Disclaimer: I do not own Hugo's Hunchback of Notre Dame nor do I own the Disney version.
February 1474
"It's a threatening world out there," Clopin said to Agnes, "but I'm not going to deny you freedom because of it. It's our God-given right to see the sun and breath the same air that other men breath. We should not spend our entire lives hiding underground. We are not moles, but people."
She was allowed to venture outside the Court of Miracles, but first Agnes had to prove that she could defend herself. That, or quickly sidestep any imposing threat. Clopin gave Agnes continuous instructions on how to evade arrest and interrogated her on just how she would react in different scenarios. He even employed a gypsy boy to poise as a cutpurse the first time Agnes was given permission to leave the Court without an escort. Thinking that this was some common street thief, she defended herself by piercing his hand with a dagger. It was not a deadly weapon, scarcely more dangerous than a cactus thorn, but it was enough to draw blood. Agnes apologized profusely upon learning the boy's identity. Clopin, however, praised her capability, announcing that she had passed the final test, and afterwards gave the boy a handful of coins as though that might compensate for his bleeding fingers.
"But remember," Clopin said to Agnes, "it would be unwise to pull a stunt like that with a soldier. Keep your distance. If you see a soldier, flee. Don't linger. Otherwise he will find an excuse to arrest you. Yes," he added upon seeing Agnes's look of shock, "even children are arrested."
Agnes was permitted to roam freely after that. She was not so courageous the first few times she walked alone through the Parisian streets. Agnes loitered close to the cathedral, prepared to take sanctuary at the first indication of danger. Presently Agnes became braver and she understood why gypsies claimed that they did not fare well behind stone walls. She savored the taste of freedom. Agnes relished the feel of a cool, early morning breeze, the warmth of the summer sun and the sensation of raindrops splattering against the skin. Occasionally, Agnes visited the outskirts of the city and lounged in the tall grass, lazily watching the sky. But she always remained vigilant.
The first time she saw Judge Frollo was during one of these outings. She was making her way back to the Court with a handful of wildflowers, passing by Notre Dame when she heard the whispers uttered by inconspicuous members of the Court. "There he is, there's the judge. Don't make eye contact." Sure enough, Judge Claude Frollo was exiting the cathedral. Agnes's first reaction was utter disbelief. That was Frollo? That skeletal, gray-haired man? That was the one who was now a part of gypsy superstition, the fiend gypsy mothers often threatened their misbehaving children with? The man did not look intimidating. Still, Agnes was wise enough to dart behind a brick wall as his carriage rolled by.
As unimposing as Frollo appeared, only a fool would underestimate him. Just months ago he had ambushed a caravan of gypsies as they attempted to enter the city. They were rounded up and arrested, but one of them, a girl called La Esmeralda, evaded capture by plunging into the Seine and swimming underwater. She appeared in the Court of Miracles alone, sodden and bedraggled, and it was Clopin who questioned her. Upon learning that the girl was the daughter of a distant cousin, the gypsy king decided to provide for the twelve-year-old. That's how Agnes got stuck with a foster sister.
She grew to detest La Esmeralda. While Agnes was envious of the older girl's already profound beauty, Esmeralda resented Agnes's relationship with Clopin. Agnes was well aware that the orphaned Esmeralda secretly wanted a parental figure. The older gypsy's need for a father figure was surprising. She was astonishingly streetwise and was remarkably independent due to her own ability to thrive in such a hostile world. Sometimes Agnes sensed a bond between Esmeralda and Clopin. Perhaps it was due to their proud gypsy bearing or perhaps it was because of their fervent thirst for justice. They were both his foster children, but Clopin and Esmeralda were not exactly like father and daughter. They were more like… Brother and sister maybe. Or perhaps they were more like uncle and niece. It was difficult for Agnes to describe, not that it mattered. Agnes would resent any bond between Clopin and her rival. She possessed a deep rooted fear, a fear that involved Clopin casting her aside in favor for a more worthier daughter. Perhaps it was silly, but that did not prevent Agnes from zealously protecting her role as the gypsy king's daughter.
The first fight she and Esmeralda got into happened early one winter morning. It started when Esmeralda approached an ancient gypsy known as Emmanuel. "Tell my fortune, Emmanuel."
The vibrant gypsy clothes Emmanuel wore greatly conflicted with his gray, bearded face, but there was a youthful twinkle in his dark eyes, a spring in his step. Old Emmanuel was one of the few gypsies who publicly gave fortunes, but this was done out of eccentricity, not bravery. But it seemed to be quite safe. His premonitions were preposterous and highly questionable, and everyone, even those who hated and feared gypsies, knew that the old man was harmless. For some reason the community did not feel threatened by the elderly gypsy's fortune telling; it was nothing more than the zany ramblings of an old man.
"Of course, my beauty." The old gypsy took Esmeralda's hand and studied her palm. "You will be empress one day,"
Agnes sat down as well, elbowing Esmeralda out of the way. "Tell my fortune now!" she exclaimed with impatient eagerness and smiled affectionately at him.
Emanuel took her hand as he had Esmeralda's. "The small curvature of this line tells me that you will wed a high ranking official in less than a decade."
"The wife of a high ranking official, huh?" Esmeralda sneered. "Too bad you won't be empress."
"And I suppose you will be?" Agnes retorted icily. Nettled that Esmeralda's fortune was better than hers and resentful because Emmanuel had addressed the older gypsy girl as "my beauty," Agnes began to detest Esmeralda more than ever.
"That's no way to speak to the empress. Why don't you bow down to me, little girl?" Esmeralda derided with snooty bossiness.
"Like hell I will!" Agnes snarled. "Empress, hah! Who ever heard of a gypsy empress? You have a better chance of swinging from the gallows!" And then using Esmeralda's personal weakness as a weapon, Agnes added spitefully, "It doesn't matter anyway because at least I have a father. Everybody knows that Clopin loves me more than he does you." Thinking that she had won the argument, Agnes sauntered away.
"I can't understand why he adopted you," Esmeralda called after her in a tone that was equally cold, "especially since you are not a gypsy. Besides, everyone knows that I'm prettier than you are, and that includes Clopin!"
"Girls, you mustn't treat each other so meanly," Emmanuel reprimanded futilely. "Especially during times like this." But his request fell upon deaf ears.
Agnes's fists clenched angrily. Like a clever duels-man Esmeralda had returned the assault, aiming a similar emotional blow towards her opponent's own vulnerability.
Her response to Esmeralda's stinging remarks was an angry slap across the gypsy girl's sneering visage. Esmeralda replied with a silent punch to the face. Both girls began to fight, screaming insults, hitting and pulling hair. Emmanuel stood helplessly by, pleading for them to stop and wringing his wrinkled hands together.
Clopin and another gypsy rushed forward and pulled the girls apart.
"Cease fighting, both of you!" Clopin was uncharacteristically livid.
"It's my fault," Emmanuel said forlornly, springing to the children's defense. "I shouldn't have foretold their futures." The old man glanced at the gypsy king, then at the fuming and bruised children, and back again at Clopin.
"Nonsense!" Clopin's angry façade softened. He grinned reassuringly at the old man. "You're not to blame- you can't help it if these two little monsters can't get along- Agnes! Be still" he barked when he saw the girl aim a kick at Esmeralda.
Agnes wiped away the blood that flowed from the corner of her mouth as she made her way to her sleeping quarters, pushing aside the tapestry and sitting grumpily on the pillows that made up her bed. Stupid Esmeralda, she thought angrily, gingerly touching her swollen lip. I wish she never joined us!
Author's Note: I always considered Esmeralda as a remarkably strong and amazingly noble character. But she's twelve in this chapter and to give her a mature, fully developed personality would be ridiculous. She's been through a lot. She's confident. She's tough. But she's still a child. And it's not like Agnes is some poor, innocent victim of Esmeralda's wrath- She's a regular little snot in this chapter. I basically made Esmeralda and Agnes act like little brats just to show that both girls have got a lot of growing up to do, especially Agnes. I also wanted to show that these are children who basically grew up in the streets and not some castle. Naturally they are not going to behave like little princesses.
I would like to mention that this chapter gave me a lot of grief. I honestly don't care for it. But I didn't want Esmeralda to just pop out of nowhere. Originally this chapter involved a romantic relationship between Clopin and Esmeralda's mother. There was a mass execution and Esmeralda's mother along with Emmanuel are among those who are hanged. But then I realized I was making a habit out of killing off my characters. So I decided to make Clopin and Esmeralda distant cousins.
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