A/N: So...okay how to explain how this happened. Well, I've been keeping up with a YouTuber known as Nostalgia Critic, and every year around this time he does a series of videos known as Disneycember. This year he is reviewing Disney's direct to video/DVD sequels, one of which includes the Hunchback of Notre Dame II. Now, while this movie is severely flawed in several ways, I do like it a great deal...

And so, near the end of the video, he said this:
"I don't even know how to fix it. What would you do with Hunchback of Notre Dame II? It just seems like the first one ended perfectly. I don't know. Maybe there's a better writer out there that can make this work..."

Me: Challenge accepted!

Not saying I'm a better writer or anything. I'm not. I'm most certainly an amateur, but I like to challenge myself and I like stretching the imagination, so I'm going to attempt this project. Rather than rewrite the story though, I am going to attempt to enhance it because there is certainly room for improvement here, regardless of my enjoying it the way it is presently. At the same time, I don't want to do too much and make it unrecognizable. Plus, this is a Disney property, something I have never written for before as I tend to stick to anime in terms of fanfiction, but sometimes you just have to try something new and a bit more lighthearted. (Anime stories tend to get a little dark sometimes.)

Disclaimer: Walt Disney Studios are the proud owners of this property, not me. This is a fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only. No lawsuits please.

Warnings: This story is rated T to be safe as I do intend to make the original story of this film slightly darker to more closely match the tone of the first film. There will also be a few original characters present here.

Enjoy!


Prologue: Fairytales and Festivals


Fairytales begin with "once upon a time" or with a book magically opening to the page where the story starts to unfold.

But this story, my story, well it was never meant to be anything like that. I was never meant to experience happiness or joy. I deluded myself into thinking it was possible over and over again with dreams of dancing gracefully across a tightrope high above the ground with a fancy umbrella in hand and large crowd chanting my name. Having such a dream is ironic really, considering my fear of heights.

However, something about being up high was enthralling, even with the nerves rolling through my system each time I dared to to take a step on the unsteady line between life and death...

Okay, perhaps I'm exaggerating a bit. The tightrope I practice on is never more than a couple feet off from the floor.

Even so, each time I practice my moves successfully-which isn't often unfortunately-the burdens weighing down on my shoulders feel lighter and from that point forward my wish is to tie the rope a notch or two higher.

Recently, I've been inspired to practice more, to reach for my dream with more fervor than ever before thanks to the kindness of a man I was ordered to kill.

I might even be in love with him now.

That's the worst part about all of this. Whatever good he sees in me is going to disappear in a few short minutes. The assignment given to me was very clear and though I know it's wrong to walk this path, there's no other option open to me, no hope for a better future beyond the fortune I gain as payment for carrying out Sarouch's dirty work. And besides that, I'm not the only one calling this circus troupe home. There are several others that accompany us and with each year we gain more and more people. Some of them are common thieves looking for an easy way to make money while others are genuinely good people who simply have no other means to support themselves and their families.

I'm not sure which group I fit into.

And if I fail to go through with this deed, I won't be the only person to suffer the consequences. Many of my friends will be affected too. Sarouch made certain to make me very aware of what would happen to them and to me.

Do I choose to save the life of one man I barely know over the lives of the people who have been the closest thing to a family?

The choice should be simple.

The path I must take should be clear and obvious.

It isn't.

Standing in the halls of Notre Dame before the statue of Jesus Christ, it dawns on me that this moment is akin to that tightrope hundreds of feet off the ground, the tightrope I had hoped to cross unscathed, but one way or another I am going to fall. There's no way to stay balanced on this line between life and death.

All that remains now is a choice.

On which side should I fall?


Three days earlier

In the late hours of the morning along the cobblestone streets of Paris, a group of young children strayed from their parents who were busily admiring the decorations for the upcoming Le Jour d'Amour festival as they were quickly set up in the town square below the towering cathedral of Notre Dame. Pairs of young lovers were singing, dancing hand and hand along the vacant roads as the sun neared its highest point in the sky, vaguely aware of the figure draping streamers of gold and crimson over their heads.

The group of children flocked to the King of Gypsies himself, Clopin Trouillefou, while he gathered up several bouquets of multi-colored roses in his arms. There were so many bouquets in fact that the children could hardly see his face through them.

A little girl was the first to speak. "What are you doing Mr. Clopin?"

The gypsy king lowered the collection of bouquets away from his face just enough so he could see the faces of the expectant children below him. Though all of them were smiling, it was clear they wanted him to recant another tale of Paris and its many wonders.

Well, he certainly couldn't do that while carrying ten bouquets now could he?

And so, the mischievous man was quick to enlist the help of the children with his current task to decorate the topiary archway that had been placed atop a small stage in the center of the square. Once through with the task of sticking the multi-colored roses into the topiary arch, Clopin sat down on the edge of the stage and swiftly started up the famous tale of the bell ringer of Notre Dame.

"Seven years ago there lived an evil fiend by the name of Claude Frollo who set about to destroy all the gypsies in Paris," he began, looking toward the sky as the memories of those dark times filtered through his mind. "It was a time of great peril for my people and for all the citizens of this city, for he was determined to burn it to the ground just to find..."

"You telling that old story again?"

Clopin was suddenly very aware of the short figure standing behind him on the stage and it wasn't long before he realized just who the person was.

"Zephyr," he muttered gravely, his good mood ready to plummet into a sea of melancholy the second the boy jumped off the stage to stand next to him and the other children. With a wide grin the child easily swept the children's attention to his version of the famous tale, which consisted of pirates and monsters and other such things only a child's imagination could muster.

From behind him he heard a chuckle. "Sorry Clopin, it looks like my son is trying to put you out of the job."

His mood instantly returned to normal, a wide smile spreading over his face as he greeted his longtime friend.

"Esmeralda!" he beamed. "Good morning to you. It's been a while."

The raven-haired beauty chuckled at his enthusiasm. "Yes, you've been out of the city for quite some time. When did you get back?"

"Two days ago and just in time too." He turned and looked up toward the banisters where that same mysterious figure was hanging up more streamers. "Le Jour d'Amour...it's one of the city's finest festivals, second only to the Festival of Fools of course."

Esmeralda's smile softened, her own memories prompting her to glance at her husband as he continued working with the villagers.

"Can you believe seven years have passed since then?"

"I can believe it," Clopin answered jovially, but two seconds later he was pouting. "What I can't believe is that I'm a whole seven years older. Soon these kids will call me grandpa."

The gypsy woman lifted an index finger to her chin as a contemplative frown took over her features. "Hmm, sounds about right. You're starting to get up there in age, aren't you?" She smirked wickedly at him then, the free spirited girl coming out of her for a quick moment before retreating back into the confines of wife and mother.

Clopin playfully scowled at her. "Well, I'm willing to venture that you have a few grey hairs now with the rambunctious squirt over there."

"Zephyr is actually fairly well-behaved," Esmeralda commented before pointing behind her, not realizing that the blonde she was referring to was approaching and within hearing distance.

"Now Phoebus on the other hand..."

Before she could finish his arms were around her waist and he was planting a kiss on her cheek. "What's this I hear about me misbehaving?"

Esmeralda scoffed, seemingly unperturbed by her husband's sudden appearance. "Oh, nothing much, just that you act more like a child than Zephyr sometimes." With a challenging gleam in her eye she added," But I can handle you fairly easily."

"Oh, can you now? In what way?"

While the two of them continued to argue/flirt with one another, Clopin took the moment to look back toward the sky. Once again he saw that same mysterious, hunchbacked figure now venturing back to the tower of Notre Dame through the skies.

Smirking he silently departed from his friends and the town square altogether.

"I have a feeling there will be new stories to tell the children soon."

And in that moment, Clopin had no idea just how right he was.


A/N: Thanks for reading everyone! This was the pilot chapter of the story and from here some things will resemble the film very closely while others will stray from the original content in a major way. Be sure to leave your thoughts in that comment box below. Constructive criticism is certainly welcome.

Additional note: A song I listened to while writing the beginning section of this chapter is a composition titled Sand Dream by Yuki Kajira. If you'd like, take a listen to it. It's a beautiful piece.