The Rhythm of Rain Drops

It was a dark and rainy day as he rode through the city of Paris. Usually, he would ride in his steel carriage, but today was a different day, one that had him feeling dreary, but at the same time he was oddly calm, at peace with himself and the world around him.The clip-clops of his horse walking along the cobbled streets matched the rhythm of the rain as it came down from above, each drop falling from the dark clouds slowly moving through the sky.

He finally came along an alleyway that led from the main streets, from all the shops and the whatnot. He normally wouldn't take this route either, but again, something felt different today.His black steed stopped and whickered, stamping its right foot a bit anxiously. It was almost as if it could sense the difference in its rider's mood. It had grown used to all of Frollo's normal activities. Going mainly from the Palace of Justice to Notre Dame, and back. There would be small trips to the King's Palace and to the square but those trips were far and few.

The Minister and Judge gently tugged at the reins, the light tug caught the steed's attention and within a few short seconds, the horse willingly obeyed the silent command.

It was in this alleyway that Gypsies would be performing their little sorcery and tricks, practically stealing money from the fools who would be idiotic enough give them a coin. But it was the Gypsies who cast their spells, entranced them, tricked them into handing over their gold. But he wasn't on a Gypsy hunt today.

Today, he was just simply enjoying the rainy weather and a stroll. He wasn't wearing the mantle of Judge and Minister Claude Frollo. He just simply Claude Frollo, a man out for a stroll.

As he rode through the alleyway, taking a note of how empty the street seemed to be, he came to a stop at the end of the alley. Yet another corner where the Gypsies would work their magic. He couldn't help admitting that once in awhile he did actually enjoy hearing the cheerful music. It was quite upbeat and different than the solemn quiet hymns of God and his angels. But he couldn't let himself enjoy the music. They were blasphemous spell crafters, witches, demons, children of Satan.

Shoving any ill thoughts, or any inkling of the Gypsies out of his mind, Frollo urged his horse to walk again. The black stallion barely took a few steps when a voice spoke, clearly audible among the soft pounding of the rain all around him.

"Nice weather."

The voice sent a jolt through his thin body. He immediately looked around. The usual paranoia inside of him was beginning to stir within him, murmuring that someone was nearby, watching his every move.

No! Not today! The man thought bitterly. Again, he willed himself to keep his composure while his dark eyes scanned the dark shadows of the alley, searching, looking for the owner of the voice.

The voice had been cool and calm, but with a steel edge to it. It was quite familiar actually. But for him to be out on a dark dreary rainy day like this? It was quite odd. But at the same time, having heard his voice was oddly comforting.

He finally spotted a dark figure huddled on the ground, almost blending into the shadows. The figure lifted his head and from under his wide-brimmed dark blue hat, he saw that it was the King of Gypsies, Clopin Trouillefou. But instead of wearing his usual brightly colorful fuschia and gold outfit, the Gypsy King was just wearing dark blue and purple outfit. It seemed to match both of their moods.

Frollo was a bit unnerved by the stony stare given by the Gypsy, but he kept his composure and glanced around again, rolling his eyes before finally responding. "Not really. But then, I prefer rain. Too much sun hurts my eyes."

"Really?" Clopin raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I never would have guessed."

The gypsy man smirked, his tone both cold and somewhat jovial. There was a lot of malice between the two men, but Clopin had some sort of respect for the public official. If only due to his determination. No one else in the history of Paris had ever fought so hard to cleanse the world or in the least Paris, of his people.

"I never would have guessed that the Judge of Paris would have such a weakness to the sun." There it was again. That cold teasing tone. It was almost antagonizing.

Frollo gripped the reins even harder, fighting the urge to spew an insult at the younger man. But oddly enough, he couldn't even think of anything. The man just sat on his horse, glaring down at the Gypsy King, his body tensing from anger.

Clopin allowed himself to chuckle inwardly with satisfaction at seeing his mortal enemy not responding to his words. He then smiled his toothy smile, his own eyes narrowing, glittering with hate. "Careful, your honor, don't let this demon spawn get under your skin." He said this a little more lighthearted then he liked, but Frollo was never one to laugh off what he thought was an insult. The man had too much pride sometimes.

Frollo muttered something inaudible under his breath before tugging on his horse's reins, making the beast walk again.

Clopin couldn't help what happened next. He finally stood up and started walking alongside the Minister and his horse. It surprised not only him but Frollo as well.

"Just what do you think you are doing, Gypsy?" Frollo hissed, keeping his composure. His eyes suddenly scanned his surroundings, as if expecting an ambush by Gypsies.

Clopin's laugh resonated in the air and the tanned man just shook his head. "Is it a crime to merely walk down the street now? To enjoy a rainy day stroll?" His tone dripped with sarcasm, but he stared at the older man, studying his profile, gauging his reaction as he asked this.

"If that is all, then no. Just don't talk to me." Frollo grunted, and he stared straight ahead, guiding his horse along the street one more, relishing the feel of the cool summer rain landing on his head and shoulders. It felt good, to be honest. After a bad heat wave, the rain was a welcome reprieve from the heat.

Clopin seemed to share the same sentiments for he walked beside him, not uttering a single word. Their steps seemed to match the rhythm of the raindrops as they just walked aimlessly through the rain, enjoying the coolness the damp weather brought. If only they could have more rainy days like this.