Seasons of Skye

Author's Note:

"Seasons of Skye" is in no way complete. There are only a few chapters so far in the first part (out of three parts.) I finally re-listed it; I hope I get some reviews this time. This is my first fanfic, so please do not be too harsh in reviewing! More will be added in the next few days/weeks.

Also, the first three to five chapters may seem uneventful and don't portray my characters very well, but fear not! These first chapters are needed to set the tone for the rest of the story. (As more chapters and parts are added you'll see why, and learn more about the characters!) Please don't judge the fic by the first few chapters that I have put you through so far! Look for updates every couple days because I will be making more and adding the fourth and fifth within a week!

This tale takes place a few months following the ending to the first Hunchback of Notre Dame movie. This is one of my favorite movies and I wanted to tell the stories of two of my favorite characters that were unlucky in the romance department throughout the first film, Clopin Trouillefou and Quasimodo. This fanfic addresses Clopin primarily *I know there are so many out there* If you prefer Quasimodo and want to read about his romantic endeavors than please watch for my fanfic entitled Candle in the Snow, coming soon.

Finally, if you find that the flashbacks get confusing, let me know and I will start to title them, or if Skye seems like a Mary Sue please review. Thanks!

Disclaimer: all characters are property of the Walt Disney Corporation, Victor Hugo or of me. Please, do not use any of my characters or ideas for your own use.

Part One – From Summer to Spring

Chapter Une – Brighter Skies

"Get out gypsy vermin!" cried the street beggar. Skye fled from the street corner as she was being pelted with wooden canes, stale bread crusts and whatever else the beggars could find. A few weeks ago, Skye was forced to evacuate the boarding house, which she had lived in for weeks because she was a member of the Roma, and now she couldn't even share a street corner with beggars.

"All because I'm a gypsy!" muttered Skye as she hid in a dark alleyway. Slumping down into a damp corner, Skye tried not to pity herself. It was hard being an outcast among outcasts.

Though she did not currently live with the gypsies, somehow every landlord and house attendant always discovered that Skye was one of them. Her parents had been gypsies and Skye could remember living in the gypsy refuge known as the Court of Miracles. Bits and pieces of memories of her parents were stored in her frazzled brain. Here and there she would smile when she remembered riding on her father's shoulders during the Festival of Fools or having her mother braid her dark hair so that she could go sing in the town square with friends. All of those memories were fading rapidly. Skye could barely remember her parents; they left her to fend for herself at the age of seven, thirteen years ago.

***

"I can't believe we're doing this to her," whimpered a beautiful young dark haired woman, called Londra, who was holding a small bundle in her bony arms.

"We can't just leave her there, by herself!" she continued looking back at a petite child on the street corner.

"We have to Lon, you know what will happen if we don't! They'll find us. Besides she isn't even our kid. If she was this would be different," protested the lanky gypsy man, known as Aramis.

"I know, but I just feel so guilty, she's only a child after all," piped the gypsy woman.

"Look at it this way Lon, after not hearing from us, someone will be sent for her, and she'll be in her rightful home, a real home. If worse comes to worst, during her twenty-first year, she'll have to be taken back, it was part of the agreement, " explained Aramis, to his wife who was all to familiar with the deal they had made with the anonymous nobles.

"Mmmm," murmured Londra, thinking of the little girl's grandiose future. Snapping out of her coma, Londra offered one more argument before being flung into the gondola, babe in arms, "Us leaving her was not part of the agreement Aramis!"

"And you having a grotesque child wasn't either!" he hissed at his wife.

"Don't say such things, he is yours too!" corrected Londra, tears in her eyes. The day had been too much for her; having a less than perfect child in the world's eyes, but an angel in her own, being forced to leave the closet thing to a daughter that she had ever known, all to flee some unknown enemy who had been haunting the gypsy couple ever since they had taken the girl under their wings. Londra sighed and her lips twisted to form a pathetic frown, which hardly ever graced the woman's face.

"Can we please get going," Aramis demanded to his friend, who had offered to help the couple escape.

"The sooner we get out of Paris the better," Aramis murmured to himself. As the couple calmed down, the gondola slowing glided into the awaiting darkness to the hushed cries of the baby Londra clutched. Neither knew of the dangers that awaited them, or their misshapen 'bundle of joy.'

***

Skye had forgotten the reason why her parents had left; all she knew was that she had never returned to the Court since being forsaken. What would the gypsies think of her if they found out her own parents couldn't even put up with her. She had been quite rambunctious for a little one, though her mother had always boasted how lady-like she was. From time to time Skye envisioned the free spirited ebony haired wild-eyed child who stood on the side of the busy street staring at parents who would never return. For some reason, Skye did not care about being left alone when she was younger. She had always found refuge when needed; there was constantly an elderly woman willing to feed a homeless child. All Skye ever had to do was look up at a compassionate passer-by with her round, bleak, teary eyes and she would have food and shelter for a week. And then they discovered she was a gypsy.

Skye shuttered at the memories of her childhood. How fast she had grown up, though she didn't realize it. The small ebony haired child was now a woman. Her eyes were like two small black holes, always losing people in them, and her petite child like stature was adorable, though she abhorred being tiny. She wasn't overwhelmingly attractive, but there was something about her that made heads turn. The aura that trickled around her made her somewhat appealing.

***

The day was waning, and soon it would be completely dark. As the last bit of sunlight began to disappear, Skye curled up in the alleyway that she had spent the last few hours inhabiting. Having nothing else to do, Skye began to think. Often times, her thoughts were the only things to keep her company in a world where the gift of friendship was too rare an item. While thinking about what she knew of the gypsies she shivered in fear as she remembered the Paris fires a few months back. She never quite knew why the city was had been a victim of such terror, but she did hear rumors from passersby that the minister of justice, Claude Frollo, had gone crazy for a gypsy girl, Esmeralda, who Skye had seen before dancing in the street; he set fire to the city in his madness. Skye was in the crowd when Esmeralda was burned at the stake and the Notre Dame's hunchback had saved the day, and she watched in horror as fiery liquid had rained down on Paris from atop the bell tower and was even more terrified as she noticed the insane Frollo glaring at her before darting into the bell tower. The thought of Frollo ever coming back to Paris scared Skye more than anything, even more than the fires. She just knew that one day the minister would return and lash out on her, which is what appeared like what was going to happen, had Claude not been distracted with the Quasimodo that fateful night.

Thinking about the gypsies and the fires frightened Skye as the night proceeded; then, as Skye looked up at the shady clouds she saw the cathedral, Notre Dame, in the distance. No matter where she went in the city, she could always find the tower; it comforted her to be able to know something would always be there, even if other aspects of her life weren't so stable. Also, the bell ringer, Quasimodo, intrigued Skye. He seemed so kind when Skye had seen him for the first time in town, after the fires. People used to fear him; now he was the hero in town; granted, people still would only utter a few phrases in his direction before scurrying away. Skye always had wanted to go in the bell tower and befriend the bell ringer, but she never had had the courage. As thoughts danced around in Skye's mind, she slowly felt her fatigue and drifted off to dream.

***

The thick smoke billowed through Skye's lungs and pierced her dark eyes. The colors of midnight stained her face as she rolled about the silent alleyway; she moaned and cried out as if trying to escape the grasps of a tantalizing nightmare. What she didn't realize was that she was no longer dreaming about the petrifying Paris fires, but that she was being penetrated with the glowing blaze. During her slumber a cloaked enemy attempted to burn the gypsy's surroundings, so as to infiltrate the dark haired dreamer's body with flames. Before the fiend could carry out his plans for Skye, the gypsy awoke in horror and fled the fearful scene, as an unexpected nightmare watched from the shadows.

***

In the early, dark moments before morning the gypsy girl walked the streets of Paris looking for refuge. Though she was lucky that her life had been spared she was left with many scars to always remind her of how dark night could truly be. Skye was in dire need of sanction. As soon as she had gotten over the shock of being on flambé she realized why she had been targeted; Skye knew that the gypsies were hated, but she never could imagined that someone would try to kill her for being one of them. Though the girl had not been the gypsy court in over a decade, she new that was where she needed to go. Surely her own people would offer her shelter and a shoulder to cry on. She was almost at the gypsy refuge, when the burdens of her life, and her clumsiness, caused her to collapse in the graveyard, which held the Court entrance. Her royal blue skirts ruffled as the wind blew and her matching top had tattered in the process of all the drama. As she lay in silence, her mind wandered, and slowly her breathing began to decrease as she coughed and sputtered.

The dawning of a new day began, and the sun was just starting to peek out from over the bell tower, as the wiry gypsy king, Clopin Trouillefou, snuck out of the catacombs that housed the gypsy court. He often tried to escape in the morning as to have a few moments to himself, privacy was something he didn't enjoy but needed. Being the gypsy king was a very stressful job, which he could never abandon, even though he would never think of renouncing his title.

As he glimpsed at the surrounding graveyard, he was startled to see that he was not alone. At the secret entrance into the underground gypsy court, lied a girl. Clopin rushed over to her and realized she wasn't dead, but merely in a drowsy comatose. Her breathing was slow and heavy, and occasionally she began to wheeze. As the king started to sweep the girl up in his arms, to take her someplace safe, he saw on her the tiny celestial markings scarred onto her ankle indicating that she was a true member of the Roma. (All true gypsies had the markings cut into their skin at birth, a painful yet necessary process.) Relief flooded over Clopin, as he knew the gypsy's in the court would be warm and welcoming towards a battered member of their own race than towards an injured stranger. Gypsy's could be as cruel like some of the prejudiced Parisians, who sought out the gypsies to ridicule and torture, Clopin included. With a smile on his face, the king tenderly picked up the girl in his arms and proceeded towards the court. Though the he did not yet realize it, his heart had heated when he held the girl in his arms.

***

Clopin crept through the catacombs, hoping not to draw any attention to himself or to the unconscious lady in his arms. Just when he thought he had reached his tent without being noticed, he heard a mob of murmurs and squeals.

"Who is she?" muttered a member of the gathering crowd. After gently setting the girl on his cozy bed of straw and ever so carefully draping his best sheets across her limp body, Clopin stepped out of the tent anxiously to attempt to calm the growing cluster of gypsies.

"There's nothing to see here so go on your way, all of you," cried the king to his people. Of course the gypsies were not going to leave until they got the answer they wanted so with a frustrated sigh Clopin explained the situation further.
"I think she was attacked, but don't worry she is no stranger. She is one of us." With that, sighs of relief were uttered from the gypsies, and they began to chatter about the "new" girl. Clique by clique the gypsies started to drift away from Clopin's tent as the whispers grew. Smiling, as he shuffled back inside of his tent, Clopin was delighted to see that the girl's breathing was starting to become normal.

Only a few minutes had passed when Clopin became filled with anticipation. The king was even more anxious then usual and could not stand still. He couldn't wait for his "damsel in distress" to enliven! Clopin was a known 'womanizer' and couldn't help but smile when he saw another girl to add to his "collection." Looking around the tent, Clopin realized that his surroundings weren't yet fit for the presence of a lady, so he quickly began to spruce up the place.

While Clopin tidied up his tent in preparation for the girl's awakening, Skye's eyes fluttered opened. Instead of being shocked to be in a stranger's tent (like she thought she should have been) she was awed at how attractive her roommate was. He was dressed in a dark purple suit with a matching yellow-feathered hat. His suit was adorned with bells and a dark indigo cape ornamented his broad shoulders; a jagged dagger sat in its sheath upon his leg, waiting for battle. He was thin and wiry, but looked like he was strong and fit. Skye blushed at her thoughts and all of a sudden a fit of coughs came about her.

Clopin spun around and muttered strange words until the choking ceased. Both Clopin and Skye were brimming with questions for each other, but Skye decided to let the man speak.

"Mademoiselle," started Clopin as he kissed Skye's hand affectionately, "would you give me the pleasure of knowing your name?" Clopin had always addressed women like that, but there was something about this girl that made him feel different, like he had never felt before. Clopin wasn't the expert on feelings (being that he usually only kept women around 'til he grew bored with them), but this one evoked odd emotions in the king, which he brushed off as physical attraction.

"Skye is my name," spat the girl, trying not to sound bitter. She was still overwhelmed from the attack.

"A very pretty name for a very pretty girl," boasted Clopin, noticing the girl's tone fear-filled tone, as he sat down next to Skye. Skye considered his remarks. "Me pretty? He must be blind!" she thought.

"Is this the Court of Miracles?" she asked, ignoring her thoughts about her appearance.

"Yes and you are safe here. Because you are a gypsy, the people here will welcome you with open arms, and if they don't they'll deal with me," chortled Clopin, with a slight arrogance. The girl obviously did not know he was the gypsy king. In fact he had never seen her in town before, let alone the Court.

Realizing he had not yet introduced himself Clopin began, "I beg your pardon, I have not yet told you my name, I am Clopin Trouillefou, king of the gypsies and vagabonds and the piece de resistance of Paris." Suddenly Skye brought her head down from the clouds, and started to get nervous.

"How do you know you can trust him Skye," she pondered. "He's attractive," was the only argument she could offer to herself. "And arrogant, and most likely not trustworthy!" her sensible side continued, "he probably only wants to kiss and caress me, like every other 'man'."

"Ugh!" she unwittingly groaned allowed, to a confused Clopin.

"I know I can be chatty, but allow me to ask a few more questions," Clopin urged, hoping he wasn't scaring the girl with his forwardness.

"Ummm... of course you may," Skye managed to sputter out, not sure if she should bolt or stick around.

"Why have I never seen you here before, I noticed you are a Roma and..." Skye cut him off before he could finish his inquiry.

"When I was little I lived here and...," she wouldn't let herself continue.

"Never give too much of anything, especially information, away! Always leave them wanting more!" Skye could hear her father's lectures still in her mind. Two twinkling black orbs dimmed as Skye thought of her long-gone loved one.

"One more question," the king begged, throwing Skye from her trance.

"Yes, your highness," Skye answered. He was some kind of royalty after all, and she didn't want to be rude to her new king, despite her unsure feelings towards him. Clopin's cheeks reddened at her formality.

"Well," he started, "How did you wind up at the graveyard?" Clopin always liked to know everything about everyone, and being the king he felt he had the right to meddle in the lives of his subjects. Skye shivered when thought of what had happened.

"Fire, I had to run...Court of Miracles I remembered, fell..." Skye was so worked up she could hardly tell her story.

"I understand." Clopin looked at Skye, and as their eyes met again Skye realized he truly did know what she meant.

"He isn't half bad," she concluded, as she grew dismal at the thought of Clopin being attacked. Almost all gypsies had been victims of hate and not even the king was a stranger to being attacked.

***

"Run!" was all he heard before being thrown onto the street. Clopin had tried to get away, but the warning had not arrived soon enough. Frollo's soldiers beat Clopin with a rage like no other militia. Despite the intense pain flowing down his spine, Clopin knew he could escape easily. He wasn't very modest and decided to battle the buffoons single handily. Using his perfected acrobatic skills, Clopin threw legs over his head, so that he was now positioned in a handstand. Lucky for him the imbeciles had neglected to restrain his legs, so the motion was easily accomplished. Before the guards had time to process what had happened Clopin was back on his feet and ready to attack. However, with three guards in front of him, and even more behind, Clopin felt fighting wouldn't save him this time. He tried to escape by throwing his "getaway" powder, that the gypsy children referred to as 'magic dust,' but his plans for victory were stopped short when Frollo himself sliced the king's shoulder with his faithful dagger. Pushing the king onto the ground Frollo scowled.

"That is where you belong your highness," he bellowed mockingly. The minister of justice left Clopin in the mud, as he gathered his troops and left the Paris square. All of the violence had been carried out right in front of Notre Dame herself; and now the heavens seemed to scowl as dark thunderclouds rolled over Paris. Clopin slowly got back on his feet. Making his way back to his Court, he vowed never to be beaten at anything again.

***

"Well so much for introductions," said Clopin running his hand over his battle scar and shaking his head to take him away from the painful memory.

"Shall we introduce you to the Court now?" he asked Skye rhetorically. Not leaving time for reply Clopin unfastened the tent flaps and motioned for her to join him on the cobblestone pathway. She scurried towards Clopin and looked at all of the gypsies before her. Surprisingly, they weren't stern looking or mean. They all looked so kind and gentle, as opposed to the cruel faces of the Parisians. Clopin stepped out in front of Skye as he introduced her.

"People of the Court, join me in welcoming our newest sister, Skye." The gypsies applauded as Skye blushed. She didn't like being the center of attention, but she felt so eased, like she finally belonged somewhere. Clopin grasped her hand and led her through the crowd of smiling faces. Though she wanted to wriggle herself free from his welcoming touch, Skye resisted the temptation. For once she felt as if someone actually wanted to be with her. Things were beginning to get brighter for Skye.

A/N: Me again! What do you think? Dull, too crazy, just plain bad? Please leave a review and let me know what you think! And now to the next chapter....