Flashbacks (in chronological order)

by ManyWords24

All the flashbacks from my story "The Fire That Made Him", in chronological order. Major spoilers if you haven't already read that story! This isn't any content new to the series, but I really wanted to make the flashbacks easy to read in order, so here's the result! TW for violence and abuse.

7. Flashback 7

Flashback 7: Claude

The high stone walls were impressive. Frollo grinned with approval at the structure. Here it was: His dream fulfilled.

"Minister Frollo," A butler greeted. "It is an honor to welcome you to the Palace of Justice!"

"It's about time." Frollo said with pride.

He'd long waited for the day when the title of Minister of Justice would be his. Frollo was pleased.

The butler introduced him to the rest of the staff and showed him around the palace. Frollo basked in the glory of it. This was excellent, and he deserved it.

"This is splendid." Frollo said at the end of the tour. "I think I shall be quite comfortable."

"I hope so, your honor." The butler said with a smile. "But I cannot help noticing, you're rather... Alone."

Frollo lost his grin.

"What do you mean by that?" He questioned.

"Well, I assumed you had a wife. And children, perhaps."

Frollo always dreaded this conversation. He often had to give an explanation for why he wasn't married. Having a family was the norm for someone of his age. And since he was a man of status, there was no believable reason that he shouldn't be able to find a wife. Therefore, people often questioned why Frollo was single. He hated that.

"I'm not interested in marriage." He insisted. "I'm only interested in serving God."

"You're not a priest." The butler reminded. "No one expects you to be celibate."

"Nevertheless, I am." Frollo said firmly.

The butler looked at him with confusion, but took the message coming from his tone.

"...I see. That is a noble choice, indeed."

Frollo yearned to get himself alone, so he started toward his bedroom.

"Fetch me a bottle of wine." He instructed.

"What kind?" The butler asked.

"Any wine will do." Frollo replied.

He wasn't particular right now. He just wanted to drink.

Later, that bottle lay empty on the floor, and Frollo lay drunk in bed. He found himself wishing that he wasn't in that bed alone. Although Frollo had long ago resigned himself to celibacy, he hadn't accounted for the fact that drinking too much impaired his ability to pretend that he didn't want a wife. He imagined that he wasn't alone, fantasizing about the touch of a woman, and about being loved.

But that was impossible. No one loved him. Love was meant for other people. Not for Claude Frollo.