Winter

by Number2_Pencil

Summary:

"Now, now, my pet... You lead me to believe this is what you wanted."

 

It has been five years since the hunchback was forced upon him, five years of distraction from his great work. Frollo, determined to seize power as the highest judge in the city, is held back further when he is tasked with the education of a new arrival in the royal court. But Frollo has no desire for a page, a pupil, an assistant or otherwise - least of all if that person is a shameless girl with a smart mouth. She quickly proves to be a distraction for the judge. He must determine what to do about this newest problem.

 

Rated Explicit for mature themes, violence, explicit sexual content, physical, emotional and sexual abuse.
CW: language and canon-appropriate racial slur; physical, emotional and sexual abuse; non-consensual sex acts.

 

I do not own the original work, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, or its characters. Please do not repost without permission.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! This fanfiction has been a long time in progress. I have made the decision to go back into earlier chapters to do a little editing for clarity and consistency. Please enjoy, and thank you for taking this journey with me - and stay tuned for the second installment of this ongoing story, to be released at a later date.

Please also note this is not meant to be a retelling of HoND. This fanfic takes place five years after the prologue of the Disney adaptation. Frollo is not the hero of this story, and he is not meant to be represented as a redeemable character. He is an unreliable narrator in the worst possible way - a man who represses himself so much that when he does feel any sort of desire, it overwhelms him, to the point of obsession. He is ruthless, selfish and manipulative. He will not get a Happily Ever After.

We love him, we hate him, we love to hate him, we maybe kind of hate ourselves for loving him? If you're reading this fanfic, you get it.

Chapter 1: Prologue

It has been five long years since the creature was thrust into his care. It has turned into a sniveling, pathetic child, its needs ever distracting the judge from his real work. The city continues to flood with vagabonds and thieves, lurking in every alley, peddling on every street corner. The king himself has no idea the depths of depravity that continue to affect the common people. Thankfully, his majesty leaves Frollo to deal with the growing gypsy problem as he sees fit.

It is early winter when some distant, younger relative of the king arrives at court, in need of a new role and supervision. Frollo is again torn away from his real work to watch over yet another pathetic child - a girl, too old to be married off, too educated to be left to roam free and meddle in affairs of the court. Frollo has no desire for a page, a pupil, an assistant - especially not a girl - but he begrudgingly accepts the task, if only to appease the king.

The girl is shameless. She travelled into Paris with only a maid and a few possessions, being unwed and having no other living relatives. She makes blatant eye contact with any man. She speaks before being given leave to do so. She has opinions about the city's delicate politics, even having only arrived a few short weeks ago. It is no small wonder the king doesn't want to entertain her anymore, but to ask Frollo to make her a page in his offices? Unheard of.

And unseemly.

On the first day she arrives in his chambers, entering without so much as a knock, Frollo is almost taken aback. He had nearly forgotten. He grimaces and shakes his head.

Her brow furrows; she sees the frustration in the judge's face. But no matter, Frollo thinks to himself; I may have to provide her with work, but she will know her place in my domain. She will know that she is not welcome.

With a low sigh, Frollo extends a hand out to the girl, offering a small stack of documents for her to work with. She snatches them from his hands, and leaves the room, pushing past others in the judge's staff who come and go with their own work.

As Frollo turns back to his desk, he catches a spark in the air, a whisper like pine in the wind, an earthy perfume he can't quite place. He reflects for a moment on the faint freckles that hovered on her cheek, the pale glint of her exposed collar... he swallows hard.

Again, he grimaces. Again, he shakes his head. 

This will not do.