Angel of Grey

Chapter four: Despair's Dance

Meg stretched with a yawn, and noticed yet again a plate of dried fruit, but this time it was accompanied by fish. It was steaming hot, and obviously very fresh. As she took a bite she wondered exactly how the Phantom knew when she was going to wake up - in an exact enough time for her to have hot food each time she awoke. He must have put it there just as she began to wake, but she didn't se him enter or leave. The Phantom…No…Erik. She remembered last night and wondered if she dreamt it. No, she couldn't have dreamt it. If she were to imagine up a name for the Phantom it would be much more elaborate than Erik…He had told her after all.

As she finished off the fish (it was simple, but good with the slight taste of herbs) and fruit she wondered why he agreed to give her his name in the end. She shook her head. Again, trying to understand him would be like trying to understand why the stars hung in the sky.

She looked over to the books, and decided to see what was on those shelves. One of her favorite pastimes was reading. Before she and her mother moved away from her father, Meg would pass her time looking at the books her father owned. Her mother made sure that her daughter was well-educated…and Meg was a bright child. She would never be a genius, but she was a quick learner…and when a child is confined to her rooms with nothing but books to keep her company, she learned to read quickly because the alternative waste away doing nothing all day. By the time she was three she could read, and understand the simple children's teaching books that her mother bought her. She couldn't fully understand her fathers books, but she would still look at them, and enjoy the diagrams and drawings of plant life, the solar system, famous buildings, and the human body.

When they moved into the Opera House she didn't have much time outside of her ballet training, but she always set aside at least an hour or two a week to study. Some of her fondest memories oddly enough was when she was too sick to practice, and she was able to sit by the fire with a hot drink and read for hours on end.

There were five shelves on the bookcase. The first two shelves were filled with books much like her father's collection, factual books filled with interesting insights on the various subjects. The third shelf down held a few of great classics of literature…poetry, and fiction. The last two shelves were packed with messily bound books all handwritten. These caught her interest the most…they held a treasure of brilliant notes and studies on everything - medicine, the human body, architecture, and…designs for inventions beyond her comprehension. She pulled all of them out, fascinated. This would keep her occupied for a while.

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She was being much too quiet. A couple of days had passed and she hadn't tried to leave the room, or come to him with some ridiculous request. She slept, ate the food he brought her each morning, and seemed to be following his conditions to a perfect tee.

She had to be plotting something.

He put the book he had been studying down, and got up slowly. He would have to check on her, just to be careful. The girl had a quick wit, and wasn't as stupid as he was first led to believe, so it was best to air on the side of caution. He stood up and pulled the curtain aside just enough so he could peek in and not be noticed.

He could have walked right into the room, and she would not have noticed from the looks of the scene before him. Most of the books on the bookshelf were off the shelves, and piled around the girl who sat in the middle of her bed. She was currently hunched over a volume on medicine that he had written himself, seeming to be in deep contemplation. She obviously wasn't just looking at it for fun. Her body was tense, her brow creased, her face the picture of intelligent thought and fascination.

Suddenly she laughed, and to herself muttered,

"No wonder it tasted so bad! Just look at the ingredients…he could fix it by adding a little honey and ginger…and then it wouldn't have upset my stomach so much…" Her mutterings faded off as her thoughts once again retreated to her head.

He hadn't thought of that. True, the medicine he gave her worked well, but a side effect was an upset stomach. He was genuinely surprised.

His surprise was quickly overcome by annoyance. Who said she could read his scientific studies?

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Meg looked up from the book when she heard Erik walk in.

"Ah. My benevolent benefactor. What do I owe the pleasure of your royal presence?" Meg quipped.

Erik simply clenched and unclenched his jaw, then answered in a half-growl

"It would do you well to address me with much more respect than that."

"But I thought I was." Meg answered in a mock innocent tone.

"No you are not, you - this is besides the point! What do you think you are doing reading those volumes?"

Meg looked down at the books, then back up at him.

"Is this some sort of trick question or what?" She asked, one eyebrow raised.

"No." He growled.

"Considering it's pretty obvious what I'm doing I didn't think it needed explanation! I'm holed up in here with nothing to do but read the books on that shelf. What do you expect me to do? Stare at the walls and brood all day like you do?"

"I do not sit around all day and brood."

"You do s-" Meg said, but was cut off by Erik,

"You have not answered my question. Why are you reading those? Why not the fiction, or the poetry?" He asked, gesturing to the only books that were still on the shelf.

"Because I find these more interesting."

"Perhaps they were not for you to read! They are personal!"

"If that was the case then why are they sitting here out in the open!"

"I…"

"Admit it, I've got you there."

"I admit to nothing."

"Well then why are those books there? You had to know I would pick them up eventually."

"I didn't think they would interest you!"

"Why? Because you think I'm a stupid girl?" Meg retorted, standing up.

"You know, I bet you don't even think that I understand these, and that I'm just looking at the diagrams and pictures, just like all the other people thought of me when they saw me studying. Just another silly, pretty blonde, pretending to study to look cute!" She added, venom in her voice.

"I wouldn't be worried about you reading them if I knew you wouldn't understand them!"

Meg opened her mouth, then closed it again, speechless. Erik walked up to her and picked up a particular volume.

"Have you read this one?"

Meg, still stunned, hesitated before she replied,

"Oh…I…no not that one." She said, as he indicated the black leather bound volume in his hand.

"Good." He said, and turned to walk out.

"I can read these?" Meg said, indicating the rest of the piles.

"Yes. If it pleases you to fill your head with this knowledge." He said with a sigh

"It does." She said, now feeling drained after her outburst.

"All of this…the ideas…some of the them I do not understand; but the ones that I do…some of this could really do good in this world." She continued, looking up at Erik.

"I have no wish to do good for a world that has turned it's back on me." Erik said, and with that stepped out of her room.

Only when he had left did Meg stop to wonder what was in that little black volume…but she didn't dare ask, knowing he probably wouldn't answer, and would only get him angry. She was lucky he didn't take away one of her few forms of entertainment.

Not to mention he complimented her. Not in the conventional sense of course…but he did. She sat down amongst the books again, and opened it back up All of these books would keep her occupied for at least another week.

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The next week passed with a semblance of peace. Erik brought Meg food, and she took a little time to eat before she spent the rest of the day immersed in his books. He had to admire her for her tenacity, he hadn't seen such zeal in finding knowledge since himself when he was a child.

Now, he was left alone again, in total silence.

Yet now he was faced with an interesting dilemma. The distraction of having to take care of a hostage had kept his thoughts of Christine at bay, and now they all came flooding back at once. Try as he might, he could not forget about his accursed angel.

He couldn't stop the thoughts of her in that stupid fop's arms. The thoughts of her sleeping in Raoul's arms each night, instead of his. Of her beautiful voice being wasted on that sad excused for a knight on a white horse.

Days upon days of these constant thoughts had built up against him, and it was more than his mind could take. He was torn between weeping, and smashing everything in sight. So he took the third recourse. He sang.

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Meg looked up from the last book, when she heard something odd. She got up, and pushed the curtain aside. Erik stood at the lake's edge, and a sound like nothing she had ever heard before came from him. Wordless, formless, song. Beautiful, intensely sad, it filled her, pushed out every other thought until all her mind held was empty despair. The song took more form and then words, shaky and punctuated with sobs, but still beautiful.

Imprisoned by my angel of music, bound

She's ascended, leaving me underground

I never could have seen the betrayal in her eyes

Because love makes fools out of even the most wise…

The melody had such undertones of despair, lost hope, bitterness, and hated love, that it overwhelmed her. The power of the song was magnificent, yet unbearable at the same time. She found herself drawn forward, tears streaming down her face.

She reached the shore, behind him, and she knew that he was aware of her presence, but was too lost in his song to care.

Filled with this feeling, she expressed it the only way she could.

She danced.

It was unlike any other dance she had ever done. The other dances, all so lighthearted and innocent, were not appropriate for this song. This song called for expressive, slow hand movements and tragic grace.

She got so lost in her dance, that she did not notice when Erik turned, still singing, to face her. When he stopped, she felt like strings had been cut and she fell to the ground in a heap, weeping. Erik walked up to her and took her hands, helping her up. She looked up and met his eyes, which were still wet with his tears. For a moment, she felt that she had a complete understanding of him, as she looked into his eyes and the song lingered in her mind. Then he let go of her hands and stepped away from her.

"I am sorry, my dear. I did not mean to…put this on your shoulders." He said, his voice hoarse with grief, "It is not your burden to bear."

"I…I…" Meg stuttered, but Erik hushed her; and opened his mouth to sing again.

Meg, go back to your room; and you will forget

Your troubles will all fade away

A dreamless sleep within your head will be kept

And your nightmares be kept at bay

Meg wiped her eyes dry as she felt all the emptiness and despair draining from her body, and she let herself be led to her room.

He watched as she settled in the bed, and obediently pulled the covers over her, burrowing deep in the pillows.

"Sleep, Meg. Do not dream of despair, as I do." he said, and walked out of her room.

The last thoughts in her head was that for the first time, he hadn't just called her girl…he had called her Meg.

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Don't think things are going to be that easy, they'll be fighting again in no time ;-). Again, as always, reviews are VERY MUCH appreciated!