Author's Note: So I wanted to write a POTO story. I looked over the other Phantom of the Opera fanfictions and found my idea wasn't unique. So I came up with a new idea. I hope you like it. In this story, the Opera House never burned down. This chapter takes place before Christine before she becomes an opera star. So this isn't an OC x Phantom story, just to be clear. It's partially Christine x Erik and OC x OC, that is all. Also, this is written from my Original Character's POV (Point of View, which should technically be PV, but it's not, oh heck. Who am I to argue with alliteration?) when she's older, hence the vocabulary of an old Brit. The large vocabulary is also because this is how I talk. My friend refers to me as a long lost sister of the Monty Python gang. I'm having a lot of fun writing this, it was my birthday a few days ago and I wanted to write a Phantom of the Opera fanfiction.
I don't own Phantom of the Opera, though I wish I did. Keep your tissues at the level of your eyes! You shall cry from how horrible it is, or (hopefully) out of pity for the character. P.S. Sorry It's so long!
The darkness of the early evening in the dark side of Paris scared me, nonetheless I walked along the snowy sidewalk without complaint.
Snowflakes fell gently about me, people tried to sell their wares out at night, including a few women. It was cold, I wore my only dress, barely a slip, an old petticoat of my mother's, and a ragged towel acting as a scarf over my rat's nest of brown hair. The harsh December wind was nothing new, though it tugged at my dress and hit my legs, sending chills up my spine. I continued to walk through the dirty snow, my stomach rumbling, reminding me of its presence. I rubbed it and sighed. A familiar cat followed me along. Shadow was my best friend, he kept me company and in turn, I fed him what I could spare. I met him when I was sitting outside when I was four, he was very small, barely a kitten. I fed him some of my meat and he's stayed close to me ever since.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a glimmer in the snow. I ran towards it, creating little puffs of breath as I rushed.
I dusted it off and smiled. A crate of six milk bottles sat below me. I thanked The Lord silently and attempted to lift the large crate. I could barely pull it with my numb fingers. I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and tied one corner to my hand and the other side to the crate. I double knotted the crate and dragged it towards home. I know stealing is wrong, but starvation is wrong too. Shadow followed me, rubbing his warm body against my frozen legs.
I dragged it further and further until I reached the house. I looked through the window, Father was dealing with customers, I wasn't allowed inside when Father was dealing with customers unless I wanted him to box my ears. I slipped into the alley behind it and cleared off my hatbox. I used the hatbox as a way to store special things and sometimes as a seat. It held all my important things, a silver locket, a red scarf, and a small music box. It was all that remained of my mother. When I was three years old, Mama had come home one day and told me she lost her job because she was sick. Father wasn't happy with her. He hit her and hit her until her nose bled and she fell to the floor. She never got up. Now I was five, and I stayed out of Father's way for the most part.
After Mama died, we moved to Paris. My father brought in women constantly with his friends. They always kissed him and his friends, except one, that one man was Monsieur Mavis, he was tall and muscular, as well as very rich. I didn't know why he loved to visit Father so often, he always stared at me when he came over. My father had the women over today, and usually I wasn't allowed to go in when he had guests over. I sat on top of my hatbox and pulled a carton out of its crate. I inhaled the smell, sweet and delicious. The cream still floated at the top. I placed my finger into the smooth fat and scooped some out for Shadow, who licked it from my hand, meowing happily.
"Oh you haven't eaten much today either, huh?" I said, scooping what was left of the cream into my hand.
All I received from Shadow was a meow, which in my imagination he would reply ever so sweetly in an English accent, "Thank you very much, Miss Fae." but it was all in my head. I smiled at the my companion. I sipped some of the cold milk. It tasted delicious, and I was so hungry, that between Shadow and I, the bottle was half gone by the time we were done. My stomach still rumbled, but it felt fuller after the milk. I knew other street people might steal the jugs, so I hid them under my hatbox, which I covered in a piece of old carpet and proceeded to cover that with snow.
"Claudette! Get in here!" My father called me from the house. I knew not to argue, and I quickly ran to the door, Shadow stayed behind, napping on top of the carpet outdoors.
I saw Monsieur Mavis paying Father some money, which he grabbed from his hand and grinned at me.
"Are you sure she's experienced enough?" Mavis said.
"She's the best I can do sir." Father said
I walked up and curtsied like my mother taught me. The man grinned. My father's grin grew wider. Monsieur Mavis smiled at me.
"How did you come across her?" Monsieur Mavis asked.
"I bought her mother's indenture, I didn't realize she was pregnant until after I purchased her. Little did I know that your little fetish would do me good later."
"Please prepare her for me. I'll pay you double." Monsieur Mavis said.
"Yes sir." Father said. He took my hand and led me upstairs. I was both curious and frightened. Father never let me go upstairs, he said I wasn't allowed upstairs unless he let me. He took me into a large dressing room. It had stalls with velvet curtains and brown carpet on the floor. A fire was aflame in the fireplace, I welcomed the heat. He pulled off my clothes and pressed a washcloth against my body. I scrubbed myself while he brushed my hair. He placed them in matching pigtails with ribbon. A dress was pulled on over my small frame. It was pink and frilly and very uncomfortable. Finally, a pair of pink shoes. I frowned but dared not to say anything. Father led me upstairs to room where he took a suitcase and filled it with more clothes. I was taken downstairs and the suitcase was taken outside by Father, leaving me and Monsieur Mavis alone in the room. His eyes scanned me, I felt exposed. He smiled and licked his lips, opening his mouth to show pointed teeth. I was scared out of my mind now. How could Father do this to me? I pondered. I was led to a carriage where I sat until Monsieur Mavis entered the carriage, carrying my small suitcase.
We traveled in the carriage, he softly humming, I wondering my fate. He stared at me like a jungle cat would eye it's prey.
Then he touched me. The Monsieur touched me. I hated it. He seemed to enjoy it. I almost screamed. He sighed in frustration and patted my hand.
"There'll be time for that later. My dear Claudette." Monsieur said. I was horribly scared of what he meant by that statement. I felt absolutely ridiculous.
Soon we arrived in front of a large house, Monsieur said he had to take care of a few things, and he would be back in a minute.
I sat and waited for a few minutes before taking advantage of the darkness and open carriage. I attempted to get out of the carriage, but this door was narrower, so I was stuck, I pulled and tugged and wiggled until finally part of the skirt ripped. Monsieur Mavis spotted me as I ran. He chased after me, I crawled over the fence . He continued to chase after me. I noticed a large crowd entering an opera house. I knocked over a garbage can to buy me time and ran into the crowd. The crowd was so massive I was soon caught inside, struggling to get out. I finally reached an odd room. I opened the door and looked behind me. I felt a cold air around me and I ran into a woman. She was tall and dressed in black, she wore a frown upon her face and stared at me. I cried out.
"You should not be here child." She said. I froze. I could feel my eyes fill with tears, I couldn't stop them from flowing.
A group of ballerinas ran in, a few surrounding me. Two kinder looking girls saw the tears on my tears and came in between myself and the scary woman.
"Madame Giry... Um, could we take this child off your hands?" The one with brown hair said. Madame Giry, as she was apparently called, without taking her eyes off me, nodded. I was led away by the two ballerinas. They led me to a bed. One sat me down and smiled.
"Are you alright?" The blonde one said. I nodded, she handed me a handkerchief, I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. They smiled at each other, giggling.
"Are you a princess?" I asked the brown-haired one. She laughed and shook her head.
"No, I'm a dancer." She replied, her voice soft and sweet, like honey.
"Good. Now can you tell us what's wrong?" The brown-haired one said. I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat.
"My name is Faun. My parents are dead, I got lost while trying to find my kitten Shadow." I half lied. They nodded, they handed me a small hunk of bread and cheese.
"I ran away from home because the man there hurt me, and I didn't want him to hurt Shadow." This was true, mostly.
The girls cooed over me for a while before finally they had to go back onstage, Madame Giry was called away, so I was alone. I decided to explore for a bit.
I went into the ballerina's dressing room. A man sat there, he had lots of dirty smudges on his face, and he was twisting a screwdriver into an odd piece of metal. He looked up and noticed me, he smiled.
"Hello there little lass. Why are you back here?" He asked in the voice adults use with children.
"I was brought here by Madame Giry. I am Faun." I curtsied.
He chuckled before letting out a long cough.
"I'm Buquet, Joseph Buquet." He shook my hand.
"I'm leaving now, but before I go, here's a warning. Beware of the Opera Ghost." He said, his eyes growing wide.
"The Opera has a ghost?" I said, more curious than afraid.
"Yes, and it's said he haunts this very room!" He exclaimed, I jumped back, he laughed as he walked out.
This was getting more and more curious.
I wasn't going to let Monsieur Buquet scare me from exploring. I walked to a mirror on the wall, and looked at my reflection. I still wore the stupid pink outfit. I angrily tugged off the ribbons, letting my hair fall to the ground. I ripped the beads off the dress, letting them fall to the floor. Randomly, from the mirror, I heard a muffled organ play. I slipped on a stocking on the floor and fell against the large mirror. I thought it would break, but instead, it opened to show a tunnel. I walked in, the mirror closed behind me, it was like glass, I could see through to the other side. It had odd carvings on the wall, they looked like musical notes. I decided to continue to explore. There was a lot of walking involved, so I won't detail the trip, but everything was amazing and surreal.
I had followed the music, and it led to a large cavern, filled with water. I knew how to swim, so I leaped in, I was almost to the pool when a hand pulled me down and let me go. I kicked as hard as I could to escape, and I was at the surface for a minute, I screamed as loud as I could before I went under again. An odd creature was attacking my face, tearing away at it. I felt myself being lifted out before everything went dark.
Erik's POV
I was playing my music, trying to rid myself of the lack of harmony caused by that blasted new singer La Carlotta. I sighed at the thought of yet another singer needing training. I shook my head and continued to compose my opera.
I suddenly heard splashing. A loud scream rang through the air, and I saw a small head go under the water. The siren must have caught an intruder swimming.
I preferred to handle these idiots myself, so I ran to my gondola and rowed to where the splashing had come from. Sure enough, the siren was clawing at the face of an intruder under the water. I pulled out my whip and hit the air twice, warning the beast. It looked up at my face and hissed, I pulled the body out. I almost dropped it in surprise, it was a girl, a small girl. She wasn't breathing, I pounded her back and she coughed up some water, her face was bleeding, I pulled out a cloth and held it to her face, using the other to row to my lair. She had black hair that came down to her shoulders in curls. If she was blonde, she would look like Mona. I think that's what made me rescue her.
She was asleep, so cleaning her wounds was relatively easy, I placed bandages over the cuts, I changed her into an old nightshirt of mine, I noticed she had cuts and bruises all over her small body. My heart broke for this poor soul. I placed her gently on the bed, and covered her with a few blankets. She shivered in her sleep, then sighed with content.
I went back to my organ, somewhat inspired by this occurence.
Faun's POV
It is a funny thing to not wake up in one's own bed, as one expects all the comforts from one's original bed to be there when you wake up.
For instance, you might reach for something and find it's not there and for a few seconds, you panic, and then there's that sweet moment when you realize where you are and a sense of relief washes over you, and everything is just fine and dandy from then on. Well, I wasn't so lucky.
The first thing I noticed was my face was covered in large bandages on one side, the other side was bruised a bit, but it didn't hurt as much as the other side. This room was interesting, there were scarves hanging from the ceiling, like a Persian room I saw in a picture book once. A thick, soft, elaborately embroidered carpet lay under the bed. The wallpaper was a red background with these swirled gold lines,looking like fairy trails. I had found myself out of that horror and in a large white shirt. I went to the bed and relaxed under the thick quilts. I rested for a bit, before the door opened.
A man in a mask walked in with a tray.
"I'm happy to see you're awake." The man said, he sat down on the bed beside me.
"What were you doing down there?" He asked.
I gripped the quilt. "I was exploring." I answered.
"How did you find my home?" He asked another question.
"I tripped on a stocking and fell into the mirror, which pushed it aside. What's your name?" I asked. He noticeably flinched.
"I'm Phantom, or Erik, you may call whatever you wish, what's your name?" Phantom said.
"My name is Claudette Faun Antoinette Genevieve Fae. I prefer to be called Faun." I answered him. He smiled, he had a brilliant smile it was genuine and contagious.
"Okay, Faun. You may stay here as long as you wish, on one condition." Phantom raised his eyebrows playfully.
"Yes?" I said, jumping up and down. He pulled a mask out of the tray and handed it to me, I held the white half mask in my hands.
"You must allow me to train you in the art of music." Phantom said with an air of mystery in his voice. I nodded and slipped the mask over my head, it slid down to my neck and I giggled.
And thus, I was taken as an apprentice under the Phantom of the Opera, over the years, he taught me the magic of music, and he became a father for me, teaching me how to read and write properly, and he taught me how to sing. He let me call him Father, when I was seven. I didn't know why he took me in, he never hurt me, he never raised his hand against me. He was Father, and I was his loving daughter. I learned how to defend myself with a sword and daggers and rope. I wore my mask and redid some of his old clothes so I could wear things other than costumes. Father had fallen in love with an opera star, Christine Daaé, she truly had the voice of an angel.
One day after Christine left a note of Father's was left for me.
It read something like this:
My Dear Little Faun,
Today I have left, I am in no danger, don't worry. I've gone to find my Angel of Music.
True Love is a tricky thing, as hard as running an opera, but I know you can do it.
You must understand I must win this woman's heart. She is my angel.
You will understand about such things when you are older.
Take care of my theater, I know you shall do me proud.
Keep André and Firmin in line, they are troublesome men, Carlotta may return, do not be daunted.
Place your notes in Box No. 5, and take care that you are not seen. To be seen with the mask is deadly,
and it would be horrible for you to be caught. Be aware of your surroundings. I shall be back in a few months.
Sincerely,
O.G.
I was disheartened by this note, but I knew how to care for the theater. Unfortunately, the months spent waiting for Father's return slowly turned into years, and I placed notes to him in a secret place in Box No. 5, and they disappeared, so I knew he must have come around at some point. I was now the Phantom of the Opera, and I would protect my adoptive father's legacy if it killed me.