Hey! This actually got some hits! So here's the next update, and yes, this IS going to be a Clopin/OC story, for those who were wondering *cough EverlastingFlower96 cough cough*
Enjoy :)
I woke to the smell of freshly baked bread. Groaning, I pressed a hand over my eyes to block out the bright light coming from somewhere above me. Eventually, I was able to sit up and look around.
I found myself in the middle of a cobblestone road. People walked up and down it, pushing carts or pulling children along behind them. I gazed up at a sign above me that read Boulangerie… was that "bakery" in French?
Where the heck am I? ...What happened?
I remembered the episode with the scarf and gasped. I wasn't with my classmates anymore, that was for sure. The antique store had disappeared, and everything around me was different- for instance, just a few yards away, a small bridge crested over a creek. That hadn't been there before! A woman on the other side of it opened her window shutters and proceeded to dump a bucket of dirty water out onto the street. Okay, maybe I wasn't that keen on the customs back home, but I was pretty sure NOBODY dumped their laundry water on the street where I came from…
Suddenly, the memory of the image of Notre Dame came to me- the one I'd seen in the portal. I remembered why the scene in the blue light had seemed so familiar now- it was because I had recently been thinking about the movie. Now I remembered the cityscape, the two towers of the cathedral jutting into the sky…wait.
I did a double-take to my right.
No way…
Those very same two towers in the movie… were right in front of me. No more than a hundred yards away. They stood there like majestic heralds, throwing down a huge shadow over all the roads and buildings that huddled beneath them.
This isn't possible!
That scarf, the vortex… was I…?
"Hey, MOVE it, peasant!" A voice barked from behind me. I whirled around, still on the ground, to find a man with a huge cart trying to get by me. His face was flushed and he looked as if he was ready to barrel me down if I didn't move immediately. "Some people have JOBS, you know! We can't all lay around block the road!"
"Sorry," I frowned at him, standing. I ran to the side of the street and gazed up at the bakery. If this was truly Paris… then what time was it? I guess a better way to put that question would be… WHEN was it? The towers down the street- the cathedral of Notre Dame- looked as pristine and unmarred by nature as it had in the movie…
Is it possible that I could be…IN the Hunchback of Notre Dame movie? …You're CRAZY!
This couldn't be happening. I WASN'T in the movie- that would be… hundreds of years ago! That scarf, it had all been a dream and I…
"Oh, no…"
I looked down at myself and found that my regular clothes had disappeared. I wasn't naked, thank God, but I was wearing… French… clothing.
This is not happening.
I was garbed in a tan-colored shirt underneath a slightly darker tunic that went to just below my knees. A pair of stockings stretched over my calves, leading to simple, dark brown shoes. TOO simple. I looked like... well, a peasant, to put it plainly. Maybe even a beggar. My hair was a mess, no doubt.
What kind of sick trick IS this?
I was still in denial as I started hovering down the road, hoping to find some help, or maybe my lost sanity. Charming French architecture rose up all around me- none as dwarfing as the cathedral, of course, but quaint and beautiful in its own way. After a few minutes, I came upon a group of women in front of a shop. I didn't care if they thought I was intrusive- I needed to know when it was.
"Um, excuse me."
They turned towards me with questioning, almost judgmental stares. The women were clothed in garments that very noticeably contrasted mine, causing me to believe that I had just interrupted a bunch of rich, proud girls in the middle of their morning shopping spree.
"Uh… do you happen to know what day it is today?"I asked, trying to inflect sweetness into my voice.
"…Why, it's the fourth!" One of them exclaimed, surprised. "Didn't you know?" She looked at me as if I had grown two extra heads.
I shook my one head silently, baffled. The fourth of WHAT?
"In only two days, the Festival of Fools is to be held!" Another one put in. "Everybody's preparing for it!"
"You DO know about the Festival, don't you, jeune fille?" The third inquired.
"Yes! Yes, I know what that is!" I blurted out, wanting to avoid looking any more like a stranger than I already did. I did know, though- I knew exactly what they were talking about. It was January fourth, two days before…
"Oh. Good," She waved a hand, laughing. "Then we shall not have to report you," The other two joined in, their laughter echoing down the street as they promptly forgot about me and turned into another shop next door.
"The Festival of Fools…" I whispered. Something was definantly not right here. If I WAS in the movie… Okay, so maybe I was beginning to finally accept that's what had happened… Anyway, if this WAS Notre Dame… what year was it right now? How could I be sure that I hadn't been thrown into the bustling streets of Paris on the wrong year? The Festival likely happened EVERY year, didn't it? So then… that didn't mean this was really the time everything took place in the movie…
My head started to hurt with confusion. I needed to find someone I recognized from the film…
Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. I turned around toward Notre Dame, which was only a few meters away, my eyes searching the streets for a familiar red cart near the huge, iron gates. To my dismay, Clopin's puppet…cart… THING, was nowhere to be spotted.
"Figures," I muttered. "I get hurled into one of my favorite movies of all time, and I can't even get to meet my favorite Gypsy king." They were all probably off preparing for the party. The thought occurred to me that I'd see him and the other Gypsies at the Festival in two days; if I was in the right time zone, that was.
Until then, I'd need a place to sleep, a source of food and shelter, and maybe a few extra clothes, if the person could manage it.
"Hannah?"
I turned, not believing my ears. "…GISELLE?"
My eyes searched my surroundings frantically, and I finally found her person inside the doorway of a small jewelry shop just a few steps away. She grinned at me from within and waved a hand, motioning me to join her.
"Giselle, what the heck are YOU DOING here?" I shouted, barreling into the store and right up to her.
"Look, Hannah, aren't they beautiful?" She exclaimed, holding a pair of golden earrings up to her face and grinning as if she'd made them herself. "The Parisians have all the best jewelry, you know. I'm almost tempted to move here myself, just for the shopping! I also hear the food is great, too; not to mention the music. Not that listening to Mrs. Gale sing the national anthem every morning is boring or anything; I'm just saying that we-"
"GISELLE!"
"…Yes?"
"Where. Are. WE?" I panted furiously.
"Paris- duh, silly! Listen, I followed you through that FREAKISH portal, it was totally weird and scary, but I ended up here, sooo… I thought I'd look around a bit!" She trilled, crossing to a shelf of bracelets. A woman behind the counter shouted at her in French, likely telling her to get her hands off of the jewelry. She probably thought we were peasants.
Well, at the moment, she was dead right.
"Do you realize we're IN the Hunchback of Notre Dame MOVIE?" I exclaimed.
"Hey, at least it's not that black and white version from like, fifty years ago!" She wiped a hand across her forehead dramatically. "I do NOT look good in black and white."
"We'll have to find shelter," I said, through gritted teeth to keep my voice under control. "Will you help me?"
"As soon as I'm done looking here."
That's what I'd been anticipating with fear. "NO!" I said, more forcefully this time. "We're in the middle of Paris, with NO food, NO shelter, and you're shopping for EARRINGS? This is unacceptable, Giselle. Now, COME on!"
"No- the shiny jewelry!" she wailed as I drug her off. "…But we're in PARIS!"
I managed to pull her out of the store and back onto the walkway, just as a small caravan of carts and horses was driving by. We stared up at them curiously. Most of the horses were colored dull browns or blacks. The horse at the front was huge, the color of coal, and had milky eyes that glared down at the townsfolk with hatred. Even more alarming, though, was its rider- a figure I instantly recognized from my memories of the movie and shuddered at the recognition of.
"Frollo…" I breathed. He was too far ahead to hear me by then, but Giselle turned questioningly in my direction.
"Who?"
"Frollo… the villain, the antagonist- he's the evil judge from the Palace of Justice!" I pointed. Others around us were silently watching the procession, too.
"Oooh… well, he doesn't look that bad from HERE," she observed, squinting and holding a hand over her eyes to see him better.
"It's not his appearance that makes him frightening- he looks like just any old man. Albeit, a creepy, angry old man, but it's what he's done to the people here that makes him the villain of the story."
That, and the way he obsesses over women young enough to be his granddaughters…
"…What'd he do to them?" she asked.
"MAKE WAY!" a voice boomed RIGHT in my ear. A harsh shove to my chest sent me tumbling back onto the sidewalk as a brutish soldier strode by, glaring daggers at us. I saw Giselle fall next to me out of the corner of my eye.
"What-?" I gasped.
"You'd best take care not to get in our WAY, PEASANT," the man shouted, making it clear he was warning everyone else indirectly, as well. The street was suddenly quieter as the onlookers watched the soldier chewing us out.
"We were just walking!" Giselle protested indignantly.
Shut up, Giselle! I panicked. This is no time to get smart! You picked the WRONG movie!
"Now listen hear, you scurvy street rat," the man growled, catching a fistful of her collar and hoisting her up really close to his wet, slimy maw. "You do as you're TOLD, or else I'll see to it that your punishment is PERSONALLY arranged by Lord Frollo himself!" His breath probably didn't smell the best, either…
"Ooh, I'm shaking in my BOOTS!" she suddenly landed a sharp kick on the soldier's lower half- I won't say where for the sake of the children- and she reeled backwards, back next to me. The man stumbled in the other direction, spewing curses, and then regained his footing and lunged toward Giselle. Before I knew what was happening, I was instantly between them, holding out my arms for him to stop.
"Please!" I begged. "Don't hurt her!" I hissed the next part over my shoulder at her. "She doesn't know when to shut her mouth!" Giselle glared up at the black-clad officer as if she was imagining ripping his throat out. "She'll stay in line next time- I promise!"
The man considered us for a few more seconds before deciding we weren't worth the trouble of halting the whole procession. "…See that it DOES happen," he snarled, righting himself and striding back to the wagon he'd been walking beside. "The next time the little rat gets in my way, there'll be trouble on BOTH of your heads," he declared over his shoulder. The caravan, most of its members having stopped and who were now eyeing us suspiciously, continued moving at a slower pace. A small crowd had begun to form, but it quickly dispersed after a sharp look from Giselle.
"Can you believe the NERVE of these people? We get a foot too close to their little parade, and BAM! We're 'scurvy street rats!'"
"Have you looked at your clothes?" I countered tiredly.
"What's WRONG with my outfit?" She was dressed in a green tunic similar to mine, except she wore boots, which she probably hated because boyish attire was her number one enemy in the world- she avoided any color except pink as if it was the plague.
"Giselle, you could have gotten us in a lot of trouble!" I said, growing angry. "We haven't been on the streets of Paris for ten minutes, and your attitude is gonna get us thrown in jail! That's the LAST thing we need. If you ruin-"
"Okay, alright! I'll watch my mouth from now on- happy?" She pouted. "I just don't see the justice in harming innocent people! Those soldiers have-"
"Shh!" I pressed a finger to her lips. "Lower your voice! They're still close by!"
The two of us watched the little caravan disappear around the corner before we dared to talk again.
"…Those soldiers are corrupt and mean!" she whispered. I rolled my eyes at her fifth-grade vocabulary. "If they're around for this whole movie, I don't wanna be in it!"
"I don't think we have a choice, Giselle," I put my hands up helplessly. "Look- we're stuck in Paris for the duration of the film. Now, I talked to some women-"
"How is this even POSSIBLE?" She cried in distress.
"Listen to me!" I insisted, barely controlling my temper. "I'm stuck here with you, so you're going to have to do everything I say- you don't know anything about this movie, so I'M your ticket out of here alive! …That being said, I'm not responsible for any of your…" I gestured to where she and the guard had just had it out a moment ago. "…mishaps. So DO try and watch your tongue." Before she could protest, I continued. "Now, listen. Three women near here told me that today's the fourth- the fourth of January. That's two days before the actual movie starts, the Festival of Fools is scheduled to happen, Quasimodo escapes Notre Dame for the very first time in his life," I gestured up at the towers, "and before I FINALLY get to meet Clopin and the rest of the Gypsies of the Court!"
"…I have NO idea what you're talking about."
"SHH! Quiet and just LISTEN! Hah… we need food and shelter."
"Okay," she breathed, turning in a circle. "Where's the nearest hotel? Hm?" She questioned the air, as if she had an invisible personal butler somewhere in the immediate area who was responsible for attending to these kinds of situations.
That butler was not me.
I sighed. "…AND we need money," I added. "Happy now?"
She turned, a mortified expression on her face. "You don't have any MONEY?"
"WE GOT SUCKED INTO A DISNEY MOVIE! HOW WOULD YOU EXPECT ME TO HAVE ANY MONEY? GEEZ!"
"Sorry… I didn't mean to make you so upset."
Yeah, well you also don't mean to be so annoyingly naive and shallow, either! I countered mentally.
…This wasn't helping anything. My being angry at Giselle was only wasting my mental energy, which I needed very much at this point. I gazed down the street in the direction that Frollo and his guards had disappeared. "I wonder where he was going…" I murmured thoughtfully.
"Maybe to the that scary-looking black building?" Giselle offered, pointing out what I knew to be the Palace of Justice.
"Giselle! I think you just had an intelligent thought!" I quipped good-naturedly. She frowned, offended. "Er… sorry. But I think you're right… Frollo WOULD go to the Palace of Justice, since he basically works there…but then, why does he have so many guards around to escort him?"
"Tensions between the Gypsies and the guard are tight these days," a woman answered from behind me. I turned. "Forgive me for intruding on your conversation, but I might as well inform you, since you don't sound like you're from around here."
"No, madam, we're not," I said, careful to use madam, because it sounded more French than ma'am, I guess. She couldn't know we were anything but common street people. "I didn't know the judge carried so many guards with him."
"The Festival is upon us- Judge Frollo is extra cautious now that the Gypsies have been infiltrating the streets more and more," another man answered in a rough, gravelly voice. "This time of year is always worse for those who constantly conspire against their mysterious brood. If we weren't so indifferent to them, we might want protection for ourselves," he shrugged, placing a bucket of fruit into a stand he was manning. "The Gypsies are renown throughout Paris as a race of ill-bred, pocket-picking scavengers who have a nest somewhere in the shadows of the city. They're up to no good, that's for sure!"
He doesn't sound very indifferent to ME, I thought, protective of the underdogs since I'd watched the film so many times.
"I don't see what's wrong with street performers," Giselle commented thoughtfully. "I always thought they smelled funny, but other than that-"
"Giselle! Your tongue!" I complained, leading her away from the staring salespeople.
"What a strange pair," I heard the man mutter to the woman.
"Indeed."
Ugh… Giselle and her big, fat mouth…
"Sooo, where are we going?" she chattered, chipper as ever.
"Like I said, we need to find shelter and money; and there's only one place I can think of where the people just might be generous enough to spot us a few dollars. After all, WE'RE not Gypsies…"
"Thank goodness for THAT." Giselle's questioning glance followed my eyesight to the monstrous towers of Notre Dame. Her mouth opened in a huge O, as if it'd just dawned on her.
Without another word, she took my hand and we ran across the street in the direction of the church.