A/N: Greetings, readers! I have yet another story for you. I know, I know. Why don't you finish one of the other ones you have started... Because this is a sequel! That's why! XD Okay, so I actually started this one before I finished translating The Lost and Found Manuscript, and this is what happens after she's finished writing that manuscript. So, if you haven't read that one, I suggest you do, just for the fun of it. Even though it's all the way over in the Phantom of the Opera section. I know a short cut. :D Click on my name, and it'll take you to all the stories I have posted. Don't worry, it's not necessary to read the other story to read this one, but it does help to understand Jessica and the references she makes. Anyways, enough blabbering! Enjoy!
The day had been wonderful. A bit cloudy, but it was pretty normal for spring, so Jessica hadn't thought anything about it when she left the house that day to go in to Paris. She had chosen a light muslin blouse for such a beautiful day, and, for the sake of the citizens of Paris, she wore a long, flowing blue skirt-minus the hoop and bustle that was the style, but she hated so much-and a blue stomacher in lieu of a full restrictive corset. The corsets were okay for occasional formal use, but, as she would often say if asked why she didn't wear them, "they are a major pain in the ass to put on and take off, and I can't move or breathe with one on." She was nicely plump, with a full chest that nicely bounced as she walked. She had let her mid-back length blond hair ripple down her back in soft waves today, her long bangs tucked behind her ears, framing her dancing blue eyes and a smile that could light up the room when she was enjoying herself.
This fine day, Jessica was on her way back home from a day of shopping in Paris. It wasn't a big trip. Just picking up some tea, a ream of paper, and some new ink and pens. But it was the little things like that that kept her happy. Writing supplies, pretty jewelry, and new weapons always brought a smile to her face. As she walked, though, the clouds above her decided to rain on her parade. A light drizzle started, and she let out a small growl, hurrying just a bit to try and beat the rain home. Her new paper getting soaked wasn't what she had in mind for the afternoon, and she was still a good hour away from home, unfortunately. Maybe, if she tried, she could make it home before the rain really got going. No such luck. Twenty minutes later, she had to resort to covering her basket with part of her long skirt to walk faster and try to keep the rain off her supplies. In another ten minutes, it was total downpour, and the cover of the forest wasn't keeping too much water off of her. Mud sucked at her boots and threatened to slip her feet out from under her with almost every step, yet she hurried on. What was a little mud if it meant getting out of the rain and saving her paper? A rock in the path covered in slick mud settled everything, though. Her foot landed on it and immediately slipped off of it again, sending her falling back, clutching her basket to her with one arm and the other out to try to catch herself. The first thing she hit was her head on a low branch that she had avoided the first time through, and then a root when she hit the ground. She was unconscious after that, dully thinking that her paper was going to be ruined.
The first thing out of her mouth upon waking was a groan and a muttered "Fuck..." as she held her pounding head. Slowly she rolled over onto her knees, holding a hand over her eyes to block out the now-shining sun. Once the pain had been there long enough for her to push it aside a bit and think about something else, she looked around for her tea and paper. Thankfully, the relatively expensive purchase had stayed close by her and in the basket somehow. She frowned though. There was snow on the ground. And the basket and its contents were otherwise dry. Her hand flew to her hair and then to her clothes. She was completely dry, too, but for the snow.
How long had she been out? She had been completely soaked when she hit her head... Jessica shook her head gently and got up, gathering up her basket and straightening her clothing. It must have all turned to snow and ice while she was out. It was still early spring. It was possible.
Her clothes were clean, too. No mud. She paused for a moment, the possibilities rotating through her mind. "...Oh, hell, no," she finally said to herself. "They wouldn't do that to me again. Hell. No." She pushed the terrible thought that she had once more slipped through time out of her mind. Even once through time was a near impossibility. But twice? Seriously, what were the possibilities? She kept walking home, wanting to just get back to the familiar, but she kept an eye out for anything that seemed out of place, that nagging feeling gnawing at the back of her mind about the time travel again. Nothing quite seemed right, though she knew the forest and its path back to her house better than she knew most of Paris. She couldn't quite pin down what was off with the forest, but something was definitely off.
Or it was her headache. But she was pretty sure it was the forest. She walked in the snow carefully for a half hour, then forty minutes, then fifty... Something was definitely not right. She should have been home by now. Once she reached the stream, she knew she had gone too far. This part of the stream was a good half hour away from the house. She frowned and looked back, indecisive for a moment and dreading the truth. Fate wouldn't really send her back in time a second time, would it? She almost passed by the clearing that her house should have sat in for a second time. Spinning in a slow circle, her mouth hung open in disbelief. "Oh, god...it really happened again..." She sat down in the clearing, her eyes beginning to water. 'What am I supposed to do now?' was all she could think. 'I barely got things together again. A couple friends, an okay life, an actual house to live in...Oh god...I don't even know when I am anymore...' She started to cry at the thought of that.
She managed to calm down after a few minutes, telling herself that now was not the time to cry. Now was the time she had to stay focused and find out what was still in this time that she had known to be in her previous time. "Well, the stream and the clearing are still here..." she said to herself, getting up and looking around. "I saw three willow trees by the stream, so either this is much later, or much earlier in time." Walking out towards where she had previously gathered both wild and planted fruits and vegetables, she made a circuit back towards the stream, a small outcropping that had housed a cave, and back to her own personal garden and the clearing. In the strawberry patch, she paused to brush away the light snow on her plants to make sure they were still there, shaking out her hands from time to time and regretting that she didn't have any gloves along. "Smaller strawberry patch. Those blackberry bushes didn't use to be here. I don't see any of my planted stuff. Hey! A blueberry patch!" She had to grin at that one. "Yep, three willow trees instead of one. Good thing to know if I need painkillers. I bet I'm gonna end up with a headache before any of this is close to over... Hm, weird. The cave's not there anymore. I've got to be back in time. I don't see why anyone would want to fill in a really nice cave..." Standing back in the middle of her clearing, she looked around with another sigh. "No house, no dungeon, no cave, no planted veggies. Three willow trees, strawberry patch, blueberry patch, blackberry bushes, and a clearing that looks like no one comes out here much. If I wanted, I could probably go back in to town, buy a couple more fruits and vegetables and some camping stuff, replant out here and just camp until I get something else more permanent set up..." She nodded with a small smile. "Yeah, I could do that. What's a little bit of camping? Dad used to take us camping all the time, and I've built stuff before. Yeah. I can do this." A shiver ran through her as a breeze went through the clearing. "Note to self, also pick up a cloak and gloves...and probably a blanket..." She gave a firm nod and, with one final look around the clearing, headed back out of the forest and back to Paris with her basket on her arm again and her hands folded under her arms until they got warm again. She wasn't about to leave her tea and writing supplies behind, no matter how unused the clearing looked. Back in time even more, paper and ink was even harder to come by, and she wasn't chancing anything. Thankfully, she still had some of her money left over from her first trip. Saving her monthly allowance from Erik had really paid off this time.
Jessica was utterly confused when she made it back to Paris. Flags were strung between buildings, shops were all closed up, and everyone was out on the streets. It was a festival like she hadn't seen since she had been to a Renaissance Faire in her own time. The whole city seemed to have turned out for it. She lightly fingered the silver snake ring she always wore on her left hand as she drifted amongst the people. Erik had bought it for her a few years back as a replacement for the one she had lost on her first journey through time. She found the snake coiled about her finger comforting, and to her, it had always brought her luck. It helped her relax to know that a few things were still the same, even though she knew none of the faces here, and she knew her home and life were gone again.
Elsewhere, a figure was sitting on a rooftop, admiring his handiwork; a magnificent festival and even more magnificent fire. Sitting on the city's rooftops always allowed him the greatest view of his miniature kingdom. So there was a morality play in the Palace of Justice? Let the priests and actors make fools of themselves, it was the city's turn for frivolity. The crowd below began to call for the naming of the King, the annual Ugliest Face in Paris! Clopin laughed, shimmying down the side of the building to join in. Of course, his face wasn't nearly the Ugliest of all Paris...quite the opposite in fact. But like he was going to miss a chance to be the center of attention? Never!
He hurried to the platform that had been set up for the contest and took his place in line, laughing at some of the masks to be taken off. The more out-landish the mask, the least likely that it was that they'd win! It was simple calculation. He merely had his magenta mask to hide his face and Esmeralda already knew that he would be taking it off himself.
Esmeralda loudly announced the contest, drawing the crowd closer with her graceful gestures. She pulled off the first mask, the man underneath made a ridiculous face to the loud booing of the crowd. Jessica gave a small smile as she watched contestant after contestant get kicked off stage. These faces were horrible! Pulling out the corners of the mouth, rolling over the eyelids and seeing only the whites of the eyes, tongues hanging out of mouths. Really! They looked like children playing at "I'm scarier than you." Her eyes passed over the other contestants quickly. There was something familiar about this scene, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it... When it was Clopin's turn, he ripped his mask away and contorted his face into something he had practiced doing for weeks—something from the nightmares of children and men, a demonic face that could haunt their minds. He hoped. Jessica bit her lip to keep from laughing. He was definitely the best one so far, but not the worst she'd ever seen. She'd still have to give that prize to Erik, the Opera Ghost. Clopin somersaulted backwards to the back of the stage, keeping an eye on everyone else remaining. Just a few more, and they were quickly booted off the stage. The last one really was hideous. Esmeralda reached for the mask, tugged—and backed away with a scream.
"That's no mask!"
"It's his face!"
"Hideous!"
The crowd began to panic, but Jessica couldn't help but grin. This one was the best. She pumped her fist in the air.
"Crown him!" she called. "Crown him! Crown him!"
Clopin leaped forward as he heard the feminine chanting to crown the man. He had to say; he agreed!
"Ladies and gentlemen, don't panic! We asked for the ugliest face in Paris and here he is! Quasimodo, the Hunchback of Notre Dame!" He clapped the boy on the back as Esmeralda crowned him. The crowd began to cheer, their moods already shifting in his favor. He sent a wink to the young woman who had been chanting, eyes roving over her lingeringly as she walked off, before leaping off to encourage the crowd in their celebrations.
Jessica didn't think anything of it at first, just being happy that the poor guy had gotten the crown. As she started to walk off, though, it finally hit her. Quasimodo. She hung her head slightly, mouthing a silent "fuck..." He was from way back in the 1400s. That meant she was more than 400 years in the past. And it looked like just in time to write another book. How the hell was she going to pull this one off? At least last time the Trap Door Lover had taken her in and provided for her needs when she couldn't stay at the House on the Lake. Maybe she could find some rum or something nearby, she mused sullenly, wandering off through the crowd.
"To the feast!" Clopin called to the crowd, his crowd starting to herd regular Parisians to the place where it had been set up. "Come one! Come all!"
The blond gave a small smile and followed the crowd. Might as well, she thought. Not like I have anything else to do or go. The feasting tables were full of roasted meats, fresh breads, and all things in season and ripe, and wine flowed free as water. Jessica gave a small chuckle. With all these people around, it felt like she was back on her college campus again. She almost looked around for the Pavilion that everyone tended to gather around when the cafeteria served a picnic dinner. After filling her plate with bread and fruit and a bit of meat, she took a goblet of wine and moved off to find a place to sit, eat, and watch the people.
Clopin took a goblet up and downed it quickly, grinning about. Once more, a success. Not even that Judge would be able to ruin this day. He looked through the crowd, his eyes lighting on the girl from before. The girl with the long blonde hair and blue eyes and the strange clothes...he wondered who she was; as King, he knew nearly every pretty girl in Paris. She was new. He looked about swiftly, quickly guessing what she wanted. He ducked through the crowd, kicking several people off of a bench and lounging on it until she walked by.
"Need a place to sit, cher?"
She stopped for a moment, considering, then gave a small smile, moving to sit on the bench as well. "Sure. As long as you don't mind." The thoughts quickly clicked through her head, trying to place him exactly. He was on the stage before, she knew that, and he had uttered those famous words that all Disney addicts knew by heart. He had to be Clopin Trouillefou.
Clopin chuckled, leaning back against a pillar, grinning at her. "Why would I mind? I always welcome the company of a lovely woman."
"I thank you," she said coolly, turning her attention out to watch the people around her as she ate slowly. It was best not to encourage a womanizer like him.
"You are new about here, are you not?" He inquired politely. "After all, I have never seen you before."
She gave a small chuckle, not looking at him. "That depends on your definition of new. I have been in Paris before, though not for some time. And I've been around for a while now, but haven't really had a chance to be out and about."
Clopin chuckled as well. "Now, I know everything that happens in my city...and I haven't seen you before."
"Sure you have," she said, not being able to help the little grin and smart ass remark, glancing over at him. "I saw you looking at me when I called out to crown Quasimodo. You saw me then. Other than that, I don't come in to town much at all."
Clopin burst out laughing. She had a mouth on her! Admirable! "Just for the festivals? You'd think I'd spot a lovely miss if she can into town more than once."
"You'd think. But I rarely come in to town. Normally, I have someone else come in for me." She lifted the goblet to her lips, sipping the wine as she watched the people.
"But why? You experience so little that way."
"Because I grew up in the city, and I like the quiet." She took another small drink. "And it makes me want to kill less people if I don't have to deal with them." She gave a small amused grin, mostly to herself.
He nodded, conceding. "Agreed. Although, it is still rather fun." He laughed. "Staying outside the city? In this weather?"
She gave a small nod. "Probably. It's not that cold, though. I should be fine."
Clopin shook his head. "Nonsense! A young lady, staying outside the city in this Parisian winter? Unthinkable!" His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, and he was grinning like he had just made the cleverest plan in the world. "We shall make a tent for you in the Court."
Jessica gave a small smile, glancing back at him. It sounded wonderful...but she had to remember that his attentions would wander to another woman soon enough. She wasn't that special. "That sounds nice...but you don't have to."
Clopin shook his head. "Non, I insist. We Gypsies may not have the best reputations, but we have the biggest hearts. You will stay with us at the Court, at least for the winter, if that is your wish."
She nodded again. "That sounds wonderful...It will be quite some time before the weather will let me do what I wish anyways..." Damn weather, freezing the ground.
Clopin clapped his hands. "Then it is settled! You will stay with us!"
She gave a small giggle, munching on a piece of fruit. "You know, you just invited a strange woman to your secret community, and you don't even know her name..."
He took her free hand and planted a very light kiss to the back of it. "Then, might I inquire as to your name, fair flower?"
Jessica paused for half a second before answering, "Rose." She liked that name, and that was how she always referred to herself when she wanted to put herself into a story. It was almost second nature to answer to that name now. Clopin's eyes sparkled as he nodded.
"Rose...magnificent. I am Clopin Trouillefou, KING of the Gypsies." He made an elegant bow to her, winking with a grin. She gave another small giggle, grinning.
"I know. But it is nice to be properly introduced."
Clopin's eyes sparkled mischievously. "So you know me already? But why am I surprised, indeed, I am very well known."
"I have heard stories, most of which come from one of two sources. I trust them not to make things up. Or, make up too much that would greatly alter the story from its true form."
Clopin nodded, grinning. "I am often the subject of tales and stories. I do hope they painted me in a...pleasing light?"
She chuckled. "Hardly, if ever. Excuse me. I think I'm going to walk for a while." Rose got up and walked away, humming to herself. Clopin laughed, watching her go. She reminded him so much of that kid. He briefly wondered where she was.
Rose sang quietly as she walked, "Superstar, where you from? How's it going? I know you got a clue what'cher doing. You can play brand new to all the other chicks out here, but I know what you are, what you are, baby..."
A woman's voice started to sing, echoing the blond's song. "Look at you, gettin' more than just a re-up. Baby, you got all the puppets with their strings up. Fakin' like a good one, but I call 'em like I see 'em. I know what you are, what you are, baby..."
Rose froze, looking around with a scared glance. She'd lost it. She'd finally lost it. And it only took her ten years in another century.
Shame-ed begging: So? What do you think? -does an antsy dance- I was working with frodoschick to get Clopin's character down, and I think I integrated things nicely from how we had it written originally, and I think I fixed everything...But I really, really, really want to know what you think! So please push the review button for me. Pretty please?