God Help the Outcasts: A Disney Crossover Fanfic

Chapter Nineteen: Sunlight

A/N: Absolute fave chapter in the story--you'll see why. ;) Remember to vote and follow if you're loving this story! 

Drizella bit her lip with worry as she and Clopin saw Esmeralda off, through the graveyard and into the burning Paris beyond. She didn't say a word until they were safely within the Court of Miracles.

"She'll be caught for sure. They're looking for her, you know."

Clopin smiled. "Esmeralda is the least likely of any of us to be caught," he said, "and there is really no use in stopping her from leaving. She will find a way out."

Drizella nodded, but it didn't make her feel any better. There was still a burning city out there, and a judge burning with rage. If Esmeralda was caught...

"Can I cook you a meal?"

Drizella met Clopin's gaze with surprise. What kind of a question was that? He simply grinned, and before she could stop herself she smiled back.

"Well, I suppose," she said, trying to fight off the warmth in her cheeks, "but why-"

"You know, your smile is quite beautiful," he said. Drizella blinked. She felt her blush deepening, and she gulped past a suddenly dry mouth.

Clopin cleared his throat and finally averted his eyes. "Well, come along," he said jovially, extending his arm toward his tent. He hurried ahead of her and disappeared into the tent, pinning back the flap so she could come inside. To her further surprise, there was already a pot full of water, bubbling away atop a small flame. Somehow Clopin had found or made a metal ring that encircled the pot and kept it hovering just above the fire.

He sat in front of this pot, chopping carrots, potatoes, onions and countless other vegetables into it quicker than she could follow. "Come, sit," he urged. She did, and watched as he seasoned the mixture in the pot with several handfuls of a pungent herb.

"Did you plan this?" she asked.

"Why, whatever do you mean?" Clopin avoided her eyes, but he was smiling. He gave the mixture in the pot a few more good stirs and then produced a finger puppet from behind his back. Drizella giggled, as it resembled Clopin almost perfectly. He began to sing, much like he had at the Festival, but this time the song was different.

"A sister whose name is Cinderella,

A past that is full of woe,

That is all I know of my dear Drizella,

That is all she would have me know."

Drizella couldn't help but laugh—the puppet had made the words sound so silly.

"That's not all you know about me," she protested with a smile.

"Au contraire!" he said. "I feel as if I hardly know you!"

Drizella thought about her mother, about Cinderella, about practically everything in her past, and her smile faded.

"You know enough," she said.

"Ah, see?" Clopin held up a finger. "There you are again, evading me. Don't friends learn more of each other as time goes along? I simply wish to do the duty of such a friend, and in return, you shall know more about me."

Drizella raised an eyebrow. To learn more about this man, perhaps one of very few who cared for her, was a very tempting offer. But could she pay the price? Would he leave her alone if he knew how cruel and petty she had been?

"Well, I..." she began to protest, but could not think of a legitimate need to hide from him besides her own fear of losing his friendship. But in order to keep him, I must risk losing him, she thought. And his kind eyes, wide and resting their concerned gaze on her burning face, affirmed her inner voice. "I suppose I have no choice," she relented.