Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera or any of its adaptations or characters.

Title: Songbird

Summary: After the death of her father, Christine finds herself at the mercy of an aunt she hardly knew existed. With her entire world changing in an instant, her future never seemed so uncertain. Yet, the mysterious masked lord may just be able to offer her a life unlike anything she ever imagined.

Author's Note: So this chapter may seem a bit filler/boring. I admit that it probably is. Therefore I apologize. In stories such as this, it is necessary to establish a bit more of the setting and back story before getting into the good stuff, I suppose. However, be reassured that very soon now we shall see some Erik/Christine interaction.

Chapter 2 - Tour

Madame Giry glanced at the face of the hanging wall clock yet again. The pendulum ticked the seconds away steadily, filling the otherwise quiet kitchen and dining space. Despite the table being nearly full, nobody talked. Perhaps they were waiting in anticipation for the new recruit to make it down the steps. Or perhaps there just wasn't anything to say. Under the latter, her daughter Meg would have provided some sort of relief, but she was not currently present.

Madame Giry wasn't entirely sure if she was hoping her niece would fail to make it down in time, as it was only a minute before six. She decided that half of her was expecting Christine to be late and the other half was hoping she would be proven wrong.

Sure enough, with only mere seconds to go, Christine descended into the kitchen wearing her complete uniform and a large, friendly smile. It appeared that the all black uniform fit her form quite perfectly. It brushed the ground and hugged her waist comfortably. Despite the high collar and sleeves that touched her wrist, it was evident that her movement was not restricted. None of the staff wore an apron, except for Dominique in the kitchen. The dark material hid most stains and the wash every other week did the rest.

"Good morning, everyone," Christine said, taking the last available seat at the table. "I've obviously just been taken on. My name is Christine."

Joseph Buquet tried to hide behind his thinning brown hair and seemed distracted by something else entirely. He wasn't much of a talker, as she had discovered on her transport to the chateau. Monsieur Reyer was easily distinguishable as the oldest member of the staff seated at the table. His wispy white hair and wrinkled face spoke of too many years in the sun. He smiled nicely, though, and nodded at her.

"Pleased to meet you, Mademoiselle Christine," the only other man at the table greeted. "I am Lefèvre. It will be a pleasure working alongside a lovely young woman such as yourself."

Christine's eyes darted to her aunt, who produced a look as though this was a common act of his. So, looking back at Monsieur Lefèvre, she smiled sweetly again and replied, "You flatter me when flattery is not necessary. I am just glad to be here."

A bowl of porridge was dropped in front of her with a loud clang. It startled Christine and caused her to glance upward. A plump, middle aged woman with sandy locks stood over her. "Ignore him. He knows better. I am Dominique. It is best for you to stay on my good side, girl, as I am the one handling all of your food from now on." She gave a welcoming and light-hearted smile, and her entire entrance caused Christine to giggle.

Madame Giry, liking order and professionalism, cleared her throat. Dominique immediately retreated back to her domain. At that moment, too, the little pretty blonde came skipping down the steps with a pair of ballet shoes in one hand. Instantly, Madame Giry's demeanor altered. She stood to greet her daughter and tend to her.

"Meg, you are going to be late," she scolded.

"Please, mama, I know." Meg bounced over to Dominique and touched her lightly on the shoulder. "Have you got a biscuit, Dominique? I am sorry, but I must run." Dominique smiled understandingly and handed her something that Christine couldn't make out.

"You cannot waste the opportunity Monsieur Erik has given to you," Madame Giry continued in a hushed severe tone. "If he had not offered to pay for your ballet, you would never have had this opportunity." She grasped Meg's arm tightly. Her voice dropped down another decibel or two, if that were even possible. "Do you know how it would make me look should you make a mess of his generosity?"

Meg ripped her arm from her mother's grasp. "I am leaving now. I won't embarrass you, mama." She twirled on her heel and departed the room.

Madame Giry straightened out her uniform and cleared her throat. Then she rejoined the others at the table as if nothing had happened. It was important that she keep up a controlled appearance. She realized that they were within earshot of the rest of the staff, despite having done her best to control her volume level. That happened at times with her daughter, unfortunately. So, with grace, she did her best afterward to recover.

"Well hurry up and eat then, girl," she told Christine. "We must not waste the day. There is much to show you."

Christine had only gotten through a few bites of her porridge, but she wasn't about make her aunt wait. She stood as the older woman did, and then followed her out.

xXx

Christine was shown the grounds outside, which included the gardens, the stables, and the matching shed that housed the outdoor tools. The gardens were as much of a labyrinth as the halls of the chateau were. But with Madame Giry leading the way, Christine was taken by the fountain and the gazebo and then safely led out.

Back inside of the chateau, Christine was ushered around to all of the areas that she would be assigned to. Mainly, she learned, that her work would be consisting of dusting, sweeping, polishing, and any other side tasks that Madame Giry deemed necessary. The latter was very adamant that she not wander into areas she was not familiar with, and reassured that if there were tasks that led her into these other rooms and wings, Madame Giry would instruct her or show her where she had to go.

Finally, the tour led them to the edge of a darkened corridor that appeared to veer off on its own from the rest of the mansion. "This area is strictly forbidden," Madame Giry informed with her back to the blackened hallway. "It is the master's personal rooms and he does not like to be disturbed. Is that understood?"

Christine tried to glance around Madame Giry and into the darkness, but it was useless. She couldn't see anything beyond about two feet inward. Yet, despite the warnings, she found that she was more curious than anything. Especially since the master of the chateau had yet to introduce himself. "When will I meet the master?" Christine inquired. "I would certainly like to thank him for his generosity."

"Don't be so daft, child," Madame Giry chided. "The master is far too busy to cater to the whims of his household staff."

"I see." Christine dropped the subject, but not her interest. "What is it that he does?"

It was clear that her aunt was beginning to become impatient and didn't particular like spilling details about her employer. "Master Erik composes operas and consults on pieces created by others. He is really very good at his work, and also very dedicated."

Christine nodded, impressed. "Would I recognize any of his work?"

"Certainly, but currently that should be the least of your concerns. Your mind should be focused on your tasks here and not on the master and his business."

"I understand, Madame Giry. I am just trying to learn more of Erik and therefore better my own efforts so that he may approve," Christine said innocently.

"You will refer to him as Master Erik, if you must," Madame Giry corrected harshly. "You will not show him such disrespect."

"Yes, ma'am," she said softly and shortly.

Mentally, her mind was rampant with what she had just learned. It was quite a pleasant surprise that her new employer was part of the music world, as she was very fond of the subject herself. Her father would constantly play his violin and she would accompany him. She had found her voice at an early age and stretched it accordingly to his tunes.

That didn't make her any sort of expert, of course. She had only dreamed of being on an actual stage and belting to a real audience. Even so, she could still appreciate it as much as the next person.

With just that briefest of information, she could already understand why he may have wanted to assist Meg in her ballet efforts. As an artist, if he had seen the talent that lay within the sprightly girl then he would have felt compelled to lend a helping hand. Of course, all of these thoughts were merely assumptions on Christine's part. She figured that if she ever came across the master of the chateau she could certainly put her questions to him.

Master Erik was an enigma that Christine was curious to figure out. If she never actually ever got her chance to meet with him face to face, she figured just musing about him would assist in making her days just a bit more entertaining and time flow just a bit faster.

Madame Giry cleared her throat. "Now come along. We are already far behind schedule as it is." She bustled past her niece, indicating that it really was time to head out.

Christine hesitated, giving one last look at the restricted corridor, before pivoting to follow her aunt. Little did she know as she made her leave that within those shadows was a pair of eyes looking on in just as much curiosity.