The train to Paris had been exactly what Danielle had expected – boring, long, and quiet. Reynard hadn't said a single word to her since they had left the house. Danielle was left to her own dark thoughts and quiet misgivings, every once in a while stealing glances at her brooding brother. Reynard hadn't seemed to lose any of his ire, but at least it hadn't grown. His shaggy blackbrown hair fell into his eyes, forever wanting a trimming, or at least a hairtie. He wasn't slight of frame by any means, but if anyone had called him stocky they would have regretted it. Danielle knew that her father's decision to make him a smithy's apprentice was based mostly on his physical form. His arms were strong, and corded muscle moved under his tanned skin. Sadly, Danielle recalled the last time they had played together. They had been friends, once. But those days were long gone.

Danielle was jerked from her reverie by the slow stopping of the train. Steam curled around the windows, and through its grey haze she saw her future – Paris, the city of lights. The city was not unfamiliar to her; she had been there a few times in the company of her mama and papa. But today, she would be setting foot in it alone. Swallowing the cold lump of fear that threatened to choke her, she grabbed for the handle of one of her two suitcases. Before she could grasp the other one, however, Reynard's hand closed around the handle.

"Ill accompany you to the opera house, Danielle." Sadness, not anger, tinged his chocolate eyes now. He smiled an uncharacteristic smile at his younger sister, as if trying to bolster her courage. "I've been there before, well, passed by it on the outside at least. It's very beautiful… I think you'll like it."

Danielle was momentarily taken aback by her brother's sudden mood swing. Reynard hadn't spoken this kindly to her in years, why start now? It delighted her irrationally. She grinned up at her older brother, releasing what little hold she had on the other handle. He shouldered it easily, and took his own pack in his other hand, made his way out of the train. Danielle followed him, carrying her valise as best as she was able to.

Looking back on her first moments in Paris, she would say it was the sunlight that got her first. The hustle and bustle of the city was bathed in a sort of hypnotizing, golden glow that seemed to take even the imperfections around her and make them beautiful. Even during the day, Paris truly was the "city of light". An enchanted grin spilt her face, and she trotted obediently after her brother, drinking in all the sights and smells of the grand city. Passing vendors offered her apples and trinkets and other goods. Street performers danced on corners, horses neighed in the streets as they pulled hansom cabs filled with well-dressed socialites. Danielle was so absorbed in the sights of the city; she forgot to look ahead of her and plowed straight into Reynard. Startled, her brother turned around, and Danielle was dismayed to see the quick anger snap in his eyes again. But almost as soon as it had appeared, Reynard forced it out. "Mesmerizing, isn't it Danielle? Be careful though, keep close to me. I don't want to lose you somewhere in this crowd."

Danielle nodded mutely, and with her free hand grabbed a handful of Reynard's coat. The pair plowed through the sea of people together, no one paying much mind to a 15 year old boy and his young charge. Danielle continued to drink in the sights the city had to offer, all the while being mindful to keep a strong grip on her brother's coat. Her mind completely elsewhere, she didn't notice they were climbing the stairs to a large building until she was plunged into a sudden darkness. The strange thing was, it wasn't truly dark – it was just the contrast from the brightness outside that made it appear so. Danielle gasped as her eyes adjusted to the comparative darkness of the building. There were statues everywhere -- golden men and women and gods, acting out scenes of pathos and drama, falling over one another and glowing strangely in the dim light.

Reynard set her suitcase down, and motioned for one of the porters nearby to come and help the girl with her baggage. He bent down a slight bit, eyelevel with his little sister. "Danielle, I must leave you here. But do not fret, I will be nearby. If you need to find me, the smithy I've been apprenticed to is three blocks away from the opera house. That's not very far at all." He smiled, shakily but somewhat reassuringly. Danielle was still trying to figure out what sparked this sudden change of heart in her brother. "Just tell this porter your name, they are expecting you."

He stood then, looking more like an old man then a young boy. "Goodbye, Danielle." He fussed her hair with one large hand, and then turned towards the huge doors they had come through. Danielle paused for the briefest moment, and then flew towards her brother as fast as her legs would carry her. Leaping into his arms, she buried her head in the crook of his neck. Not a word was spoken between them, but none need have been. Danielle clung to her brother's neck; breathing in the reassuring scent of soap and cologne. She remembered with a sad smile the day she had stolen his cologne, and wasted half a bottle spraying her dolls. He hadn't been exactly happy with her that day, but remembering it, inexplicably, made her pleased. She loved her brother dearly, even if he didn't always seem to return it. Reluctantly, Danielle released her brother and turned back towards the waiting porter.

Reynard watched his little sister speak with the porter, and then turn to follow after his straight-backed form as he disappeared into the innards of the opera house. He was forever grateful she never turned around, for she would have seen the very unmanly tears that glistened on his face.

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After the porter had left her, Danielle took a look around her new surroundings. The girl's dormitories were anything but gorgeous, but they were at least warm and reasonably free of drafts. There were six beds, six night-stands, and Danielle had been assigned a bed which occupied a corner of the room. There were two windows in the room, with red draperies hanging from their sides. The window dressings looked very old, and had faded to a sun-stained pink instead of their once glorious red. There was a door to what looked like a lavatory on the right hand side of the room, which meant Danielle wouldn't have to go traipsing halfway around the opera house to have a bath. Oil lamps stood on the nightstands, some lit, some not. Even so, the room was lit well enough to read in. Even though it was sparse, it was pleasant, and Danielle was sure it would liven up once others were in here with her. No one else was in this room at present, and she suspected practice of some kind was going on. Nonplussed, she began to settle her things into the nook the porter told her would be hers. Her trunk full of clothes she simply put at the foot of the bed – no closet made that an easy choice. Her smaller bag held various things she had not wished to be boxed up – a derrogotype portrait of her family, a treasured doll, and a few books she had taken from her papa's library that were connected with his memory in her mind. Also in the bag was her mother's hairbrush and other assorted toiletries. Danielle unpacked the picture, the brush, and the doll and left the rest in the bag, which she placed under the bed beside the trunk. She had not brought a lot of things with her, so unpacking was mindlessly easy task. Danielle sat on the side of the bed, and kicked her legs back and forth. She was supposed to find a Madame Giry once she arrived, but she had no idea how to navigate the winding, twisting corridors of the opera house. She assumed the other girls would be returning soon, and she could ask them to lead her to Madame Giry.

But for now, she was exhausted from a long and emotional day. Slipping off her shoes, Danielle lay on top of the plain white coverlet and closed her eyes. She didn't want to fall asleep, but just to rest for a while. The bed was cool and inviting, and the pillow behind her head felt marvelous. Danielle felt herself almost being lulled to sleep, and she didn't bother to fight it. She was tired… so, so tired…

Suddenly, Danielle's eyes flew open. Something had touched her hand, she was sure of it. She swung her stocking-covered feet over the side of the bed, eyes wide with fright and chest pounding. It wasn't her imagination, it couldn't be. The touch was cool, and felt like human skin.

"Who's there?"

The answer of the silence was deafening.

"Come on, show yourself! You needn't fear me; it is I who is afraid of you!" her voice shook in fear, trembling around the rafters and echoing in her ears. Undaunted by the lack of response, Danielle walked a few steps away from the bed.

"Please come out? I'm not going to harm you, and I'm sure you don't want to harm me either."

The only sound to be heard was her own ragged breathing. "… please? I'm so lonely…"

Danielle walked back to her bed, and sat down on the edge. She bit her lip and determined not to cry. She was lonely, that was the cold, hard truth. She sat in silence for a few minutes, straining to hear the sounds of footsteps. When nothing met her ears, she sank back against the pillow, defeated for the moment. Almost as she closed her eyes, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep; the faraway song of a pipe-organ as her lullaby.

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Author's note: Ooooh creepy:O wonder who that could be... once again, I do not own POTO or any of the cannon charecters. Please review if you can spare the time:D