Madame Giry stood slowly, straightening her back with several loud cracks. She was getting older—her hair was shot with gray, and she leaned on her cane whenever she walked—but no one could say that the ballet mistress lost any of her spirit. She still danced, though she never went up on pointe anymore, and her eyes still had that same cold steel in them that they had always had. Many believed Antoinette Giry to be immortal, but the woman knew full well that she was on the downward slope of life. She had Meg far too late in her life; that in itself nearly destroyed her body, but she refused to be beaten by something as trivial as childbirth. As soon as the doctors had taken her baby—to "clean her", they claimed—she stood up, ignoring the lingering pain from labor, and did her entire barre routine.
No human alive dared to say that Madame Giry was anything but incredible, least of all Erik.
"This is taking forever!" Jessica exclaimed, her wet clothes chafing her in the worst places as Erik led her through cavern tunnel after cavern tunnel. He didn't dare use the main halls to Giry, though they would be faster; if his mask didn't make a scene, Jessica certainly would.
"Would you just stay silent!" Erik's voice grew hard and cold. If there was a God, would he ever create such an annoying creature? "You're worse than Carlotta!" Jessica blinked several times; what the hell was a Carlotta? Was that a French derogatory term or something? Before Jessica could ask, Erik stopped dead in his tracks; the girl, not paying attention to him, walked straight into his back.
"Stupid girl," Erik muttered in French. He nudged open a side panel of a wall and looked out. The hallway was deserted. He turned back and made a motion for Jessica to stay silent, then took her arm, and stepped out of his secret passageway. The lights hurt his eyes, and for a very brief moment, he passed his hands over his eyelids. Jessica was affected in the very same way, though she just squinted. Slowly though, her eyes became adjusted to the bright light, and she could see for herself exactly where she was.
She wasn't up North anymore, Auntie Em.
The hallway seemed to stretch out forever on either side of her; all the walls were evenly spaced with doors, and the portions of the walls not leading to other rooms were covered in paintings, recreations of the masters. Jessica saw several Da Vinci's and other beautiful paintings, though she couldn't tell who the artists were; art was never her strong point. In the distance, far off to her right, she could hear faint voices laughing and yelling.
"I'm… I'm really in France, aren't I?" Jessica asked quietly as Erik knocked twice on one of the hundreds of doors. He looked at her and nodded, very slowly. The gravity of her situation finally hit her, and her face started to pale rapidly. 'Don't cry,' she begged herself. 'Oh dear God, don't let me cry!'
It was at that moment that Madame Giry opened the door. Seeing Erik, her eyes widened and she glanced quickly around the hallway to make sure they were alone. Furtively, she motioned for him to enter her room, not noticing Jessica at all. Erik stepped over the threshold, and then motioned for Jessica to follow him.
"Who is this?" Madame Giry asked when she saw the girl, her eyes flashing accusatorily at Erik. "Erik, I swear to the Lord, that if you've hurt her—!"
"This, Antoinette, is Jessica." Jessica perked her head up when she hear her name spoken, though she hadn't understood a word of what was being said up until that point. 'Stupid French language.'
Erik continued. "I found her on my lake. She seems to have… suffered a head wound or a shock, for she believes herself to be… well, from the future." Giry stiffened when Erik said that, and warily stole a glance at the girl.
"And what do you want me to do about it?" she asked, holding her head up high. "You know far more about medicine and science than I do. What can I do about her suffering from this… shock?"
Erik motioned at Jessica's clothing. "She needs clothes, Antoinette. I'll not have her walking around like… like she is now. She needs to at least look like a woman." Erik didn't mention that the real reason he was having Madame Giry help him was so he could get rid of the girl. He would stand by his decision to not play the nursemaid, and the easiest way to do that would be to get rid of the girl in question. Besides, Erik had perfect faith in Giry; she raised him, or at least, attempted to, and Erik was sure that Jessica would not be nearly as difficult as he was.
"I just need you to help her get started," Erik said. "Just get her some clothes. I'll try to talk to her and see if I can jog her memory. If my psychology training serves me correctly, I can hypothesize that she had undergone a serious trauma and is blocking the pain by believing that she's from the future. I'm sure that if we can just… get her to face reality, everything shall be alright."
Madame Giry turned from Erik and faced Jessica, who looked the ballet mistress squarely in the eyes, though her eyebrows curved upward, showing her fear and hesitation. Jessica had no idea what had just passed between Madame Giry and Erik.
"Jessica," Erik said quietly, as if he were talking to a small child, "this is Madame Giry. She'll help you find something suitable to wear." Jessica nodded and Giry, using mainly hand motions and a stray word here and there, directed the girl to follow her. Erik quickly left the room, not wanting to see anything of this process.
The dress was just that: a dress. Jessica crinkled her nose in disgust when she saw it, causing Madame Giry to give her a questioning look.
"I don't like dresses…" she trailed off, realizing that the woman couldn't understand her. On an impulse, she grabbed the leg of her jean and shook it, making a happy face and nodding her head. Then she pointed to the dress in front of her and looked like she had eaten a bug. The result was instantaneous: Giry burst out laughing, and then motioned for Jessica to undress. Though she found the girl humorous, she wasn't about to be sidetracked from her main task. Sighing, Jessica pulled her hair into a messy bun and complied with her wishes.
Time passed slowly for Erik—he had never been an overly patient man. Finally he was rewarded by Antoinette's door opening. He stepped inside, and saw only Giry.
"What happened to Jessica?" he asked.
"You talk to her," Antoinette said in a huff. "I find her a dress that fits well—and you don't know how much of a miracle that is!—and she acts as if she's… embarrassed to be seen in it! I can't believe her! I may not give her that which has clothed queens, but you'd—! Honestly, Erik! Speak with her!" She pointed to a wall divider, where Erik could just make out the girl's silhouette.
"Jessica?" he asked quietly, praying that she wouldn't try his patience. "Don't act like this. You've insulted Madame Giry. Come out from behind there and show what it looks like on you."
"Tell her I'm sorry for insulting her, but I'm not coming out," Jessica said. "I look like a girl !" Erik felt his temper start to rise.
"I thought you were a girl," he accused. "Now come out here, or I'll drag you out!"
"And what if I'm not decent?"
"To hell with decency!" Erik growled. "You have five seconds." There was a slight shifting behind the divider. "Four seconds." The shifting stopped. "Three seconds. Two seconds. One se—"
"Alright! Alright already!" Jessica cried as she stepped into view. "There. Are you happy now?"
Erik nearly choked; she looked… beautiful. The dress was a soft pink, and the petticoats showing were a pearly white, making her face glow ethereally. The bodice fit snugly underneath her bust line and the skirt fit perfectly against her waist, the fabric flowing gently in a waterfall of cloth. The color made her eyes sparkle, her lips look like roses, and her hair—oh no. Her hair was all wrong.
Erik walked up behind her and pulled out her bun. "What are you doing?" Jessica cried, trying to slap away his hands as he arranged her brown tresses to frame her face. Erik ignored her, and purposely pulled a lock of her hair to warn her to be silent. She bit her lower lip and waited until he was finished.
"There," he said when he thought her appropriate. He pulled her in front of Giry's vanity. "Now you look beautiful."
Though Jessica hated to admit it, he was right. She gingerly touched the side of her face; the woman in the mirror did the same.
"Is that… really me?" she asked in wonder. She never wore her hair down back at home, and everyone knew that she would never be caught dead in a dress. But this… this seemed to not only make her look good, but to also make her feel, as Erik put it, beautiful.
Erik motioned to Madame Giry and held a hurried conversation with her. "What are you talking about?" Jessica asked. "Oh, and didn't you say that I insulted her? Uh, how do you say 'I'm sorry' in French?"
Erik told her the words to say, and after Jessica dutifully repeated them and Antoinette was sufficiently mollified, he added, "I was asking her the size of this dress. We'll need to get you more like it, if I know women. Your gender has a tendency to require several different types of clothing." Jessica groaned at the thought of more dresses, but Erik ignored her. Taking her arm, he led her out of the room.
"We'll need to take a quick stop back at my house; I forgot my cloak. Oh! And I almost forgot! Wait here; I'll be back in just a minute." He left Jessica standing just outside the panel of the secret passageway as he trailed back into Madame Giry's dressing room.
"Antoinette?" She turned around and faced him. "About those clothes Jessica had been wearing before… can I ask you to do me a favor?"
"Of course, Erik."
"Good." He smiled like a Cheshire cat. "Incinerate them for me, would you?"