Author's note: Sorry everyone, college has been getting in the way. Hopefully over break I'll have more time to myself.
Elvish Terms:
Aranel- Quenya for Princess
Tindómirë-Quenya for Jewel of Twiliight
Silestelmirë-Quenya for Jewel of Shining Hope
Aran-Quenya for King
Tari-Quenya for Queen
Elen síla lúmenn' omentielmo-Quenya for "a star shines upon the hours of our meeting"
Ada-Quenya for Father
Pairings: E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC. Hints of AU.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my original characters. PoTO belongs to Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay, and Andrew Lloyd Webber. LoTR belongs to JRR Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, etc. Van Helsing belongs to Stephen Sommers.
Summary: When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?
Chapter Twenty One: The Phantom and The Princess
It was the day before the Council was to meet, and Erik was pacing like a caged panther in the elvish garden. Idril was gazing off into the distance, contemplating something, for her eyes were very far away. Breaking out of her reverie, the Princess walked over and put a soothing hand on his shoulder. "We have a good chance, you know." She said gently, looking into his eyes. He turned towards her and clasped her hand. "Of course I know, but it isn't your life that hangs in the balance." Erik responded. "No, of course not, but there would be severe repercussions from the Vatican if we fail." Idril said. "But we will not fail." She said, standing next to him. "I hope the blood of your distant ancestress Lúthien protects us as it did Aragorn Elessar." Erik mumbled. The Edain Princess smiled. "We find out at noon tomorrow" she replied, resting her head against his shoulder. They stood like that for a long time, just drinking up the tranquility in the air.
But they could not stop Father Time. Before either of them knew it, it was the next morning. Idril woke early and after eating breakfast, went to dress. After much discussion with her mother, they both decided that the replica of one of Queen Arwen's gowns was best. The gown was beautiful-made of a white silk that flowed like water. It was covered in clear glass beads that caught the light and gave off a soft glow. 'The Angel gown...perfect'. Idril thought with a small smile. She wanted it to be clear that she was a Daughter of both Elves and Men, a direct descendant to the Evenstar herself.
Along with the "Angel" gown, Idril wore her green elvish pendant. Like Arwen before her, all the females of Elessar's line had a necklace crafted for them in the elven style on their sixteenth birthday. They were to wear it always, until they found the man they chose to marry. Then their husband to be would wear it for a year to symbolize their devotion, and would give it back to their bride on their wedding day. Idril's pendant was called the Tindómirë, or the Jewel of Twilight. Alatáriel bore the Silestelmirë, or the Jewel of Shining Hope. The emerald set into the middle of Idril's necklace was a reminder of the Elessar, the stone that had given Aragorn his throne name. She belted Hadhafang, to reiterate that she was of Arwen's line. Gabriel wore his full kingly armor, and Alatáriel wore a long purple dress and the crown of Elendil. Belted around her waist was Andúril, the Sword of the Kings.
They met Erik, who was elegantly dressed in black and wore his white porcelain mask and was standing next to Valamir. Together, the four of them took the carriage to Gwydion's estate, where council would be held. Erik blinked when he saw Idril:the light of the Evenstar was evident in her eyes. He marveled at the hidden royal blood now reveled: an ancient light seemed to surround Elessar's kin, but an ancient wisdom was there as well. Idril surreptitiously took his hand and squeezed it to reassure him.
It was time. Valamir, Idril and Erik stepped out of the carriage, heads held high. Behind them the Aran and Tari of the Rangers followed, and they walked into Gwydion's mansion. The entrance was packed with carriages, and some of the council members were milling about outside. Erik could feel their eyes upon him, but he kept his expression neutral.
The five of them were greeted by Gwydion, who showed them into a waiting room adjacent to the ballroom which had been turned into a meeting hall for today. Valamir stood guard, watching the Dúnedain as they filtered into the massive room.
Once all the Council members had been seated, it was time for the Telcontars to sit at the High Seat. Slowly, majestically, they made their way to the platform. A few minutes later, Valamir walked in front of Erik, and led him to a seat next to the Telcontar's.
The ancestral leaders descended from Rohan, Dol Amroth, Gondor and Ithilien stood up and said as one: "You have called a council to decided the fate of Erik Kavanagh, Phantom of the Opera. We the people ask why he should be let free." Idril stood up, proud and strong, the daughter of kings. Taking her deep breath, she began her tale, explaining why she felt Erik should be pardoned.
Afterward, Gabriel and Alatáriel stated their reasons, with Gabriel describing what he had seen in Erik's aura. The council muttered to themselves and the court seemed to hold their breath. Finally, it was Erik's turn to speak for himself.
"I do not hide from what I have done. Yes, I have killed, extortioned, and wreaked havoc. I was a paid assassin in Persia, the Shah's own personal Angel of Death. From a young age, any hope I had for a normal life was destroyed by my mother's treatment of me due to this," Here Erik gestured to the mask that covered part of his face. "-a deformity that I had been born with. I had run away at the age of nine and been captured by a traveling gypsy band. They displayed me as part of their freakshow attraction, 'the Living Corpse'. But I do not tell you these things out of a desire to gain sympathy or pity. I am a proud man, and I despise both of those emotions. I tell you this only so you can see both sides of me and judge accordingly." the former Phantom paused to take a breath.
"If all goes well and I am allowed to go free, I will keep your secrets. All I ask is a chance to live my life in peace, with my music, art, and architecture. It is all I want-I am ready to relinquish my former life underneath the Opera House." Erik finished, and sat back down.
The Council was quiet. Then a storm of whisperings broke the silence. The Telcontars and Erik sat, waiting for the Council members to stop arguing. Then Earrine, the representative of Dol Amroth and mother of Gwydion stood up and smiled. "Since the Fall of Arda, the Telcontar family has ruled the Rangers. Lúthien's line has not failed us then, and I see no reason why it will not fail us now. Gabriel is a Maia and has ruled well as the Aran. Alatáriel is of the Elessar's kin, and has never failed us yet as the Tari. Although Idril is young and untested, her instincts were good. It was something Aragorn Elessar would have done, Aranel." Earrine said to her Princess.
"Therefore, we have voted to allow Erik Kavanaugh, former Phantom of the Opera, the protection of the Dúnedain Rangers. My Lady, we will vouch for him in front of the Holy Order and the Pope himself." Earrine continued. Erik's eyes bugged out. He couldn't believe it. They were letting him off? They were honestly letting him go free? Was he that convincing? Why on Earth would the Rangers let him go?
Idril turned to him, eyes dancing. "We did it! We actually did it!" she whispered happily. Erik blinked a few times, still trying to get over the shock. "Unbelievable. I...we did, didn't we?" he responded, a full smile finally gracing his face. "And you doubted us." Idril teased gently and gave him a congratulatory hug. He laughed and hugged her back. "Thank you." Erik whispered, meaning it. She tilted her head. "You're welcome, but it's not smooth sailing just yet. Now we have to convince the Pope". Idril reminded him, suddenly serious. "I know." He responded. "No fears, if we can do this, we'll be able to win the war." The Princess reassured him brightly. "Spoken like a true warrior!" Erik smirked.
They mingled with the other Rangers, the rest of Idril's family congratulating them. Erik got to meet the rest of the Council of Elders, including Earrine. Gwydion's mother had dark curly hair, pale skin and warm brown eyes.
"Thank you." He said quietly and sincerely. The Lady of Dol Amroth gave a gentle smile. "Your welcome." She responded before turning to Idril. "You are going to be a fine leader, Aranel. You will not fail us when the time comes to take your place as the Lady of the Dúnedain. Also, you did the right thing." Earrine said proudly. Idril gave a full-out bright grin, happy that her people were proud of her. Now all they had to do was clear Erik's name before the Vatican, and she knew from her father that it was going to be easier said then done. After Cardinal Jinette had passed on, the new Cardinal was much more strict in his rulings. He would want to condemn Erik right away. Idril walked away to the window, already lost in thought.
As she did so, an aged crone approached Erik. "I need to talk to you." Menelwen gestured imperiously to the Phantom. Raising an eyebrow, he followed her to a quiet corner. "My name is Menelwen, one of the Seers of the Dúnedain and mother of Lady Earrine's husband. You and the Princess Idril have been having dreams about one another, am I correct?" she asked. Erik stared. "Yes." he said slowly. "Of course, you want to know why. Listen closely Erik Kavanagh, Phantom of the Opera. You have a bond with the Princess, a very strong one." the elderly woman stated.
"Yes...and? It doesn't explain why we had been dreaming of one another before we had even met!" the masked man said scornfully. "Don't be impudent with me, boy! The bond between you two is rare-think of what most silly, empty-headed young girls would call 'soul mates'. It's not quite that, because it doesn't have to be romantic. Indeed, it's most often platonic then romantic. The Fellowship of the Ring had such a bond." Menelwen explained.
Erik stood stock-still. "And the bond between Idril and myself? How did that come about?" he asked softly. The crone Seeress shrugged. "The answer is hidden in mists. Only the phantom and the princess will be able to discern the truth." She said cryptically. He was about to make an angry retort, but then the woman in question walked over to them.
"Elen síla lúmenn' omentielmo, Menelwen!" Idril curtsied to the elderly lady as she gave the standard form of greeting. "Elen síla lúmenn' omentielmo, Aranel Idril!" Menelwen greeted the younger woman in Quenya. "Your friend Erik is a good man. I pray to the Valar that you win against the Holy Order." She said before moving on back into the shadows. Idril's brow furrowed. "What was that all about?" she asked, thoroughly puzzled. Erik's eyes were distant and pensive. "That Seeress of yours thinks we have some sort of bond. Similar to the Fellowship and that's why we were in each other's dreams." He said.
Idril looked up sharply. "Really? Did she know why the bond started in the first place?" she asked. He shook his head. "Hmm..Ada might now. I'll ask him tomorrow morning. I need to speak to my cousin before we leave, but just remember to meet by the carriage in one hour." Idril said gently and leaned forward to give him a soft kiss on his cheek. Erik twisted his head in surprise as his lips met her own for one long moment. Then they broke apart as if hit by lightning. Idril's heart was pounding, feeling like she had just fought off an extremely powerful sorcerer. She noticed that Erik was trembling, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. "I should go." He said coldly and retreated into the crowd.
Idril stared after him, her hand touching her lips in shock. Her emotions were comparable to that of a raging storm as she made her way over to a bench to sit down. "Are you ok, my Princess?" Valamir asked, seeing her white face. She looked up, distracted. "What? Oh yes. I'm fine...I just...I just need some air." She explained before bolting towards the garden.
Once there, Idril sat pensive on her favorite bench, trying to sort out her jumbled emotions. That kiss...it was like an electric shock through her body. It both scared her and invigorated her. Why had she kissed him? Had her cousin seen what had haunted her unconscious for so long? And he had fled from her. 'Of course he ran...look at what he's had to deal with!' Idril's mind reminded her. Now what was she going to do? She didn't want things to become awkward between them.
She began to pace, trying to clear her mind. It wasn't working. With a sigh, she fell onto the grass, trying to calm her thoughts. Looking up at the sky, slowly she started to relax and her mind cleared. Common sense took over, and Idril resolved to talk to Erik when he was ready. She dusted herself off and made her way back feeling a little less tempestuous and hoping that things would work itself out.