"Dearest, I remember, do you?"
Virginia Woolf
The blasted Persian had arrived at Erik's home earlier than he'd anticipated, but in reality he should have. He was being pesky and annoying, asking questions Erik hardly had the answer to, though it was nothing the Daroga was not already prone to do elsewise.
His white mask was still jarring whenever he glanced into the mirror, especially considering Rene had been the one who helped him come up with it. Seeing Rene that evening… and seeing her child would be even more jarring than the porcelain over his face.
Nadir sighed as Erik straightened his cravat for the fifth time.
"You look perfectly put together, as usual, Erik, there is no need to further your appearance."
"Well, would you say that if you were to see the only two women you have ever loved?"
"I suppose I would not know what to say, for I have only ever loved one."
Erik scoffed, "Maybe spiritually."
"Let us go, we are already fashionably late."
Rolling his eyes, but deeming that his appearance would be well enough for the upcoming events, Erik left it alone.
He and Nadir did not take long to travel up, their carriage waiting for them outside the opera house without delay. And soon, they arrived at the de Chagny manor, ready to take on the world inside.
While he had been traversing in that world for a few months now, there was no telling what being in a group of only these types of people might induce. For the first time in a very long time, Erik was beyond nervous.
And it wasn't even the one woman's doing, it was Rene's husband, for no one there would bring up the old feeling of wanting to murder besides the man who held his wife on a leash of bruises. Erik just prayed he got a clean report from the mother that he wasn't being awful to her. Or else… well, he couldn't think like that. There were people who depended on him, and throwing him to the noose would only put an entire opera out of work for a very long time.
"Ready, old friend?"
"As I shall ever be."
They walked up to the guards and handed them the invitation, though they'd parted before even seeing the note. Erik knew he wasn't too hard to recognize. Forging ahead, his and the Persian's coat were checked, and suddenly they were inside. It had been months… probably a year since Erik had seen this place so close, and it was not as he recalled it. It had been livened by the younger Comte's hand, and he figured some of his old soprano's touch as well.
They were inside, and Erik was face to face with his pupil for the first time since the incident.
She recognized him without a doubt, her countenance easy and strident, but the Comte's was not so much so. His arm tightened his grip on his wife, bringing her closer.
To say it might hurt him was surprisingly false.
Erik really was there for one human being alone, and the smaller one probably encased within her arms. He couldn't spot her just yet, but he knew she had to be somewhere.
"Monsieur le Comte, Madame," Erik said, bowing at the waist and not daring to spare a cordial move.
He offered his hand, and with eyes all around them, it seemed the Comte had little trouble grasping the gloved hand in return. The entire thing was overwhelming for him, but the façade that he was fine came with Nadir following right after him. Then, Erik was finally faced with the woman who had tortured his dreams and waking hours.
"Madame de Chagny," he greeted her again, reaching for her hand hesitantly, and attempted to quell his tremors.
"Erik."
She did not even think twice about giving him her hand, to touch him with her gloved limb, and allow him to kiss it. It had to be the gloves that was allowing it, but the whole thing was ridiculously much for him, and so he let her go quickly.
"Thank you for welcoming us into your home," the Daroga said by his side while there were awkward glances shared all around.
"Anything for my sister. We have been waiting quite a while for her to have a child," Raoul said with a tight smile.
"Yes, we are so pleased for Rene, and also thrilled you both were able to attend. The two of you are not seen at these functions often."
Erik looked at the Madame de Chagny and then to his partner for some type of assistance on their more often than not absence.
"Well, our affairs are our own, and the sordid rumors of us only ever appearing with one-another would tire very quickly," Nadir said. He gave off an encouraging laugh, and Erik let him charm the couple.
"Where could we find the proud parents?"
Erik had no time for pleasantries, and other lingering guests were arriving, so he wished to get out of the way as soon as possible.
"Over by the staircase to the East Wing."
A gentle, gloved finger pointed over her shoulder, and with a polite nod, he moved on from the happy couple that was the Comte and Comtesse de Chagny.
The Daroga followed suit behind him, nodding to a few prominent names and faces they recognized from the opera, but not daring to linger as Erik darted through the crowd. It wasn't that he didn't mind talking to the upper levels of society, but he was there with a purpose. Well… he actually wasn't but since arriving, seeing Rene was all he could even think about. Soon they would return with their offspring and head back to Calais, and the idea of never seeing her again terrified him.
While it wasn't the first time Erik had ever laid eyes on François de Renaud, it was the first time he'd seen the man so physically close to his wife. Rene was tucked under his arm, nodding along to people as they spoke to her, though she looked rather tired, with a bit more weight clinging to her features than even he last recalled when she was many months pregnant. But to hell with him if he didn't still think her the most beautiful woman in the room.
It was not terribly hard to approach her, though the Monsieur was not exactly paying enough attention to even see the mask Erik wore.
Rene's eyes locked on his. Green widening with great relief. His presence had never been cause for relief before, but Erik decided he quite liked the look. For it meant she truly did want him in her life, even if they could never facilitate it with her husband looming and alive. A revelation Erik had still quite not gotten over.
"Monsieur," Rene sighed, though all she offered was a short bow.
"Madame de Renaud, Monsieur, congratulations to you both on the birth of your child."
"Thank you, Monsieur Portmanteau," François said with a grin. "A son."
There was no greater pride in a man who had trouble impregnating his wife than getting a son on the first birth, and Erik could see the slimy appreciation. He hated him, his equally curly hair like his brother-in-law, and the slightly overweight build. The deceased Comte truly had done his sister wrong.
"A boy," Rene added, then greeted Nadir quickly, getting back to her preferred topic of discussion, "His name is Jules Erik de Renaud."
There were a million names they could have come up with, and of course his own retched one was included into the mix. Rene obviously seemed quite pleased with herself, as François saw absolutely no correlation between Erik's own name and his child's. A boy… a boy named after him no less.
The very idea chilled Erik to his core.
"What a strong name," the Daroga said, but it sounded far away and distant from what was happening.
"Oh, François, would you mind terribly if I showed Monsieur Portmanteau our boy? He will be wanting to see the face that shares part of his name," Rene begged her husband.
It was a horribly undignified tone of voice she was using, something that Erik might have gently scorned her for and told her was never necessary to use on him. Alas, that was not his place nor would it ever be. They'd been together for years, as opposed to the hours that he had held with her.
"Yes, if he isn't bored with such a prospect," the man said as though knowing Erik should be.
"It sounds delightful," he challenged, but François seemed not the least bit concerned, turning on Nadir instead.
"The Monsieur Khan and I shall talk business then, I have a few suggestions for the opera, if I do say so myself."
Erik went to say something, but Rene had grabbed his hand and tugged him towards her, releasing it without anyone seeing.
Nadir looked quite uncomfortable, and the idea amused Erik, so he let François steal his business partner so he might steal his wife.
They made quickly up the stairs, and while there were people everywhere in the manor, the hall near the child seemed luckily empty.
"Come on," Rene said, and pushed the door open with her hip, glancing over her shoulder like she wasn't teasing him for dear life.
The whole thing was probably very taboo, but Erik truly had no reputation to lose anyways, and there was no repairs the Chagny's could not make to their reputation besides something truly heinous.
She nearly bounded over to her little bundle of blankets and limbs, but Erik had no such haste about him. Why would he want to see a child made between a man he hated and a woman he loved, somehow named after him.
"You're dismissed," Rene said to the nursemaid in the corner. The woman nodded quickly without question and only eyed Erik a tiny bit before scuttling away.
The crazy woman began to coo and say ridiculous things to the bassinet her child was in while he remained a healthy distance away. Part of him was horrified and shaking while he looked at the contents of the room, quite basic and white. There were a few items here or there in blues, but nothing ridiculous or out of order. They were quite obviously not staying.
Finally, the child was in her arms. He was looking at a mother now, not just the alcoholic who'd somehow defied all the odds and landed upon his doorstep in the dungeons. Dungeons which were never quite the same after she left.
A thought ran through his head, Erik had an unholy amount of money already, it wasn't likely for him to stop earning either, so he could potentially move to somewhere more suitable. Yet the opera would always be his home, just like he supposed this manor would always be Rene's. And so the memories would continue to stain his life.
God… he'd fallen for Comte de Chagny's sister.
Erik shook at the shiver down his spine, but then he was approached by Rene holding her little, flailing human. And he was perfect. There was no question he might not be, for the man and woman he came from were so.
"He is a very handsome boy, Rene."
"Thank you, Erik."
"He has so many of your features," he said honestly, feeling quite taken by the sight of a child in her arms. No part of him had ever yearned for such thing because he knew he was not capable, yet it was a sight that did something to his insides. Probably making him sick.
"Does he?" She wondered, looking down at her own son.
"Yes… the brows, the nose, and your very distinct, sharp chin. Your husband is a bit more rounded out in all of these aspects."
"François once was an attractive man… not that that sort of things matters to me, but it helped at first. Now, well, it is obvious he's grown from that. Would you like to hold Jules?"
The offer was enough to push Erik back, his head denying her offer faster than even his own mouth.
"No, thank you, you don't want me to be the cause of your little one's end."
"Why would you think that?" She asked, approaching him again and shifting the child so as he could not debate.
And now Erik was between a wall and mother. He acquiesced, and she gently passed her child into his arms, the feeling of a being so small and so warm foreign to him. It was… terrible and wonderful all at once. So he stood, holding the child for a few blissful moments while Rene stood and watched him with a smile. It was an odd sort of smile, but he wasn't paying too much attention to it as he watched this tiny life continue to rest peacefully in his arms.
"Erik, I'm going to tell you this while you're holding my son because I just want you to listen to me. Understood?" She waited for his brief approval, though his consent wasn't exactly in the right state of mind.
"I want to leave François, and I know exactly how we are going to do it."