Chapter Eight

Elever Les Rideaux

(Raise the Curtains)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters/items/other stuff from Hunchback of Notre Dame. They belong to Victor Hugo (the original mastermind whom I strongly recommend reading as the original is absolutely brilliant and puts Disney to shame) and Disney (as most of the characterization is based on this version because, let's face it, Disney rocks). I only use them for my own pleasure in writing, but I don't make a dime out of it, so please don't sue. All original characters are my own creation.

Author's Note: Just want to say hello to all the lurkers out there who are reading this. I hope you are enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing this. Also, I hope everyone had a very very happy and filling Thanksgiving, to those who celebrate it. D Enjoy the chapter!

Clopin was pleasantly surprised the following morning when he noticed a very confused gypsy girl wandering aimlessly into the plaza where his cart was setup. He smiled behind his violet mask, the bells on his yellow cowl jingling when he moved from the inside of his cart to the doorway, his eyes still following the woman. The young lady walked from stall to stall, obviously curious about all of the different wares for sale. As she approached one particular stall, whose owner was known for his prejudice towards the Romani population, Clopin decided he should save her from an early morning harassment and headache.

"Nadja!"

At the sound of her name, Nadja's head shot up and her eyes began to scan the crowd, attempting to find the owner of the voice. Again Clopin called her name, a black gloved hand going up, waving so she could see him. Finally, her eyes connected with his and she waved back, moving through the crowd and across the plaza to him. Pushing through the final group of Parisians, glares coming from all directions as she shoved by, Nadja greeted Clopin with a giant toothy smile on her face.

"Buenos días, Clopin!"

"Merci and bonjour to you, mademoiselle."

Clopin stepped down from the doorway of his cart and picked up her hand, gently kissing her knuckles, pleased with the blush that crept up her face, setting her cheeks aflame. Nadja lowered her gaze in embarrassment until her blush was gone and Clopin allowed her a moment to compose herself, trying to keep a very satisfied smirk from his features, before clearing his throat. Clopin kept his features pleasant as she raised her gaze, a tentative smile on her lips.

"I'm happy to see you, Nadja. I was worried you wouldn't come."

Nadja giggled, shaking her head, her ebony hair, which Clopin noted was down this morning, shaking with her. "I promised to come watch you today. I am no liar, señor. Now the question becomes, are you going to put on a good enough show to entertain me?"

Clopin's hand grasped his chest, balling the fabric from his tunic into his fist, his eyes wide. "I'm insulted mademoiselle! I will have you know that I am the greatest storyteller in all of Paris, in all of France. Non! The world."

Nadja again giggled, her eyes lighting up in amusement. "You shall have to prove it to me, señor. I am quite the skeptic."

"Indeed." Clopin looked highly put out, his shoulders sagging, even his colorful costume looked dull. Suddenly Puppet made an appearance.

"She wants to see me! Not you, you long-nosed buffoon." Puppet promptly placed a kiss on Nadja's cheek, causing her to laugh even more.

"Sí! That is exactly it. I simply want more Puppet."

"More Puppet she says! More Puppet!" Clopin knocked his little friend on the hand with a wooden stick that appeared as quickly as the puppet had. "Stealing my customers, are you? I'll teach you."

"Save me, Mademoiselle Nadja! Save me!"

Nadja could not save Puppet more than she could keep herself standing upright as she was nearly doubled over in peals of laughter, grasping her sides. "After the performance, Puppet. I must be entertained first and so must the children behind me."

Clopin looked over her shoulder and Nadja was right as he counted six children waiting patiently behind her, not including their mothers who were just as anxious for the gypsy storyteller to perform as their offspring.

"Mon Dieu! You have distracted me with your striking beauty…" Clopin grinned at the disbelieving look on Nadja's face as she straightened herself out, smoothing down her skirt. "…but I must return to my audience. Until after the show, mon cher."

With a sweep of his hat and a deep bow, Clopin bounded away, cart wheeling through the spectators before returning to his cart. A few seconds later, his beaming face peeked over the edge of the window as if they could not see his vibrant purple hat with gold feather before his eyes finally crossed the threshold of the windowsill, the children cheering wildly for their favorite storyteller and the mothers waving at their favorite gypsy man.

"Bonjour! Bonjour!" Clopin had popped up from the window of his cart and was waving and bowing in an almost ridiculous manner to the audience. Just as suddenly as Clopin had appeared, Puppet popped up from underneath his elbow. All of the children began to cheer as Puppet also began to wave to the crowd, blowing kisses. When Clopin acknowledged the small wooden puppet's actions, he quickly rapped him on the head with that mysterious little stick and turned his attention back to the children as Puppet rubbed his sore head.

"What do you think we shall perform today, Puppet?" Clopin leaned on his elbow and rested his head on his hand, a thoughtful look on his face. Nadja smiled, a laugh on her lips as their eyes made contact.

"I do not know, Monsieur Conteur." Puppet scratched his chin, Clopin mimicking his tiny counterpart. All of the children giggled at this. "Perhaps we should ask a member of the audience? Surely one of them knows a story."

As soon as that suggestion was posed to the audience, every child's hand raised in the air, waving eagerly and trying to get Clopin's attention. His eyes had not left Nadja and her cheeks reddened as she attempted to scoot behind the only man in the crowd, a robust big-bellied father, as she knew exactly what Clopin was about to do.

"Let's ask…" Puppet also began to scan the audience before pointing directly at Nadja. "Her!"

"Oui!" Clopin waved Nadja over, the pot-bellied gentleman turning around, clapping his hands once, and then gently pushing her over towards the cart. "A suggestion, belle mademoiselle?"

Clopin grinned as the blush darkened on Nadja's cheeks, the poor young girl looking around nervously, the other French peasants smiling pleasantly and urging her to choose a story, the children all shouting out their favorites. Suddenly, a thought popped into Nadja's head and a sly smile appeared, Clopin's own smile faltering for just the tiniest of seconds.

"Surely, such a fine storyteller as yourself, knows the story of Lon Po Po." Nadja crossed her arms, a daring challenge in her eyes. She had thought she caught Clopin, not expecting him to know the Chinese tale, and by the slight dulling of his eyes, she knew she had caught him. Her grin widened until he raised a hand to silence the audience.

"Oh ho! Indeed I do, mademoiselle. An interesting choice." Clopin raised an eyebrow at Nadja, who merely shrugged, before he put a highly apologetic smile his face, turning to the children. "Un moment, s'il vous plaît."

Clopin ducked quickly behind the windowsill, Puppet staying up momentarily to blow some more kisses. A sharp rap to his head, however, sent the little puppet into the cart as well. Only a few seconds later, the scene in the background changed – a quaint little hut on top of a hill – all painted in dark, dull colors appearing before the crowd.

And so Clopin began his tale of three sisters and a deceiving wolf who pretended to be their grandmother, or Lon Po Po, while their mother went to visit their real grandmother. Every child was expressing their nervousness and fear for the sisters as they gasped and yelled for the sisters to be careful. Clopin watched the expressions play across Nadja's face as he reenacted the tale with his puppets. He could see the wonderment and excitement in her eyes even though she smiled politely throughout the entire thing, applauding with the rest of the audience when Clopin was done.

As the children ran from their mothers, whom they asked for a few coins from, back to the storyteller, dropping the change into a little bucket hanging from the side of the window, Clopin smiled and greeted each one by name. He seemed to get along quite well with all the children who told him that they would be back in the afternoon for his next show, Clopin grinning like he was the star of the show, which he was. Even still, Nadja noted the quick look of disgust at the few older audience members who simply left without a word of gratitude or tip for the young gypsy man. Nadja waited patiently at the end of the line, smiling pleasantly at all the cheerful children who ran back to their parent, still waving at Clopin. Before she knew it, the space in front of the cart was clear besides her. Looking up, she saw the triumphant grin on Clopin's face, an expectant look in his eyes.

"Terrible. The worst story I have ever heard. You completely and totally butchered it." Nadja made a disgusted face and stuck out her tongue.

Clopin hopped over the windowsill and landed gracefully in front of her, his arms crossing his chest and a foot tapping impatiently. "You're a liar, mademoiselle."

Nadja laughed, a smile gracing Clopin's lips at her merriment. "Yes, yes I am. It was absolutely wonderful. Bravo!"

Clopin bowed several times and began to thank various people in the square including the baker and the smelly fisherman nearby. Nadja only shook her head, still highly amused by Clopin's antics. His self praise was suddenly interrupted by Puppet.

"Did you see me, mademoiselle?!" Puppet began to tug at her sleeve, Clopin telling him to mind his manners. "Was I not also amazing?"

"You were the best part of the show, Puppet!" Nadja leaned down and gave Puppet a quick kiss on his cheek. Puppet's arms fluttered for a moment before one of his little hands reached up to his cheek where she pecked him.

Puppet turned to Clopin who had a scandalized look on his face, clearly upset at the attention Puppet was getting over him. "See, I told you she was only here for me."

"Indeed, you little scoundrel."

Clopin replaced Puppet back into his tunic, where he put it was something Nadja could not figure out as the costume was so form fitting yet there was no obvious bump where the little puppet was hidden. At Nadja's quirked eyebrow, Clopin merely shrugged as if reading her mind. "That, mademoiselle, is a secret I will never tell."

Nadja merely nodded, her feet beginning to shuffle as she tried to think of something to say. She could feel Clopin's gaze on her and she began to quickly go through her options, disregarding every thought that popped into her mind as too lame or boring. When the silence became too unbearable, she blurted out the first thing that presented itself. "Are you hungry?"

Clopin paused before answering, just long enough that Nadja began to ramble. "I mean, if you are, we could, perhaps, go eat something. Not like a couple or anything. Like friends. But, I would understand if you are busy. I mean, if you do not want to, that would be fine as well. I am rambling."

Nadja sighed and hung her head, shaking it and muttering to herself about how stupid she must sound, one hand coming up to smack itself on her forehead. Clopin chuckled, causing Nadja to look up at him.

"I would be honored to join you for lunch." Clopin offered his arm to her. Nadja smiled and placed her hand on it, glad for his acceptance of her offer. "Do you have anywhere in mind?"

"No. I did not think that far ahead yet. As if you could not tell."

Nadja made a face, her lips squishing together and quirking to one side of her face while her nose crinkled. This, by far, was the funniest face Clopin had ever seen a person make and held in a snort, not wanting to offend the poor girl who was trying so hard to make friends in a new town.

"There's a pub a few blocks away. They've got the best pecan pie in all Paris."

"Is that so?" Nadja thought for a moment. "I shall have to see if I can eat a piece after my meal."

"Psh! You have to have some pie. What kind of person doesn't like pie?"

Nadja placed her hands on her hip, sticking her tongue out briefly. "I never said I did not like pie, but pie is not a lunch."

"I don't know where you come from, but pie sounds like the best lunch there is."

The pair felt back into silence after this, nothing unpleasant and much more comfortable than before, a cheerful smile still on Nadja's face from Clopin's comment. Clopin took the opportunity to study Nadja more careful now that he was closer to her than yesterday and her attention was distracted by a few of the storefronts they passed on their way to the restaurant. While she had blushed several times in his presence and had a few nervous habits, Nadja had a sharp enough tongue and wit to match even his. Even now, while her hands were folded delicately behind her back with her eyes lowered, she held herself upright, not too stiff but confident, an air of self-assurance and pride surrounding her. The woman was a walking contradiction of gentle politeness and certain toughness. If anything, Nadja intrigued him far more than many of the people he met and he was interested in finding out more about her before the day had ended. After a few moments, the pair arrived at Le Baiser Salé, a pub and restaurant only a few blocks away from where Clopin performed every day. It was a bit nicer than Le Bourreau, having a much quieter atmosphere, but still friendly to all sorts of paying patrons. Nadja quirked an eyebrow at Clopin's choice, her eyes looking up at the street sign.

"Le Baiser Salé? That means The Salty Kiss in your native French, no?"

Clopin chuckled, surprised that she had bothered to read the name and impressed by the fact that she could even read to begin with, something he had never been taught. Yet another thing that he began to think about. "Yes, that is what it means."

"I hope you do not think I am some sort of easy woman, señor."

"Anything but, mademoiselle." Clopin smiled, amused by how quick she picked up on the name, a thoughtful look in his eyes as one hand came up to stroke his goatee. "I simply wanted to offer you a charming lunch in one of the best places in the city since you are new here. This is your first time in Paris, isn't it?"

"Not the first time, but my most recent. It has been over a decade since I last came here." A sad smile passed over Nadja's face, her eyes lowering and glancing away, not wanting Clopin to see the glistening wetness that had begun to form in them. She quickly wiped her eyes and shook her hair out, a pleasant smile back on her face. "I do not believe this pub was here when I was."

"Non. It is fairly new." It was painfully obvious to Clopin that Nadja did not want to talk about the last time she was in Paris and he decided to get her mind off the subject. Clopin opened the door for Nadja, letting her pass through first, her saying thank you as she walked in. Once they were seated, Clopin picked up the conversation again. "The owners only moved here a few years ago. They're from England. Ever been there in your journeys?"

"Sí. A number of times actually. Not one of my favorite places to travel to. I am not inclined to the rainy weather they seem to have year round." At Clopin's questioning look, Nadja pointed to her hair which fell in soft waves down past the swell of her back, nearly to her knees. "Frizzes the hair."

"Ah! I see. That's a perfectly reasonable reason." Nadja nodded, giggling at Clopin's statement.

"A perfectly reasonable reason." The waitress, a pretty young girl with dirty blonde hair pulled into braided pigtails, took their orders. When she walked away, Clopin posed a question that had been on his mind since they left his cart.

"I am assuming that it is safe to assume that you have been at least somewhere near the Orient." Nadja quirked an eyebrow at his statement, nodding her head for him to continue. "Lon Po Po. It's a Chinese tale, similar in concept to our Little Red Riding Hood. Where did you hear it if not in the Orient?"

"I did hear it in the Orient; though, that was not the first time. My parents told it to me when we journeyed across Asia. It was one of my favorites growing up. And you? Where did you hear the story?"

"A Chinese gambler I met at a bar."

"Interesting." Nadja quirked an eyebrow at this. "Care to tell me how between you two drinking and gambling you learned Chinese folk lore."

"You are quite the skeptic."

"I warned you."

"Indeed you did." Clopin paused, leaning back into his chair, making himself comfortable. "We were both at a table, playing cards and drinking. And with drinking comes stories. As the night went on, we began to tell each other about ourselves. I told him I was a local storyteller. He taught me a few Chinese stories. It was a fair tradeoff until I swindled him out of all of his money and I found his mug propelled towards my face at an alarming speed."

"And that is why I do not gamble."

Clopin grinned, not picturing the young girl across from him gambling, let alone being in a shady pub drinking. At that moment, the waitress arrived with their meals. Nadja had simply asked for a bowl of their onion soup and some bread while Clopin, true to his word, ordered a slice of pecan pie and a mug of beer. Nadja had shaken her head when he had done this and he commented on how his mother would have his head if she saw what he was eating, causing Nadja to laugh.

"Enjoying your pie?"

Clopin looked up from his plate from which he had previously been shoveling large amounts of the pie into his mouth. Even now, an enormous amount of the dessert was on his spoon, which had stopped merely an inch away from his mouth that a bit of the still un-chewed crust was sticking out from. He nodded eagerly before returning to feasting on his dessert, Nadja watching with much interest. Before she had even finished a quarter of her soup, Clopin had asked the waitress for another slice of the pecan pie and some baked chicken. Both were promptly brought out and consumed at an extraordinary speed, leaving Nadja feeling like she should eat faster when Clopin was done and she still had some left in her bowl.

"You're still eating?" Clopin leaned back into his chair, a hand coming up to rub his very full belly.

"I do not shovel my food into my mouth so quickly that I cannot taste it before swallowing." Nadja stuck out her tongue. "Besides, I am actually enjoying my meal."

"Hmph! I enjoyed my meal. It was just so tasty I had to eat more of it as fast as I could."

Nadja giggled and finished the last of her soup, dabbing her lips with a napkin, Clopin watching with fascination. "What?"

"Nothing."

Nadja quirked an eyebrow and Clopin waved it aside. She continued to look at him, confusion clearly defined in her eyes before shrugging it off. After paying the bill, which Clopin refused to let Nadja help with, the girl's lips going thin and pouty at this, the pair left the pub, both pleasantly full and content. They walked in companionable silence down the street back towards Clopin's cart. When they reached the outrageously painted wagon, Clopin leaned against its side, resting for a moment, Nadja looking up with interest at the top of Notre Dame that could just barely been seen above the rooftops. Just then, the bells rang out that it was one in the afternoon.

"I should return to my own cart." Nadja changed her glance from the cathedral began to Clopin who had taken Puppet back out.

"But mademoiselle, don't you want to stay for the next performance?"

"I would love to Puppet, but I must make a living as well." Nadja leaned down and placed a quick kiss on Puppet's cheek, causing the sad puppet to perk up a bit more. Turning her attention to Clopin, she tried her best to gauge whether to shake his hand or hug him. He made the choice easy for her by gently kissing her knuckles before sweeping her up into a friendly hug.

"I had a wonderful lunch, mademoiselle."

"As did I." Nadja smiled pleasantly, pausing for a moment. "Am I going to see you tomorrow?"

"Depends. You coming to my show?"

Nadja shuffled her foot on the ground, kicking a small pebble between Clopin's legs, a small "Oops!" passing her lips before she could stop it. Clopin chuckled and Nadja pretended as if nothing had happened, her feet now perfectly still.

"It depends. I would love to, but I doubt I am going to sell anything today which means I may not be able to come."

Her face crinkled itself, her nose twitching to one side as she thought. Clopin could not stop the little laugh from escaping this time and Nadja merely stuck out her tongue at him.

"Perhaps, if I can, I'll stop by your cart."

"And I will come too!"

Nadja giggled, patting Puppet on the head. "That would be lovely. And perhaps I will treat you to lunch."

"Non!" Clopin shook his head, waving aside her suggestion with his hand. "How ungentlemanly would that be of me? I must refuse."

"Then perhaps a small homemade lunch? Sandwiches. Some cheese. A bottle of wine."

"That, mademoiselle, sounds perfect. Tomorrow at your cart, say around noon. Oui?"

"Sí. Perfect."

Clopin bowed once more and Nadja laughed as she walked away, Puppet once more blowing kisses and exclaiming his undying love for the beautiful lady, earning himself a whack from Clopin. Nadja waved once more at the pair before they left her sight, a genuine smile on her lips.

Author's Note: So, this chapter wasn't originally planned to be this long or heck, even planned this way. It, honestly, was planned to be a fairly short chapter with a bit of a different scene, but it just kinda came out this way when I was typing it and who am I to go against what my brain and imagination clearly wants me to do. Turned out to be the longest chapter ever. Hopefully it wasn't too long and that you enjoyed it. D

Buenos días (Spanish): Good
Merci (French): Thank you
Bonjour (French): Good morning
Mademoiselle (French): title for a young girl or unmarried woman
Señor (Spanish): mister
Non (French): No
Sí (Spanish): Yes
Mon Dieu (French): My God
Mon cher (French): my dear
Conteur (French): Storyteller
Oui (French): Yes
Belle (French): beautiful
Un moment, s'il vous plaît (French): "A moment, please."
Le Baiser Salé (French): The Salty Kiss
Le Bourreau (French): The Hangman