WOW! Hi! So I have no idea how to start this off other than...hi? O.k. actually, I'm not new to the whole "FanFic" world...it's just been about 4 years since I've written ANYTHING! If can't tell I'm nervous because back then my chars. were like...uber sues .So I'm worried about how this will turn out...I tried to make sure that my creation isn't sue but I suppose that's up to y'all to decide...

So after 2 months of deletion and recreation, I finally have something of a prologue I suppose...first chapter...something...

Another note: Our favorite canon characters are only mentioned in the first chapter, just as a forward. I didn't really want them to meet right away, it seemed to cliche to me xD Also, before you review read comments at the bottom...it may save you from saying something that was already explained ._.

Here's the full summary BTW FF cut it off after my French-i-ness

La culpabilité, l'espoir, confiance, foi, la vie- La culpabilité, it was there from her choices. L'espoir, she prayed it wasn't just a fairy tale. Confiance, is so hard to believe in. Foi, had done nothing for her in the past. La Vie, is it truly worth it? A traveling pair make it to Paris, only wanting to leave as soon as they arrive. However, when one of pair ends up in debt to dweller of the city, they stay against their will and better judgment, will it come back to haunt them? Based on Disney adaption, although their will be references to the book and musical/opera. ((Hunchback of Notre Dame/Notre Dame de Paris, rated T for violence, language, intoxication and sexual references and innuendos))

Disclaimer: I do not own anything...seriously...

Paris, city of lovers, capital of France, and holder of the Cathedral, Notre Dame, it is also home to many inhibitors, such as the Captain of the Guard, the famous bell ringer of Notre Dame, and more widely known, the gypsies. There was a struggle not to long ago between those in charge and the gypsies, eventually involving the entire city. All of France knows of the struggle, many citizens of France go to Paris unbelieving, or many just to see if the city has gone under. Others don't even bother going anymore, saying that the gypsy population has grown and they don't want to deal with such people. Whether it is true or not, the population of Paris has grown ever since those fateful days in January.

Marie looked at the streets of Paris, half expecting them to be made of gold from the way people talk about the city. Wonderful, inviting, comforting, large, busy, warm, thrilling, frightening, she could go on. Rolling her eyes she tugged on her ragged cloak, she on the other hand, did not want to be here. She hated large cities, too much, commotion, from rambunctious teens horsing around or simply the common folk shopping, either way, it was horrid.

She wanted to get in and out, no point in lingering somewhere she didn't want to be. However, there was an important factor that kept her in the city, she was flat broke. It left a bad taste in her mouth whenever she thought of the fact. To have nothing but the very clothes on your back, it was a little difficult to swallow. Frowning she took a step forward, what does she have to lose, she thought bitterly, smirking a bit at her own sarcasm.

As she figured, it was busy, whether it was the gypsies in the streets or the people fulfilling their professions, or maybe it was the fact that the bells were ringing, causing birds everywhere to flee in freight. Making sure she wasn't hit by any of the birds' remains as they fluttered away, she continued on. Dancers, singers, musical instruments, and rather interesting caravans paraded the city.

Gypsies was the only thought in her mind. They were often in streets of towns and cities wherever she went, never giving up, never ceasing their dances and songs. It was a bit annoying. Of course she was justified to think so, she reasoned, for she was one of sorts. However, at least from what she saw, she had a different attitude from the others. She hated what she was. Why couldn't she be the one with a permanent home, where she was fed every night? Why couldn't she have clothes made with fine material instead of the rags she wore? Why?

She hated it. She hated being a beggar, hated travelling, begging for money simply for some bread. She felt a tug on her hand. She looked down to a small girl, no older than 10 who smiled up at her. Marie stared at for a bit and then smiled. This was her sister, who had been with her through her travels, and, although at times she refused to admit it, she used her young sister as her way of money. Play the pity card she would tell herself.

"How long will we be here?" the younger of the two asked

"Not long, we will hopefully leave by tomorrow,"

"Really," the younger asked "why do we have to go so soon?" her eyes transfixed on a multi-colored caravan. Marie noticed, gave a look of disapproval, and tugged her sister along.

"Because I don't trust this city," she stated, pulling her sister along

"You say that about every place we go to," she whined with a pout. The older sighed annoyed,

"With good reason, no one can be trusted except for us, I trust you and you trust me,"

"But-"

"End of discussion" she said sternly and her sister looked down sadly. Did they really have to leave such a pretty city so soon? "Come now, lets try to get some money," she picked up her younger sister.

If it wasn't hard enough trying to keep herself alive, she had her younger sister to worry about. She often wished that she was alone, so she didn't have to worry about her sister, or that a family would take pity on the young one and take her in. Selfish she knew, but she couldn't help it, she gave everything to her sister, in hopes that she would survive, no child deserved this fate.

Passing by a tall girl dancing with a goat she found a spot against a wall, making sure there was enough space between her and other people. There were rare times where she was thankful for her tattered clothing, it made it easier to look as pitiful as she felt. The hood of her cloak covered her head and darkened her face, making her looking older than she really was. Her hair, which was more than neglected, stuck out of her hood, long, messy, tangled, and dirty. She really did look pitiful, she gave a bitter chuckle.

While she was covered, her sister, in contrast, had no cloak. The young girl, had blemished skin with dark circles under her eyes, and was too skinny, due to malnutrition. She had on a simple dress that was sloppily sewn together with multiple pieces of fabric; her own hair was tied up in a ribbon. It was truly a tragedy to look at this poor girl.

"Penny for the child," Marie spoke in a seemingly weak voice as she held out a make shift bag, small, but enough to hold some money. "Penny for the child!" she said as the citizens of Paris walked by. Some gave money, some ignored her. Nothing she wasn't use to.

Did she feel bad for acting this way, deceiving people for money? At times, but in the end, she realized it was a necessity. For you see what women her age normally do, such as dance, sing, or playing some sort of instrument, she could not. She was too weak and clumsy to dance, her voice was too raspy for singing, and she was afraid something would die if she played an instrument.

She considered being a prostitute for about a day; however, she couldn't bring herself to do it. The alibi was that she didn't want her sister to become one herself, the main reason was because she couldn't even bring herself to take off an article of clothing in front of someone else, let alone have sex with them. So the only thing left to do was beg. It was slow, boring, and often didn't help, but at least she and her sister were still alive.

Many people passed her that day, from people no better off than her, to guards, one with a gold colored armor, who even placed in an extra coin for her, to Marie's surprise, to the aristocrats of the city, who stuck up their noses to her.

"No compassion," she muttered rolling her eyes and didn't dwell on the matter. By the end of the day she and her sister had made a small profit, enough to get some food and leave. She placed the money in a small bag and hid it within her cloak.

It was twilight when she finally decided that no one else was going to give them a second look.

"Are you ready to sleep?" she put down her sister and moved her arms around trying to stop them from being sore. Her sister yawned and nodded. After Marie figured that she moved her arms enough she took her sisters hand.

"Well…I suppose we should find a place to sleep for the night," she said looking around "I guess…the docks." She stated. She heard there were docks near Notre Dame, so she reasoned if she started for the Cathedral, she would eventually find the docks.

Eventually indeed, after a bit of searching she sat under the docks and against the wall, with her sister in her lap, who had practically fallen asleep through their searching. She looked down and sighed, she was tired of her life. She gave up praying long ago after realizing praying wasn't going to get her out of the situation she was in.

Marie leaned against the wall, needing back support. She groaned, leaning against a hard wall apparently didn't help. She was stuck too; her sister had taken the opportunity to make herself comfortable. Marie gave an annoyed noise,

"The things I do for this child," she groaned and closed her eyes. At least she would be leaving in the morning. She smirked at the irony, the very places she hates, are the places that are keeping her and her sister alive… "I suppose, that's what life is, isn't it," she muttered to herself again and fell asleep…

I tried to come up with a better ending, unfortunately I just wrote a research paper on all the symbols on Lord of the Flies and how evil will either win or destroy you in the process (lovely I know) and I ending up disproving the concept of love in my Philosophy essay today...so I'm burnt out ....

Comments:

1. Marie- Yes her name, rather plain isn't it. Now before anyone says it's not a Rom name...I never stated she was Gypsy (notice the capital "G"), I just stated that she was a beggar and she traveled a lot (yes I know cemantics). I actually changed her name, originally it was Maria (still pronounced Marie because the French apparently don't like pronouncing the last letter of their words...don't believe me? Go look up Les Cloches on that lovely site where we watch stupid movies xD) but it was really stupid because of certain things that happen later on, basically I had to come the realization that women couldn't read or write in the 15th century |P...And yes, she does have a tendancy to talk to herself when she feels no one is aware of her presense.

2. "one with a gold colored armor, who even placed in an extra coin for her, to Marie's surprise," yes that is Phoebus I gave him the biggest cameo of the chapter because this boy doesn't get enough love!! I swear, everyone is obsessed with Clopin, not that I don't like him, in fact his hyperness is awesome, it's just Phoebus needs love too! Ya, I kinda stole the scene from the move, but I kinda didn't, this will probably be the only time that actually happens though.

3. Not sure if there was anything else so comment with critique! I'm open to sujestions and all sorts of that stuff...I love that stuff, I don't take it personally, unless you say like "damn you suck" because thats just mean :P