To Walk Through a Dream Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven With Wavering Footsteps Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Stone Song Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three A Tale of Winter Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Destiny Inescapable Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Epilogue The Cycle's Continuing Beginnings Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Two Spirits Akin

[A/N: The Usual Stuff: Michael Eisner, in a sudden fit of inspiration one day, realized that the rights to Victor Hugo's "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" were up for grabs, and, leaping out of the bathroom (a most fantastic place to be inspired) ran down the hallway shouting "Eureka! I've got it! Our next box-office smashing classic! We'll be rich!!!" His company is now currently in possession of the rights to the Clopin Troillefou we so dearly adore, as well as Phoebus, Esmerelda, Quasimodo, Djali, and Achilles. I'm stealing them anyway. My many thanks to Karen, for allowing me the use of her characters Therese Darbois and Anne, as well as my continuous, sometimes to the point of perhaps being annoying, thanks to Shiriluna for her support in these endeavors. A word from the Watcher: To those of you who have enjoyed my previous tales, this is a sort of warning, to those of you who have not cared for my past writings, this is a sort of invitation. This tale does not include the character of Rayven DreamWalker in any way, although Marya does appear here in an extremely minor role. This story does include the above-mentioned characters from the Disney movie, as well as Therese Darbois and Anne. My style of writing here is not quite the same as you might be used to, and contains more humour and less mystery than my previous tales, although there is a more metaphysical concept running along the plot, as hinted by the sub-title. Um...I've rambled long enough. Is it just me, or do these things get longer every time?] A Tale of Winter (In balance, Imbalance) By ~Reya Cil~ Chapter One Anne surveyed the tavern unobtrusively with one blue eye from behind the counter. She was trying not to be noticed by the proprietor for fear of being sent up to bed, and she was waiting, hoping, for one particular customer. It was fairly empty, as not many wished to brave the cold weather this late at night, even for Madame Darbois' tavern. The few patrons they had tonight were ragged and lean, and Therese would not let Anne serve them on the off-chance that they might be dangerous. It was clear that the four mangy customers had already spent what little coin they had and it was getting late, so Madame Darbois was about to turn them out as gently as possible and close up the tavern when the door swung open wildly. A tall, wiry figure in a tattered cloak fought the wind to shut the door again, then removed his cloak and shook the snow off his bedraggled hat. Anne noticed a distinct lack of his usual flamboyance, but he still remembered to wave at her and playfully deposited his hat on Therese Darbois' head as he strode across the room to join the other patrons. Therese did not disturb them while they huddled around the fireplace in terse conversation. After a moment or two of this Anne noticed a gypsy charm being passed around, and they began to gather up what cloaks they had and leave. Clopin retrieved his hat and Therese caught his arm as he turned to go. "Not buying supper for them?" She inquired with a raised eyebrow. "Not tonight, my dear Madame." "You must stay at least a few minutes longer." She demanded. Her voice was soft, but there was a stubbornness to be reckoned with behind it. Clopin turned to where the small group of beggars and thieves waited for him by the door and waved them on to go without him. She locked the door behind them and led Clopin to the counter, where she noticed Anne watching them. "Go on. Off to bed now." "But can't I at least--" "No. It's very late." Anne looked to Clopin for support, but he seemed to be lost in thought, oblivious to the small argument. Reluctantly she removed her apron and headed up the stairs. Therese bustled about cheerily for a few moments, and when she turned back she set a plate of dinner before him, but stopped whistling when she saw his distracted and mournful gaze out the window. "Harsh winter this year, isn't it." she stated softly. He let out a weary sigh before he caught himself and managed a familiar smile as he turned back to her, but Therese had noticed the change. She rapped him on the end of the nose with a wooden spoon. "You may wear masks when you perform for the children, but you will not wear one with me!" she said angrily. His smile faltered a moment as he considered her words, then he dropped the pretense entirely and gave in to the weight in his mind. The effect was more startling than Therese had anticipated. His head hung and he slouched on the stool. The expression of grief and worry on his face was so unfamiliar that he almost looked like a different person, and it seemed to weigh upon him so heavily that he needed the counter for support. "I haven't coin enough for this even." He said softly, indicating the supper. "Is there......anything I can do to help?" "Charitable of you, but even the King of Vagabonds cannot save his people. Many a gypsy may die before this winter is through with us. Madame Darbois alone cannot provide enough food for all of the Court of Miracles." Chapter Two