Darling. (Erik/Phantom x Reader)

Three.

Merriweather Ferry

The English Channel 

***

Y/N slept through almost the entire ferry ride across the English channel, waking only when Charles shook her shoulder. When she came to, he stood above her in the small sitting room, where she had dozed off on a loveseat, and someone had placed a white blanket over her. No doubt it had been Charles, as her father preferred staying above deck at all times. 

"Teddy, do you want to come and see the French shoreline? We are approaching land." Charles spoke in a soft whisper, kneeling down to her level. 

She nodded, standing up from her small seat in the lower level of the boat and straightening out her skirts and corset. She followed Charles up to deck, and could see her father leaning against the guard railing of the ship's front. She went to him, and was greeted by the site of France's shore. 

"Wow... what city is that?" Y/N asked, seeing the gorgeous beachside town they were approaching. It's buildings were an array of colors, and its beach's sand was so white it looked like powdered sugar. 

"La Havre," Her father answered, "A major fishing port. We'll arrive, take the carriages off, and begin our journey to Paris." 

Y/N smiled, feeling the air in her hair and France in her future. 

***

The journey, in its entirety, took two full days. Y/N didn't mind, as she slept through most of it, and used the time to memorize and codify the music into her soul. She couldn't practice singing through the music as often as she would have liked to (really only singing it through twice, and in a soft tone as to not disturb any of the men). She also appreciated the scenic views of their carriage ride from La Havre to Paris, as they went through towns, cities, and villages before breaking through to their final destination. 

Now, they were riding through the streets of Paris, attracting loads of attention from bypassers. Most citizens assumed only someone incredibly important would demand a seven-carriage procession of this magnitude. 

Charles insisted they keep the curtains drawn, to protect their identities. Y/N always thought he was unnecessarily paranoid, and frequently looked out the windows as she blatantly ignored him. Once the carriage came to a sudden halt, she fully opened the window herself to be met with the most gorgeous building. It was rectangular, with a series of marble columns and golden statues of angels adorning the exterior. It caught her heart, as she realized this was the famous opera house she had so long dreamed of. 

"Papa... it's gorgeous." 

He looked away from his newspaper to peer out the window as well, "Hm. Quite nice." 

She giggled at him, such a typical Englishman. Once they pulled up in front of the main entrance, Charles and her father left the carriage first, and offered her assistance to get out.

The sunlight hit her face, and the warmth washed over her body. There it was: her future, in stone and marble. 

Out from the magnificently ornate main entrance came a familiar sir -- Carriere rushed down the steps to greet them. 

"Monsieur!" Her father exclaimed, offering his hand. The two shook, and the Monsieur turned towards her. 

"Mademoiselle, I humbly welcome you to my opera house," He bowed, his accent gracing every word as he spoke it, "I look forward to your audition tomorrow." 

"As do I," She curtseyed back, "I would love to take a tour of the opera while my father goes to our staying house -- if you wouldn't mind, that is?"

"Of course! Right this way."

As soon as they entered the main doors, she was again overcome by the beauty of the main room. It had a grand staircase, and gorgeous tiles and marbles and beautiful things left and right. She felt out of breath. 

"This is where we hold the majority of our special events," Carriere explained, "Masquerades and balls, banquets, everything."

"It is beyond gorgeous," She said, rushing to catch up with Carriere as she looked around still. Charles followed her, much less interested than she in the building, and tour itself. 

Once past the main room, they entered the theatre itself and she had to suppress her squeal. It was enormous, and covered in red velvet and golden detailing. Rows, upon rows of seats surrounded them, all facing the giant stage. It was perhaps double the size of that which she performed on in Sussex, perhaps because they had a full ballet here. She noticed how many boxed seats they had as well, and the elaborate rafters and walkways which where towards the magnificent ceiling, from which hung the largest chandelier she had ever seen. 

"It is okay to feel overwhelmed, Mademoiselle, I know I was when I first came here as a young man," Carriere spoke to her. 

***

The rest of the day flew past her. The tour finished and Charles led her to a Parisian town house which belonged to the British crown, used primarily for diplomats. It was a magnificent cream-colored building, which sat just two blocks away from the opera house. It was here that she finally was able to catch up with the day and process all the good which had befallen onto her. 

In a large tub full of herbs and oils, she soaked in warm water and reflected on just how much joy she felt in her soul. It made her feel like she was singing even as she was silent, and it was blissful. 

Her mind wandered off and she began to imagine her life in Paris -- staying in the Prima Donna rooms of the gorgeous opera house, spending her mornings in the city's cafes, reading poetry and buying flower and fruit from street vendors. She imagined it to be simple, and the best part of her fantasy was that it was possible. It could really, truly happen for her. 

Once she had spent enough time soaking and daydreaming, she pulled herself out of the water and wrapped a white towel around herself, readying herself for bed.