Warning- SA in the last few paragraphs. Not graphic but there is some bad suspense.
Distressing ideas about virginity, fatalism and manipulation. Reminder that the pov is a narcissistic pervert.
For a minute both men stared blankly at her.
The torturer tried to break the silence. 'I'm sure that no one will take this as...'
'Isn't this sacrilege? Or does the law only apply to gypsies?'
'Esmeralda!' Frollo scolded. 'Master Jacques and I have put our lives into this. We are still pious Catholics. I'm just using the pagans' immoral knowledge for a moral cause.'
'Ruling the world?'
'So what? Did anyone else come up with this process? No, they did not. It is my achievement. I hold every right to use it how I wish to. Possessing such knowledge is no less than being God himself. It means that God has considered me worthy of it. If anyone questions my actions, he is but questioning God's decision, and preventing the hand of fate from running its course.'
Esmeralda looked at him with glazed eyes. The man was insane; there was no doubt to it.
'Madame,' Charmolue explained, 'the King knows of our plans. In fact, he encourages us to develop them. You need not worry.'
'And you need not tell,' warned Frollo. 'Or, you may keep in mind that you are still convicted.'
Definitely. She nodded furiously.
'Ease up, sir,' Charmolue intervened. 'Her fears are understandable. Even heathens are apprehensive of such power.'
The minister examined the gold coin. 'It is a great responsibility. I will study it further. Till then, we must hide this discovery. I suggest you to leave me alone for now.'
The proctor bowed, leaving for the door. Not knowing what to do, Esmeralda followed him.
'Esmeralda. Where were you?' she heard behind her.
'I had just gone to see my mother,' she answered hastily.
'And?'
'That was it. I'm sorry for not informing, but I didn't want to disturb you.'
'I'm never too busy for you,' he said, and despite his face being turned away from her, she could sense him smirking.
"Oh God, not now."
'Come near me, my joy- '
She cut the sound short by closing the door behind her. Then ran upstairs.
--
She ran till she arrived at the nearest room. Coming upon Charmolue talking to a servant, she stopped and stood silently. Unfortunately the proctor turned around.
'Oh! My apologies. I didn't notice you.'
She stayed as close to the wall as possible. 'I didn't want you to.'
Charmolue smiled weakly. 'I know that you will probably never forgive me. I can't put the blame on you either.'
His gaze dropped as he gave a sigh. Esmeralda tried to study his demeanor. Was he really regretful? She still remembered the day of her trial, how casually he had demanded her torture, displayed her tambourine and declared her a witch for doing simple tricks.
'Thank heavens that you weren't executed. I don't have innocent blood on me.'
"Considering your system, I highly suspect you do."
'What happened to your goat, if I may ask? Djali, wasn't it?'
Her face got stern. 'You didn't show much concern for her when you proclaimed her the devil and made her get the death sentence.'
When he didn't reply, she huffed. 'If you really want to know about it, I just tell you that someone I trusted stole her with depraved intentions', she said gloomily.
'What, that is horrible!' the proctor said, appalled.
Realization hit her. In a way, Djali and she had received the same fate. Hopefully Gringoire was kinder to the poor creature, if that was even possible.
Charmolue was watching her looking pensively.
'I'm sorry for what happened, but we can make it right. If you don't mind it, what did you see that night? You were in front of the captain, so you would've had the best look of the assailant.'
She turned at him coldly. Oh, how she wanted to scream the truth in his face, see his expression on hearing that the culprit he is so hung up on is in fact his beloved Monseigneur Frollo. But she knew better. The royal torturer was a great position, but nothing compared to the Minister of Justice. After all, her sense of wonder about the world being tarnished didn't mean that she would do the same to others.
'I'm afraid that he was wearing a cloak. I have already told you this.'
'But we weren't taking you seriously then.'
'That is your fault! Now you come to seek my help-'
'I request you. Minister Frollo may not consider this important, but I do. Didn't you say something like a goblin was following you? Do you remember what he looked like?'
Before she could reply, a cold hand made its place on her shoulder, making the hair on her neck stand up.
'I see my two most cherished people are having a conversation,' Frollo jested, giving her shoulder a little squeeze.
Charmolue smiled. 'I was just about to leave and thought of exchanging a few words with madame. Given how frequently I intrude the peace of this house, it's wise to be on good terms with its lady. I hope your research is going well.'
'Very well indeed, Jacques. Although I reiterate, it will take time.'
'Feel free to take all the time. I won't disturb you anymore today.' He took off his cap in respect and left for the gate.
Frollo's hand was still gripping her shoulder. 'I think you know better than to say anything unwanted.'
'I didn't say anything.'
He hummed in the affirmative, loosening his grip. But then his finger began to travel to other parts of her. It landed on the border of her neckline when she stepped away.
'I am going for a walk.'
He pushed her against the wall, inching his face closer to hers. 'No you aren't. You aren't going anywhere without my permission from now on, little sorceress.'
'You can't imprison me. I'm not Quasimodo.'
A brief flash of anger passed his eyes at the bell-ringer's name. 'But I am your master. And a slave sees that every requirement of his master is met satisfactorily.'
Her body twisted against him. From the corner of her eye, she saw someone enter the room. It didn't matter who, it was someone. It was Marie, walking carefree with a happy face. 'Madame! I wanted to tell you- '
Frollo turned his head around, the man still not letting go of his hand pinning the girl to the wall.
The maid almost lost the balance of her feet. 'Y-your honor. I beg your pardon.'
'Does it suit you to invade your employer's private moments?' he hissed.
'Forgive me. I just wanted to say that the dinner is getting served.'
'Go away. You can wait for fifteen minutes.'
She bowed and made her way out, but was stopped by Esmeralda. 'No, wait! Me and Marie have to see to something.'
He frowned. 'See to what?'
She measured her words, 'You see, the servants have to make some adjustments in setting the food, and as the mistress of the house, it is my duty to assist them. It's a womanly affair.' She forced her lips to smile, knowing Frollo's...ideas about women and their affairs very well.
'You can do it later. It's not like they needed help all this time.'
'We won't find time to do it later, will we Marie?' she looked at the maid with pleading eyes. Marie agreed, 'It's true, sir.'
Esmeralda tried to muster all her energy into looking adorably at Frollo. 'We will have our time after dinner too.'
The judge stared her. She gazed in his eyes, hoping against hope.
'Alright. After eating, wait for me in my chambers.'
Her eyes gave up the smile, but not her lips. 'Certainly.'
Without saying more he returned downstairs.
The trouble didn't achieve much. She would anyway have to go to him after a few hours. But it still gave relief, no matter for how little time. Apart from that, she had a feeling that even if he did have her now, he would probably do it again at night. Perhaps once was better than twice?
'Thank you,' she said to Marie.
'There's no need,' replied the maid. 'We still have to serve. Would you like to help?'
'Of course. I would love to.' Anything that increased the distance between her and Frollo was a desirable proposition.
--
Unfortunately the girl had little experience or knowledge about palace domestic duties. Her small room in the Court of Miracles was easy. This was way more refined.
So she idly waited on the table for Frollo while the servants moved around, setting-up things. The sheer amount of people attending to what was one person till now was amazing. Even the task of filling wine-glasses or putting the tablecloth was a job one was assigned to. If such was the state in a Minister's home, she could not imagine what it was like in the royal palace.
And then he came. Without saying anything he made his place in the chair opposite to her, his face reeking of exhaustion. She dwelled on what to say, then remembered her visit to her mother.
'Frollo, I wanted to ask you something.'
The judge looked up at her peculiarly. 'Whatever happened to "sir" or "master"?'
She gulped. 'Oh, my apologies. Master.'
He responded with a chortle. She looked at him confusedly.
'I was messing with you. You may call me Claude, although "master" isn't unfavorable either.'
She turned her attention to the food, her face reddening.
'You were saying?' he insisted.
'I want to ask you if I can buy a house.'
The denial came almost immediately. 'I am a busy man. Having you in another house will just make it inconvenient. It's best that you stay in the Palace of Justice.'
'Not for me. For my mother.'
'Your mother?' his eyebrows furrowed. 'She already has one.'
'You know it's not a house. It's a cramped-up hole of a cell.'
'She is a recluse. That's how she has chosen to live.'
'Not anymore. She became a recluse for she didn't have me. But she does now. How can I live here and see her beg for a living? Please, Claude,' she persuaded. 'Not a lavish house. Just a normal one. She is my mother. Would you have liked if your mother lived like that? Wouldn't you have wanted her to be happy?'
He became awfully quiet at that. The girl was caught off-guard.
'Is everything fine? Did I say something wrong?'
He shook his head. 'No.'
'Can...is it that we can't afford one?'
That seemed to bring him out of his trance, as he burst out laughing. She again eyed him, bemused.
'My sweet cinnamon, do you seriously think that I can't afford a cottage?'
She looked down. 'I mean, us gypsies together couldn't afford one.'
He laughed harder. 'You are not a gypsy anymore. You are a member of the upper-class. Fine; have your house. But it must be bought in my name,' he said, reaching out for his wine.
--
Esmeralda dozed off moments after she lay down on the bed. Frollo's instructions were to wait for him, but she couldn't help herself.
The judge was meticulously copying his latest discovery onto a piece of paper. Not that he couldn't remember it without writing it down, but it was better to not take risks. The stakes were high.
His success had brought him immense pride, and also relief. He had given his youth to the secret of making gold. Read countless books, performed countless experiments, visited countless philosophers. For a long time, he was concerned that despite his dire efforts, he would, akin to his counterparts, fail. The prospect of his passion and hard work going to ruins was something that kept him up at night. But not anymore.
God had sent his reassurance. Not only had fate thrusted La Esmeralda in his hands, it had also given him the reins to achieve his heart's greatest, darkest desires. This was enough to make Claude Frollo presume that all his actions had been just, and the supreme power had no qualms about him. He had, in all aspects, won his conquest.
His only regret was Jehan. His mother had trusted him with his brother's responsibility. What would she be thinking? What would his Abel be thinking, if he got to know that the battle he lost his life in was caused by his brother?
"It doesn't matter," he told himself. Every mistake, every agony, every torturous, self-doubting moment had led him to this. He never got the affections of his parents, nor a woman. But now he could take every ounce of love he was deprived of. Sure, La Esmeralda was insubordinate to him and childish. But she would come to love him. She would learn to, for she must. After all, he possessed her maidenhood.
The fact that he was the one to take her innocence brought him fulfilment. For years she had held power on him. Stolen the peace of his life. Now he would hold power on her. He was the only man in the world to have seen her, touched her that intimately. And he would be the only one. Not Phoebus, not Gringoire, not Quasimodo. She was his and his alone to savor.
--
He retired to his chamber halfway into the night. The thought of her delicate figure waiting demurely in his bed like a gift made him giddy. Except that she wasn't.
The blanket was on the floor. Coming closer, he noticed that she was breathing rapidly, her limbs flexing themselves. He touched her hand, and felt it drenched in cold sweat. He was puzzled. Then at once she started screaming.
Her arms and legs thrashed around, making Frollo back off.
'No! Don't kill me! Please don't!' the girl was bawling. 'Have mercy! Please, have mercy! I'm innocent! I swear I'm innocent! Believe me.' She wrapped herself in a crouch, weeping hysterically.
'Esmeralda, what is it?' he questioned, trying to hold her down. He got startled when she squeezed him, as if for dear life. 'Please,' she sobbed on his shoulder. 'I did nothing. Please don't hang me, I beg of you.'
He got reminded of Jehan when they had lost their parents. The boy often used to have nightmares in the middle of the night, after which he insisted to sleep with Claude. He rubbed her back.
Suddenly, she opened her eyes and looked around frantically, her eyes bloodshot from both crying and sleep. Realizing the lack of distance between them, she pulled away from him.
'What happened?'
She looked at the thrown away blankets, guilt taking over her. 'I-I'm so sorry,' she said, shaking.
'It's...it's alright,' he said, drawing her closer. She didn't resist; it was cold. Jehan also used to have a fever. He touched her cheek and forehead. Luckily she was normal.
'I remembered...them taking me away...to the gallows.'
'Ah. If it hasn't crossed your notice then you aren't remotely close to being executed right now.'
'I know. But I can't help it,' she buried her head deep in his clothes. He almost felt sorry for her. She was like a scared rabbit, helpless and vulnerable. Completely reliant on him.
'Do you need water?'
'Yes,' came a meek reply.
--
She gulped like she hadn't had water from days. He felt a tingling sensation in his chest watching her little hands, with the blue veins slightly visible, holding the filled-up jug with difficulty. He took it from her and kissed her cheek. She seemed discomforted, but didn't react much.
'I would really prefer to...can I sleep?', she asked.
'Sure,' he said gently, trying to hide the haziness in his mind. 'After we are done, you should get some rest.'
'I don't really want to. It's very late too. Can we do it tomorrow?' Her face was tearful and messed-up. But the throbbing in his body was greater.
He sighed, stroking tears off her face. 'Darling, you remember our deal, don't you? You can't say no to me.'
He could feel her tremble.
'Now, now,' he soothed. 'don't I provide for you? You are, in all means a beggar. If I want, I can keep you locked away in the dungeon below. But I'm keeping you here, as my woman. I'm allowing you to meet your mother. The ability that you have to buy a cottage or taunt people like Fleur-Dy-Lys, isn't it all due to me?'
She looked at him fearfully. 'You got to know?'
'I get to know everything, my dear. See, everything comes at a cost. Your life comes with my love and your docility.' He lifted her chin. 'Driving a righteous man mad for you comes with bearing the result of the said madness.'
'B-but I didn't. I didn't drive you mad.'
He put a finger on her lips, putting his hand around her waist. His lips met hers as he pushed her body on the bed.
She could only whisper. 'Please...'
His cock was aching in need. He took it out and shoved it in her mouth. She gagged at it, coughing slightly. Removing it for a moment, he put it in again, adjusting it.
'Run your tongue.'
She did as she was told to. He shut his eyes and let out a moan, clutching her arm. Waves of pleasure and warmth were filling in him. This was just what he wanted, from the day he first saw her dance in the square. The desire for these moments had stolen the peace of his life, and now he could have all of them.
He then put a hand behind her, slightly pulling her hair. Guiding her head he made her make movements on him, filling him with more ecstasy.
He groaned as he let go. She pushed him off and moved at the side of the bed to cough out his sperm.
He lay back, heaving. 'That will take some explaining to the servants tomorrow,' he said looking at what she was doing. Sitting up, he tried getting hold of her shoulders, intending to kiss her neck. 'I'm tired', she muttered.
Trying to keep her close, he forced his eyes open and perceived that he was as well. His head nearly dropped on her shoulder, making her jostle him instantaneously. After some struggle he quit, getting up to pick the blanket.
'You should be thankful that I'm not doing more,' he said in a volume only audible to him. The girl meanwhile, had already rolled on to a side, facing away from him.
"I will put her disobedience in order. From tomorrow."