Title: To Be Found Innocent is the Worst Crime of All

Author: Saiko

Rating: T

Chapter One: A Gypsy Cannot Survive Behind Stone Walls

"Clopin Trouillefou, you have hereby been found guilty of the crime of treason against your own people," the voice rang out through the darkened cave. They were outside of Paris, outside his wonderful Court of Miracles, and he no longer felt at peace. Though, if he were honest with himself, he had not felt at peace for many months. He shifted his hazel eyes up to where the executioner stood, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Those that sought protection in Paris were given to the guards, is that wrong?" the man on the stage called to the crowd of rag-covered Gypsies.

The yells of affirmation came back with such a loud roar that it made Clopin's head hurt. These were his people who were staring at him, jeering him, and calling for his death. He couldn't deny the claims, and that was what kept him quiet. He deserved this, every inch of it. He hung his regal head.

"See, no denial comes from his lips!" the man upon the stage called out, swinging his open palm in a wild motion towards the fallen king. "And for this, he will hang!"



The cheers died out to the King of Thune's ears as he suddenly realized what people meant when they said that a dying man would see his life flash before his eyes, though in his case, sadly, the happiness and joy that had made up the majority of his colourful career eluded him. Nothing came about having to do with the anything except the past several months. It hurt, but nevertheless, it came.

It was a chilly day in November and winter was quickly setting upon the citizens of Paris. The wind had picked up, causing the urchins if the street to fall around each other in a huddle. Fires had leapt up around the streets for warming small hands as the sun set in the sky.

A lone figure was out walking, sliding silently through shadows and watching everything around him. It was too quiet for as early as the night was and it truly wasn't blistering cold yet. The first snow still was yet to fall. The King of Thunes let a sigh escape his lips as his boots shuffled. His darkened clothing, compared to his performance attire, helped a bit with the shadows, but he did not blend entirely.

He slowed his step as he heard two pairs of small feet shuffling quickly after him. He turned to see four large, round eyes, blue and grey in colour, peering up at him. They were two Gypsy children from the Court of Miracles who had not returned yet. "Clopin!" they called out in unison.

"Shouldn't you both be home by now? It's far past time."

"They've been following us all afternoon," the one with blue eyes said in hushed tones, glancing behind his shoulder every couple of words.

"We couldn't get away," the other agreed. "We tried every escape route we know and there was a new soldier at every turn."

"Just like the other children," the first said, a frightened tone to his voice.



Clopin stood in thought a moment and then patted each boy on the head. "Run along. I'll take care of our little guard friends."

"Thank you!" the children said together and rushed off.

As soon as they left two guards rounded the corner and it looked as if they might be the only ones that were following. Clopin, from the shadows, stuck one long leg out to trip the first one and watched as they tripped over the other one. They rolled for what would have been several strides and fell in a heap. The Gypsy King stepped out with a wide grin on his thin face and a laugh bursting forth from his lips. "Hello there, dear soldiers, what might you be up to at this hour. Chasing small children to give nightmares, perhaps?"

"Gypsy scum!" one cried out, jumping to his feet. Clopin easily maneuvered out of his way and ducked the second one, pulling a knife from his boot all in one swift motion. The knife was held to one thick neck and a boot was against the other.

"Now, why is it that you are chasing the children from my clan?"

"Little thieves are all they are."

"Little thieves, perhaps, but still little either which way. Shouldn't you be picking on someone your own size?" He had his mouth open to say something else, but a clanging sound echoed through the street. An ache began to spread through his head as he tried to figure out where it had come from and he sank into darkness as the realization hit: these two were only a distraction.

The cell came into focus slowly and the Gypsy King put a hand to his head. His gloves had been ripped off and his shirt was torn. His boots were gone as well, leaving his feet bare and everything ached. No weapons on him, no stashed knives. He'd come from a friend's tavern and had not expected to be jumped. True, children had been turning up missing, but he didn't expect to get to the bottom of it so quickly.

"Well now," a stale voice met his ears as he came to a little more to. Claude Frollo's horrid face came into focus, leaning over the thin man and was sneering. "Have I truly gotten my hands around the famed king of the Gypsies?"

"Clopin Trouillefou, certainly not at your service." The slap across the face that was already sore spread the hurt through his head. Clopin curled involuntarily into a ball on the dank floor.

"Insolent fool!" Frollo yelled, kicking Clopin firmly in the ribs. A cold smile spread across his lips as the younger man groaned. "You will tell me what it is that you know."

"I don't know anything."

"You know everything!" the judge hissed. "Tell me where your precious Court is, and you shall be freed with little pain."

"Why, shouldn't the court be in the palace, and we're underneath your Palace of Justice!" Clopin forced a laugh. The laugh was cut short as Frollo hauled him up with surprising strength and another guard caught a hold of him. He was dragged down the corridor with no words and shackled up in another room.

"Your Court of Miracles," Frollo pressed.

"No such thing," the King answered. The blow from the whip was swift and hurtful. It stung his chest and he cringed.

"Do not lie to me, Gypsy," Frollo growled out. "I know that your court exists, and I know it is here in Paris. Tell me where."

"I won't tell you a damn thing!" Clopin yelled, fire in his eyes. "You could kill me and never know. Good luck to you, Monsieur, but you have failed in this little endeavor."

A dark look crossed the judge's face and he turned his back on the captured man. "Continue your job, sir, and I will be back in an hour."

Clopin watched the tall man walk from the torture room and felt the chains pull a little tighter around his wrists. "You're going to talk, Gypsy, you may want to learn that quickly." The lashes came one after the other. After the first ten he hardly felt anything and he faded into darkness.

Things came into focus slowly and Clopin realized he was still strung up. His arms ached, his chest ached, and he felt weak from blood loss. The door opened with a creak that hurt his battered head and he cringed, regretting the reaction as soon as it happened.

"Are you willing to speak, Trouillefou?" Frollo's voice echoed in his ears.

"Not on your life," the king answered with a forced smile on his bloody lips. A cough shook his battered body and he shook. "You can't make me talk. I will never betray my people."

"Bring them in," Frollo called and a guard disappeared. A moment later he led in a group of Gypsy children. Each face matched those of the children that had disappeared. "Recognize them? I think you've been missing them."

There was a pause as the children began struggling on their restraints. "Clopin!" "We thought we'd never see anyone again!" "He's been cruel, Clopin!" "They've beaten us!" "They've starved us!" "They've tried to make us talk!" "But we haven't told them anything, Clopin!" Their voices all blended into one, but it brought tears to the King of Thune's eyes.

"It's alright," he promised, forcing himself not to openly sob. "We'll get you out of here."

"There's only one way," Frollo answered him with a sly smile that sent chills up his captive's spine. "If you give us the way to capture all of the Gypsies, I will allow the children to live. As it is, by the end of the week, I will have every child. You cannot keep children hidden forever."

"You will kill them to get the rest of us!"

"They're only Gypsies," Frollo answered with a small shrug. "I will take them one by one until you give them up, and I will burn each of them in front of Notre Dame until you find it in your heart to release your secrets."

"Even if I gave it to you, you wouldn't have all of us!" Clopin yelled. "We're scattered."

"Then gather them."

"Take me instead!" Clopin begged.

"I want all of you."

"And if I do this, how do I know that you will not kill them anyway?"

"I will make up a contract, Gypsy king, and you and I will both sign it. We will be bound by the law, under the eyes of God."

A shudder passed through Clopin and he hung his head. He heard the brave shouts of the children and he broke. Tears flooded down his cheeks and he sobbed. "All right. Just let them go."

"Not until you deliver them."

"Swear you won't touch a hair on their heads!" he screamed, a new energy flooding his body. It hurt but he didn't care. "Swear it! On your life, on God, I don't give a damn! Just swear it!"

Frollo was taken aback by the desperation in the chained man's eyes. "Very well," he murmured.

All the energy was now expended and he collapsed against the chains. "And I must be given time. For them not to suspect, it will take time."

"Also done. Will you sign?"

"I will."

Clopin was released from his chains and fell to the floor with a thud. A quill was placed in his hand and he signed his name blindly. Even if he was told to read it, he wouldn't have understood it all. He was perfectly literate, but it was written in a way that only those with full education could have had a chance of understanding. Tears stained the paper and he pushed himself up. "I need a moment with them, before you take them away. Give me that at least."

A thin hand waved and Frollo left the Gypsy and the children alone. They gathered around their king, comforting and embracing him. He was their hero. Many of them knew him as their only hope, the one who had stolen them from death's grip upon the streets and given them a life with their people. Each of their voices blended and he tried to hush them gently. "Now now, you know I will get you out of this."

"Mommy and Papa," one little girl sniffed.

"They'll be alright, I promise. I'll find some way around all of this, don't worry about that. I will have to, but I need all of you to be brave. Do I have your words?"

"Always," they agreed. That was all Clopin needed before he collapsed into darkness, pain overtaking his body. When he next opened his eyes he was on the cold streets, propped in an alley and left to do his work that had been set out. He broke down and cried.