Chapter Four

At first, Ariel wasn't too thrilled with the idea of getting back in the water. But this lake that Frollo's maid had made for her was so hot and frothy. And it had bubbles. So many pink bubbles!

"Cast out by you family," the maid said to her sadly. "Oh, you poor thing. We'll have you feeling better in no time." She swept up the towel Ariel had been wearing. It smelled like old seaweed. The maid crinkled her nose. "I'll just, uh... I'll just get this washed for you."

With the maid gone, Ariel smiled mischievously. She'd washed her hair and body. Maybe now would be a good time to really try out her new legs on her own in private. That way, if she messed up and fell again, no one would be around to see her.

She pushed herself up to her feet, and even though it took a moment, she somehow found a sense of balance in the bubbly lake. She smiled, proud of herself for having accomplished such a task.

She was standing. What a dream come true!

*

Damn the maid! Why did she have to leave the bathroom door ajar again!?

The woman's back was turned to him, but her body was a sight to behold. Her wet hair clunk to her smooth back. Her creamy skin. All the way down to her perfectly round buttocs.

It had only been for a split second, and when Frollo remembered himself, he resumed his march down the hall. He needed to visit the priest and make a confession. But only after he'd visited Quasimodo. Hopefully, the house hadn't been tainted by the gypsie anymore than he already was.

How dare he defy him by attending the Festival? His place was amongst the bell towers in the most Holy building in all of Paris. Why in the world would he want to leave such sacred ground?

Wait... Of course!

This afternoon after her bath, Frollo would take the red haired beauty--woman--to stay a the Cathedral until her baptism. Afterwards she would join the church nunary.

Odd... It was the right thing to do, Frollo knew that much. But why didn't it set well with him?

*

Vanessa stood on the bow of the ship, staring off at the far of view of Paris. They would arrive tomorrow morning, bringing her all that much closer to Frollo. By now, he'd probably broken out in night sweats over his latest temptation. He always hated that. He hated every kind of sin. Revenge was so, so sweet.

To her right, she heard a familiar sound, and she grinned wryly. She casually sauntered to the edge of the bow and watched as the King of the Sea arose from a mass of angry bubbles to meet her eye to eye.

"Ursula, stop!"

Ah, so he'd figured her out. "Why, King Triton. How are you?"

"Let her go," he hissed.

"Not a chance, Triton. She's mine now. We made a deal." She held a hand out, and the gold parchment materialized in her palm with Ariel's signature ablaze in bold letters. "You see? The contract's legal. Binding and completely unbreakable--Even for you."

King Triton's face enflamed with hot anger, hiding the sadness bellied in his heart. His precious Arial... He didn't want to believe she'd grown so desperate. So in need for humanity that she'd practically sell her soul to do it.

"Of course," the sea with continued. "I've always been a girl with an eye for a bargain. The daughter of the great Sea King is a very precious comodety. But I might be willing to make an exchange... for someone even better."

All at once, Triton's rage evaporated and his fatherly heart started beating hard in his chest. He'd give all the seas to protect his daughters, no matter what they did. No matter how much they angered him. Why should Ariel be any different?

"Now, do we have a deal?"

*

Quasimodo wrang his hands together, his eyes lowered together floor. "So... the girl will be living here too?"

"Yes," Frollo insisted firmly. "She is soon to be baptized and committed to our Sisterhood of Nuns. You are not to disturb her from such a pure path. Do you understand?"

"Y--Yes, Master."

"Good." Frollo calmly gripped the grape basket's handle and stood up. He patted his adopted son on the head. "I shall see you tomorrow, my boy. Goodnight." Frollo turned his back and headed for the stairs.

"Goodnight, Master." But Quazimodo's affections for his adoptive father remained unrequited.

Frollo saw no sign of the gypsie girl as he marched down the of Halls of Notre Dame. He was quiet, as he didn't want to disturb anyone who might be at prayer.

No one was looking. Now was the perfect time.

In a discreet fascion, Frollo snuck his way into the confession box, took off his hat, and made the sign of the cross over himself. Then he spoke to the priest.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned."

"In what way, my child?"

"I have soccumbed to lustful thoughts, and have even seen a woman naked."

"Is the woman married?"

"No. She is to be baptized and take vows of chastity."

"Do you know if she is truly committed to such vows?"

"She seems to be, but I can't be sure. She is a mute, you see."

The priest wes quiet for a moment. "You are a judge of the church, correct?"

"As I live and breath," Frollo confirmed.

"But you are not a cardinal, and you yourself are unmarried... Perhaps this is God's way of sending you a message that you should consider a life of matrimony."

Frollo's eyes widened in disbelief. Marriage? Him? With her!?

"Until then, do not lust after her in a sinful way. And you must not look upon her naked again. Understand?"

Frollo cleared his throat and regained his composure. "Yes, Father."

With that, he kissed his Rosery and put his hat back on before leaving the booth.