Consumed by Fire [The Hunchback of Notre-Dame]

Phoebus × Claude, a straight-laced, oblivious general × an abstinent, obsessive archdeacon

Claude Frollo knelt before the cross, his forehead pressed against the cold stone floor.

He was confessing. He had once confessed his sins over that Romani girl; now he was confessing over someone else: a man with dazzling blond hair and a hearty laugh. He had knelt for so long that his knees had gone numb, for so long that even God had not answered him.

Footsteps sounded from the far end of the passage.

“Archdeacon?” Phoebus's voice rang through the empty church, carrying a hint of surprise and a casual ease. He came to stand beside Claude, his military boots polished, his posture straight. With a carefree smile, he said, “I'm going to set the date for my wedding to Fleur-de-Lys soon. How would you like to officiate?”

Claude kept his eyes closed.

He said, “Of course. I'll pray for you both before God.”

No, he wouldn't. He would curse their marriage in the most vicious terms. May he stay away from her. May he come to hate her. May he fall into hell with him in the endless darkness.

I have already fallen, Claude thought. Fallen for you, body and soul.

But you don't know.

How tragic.

In a dark corner of a pointed bell tower, someone found a few large Greek letters carved by hand into the wall: ANARKH, “fate.” The letters had sunk entirely into the stone, weathered by the passage of time. This indescribable symbol held a tragic destiny and meaning.

“Yes, I don't know how to express it, and I don't know how to please you.”

“But I love you.”

“My heart bears witness.”

“How?”

He smiled.

“Will you dig it out and show me?”

He was a raging fire, burning away the wasteland in his heart.

(This story is complete nonsense and has no basis in history. Fans of the original and historical accuracy enthusiasts, please go easy on me.)

Theme: Love can make people become better versions of themselves