Title: Betrayal
Author: Carmarthen (caerfyrddin @ gmail.com
Fandom/Pairing: Notre-Dame de Paris (a.k.a. The Hunchback of Notre Dame); Dom Claude Frollo/Esmeralda
Disclaimer: Notre-Dame de Paris the book, and all characters therein belonged to the brilliant Victor Hugo, who is now dead. I believe his novels are now in the public domain. I borrowed the Latin quotes at the beginning and end of the Frollo section from the Disney movie The Hunchback of Notre Dame; they were arranged by Stephen Schwartz, but I suspect they're public domain, as particular phrases of church Latin can be found in many places.
Rating: R for strongly implied rape and general unpleasantness.
Spoilers: For the end of the novel. Not so much an alternate ending as an alternate way of getting to the same ending, starting with probably the first time Esmeralda is in prison (so the escape/bonding with Quasi/second hanging attempt don't happen). I'm not entirely sure.
Summary: Esmeralda is depressed and disillusioned and Dom Claude finally snaps. An alternate way of getting to the ending of Notre-Dame de Paris.
Warnings: Rape, het, character death (canon), no happy ending.
Archive: My personal site (http://thewritegirls.populli.net/carmarthen); others ask.
Notes: The plot demons forced me to write this. It's probably as dark and nasty as I get, and I hope I treated the topic respectfully.

Betrayal

ESMERALDA:

She was cold. She was hungry. But she had not lost hope.

He would come for her, she knew. Her shining Phoebus, her sun, her brave cavalier would come to save her, to be her lover and husband.

Oh! She knew it, she knew he was coming. Her heart leapt as a key turned in the lock of her cell door. Was it Phoebus, so soon? She sprang to her feet and waited.

A man cloaked in black, hood shadowing his face, entered, shutting the door behind him. He carried a small lantern in one hand, but its feeble rays hardly illuminated the cell.

"Phoebus?" she said hesitantly.

The cloaked man seemed to glare at her from the shadows under the hood. "No," he said, and the voice was harsh, and not that of Phoebus.

Esmeralda knew that voice and trembled. "It is you, assassin! Oh, come forward, I am not afraid of you anymore! Esmeralda fears no man who hides himself in the shadows to stab the brave from behind. No, you are nothing! Come closer, and I will kill you!"

Dom Claude did step forward, lowering the hood of his cloak. His bared face looked strangely naked in the half-light, all emotions raw on the surface.

To Esmeralda, his emotion was a hideous sight, for she almost felt pity for him, and pity for the assassin of her love was not to be had for anything!

"Esmeralda..." he began, holding out a hand to her. "All I ask is for a moment of happiness. One night and you are free, I swear it."

Esmeralda began to turn her back to him, but decided better, settling for raising her chin haughtily. "My Phoebus will save me! Go away!"

His hand darted out and caught her arm, gripping hard enough to bruise. His voice vicious, he said, "Enough of your handsome Phoebus! You silly girl, he is the one who betrayed you to your executioners!"

Esmeralda shook her head frantically. "No! No! You are lying, assassin! Have you killed him yet?"

Dom Claude released her suddenly and stood back. "Poor Esmeralda...your captain is alive, and well. He has a betrothed, of a wealthy family. He has forgotten you, as the world will forget you when you die." His voice changed, becoming gentle. "Would it not be better to live?"

She fell back against the wall, still shaking her head. "No...no...you must be lying! My Phoebus would not abandon me."

She looked up, crying, to see Dom Claude hold out a piece of paper. "It is the order for your execution. See there, at the bottom, his signature."

Esmeralda looked, against her will. There she could make out the only word she knew, and she screamed, the sound ricocheting dreadfully off the walls.

Her Phoebus had betrayed her.

Dom Claude's arms were around her, and he was murmuring something she did not hear.

Nothing mattered, not even his hated touch, not now that her Phoebus no longer loved her.

The sudden touch of cool air on her legs startled her out of her misery for a moment. She looked down and realized that Dom Claude had slid the skirt of the white nun's habit she had been given nearly up to her thighs, his hands following the fabric over her skin.

His face was intent and full of something she, in her innocence, had no name for. It was a bit like how Phoebus had looked at her, but different somehow. More hungry, perhaps. It no longer frightened her so much. After all, what was there now?

Let him do what he willed. She was dead, now that Phoebus had abandoned her. And deep in her heart, she felt a tiny stab of hatred towards Phoebus. He must have seen her innocence, given her false oaths. Engaged!

Dom Claude touched her with a surprising reverence, and her heart softened a little towards him. If he had not been a priest -- if she had not been a gypsy -- if she had not loved Phoebus -- so many ifs. She must not think of what might have been.

There was pain, but she made no sound, holding back her tears out of pride, and it passed.

This was what what Phoebus had wanted, and would have had, had not Dom Claude interefered. Perhaps she should feel regret, but something inside her took a perverse pleasure in allowing Dom Claude to have what he had kept from Phoebus. Perhaps she was possessed, but it did not matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

Esmeralda opened her eyes to find him staring at her, shock, anger, and remorse playing over his face.

Then it was over. Dom Claude stood and dressed, backing out of her cell without a word. When he reached the door, he began to stretch one hand out to her, then stopped. He shut his eyes for a moment, crossed himself hurriedly, murmured something in Latin, and left.

She heard the key turn in the lock and turned her face to the wall. He had betrayed her too, but that was no longer important.

She was going to die, but it did not matter.

Dom Claude felt his madness clear as he watched Esmeralda taken to the gallows. The gallows he had sent her to. The madness that had possessed him since he had first seen her dance in the square left in its wake remorse and overwhelming guilt.

Merciful God, he had betrayed her too, defiled her with his touch! He had defiled that radiant beauty he had thought born of sin. That beauty that had been purity and innocence, and yet had not fled when purity was gone and innocence shattered. Worthless being, false priest that he was, he had defiled her kindness, that kindness that had never been for him! And then he had broken his word and sent her to her death.

He realized suddenly that it was he who deserved death. And why not? What had he to live for now that she would die? Jehan was dead. She would soon die, die a martyr. Everyone was dead. Everyone but Quasimodo. Poor Quasimodo, who remained at the center of the storm, yet untouched by guilt. For a moment Dom Claude envied him.

He ascended the stairs to the belltower. Quasimodo sat in his room, carving something out of a scrap of wood.

Quasimodo leapt up at Dom Claude's arrival, the carving dropping to the floor to roll under the table.

"Come with me, Quasimodo, to the roof."

Quasimodo followed without a sound.

"See there, over in the Place de Gréve, see there? See how someone is to hang? It is your beautiful Esmeralda, who danced there in the square, who is to die. She will die because I willed it." Dom Claude laughed, and it sounded broken even to his own ears. Broken as life was broken. He was possessed again, but by guilt.

Quasimodo screamed, an inarticulate cry full of all the rage and pain of a miserable life.

Dom Claude felt himself falling and was dimly aware that Quasimodo had pushed him. One final word tore from his lips without his consciously willing it:

"Damnation!"

He hoped God truly was merciful, for all of them.

Kyrie elesion.

Latin translations from the Disney version soundtrack's lyrics booklet:

Confiteor Deo Omnipotenti quia peccavi nimis cogitatione, verbo et opere.
I confess to God Almighty that I have sinned in thought, word, and deed.

Kyrie elesion.
Lord have mercy.

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