Or Else Let Her Be Mine And Mine Alone

Conspiracy

Somebody else was in awe of their beloved too. The bell-ringer of Notre-Dame was in the chamber of his adored bell, Jacqueline, caressing it. The bells were his refuge, his abode. Quasimodo truly did not know what he'd do if not for the cathedral. She was his mother. And a mother's love was always available for her child; even when the father's was not.

His master came to visit him less nowadays, which was a concern to him. Not just because of the effort it took to save food. His master was the only source from which he could gather knowledge about Esmeralda. Despite what she had told him, Quasimodo was skeptical that Esmeralda was in fact well. With how scared she had been of Frollo at her time in the cathedral, he doubted if she would ever be well.

For as long as he could remember, Frollo had warned him from the perils of women. They were, he had taught, carriers of the mortal sin, and their beauty was a trap set by God- a façade that hid nothing but venom underneath. In case of heathens like Esmeralda, her beauty was a trap set by Satan. Her very purpose on Earth was to tempt pious men and divert them from the path of holiness. Women were inherently dangerous, but she was the most dangerous of them all: a witch who lured men to the burning abyss.

He, of course, bought little of it. Despite his loyalty to his master that very well exceeded a dog's, Quasimodo believed none of what he said about Esmeralda. She was beautiful as an angel, not a witch. She was tender and gentle and pure. Just like the cathedral.

That was why he was concerned for her. If she was in any way being hurt by his master, then he would...well, what could he do. He knew that he couldn't hurt his master. He had been the only one kind enough to take him in as an infant. He could jump off the tower in guilt, but that would be of little help to the girl.

'How selfish of me to think that,' he told Jacqueline. 'Die while she lives miserably. If she is suffering, I must live and suffer too.'

His master broke up the moment. 'Again talking to the bells?'

The boy turned around. Frollo placed a basket of fruit on the table, waiting for his adopted son to join.

'I did not expect you to be here,' said Quasimodo. 'It has been some days.'

'It has. The next few weeks too will be quite busy.'

He pulled his chair. 'How are things going for you, master?'

'Oh, very well,' the man replied genuinely. 'I have accomplished a breakthrough in my research, and the Duke of Austria is to arrive, which will bring an end to the Burgundian situation.'

'And for her?'

Frollo smiled to himself. 'She is good. Still adjusting to the ways of a Palace, but we have begun to get along.'

Quasimodo's good eye widened. Not that he had any reason to believe what he was saying, but the reaction was unexpected.

'She has become quite curious about my work and knowledge. I do not blame her- how many Egyptians are educated, let alone intellectuals? There is still a lot for her to learn, but I am sure she will try.' He picked up a berry and smirked. 'I assume that this was not what you were expecting.'

'No. I mean-,'

'You must remember,' he interrupted. 'that she is like a mother to you. You must think of her as such.'

Quasimodo's face contorted involuntarily.

'The sin of lechery is a grave one. And for you, I doubt if you are even capable of touching her without giving her some disease.'

'I do not want to, master,' he immediately denied. 'I am just worried.'

'She is not of your concern, boy,' he said, getting up from his chair. 'She is under my safety. I am her master too. It would be better of you to let go of such trivial matters and focus on your work.'