The Guardian of Halloween [A Disney Fanfic]

𝔏𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔗𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔢 [𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 1]

☆.｡.:* 🕷️ *:.｡.☆

The Evil Stepfather [Lord Tremaine] x fem! reader

☆.｡.:* 🕷️ *:.｡.☆

Y/N had never attended a theatre performance. She had never even contemplated attending one, but after being invited by one of the actresses herself after a spontaneous meeting in a coffee house a few streets away, Y/N found herself with a ticket into the Théâtre du Palais-Royal. A recently completed construction, having only been finished a few months before, and now Y/N was to attend one of the first performances. And, from what she had read in the papers, it was a highly praised performance.

So, at quarter to eight, Y/N found herself waiting outside her temporary lodgings in Paris, her cloak around her shoulders, her hood resting gently atop her curls as she waited for her scheduled carriage. It was a stormy night. It was a night that others might have used as an excuse to stay indoors rather than step out into the cold autumn night in search of entertainment. But Y/N had never been one to let the weather or temperature keep her from a scheduled appointment. After all, she had already purchased her ticket, and the actress had asked to meet with her after the performance so Y/N could report on how much she enjoyed the show, or give the actress any tips or critique.

As Y/N thought of what the performance might entail, a carriage came trundling up the way, its wheels clacking on the cobblestone streets, accompanied by the sound of hooves. She quickly checked her pocket watch and smiled when she confirmed that she still had plenty of time to make it to the theatre before the performance started.

The gentleman driving the carriage pulled up in front of her inn and hopped down, opening the door and assisting her as she stepped into the carriage, carefully manoeuvring her dress into the deep scarlet interior. Then, he shut the door behind her and hopped up onto the driver's seat, cracking his whip above the horse's head to urge them into a steady trot.

Inside the carriage, Y/N lowered her hood and scooted a little closer to the window. She brushed the curtains aside, smiling as she watched the rain fall around Paris. There was something magical about the rain as if it was washing away every horrible thing with each drop that fell. Had the windows been able to open, Y/N might have extended her hand in hopes of catching one or two of the raindrops, but sadly, the windows were nothing more than simple panes of glass, unable to be manipulated up or down. So Y/N settled into the quiet comfort of her seat, her eyes fluttering shut as she absorbed the warmth of the carriage.

All too soon, Y/N arrived at the Théâtre du Palais-Royal. Once there, the carriage driver pulled up to the front of the building and a footman hopped down to help Y/N down the steps of the carriage. The rain had faded during her ride to the theatre and with only a couple steps left, she didn't see the point in putting it up again.

Y/N made her way up the steps with the rest of the patrons, bowing her head in greeting to those who glanced her way. As she made her way through the doors to the theatre, she accidentally bumped into a man who had been standing near one of the pillars, speaking in hushed tones with his companions.

"Je suis désolés, monsieur," Y/N said, bowing her head to the man. She did not stop for long and continued into the theatre, taking a programme from one of the staff when they offered it to her. It was elegant, transcribed on beautiful cream paper with swooping letters and red and gold ink. Y/N decided to keep it as a souvenir after the performance had finished. She might even ask her new friend to sign it for her as a keepsake of this wonderful night.

One of the staff quickly helped Y/N to her seat in one of the higher boxes in the theatre and offered to take her cloak for her. Y/N accepted the man's offer and relaxed into her seat, flipping open the programme as she waited for the performance to start.