♱ Hellfire ♱ Tag; Belle

[Judge Claude Frollo]

The dying embers of the fire glowed with an angry red light, splitting the heavy darkness with a fierce radiance as the curling remains of a decorative scarf smoked their last breath before disintegrating like ashes scattered on a wind. Lying on the cool stone floor, barley feet away from the eroded half was the crucified form of a man, his thin body wrapped in a sheath of dark robes.

His thinning hair sat plastered against his skull by a cool sweat, it’s grey colour almost completely de-saturated by the pale moonlight that crept down through the large, arched windows like a spectre. His limbs spread wide, he may have been the image of the holy Son but the murky aura which emanated from him drove away any signs of purity as he lay still as the grave and plagued by sinister dreams of his sins…

***

Before him stood a jury of hooded Benedictine monks, they’re faces hidden almost completely in shadow even though they we’re surrounded by the glowing red light emanating from an unseen fireplace. It was strong, so strong that it felt like the Ministers entire body was wrapped in a burning Hellfire and though his skin remained pale and cold in appearance, the fire still burned, burned brighter and hotter until finally, one of the monks facing him stepped forwards, a bible lying open in his hands. Though his face remained in shadow, his eyes seemed to smoulder with a dark light, piercing though the burning fire, though Frollo’s mortal shell, to his Soul.

For the second time in his life, the Minster felt a twinge of fear spread through him, a warning from god, echoed in a the Latin prayer which started up inside his head, orchestrated by the smouldering eyes of the Monk,

Dies iræ! dies illa
Solvet sæclum in favilla:
Teste David cum Sibylla!

Mors stupebit, et natura,
Cum resurget creatura,
Iudicanti responsura.

Judex ergo cum sedebit,
Quidquid latet, apparebit:
Nil inultum remanebit

Juste Judex ultionis,
Donum fac remissionis
Ante diem rationis.

Dies iræ! dies illa

The fire around him intensified and then in a split second, it was over, everything went black and the prayer echoed off into oblivion as the image of the Monks distorted and faded away into the closing darkness.

***

The cool stone beneath him was a blessing against his seared flesh and as a low banging echoed through the barren hall, the Judge stirred, letting out a low moan as he woke from an uneasy sleep. The banging continued until it registered in the Judges brain and he slowly got to his feet and made his way towards the sound.

He had been judged and he had been warned. Yet still the lust, the obsession and the longing to purge the world of everything he saw as unholy dominated his heart as he pulled open the heavy door.

[Belle]

France was always a magical place. Beautiful and mystical, the place seemed to run in Belle's very veins. She would often wander around the town of Notre Dame, immersed in a book of far away places, daydreaming about an adventure she wished some day to have.

On this particular day however, the sun was not shining but hidden behind the gloomy clouds that quickly glided across the sky; the wind was fast and strong. A storm was no doubt soon to come.

Belle clutched her cloak tighter as she glanced up at the sky, quickly making her way through the thinning crowd. If only she had paid more attention to where she was going, she wouldn't be lost right now! If only she could find her way to the Notre Dame Cathedral, she'd be able to make her way back home.

As she stopped to glance around at her surroundings for a moment, a grand door suddenly opened to her left as she scrunched up her eyes at the scent that came from it. A dire, slightly nauseating smell. And was that... Was that smoke? Surely not...

As she looked again, the young beauty noticed the man that had just exited from it. He was rather tall and thin, old with a domineering face. His eyes looked cold and sinister.. But also confused. Almost a little lost - just like herself.

"Please, excuse me, monsieur," Belle began, hurrying over to him as the harsh wind picked up and whipped around her face. "Do you know how I can get to the Notre Dame Cathedral?"

[Judge Claude Frollo]

The palace of Justice was an intimidating site to anyone, in particular those who entered its jaw like mouth and knew they would not be leaving the same way. It was huge fortress of Stone standing high against the small, higgledy-piggledy buildings of the city, overshadowed only in height by the majestic cathedral. The deep teal slates that tiled the roof accentuated the cold grey colour of the stone and two large spire topped columns flanked the main doorway like vicious sentries. Meters away, two sharp looking towers higher up capped the perimeter.

All in all the court, as it was predominately used for, rose up on five stories, every slanted roof, every sharp tower and spire rising higher then the last until it finally came to a halt and two large arched windows peered out of it's gothic visage to survey the city below. An open corridor divided the topmost roof from the others and it was here, that the Judge would spend his hours spying on the Parisian Gypsies as they presented their wares in the streets below and unluckily for them, it was also here that he would devise the tactics employed by his soldiers, to destroy them.

Yes the Palace was a mark of power and more importantly his power. It stood tall and commanding the same way Frollo stood tall and commanding and that alone was a reflection of just what the Judge was capable of doing if he put his mind to it. So to find a woman stood before him, a woman who had made her way willingly up the many stairs which lead to an entrance most people gave a wide berth, was enough to surprise Frollo. Something which happened very rarely.

He was not accustomed to answering his own door; in fact to think one of the soldiers hadn’t been there to stop this woman from coming up the stairs all together suddenly crossed his mind as he stared somewhat irritated into her dark eyes. He was less then presentable in his ruffled robes and the absence of his hat drew attention to the unkempt way his hair stood up on his head. Right now, the judge looked nothing more then a weary old man and yet, one glance from his cold eyes was enough to send a shiver down the spines of the bravest men. His gaze finally focusing on her face, the Judge was struck speechless for a moment by the mere beauty of the girl before him and for that second her presence pushed that of the Gypsy witch out of his mind.

"Please, excuse me, monsieur, do you know how I can get to the Notre Dame Cathedral?"

[/i]

Unsure how to reply at first as her startling visage somewhat blinded him, the Judge simply stared at her, his face set in a frown before he finally found his strangely hoarse voice (perhaps his dream had caused him to scream out loud during his sleep?) and answered her.
“Forgive me my dear but I have no time to direct you at this moment.”[/b] He had far more important things to worry about right now, as the remnants of the dream hovered over him like a dark cloud and directing a beautiful, but obviously peasant girl to Notre Dame was not one of them. Adding to that the sudden memory that he was due to meet with Quasimodo within the hour he had to ready himself.
“Perhaps if you care to wait I can assist you but you have caught me at a rather unorthodox hour I--”[/b] Before he had finished his sentence however, one of his missing guards jogged up the stairs in a huff and dipped his head in a respectful bow.
“Minster Frollo sir! I am sorry! We we’re delayed, there was trouble in the Square”.

Turing his gaze to the soldier, the Minister's eyes narrowed into a sharp glare. “Officer, I expect you and your guards to be here on time regardless of what is going on in the square. As you can see this young lady is in need of assistance, had you been here on time, she would not have had to ask me. I will deal with you later.”[/b] The warning clear in his tone, Frollo turned back to the girl once more, this time prepared for the beauty of her visage as the guard dipped his head once again in acknowledgment and took up his sentry position at the top of the stairs.
“Well my dear, considering my morning has already been disrupted, if you will kindly wait here, I will join you in a moment and you may accompany me to the cathedral. I myself, have an appointment with the Bellringer.”
With that, Frollo closed the door behind him and crossed the hallway to the stairs on the opposite side which would take him up into his private residence, leaving the girl outside with the guard.[/blockquote]

((I'll have him re-join you in my next post okay so feel free to control the guard! ^^))

[Belle]

((Wow wow wow, you awesome role player you. ;D Gaah, Frollo rocks! I was listening to the Beauty and the Beast prologue music while I was reading your post and it fitted so well!))

The stench of smoke and dead fire increased drastically as Belle reached face to face with the man but she did well to ignore it. For a moment he didn't seem to register her, apparently too preoccupied with his own thoughts to give her much notice. It was then that his cold eyes went from the stairs surrounding his home to her face for the first time.

His irritated expression soon changed to that of astonishment, as if he wasn't quite sure how to react. Perhaps he didn't get many visitors? This thought made Belle feel rather lonely and her empathy for the stranger increased. He frowned at her for a long moment, apparently trying to figure out, before finally replying to her question.

“Forgive me my dear but I have no time to direct you.”

His voice was deep and strong, almost a sneer. It unnerved Belle a little, but a voice inside told her not judge him on his outward appearance, no matter how uncomfortable it made her (or his voice for that matter). Disappointment had jabbed at her insides at his answer and she had turned to carry on when he spoke again.

“Perhaps if you care to wait I can assist you but you have caught me at a rather unorthodox hour I--”

Before he could finish however, a guard she had not noticed previously had jogged up beside them. He's the minister? Belle thought, her cheeks reddening at the idea that she had just strolled up to someone so important. Indeed, it now made sense why he had been so confused when she spoke to him.

She frowned a little as something else about his name triggered in her memory. Frollo.. Where had she heard that before? Before she could ponder on this any longer however, Frollo had turned his attention back to her and was now offering to be a guide.

"Oh thank you, monsieur, you are very kind," she replied gratefully, still feeling rather embarrassed.

"...I myself have an appointment with the Bell-ringer.”

Belle watched the old man leave, knowing not who or what the Bell-ringer was. She had no idea there even was a bell-ringer at the Cathedral. There were no notes on them in any of the books or slabs she had read on the building; perhaps it was a secret that the minister had mistakingly said? But why would it be such a secret? Or maybe she was letting her imagination run away with her again.

It was then that Belle remembered that the guard that had come over was still stood beside her.

"What?" He asked rather roughly and Belle turned her awkward expression toward him as she added quickly, "n- nothing. Shall I wait over here?"

The guard looked at her closely for a moment before replying, "This way, mademoiselle..."

Putting his hand on her shoulders, he gently but forcefully guided her to the bottom of the stairs where she gave a nod and a smile of gratitude before wrapping her cloak tighter around her once more and letting her thoughts wander over what she had just discovered. What was a bell-ringer? Perhaps she could ask him on the way to the Cathedral? Or would that be overstepping the mark? He was an important man after all, and a powerful one at that.

Oh how Papa would love to meet him! Belle thought excitedly. Someone cultured, intelligent and could help with his dream of being a scientist. With her mind whirring with questions, she waited at the bottom of the stone steps, her anxiousness quickly disappearing.

Little did she realise then, the danger she was putting herself in, and how she would live to regret letting Judge Claude Frollo walk her to the Notre Dame Cathedral on that cloudy day in Paris.