Well, it's me again. Lately I've been sticking to short stories and one-shots, but I've been writing this fic for a while, and finally I decided to post it. It takes place sort of as if the Hunchback of Notre Dame never happened. Esmerelda and Quasi are good friends, Frollo's alive, Phoebus is a mole for the Court of Miracles, Trinity and Clopin are having issues with each other. I'm really sorry if Clopin seems a little OOC in the future chapters, but it's really hard to get a joker to be serious and apologetic and keep him in character. Well, enjoy!
Disclaimer: None of these characters, other than Trinity, are my own. They belong to Victor Hugo or Disney (come on, I'm sure they made up some of the characters for the movie).
Chapter One
The moon rose over a sleeping Paris. The spires of the Notre Dame rose high into the sky, dominating the horizon. Under the gentle glow of the moon a grey mare crossed the bridge over the Seine, her hooves muffled by pieces of cloth tied loosely around her ankles. Her rider wore a dark green cloak, the hood pulled up to hide the face beneath. They entered a graveyard, and the rider dismounted, tying the reins to a cross and pulling an apple from beneath the cloak. As the mare lipped the apple and took it with a crunch, the cloaked figure moved forward, approaching a tomb that lay on its back. The hooded head moved as the person underneath glanced around, and delicate hands darted out from the sleeves to pull aside one of the stone slabs blocking the entrance. The person leapt nimbly inside and pulled the slab back into place.
The steps were lit by a torch on either side at the bottom so that the light didn't escape the tomb. As the person descended the stone stairs the hem of a light green skirt could be seen under the deep green of the cloak. The hem was immersed a second later in the ankle-deep sewage that filled the tomb.
The cloaked person had walked for no more than five minutes when a voice called out, "Halt!" The person looked up sharply as torches flared to life above, and people dressed in black clothes marked as skeletons loomed against the stone ceiling. A man jumped and flipped through the air before landing in the sewage. He was tall and incredibly skinny, with a long nose set in a tanned face. His straight black hair was cropped to his chin, and he had a black goatee. His eyes were like black coals that gleamed wickedly under dark brows; a half-mask surrounded them, darkpurple lined with gold. From his left ear hung a gold hoop. In the long fingers of one hand he twirled a long candle, raising one eyebrow. "Who goes?" he asked, his voice echoed by a soft French accent. He had been nearly invisible against the stone in his black joker's suit.
The delicate hands came up to lower the dark hood. Freed from their prison, layered auburn curls tumbled down the slim neck. Bright blue eyes looked at the joker calmly from a pale, delicate face with a small nose and red lips. No longer hidden by the shadow of the hood, a small birthmark in the shape of a crescent moon gleamed in the hollow of her throat. When she smiled, dimples appeared on either side of her mouth. A gold chain that had been hidden under the cloak was now revealed to show a small gold bell that tinkled with every movement. "Hello, Clopin," she said.
For a moment, the joker seemed startled. He nearly dropped the candle, but then let out a delighted peal of laughter. "Trinity!" he said. "I didn't think you'd return so soon!"
"I hope it won't be a problem," she said.
"Not at all," he said, his dark eyes dancing. He bowed, extending his arm, and she smiled and rested her hand on his elbow. "I hope you don't mind the mess," he said. She shook her head and said, "You were always so bad at cleaning up after yourself."
After a few moments of walking they emerged onto broad stairs that led into a large room. Along the walls were curtained-off doorways, and a few dogs dozed on ratty pillows that had been scattered about the room. Upon Clopin and Trinity arriving in the room a few lifted their heads, sniffed, and returned to their sleep.
"You must have luck on your side," he said cheerfully. "There's a spare room to the right. See the purple curtain? You can stay there."
"Thank you," she said. He grinned and waved his hand, and she turned and walked towards the doorway, ducking under the purple curtain.
Inside, it was larger than she would have guessed. There was a couch, a few large pillows, and a table, as well as a few candles set on the table that threw light around the room once they were lit. She took off her cloak and draped it over one of the pillows, undressing to her single petticoat and her blouse before rolling onto the couch and pulling the sheet up over her shoulders. As an afterthought, she sat up and blew out the candles, throwing the room into darkness. She reached up to touch the gold bell at her throat, hearing it tinkle, and smiled.
She woke when the curtain over her door rustled. She opened her eyes to see a young girl with dark hair in two pigtails setting a tray down on the table, beside the candles. The girl glanced at her. Her dark eyes widened, and she hurried out.
Trinity sat up and pulled on her skirt and her bodice, tying it up the front before sitting down once again. She pulled the table towards her and began to eat what was on the plate.
The curtain opened again, and the light in the room strengthened. Clopin poked his head in and said, "Can I come in?" His face seemed strange without the usual half-mask.
She nodded and swallowed the mouthful of bread. "Sit down," she said. As he dropped onto a pillow, she said, "Thank you again for being able to put me up at such short notice."
He shrugged his thin shoulders and said, "You can stay here any time." A silence fell between them. She reached over to pick up the cup of juice, and the bell on her necklace tinkled. His dark eyes were drawn there, to her throat, and he said, "You still wear it?"
"I never take it off," she said quietly, and sipped the juice. Another silence filled up the space between them, but this one was slightly tense.
"Trinity--"
"No," she said. "Clopin, I don't want to talk about it. Not right now." His dark eyes were concerned as he looked at her, and she said, "We will do it eventually. I just can't right now." He sighed and said, "Very well."
"So," she said, abruptly changing the subject, "what's going on here?"
His face darkened momentarily. His cheery air seemed to have completely evaporated. "Frollo is almost in complete control of the city," he said. "He is bent on wiping us out. Already, he has burned two." She winced and said, "For what?"
"Witchcraft, he says," Clopin answered.
She sat forward and said, "Clopin, I can help you, if you like. He doesn't know what I look like, and he doesn't know that I'm allied with you."
Immediately he said, "I don't want you to endanger yourself. Frollo is a dangerous man, Trinity."
She shrugged and sat back, crossing one slim leg over the other. "Alright," she said. "But if you ever need a favour, just ask me." She gave him a quick smile in which he glimpsed pain and love, but then it was gone just as quickly as he noticed it.
"How is he?" she asked after a moment of silence.
Clopin shrugged his thin shoulders and said, "He's as well as he can be. Esmerelda goes to see him often."
"Remind me to thank her," she said. "It really means a lot to me."