and take her against her will—remind her who is in control—he instantly shook his head at the thought. You could though, he forebodingly reasoned. If there was anything he learned from his father, it was that his class was entitled to take what was desired from her kind.
But that wasn't how he wanted to take her. You will have your chance, but you must be patient, his inner voice nagged.
Reluctantly the Minister lifted himself out of bed, smoothing back his silver hair and rolling his neck from side to side. Deciding that there would be plenty of time to weigh his options, Frollo dressed himself to jump headfirst into the day's work.
X
Esmeralda was left mostly to her own accord, leaving the gypsy alone with her troubled thoughts. As soon as she woke up, her mind replayed the moment of the judge's explosiveness, his booming voice echoing in her mind as she lay in the large bed.
Despite her purported fearlessness, Esmeralda couldn't help but feel genuinely afraid of Frollo's wrath. The blazing lunacy in his expression and violent lack of control set her teeth on edge. Clopin's golden rule offered her some comfort: "Never stop fighting—do what you must to survive. He's a bastard anyway!"
Even she had to admit that the prospect of survival might prove difficult if she and the Minister kept butting heads. She could still hear the words of the Archdeacon: "It would be unwise to arouse Frollo's anger further." And how well she had followed that sage advice, she mulled while looking back at the pile of broken wood in the corner.
Staring up at the blank ceiling while the afternoon sun peered into her window, Esmeralda pondered it for a moment. In the time they had known each other, all she and Frollo had done was lock horns, despite the danger he posed. But it was near impossible not to argue with that man given the situation, especially since they seemed to match each other in their impassioned words. Maybe, she thought dismally. It's not the smartest thing to play with fire—especially when that fire can grow into an inferno at any given moment.
She studied her prison again and sighed miserably, exasperatedly sliding her hands over her face. All she really found she could look forward to was another day of boredom.
Unfortunately, she was correct. The rest of the day crept on dreadfully slow, the only thing to break the monotony being the delivery of food by the Palace's staff, albeit wordlessly. They even remained silent when replacing the broken chair with a pristine new one.
Esmeralda's lip curled when she opened up a package handed to her by one of the servants, finding a striking green dress inside. She felt like some kind of toy to be dressed up and put away, only to be gazed upon and played with at her captor's will. The restrictive shape instantly made her yearn for the tattered prison shift again.
All Esmeralda could do was rotate her spot from the bed to the window and back again. After a few hours of agonizing tedium, she couldn't help it anymore. She restlessly tore herself from the table and looked around the room, trying to find something—anything—of interest.
Instinctively, she shuffled towards the first wooden dresser lined up against the wall. Opening up the drawer, she pouted her lip upon predictably finding some leather-bound book inside. Not much use here, she inwardly damned—much like other gypsies, it wasn't commonplace for her people to possess literacy. And Paris's citizens weren't eager to teach them either.
Esmeralda inspected the small book in her hand before placing it back and turning to the next drawer. She pulled it open, dismayed to find yet another ancient book stored inside. Picking up the manuscript she disappointedly thought, Nothing of interest here.
Before she could shove the book back in its proper place, her eyes caught something hidden in the back of the drawer. Setting it aside, Esmeralda reached far back into the furniture piece's depth.
She found an aged leather purse with its strings drawn together tightly, something bouncing around inside. "What in the hell…?" she muttered under her breath, holding the object in hand. Pulling the strings apart, she instantly dug her hand into the purse, feeling something round inside. In her hand she beheld a small, smooth stone with a hole perfectly bore into it with a flimsy cord tied through it.
A gypsy amulet? she wondered, studying the handmade necklace. She had seen countless ones just like these—witch stones, adder stones, hag stones, various names but all the same—carried by gypsies for protection. Why would Frollo have this up here?
Without warning, Esmeralda heard the jingling of keys before one began turning in the lock, prompting her to quickly close the dresser drawer and rush back towards the bed, hiding the necklace under one of the pillows.
"I think that we might have gotten off on the wrong foot," the Minister drawled as he entered the gypsy's chamber. In one hand, he had a small leather pouch. "For you," he said, tossing it towards Esmeralda.
She looked inside and was surprised to find her earring, anklet, and bracelets that had been confiscated after her arrest. Her green eyes widened that he hadn't simply discarded them like common gypsy garbage. "I thought they tossed these since prisoners can't have jewelry," she noted, inspecting the accessories.
"I made an exception," Frollo simply answered, seeing the wariness on her expression.
"Um…thank you," her voice was soft, still shocked by this unexpected gesture. Slipping the bracelets back on their respective wrists she asked, "Now what was that about getting off on the wrong foot?"
"It has come to my attention that I might have been too hasty in declining an offer to make this situation more bearable for the both of us," he expressed as he breezed past her. Looking out at the Parisian sky outside, Frollo fought to keep himself more reserved today, as to avoid another episode such as yesterday. "You raise a fair point in that amicability requires trust, and what kind of man would I be if I did not humor you in allowing you to prove yourself trustworthy?"
Esmeralda cocked an eyebrow at him in suspicion. She was so close to obtaining a small piece of freedom—she just needed to play her cards right. Carefully, she asked, "What would you have me do?"
Frollo smiled coldly as he turned back toward her. "You are like me, Esmeralda: you like a challenge. So I will offer you a little contest of sorts. I know how inclined you are to do so, but if you can stay out of trouble for a week, I might consider granting you a tad more freedom."
"And you'll let me leave?"
"Out of the question. I know your kind cannot be confined for long before the madness takes you, so if you can prove that you are not as deceitful as the rest of your race, I may allow you to venture back outside once more. But keep in mind that this is not a pardon, but a privilege. And if you attempt to make an escape after I grant you that, every gypsy in Paris will dead before the day is done." His voice took a new warning tone as he continued to leer at her.
Esmeralda rationalized this offer: either defy him again and never hope to leave this stifling room, or play along and live to see the outside once more. Maybe he'll let you see Clopin, and Quasi, and even Phoebus again, she thought with a glimmer of hope.
"The choice is yours, gypsy," Frollo taunted, waving a hand. "Although you are more than welcome to stay in here, if you find that more preferable."
"If I go along with this little game for yours, what happens if you find me in violation of these rules?"
"Then I will ensure that you never leave this room, and you never hear so much as a peep from those comrades of yours."
Esmeralda bit her tongue of any bitter retort, not wanting to let this opportunity slip through her fingers so easily. "One week?" she tested, stepping closer to him and studying his stone-like face beaming a knowing grin.
"One week. Do not steal, do not attempt to escape, and do not try my patience. Prove to me that a gypsy sorceress of all people can be trusted."
"And will you allow me to at least leave this room?" Esmeralda would not show how desperate she was to get out of this small prison.
"Of course." Frollo's malicious smile indicated that he did not believe that she had the willpower to endure this offer. He was confident that she would break, give him reason to punish her even more—perhaps ease his shrinking sanity.
Esmeralda nodded, green eyes staring deep into his in defiance. "Challenge accepted," she huskily replied, a mischievous smirk on her lips.
Frollo remained stoic, but inside he found himself thrilled at her eagerness to rise to his proposal. Oh, she can try, he thought. But he would not bow to her…at least, that's what he reminded himself. Given her rebellious nature, it was only a matter of time before she found herself in hot water once more. And once she did, he could easily regain his sense of control as he kept her prisoner in this room for the rest of her days. But let her try, he mentally jested, studying her pensive expression. He likened this situation to a cat patting at a ball of string.
Esmeralda, on the other hand, instantly pictured the little witch stone charm she found but minutes ago, finding it ironic that she had broken rule just before being told so. She definitely would not tell him of what she found, instead deciding that in due time she would learn more about her mysterious captor.
"Consider this an act of good will," Frollo prodded, almost playfully. He nodded towards the door, beckoning for her to follow him. Esmeralda, of course, was wary to do so, unsure of his true intentions. Nevertheless, she followed him out to the hallways, inwardly thanking someone above to finally be out of that room.
"Now," the Minister began sternly. "My study is located on the third floor, and I suppose it goes without saying that you do not have access to it. Most of the rooms in the Palace are vacant or locked, though I'm positive that you will find some way to disturb the balance of my home—see that you don't."
"Anywhere else you'd like me to avoid?" she quipped, casting a teasing smirk at him.
"Besides my office, stay away from my chambers—which will remain locked—as well as the dungeons and courtyards. I highly doubt you have any experience with horses, so it would be wise for you to keep your distance from the stables."
"And everywhere else is fair game?"
"As long as you do not hinder my work, or that of my employees, yes," he answered. "I have nothing to hide, and you have my agreed upon terms. Stay out of trouble, and you perhaps I might learn to trust you as I have said, as gradual as that might be."
It suddenly occurred to Esmeralda: if she were to play his game in exchange for a few minimal freedoms, why should she not try and get something else out of him? She was beginning to see him bend to her—he was rather quick to go back on his words regarding trust merely a day later. It's worth a shot, she mentally pointed.
Ignoring the smug grin on his careworn face, Esmeralda said, "I want to add another term to this challenge."
The Minister instantly frowned, which unnerved the gypsy somewhat. "I have been more than charitable in already allowing you to partake in this—I hardly think you have any right to demand more of me." He folded his hands together as he tried to maintain his patience.
"It's nothing outlandish," she evenly countered, raising a hand that begged him to remain calm. "But if I complete this and I earn your trust…I want you to tell me about my friends—keep me in the know of how they're doing since this little…endeavor. That's all I ask, Frollo. Please."
The judge considered it. He didn't want this girl to dig her hooks into him too deeply now. But given how sure he was that he could charge her with losing their challenge, what was the harm in simply giving her notice on her loved ones? After all, he noticed how broken she was upon learning of Quasimodo's emptiness since his friend was taken. He needed to maintain that very control.
Cocking an eyebrow at the woman, Frollo smoothly said, "I suppose I can have a few of my men check in on your brethren's condition, but I cannot promise the news will be auspicious, especially with all the mayhem you've caused."
Hypocritical bastard, Esmeralda cursed inwardly, trying to ignore his swipe. It pained her to be cordial as she calmly replied, "That's all I ask. And I've already said I'd stay out of trouble for the week. So should we get started?"
Frollo was impressed by her restraint, no matter how much he saw she wanted to verbally rip into him. "Very well." He gave a hollow chuckle before rumbling, "Let the game begin."
X
*A/n: Two years later and here you go! Kinda short but I know, but this story was collecting cobwebs, so I'm sorry about the wait. Thanks to everyone who continued reading and left reviews in hopes of the new chapter! This story isn't abandoned yet! I'm trying to finish my prequel-"Little Boy Frollo"-so it comes full circle with this one. Later down the line there will be a lot of references to that story so I gotta polish the last few chapters of it.
And just a little PSA: if you haven't checked out "A Courageous Heart" by writerbug85, I highly recommend!
Thanks for reading, R/R!