Gypsies Are capable of Real Love
By Elyena

Chapter 1

Paris, the city of lovers, it is quite a beautiful city. The lakes illuminated the bright candle lit lamps, in a rainbow of colors. Quasimodo was ringing the evening mass; even the people in the court of miracles could hear the joyous tones. Small children scuttled around the floor and collected in a pile at the young Clopin’s feet. He smiled and lifted a small girl up into his arms.
“Salut Clopin! Tell us a story!” the children echoed around him.
“Of course my friends, what story would you like to hear?” asked Clopin setting down the small girl as the others scrambled into a circle around him.
“The bell ringer story!” shouted a boy. “No, no the goose and the beautiful princess!” Shouted another girl. “The Judge and his pajamas!” said another boy.
“Now children, if you can’t agree, you must come inside,” said a tall woman. “Besides it is time to go to sleep.” She was a bit overweight, but her masses of blond hair still held some of her youthful beauty.
“Aw Mama” said all eight children in unison.
The small Clopin puppet sprang into action. “Can’t they stay for just a little longer?” pleaded the puppet.
“Hush, if their mother wants them to go inside then they must go inside,” said Clopin.
“B- But” stuttered the Puppet.
“No Buts of any kind” said Clopin, rapping his puppet on the head. The children giggled and went over to their parents open arms.
The woman walked over to Clopin as he got up. “You are very good to my children Clopin. You are such a kind soul.”
“Oh, tis nothing Madam” he said adjusting his mask. “Children’s laughter is one of my favorite sounds, aside from the bells of course” he chuckled lightly to himself. It seamed he was alone; he decided to take a walk in the streets of Paris. As late as it was the streets were still crowded with people of all sorts. A particularly large crowd gathered around… what was it exactly. The crowd was so large Clopin could not see exactly what everybody was gapping at. Music was playing, a fast paced happy tune indeed. Clopin fought the crowd to get a better look. Now he realized why everybody was looking. A beautiful gypsy dancer and her brass horn accompaniment were there. Now he had seen many dancers in his lifetime, but this one was different. Her tall, slim figure could move and bend to the music with great ease. Her Dark brown, ringlets of hair reached all the way down to her slim waist. She did not look directly at him so her eye color was unknown to him. Her skin was a deep rich tan, much like his own shade. She wore a long Purple skirt, and a white blouse. A tan and red corset was bound across her waist, a dark black hooded cloak was folded neatly on the ground.
“Coming through people, make way” the voices of the guards rang over the music playing. The woman ran away in one direction, her musical friend in another. Clopin hid as well, if any gypsy was caught they were to be put in the stocks or hung.
“Nobody seams to be here, funny it was just teaming with people before. “ said one of the guards.
“We will catch her, no doubt about it. She will slip up sooner or later,” said the other guard, in a grunt like reply.
“Perhaps if we did not shout out that we were coming through, we would be able to catch her,” suggested the stout guard as the pair walked down the cobblestone path.
After the guards disappeared into the darkness Clopin followed the path of the woman. She looked about his own age; he was but twenty-three years of age. He found himself in the forest. He walked a good distance when he came to a lake. There he saw a cloaked figure. It could have been a man, if not for the few ringlet curls that slipped form the hood. “Hello” he said softly. The figure turned around still cloaked, her hand seamed to be drawing something from her garment. “Don’t worry, I am no guard. I am a gypsy like you.” She put the weapon back into her cloak as Clopin approached. The moon shone light on the woman as she looked directly at Clopin.
“I can’t trust you, unless you remove your mask,” she said. Her voice was smooth and light, like a soprano’s voice.
Slowly Clopin reached up and removed his mask and held onto it. He smiled at her and moved some of his jet-black hair from his face.
She too slowly reached up and placed her hands on her hood, hesitated as if she was doing this against her own better judgment. But nonetheless, she removed the hood. Clopin looked at her in aw, she was the single most beautiful woman he had ever seen. But her eyes, they were amazing. They were nothing like he has ever seen before. They were violet with traces of gold and jade green. They seamed to sparkle in the moonlight. Her lips were full and smooth looking. She walked closer to him “what is your name,” she asked.
Clopin blinked and cleared his throat, for it had gone dry. “Clopin, King of the Gypsies at the court of Miracles” he said with a bow “and you are?” he asked the madden.
“I have not a title as great as yours monsieur, I am just Danielle.”
“Danielle, beautiful” he mused. “I have never seen you before, are you new in the city of gay Paris?” Clopin asked putting his arms up and holding onto a tree-branch.
“Oh, I move as the wind blows. I move from one place to another. I can’t remember the last time I have settled down,” said Danielle, jumping lightly to hold unto the branch and climbing into the tree.
“How tragic” said Clopin pulling himself up into the tree beside her. “So have you not gotten close to anyone, had to leave the friends you made?”
“I er… have not made any friends. Unless I can call you a friend?” asked Danielle.
“Only if I may call you one, my dear” said Clopin.
She smiled at him in a way of saying of course. But still she sighed.
“What ever is the matter?” he asked Danielle.
“My partner ran off with the coins, and I have no place to go. I have no idea where he ran off. Oh well perhaps I can dance a Capella” said Danielle.
“Come stay at the court of miracles” suggested Clopin. He was not doing this to try to take advantage of her. He was not that kind of man. He was doing this, like he did to every other homeless Gypsy that crossed his path.
“Oh I could not. I don’t wish to trouble you, Clopin,” said Danielle. This was the firs man who was truly kind to her, who did not want something in return…. She hopes.
“There is plenty of room there. You will have a chance to make friends, perhaps you can make as many as two” he joked.
“Ah, so he is a jester” she said while putting his hat over his eyes. “All right thank you so much.”
“It is nothing mademoiselle” he said adjusting his hat. He jumped down from the tree in a back flip. He landed on his feet and held out his hand “shall we?”
She took his hand and he led her down from the tree. Once she was down she released his hand from her grasp. ‘He seams like a flirty, womanizer. But looks as if he has more moral’ Danielle thought to herself. ‘Perhaps he is the one… perhaps he can look over my past and my previous mistakes. We will just have to wait and see
.'

To be continued...

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