AN: Apparently the Phantom bug has bitten me very well, since I can't seem to get it out of my head. This is my newest Phantom story, and unlike the previous two, it's not a one-shot. It's also my first kind take on Raoul, though this is still most definitely an Erik/Christine piece. This is a slightly revised version of the first chapter, based on some criticism I received from reviewers. However, you can find out everything you need from reading the story, so get to it!
Disclaimer: As always, I don't own anything and never will, and that certainly includes the Phantom of the Opera.
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It was with a heavy heart that the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny mechanically followed Madame Giry down the steps into the city's vast catacombs. Hours, it seemed, had been spent in conversation to convince the stern woman that he did not mean her adoptive brother harm in any fashion, that in truth he greatly desired his assistance. Finally, as if she had seen something she needed in his eyes, she consented, but sent her daughter Meg ahead to forewarn Erik of their pending arrival and ordered the Vicomte to don less fine clothing while she did the same, against the waters and dirt of the catacombs. Meg knew the catacombs near as well as their master, so Madame had no worries for her daughter's wellbeing. The Vicomte de Chagny, however, had only passed that way once before and nearly lost his life in one of Erik's ingenious traps in the process. He wondered briefly why Erik had returned to his home after the events there, but assumed he would know the answer if he needed to and that the other man would not have done so if he had not been certain it was safe.
"He will not be pleased, with you or the news you bring," Madame Giry warned coolly. "I had intended to speak of it myself but during my previous visit he barely heard a word I said. I cannot guarantee your safety should you do anything to provoke him."
Raoul nodded tiredly. "The price matters not. Christine's safety is all that does."
She glanced at him appraisingly. "Why have you not already married her, Monsieur? It has been months."
He could only offer a helpless shrug. "Christine said she was not ready yet. After all that occurred here, I thought it best to give her time."
"To forget Erik?" Madame guessed shrewdly. "I can assure you that will never happen. Christine became a daughter to me while she was here, and she would never forget one that was such a large part of her life."
"I don't care," he said in a soft voice. "Really, I don't. If in the end she changes her mind, I only desire her safety and happiness. If he can give that to her… I will not argue."
"Remember you said that," she cautioned. "However, we do not yet know that Erik will even agree to assist you."
The aforementioned man was leaning against a wall near the edge of the small lake as they reached the bottom of the steps, in a simple outfit that reminded Raoul of what he had worn during their last confrontation, except with his typical white mask. Meg could be seen on the opposite side, waiting in the front rooms of Erik's abode. Silently, he assisted Madame Giry into the gondola and offered a mild glare to Raoul, making it clear that though he would return to carry him across as well, he was not welcome.
It seemed only a matter of moments before he had brought the small boat once more to Raoul's feet, but the other man felt no need to offer the same courtesy he had given the ladies. Raoul uncaringly clambered in, choosing not to speak of his reasons for coming until Erik was at least out of arm's reach. When one bore ill tidings to a man known for a vicious temper, one would wait to present the information until safety was more easily assured.
Again, he paid no heed to the younger man, simply leaping casually to the steps that formed his tiny dock after poling across. He immediately proceeded to lash the boat securely as Raoul joined the women. Finally, he stalked forward, eyes fierce.
"To what do I owe this rather dubious pleasure, Monsieur le Vicomte?" he asked in a deceptively cool tone that did nothing to hide the intensity of his glare. His patience had worn down simply keeping silent as long as he had, and he had not forgotten how he loathed the boy before him.
"It's Christine," Raoul answered simply. "She's been kidnapping, and I'd like you to help me find her."
Though Erik stilled for one prolonged moment at the news, it did not last. "I fail to see how this is of any concern to me. Indeed, it seems this should be your job, as her fiancé."
The Vicomte shrugged. "I have neither the time nor the knowledge to even know how to begin. The police are baffled, but I thought you might know something."
He frowned and paced, already caught in the intrigue. "Perhaps… a few possibilities come to mind, but nothing concrete. I have rarely sought word of the world above these past months."
"Do I have your assistance then?"
Erik glanced at him wryly. "Did you ever doubt, when it involved her?"
"Not really. I'm well aware of how much you would do for Christine. Believe me, I am quite clear on your reasons for agreeing. Perhaps we may even form a peace between us? It would please her, I should think."
"Yes, yes, I shall not attempt to kill you again unless you do something to harm her or me," Erik said, waving him off. "I have many things to consider before I begin searching at nightfall. Do you know where she was taken? How long ago?"
"My townhouse," Raoul replied, "as far as I am aware. The police agree it is so but they can find nothing to tell of where to find her. She has been gone for ten days. Do you think she even lives?"
The masked man considered briefly. "I'm quite sure of it. If she had been killed, no doubt the body would already have been discovered. I shall need to examine your home myself, of course."
"Done. And anything else you may require. Erik…" Raoul paused, unsure of if his gesture would be well-received, or even if he was permitted to address him by name. "I'm having your name cleared. You'll be free."
The one brow visible arched noticeably. "A noble act, to be sure. Might I enquire as to the reason?"
"Christine," he replied quietly. "I have no doubt that she will need you once she has been found, and she would not wish you to risk prison by coming to see her. She has been unhappy since leaving the opera. I do not want to give her further reason to grieve. I'm also purchasing the Opera Populaire from Messieurs Firmin and Andre. Regardless of how this ends, it's yours. A gift to begin a proper life."
Erik was visibly startled, but said nothing in argument. Instead, he ordered Meg to escort Raoul to the surface once more, assuring them that he would disarm his traps to allow them safe passage. Madame Giry moved to follow her child, but he took her arm in a gentle hold. "I'd like to speak with you before you go."
She nodded as they watched Meg deftly maneuver the gondola back across the lake and guide the Vicomte up the steps once more. "What is it that you need?"
"First, I'd like you to confirm what the boy said while you were on your way here."
"You were listening?" Rather than allowing him to answer the question, she shook her head and did so herself. "Of course you were; you always do. The Angel sees, the Angel hears. I shall assume you mean in regard to Christine's ultimate decision. Yes, the Vicomte has said that what comes next is for her to decide and her alone. Erik, if she is where I know you already suspect, she will need you desperately."
"I know," he said remotely. "I cannot be sure that I will find her there, yet… I feel that it must be true. I can practically see her in that foul beast's presence. I can sense her fear- no, it is not fear. Terror, it is terror. She is terrified, more than ever before."
Antoinette's hand grasped his shoulder firmly. "You cannot mean to confront the man. Erik, it is madness. He is far and away more dangerous than you ever were."
Erik's burning eyes locked on his sister's. "Do not underestimate my abilities, Madame. Nothing will prevent me from saving Christine. Even if I must give my own life in the attempt, she will not be left to languish in that torment."
Madame Giry sighed and released her grip, knowing the insanity that could grip him if he were to be pushed too far. It had taken far too long for him to resurface after Christine had left. "I do not want to lose either of you, my daughter or my brother. Please, promise you will be careful. Swear it to me, Erik, promise I will not be forced to suffer another loss."
"You know I can guarantee nothing," Erik murmured. "I shall do my utmost to bring both of us back safely, however. If it settles your mind, I shan't confront the man unless given no other option."
She offered him a tired smile. "I suppose that's the best you'll offer, isn't it? Be careful, my dear, and bring poor Christine back to us."
He deftly tugged a hidden cord to bring the boat back to him and allowed his sister to settle herself as he pushed off and delivered her to the other side. "I can escort you up, if you like."
"That's all right, Erik. I am quite capable of returning from here. You should rest before you begin searching."
"I'll try," he promised, trying to soothe her frayed nerves. "Antoinette, you know I'll be fine."
"I suppose," she conceded.
"Will you join me when I go to de Chagny's tonight?"
"Of course, Erik. Shall I bring Meg as well?"
He nodded brusquely. "I would like her to deal with the Vicomte for me. Truce or no, I do not care for the foolish boy, and I fear my temper would interfere with my ability to gain the answers I seek."
"And I?"
"Naturally, you will be assisting with my investigation of the household. Keep an eye out for any hidden entrances that might have been used to take her without discovery. You know what to look for." He frowned before embracing his sister. "She will be well, will she not?" he asked, betraying his own insecurities for the first time, grateful she could not see his face.
"Oh, Erik," Madame Giry sighed, patting his shoulder comfortingly. "If anyone can save her and help her recover, it would be you. She needs you. You have to focus on that."
He drew back reluctantly, allowing his normal unreadable expression fall back over his features. "Till tonight then, Antoinette."
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Madame Giry was quite sure that if it had not been for the limited space of the carriage Raoul had sent for them, Erik would have been pacing madly. In the streets he would have cut a dramatic figure, in his flowing cape and elegant garments, white mask firmly in place. Already the older man had snapped at one of Meg's queries in the manner of one whose control had been frayed far too dangerously.
"Erik, settle down," she ordered in her best instructor's tone.
"I could have walked faster than this," he growled. It probably would have been true if Erik had remained in the catacombs for the majority of the trip. "Time is the enemy."
Meg laid a delicate hand on the man's tense arm. "I'm sure Christine will be fine," she said quietly. "She is a strong woman."
Erik barely restrained another curse, knowing better than either the kind of horror that awaited her if his suspicions proved true.
"Meg, dear," Madame reprimanded mildly. "Do not speak of that which you do not know. If Erik is concerned, there is no doubt reason. Allow him to do as he must."
"I wasn't going to try to stop him, Maman," the girl quickly stated. "I'm sure he knows what he is doing."
"No doubt. Now hush," her mother censured. "I imagine he needs some time to think."
Erik sighed, tapping his fingers restlessly against his knee. "I only hope I'm wrong…"
The carriage slowed to a stop as they approached the front drive of the de Chagny residence in Paris. Raoul stood anxiously in the doorway and quickly beckoned them inside.
Erik ensured the door was bolted securely behind them. "Which rooms?"
"Either the parlor, the library, or her room," the Vicomte answered readily enough. "Perhaps the music room, but she has been avoiding it of late. Shall I escort you?"
"No need," Erik said gruffly, gesturing at Madame Giry. De Chagny's peace offer, and coming to him for help, had gone a long way toward soothing the worst of Erik's anger toward the boy, but he still did not wish to suffer his presence. "She has been here; she knows the layout. Meg?"
She nodded and asked Raoul if she could speak to him in the drawing room. He complied without argument, and Erik glanced to Antoinette.
"I know those rooms," she assured him. "Which would you prefer to check first?"
"The music room," he responded instinctively.
"Are you sure? Monsieur le Vicomte said she had been avoiding it." He slanted a gaze in her direction and she ceased arguing. "Of course."
She opened the double doors that led to the massive conservatory. Erik gave the room a precursory glance and dismissed its supplies as substandard at best. The shelves of musical scores, however, gave him pause. One was hanging out slightly, as though it had been released abruptly and unexpectedly by the viewer. He stalked over immediately and wrenched it loose of the other pages to examine it.
It was one of his works, a piece he had stealthily left in the dormitories for Christine to practice shortly before their first face to face encounter. Glancing at the others surrounding it indicated that all in that section were his and, judging by the dust accumulating on many other surfaces of the otherwise elegant room, no other came here. Christine's huge love of music would never have permitted her to treat a score so haphazardly, and certainly not an original. The piece he had picked up was in fact the only existing copy of that melody, for he had committed it to memory while writing it.
Glancing up from his discovery, he noted Madame Giry examining walls, floor and shelves for any hidden doors meticulously. "Anything?" he asked quietly, yet he still succeeded in startling her.
"Erik, you shouldn't be so silent," she scolded. "I had quite forgotten you were in the room."
"So noted," he said drily. "Have you found anything?"
"Not yet. Have you?"
"Perhaps…" He explained the odd circumstances and was pleased when Antoinette agreed with his assessment.
"You think this is it, then? She was here when she was taken?"
"No doubt about it," he said distractedly as he began his own perusal of the room, searching for one of the triggers that would open a trap door or hidden passage. "Do you suppose the boy has the blueprints for this place? They might help me ascertain where the passage would be."
"I shall go ask," she assured him as she hurried from the room.
When neither the walls, the floor, nor the shelves revealed any secrets, the once Phantom turned his attention to the furnishings. Much to his interest, he discovered that while most pieces were freely moved, even including the grand piano, one small table was secured to the floor. He knelt before it to examine it more closely until he found one small carving which could be depressed. When he did so, nothing occurred, and he frowned. He circled the little table and found similar pieces on each leg, yet each was of a slightly different form.
"Perhaps they must be pressed in a certain order…" There were only four carvings, so even guessing there were only twenty-four possible combinations. He inspected the tabletop, hoping for further clues.
It was certainly an unusual item to find in the home of a French nobleman, Erik mused. The design held a faintly Oriental flavor, but the secret itself was of the Persian style- he distinctly recalled having seen similar objects during his time in that country. He racked his brain, searching for the memory that would show him how to determine the correct method. He had considered momentarily simply attempting each possibility, but a few of the style had been rigged dangerously in case one guessed incorrectly too many times.
The top… yes, the order was inscribed somewhere on the surface. He just needed to locate the symbols that matched the ones he had discovered on the legs. It was a simple enough matter for one that had as much practice as he in seeing even the smallest of details from a great distance. A matter of moments later he found the same four symbols.
He carefully depressed each in the given order and was awarded with a satisfying rumble beneath the carpeting. By inspecting the general area more closely, he noticed barely visible lines that marked a seam of some kind, or a fastening. Slitting it open with a dagger, it revealed a newly opened trap door.
'Trap door lover indeed,' Erik thought as he considered it. The drop of ten feet was too far if one had a conscious prisoner with them- it carried a heavy risk of said prisoner injuring them and escaping. He lowered himself down before dropping fully and recognized a scent that confirmed his suspicions. Though he didn't care for it, at least he knew for sure.
Even as he lifted himself back into the room, Madame Giry, Meg, and Raoul all entered. "You found it!" Raoul exclaimed.
Erik nodded and proceeded to brush the dirt from his fine clothing.
"Well?" he prompted impatiently.
The older man rolled his eyes heavenward. "It is much as I suspected. Christine was in this room when her mystery assailant arrived. He dosed her with chloroform and took her through that tunnel."
"Where does it go?"
"I didn't have time to find out before the circus arrived!" Erik snapped. "Give me some peace, boy. You have no skill in this sort of thing."
"Do you know who took her yet?"
Erik muttered several choice curses under his breath. "I have suspicions, nothing more. Now would you be so kind as to allow me to continue my search?!"
Raoul was promptly pushed from the room by a most helpful Meg, who also locked the door. Erik offered her a rare smile of appreciation and twitched his heavy cloak from his shoulders. A moment later, his jacket, vest, and cravat followed. Clad now only in shirt, trousers and boots, he once more dropped through the opening and glanced up to the waiting ladies.
"Don't let it shut," he instructed. "Wedge something in the door if you must."
Madame nodded. "Be careful."
He nodded and vanished from sight. Meg listened for him, but could hear nothing. "How does he move so silently, Maman?"
"Many years' practice," Antoinette answered tiredly. "Erik has been hunted for so long that he learned to shield his presence from detection in all ways. This time, it will allow him the stealth that may save Christine, for no one will be aware of his approach."
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AN: This story will be in several parts, and I already have the next two or so ready. However, readers have been being terribly stingy with reviews, so for the first time I'm setting a price. I need at least three reviews before I post the next chapter (or rather, I was before I revised it, no limits now), so please please please do so! A special thanks, however, to AngelicMinx, who was the only one to review my others. Believe me, readers, whatever you want to say about my work, say it! Reviews tell me what people think of my stories, and I take whatever you have to give, be it comments, concerns, questions, constructive criticism, ideas, you name it! Till next time!