Disclaimer: Disney belongs to Disney. Everything that's not Disney belongs to me or was influenced by someone else.
Author's Note: This will be my first Clopin-centric fanfic. And my first fanfic since middle school so I'm hoping I wont disappoint. Concerning the setting and all that jazz, I will (sort of) attempt to be historically accurate. But since the movie is ridiculously fictitious, I don't think the few people reading will mind too much. With that said if you'd like to comment with some interesting historical facts, go for it! My story takes place a less than a year after the first movie.
Rating: Rated "T" for possible gore and non-explicit adult themes.
P.S. Should you find any spelling mistakes or super awkward sentence structures, I'd really appreciate it if you let me know. I don't want people to think I'm sloppy.
Chapter One: "The Departure"
"Clopin! Clopin! Tell us a story." Children began gathering around a certain gypsy's wagon. The mark of a typical morning in the crowded streets of Paris.
"One with dragons!" Chimed a boy, flailing around an invisible sword.
"Or romance," sighed a girl.
All the little ones were chattering excitedly, piping up with their own suggestions and preferences for a story. The gypsy laughed. He adored the enthusiasm of children. "You children look like you could use a boost in moral standing. So for this morning I shall recite a dramatic reading of psalms 7:6 through 42:4…" Clopin suggested, before glancing expectantly at his cringing audience.
When suddenly his little puppet friend popped up and made a disapproving flatulence noise withits mouth. The children laughed as Clopin was taken aback by the puppet's interjection. Regardless, he seemed to have a sudden change of heart.
"My little friend makes a valid point! That wont do. But, I've got a story that's bound to please. Have any of you heard of the princess that never smiled?" The children began to settle down as they looked to each other in curious silence. "No? Well, then lend me your ears and Clopin will tell you her tale.
"There once lived a princess who had everything, and yet nothing. She was a princess so sad, she never smiled once in her life," the gypsy began somberly. He began explaining how distraught her father, the king, was and how he tried everything to make her happy. But oh, how she appeared bored and indifferent to every gift and spectacle put before her! After sixteen years of frowning the king could take no more of her melancholy, so he generously offered his kingdom and his daughter's hand to anyone that would make his impossible daughter laugh.
The story was a hit with the kids. To stress any particular funny or dramatic part of the story, the gypsy king would break out into a rhyming song, use silly looking puppets, and change back drops. Though with energy like Clopin's, he could probably trim off all the frills and recite multplication tables to King Charles and still be called back again for another performance.
"Hundreds of suitors tried and failed to amuse the princess. Then one day a poor and clumsy fool with absolutely no intention of wooing her, tripped which somehow lead to a catastrophic domino effect of damage. Buildings collapsed onto buildings and soon an entire town was in ruin! The princess and the king had witnessed the whole mess occur. And right before the king was to order the poor fool to death for destroying part of his kingdom, his daughter cracked. And all the townsmen ceased to run around like headless chickens to stand agape at their once stiff and humourless princess as she now writhed on the ground in uninhibited, hysterical laughter. Her father (forgetting the mass wreckage) was overjoyed and, allowing no exceptions, declared this fool to be the new king. Problem was, the fool was in love with another-"
"Ahem."
Clopin was on a roll. He had every child watching dangling on a string of suspense. But his roll came to an unfortunate halt when suddenly a very pregnant gypsy approached the wagon. Her arms were folded and her eyebrow cocked.
"-Well! If it isn't the ever lovely mother-to-be Esmeralda! To what do we owe the interruption?" Normally Clopin would have ignored her rather than stopping in the middle of a story. But, judging by her expression this seemed important. He was still just a teensy bit annoyed though, he happened to like this story.
Esmeralda smiled. "The caravan?"
Clopin gasped. "That was today? Oopsie... I better go." He looked apologetically to his audience. They gave a dejected 'aww' as he began to pack up. "No worries children. I'll be back in a few weeks and we can finish the story then. Now scoot. And off I go! Thank yooou," he called back to Esmeralda as he was already halfway down the street.
Every few months the gypsy "king" leads a caravan of merchants around to the smaller villages surrounding Paris. Though it can be dangerous, the villagers and their local noblemen are surprisingly generous buyers and the trade is excellent. Not to mention it was super fun. These places hardly ever get any skilled merchants or performers passing through, so most of the bored villagers are very grateful for the energy and excitement the gypsies bring. Especially the young female villagers, in which Clopin is more than happy to oblige his servies.
After the gypsy took one last trip to the Court of Miracles and gathered his necessary belongings, he was soon ready to go and approached the caravan. Upon exiting and entering Paris, the gypsies usually disguise themselves as hooded monks transporting copies of the Bible to less fortunate villages. This genius plan of Clopin's has allowed the caravan to safely come and go from the city for almost a year now. Since the death of Judge Claude Frollo, every expedition has gone more smoothly than the last. Though some people were still troubled.
As Clopin was throwing on his monk robe, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Esmeralda. She usually came along on the caravan, but given her current condition, she decided it was best to stay behind this time. Now she was just there to see them off. Yet she looked troubled.
The gypsy king scratched his beard. "You look concerned.. Don't tell me! There's something on your mind," he observed slyly.
"We're getting reckless. I know things have finally started becoming a little easier for us, but I don't believe this is the end. You haven't prepared enough this time, what if-"
"Esmeralda, please." He raised up his hand to silence her. Though she always had her heart in the right place, he felt that her newfound motherly instincts have made her paranoid and antsy. Although, it is true he packed less weapons in order to make more room for trade goods. "I understand what you're saying, completely. I do! But, making such accusations, tsk tsk. Don't you think the safety of our people is important to me?"
"Of course, but-"
"Would I venture out if I thought we were unprepared? It is my neck out there too."
"I know, just-"
"I work hard making all the preparations, yet I'm still getting the impression that you don't trust me. And it hurts my feelings so," he said dramatically.
Esmeralda looked at him for a moment before heaving a sigh, signaling her defeat. "I trust you."
"Then you have absolutely nothing to worry about!" He gave an assuring smile. "And now it's time to hit the trails. Give my regards to the captain and, aha! To your little bun in the oven," he gave a wink before his face was concealed by his monkly hood. And soon, the caravan was rolling on out of the city and onwards South.
A/N: Personally, I feel this chapter a tad boring. But I'm not sure how to spice it up without making it too long or completely rewriting it. What do you think? I only hope you can forgive me and keep reading, because it does get more exciting (at least I think so).
Feedback is MUCH appreciated. If there's anything you liked, didn't like, loved, hated, let me know!
P.S.Esmeralda is pregnant with Zephyr, her son with Phoebus in the second movie. Not that I really like the sequal (it's traaaaash), I'm just trying to be true to the movieverse.