Ghosts of the Past
Author's Note: So I had the thought that the youngest Obarskyr would be an actress and playwright. And of course I wanted her to have something really awesome to write so I gave her Les Miserables. That would bring up more memories for Andreas to deal with because I wanted to give him more of a part in the story. I also had the idea about Phantom of the Opera and an actual ghost becoming a problem at the theatre in Suzail.
Prelude
"Bravi, bravi, bravissimi…" Angelus crooned to Christine as she bowed. "You are magnificent." He told her as she left the stage. "A true lady of the theatre."
Christine's eyes were bright as she looked at him. "Thank you Angelus, but my performance was what it was, because I am leaving the theatre. I was saying goodbye."
Angelus could have shouted with the sudden rage that swept over him. "It's that nobleman isn't it?" He demanded his beautiful voice harsh with anger. "You're leaving me for him! After all I've done for you! Together we make magic, our music is perfection. How can you leave that for a life of mindless drudgery as a wife and mother to countless brats!"
"Angelus, I love him." Christine whispered softly, trying not to shrink from his contorted face.
"What of your love for me, and mine for you? What of the theatre?" He changed tactics abruptly, his expressive bards voice entreating her.
"You know I have never loved you as a husband." Christine gently reproved him. "And your love for me is that of a teacher for a fine student, not for a wife. The theatre is wonderful but it can't take the place of my love for Raoul."
"You have no idea what love is!" He shouted. Even as he lost his temper again he realized it was no use. She was resolute. There was no way she would ever stay with him, with the theatre, not while Raoul and her love for the nobleman, lived.
The theatre was dark but for a few faint lights at the foot of the stage. A small group of musicians played a medley of haunting evocative music.
The royal family awaited the rising of the curtain eagerly along with the rest of the audience. It was noted by those who noticed such things, that several members of the rather extended family were missing and that unfamiliar faces sat with the Obarskyrs.
Briar's entire family had joined them for the occasion though her mother and uncles would be returning to Serendal in a day. Her father would remain however. And Dragon's mother, Kalaya, sat beside Elaith having a quiet discussion while Anakin listened, interjecting an animated comment or two. Now and then Elaith's eyes drifted towards the stage and he smiled for no reason. His wife was behind the curtains, having succumbed to her granddaughter's plea for another alto in the chorus.
In the darkness Sebastian sat patiently, a smile touching his lips. Lorelei was beside him and Andreas next to her. His older sister squeezed his hand nervously and he bent to whisper in her ear. "They'll be fine."
Lorelei shot him an anxious look and he grinned. The memory of his baby sister's request flicked in his mind and he immersed himself in the memory.
"Please?" Asrai pleaded. "We're sunk otherwise."
Briar looked helplessly at Sebastian and then at Asrai. "Asrai, I'm not an actress, I'm just a bard."
Asrai shook her head stubbornly. "You're not just anything. Tredorian says what I've written is more like an opera than a proper play. He thinks you can do it too."
Briar blinked. "Tredorian's seen me perform?"
Asrai gave her a 'duh' look. "Yes." She said a bit impatiently. "At The Rose." She tugged at Briar's hands. "Please, I only need one more part filled after yours. This will keep us all from going insane until we get you married off."
Sebastian scowled at that. "If I'd anticipated this delay I would have borne her off to elope." He muttered.
His betrothed kissed his cheek affectionately, as impatient with the seemingly endless wait as he. She looked at the younger girl again. "I don't want to say yes until I'm sure I won't disgrace your writing." She pointed out.
Asrai eagerly pulled a sheaf of parchment from her bag. "This would be your part. Its not very large, you have mostly the beginning of the first act and then a bit at the very end. And if you'd fill in voices for the company it would be a great help. Tredorian and the Admirals Men are great but we really need more women in the chorus."
Briar blinked as she was handed the writing and looked down at it. Almost immediately she became absorbed in the story and the depth of the character. "Sweet Maiden." She breathed the words almost reverently. "Asrai, this music…" She looked up at the girl.
"I know it's not up to your usual standards…" Asrai began and was immediately cut off by the bards shake of her head.
"Asrai, it's extraordinary!" She said excitedly. "Why didn't you ever tell anyone you could do this?"
"I wasn't really sure I could." Asrai admitted. "I love to act so much…it was easier to do, so I just kept writing this and messing with it until I couldn't do anymore. And then I showed it to Tredorian."
"And what did he say?" Sebastian asked curiously.
"He wanted to know why I was wasting my time in his plays when I could be producing my own." Asrai admitted. "I told him because his plays inspire me, and I can't write constantly, I need to do other things. Acting is my love but writing…I need to do it now and then." She frowned. "There's a lot of work in this play." She said thoughtfully. "I hope it doesn't upset anyone."
Briar had glanced back down at the character. "Asrai…if you think I can do this, I would love to be in your opera."
Sebastian was pulled back to the present by Lorelei's tug on his arm. "They have a delay." She whispered. "You don't think there's a problem with Dragon?"
Sebastian looked at her curiously. "Once Dragon say's he'll do something he does it." The younger prince pointed out. "Look at his determination to marry you."
Lorelei smiled dreamily. "I can't imagine how Asrai talked him into this." She said with a shake of her head.
Sebastian grinned. "She hooked Briar first and then gave Dragon such a guilt trip about her play being ruined if she didn't have anyone for that part. And how Briar was looking forward to it."
Lorelei rolled her eyes. "He told me that Asrai informed him that she was aware he had a wonderful voice, even if she hadn't heard him sing, because Grandmother's daughter Deirdriu had told her so."
Sebastian chuckled. "I had wondered how she learned. Dragon will go after the Dark Lady with her own sword if he thinks he's made a fool of himself."
"He won't." Lorelei said a bit smugly. "You are right. Once he said he will do something my Nwyfan does it. And he does it well."
"Have either of you two, due to your closeness to those involved, gotten to hear any of this masterpiece?" Andreas leant across his sister to include Sebastian in his question.
"I overheard Briar and Asrai practicing the part they sing together." Lorelei smiled. "It was so beautiful…and so sad."
Their mother looked at them. "How old are you three anyway?" She inquired testily. "Everyone else in the theatre is silent but you are talking." Her low hiss jerked them back to their surroundings and they noticed that the lights on the stage had dimmed completely and the music had swelled in a signal that the play was about to begin.
The audience was stunned to say the least. After the first scene of prisoners toiling in hopeless labor they'd seemed to begin breathing again. The hopes and fears of those enchained were universal of anyone kept from their home or imprisoned. A tall forbidding figure with a stern gaze and scarred face read out a number and those in the Royal box recognized Dragon's rasping voice, emerging as a raw growling bass. His release of the prisoner and subsequent condemnation of the man's actions and chances for redemption were pitiless and cold.
Lorelei clutched at her brothers' hands and Sebastian gently untangled his from her fingers and patted her hand softly.
The scenes seemed to fly by, a man's breaking of parole, his success in becoming a man of power and influence with many people working for him. And in one of his businesses there was a fight, involving a letter and girl with black hair and delicate features.
Sebastian leaned forward as he saw Briar. Fantine, the character she played was dismissed from her job, thrown out into the street and left alone. And the song she sang, of men once being kind, and love being blind, and how dreams turned to shame, brought tears to the eyes of many. She told in a heartbreaking voice, of how she had loved someone, and thought he loved her, and how he had gotten her with child and left her, and how she dreamed he would come and live with her, but that some dreams could not be. And in a broken voice she proclaimed that life kills dreams.
Behind him, Sebastian heard Vidan whisper softly to Merrila. "Allow me to beg your forgiveness my friend, if the pain you suffered was anything like that of which our child just sang."
"Shh…" Merrila whispered back. "There is nothing to forgive."
Sebastian smiled to himself and watched as the play continued.
On the stage two men, the implacable Javert, determined to enforce the law without consideration for compassion or mercy, and Valjean, equally determined to remain free to keep his promise to the now dead Fantine. The beautiful tenor of the actor playing Valjean was a wonderful contrast to the growling bass of Dragon in the part of Javert.
In the darkness something else stirred and watched as the play progressed. He hadn't felt such passion and life to music in years. Such wonderful voices, emotions throbbing through the words, and the music stirred even his dark soul. He watched, the frail figure onstage, as it lay, in apparent agony dying, and the two men fighting before the body. This one, was a delight to see, supple and strong, but he could tell, she was not the one. She loved music and performing but this was new to her, and her heart was already consumed with love for another.
'Ahhh…' the watcher made a tiny sound of delight as he saw another. She also had dark hair and green eyes, and her voice too was a source of joy, but she too was consumed with other passions. Patiently he waited and then he saw Her.
She came onstage, her hair spilling out from under a cap in messy tendrils, smudges on her cheeks and taunted and teased the man who played a lovestruck Marius. Her voice was the sweetest contralto. He watched waiting for her to sing with more intensity and was rewarded with sounds of such longing, unrequited love.
Andreas forced himself to take deep steady breaths as he watched the assembly on stage. All of them were preparing for the next day. The day the revolution would begin, the day the looting would begin. The day that Marius and Cosette would be parted forever. "Will we ever meet again? I was born to be with you!" They sang to each other.
The pain in his heart seemed overwhelming as he heard the voice of another girl, saying goodbye to him forever. Watching her go out of his life with no power to stop it and no hope of ever finding a love like hers again. Sometimes he thought the aching of it would overwhelm him. The music rose to a fever pitch as the entire cast sang 'One Day More' and he thought sadly to himself that there was always one day more, it seemed an eternity of days to struggle through alone.
As the curtain fell Sebastian rose and before any of his family could object to his going, left the box. Slipping through the crowds in the hallways he made his way backstage. In the midst of all the confusion he saw his baby sister and hurried towards her.
"Sebastian, what are you doing here?" Asrai hissed at him as she helped her fellow actors shift a flat.
Sebastian lent her a hand pushing the flat along and waited until she turned to him. "Magnificent." He whispered. "It is simply wondrous Asrai. You're a genius. Easily Tredorian's equal, and he'd be the first to confirm it."
"Thank you." Asrai said crisply and shooed him away with her hands. "Now get out of the way. We're trying to get ready here."
Sebastian stared after his sister and absently obeyed her, nearly bumping into Ned, one of the Admirals men, who was also the actor playing Valjean. "Its outstanding you know." He grinned. "And this," he gestured to the stage, "is the best magic ever."
Ned grinned at him and motioned for the prince to help shift a flat. "What did you expect with this theatre's history?" He remarked. When Sebastian looked at him curiously the actor shrugged. "Legend says a guardian angel watches over this theatre. Only wonderful works are ever performed here. The angel sees to it."
"The angel?" Sebastian murmured curiously.
"An actor, so in love with an actress and the theatre that he lived for it, and died for it." Ned grinned. "It's the smile of Selena to have a good ghost in a theatre. It adds atmosphere." He clapped a hand on Sebastian's back and headed off to take on another task.
Sebastian shook his head over the superstitions of the actor and with a smile moved off to the back of the stage where he'd found the dressing rooms on one of his reconnaissance excursions. Dragon waited by one of them and the prince grinned at him. "Is Briar inside?"
Dragon nodded, his expression forbidding. "I really wouldn't go in though. She's practically 'having kittens' to quote Asrai, at the thought of going back onstage."
Sebastian looked at the man with a puzzled expression and Dragon explained quietly. "Briar's convinced she's not an actress, and she's got stage fright something awful."
"The standing ovations aside, she's not an actress?" Sebastian said incredulously. He shook his head. Entering the dressing room he saw his betrothed pacing nervously back and forth in the wig of dishwater blond hair she'd assumed for her chorus roles. "Beloved, you are wonderful!" He exclaimed. "You had everyone in the theatre in tears."
Briar looked at him and her face contorted suddenly. She dashed for the corner and lost what was left of her dinner in the chamber pot.
When Sebastian took a cloth and would have mopped her forehead tenderly she held him off. "Just give me some water. A cloth will wreck the stage makeup." She croaked out. When he handed her a mug she rinsed out her mouth and then took a calming sip. Making a face she went to the table and took a copper kettle from the brazier. "Mint tea." She explained. "Asrai said it would help my stomach."
Sebastian looked up as a bell rang and Briar took a shaky breath and a sip of tea. "That means ten more minutes and we must be in our places." Briar explained. "Oh Sebastian, I don't know if I can do this!" She wailed suddenly.
Sebastian wrapped his arms around her gently. "Beloved, you have sung before harsher audiences for years. Why is this so different?"
"Because this is for Asrai." Briar whispered. "I don't want to let her down, and it isn't my music…this is very different…it's singing from the viewpoint of someone else's character."
"I see." Sebastian nodded sympathetically. "Well from what I have seen thus far, you are doing admirably. You and Dragon both, and by rights he has far more reason to be nervous than you. He isn't used to an audience at all."
"Dragon?" Briar laughed. "Dragon ignores the audience. He says he has such a hard time remembering he is supposed to be Javert that he concentrates on that, it's all he has time to worry about."
Sebastian chuckled and shook his head. "Oh my love. You only have the second half left."
Briar groaned. "Spend it praying to Selena and Eilistraee that I do not disgrace myself, your family or Asrai's extraordinary work."
The door opened and an emerald eyed woman poked her head in. Her long deep brown locks were wound up under a mobcap and liberally dusted with grey. "Sebastian!" She said in a surprised voice. "What, by Lady Silverhair, are you doing here? Get back to your seat, we've only got a few more minutes and then the intermission is over."
"Grandmother?" Sebastian grinned. "All right I'm going." He said placatingly at her determined look. With one last look at Briar he exited the room and quietly made his way back to the royal box. His mother threw him a look as he entered and he smiled mischievously.
"You cut it rather fine didn't you?" She murmured as he took his seat.
"I'm here aren't I?" He protested with a grin. "Grandfather, you'll be delighted to know that your lady looks charming with grey hair." He murmured over his shoulder.
"I never doubted it." Elaith returned dryly. He could feel from his wife her excitement and delight throughout the play thus far and his sharp eyes easily picked her out among the chorus every time she was on stage.
Then the second act began.
The watcher had waited patiently, watching with interest as the object of his attention directed folk backstage and ordered off one to whom she was obviously related. That to be onstage was her greatest passion was obvious.
The music began again and he spared a moment to take note of the others on the stage. Though in his opinion she outshone them all they were many and varied interest to him. He was intrigued by the little brown haired girl who played the heroine Cosette. But she was a tad too fragile for his tastes. He watched with great enjoyment as his favorite began to sing after she was sent away to deliver a letter. Longing and love were mixed with the worldly knowledge that hope was of no use to her. Pretending she was with the man she loved was all she had and over when the dawn began to break.
Amon watched with tears in his eyes, the scene at the barricade, as the girl his daughter played, Eponine, died in the arms of the man she'd returned to. Knowing it could mean her death she'd returned and been run through with a sword. Now all her friend could do was make promises he couldn't keep in order to comfort her.
He felt his wife's hand over his and looked to see the tears trickling down her cheeks. He had no doubt she was remembering all the dear friends they'd lost over the years. The scene of the first siege a few moments earlier had evoked terrible memories in him and he wondered if his daughter knew how closely she'd captured the terror and confusion of battle.
Then the young men onstage were singing, softly as the women poured wine. Their voices rose in hushed reminiscence of girls they'd loved, girls they'd bedded and wondered if the others feared to die as they did. Would the world remember them? Would their deaths mean anything? Was the cause they fought for a lie?
Then the barricade was under siege again, and Amon nearly flinched at the fierceness and hopelessness of the battle.
Andreas gritted his teeth together and clutched at the arms of his chair. He would get through this somehow, he thought to himself. He would keep his family from seeing how much this mockery on a stage effected him. It was only a make believe battle, he told himself, only a show for effect. But the music, the voices of the men pretending to be students fighting for a hopeless cause, trying to incite rebellion in a people who had no spirit left, was too like what all soldiers felt before a battle. The fear, seeking solace in happy memories, wondering if a loved one would weep if you fell.
Then the scene was over, and the man Valjean was carrying the boy away, saving his life.
The watcher regarded the scarred man in interest as he sang. This one had no real interest in what he was doing. He sang for a love of music, and with passion, but to one such as the watcher it was evident that this man was not an actor or even a bard. His voice was amazingly good for one who had not made a profession of music though and the watcher could enjoy the performance for that alone.
The character Javert swore by the stars that there was no way to go on, and as the audience watched in shocked dismay, climbed over the bridge and jumped off of it, to fall somehow endlessly and then disappear.
Elaith watched as the actor who played Marius sang of his grief, which couldn't be expressed in words, and his pain which never seemed to end, for all his friends were gone, to a needless death, and he lived for reasons he knew not.
From his wife he felt the sorrow rising through their bond and knew she thought of the friends she'd lost so long ago. Her comrades had died for the Realms, but they were still gone, and she still lived, and there were times when she wondered why it was so.
Hoping to comfort her Elaith deliberately thought of the first time they'd met, and the amazed delight they'd both felt and tried, not altogether successfully, to conceal. He was rewarded with the feeling of a smile from her and the impression that she too was thinking of the past with joy now.
The watcher could have shouted in exaltation. She was to sing again, he could see her in the wings, along with the black haired girl, waiting for their cue. Onstage Cosette was pleading with Valjean not to die. She and her new husband Marius had come from their wedding to be with her adopted father on his deathbed. Now she was learning Valjean had written the truth of her life's story and of those who'd loved her.
At those words Briar as Fantine stepped forward out of the shadows and crooned in loving comfort. "Come with me, where chains will never bind you." She went on to speak of grief being behind him, and to ask the gods for mercy on his behalf.
Asrai stepped forward and took his other hand, as their voices joined sweetly, contralto and soprano. "Take my hand, and lead me to salvation. Take my love, for love is everlasting. And remember, the truth that once was spoken, to love another person is to see the face of gods…"
Faintly, from the shadows the chorus was singing, and the voices grew stronger as Valjean stood and joined all those who had died on the barricade. They sang of a life beyond the valley of night, where the wretched of the earth would find a place where the sun would rise.
The voices grew stronger and stronger until the entire company was proudly crying out the words. On the final ringing note, a call of joyous exaltation, the curtain finally fell.
Lorelei sat, stunned, tears streaming down her cheeks, and stared at the curtain, willing it to rise, for there to be just a little more to the story. As if from a distance she heard someone, in the audience below her, slowly begin to clap, as if waking from a dream.
Others joined in and then the applause was thunderous, breaking into cheers and shouts of delight as the curtain rose. One by one the players bowed or curtsied and retreated the curtain falling again. The entire playhouse was on its feet, shouting for more and bursting the buttons on evening gloves as they kept clapping.
Finally the curtain rose again and the company sang the last song again, taking a bow as a group once it was done and retreated behind the curtain for the final time.
TBC