The phantom's daughter

Chapter three

"Come now Victoria, it's your bedtime," He told his daughter. Regardless of how tired she was, she would never admit it. She whinnied and stomped her bare feet against the rocky floor, which only hurt a little bit.

"Papa, I'm not tired," She dramatically slumped against his leg.

He smiled affectionately at his daughter, smoothing her hair, and moving it away from her face. She had come a long way from the shy, trembling leaf she was when they had first met. He wouldn't have believed it were the same person if he had not seen her development himself. No longer did she flinch when he reached out or gestured near her. Loud noises, however, was still an issue, but they rarely happened. Most commonly the sound would come from him accidentally knocking over a music stand and it hitting the ground.

Normally to any general person, this might be an issue, but with Victoria's sound sensitivity and the echo of the cavern that surrounded them, mediocre bangs sounded like cannon fire. They would even startle him sometimes if he were caught off guard. That night was one of those nights. Suddenly there was a huge bang. It came from one of the tunnels.

"What was that?" Victoria asked hiding behind him.

"I don't know, I'll go check you stay here," He pried her fingers off of his shirt sleeve. "Go to bed and wait for me, I'll be in to tuck you in," He walked down the passageway with a lantern.

No one had been down here since the incident at the Opera House when the entire building went up in flames. That and Christine's last visit before Victoria was born. There was no one else who knew how to navigate through tunnels. The possibility that someone could have gotten down to the cavern, terrified him. He had no true way to defend himself or Victoria.

When he got to where the sound came from he realized what it was. Near the end of one of the many paths that wrapped around the catacombs, was a single slightly malnourished horse. It must have been trapped down here all these years, living off of the mice and rats that have occasionally been seen scurrying about in the tunnels. The sound of a tiny gasp almost made him drop his lantern.

"Can we keep it?!" Victoria squealed. Erik flinched; he didn't know she followed him. "Can I ride it? Please can I, Papa?" She put her hands into a praying position.

"Have I really gone soft?" He asked himself, though he already knew the answer, yes.

"Of course, you can, my Angel," He picked her up and put her on the horse's back, and walked alongside her.

She giggled with absolute joy. The horse, however, was not having any of this, he kept neighing and thrashing its head. Victoria tried to calm it down, but nothing worked, worried she looked to her father for reassurance. Yet, there wasn't much he could do to help. Once they got back to their home and Erik marched Victoria to the dresser to help her to get changed for bed. With the constant sound of the horse, Victoria would continuously turn her attention to the horse. Once she was in her sleeping clothes, she rushed back out to where they had left the horse.

They found it eating Erik's music sheets.

"Hey! That's not for you!" He ran over and snatched the sheets out of its mouth.

"Maybe he's just hungry, Papa," Victoria climbed down to where he was and gave the horse an apple, which it ate. She smiled and petted the horse's snout, poking her for more apples. She giggles pushing it away lightly. "We're going to need more apples," She continued to giggle.

"Well, it will have to wait till morning," He looked down at her and smiled. "What has brown curly hair, a pink nightgown, and is up way past her bedtime?" He asked kneeling next to her.

"Um... Madame Giry?" She asked with a smile, knowing it wasn't the answer he was looking for and hopped it would buy her some time. He scooped her up by her stomach, causing a small yelp to escape her mouth. "Hey! That's not fair, put me down!" She giggled.

"As you wish!" He jokingly growled. He dropped her on her bed. She squeaked and quickly crawled under her blanket, hiding. "Now where did my daughter go?" He chuckled, tapping his chin in thought. He heard a soft giggle from under the blanket. He softly laid on top of her, trying not to hurt her.

"I'll just lay here till she comes back." He shifted his shoulder blades; she was trying so hard not to laugh. "Oh dear, this is a lumpy mattress. I may have to replace it," He chuckled when he heard her gasp. He pulled back the blanket, which made Victoria squeak. He laughed and began to tickle his daughter.

"Papa, stop! I can't breathe!" She laughed through gasps. Through all the tickling and laughing, his mask fell from its place, making Victoria go silent instantly. He automatically covered his face.

"Don't look." He warned, inching away from his daughter. She inched closer and sat in his lap, making sure he was looking at her.

"Why, Papa?" She asked moving his hand. He hesitantly let her, he looked up at her. "I don't see anything wrong," She said plainly. He started to tear, but she wiped it away. "We match, it's what makes us special," She kissed his cheek and smiled. He stroked his daughter's scarred face, feeling a small amount of guilt for being the reason she looked the way she did, even though it was no fault of his own besides genetics.

"You're right, my angel," He smiled and sighed deeply. "Now it's time for you to go to sleep," He tucked her in and kissed her head.

"Good night, Papa," She yawned.

"Good night, my angel,"