Title: Story of a Gypsy King

Summary: Life is never easy for the King of the Truands, but a well-timed joke and the finest girl in France never fails to bring him joy in this dark little world. A slightly twisted version of the Hunchback story with our favourite jester as the main character. Rated M for lemon and graphic depictions of torture in later chapters. Clopin/Esmeralda.

Characters: Clopin Trouillefou, La Esmeralda (pairing)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance

A little info before you read: I know what you're thinking, what clotpole is releasing a Hunchback story 22 years after the Disney film came out? I get it, but it's such a great film and still one of my favourites, and Clopin is one of my favourite characters despite his limited screen time. I recently rewatched the amazing Musical which inspired parts of this story, so if you haven't watched the musical version of the performance, I strongly suggest you watch it before reading this as there are a LOT of references (you can find it here - watch?v=A1cG5_zrOFM&t=3777s). It is largely referenced from the Musical and Disney film rather than the book, and though it is still the Hunchback story it is completely from Clopin's point of view. There will be a lot of Clopin/Esmeralda, they are my secret guilty pleasure ship and there just isn't enough fanfiction for them. It's heartbreaking. Future chapters will delve into Clopin's past and have some very graphic depictions of torture and war. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and feel free to leave a review! Feedback is appreciated!

This chapter is just a little introduction to everything that is happening, so prepare for a lot of exposition, and is set about a week before the Feast of Fools.

Notes and French Translations are at the end, enjoy!


CHAPTER ONE: Distractions and Painkillers

It was often said, in these dark times, that the King should always keep his word.

This was rarely true for the King of France. It seemed almost comical that one as impressionable and repulsive as Louis XI could be nicknamed 'the Prudent'. Perhaps it was an inside joke shared between his advisors and court members, very much like Alfonso 'the Slobberer'. Nevertheless, this joke, however funny it might be for the King's people, was not one that the Romani people found humorous.

The King had not been seen in public for the past year, suffering from all sorts of problems and diseases that he had only brought on himself. In his dotage, he had become easier to manipulate, particularly by his greedy advisors and the members of the Church, who wished nothing more than to see taxes rise and the Rom to be thrown from the streets, despite the earlier promises that they were to be left alone and the taxes lowered. Consequently, it had become apparent that King's rarely kept their word, no matter what people may say.

Clopin Trouillefou, however, was not one of these Kings.

Nor was he a King, really. It was an honorary title given to him by the people who followed him, but it was a title he cherished and bore proudly. He had been the Leader of the Truands since a very young age, and he wanted to continue to lead them far into his prime. They were more than his people, they were his family, his friends, his blood. Despite the constant danger and neverending fight happening all around them, Clopin continued to give his people hope, continued to find them food and water where there was none, continued to keep them safe underneath the treacherous streets of Paris. There seemed to be no obstacle he couldn't overcome, no problem so big he couldn't fix, almost godlike to the Romani who followed him. Clopin would continue to let them think this way, no matter how much he struggled to maintain their existence. Ignorance was bliss in this dark little world. They would cling to even the smallest strand of hope with their lives, despite how fragile it may truly be, and Clopin didn't want to admit it but it was becoming more fragile by the minute. These last few days had shown that.

The past week had been an anthropomorphised version of the place that the Pagans referred to as Hell. It had kicked off with an ambush on a Gypsy caravan that had been delivering the food and water supplies to the Court, leaving barely a crumb behind for the already starving people waiting for the delivery. A fight had broken out in the town square, between a few members of Clopin's troupe and some of the King's Guard, which had left two men gravely injured and one boy with a few broken bones. The King had issued out orders through his spokesmen that the Gypsies were no longer allowed to set up camp in areas that were usually deemed safe, meaning all the Rom living outside of the Court had been forced to return there, just as the ration supply had gone down. Finally, to top it all of, a large group of soldiers had chased one of the younger girls through the town and back to the graveyard where the Court's entrance resided and had come uncomfortably close to finding it. The Gypsy King had been returning when the event occurred, conveniently, and had managed to pull the child out of harms way before they could find her, but the fact they had come so close to discovering them made his hair stand on end.

Clopin sat forward, elbows leaning on knees and long, pitch black hair falling into his face, from his position at the side of his bed. The sigh he let out was long and tired, and with it came the large cloud of smoke from the cigarette he'd been puffing on. He regarded it attentively in his hand, watching as loose ash fell from the tip, and groaned. This was no use at all. He'd assumed a quiet night of drinking and smoking would help tide his mind over or, at the very least, help him sleep, but it seemed to be doing quite the opposite. His thoughts were racing and he felt far too awake to even consider sleeping, despite the tiredness that pushed behind his eyes. It had been a long day, but then again, every day recently had felt that way. There was no reason why it felt this way, it wasn't like their situation hadn't always been this bad, but lately, it had been taking a larger toll on him than usual. Perhaps it was just because of his exhaustion; being the Gypsy King was a lot of work, after all, he had to give himself some credit.

He cast his gaze away from the cigarette and towards the bottle of Coteaux du Layon standing on the night table, and felt his mouth become dry, feeling a sudden urge to wash down the tobacco with the wine. He reached over and took the neck of it, bringing it to his lips and letting out an aggravated groan when no liquid came. Empty. Another sigh, he threw it carelessly back onto the table, not even remotely caring when he heard it roll off the surface and smash on the ground. Nothing was seeming to help. He felt reluctant to address that that had been his second bottle of the night, worried it would only drag him down into this bottomless depression further. The fact he was still sober was distressing enough already, he half wondered if it was possible to become immune to the effects of alcohol since it seemed to be having little effect on him.

He ran long fingers through his beard thoughtfully. He wished he was drunk. He wanted to be able to sing and mess around and forget his problems, let the wine do the thinking for him for once and get himself into all sorts of trouble. He wanted to listen to the music that his people played so beautifully, allow himself to get lost in it, dance carelessly along to the rhythm and join in with their songs. He wanted to be with his people, to sit with them and share his stories, and listen to their own tales and laugh with them, but even the thought of seeing them at this time was more than he could bear. They would have questions. When could they feed their families again? When could they leave and go back to their homes? When would they be safe?

Clopin didn't have the answers; he was in the dark, just as they were. It was becoming almost impossible to guarantee his people their safety. He had briefly considered moving them deeper into the catacombs that the Court resided in, but the potential danger and weeks of scouting to find a secure enough location was riskier than just staying put. There was a chance that they wouldn't even find anywhere, and the action would just prove to be a waste of valuable time and resources. Not to mention it would require everyone to pack up their things and move their homes, and he was sure everyone was far too tired and hungry for that hassle at the moment.

He took another long drag from the cigarette, swallowing down the smoke and feeling the slight burn in his throat before he exhaled it out once again through his nose. His eyelids flickered briefly, at least he could find momentary relief when the tobacco went through his system before it disappeared again just as quickly as it had come. He didn't doubt he would be in trouble if anyone found out he'd been smoking, again, especially if a certain raven-haired Gypsy was the one to discover him. Esmeralda would likely give him a stern scolding if she saw him, or perhaps even a smack across the back of the head, the fiery devil that she was.

The corners of his mouth slowly turned up into a smile as he allowed his mind to finally drift away from the week's problems and focus solely on her instead. La Esmeralda. She was probably one of the only people who would know exactly how to take his mind off a situation like this one (if he wasn't too stubborn to tell her what the situation was in the first place). He despised anyone seeing him struggle, even her, the woman he trusted and loved more than anything in the monde. Oh yes, he loved her, more than he was ever willing to admit out loud. Clopin was rarely a coward, in fact, he was probably one of the most reckless of the Romani people, risking life and limb to strike out against the King and his cronies - whether with speeches of protest, or swords and confrontation. However, when it came to words of affection and feelings, his fearless nature fled him, leaving him weak and yellow-bellied. Butterflies fluttered around in his stomach at the sight of her, threatening to push through his throat when he tried desperately to express the emotions he felt towards her, but knowing that only rejection awaited him made him bite his tongue. It was true that they had spent many an evening together, experimented with one another and engaged in the occasional night of meaningless pleasure - but that was all it ever was to Esmeralda. He was her stress relief, as she thought she was his, but it was always so much more to him. He craved the feeling of her skin beneath his fingertips, her angelic voice whispering in his ear, her lips on his neck. She was the epitome of perfection in his eyes, and as much as he longed to tell her, his thoughts would always remain thoughts. Clopin was a coward, but at least he could admit it.

A sudden realisation dawned on him that he hadn't seen her for the past few days, no wonder she had been on his mind. It was strange, they usually spent almost every day together, or tried to see each other as much as they could. It could be forgiven; they had both been busy recently, with everything going on between the King and the ration depletion, and the upcoming Feast of Fools (Clopin's favourite time of year). There was a lot to prepare for, which, unfortunately, left little time for socialising. He made a mental note to try and see her soon, after all, as much as he would pretend to be as casual as possible, he had missed her terribly.

He pushed himself up slowly from the bed, hearing bones shift and pop as he did, unable to help the grimace that came across his face when he heard them. He was too young for his bones to be aching this much, or at least he'd like to think. Choosing not to worry about it, he crossed to the wardrobe in the corner of his room, the wooden doors opening with a creak as he peered inside to see what his wine supply looked like now. Three bottles stood in a row underneath his clothes and other garments. He considered them for a long while, before shutting the door once again, deciding a third bottle wasn't going to change anything. The second had clearly had no effect, seeing as he was still walking in a straight line. He began to drift back to the bed and suddenly paused as he heard the sound of footstep echoing on the steps outside of his tent. He looked to the entrance just as the fly sheet opened, and Esmeralda herself appeared there as if she'd heard his thoughts and come running.

Her black curls fell perfectly down her body to her lower back, pushed out of her face with a purple headband, despite a few loose strands. She wore a dress that fit her figure perfectly, a white top that was pushed off her shoulders, revealing the smooth skin there and slight cleavage, along with a blue corset and multi-coloured skirt. Her feet were bare, though she had golden bangles around her ankles and wrists, as well as a single gold hoop in her ear that matched his own. His breath caught at her entrance, his eyes looking over her entire figure, taking in every single detail as if trying to burn her into his memory. It was almost fascinating to him that just her mere presence was enough to sweep him off his feet.

The feeling was quickly chased away, however, when his eyes landed on the stern expression on her face. He was in trouble.

''Esmeralda! I wasn't expecting you, cherie.'' He exclaimed, joyfully, quick to hide the expression of stress and exhaustion that had been there before with a large beam. He felt his eye twitch slightly when there was no response, and half wondered what had her so riled before he watched her gaze move down to his hand where he held the cigarette between two fingers. He inwardly cringed and took a discreet step back towards the nightstand where the ashtray resided, reaching to stump it out as if it would make her magically forget about it. The attempt was short-lived when she marched over to him and grabbed his wrist before he could do so. He let out a chuckle, glancing up at her. ''Ah, foiled again.'' He smiled up at her innocently, batting his eyelids. Needless to say, she didn't look impressed.

''Oh please, Clo. You know I can smell it from a mile away?'' She said sternly, letting go of his wrist once again and folding her arms. He took the liberty of spreading his own arms wide and shrugging his shoulders dramatically, staying jovial.

''In that case, there's no point in stopping either.'' He teased, as he popped the cigarette back into his mouth, which just earnt another eye roll from the lady in front of him. The motion of doing so meant that she spotted the discarded wine bottles beside his nightstand, becoming especially concerned when she noticed one of them had been smashed to pieces.

''You've.. had a lot to drink as well. What's on your mind?'' She asked, with a simple head tilt, lowering herself to sit on the edge of his bed. She was no fool, she knew him well enough to know when he was trying to get his mind off something, and alcohol and smoking were his favourite painkillers. She could read him like her favourite novel. Even still, he only shrugged his shoulders once again, nonchalant as ever.

''I'm just relaxing.'' He murmured, joining her on the bed, orientating his body towards her. ''So, what can I do for the most beautiful lady in France?''

''Flattery isn't going to get you out of this one.''

''So it has before?''

''Clopin.'' She protested, trying desperately to sound stern but the smirk that crept onto her face was inexorable, as was the blush from the way he admired her for it. She had to remind herself to focus, he was only trying to get out of the conversation, and unfortunately for him, she wasn't going to let it slide that easily. ''We both know something is troubling you. You've been off for days; you're not eating, you're not sleeping. You've been sneaking out in the night, and I haven't seen you at the tavern for days, and I know you love-''

''I guess I wasn't in the mood.'' He interrupted, his tone more serious than before, and she suddenly got the impression she may have been pushing the line. She bit the inside of her lip, not wanting to push him, but she couldn't allow him to carry on the way he had been. They needed their leader, and what use would he be if he was too weak to do anything because of starvation or sleep deprivation? Something needed to be done, even if it meant him getting angry with her. Her gaze flicked back up to him as he took the cigarette back between his lips and drew in a large breath, the muscles in his back relaxing as he breathed in the smoke, eyes closed as he savoured the second's bliss. The whole tent smelt of smoke, she'd been able to pick it up from the bottom of the steps that led up to his platform, it was impossible to tell how many he'd gotten through.

''How many of those have you had?'' She asked carefully.

''Today?''

''Yes.''

''Fifteen.'' He said casually, barely even acknowledging her when he spoke. The long silence that stretched out afterwards confused him and his curiosity got the better of him, opening his eyes again to see why she wasn't responding. The expression he saw on her face was both amusing and unsettling, and he reached over to the ashtray in a split moment's decision, stumping out the cigarette hurriedly. ''And I guess that was my last one for today.''

''For today? You're not having anymore for the rest of the week!'' She decided, leaning over and snatching the packet from him, much to his dismay.

''Esme, that's hardly fair.'' He pouted, sitting up to reach for them. Esmeralda apparently had other things in mind, however, as she suddenly pulled the hem of her top out slightly after a moment's consideration and pushing the packet down her top and into her bra. Of all the things he had been expecting her to do with the packet, this had not been one of them. It took him a second to register what he happened, his eyes wide and his cheeks a lovely pink colour, whilst she just watched him with the smuggest expression she could sunder. His eyes locked onto hers again, narrowing them and planting a smirk on his face. ''How naughty of you, mon cher. Are you going to let me retrieve them?''

''If you tell me what's wrong.'' She informed, in a more serious tone, which was surprising for a girl who had a cigarette packet between her breasts. He growled softly at her change of subject, before leaning back and rubbing his temples.

''You're not going to let this slide, are you?''

''Nope.''

''It's not even that big of a deal.''

''Just tell me.'' She said, exasperated, which he quickly noted and nodded, giving in with a long sigh.

''Everything seems to be going wrong this week.'' He huffed quietly, not looking at her, focusing his attention instead on a loose piece of fabric on his sleeve. She paused, watching him silently, hoping he would elaborate. ''Rations are running low, the Court is becoming overcrowded, the Soldiers are on high alert.. they even came close to the entrance yesterday. They checked almost every grave, stayed for hours. They were so close to finding us.'' He scowled, and Esmeralda suddenly noticed how tense he was. It was clear all over his body, his hunched shoulders and stiff neck, the way he clenched his fists in frustration and closed his eyes. She wished she could take it all away for him, allow him to be at peace, even just for a few hours. She reached her hand over and laid it on top of his, trying to uncurl his fingers.

''They've come close a lot of times before, you know. They didn't find us then, and they won't now. You've never let it get to you before, why are you so worried?'' She asked softly, which was only met with a groan of aggravation.

''It's different now,'' he muttered, ''everyone is finally settled with their families. We have a working society thriving down here and now even the King knows about it. We've never settled so well into a place before, not even the old Court. It's perfect. If we have to leave, it's just back to square one.'' He glanced up at her, the tiredness showing in his eyes. ''I can't put everyone through that again.''

''Clo...'' She sighed softly, watching him fondly. ''Everyone knows how hard you work to keep us safe. We all admire you for it. If we really did have to leave again, every single one of us would follow you to the end of the world. There is no sanctuary without you.'' She said, turning his hand to hers and squeezing it gently. He watched the action, pausing momentarily to brush his thumb across the back of her hand, before looking away and pulling his own back again.

''I just don't want to let them down.'' He said, his voice heavy, as he drew himself up from the bed and moved towards the tent's fly, stepping outside without warning. His sudden move surprised her, gathering herself and hurrying after him, opening the flaps to see him lean against one of the wooden poles, looking down at the Court below, his expression solemn. She smiled at him sadly, her heart aching for him, as she moved over to look down beside him. The people below were happily going about their lives, oblivious to the dangers and problems that only Clopin knew they were facing. People moved about their tents like every other day, drinking and dancing and sharing stories, the sound of music and singing reaching their ears from every direction. Children ran around the settlements, playing and having fun amongst the caravans and the large stage that Clopin had put up for doing puppet shows. The entire Court hummed with life, positive energy and emotion coming from every angle. It was enough to lift both their spirits again. Esmeralda felt the warm feeling build inside her upon watching it all, and when she looked up to Clopin beside her, she knew he felt the same. The same fond smile graced his features as he admired his life's work, the beautiful underground city that he had risked life and limb to build. One that could be easily destroyed with just one tiny mistake, any small slip up that could lead the Guards right to their hiding place. It was no wonder he was so afraid to lose it all. She sighed softly, linking her arm with his and leaning her head against his shoulder.

''Every single person here owes you their life.'' She whispered quietly, admiring him. ''You are our King. You could never let us down, despite what you may think.'' She reassured, leaning up onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek, before returning her head to his shoulder. He smiled widely, leaning his own head against hers and closing his eyes tiredly, content.

''Thank you, cherie.'' He said, sighing softly. ''You always know what to say. Perhaps I'm an idiot for not consulting you sooner.''

''You are.'' She agreed, and he let out a huff of breath which could have sounded, to anyone who didn't know him, like annoyance, but Esmeralda knew it was laughter.

''Rude.'' He mumbled in response, feigning offence, despite the smirk that showed on his face. She hummed softly.

''Mm, and what are you going to do about it?''

''I don't think you want to know.''

''Oh, I do.'' She drawled sarcastically, giving him a look that almost dared him to try anything. He saw the challenge in her eyes, and narrowed his own, before moving forward in one swift movement and grabbing her around the waist without warning and hoisting her over his shoulder. She let out a small shriek as her feet were lifted from the ground, and she was suddenly staring at the back of his shirt, arms reaching out to clutch around his middle for support. ''What are you doing?! Clopin Trouillefou, put me down this instant!'' She demanded, hitting his back with a fist and kicking her legs, even as Clopin held them down.

''I apologise, mademoiselle, but you should know by now that I'm not one to turn down a challenge. And besides, you insulted your King, punishment is in order.'' He said matter-of-factly, and she could hear the mischevious tone in his voice, to the point where she wanted to kick him and wipe the smirk off his face, but she played along.

''You are right as always, my liege.'' She quipped back, just as playfully as him. ''Perhaps the punishment would be more entertaining in... private?'' She suggested subtly, taking advantage of her position against his back to lightly scrape her nails under the material of his shirt, grazing against the skin, sending a shiver all the way down his spine.

''You know me too well, mon amour.'' He managed, though his words trembled with the feeling of her nails against his skin. He spun her around in his arms until he had one arm under her knees and the other on her back, smirking down at her in his arms as she wrapped her own around his neck. She collected herself for a moment, always surprised when he showed the strength he had, a strength that didn't seem possible for a man so lithe. He moved them back inside the tent quickly before any prying eyes could see them, taking her over to the bed and proceeding to drop her mercilessly down onto it. She fell against it, sprawled out against the covers, gazing up at him admiringly, beckoning him towards her with a finger. He complied without hesitation, kneeling against the end of the bed as one of his hands traced along her leg, pulling her skirt up as he did. She shuddered underneath the touch, his fingers moving lazily over her stomach and up to her bosom, accentuating her curves. His hand stilled as the same mischief flashed across his expression and he pulled back the hem of her top and retrieved the packet of cigarettes she had shoved down there earlier. Esmeralda had to blink a few times to process what had just happened, dumbfounded.

''Ah, thank you, my dear.'' He said, smug, standing again in a swift movement to put them back in his drawers. She let out an audible groan, shaking her head with either annoyance or fondness, she couldn't really tell which. Even still, she would teach him to ignore her like that. She pulled herself up from the bed and pulled at the strings of her corset, allowing them to unknot and fall away, her top and skirt following closely behind. In no less than a few seconds, every inch of her honey coloured skin was on show to him. She walked towards him slowly, the golden bangles on her ankles giving away the movement and causing Clopin to finally turn and look at her.

He let out a short gasp, blinking feverishly as he took in the sight of flesh and beauty before him. She had a figure that most girls would kill for; the world's finest sculptor could not have fashioned her curvilinear waist and chest any better. She was not ashamed to admit she was extremely confident in her body, she danced every day and ate well, and it had paid off for the better part. Besides a few scars from past fights and a rather large birthmark that took up half of her thigh, which Clopin only believed made her more perfect, she was rather self-assured. Enough to be able to strip down in front of him, apparently. His eyes were still glued to her, mouth hung open slightly, feeling as if he were in a trance. Though he'd seen her this way countless times before, her beauty still made his legs shake and his mouth dry, entranced by her.

''Esme-''

''Hush.'' She interrupted, as she stopped in front of him, face to face. ''You need a distraction, and I'm providing one. If you'll allow me?'' She whispered suggestively, practically pressing him up against the drawers. He looked momentarily breathless, and for a second she wondered if she'd broken him. She only smiled, taking his stunned silence as approval and pressed her lips to his without hesitation, kissing him softly and allowing her arms to slide around his neck. There were a few more seconds of stunned silence before he finally responded, hands finding her waist as orientated his whole body into the kiss. Managing to find his handle again, he turned them around swiftly, sitting her against the drawers, pressing himself closer to her, wanting to be in control of the situation. She allowed him the dominance, moaning softly at it, fingers finding the buttons of his clothes and undoing them with speed, wanting it off. She struggled with the last few, and Clopin simply yanked it over his head instead after an impatient groan.

''Desperate, are we?'' She smirked, pulling away to continue the kisses down his neck, nibbling against his pulse. He moaned and shivered, giddy from the sensation of her lips against his skin, every inch of him feeling raw and sensitive.

''Tais-toi.'' He mumbled, shakily, flinching as her fingers found his belt and slipped her hand into his trousers, wrapping around him. He hissed behind grit teeth and pressed into her hand needily, slowly allowing himself to fall into the sensation, no longer aware of anything except Esmeralda and the feeling of her fingers around his hardening length. He knew full well that it probably should have taken a lot more to get him to this stage, but he was proving to be overly sensitive, he hadn't been touched this way in a while. Esmeralda was clearly surprised, opening her mouth to point it out before he cut her off before a sound had even left her lips. ''Tais-toi.'' He said once again, firmer this time.

''I didn't say anything.'' She protested, but it didn't stop her from continuing anyway. ''How long exactly has it been for you?''

''Too long.''

''When was the last time?'' She pried further. When he offered no response, she started to move her hand away from his trousers, which was followed by him grabbing her wrist to keep it there, whimpering. ''Tell me.'' She demanded again, brushing her fingers against the head of his length in encouragement, eliciting a beautiful, thick moan from him.

''Three months ago. When we-''

''Wait.'' She cut him off, actually pulling away this time, causing him to groan in agony, restraining the urge to just take her against the drawer set. ''Are you saying you haven't had sex since the last time we spent the night together?'' She asked, in disbelief, to which he eventually nodded in response. ''No wonder you're so desperate. How come you haven't-''

''I just haven't had the time.'' He dismissed, sounding sheepish. He knew he was lying through his teeth, but he didn't even remotely care. This was definitely not the time for this conversation.

''That is not an excuse. I've seen you sit in taverns for hours with women who are all over you. You could have your pick of the whole Court, maybe even some of the men.'' She giggled, and Clopin just rolled his eyes in response. She joked about his sexuality frequently, mostly because she saw how uninterested he seemed to be in the women he courted. She knew this wasn't really the case, however, she just liked to tease him. She was partially right though, he probably could have his pick of anyone in the Court. He was the King, after all, plenty of women would come running at the thought of being Queen.

But none of them would be Esmeralda.

''So what have you been doing this whole time?'' She asked, pulling him from his thoughts again, suddenly looking abashed.

''Can we talk about this later?'' He practically begged, the tightness of his trousers starting to become extremely uncomfortable.

''Oh, I know.'' She said, her expression smug, watching him with arched brows. ''You've been touching yourself, haven't you?''

''I have not-''

''Yes you have, I can see it all over your face.'' She laughs, having to bite her lip when she saw the glare he was giving her. ''Oh please, it's only natural. I could just never imagine you doing something like that.'' She slid her hand down his stomach again and into his trousers, fingers wrapping around him once more, his eyelids flickering in bliss.

''Es-''

''Show me how you like it.'' She whispered, locking onto his eyes. He looked surprised at the request, opening his dry mouth instantly to protest, but she placed her finger against his lips before he could. ''Sh, don't speak, just show me.'' She demanded, and Clopin swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in his throat. It was only ever her that could reduce him to this blubbering mess, and he loved it. Her confident nature was one of the many things he found so unbelievably sexy about her, her ability to stay self-assured in all her actions. He also knew he wasn't going to get out of doing it; she always got her own way, especially with him. He dared not even think about the consequences if he denied her.

Clopin's hand moved from her waist and found her own in his trousers, intertwining their fingers to wrap around the length of himself. He didn't hesitate, not sure where he'd found the confidence, but he moved her hand along with his own in a firm and fast pace, losing his breath almost instantly and tilting his head back with a groan. Esmeralda took advantage of this and leaned forwards to place several kisses on his neck, and, knowing he liked a bit of pain, made sure to add a few bites here and there. This, with her perfect rhythm along his length, left him a mess.

''But you-'' He tried, words failing him.

''Never mind me.'' She whispered back softly. ''We're just focusing on you, for now.'' She spoke the last words with dark intention, and Clopin suddenly came to the understanding that she had a lot more planned than he was aware of. His hand moved to grip the drawers instead, now that Es had picked up on the pace, using them to keep him upright in fear of collapsing. His breathing was becoming heavier by the second and he was mumbling incoherently.

''Faster, now.'' She made out through the mumbles, his demand making her shiver, as she obeyed silently. Clopin was practically thrusting himself into her hand, unable to help it, finding himself tipping slowly over the edge.

''Esme... I can't hold on much longer.'' He gritted out, the pleasure intense to the point where white spots were beginning to fill up his vision and he was so close, but he didn't want it to be over already.

''Then don't.''

''But I want you-''

''And you will have me.'' She reassured. ''We're not even close to being done yet. We have three whole months to make up for.'' She giggled softly, placing a kiss on his earlobe. His head tilted in pleasure and with that he came hard, shuddering in front of her as his legs threatened to give in, the intensity of his release almost knocking him over. He let out a shaky gasp, moaning in pure ecstasy, his forehead leaning against hers as he tried to catch his breath. Barely seconds passed before he suddenly returned his lips to her own, kissing her hungrily, finding his strength again as he picked her up from the drawers and sat her on his waist. She made a hum of approval as he did, arms around his waist as she let him walk her them back towards the bed before he pressed her down against it once more. She gasped in surprise and glee, feeling the exhilaration building as he took her wrists and pinned them above her head.

''My turn.'' He whispered darkly, and the tone of his voice caused Esmeralda to shudder beneath him, allowing him to take control. He kissed down her neck and body, over her breasts, his long hair and beard brushing against her skin and tickling her ever so slightly. He worshipped every inch of her body with his hands and lips, tracing every curve and line, and she smiled to herself, feeling like some kind of Goddess.

Esmeralda's eyes and hands began to wander his own body curiously as if wondering if it had changed in the past few months. Besides from a few new nicks and scratches here and there, no doubt from fights between the King's Guard, he looked more or less the same. Plenty of scars from old battle injuries covered the entirety of his chest and torso, and there were marks on his wrists where bounds had been tightly wrapped around them. None of them made him feel any kind of insecurity, however, and he had no reason to let them. He was, by all accounts, beautiful. The only thing he really despised, and she knew he did, was the branded mark of a cross just above his hip bone. It was a mark he had been branded with in his youth and wasn't something he liked to think about, and so he quite often pretended it wasn't there. She respected this, the memory of that day was painful for the both of them.

Clopin looked up at her again and she quickly moved her gaze away from it and met his eyes, giving him a small and reassuring smile. He took this as confirmation that she was ready, and moved his hands to his trousers to pull the remainder of them away, so when he pressed himself to her again, there was nothing but skin between them. Clopin savoured the moment, just being with her like this was the best feeling in the world, nothing else compared to having her pressed against him this way. He wanted it to last forever, to sear it into his brain so he could never forget. But, of course, like every time, it would eventually come to an end. His confidence momentarily faltered as the dreaded feeling rose in his chest, and he took a breath to push it down, pushing them aside for the time being. She was here with him now, that's what mattered. It's what he needed.

''Take me, my King.'' She suddenly whispered beneath him, causing his thoughts to be chased away as she encouraged him, not sure how much longer she could wait for him. ''I am yours, have me.'' She pleaded, legs shifting to wrap around him and press their bodies closer together. Clopin shivered at the words she spoke, his mind racing, entertaining the possibility that maybe this was what she needed too.

He wasted no more time, grabbing her hips with singular purpose as he pushed himself against her, shaking just from being so close. He sunk himself into her slowly, hissing in relief as he did, as Esmeralda's entire body pulsed up towards him, a shuddering moans escaping her lips as he pushed in all the way. He leant over her, their foreheads touching, pressed together perfectly as Clopin started to move into her at a steady pace, the pair moaning in unison out of desperation for each other.

As he began to move, Clopin suddenly couldn't contain all the sensations inside of him, every fibre of his being feeling elevated and his mind free from all the week's problems and focused completely on her. How was it possible for one person to make everything okay again? Nothing mattered anymore when he was with her; he didn't care about the King and his Soldiers, he didn't care about all the potential danger around them, he only cared about her and the joy she brought him. Even if it was all completely one-sided, these few nights of pleasure and intimacy were enough to keep him going for however long he needed to. He could do anything, as long as she was by his side.

She moaned beneath him beautifully, her head thrown back against the pillows and her eyes screwed so tightly shut that her nose crinkled in a positively adorable manner. She pressed fingers into his back, encouraging him to pick up his pace, not hesitating to drag her nails along his skin and cause his mind to go blank. He complied silently, building up a rapid speed, and it wasn't long before Esmeralda was practically screaming for the whole Court to hear as Clopin finally tipped her over the edge.

''Oh, God! Clopin!-'' Es cried, her back arched to the point where she looked as she might break. Clopin followed suit only moments later, his whole body shaking in pleasure as he let out a guttural moan.

''Esme, fuck...'' He muttered, not even aware he'd cursed. They both collapsed against other, their breathing heavy, feeling the warmth of each other. Esmeralda basked quietly in the afterglow of it all, a fine sheen of sweat covering her body, unruly hair spread across the pillows. Clopin leaned up tiredly and managed a small smirk, his head tilting in fondness.

''You know, for an entity you don't actually believe in, you use God's name a lot when you're with me.'' He chuckled deeply, nothing like his usual high pitched laugh, much warmer. It made Esmeralda laugh too, and she had to push the hair out of her face to look up at him.

''And you hardly ever curse like that, except when you're with me.'' She pointed out, to which he nodded.

''Touche, mon cher.'' He smiled, slumping down beside her on the bed, exhaustion finally beginning to creep up on him. She leant up onto her side, looking down at him and drawing lazy patterns on his chest.

''Do you feel any better now?''

''Better than ever.'' He reassured, lifting a hand to brush some hair behind her ear fondly. She blushed gently, inclining her face into his touch and kissing the palm of his hand.

''I certainly enjoyed myself.'' She teased softly, and he grinned in response, feeling pride wash over him before he could stop himself. She considered him briefly, before seeming to come to some sort of decision in her head, and leant down and pressed her lips to his softly. He blinked, the kiss taking him off guard, but he certainly didn't complain. He returned it lovingly and missed the softness of her lips as soon as she pulled away. She lay her head against his chest, cuddling close to him as Clopin pulled the sheets over them both.

''Can I stay here tonight?'' She whispered quietly, eyes already closed, and probably ready to stay even if he said no - which wasn't going to happen.

''Of course, my dear. You needn't even ask.'' He smiled tiredly, closing his own eyes as he leant his head against hers. Without another world, they were both fast asleep in each other's embrace, content and safe from the world outside. For now, at least.


Author's Notes:

- I've tried to stick to historical accuracy as much as possible, but if there are a few mistakes I'm sorry, but I did try my best to research! As for the cigarettes, I know they weren't really a thing in 1482, but I've always had an image of Clopin being a chain smoker.

- When I originally wrote this it was purely for fun and I didn't think anyone was ever going to read it, so any mistakes are my own fault and I apologise.

- Clopin is 25 and Esmeralda is 20 in this story. I know Clopin is supposed to be a lot older, but considering the age expectancy in the 1400's was 35, then technically 25 is old. Besides, I was basing him off of the Musical version's Clopin, who looks only a little older than Esmeralda.

- Clopin is borderline depressed, though he is not aware of it, nor is anyone else.

- Clopin and Esmeralda are basically, for lack of better terminology, fuck buddies. It just so happens that Clopin is secretly in love with Esmeralda.

- Clopin and the other Romani have only been set up in the Court for about 5/4 years, and not as long as they have been in the film.

French Translations (According to Google Translate):

- Monde - World

- Cherie - Sweetheart

- Mon Cher - My dear

- Mademoiselle - Miss

- Mon amour - My love

- Tais-toi - Shut up

Thank you for reading!