The Limitations of Virtue

Fandom: Hunchback of Notre Dame

Pairing: Clopin/OC

Author: corvidae333/wanderkind0

Rating: PG-13 for now

Summary: Clopin is once again in prison, only this time someone has a very intriguing idea to get him out. Adult themes implied. Later, they will be explicit.

It was the third day of his capture and Clopin was already very bored with everything from teasing the guards to reading the gypsy code carved all over his cold stone cell. Such markings were all too predictable, revealing only insults towards the captors and intimate opinions regarding any number of women. His only amusing thoughts were that probably he'd had half the women discussed on the wall. He might be 36 and out of his prime but he was still capable of finding sex whenever he wanted it. With pleasant thoughts of ripped bodices and miller's daughters, he dosed off and began to feel warmer than he actually was.

Clopin was later awoken by the sound of a harsh banging noise on his cell door. One eye half-open, he saw that it was one of the guards and a very striking noblewoman. Wait…he'd seen her before. At festivals years previous she accompanied a Baron from somewhere in the Germanic country. He remembered finding the Baron, by appearance, a very dull and stiff fellow. "Oi! Gypsy! The lady wants a word with you!" the guard's gravely and coarse voice ejected. Clopin roused himself and sat up, curious what she could possibly want. He found her interest in him very amusing indeed and it took great will-power to avoid the grin his cheeks were insisting upon very determinedly at the moment. "Good morning, ma cherie. I'm sure it's finding you better than I. What on God's Earth would you with an old rascal and charlatan? You should know in advance that I don't do dinner parties." Normally his use of the intimate pet name ('ma cherie') would've cause a patroness such as herself before him to blush or fluster or call for the guards. But she would none. Her stare was implacable and unshaken. Certainly she was not a woman to toy with, but of course this merely instilled further desire in Clopin to do just that.

"You are Clopin. I have seen you at every festival I have attended here in Paris. I hear you are a notorious vagabond gypsy."

"I have not forgot myself, Madame. As the saying goes, however, 'gypsies don't do well behind stone walls.' Surely you must see how they make me wilt from their austerity, how they take the sparkle from my eyes and take away what merriment a man may have alone and unaccompanied." His ending euphemism was intended as a second try to put her ill-at-ease, but again it failed.

"Then by this account it would seem you are no longer a gypsy." It seemed she managed to turn his intentions against him and it was he who let out a loud laugh. He did catch, however, that she could not hide a smirk.

"I have employment for you if you are interested."

Clopin's smile faded and he gave her a look that was still curious, but also suspicious. "What makes you think I want employment?" he laughed coldly, "what makes you think I or any of my kind wants your despicable charity?"

She was not shaken. "Because firstly it will get you out of your morose stone walls; secondly, your pay will be handsome. And I dare say this sort of work will not put you in a place of ridicule with your people."

"Oh, indeed? And you know all about 'my people', I shall assume. I detest your offer still, but my curiosity beckons me to ask: what manner of employment is this?" Cynicism colored his tone.

She thought a moment before answering, and then without the slightest bit of shame she told him, "If you agree, I would expect you this very evening at my bedside, and that is all you shall hear for now. You have two hours to decide." She moved to place her large, elegant hood over her rich, chocolate brown hair.

Clopin chuckled, still looking suspicious. "I admit I am not clear on the particulars, Madame, but I'm sure you must guess that I would make a terrible nurse."

She crouched down near to where he lounged on the floor, her voice taking on a warmer, huskier tone than before and looking him penetratingly in the eye. "I don't need you to nurse me." And with that she left. After a few moments of astonishment, Clopin burst out laughing in his disbelief.

When she returned two hours later, she found him just as he was when she'd left. "I will have your answer."

Clopin longed to tease her, but decided against it for the moment. If he got on her bad side, he wouldn't be able to take advantage of the freedom she was offering him. He stroked his beard and glanced at her sideways. Maybe he would take his freedom without any intention of doing what she asked.

"If you're not interested, then I am not interested in standing here any longer." She turned to leave.

God's wounds, she drove a hard bargain! "Wait, wait, wait, please wait, ma cherie, I have given no answer!" he chuckled, surprised by her assertiveness yet again. He studied her. "Why with all the law-abiding citizens in Paris do you come after someone such as me?"

That little smirk appeared on her mouth again. "I prefer something a little more dangerous."

"Surely, your husband the Baron would object, no?"

"Most certainly. But for the sake of virtue, we have separate bedchambers, and he is away most weeks. He is an excellent husband. But I am not looking for a husband."

"You have complaints? Does he make love like a monk? How can this make him an excellent husband?"

"His money makes him an excellent husband. Let us say he is decidedly interested only in his accounts and his God."

He looked her up and down now, unsure if he was doing so because he was warming significantly to her proposal, or if he was merely trying to make her think that he was.

"I pity you Madame. As a Christian woman, you seem to have little appreciation for virtue, your husband is a dullard, and you must come to scoundrels such as myself to satisfy your baser instincts."

It was a slight, but she seemed also to know that he was teasing her. Besides, the talk of baser instincts was causing her to flush. Showing that she was not sensitive to his insult, she countered, "Merely as noble women of ancient Rome would seek the services of gladiators."

Clopin laughed. "I see…gladiator…"

"You're hardly a gladiator. But I dare say you'll do."

"I am not a whore, Madame."

"No, but you are a gypsy. You live outside our laws."

He looked her in the eyes, considering her proposal a little more seriously now. Maybe just once. A chance to bed a Baroness with looks as fierce yet refined as hers? It was once-in-a-lifetime. Maybe just the once, and then he'd disappear. After a few moments, Clopin held out his hand just behind the bars and she reached in and took it. "Madame, you have a deal." He turned her hand to place a lingering kiss on the underside of her wrist. Her gaze was fire. Reeling herself back in she stood to take her leave. "I will inform the guard. They will accompany you to my residence."

He smirked at her. "You don't trust me?"

She smirked back. "I am not a simpleton."

"No, Madame. That you are not."