Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunchback of Notre Dame or anything to do with it. However, I do own Diamanta Devereux, her father, Oliver, Cecile Devereux, Madame Doreen,and Judge Thomas Gautier.
Note: No, the story isn't finished. I, too, am a Clopin fan and refuse to finish the story with such a terrible ending as I have in this piece of it. I don't know how many chapters there will be, but there'll be enough for the story to make all Clopin fans fulfilled.
Chapter #2
"I do not mean you harm! All I ask for is a place to sleep tonight and nothing more," Diamanta begged, "so please don't hurt me. I've suffered enough tonight." A single tear fell from her eye.
"Make way for the king!" a voice shouted.
"May her mother suffer from her little girl's death," someone from behind her hissed. She was thrown roughly onto her knees. Trembling, Diamanta stood up to see a young man staring directly into her eyes.
He was a tall and lanky with a comically long nose and dark face framed by a black goatee, which gave him a strange sort of comforting appearance. He wore a deep blue outfit with what seemed to be a long purple collar, which neatly draped over his shoulders. Atop his smooth, raven hair sat a floppy midnight blue hat with a bright yellow feather projecting from the side. Despite his strange hat, he held himself with great dignity.
"Ma chere fille, are you the one who is considered the traitor?" the man questioned. Diamanta nodded yes, several tears falling from her eyes. From what appeared to be out of nowhere, the tall man pulled out a hand puppet that looked and dressed identical to him.
"She's confessed, Clopin! What shall we do with her? Eat her, like all the others?" the puppet spoke in a high-pitched voice. Diamanta gasped in horror. Satisfied with her reaction, Clopin continued his conversation.
"Oh, no! We mustn't do that! We don't even know what she did to deserve such a tragic fate!" Clopin exclaimed, staring directly at the group of guilty-faced gypsies who had treated her with cruelty.
"What do you suppose we do, then?" the puppet asked, crossing its little arms.
"There is a chance she may have simply stumbled across our hideout. We should ask her why she came here."
"Monsieur," Diamanta began.
"Quiet! Can't you see we're having a private conversation?" the puppet shrieked, spreading its arms out in frustration. Clopin slapped the puppet across its tiny face.
"Don't you know how to treat a guest?"
"But she's the daughter of Cecile!" it shouted.
"Mama?" Diamanta gasped, "You knew Mama?" Clopin bent down to her eye level.
"Of course I knew your mother, ma chere fille. You are Diamanta, no?" Clopin wiped a tear from her cheek.
"Cecile was a traitor to all gypsies," a voice whispered. Clopin stood up and turned to the group of gypsies.
"Tell me, what do you see before you? A revolting way to find revenge on an enemy? Perhaps a liar's daughter who, in some twisted way, deserves to die? I see none of that. Through my eyes, Diamanta is a child no older than ten who is suffering from a crime she didn't commit. Silence yourselves, or be gone!" Diamanta stared at him in amazement, now understanding why he was king.
"Now can we get out of this sewage? We've all met each other and got along. Can we leave now?" Clopin's puppet, who had been silent for the last few minutes, complained.
"Oh my! We haven't all met each other!" Clopin said in mock-alarm. With his free hand, he took off his hat and bowed low. "I am named Clopin Trouillefou, King of Gypsies," he proclaimed, "and I am honored to be in your presence," he said as he kissed her hand. Before her face could redden with embarrassment, he positioned his hat back atop his head and led Diamanta by the hand into the Court of Miracles.