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31_days2005-11-20 04:48 pm
amethystlight.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-11-20 04:48 pm
[Nov 20] [Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame] Change Doesn't Always Change
Title: Change Doesn't Always Change
Date/Theme: Nov. 20 / Hope not built on blindness
Series: Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Characters: (OCs) Jehan, Melisande, Aubrey, Silvana, misc
Rating: PG
Jehan smiled as he walked through a clearing where some low stages had been built amongst the sea of tents and wagons within the underground cavern. Acrobats were practicing for an upcoming festival and a gaggle of gypsy children were watching, a few imitating the actions. Perhaps those few had the talent to become performers one day. He would have loved to stop and give advice but he had things to do.
He had to pause, however, when he caught sight of his own son, Aubrey, playing tag with some other boys -- as well as a couple of girls. Most noticeably was the Court's new Princess, Silvana. She had her grandfather's flamboyance, always dressing in the brightest colors and making sure her voice was the one most heard. Jehan smiled. He was close to the young princess, too, as his wife had taken it upon herself to raise the girl as if she was her own daughter. They had decided to not have any more children of their own, but there were plenty to look after, seeing as orphans came into the Court of Miracles with every other caravan from other places around France -- and even beyond there.
~*~
Melisande sat just inside the entrance of a particularly large tent, sewing needle poised over a pair of britches she was patching. A small pile of torn clothes lay beside her rickety chair, and someone would bring more before the day was out. She didn't mind. She was glad to have something to contribute. The twins Emmaline and Alycia constantly told her she was doing quite enough in helping to raise the Court orphans left in need with Paquette's absence. She always answered that they were doing a fine job, too. One of them would then comment about her other responsibilities, and she would merely smile wistfully in reply.
She was reaching for a shirt with one sleeve hanging off at the shoulder when a glimpse of someone from the corner of her eye made her lift her head, then smile. Jehan was back from council with Clopin. The irony was not lost on her. When he was younger he had been involved in far too much political intrigue for a boy to ever have to experience, due to some misfortune of luck that certain non-gypsy rogues thought him a good pawn in the war with the nobility of Paris and also to strike at Clopin. Now he was directly involved in the politics of the Court, having served as regent in Clopin's absence four years ago when a leader was desperately needed. He hadn't liked the idea, but he knew he had an obligation and there was no other more suited -- rumors from insurgents later said they wouldn't have accepted it any other way.
For all the trouble when he was younger, Jehan had earned the respect of many of his peers along with that of the majority of older members of the Court despite his lack of gypsy blood.
Melisande set down her sewing and stood to hug him when he came over, a smile on his face. He kissed her cheek then encouraged her to sit down again. "How did it go?" she asked.
"He's still being stubborn. I expected no less."
"But not completely unreasonable..?"
"Oh, he'll change his mind. He'll definitely see when the festival opens."
She sighed. "That lot needs supervision. They're too unruly to even be allowed here, I think."
Jehan shrugged. "This has always been the haven for all types. It's just a matter of prodding them to respect enough of the rules and stay in their appointed area."
"Hm-mm." Melisande turned her head as a half dozen children went careening by.
Jehan followed her gaze. "Don't worry, I doubt they'll bother the little ones. It's the older set I'm concerned for." She looked up at him, grimacing. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "I've sent out warnings. If the girls don't heed them, well, that's where our disguised guards come in."
She relaxed slightly and smiled. "Jehan, have I ever told you you're a genius?"
"Not often enough," he replied with a grin.
"Mama! Papa!" A darkish-blond haired boy ran up to them. Jehan lowered himself to one knee and held out his arms. Aubrey avoided the hug, running to the right and circling back around, giggling. Jehan smiled then looked to the smaller, ebony-haired girl following in his wake. She skipped once and tripped, tumbling right into Jehan's arms. She laughed as he picked her up; they both knew she had done it on purpose.
Jehan looked from one child to the other, a content smile coming to his face. There were still ruffians and city guards to deal with, there was still the hatred of Parisian citizens, there were still times when the winters got too cold and food too scarce, there were festivals that didn't bring enough coin. Yet there were always survivors to carry on and try again the next day, the next month, the next season, the next year. The residents of the Court of Miracles would likely never know what it was like to live in a fancy estate with all the food, clothing, riches, and lack of danger they could ever dream of. But for all the reality of such a thing, the dreams of a campfire, a bowl of stew, a song, and a gathering of friends and family -- blood relation or not -- was quite enough to keep their hope alive.
Date/Theme: Nov. 20 / Hope not built on blindness
Series: Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Characters: (OCs) Jehan, Melisande, Aubrey, Silvana, misc
Rating: PG
Jehan smiled as he walked through a clearing where some low stages had been built amongst the sea of tents and wagons within the underground cavern. Acrobats were practicing for an upcoming festival and a gaggle of gypsy children were watching, a few imitating the actions. Perhaps those few had the talent to become performers one day. He would have loved to stop and give advice but he had things to do.
He had to pause, however, when he caught sight of his own son, Aubrey, playing tag with some other boys -- as well as a couple of girls. Most noticeably was the Court's new Princess, Silvana. She had her grandfather's flamboyance, always dressing in the brightest colors and making sure her voice was the one most heard. Jehan smiled. He was close to the young princess, too, as his wife had taken it upon herself to raise the girl as if she was her own daughter. They had decided to not have any more children of their own, but there were plenty to look after, seeing as orphans came into the Court of Miracles with every other caravan from other places around France -- and even beyond there.
~*~
Melisande sat just inside the entrance of a particularly large tent, sewing needle poised over a pair of britches she was patching. A small pile of torn clothes lay beside her rickety chair, and someone would bring more before the day was out. She didn't mind. She was glad to have something to contribute. The twins Emmaline and Alycia constantly told her she was doing quite enough in helping to raise the Court orphans left in need with Paquette's absence. She always answered that they were doing a fine job, too. One of them would then comment about her other responsibilities, and she would merely smile wistfully in reply.
She was reaching for a shirt with one sleeve hanging off at the shoulder when a glimpse of someone from the corner of her eye made her lift her head, then smile. Jehan was back from council with Clopin. The irony was not lost on her. When he was younger he had been involved in far too much political intrigue for a boy to ever have to experience, due to some misfortune of luck that certain non-gypsy rogues thought him a good pawn in the war with the nobility of Paris and also to strike at Clopin. Now he was directly involved in the politics of the Court, having served as regent in Clopin's absence four years ago when a leader was desperately needed. He hadn't liked the idea, but he knew he had an obligation and there was no other more suited -- rumors from insurgents later said they wouldn't have accepted it any other way.
For all the trouble when he was younger, Jehan had earned the respect of many of his peers along with that of the majority of older members of the Court despite his lack of gypsy blood.
Melisande set down her sewing and stood to hug him when he came over, a smile on his face. He kissed her cheek then encouraged her to sit down again. "How did it go?" she asked.
"He's still being stubborn. I expected no less."
"But not completely unreasonable..?"
"Oh, he'll change his mind. He'll definitely see when the festival opens."
She sighed. "That lot needs supervision. They're too unruly to even be allowed here, I think."
Jehan shrugged. "This has always been the haven for all types. It's just a matter of prodding them to respect enough of the rules and stay in their appointed area."
"Hm-mm." Melisande turned her head as a half dozen children went careening by.
Jehan followed her gaze. "Don't worry, I doubt they'll bother the little ones. It's the older set I'm concerned for." She looked up at him, grimacing. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "I've sent out warnings. If the girls don't heed them, well, that's where our disguised guards come in."
She relaxed slightly and smiled. "Jehan, have I ever told you you're a genius?"
"Not often enough," he replied with a grin.
"Mama! Papa!" A darkish-blond haired boy ran up to them. Jehan lowered himself to one knee and held out his arms. Aubrey avoided the hug, running to the right and circling back around, giggling. Jehan smiled then looked to the smaller, ebony-haired girl following in his wake. She skipped once and tripped, tumbling right into Jehan's arms. She laughed as he picked her up; they both knew she had done it on purpose.
Jehan looked from one child to the other, a content smile coming to his face. There were still ruffians and city guards to deal with, there was still the hatred of Parisian citizens, there were still times when the winters got too cold and food too scarce, there were festivals that didn't bring enough coin. Yet there were always survivors to carry on and try again the next day, the next month, the next season, the next year. The residents of the Court of Miracles would likely never know what it was like to live in a fancy estate with all the food, clothing, riches, and lack of danger they could ever dream of. But for all the reality of such a thing, the dreams of a campfire, a bowl of stew, a song, and a gathering of friends and family -- blood relation or not -- was quite enough to keep their hope alive.