Yay, a quick update! I haven't been able to stop writing this! Thanks for the reviews, they made me so happy! I'm glad you all are enjoying this. –hugs - And I'd like to respond to one:
Sliceofpie: Thank you! Yeah, I considered that with Frollo, but decided against it. I thought I'd just leave that with Esmeralda, since she's so beautiful. ;) And it's been forever since I've updated my LoZ fic, hasn't it? I really need to work on it. Though, I've been more obsessed with HoND, obviously. 8D
Disclaimer: I don't own HoND. It was written by Victor Hugo, and adapted to a cartoon by Disney from which this is based.
CH. 11
Part III
Clopin sat on his bed, his back resting against the wall. He wore a loose white shirt that was thin enough he could see the bandages wrapped around his middle. A blanket covered his legs, a plate still sitting on his lap with uneaten food.
He kept replaying the events of last night, trying to bring more clarity. But after he'd been injured, it was all one blur. He remembered racing through the streets, which was a just a dark, windy rush. He definitely recalled hiding behind a pile of trash, mostly because it stunk so badly. The last thing he remembered clearly was seeing the cemetery. After that, nothing. The only thing that was sharp in his memory was the pain. He touched his side and winced. It still hurt, but not nearly as badly. He'd been told they'd sewed him up, and that he'd lost a lot of blood. Which explained the weakness and light-headedness he felt.
The purple blanket covering the threshold was pushed aside and Esmeralda came in. She offered him a smile. "How are you feeling?"
"Mmmm."
Her green eyes dropped to the plate. "Clopin, you have to eat. It's the only way you'll gain your strength back."
He crossed his arms, giving her a narrowed-eye look. "You, Quincy, and every other gypsy has been dodging this question all day. I demand an answer. Where is Avril?"
Esmeralda sighed. "Clopin, you need to focus on-"
"Where is Avril?" He paused, then sighed. His voice was softer as he said, "Please, Esme, I need to know. I'm worried."
Her shoulders slumped in surrender. "You're not going to like it."
"Is she hurt?" His dark eyes widened.
"No, no. She's not hurt." Esmeralda sat on the end of the bed, Djali trotting in after her. She patted the goat's head as she said, "You were unconscious and bleeding when we brought you into the Court. Avril had your blood on her, too. And, well, the gypsies turned against her. They thought-"
"Oh, merde!" he swore, bringing one hand to his head. "They thought she tried to kill me?"
She shrugged helplessly. "Well, Clo, what else would that look like?"
"Why would she try to kill me, then try to save me?"
"I don't think she did, all right? I believe what you told me earlier: you were attacked by soldiers. But that's how Lucien had fellow gypsies killed, too. We just suffered one traitor, everyone is more sensitive now. Avril's different. She's not entirely trusted. Well, not by the majority. I did what I did to protect her and my people."
His eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"
She looked at her goat, biting her lip. "I . . . sent her away."
"You what?"
She looked back up at him. "I told her to leave the Court of Miracles. And she did." As another curse word flew from him, she leaned forward, eyes wide and pleading. "Clopin, listen to me."
Seeing the sadness in her gaze, he relaxed and sighed. "Yes?"
"I didn't know what to do. Everyone was angry. I thought she would get hurt or even killed. I told her to leave so that she'd be protected."
"Protected from the people she sought refuge with," he said with a dark gaze.
She let out her breath, sitting back. "I know, Clopin, I know. But you must realize how that looked. Maybe it was a bad decision, but I just did what I could to control the situation." Her voice became quieter as she added, "I was so worried about you."
He leaned forward, grabbing her hand. "Hey, chérie, I'm not angry with you. Désolé. I'm just worried about Avril." He sat back. "I'm going to go look for her."
Esmeralda jumped to her feet. "Oh, no you're not! You need to rest. You lost so much blood, Clo, you were bleeding all over the place!"
He sniffed. "I'm sure it wasn't that dramatic."
"It was. I'll have someone else go look for her. I'll have Quincy. He likes her."
He paused, then nodded. "Very well."
Esmeralda studied him. "Clopin . . . don't you dare sneak out."
He threw up his arms in exasperation. "Which one of us is older here, Esme? Stop worrying, I'll live."
She realized he didn't actually respond to her comment, but ignored it. Something else had been pressing at her. "Hey . . . can I talk to you about something?"
"Sure. I have nothing else to do."
She sat back down on the bed and began messing with her clothes nervously. "You and Avril . . . Are you two . . . Does she like you? Do you like her?"
Clopin chuckled. "Well, I should think-"
"You know what I mean."
He instantly deflated, looking at the wall. There was a moment of silence before he turned back to her, "I believe so, yes." He was startled to see Esmeralda's expression fall, and her gaze drop sadly to the floor. "What's wrong? I've had girlfriends before, it's not anything new."
"But it is new," she responded, meeting his eyes again. "Because I've never seen you act the way you do around Avril before. You spend so much time with her; you're always smiling and laughing. You look at her too long. You two act like magnets; constantly drawn to one another. I've . . . I've never seen you behave quite like this. And it's not even the behavior so much. It's the way you look at her. And . . ." she sighed. "And the way she looks at you."
He tilted his head to the side, staring at her rueful expression. "Why does this bother you?"
His tone wasn't harsh or annoyed. He sounded sincerely concerned, like he cared that something, anything, was making her unhappy. And, of course, he did. They were like brother and sister. And that was the one thing that was making her sad. "Clopin . . . if you're serious with Avril . . ." She drew in on herself, giving a small shrug. "It feels like I'm losing you." She quickly corrected herself. "I'm not jealous. It's not that. But . . . we won't be like siblings anymore, because you'll have a wife. You won't spend as much time with me. And I'm scared because I don't want you to get your heart broken. I want you to be with someone who deserves you."
He blinked, processing all her words. It was a lot to take in, and raw emotion was behind it all. He wasn't sure what to say at first, so he stayed quiet for a few moments before venturing, "Esmeralda, dear. I love you very much. You know that. As for Avril and I's relationship, I don't know what will happen. There's no use in worrying about a future that is unsure. And even then, there's nothing toworry about. You're my only sister; nothing could change your place in my life. As for the last bits," he leaned forward, wincing at the slight pain, and planted a kiss on her cheek, "thank you for caring so much."
She smiled as he sat back. Then gave a small laugh and said, "You probably think I sound ridiculous."
"Not at all." He sighed. "Relationships are complicated."
Esmeralda gave him a wry look. "Fifi always says that. Don't try to claim her wisdom as your own."
He chuckled, and she was happy to see him smile so brightly again.
She climbed off the bed and gave him a kiss in return. "I'll let you rest. See you later?"
He nodded. "I'll talk to you later."
Esmeralda left his room and stood in the hall for a moment. She felt good. It was nice to get that off her chest, and to tell him the truth about what happened to Avril. That thought made her look a few feet down to the threshold that was Avril's room.
Esmeralda pushed past the sheet and went into it, looking around. It was kept very clean. Parchments lay on her bed. She must have been drawing the last time she'd come in.
The gypsy girl sat down on the bed, picking up the pages. She shook her head at the depictions of the Court of Miracles. These were so good. She thumbed through them until one caught her eye. She stared at it, feeling her chest tighten.
It was of Clopin, looking pensively into the distance. It was a perfect replication, even down to the way the light reflected in his eyes. She obviously had taken the work very seriously, because there were no rough lines or half-done shading to be found.
She looked at the next page and found another drawing of Clopin. In this he was smiling, arms spread as if he was performing. He was wearing his brightly colored outfit, his eyes standing out in the mask.
The next page was another drawing, this one of him holding up the puppet replica of himself, another grin on his face.
Esmeralda shook her head, pressing her lips together. Then she dropped the pages, stood up, and decided to head into Paris to look for Avril herself.
HoND
Avril lied on her bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. It was night outside, and her room was very dark due to her not bothering to light a lantern. Through the window she could see the lights of Paris, and even the Palace of Justice. But she didn't look, because it made her feel sick.
She still had on her gypsy clothes, multiple layers of blue, but she'd lost her hat escaping from the guards the night before. Her dagger was hidden, and that was the way she wanted to keep it.
The soldiers that had captured her had instantly taken her back home. She had received a storm of yelling, insulting, and crying from her parents. She had weathered it all silently. She didn't have the energy to fight back. She'd simply allowed them to lock her in her room and had stayed there ever since. Silvine had come in that morning with breakfast, but hadn't said a word to her. Only half of it was eaten, and Avril had only eaten that during dinner time. She didn't have much of an appetite.
She knew she could try to run away again. Just a simple slip out of the window, a climb down, and she could disappear into the streets of Paris. Nothing was stopping her.
But she couldn't. Where would she go? Her new family had rejected her. The gypsies thought she'd tried to kill their King, coincidentally a man her feelings had grown very strong for. A man that she had kissed, right before everything slipped away.
Pain gripped her chest. Was he okay? Was he alive?
There was another thought that darkened her mood. Did Gervais betray her? After he ran off, had he told the guards where she was? It could have been a coincidence. Guards were always patrolling the streets, after all. But he hadn't been happy when he had left. She had always thought Gervais a kind young man. But she supposed his prejudice against the gypsies ran stronger than his kindness towards her. If she had been alone, if she hadn't been kissing Clopin, would he have sent for the guards?
That kiss. The memory itself sent a wave of heat through her. She could still feel his hands on her waist, the curve of his jaw under her fingers, the wet warmth of his mouth on hers, and the way his skin smelled.
At least, she thought, if I never get to go back, I have that memory to hold onto.
"Avril!"
She frowned, hearing her name whispered.
"Avril!"
She sat up, her muscles aching from being in one position for so long. She looked around her room and saw a shadow outside the window. She rolled off the bed, hurrying to it. She opened the window and peered out, the night breeze tugging at her pale blonde hair.
Clopin was climbing up to the tiny balcony under window, dressed in his simple purple tunic and dark colors to help him blend in to the shadows. His hat concealed his face, but upon hearing the window open he looked up, and smiled a smile that Avril thought could blind the sun.
"Clopin!" She could barely keep her voice a whisper. Her nerves were sent on edge, her heart pounding. "You're alive! Thank God, you're alive!"
He grabbed the railing of the balcony, pausing for a moment to catch his breath. His side was aching, but he ignored it. He looked up at her. "Of course I'm alive, chérie, it takes more than that to kill the King of the Gypsies."
She climbed out of her window in one swift movement, planted her hands on the railing, and kissed him. He kissed her back, pushing with his hands to get higher until he could climb over the rail. They wrapped their arms around each other, and kept kissing until he hissed, pulling back slightly.
Avril let go. "Oh, your side. I'm sorry."
He shook his head. "I'm fine. Just a little tender. Like chicken. I love tender chicken."
She giggled. "Come on inside before someone sees us."
They both went into her room, and she closed the window behind her. He looked around for a moment, nodding. Then he said, "I'd say four gypsies is shooting too low. Eight could live in this room easily."
She tucked her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, it's . . . rather grand." She bit her lip, bouncing with excitement. "How did you find my house?"
"You showed it to me, remember? Last night. I have a good memory." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Esmeralda went looking for you. She was out all day. She returned a few hours ago saying she couldn't find you anywhere. And, well, I figured you might have been caught."
She put her hands on her hips playfully. "Did you have so little faith in me?"
He grinned. "Well, a whole twenty-four hours on your own in Paris with no place to go can put anyone in a dangerous situation. Plus Gervais already knew what you looked like now. Come on," he stood up. "Let's get you home. To your real home."
"I can go back to the Court?" Hope blossomed in her heart.
He nodded. "Yes, you can go back. I'm so sorry about what happened, but I'll make it right. I promise."
The door to her room suddenly burst open, and a small group of soldiers poured in, swords out. Avril took a step back while Clopin took a step forward, going for his dagger. But two soldiers pushed against him. He managed to block their blades, but pain shot through his wound and he uttered a cry, being forced back onto the bed. He felt the cold burn of a sword at his throat, and looked up to see the two guards kneeling beside him, one with a sword against him and the other pointed at him.
Avril backed up as the other two guards approached her. They seemed ready to pounce until a shocked voice from the doorway shouted, "Stop! Don't hurt her!"
Avril and Clopin looked over to see her parents, Silvine and Bernard, enter the room. Silvine's blonde curls were piled on her head, and she was clad in an elegant silver gown. Bernard's brown hair was still perfectly smoothed back, his clean shaven face etched in surprise.
Avril yanked out her dagger and held it out purposefully. Her eyes darted from her parents, to Clopin, to the guards. Then she shouted, "Let him go!"
Silvine's eyes were wide. "Are you out of your mind?"
"Let him go!"
"Avril, he's a gypsy," Bernard said. "Please, come with us. We'll help you."
She tightened her grip on the hilt, her palms sweaty. "I will. I'll come with you. I won't fight. But only if you let him go right now!"
Shivers went up her spine as a smooth, deep voice from the hall said, "Unfortunately, that's not a bargain you can make."
The entire room seemed to darken as Judge Claude Frollo swept into it, his black robe swishing with his movements. He had his hands steepled in front of him, his eyes taking in the scene.
Clopin swallowed, feeling his gut clench. This was so, so bad.
Panic started to flutter through Avril. She turned the dagger on Frollo, even though he was on the other side of the room. "You will not hurt him. He hasn't done anything wrong."
Frollo looked to her distraught parents. "As you can see, the gypsies have already corrupted your daughter."
Silvine brought her hand to her head. "Is there anything we can do?"
Frollo nodded. "I will help you daughter, Madame. I will take her to the Palace of Justice and devote all of my time to her until she is . . . purified. Guards," he turned back to Avril, "seize her."
There was little Avril could do once the soldiers attacked. She struggled and screamed, but it wasn't long until they had twisted her arms behind her back, forcing her to drop the dagger.
Silvine gasped. "The Palace of Justice, Your Honor? I . . . I'm not sure-"
"This is the only way, I am sorry," Frollo replied quickly. "Guards, take her and that gypsy filth to the Palace, but in separate carriages. Normal procedure for the gypsy, take Avril to an empty chamber. I will be there shortly."
"No!" Avril screamed, dragging her feet as the guards pulled her towards the door. "No! Mother, Father, don't let them! Frollo will kill us!" She didn't think the Judge would actually kill her, being that she was highborn. But she knew simply pleading for Clopin's life would be a lost cause.
The last thing she heard was Silvine crying. The last thing she saw was Clopin being yanked off the bed, his wide eyes locked on hers, before she was pulled into the hallway. She began to cry as a soldier picked her up and carried her the rest of the way outside the house. She was then thrown into a carriage and the door was slammed shut.
She was Frollo's prisoner.
HoND
Claude Frollo stared at the fireplace inside the Palace of Justice, watching the flames. Its warmth soothed him, but his mind was abuzz with what he would do next. Paris was still asleep outside the long windows, the rest of the room cast into blue shadow.
The gypsy was in a dungeon cell, left alone for now. Avril had been locked into a small guest room, one without a window. He had had to spend a few minutes assuring her parents that it was for the best, and that not only would their old daughter be back soon, but that she would be an excellent citizen.
Of that he wasn't certain, nor did he care. It was obvious now. Avril had stayed in the Court of Miracles and became a gypsy. She knew where their secret haven was. He had to get the information out of her.
This particularly excited him, because no gypsy had ever cracked under his interrogations. Not a single one would reveal the location. Not even the traitorous Lucien had. There was no reason for him to assume the male gypsy they had captured would be any more cooperative.
However, Avril wasn't a real gypsy. Perhaps, culturally, she was changing. But even then she was new. She wasn't used to the hard life. She may have understood the dire circumstances, but she couldn't have the same drive as the others to protect their home. Plus she was fragile. A sophisticated, pampered young woman. She would crack.
But that presented a problem. What could he do to her? He couldn't torture her, as much as he wanted to. Her parents and the entire elite of Paris would be shocked. He couldn't risk losing their support, as much as he hated it. Psychologically torturing her wouldn't help much, either. He needed her mind intact if she was to supply him with the information he needed.
But there was already a solution to that problem. The gypsy that was in their dungeons. They obviously had a relationship. Gervais had told him that he'd found them kissing. And now the gypsy had come to her house, presumably to rescue her. The thought that she could fall in love with a gypsy made Frollo feel sick, but it did present the perfect opportunity.
He would torture the gypsy until Avril told him where the Court of Miracles was. He already had plenty of plans in his mind on how to go about this. Each one brought a smile to his face. Additionally this route offered another solution. Self-sacrifice, for the strong minded, was quite easy. That's why the gypsies would rather die than give up the Court. But when you had to sacrifice someone else . . . That's when it was difficult.
Frollo was sure Avril wouldn't let her gypsy love die. It was only a matter of time. And he intended to devote all of to his two new guests.
There was a knock and the door opened, a soldier looking in. "My lord? You asked me to come back in an hour?"
Frollo turned around. "Yes, yes. We are ready to begin."
Reviews motivate me to keep writing!
For those interested, I thought I'd tell you a little on how I came up with this story:
-Inception: (couldn't resist) The inception of Mimesis came about through music. I really hope I'm not the only one who does this, but when I listen to music, I imagine , or think about, what I'm currently obsessed with.
Well, I was currently obsessed with HoND, which I had only recently discovered and fell in love with. So I was flipping through songs on my ipod to listen to ones that reminded me of HoND. And, more specifically, the sexy gypsy Clopin that had instantly arrested my attention the first time I saw him on the screen.
As you can imagine, there weren't too many songs that were applicable to the Gypsy King. So, I took some liberties and allowed a story to invent itself to go along with the song.
Well, most songs are about love, so I needed to imagine a love interest for Clopin. I didn't have a name for Avril, I didn't even have a steady image. But as more songs passed, I gradually kept adding onto the same story - which I initially hadn't intended. It just worked out that way. A remember a certain song needed a snooty girl to go along with Avril: in comes Brigette. Much of the plot was developed this way.
Well, I'll be darned! I loved the idea that had suddenly come. I outlined it on paper and then did the necessary research. I looked up French words and made a list, I also went to and looked at French names. I named all my major characters and then kept a list for any minor characters that needed names.
-Interesting fact: I hadn't even intended for Quincy to be an important character. It wasn't until after I wrote his first scene that I decided I liked him and wanted to bring him back.
-Interesting fact 2: In the early stages of outlining, I was bouncing between making Avril from Asia so that she would blend in with the gypsies, or making her from rural France and being really pale so that she wouldn't blend in. I decided the ladder would prove more fascinating.
