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: Some of you may have already noticed that I do some passing references to the songs in Phantom of the Opera musical. I like to think of it as a little chuckle. I will more than likely continue to do this, as I find it fun and amusing. I hope that all of you find the same enjoyment in it.
Chapter 9 – A Face in the Darkness
Christine lay awake, staring helpless into the black void that rested above her bed whenever night fell. It had been quite a different day. She had grown so used to meeting with Erik for the midday meal and practicing her vocals. In fact, the sessions had even begun to run into dinner time. However, that day, Erik had been nowhere to be found.
Madame Giry had broken the news to her over breakfast. He had been called away on some errand. To verify, Joseph Buquet had not been present. It didn't seem very often that Erik utilized his coach, but when it did occur, it seemed to be an all-day affair.
In his absence, Madame Giry had set her to work. It was as if she had been making up for the amount of work that Christine had missed out on. She couldn't remember a day when she had been more exhausted. Yet, sleep eluded her. And, there was only one reason: Erik's mysterious absence.
Finding it impossible to close her eyes without some sort of respite, Christine rolled out of bed and lit the candle on the bedside table. In the glow, she retrieved a robe from the wardrobe and wrapped it snuggly around her frame, attempting to stave off the chill. She slipped her feet into a pair of simple slippers then, with the candle in one hand, she snuck out of her room.
She did her best to tiptoe through the servant's hallway, afraid that the littlest noise might wake someone. She dreaded what her punishment might be should she be caught. So she shaded the single flame with one hand and held her breath. The pounding of her heart resonated in her ears, beating much like a war drum. It wasn't until she had made it safely through the enemy lines that she breathed a sigh of relief and continued on without so much caution.
The chateau was a very different place at night. The darkness turned everything into horrifying versions of reality. Shadows danced across her path, being thrown into even bigger fits by the presence of her lit candle. She remained quiet and non-intrusive of the world of darkness the shadows belonged to. She stayed within the orb the light offered and only took the most immediate path that led to her destination.
After she had gotten to the top of the spiral staircase, she neared the door to Erik's chambers. The closer and closer she drew to that door, she began to catch a hint of muffled tune. It wasn't until she was right up against the wood that the music was quite distinct. It was only obvious that it was coming from within his quarters. Her heart leapt for a moment because it could only mean that he had returned.
She lifted her hand to knock on the door, but stopped. The music, though just a simple tinkle, as if through a music box, was entrancing. She could feel a sadness that was not her own overcoming her—a past that was better left forgotten weighing her down. Instead of alerting the occupant of the room to her presence, she thought better and quietly let herself in.
Never before had she penetrated his private quarters without ample permission. The thrill excited her and made her dreadfully nervous at the same time. A little bit of sense in the back of her head told her that she shouldn't be invading his privacy in such a way, but it was already too late. She had already stepped over the threshold.
Again, the chamber she walked into appeared different from normally filled with darkness. Granted it wasn't completely bright the previous times she had been there, but it certainly seemed more welcoming than what she currently stood in. The bookshelves around the room felt closer than usual, like they were hovering above and waiting to strike at the most opportune moment. The high-backed armchair that faced away from any guest seemed quite foreboding. She was almost expecting someone or something to pop out from behind it and scare her to death. The piano, which typically held such life for her, appeared lonely and out of place. It suddenly seemed as if it hadn't been played in centuries.
The music acted as a beacon and led her through this dark forest. She stood at the entryway to the very short corridor that contained Erik's most private rooms. She could hear the tune echoing from someplace down that way, but was hesitant to follow. While stepping carefully through the main chamber of his quarters, she had begun to have doubts as to his presence, but she fully understood once she had reached that back corridor that she would definitely find him down there.
Christine took a deep breath and plunged forward. Her feet became like feathers, just barely brushing the floor in front of her. Her breathing became quieter, even catching now and then to prevent it from being at all audible. It was too late for her to go back. She had crossed that point of no return.
There were only three doors down the short hallway, and only one was cracked open. The other two didn't matter, anyway, since the music was most assuredly coming from the room at the very end. Christine made sure to blow out the flame on her candle, not wanting to be noticed. From the look of the flickering light jutting from the room and into the hall, there were certainly a couple of candles already alight within. Luckily, this allowed enough light in which to see by.
Christine crept right up to the door and peered through the small opening. It was a bed chamber, that was for certain, and it was most assuredly larger than hers—five times the size to be precise. A large round bed with black silk sheets was against the wall with the door. She could see it off to the side and a set of balcony doors just beyond it built into the adjoining wall. On the wall across the way, though, was a vanity of dark wood with an oval mirror topping it. From where she loitered, it appeared as though an attempt had been made to cover the mirror with a dark cloth. Currently, however, that cloth only managed to disguise half of it. The only plausible explanation was that it had slipped to uncover the other half.
It was across the room and on top of the surface of the vanity, among some other odds and ends, that she saw what had to be the music box that the enchanting tune was emanating from. It was difficult to make out any details, but she was almost positive that the shape atop it was that of a monkey clapping its hands together. She was becoming so comfortable with it that when a shape moved in front of her vision, she nearly screamed in surprise.
She barely caught herself, her hand flying to her chest to quell her rapid heartbeat. Her eyes hungrily took in the figure before her. It was a male body, naked from the waist up. The muscle structure and anatomy were the only things that appeared normal. Otherwise, there were numerous scars running all along his back in every possible way, for that was the only side facing her. She was mesmerized by the different routes and paths the scars took, attempting to imagine whatever horrible thing could have caused them.
Her gaze followed these lines farther and farther up, until it darted onto the half of the mirror that was uncovered. There, in the reflection, she saw half of a face that appeared as normal as anyone's. But, the other half…
She gasped aloud. The candlestick dropped to the floor as her hands rushed to cover her mouth. It was too late, though. The damage had been done. Dark, dangerous eyes shifted to her small reflection in the mirror. Then the figure whirled around angrily. But, she was already out of the doorway by then. Quickly, her feet carried her back down the small corridor and out into the main chamber.
"Christine!" She heard Erik call after her, but she didn't stop.
When she had first entered she had had her candle with her. It had shown her the way through the obstacles of sofas and chairs and pianos. With her light extinguished and laying uselessly on the floor of the hallway, the darkness consumed her. She began to panic, her breath coming in rapid succession. She didn't know where to turn. She didn't know where to go. She felt like she was suffocating.
Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed her arm and pulled her in one direction. She had no choice except to submit. She allowed herself to be dragged back down that short hallway and to the room at the very end.
She was thrown inside and ended up huddling near the bed. Meanwhile, her rescuer or kidnapper, she didn't know which to refer to him as in that moment, snatched her useless candlestick off of the floor and strode toward the wardrobe, which had been hidden from her initial prying eyes by the very door she had hidden behind. She watched him nervous eyes as he stabbed his arms through one hole then the other of a black robe and tie it firmly about him.
When he turned back around to face her, she could see that the white mask was securely in place again. "Christine, what have you done?" he asked in a rather pathetic tone.
She was still in a state of shock and almost didn't realize that she had the ability to speak. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She had to force the words with breaths of air. "I-You…" she stammered. "You were gone all day. I-I didn't know where you went."
His grip tightened on the candlestick, and she was fearful for a moment that perhaps he might bludgeon her to death with it. After all, it wasn't as though she had anyone who would care what became of her. And, she had disturbed him. She may have even committed the biggest crime one could within the walls of the chateau.
"You shouldn't have come here," Erik hissed angrily, turning away again. He threw the candlestick onto the vanity, which hit and violently disrupted the music box. The unsteady motion caused the drapery over the mirror to finish its descent. He leaned on its surface, as if catching himself. "I suppose your curiosity got the better of you, yes?"
She didn't answer. She was much too frightened and confused.
Still he continued on, a slight laugh in his voice. "Even Pandora would find herself impressed."
As her silence finally hit him, his gaze traveled over the mirror and onto her reflection. She appeared so innocent and delicate. She cowered next to the bed, pressed up against the silk sheets. He could see that she continued to stare at him, despite his temper. Or perhaps it was because of it. After all, once one really thought it through, they were still fairly strangers to one another. She couldn't say what his next move would be. Honestly, neither could he.
When next he spoke, his voice was softer and much more serious. His tone even sounded somewhat regretful. He stared at her reflection in the glass, quite sure that she was aware of his eyes upon her. "Oh, Christine, you have no idea what you have done, do you?"
Christine shook her head. In that moment she appeared young and naïve. He turned around to face her, releasing a frustrated sigh. It only took four strides to reach her. He couldn't believe just how small and fragile she appeared. He resisted the urge to scoop her up in his arms and comfortingly stroke her hair. The rage bubbling inside of him helped to drown out any feelings of sympathy or affection.
Erik stretched out a hand toward her, offering assistance in getting her to her feet. For a second, Christine looked confused and unsure. She looked nervously at his outstretched hand, as if he were tricking her with the gesture. But, she forced her hand outward, shaking as it went, and slid it gently into his.
He lifted her to her feet in one swift, easy motion, as if she was a doll. The suddenness of the movement and the proximity to Erik once she was on her feet seemed to startle her. A gasp stuck in her throat, and her body stiffened. She was terrified. That much was apparent. The only thing that was still uncertain was whether it was fear over his violent temper or over what she had just seen.
Erik leaned in even closer to her. Bitingly, he whispered, "Get out."
It took her a couple of seconds for her to comprehend what he had said and what he wanted of her, but as soon as she did, she withdrew her hand. She loitered for a moment more, searching his face for some sort of reassurance. It never came. Instead, his expression remained as blank as the mask on the opposite side of his face. His eyes remained cold and hard and determined.
Christine backed out of the bedroom, leaving behind her candlestick. She fought her way through the darkness. It took much longer to return to her sleeping quarters than it had been to reach Erik's private chambers. But, she somehow managed to do so without too much thought. Her mind had remained blank, still in complete shock, until she reached her bed. Only then did it reflect on what she had just witnessed.
She had been wrong, completely wrong, in venturing to his chambers that evening. What she had discovered had been most unexpected. It was difficult even after the fact to fully describe or comprehend what she had seen. She certainly understood why he chose to wear the mask, or why he had to wear the mask. She couldn't blame him anymore. It sent her heart racing even at that moment to think back on the deformed sight.
She hadn't realized what she had done—not in that moment. But now, she believed she might see what he had been talking about. She had revealed the true face of the person she had named as an angel. She had stripped away that façade by simply being there to see what lay beneath. Christine realized that Erik was afraid, too. He was frightened that she and that their relationship was forever changed now that the truth had been revealed.
He had wanted to keep her safe, and she had ruined that.
