A large gold gilded clock chimed out that it was midnight. Éponine sat listening to Erik tell her how to sing properly. He would not seem to comprehend that she had no interest in learning how to sing, or for that fact being stuck like a slave in the depths of an Opera House. How was she supposed to get Marius when he didn't even know where she'd vanished to? But, she knew that if she was going to survive in this strange world of music, with a stranger who wore a mask she would have to tolerate significantly more than she was used to. Which said a lot when her life consisted of dealing with her father and Montparnasse and several other "suitors", and trying to attract the man she was desperately in love with.
"It is late, can this be done? You do sleep don't you?"
"Yes," He narrowed his eyes, adjusting his vest. "You may sleep there," He motioned towards an antechamber that was shrouded by delicate see-through fabrics. There was an elaborate swan bed, bathed in the golden lights.
Éponine's eyes shot wide, "I've never seen a bed like that."
"Go," She bit her lip as she glanced towards the bed. "Go. Do not fear, child. I have no interest in sleeping tonight, especially with you. There is music in my mind and I must put it to paper tonight."
"Thank you," She rose slowly, making her way towards the bed. Perhaps it would not be so terrible here. She'd never had a bed quite like that before. It was grand and gorgeous, but it was not just an attractive looking bed it looked comfortable. She pressed her palm against the mattress. It was.
"Monsieur Erik," Éponine spoke, meaning to thank him but she turned and found him directly behind. Her heart skipped a beat, "I did not hear you there."
"Yes?" His uncovered eyebrow quirked up. His eyes searched face.
"I meant to thank you," She glanced down, feeling uncomfortable under his glare.
"I came to tell you that I will wake you at quarter past six, we will begin your first lesson of the day then. At half past seven we will share breakfast." Erik gulped at the thought; Antoinette had never been able to stay to have breakfast with him she was always needed for her own lessons. After Éponine was soundly asleep he would go to tell her what he had done, request she bring them both food for the day. "Then I will attempt to teach you more about notes and the sounds that they make until the clock strikes noon. At that time we will break for a two hour period, which we will share our dinner in and talk. We will resume your training until supper, and then return to training after."
Éponine started him with a blank expression before bursting out laughing, "You do not really mean that?"
"What?" His lip curled up in a grimace.
"I cannot be taught to sing nearly all day! Do you want to drive me mad?"
"You will do as I say." His fists clenched tight, before her turned sharply on his heels and left her.
Éponine shook her head, knowing there was no way she could make it through the day. His arrangement was unsettling; he intended to spend every waking moment with her. Was he so starved for companionship that he would kidnap and force someone to take on the role? He was not a bad looking man, though the mask was off-putting. The side of his face that you could see, seemed nice enough. Nothing like her Marius, but nice.
She pulled the covers down, relishing the feel the silkiest satin beneath her fingers. She kicked off her shoes, removed her belt, and nervously removed her skirt. It left her in her bloomers and chemise, which left her feeling bare in unfamiliar company. But, Erik had busied himself with playing haunting melodies at the organ, seeming uninterested in her like she was familiar with most men.
This bed was heaven. And it didn't take her very long to fall asleep.
~o~
"It is time to wake up." The voice penetrated her dreams, luring her back into the waking world. "Éponine, it is time for your lessons." The voice sang to her senses. How was it that a normal man had such a surreal voice?
Éponine rolled over in the bed, covering her face with her arm. "I'm waking up." She mumbled, rubbing her eyes. It hadn't been a dream because the man with the masked face was still there. She was really asleep in a grand Persian Swan bed with the finest satin sheets.
And she was still the prisoner of a mad masked man who insisted on teaching her to sing.
"For you," He held out a pale blue dress, it was a beautiful dress. It was delicate and flouncy and something she imagined seeing Cosette in – not her.
"For me?"
"For you," He repeated, a smile curving his revealed lip.
Éponine pulled the covers up around her as she sat up in the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "How many other women have you kept down here?"
"You are the first," He laid the dress on the bed, "But I have been preparing for something like this."
"Please turn around." She said, as she started to get out of the bed. Sure, several men had seen her undressed, but that didn't mean she was comfortable with this stranger seeing her.
As she examined the dress she kept checking to make sure that he was obeying her. Erik never seemed to even flinch as she rustled the dress to get into it. "Can you get the laces, please?" She asked hesitantly, turning around and brushing her hair over her shoulder.
Erik stared at her laces, examining them. The thought of lacing her dress up was a dizzying duty. With his gloved hands he slowly began to lop them together, tugging at them to keep it tight around her waist. Making sure that it fit her snugly.
"Thank you," She said quietly as she bit her lip in pain. She was not used to such tight fitting clothes, nor was she used to grand beautiful things.
"Come we must begin your lesson before we waist away this morning with useless 'thank you's." Éponine turned to find him already striding towards the organ.
He was a strange man. She felt that the mask was just the beginning of the mysteries that surrounded the "Phantom" the "Ghost" the "Monster", the man named Erik.
A/N: Erik is like the Webber Phantom more than the Leroux. I love both, but I think Webber's half mask is more romantic because you can see at least one side of emotions. Éponine is also not "pure" and "innocent" like I've wrote her in the past. She has made her money selling herself, and pleasing her father's friends.