Erik was enjoying himself immensely. The impatient tapping of Madame Giry's foot against the rock floor was repetitive, yes, but it was wonderful to have the smug satisfaction of knowing that she could do nothing to halt the plans he had set in motion. Everything was going smoothly, and there was nothing for her to lecture him about.
When it became clear that the woman was going to do little more than glare, Erik finally spoke.
"I believe the words you are searching for, Giry, are: goodness Erik, how right you were, I was entirely mistaken."
When Madame Giry replied, her voice was like ice. "This is no game, Erik."
He leant back where he sat, the look in his eyes turning calculating while his smile still held mischief. "And yet I'm rather enjoying playing."
"These are real people and they do not take kindly to being manipulated." Her voice was tight, eyes burning and jaw clenched.
Erik had rarely seen her so angry, and yet he was completely calm. He was so close to achieving was he had been planning for so long, he was unstoppable, and she held no power over him. She was no longer his sole companion, and he had no more need to pass notes to the managers.
She could do nothing to restrain him now.
"Why, do you not enjoy seeing those arrogant fops tripping over each other trying to save themselves?"
Madame Giry glared out across the water and muttered something. Erik cocked his head, his grin widening.
"What was that, Giry?"
"I said childish." She turned her head back to him and fixed him with her steely glare.
The grin slid a little from his face. He was formulating a comeback, but she rounded fully on him and continued before he could say a word.
"You think that people are your chess pieces to play with as you like; you pay no regard to their feelings or their wellbeing. Do you know how many dreams you have stepped on in your years here, how many injured people you have left in your wake? Even discounting those you've physically injured."
Erik found his tongue again. "I don't recall you stopping me, Giry, and it's not as if I've done no good in this Opera House. My actions may garner your disapproval, but is this company not successful? And do we not have the best Prima Donna for years?"
"Your actions concerning Miss Bistelle are hardly a case in your favour." she snapped.
"I have never harmed a hair on her head." he retorted, his hands curling. "And as for those I have hindered unintentionally, their lives are hardly much worse off for not being able to prance around on this stage. It is regrettable but there are casualties in every war."
"This is not a war! This is a vendetta!" Her fury had begun cold but now it was blazing hot. "You have a chip on your shoulder and you have manipulated yourself into a position of power where you have abused that control on every innocent who stands in your way!"
Erik gave a mirthless laugh. "Innocent? Maybe a few, but don't be so naïve Giry; the people out there have a lot of blood on their hands."
"More than you?" Her lip curled.
"They shut me out of their world!" he snarled back, rising to his feet. "I have been banished to the shadows because of society's snobbery and idealistic blindness! Because I am not a perfect piece of the puzzle I have been banned from playing a part at all! I was hounded out!"
She scoffed. "You did that to yourself, you fool - is Miss Bistelle not proof enough that you can be accepted, even if only by a few?"
"One in thousands is hardly enough persuasion to open myself up to that persecution again." he replied darkly.
"And so your are willing to sacrifice her life as well simply because you gave up yours?"
"I'm not making her sacrifice anything."
"No? Have you not seen the stress she has been under lately? She's just lost her mother for God's sake, and now she's running around the Opera House at all hours trying to appease you, on top of rehearsing an entire opera she doesn't want to do, defending you from the managers -"
"I don't need protection!"
"Then you obviously don't know as much about life in this place as you claim. She has been running herself ragged keeping them from searching for you, explaining away events you obviously caused, and trying to abate their anger towards you and reign back their desire for revenge! And as well as all that she is still struggling to keep her relationship with you a secret from the rest of the cast, including her friends, which is obviously breaking her heart!" Madame Giry drew a sharp breath then continued in a quieter voice that nonetheless shook with anger. "Do you even care about her wellbeing?"
"Of course I care about her!" Erik exploded. "I was the one that looked after her while she grieved! I am doing all of this for her!"
"Oh, please!" she snapped derisively. "This is all for you! This is all part of your power complex and you were planning it long before you discovered Miss Bistelle."
He glared at her. "I love her." he said firmly, his voice low.
"Oh yes?" She raised an eyebrow in return. "And what sort of future will you two have together? At what point do you think she'll realise just how much you've lied to her?"
"Don't you dare." he spat.
"Have you told her what you're planning?" Madame Giry continued, ignoring his words.
"I'm not planning anything."
She scoffed once more. "I've known you for long enough, boy, to tell when you're plotting something. This is more than just an opera."
Erik clenched his jaw, not answering. Her eyebrow arched and she continued.
"And have you told her about Persia, about what you've done?"
He raised his dark glare to her eyes. "If you try and turn her from me -"
"What will you do?" she retorted coldly, her gaze undaunted. "Kill me?"
"I'd watch my tone if I were you." he growled.
"You forget, Erik, you can't intimidate me like you do others."
He looked away. When he spoke again his voice was quiet though still tight. "She's all I have."
Madame Giry threw her hands up in exasperation. "Ungrateful boy!"
When he stared at her, stunned for a moment by confusion, she snapped, "I have always been here! From the very beginning! For years I have watched over you, sheltered you! And yet you still believe that nobody cares for you."
Silence rang around the pair, both glaring and tense in their anger.
Footsteps suddenly broke through the darkness, and Celeste stepped out onto the rock. Her expression turned to shock when she saw Madame Giry, and her eyes widened further at the tangible animosity between the two of them.
Erik acknowledged her arrival by slightly turning his head towards her, but he didn't break his glare at the ballet mistress.
"I think it's time for you to go, Giry." he said stiffly.
She pinned him with her eyes for a moment longer. "On your head be it." she said darkly, then turned on her heel and walked away, only pausing beside Celeste to murmur, "Take care of yourself, my dear."
Celeste watched her go in surprise, then moved over to Erik. "What was that about?" she asked, frowning.
Erik hesitated, letting out a breath and releasing his anger into the air. "She's just fretting, don't worry about her."
"Alright." She didn't look convinced, but she didn't press the matter, instead stepping up to the piano and laying out the music she held under her arm.
Erik watched her, thinking over what Giry had said about the stress she was under. Now that he consciously considered it, he noticed the tension in her shoulders and the shadows beneath her eyes, which he had come to accept as normal but worried him now that he had noticed.
"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, guilt niggling inside him.
She smiled a little wearily. "You don't need to ask me that. Everyone keeps asking." Which was sweet, she knew, but was becoming a little monotonous.
"But are you?"
Her gaze lifted to his, and her lips twitched again as she remembered what Christine had told her. "I'm managing." she said. "And if I'm not fine at the moment, I will be."
He still eyed her with a certain amount of worry, but she brushed off his concern.
"Shall we practice, then?"
Erik hesitated but nodded and sat down behind the piano again. "How about your first duet with Don Juan?" he suggested, though he didn't want to admit - even to himself - his inclination for that particular scene, not after his conversation with Madame Giry.
Celeste nodded, completely unsuspecting, and flicked through the pages to The Point Of No Return.
He played a few chords as introduction, and when she began to sing her shoulders relaxed and her chin raised, her eyes lighting up a little.
Erik listened delightedly as she sang, making the music sound exactly as he had wished it would. This was going to be perfect.
He remained silent and simply played the underlying music during the dialogue, but at Don Juan's next line he began to sing.
His voice was less booming than Piangi's, and had greater depth, but the imitation was still remarkably convincing.
Celeste laughed and glanced up from her score. "That's scarily good."
"I've been practicing." Erik replied, grinning, and continued to play, singing until she came in again. He revelled in her voice, in the way their melodies blended together.
Anticipation began to coarse through his body, the earlier reprimands and warnings of Madame Giry fleeing his mind for a while as he focused on the long-standing plans that would soon be a reality.
Everything was coming together, and nothing was going to stand in the way of him finally getting what he wanted.