Thanks to those of you who reviewed! Sorry about the lateness! Killed my wrists again by writing 8,000 words in two days for a contest, lol. And I just watched the finale of Expedition Impossible! My favorite team, The Gypsies, won! -does happy dance- Yay!

Disclaimer: I sure wish I owned Clopin

CH. 10

The storage room in the Court of Miracles was like a treasure room of junk. Items were piled up in mountains and strewn over the floor. As Avril and Clopin entered it, shutting the curtain behind them, they were greeted with dim light and the smell of dust and all sorts of materials. The room stretched out like a grand hallway, with a high ceiling and torches at intervals. There was practically any item imaginable in the room, including chests stuffed with clothes, furniture, blankets, instruments, books, and jewelry. Most of it was in some manner broken. It was torn, dirty, or old. Avril remembered the motherly gypsy Fifi telling her "This is where we keep things we don't immediately need or want. But it's free for any gypsy at any time."

"So, what are we looking for?" Avril asked as they walked further into the storage room.

"I think I know where some good daggers are in here," Clopin answered, beginning to rummage around in a cluster of drawers. "It will be good for you to have one."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"Nonsense. You wielded one just fine yesterday."

She laughed, her blue eyes catching the piano seated by itself. "I was clumsy and awkward compared to you."

"Most people are."

Glancing over her shoulder and smiling at him, she sat down at the seat by the piano, studying its keys. The whites were covered in a thin layer of dust. She smiled at it. It was, at least, something familiar. She found herself glad that her parents had forced her to learn.

Clopin began humming as he looked, his voice carrying over the noises of him delving through junk.

"That's a pretty tune," she said. "Is it a song?"

She could see his hair move as he nodded. "Yes. We call it the 'Gypsy Wedding Song'. I had a couple tell me this morning they want to be married soon. We always sing that song during weddings; it's a tradition. It's been playing in my mind today."

"A gypsy wedding sounds like fun."

"It's the best kind of wedding there is."

She shook her head, smiling, as he continued to hum. The tune was soothing and soft. Arching one eyebrow, she peered down at the piano. She listened a few moments longer, to make sure she heard the right notes, and then began to play along with him.

Clopin stopped humming, straightening and turning to face her, a grin plastered across his thin face. He walked over to the piano and leaned against the side of it, watching her fingers dance over the keys. She would look up at him most of the time, proving she was well-familiar with the instrument. He'd always heard rich people knew how to the play the piano, mostly because it was an expensive instrument to possess.

She kept gazing at him, so he did what he always did when people watched him: entertain. He opened his mouth and began to sing.

"So as long as there's a moon
To wish on
So as long as there's a song
to croon
We'll throw the wedding jar
To keep tradition
And hope your love will last
As long as there's a moon"

Avril giggled. "That's very beautiful."

"What? My voice? Oh, I know that already."

She laughed. "The song. I've already complimented you on your voice, you don't get two."

"Really?" He gave her a wry grin. "I'll have to remember that."

Planting one hand on the piano, he vaulted on and stood up. He spread his arms out, leaning forward as if telling a dramatic story.

"They say the moon is like a gypsy
She casts a spell and then she's gone
We know life is strange
Everything could change with the dawn"

She stared up at him, transfixed by his powerful voice as he closed his eyes, tilted his head back and sang loudly, "Let the night go on!"

Heading through the stone hall, Esmeralda paused as she heard Clopin singing. Pushing her black hair back from her shoulders, she followed the sound, wondering where he was and who he was singing to. The sound of his song grew stronger as she moved further back in the Court of Miracles.

"Oh, as long as there's a moon
To guide us
Oh, don't let the morning come
To soon"

Esmeralda stopped at the entrance to the storage room and partially pulled the sheet back, peering inside. Her green eyes widened as she took in the scene. Avril was playing the piano, the notes ringing out into the air. Clopin was lying on top of the piano, his elbows braced on the edge in front of Avril. They were both gazing at each other as she played and he sang, their faces not far apart.

"You know, we all want someone beside us
None of us are truly solitaire
Every moon is new and someone cares
I will care for you
As long as there's a moon"

The notes began to grow faint as the two stared at one another. So slowly that she almost couldn't see it, Esmeralda noticed Clopin and Avril both moving closer together.

And then, as if sensing her presence, Clopin looked to the side and saw the young girl there. "Hey . . . Esmeralda." He gracefully rolled off the piano, standing up. "What do you need?"

He stood casually, leaning back against the instrument and crossing his arms. It was extremely casual. And that's what made it seem so awkward. Esmeralda looked to Avril. The pale girl was bright red, sitting at the keys and looking up at Clopin.

"I heard you singing," Esmeralda said, taking a step into the room.

"Oh, yes. I was teaching Avril the Gypsy Wedding Song. She's quite good with the piano, I was thinking she could play along with us."

" . . . That sounds good," Esmeralda nodded, raising one sharp eyebrow. "I'll see you two later, then?"

Clopin inclined his head. "We'll see you later."

As the beautiful young girl left, Avril fished for something to say to break the strange silence. What had just transpired, anyway? She had been playing the piano, he had been singing . . . goodness, but his voice was so gorgeous! And then . . . his face was so close. He was so attractive.

"Clopin, I-"

"Let's go out, shall we?" he asked, turning around. "Take a walk about the city? It's a lovely night."

She paused, her thought that hadn't even been fully formed dying on her lips. "Yes . . . Yes, that sounds like fun."

After Clopin chose a dagger he approved of, he gave it to her and they left the Court of Miracles. The night was clear and light. Stars were spattered across the sky, and the air was cool and crisp. Paris was dotted with lantern lights from the shops and homes that weren't quite ready to sleep. After they traversed the streets in silence for a few minutes, Clopin led her up on the roof of a housing building. It was large and square, with a waist-high stone wall running around it.

Avril followed him to the edge, leaning on the stone. They were facing the cathedral, standing tall and proud against the night sky. She let out her breath, her pale blonde hair blowing back from her face. "It's wonderful out here."

"Out where?"

She gestured at the air. "Paris, this part of town, the night, with the gypsies . . . I wouldn't trade any of it."

He grinned at her. "So, no lingering regrets?"

She shook her head. "None at all."

He looked down at his gloved hands, playing with his fingers. "I've been thinking about what you said to me in Notre Dame. About God and Frollo. And I was thinking maybe you were right. And maybe God sent you to me so that you could tell me that." He shrugged one thin shoulder. "Or . . . something that like."

She blinked at him, a warmth spreading through her chest. "I hated moving to Paris. And I hated my life. But maybe God faced me with all that so that I could run away and meet you."

He met her eyes again, a smile spreading across his face. "So this is like a full circle moment for us?"

She laughed. "I guess so."

"Well, I'd hate to think God put that badness in your path just so you could save my soul," he said with a playful wink.

Avril turned so she was facing him, resting one arm against the stone. "First off, the reason might not just be you. Maybe I'm meant to do something important with what I've learned. Tell my parents, or the tell people of my cla-my former class that they're wrong. Or maybe I'm meant to use what I know to help you all with Claude Frollo. Secondly," she leaned closer to him, "if anyone's soul is worth a lifetime of pain to save, it's yours."

She could see his throat constrict as he swallowed, felt the heat coming off his body. It was the first time she had really become aware that he was very much a man. And it was making her feel very much a woman.

Clopin felt his gut tighten and his face heat up. Granted, he'd had girlfriends before. But there was something about Avril that made him react in a way no one else had. He was drawn to her. Initially he thought it was because of her differentness. She was pale and sophisticated. And perhaps it was still that, but now something more was added. The way she had just thrown herself into gypsy culture with everything she had overwhelmed and honored him. No one else had ever wanted to be a part of this life. But she did, and it affected him deeply.

His gaze staying on her was beginning to make her feel self-conscious. She glanced out over the buildings, then smiled and pointed, "That was my house right there."

He reluctantly looked away from her, out over the city. "Where?"

"That one right there. With the curvy roof and silly little balcony coming from that window. I climbed out of that, you know. It was my escape route."

Spotting it, he laughed. "What a silly architectural design. That's some house, though. Do you know how many gypsies we could fit in that?"

They both turned away and began to climb from the roof, using a ladder that ran along the side of the stone building. "The whole Court of Miracles?"

"That's what I'm thinking."

"I could share my bedroom with Esmeralda," Avril said, her blue skirts swishing about her knees as she climbed down. "And probably two other gypsies."

"Who else do you like?"

"Um . . . Fifi's so sweet. Definitely Fifi."

"Anyone else?"

She hopped down onto the narrow street, the buildings crowding over them. "I could stay with Racquel and we could have sexy dance parties every night."

They both laughed as he joined her on the street. "And where shall I stay?"

She paused before answering with a smile, "You could share the tiny balcony with Quincy."

He laughed, throwing his head back. "Come on now, chérie, you're being ridiculous. The only room big enough for Quincy would be the basement."

Giggling, she replied, "The ceiling is rather low in there. I think he's too tall."

He shrugged. "No matter. We shall cut a path through the floor for him to walk about with his bald head poking out."

Trying to suppress a laugh, she added, "And we could tie a silver tray onto it with food so you could eat at any time."

They both burst out into laughter, and Clopin stumbled back to sit on a crate, holding his side. "That is so mean! We can never tell poor Quincy we picked on him like this."

Still giggling, Avril took a step back and lost her balance, tipping. She reached out to grab the ladder but Clopin grabbed her arm first. She sat down on his lap, pulling her hat off and running her fingers through her hair. "Oh, goodness, Clo. There's never a dull moment with you."

She looked at him and they locked eyes, their laughs slowly subsiding. He was leaning back against the wall, his head resting on it so he could look up at her. A smile was still spread across his face, his dark eyes alight with amusement.

Not even aware of what she was saying until it was already out, she asked, "Can I kiss you?"

He never lost his smile, but his gaze become heated as he responded, "Only if you do it like a real gypsy."

She stared at him, bringing her hands up to rest on his shoulders. She moved one leg so that she was straddling his lap, her bare toes brushing the stone street. He braced his hands on the crate under him, pushing himself fractionally forward and tilting his chin up. His smile was gone now, his lips parted. Avril was barely aware that her expression mirrored his. Their faces drifted closer.

Only if you do it like a real gypsy.

She inwardly smirked at his words. And, knowing that if her parents or anyone of her former social class could see her they would be appalled, she grabbed the front of his tunic and slammed him back against the wall, pressing her mouth against his. He gave a surprised yelp before relaxing, kissing her back. Her hands moved up past his throat to his jaw line, feeling his ink black beard with her thumbs. His hands moved to her waist, holding her where she was.

"Avril!"

They both jerked apart, looking to the side. Avril blinked, panting and hot as she took in the person standing not far from them. "Gervais?"

The Leveque twin looked as if he'd been hit in the back of the head. His green eyes were like two full moons, his auburn hair in slight disarray from an apparent run.

Avril got up off the Gypsy King's lap, smoothing her clothes. "Gervais, I . . . What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," he replied, his gaze darkening. He looked to Clopin. "Who's this?"

Avril glanced back to see said gypsy reclining against the wall, his hands behind his head and one leg crossed. "This is my friend."

"Avril, he's a gypsy. You can't-"

Although she had heard that phrasing plenty of times before ever running away from home, now it caused a wave of anger to ignite in her. "I can make my own decisions on who I spend my time with, Gervais. He's a human, not a savage. I'm sorry that you've worried, but this is my choice. Go home. I'm happy here."

"Ouch," Clopin said. "That's gotta hurt, girly boy."

Gervais started forward, but Avril took a sidestep to cut off his route. She held her hands up. "Gervais, no!"

He stopped, seeming to control himself. His expression turned into a glare. "So, that's how it is, then? You chose that filth over us?"

Keeping her voice and gaze steady, she said, "Go home, Gervais. Forget about me."

The Leveque twinstared at her a moment before tilting his head to side so he could see the gypsy behind her. He was looking back with a wide smirk. Disgusted, Gervais turned on his heels and raced off.

Avril sighed, dropping her hands. She turned around. "Well . . . that went well."

Clopin stood. "Who was that?"

"Frollo's nephew. I spent some time with him when I first came to Paris."

"He was ugly."

"Clopin!" she said with a laugh.

"He was."

Shaking her head, she held out her hand. "Come on, we better head back to the Court of Miracles. I'd hate to run into anyone else I know."

Clopin took it. "What's he doing in this side of town, anyway? I would think he'd be too good for it."

Avril turned to him, looking up at his face. She opened her mouth to speak, when movement behind him caught her eye. She glanced, but too late. A soldier clad in all black sprung forward, dagger out. A scream rose in her throat.

Clopin must have seen her expression, because he pushed her roughly so that she fell back onto the street. He stepped sideways, but not soon enough and the dagger slit open his side.

He cried out at the pain, red beginning to stain his clothes. Yanking out his own dagger, he spun on his heels and blocked the next slash, his free hand holding his side.

Avril jumped to her feet, taking out her dagger. She saw two more guards approaching. "Clopin!"

He noticed them and shouted, "Run, Avril!"

As Clopin and his attacker locked blades, she rushed forward and slammed her shoulder into the guard's stomach, sending him tumbling back and coughing. She whirled on the other two, holding her weapon out in a shaky hand.

"I meant run the other way, chérie," he said jokingly, but his voice was tight with pain.

She glanced back, seeing blood running over his fingers. "Oh, Clopin . . ." Panic seized her and she grabbed his wrist. "Let's go!"

They raced from the street, heading down a narrow alley. They could hear the soldiers in pursuit. She kept a tight grip on his wrist, but he never slowed his pace. He was so light and fast.

"We can't lead them to the Court," he whispered.

"But we have to get you help," she replied, feeling her eyes begin to sting with tears. "You'll bleed to death."

He seemed to think for a moment before pushing her into a side alley. He dragged her along, even though she was still holding him, quickly down the alley. It was almost pitch black, and she squinted her eyes trying to see. He ducked behind the other side of a pile of trash, throwing himself onto the ground. She collapsed with him, their bodies intertwined, and they stayed absolutely still.

The noises of the soldiers' quick footsteps drew closer. Neither of them dared to breathe, eyes wide in the blackness. Their hearts were hammering so hard they could feel one another's through their skin. Avril's forearm was pressed against his side, and she could feel a warm liquid starting to stream over her arm. She suppressed the sob that was trying to claw its way out of her throat. How badly was he hurt?

The soldiers jogged past them, looking about. But it was so dark, and they were lying so still, that the soldiers didn't notice and they left the alley.

The two remained a moment more before slowly standing. They looked about to make sure it was clear, and Clopin leaned back against the wall, wincing.

"Let's hurry," Avril pressed.

He nodded. "Follow me. I know a shortcut."

He led her through winding alleys full of trash and smelling of alcohol and decay. The kind of places she would have never entered had it not been for his safety. They were completely alert, and every small sound would send a jolt of shock through their bodies and cause them to look around in search of a soldier. As time passed, Clopin began to hunch over. Then he began to limp and his breath was ragged.

At last the cemetery was in sight, rising up on the hill. The night was still clear and beautiful. Too beautiful for what had happened. Avril had her arm wrapped around the Gypsy King, the other across his chest to support him as they staggered up the hill to the tomb.

Her legs were aching and she was exhausted, but somehow her adrenaline kept coming strong and allowed her to carry on. They reach the tomb and Clopin kicked the lid aside with a grunt.

As he climbed in, he looked up at her, his face pale and sweaty. "Close the lid for me, chérie."

She did so, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. They were covered in darkness again, and made their way slowly down the stairs. He was stumbling, and she tightened her arms around him, saying, "Come on, Clopin, we're almost there. Hang on."

There was a splash and they stepped into the sewers. Avril struggled to see, the thick water sloshing against her bare legs. Suddenly Clopin almost dropped, and she had to maneuver her weight under him, pushing him back up. "No! Just-Just hold on. We're almost home." She looked about desperately. "Help! Help!"

She pulled him along and his head rolled to the side, his hair brushing her face. She struggled with the ever increasing weight being put on her. Hot tears streamed down her face, and she began openly sobbing.

"Help! Help us, please!"

And at last she heard splashing feet up ahead and the blossoming light of a torch. The guard gypsies were jogging up, but when they saw their King they sprinted. The next few minutes were just a blur for Avril, her body sore and tired and her eyes aching from crying – which she couldn't seem to stop. The guards took Clopin from her, picking him up as if he weighed nothing. His head fell back and his eyes were closed, and one of the gypsies put pressure on his wound as they raced through the catacombs to the Court of Miracles. For some reason, Avril couldn't seem to stop saying that name in her head.

The Court of Miracles.

Court of Miracles.

Court of Miracles.

Miracles.

Miracle.

She followed them into the Court, and then it was a blur of screaming and crying as they rushed through the crowds to a backroom. They laid Clopin's limp form on a table and gypsies began gathering around. Quincy pushed his way to the front, followed by Esmeralda. The girl gasped and recoiled as she saw the Gypsy King on the table.

"Get a needle and cloth!" Quincy shouted. "We have to sew this up, fast!"

Avril felt light headed as she watched the supplies quickly brought. Esmeralda was crying. Many people were crying. She felt sick as she watched a woman gypsy bend over his side, starting to sew the bloody wound shut. Another gypsy was holding a cloth, wiping up the blood.

Suddenly Avril realized that all the gypsies just standing around were beginning to glare at her. She blinked, the world coming back into focus. "Wha . . ."

A man pointed at her. "You! What did you do to him?"

Avril stared at him in surprise. "I . . ."

"Traitor!" a woman shouted.

And then there was a chorus of voices, all shouting at her accusatorily. Avril was pushed back into a wall, too shocked to say anything even if she had been given the chance.

Suddenly Esmeralda was at her side. She grabbed her arm and dragged her from the room. Avril stole one last look at the unconscious Clopin before she entered the main section of the Court of Miracles, now with only a sparse population.

"Esmeralda, I didn't-"

"Go," the gypsy girl said in a firm voice. "Just go."

A sick feeling entered the pit of her stomach. "Go? Where?"

"Leave the Court of Miracles. Leave now."

While her expression was unreadable, her tone offered no room for argument. Avril looked back at the gathering of gypsies crowded about the room. Most of them were fixing her with death glares.

Avril took a few steps back, and then turned and ran.

HoND

Avril walked aimlessly down the streets of Paris, her arms wrapped around herself. Night hung like a veil over her. She had stopped crying; she no longer had the energy. She felt drained in every sense of the word. She was in shock, she supposed, but the only thing that kept plaguing her mind was if Clopin was all right. If he was alive.

She was digging inward, trying to protect herself from the world. She had blocked out her environment so much that when two guards leaped from the shadows and grabbed her, she was caught completely off-guard. It took her a moment to process what was happening. Then she began struggling and screaming protests. A hand clamped over her mouth, and she could do nothing as they began to drag her down the streets.

HoND

Frollo stood at a long window, staring out across Paris. He was pondering over the situation with the Desmarais girl. Where was she? He wasn't keen on losing, but perhaps it would be best to just give up the search. Maybe she wasn't with the gypsies after all. He was wasting valuable men on her search. Men that otherwise could be helping him catch gypsies doing crime and look for the Court of Miracles.

Suddenly the door burst open. Frollo whirled on the intruder, a scowl forming that quickly dissolved when he saw Gervais Leveque. His nephew was panting and sweaty, his eyes wide.

"Gervais?" Frollo asked, clasping his hands in front of them. "My dear boy, what has happened?"

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he said, "I found Avril, Uncle. I informed the guards, and I just got word that they've captured her."

"Excellent. Her parents will be pleased."

Gervais stared at him, his green eyes leaking pain. But he remained silent.

Frollo raised one eyebrow. "Is something wrong, Gervais?"

Silence.

He took a step forward. "Is something wrong with the Desmarais girl?"

After another pause, Gervais nodded. "I think she's in trouble."

What had happened was written plainly over his nephew's expression and in his tone. Keeping himself outwardly composed, Judge Claude Frollo allowed himself an inward smirk. "Tell me."

End of Part II

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By the way, if you don't know already, the Gypsy Wedding Song is a real song that didn't make it into the movie titled "As Long as There's a Moon". You can see the DVD extra about it and hear it on YouTube. It's so beautiful!