The Angel Descends
With a soft creak, the door to the Paris Opera house opened a tiny bit. Angelique peeped inside and looked around. The place looked deserted, and she wondered if someone was playing tricks on her.
"Hello? Is anyone here?" As her voice echoed through the empty auditorium, she took a few more steps inside. The door closed loudly behind her, and she moved into the darkened theatre. "Hello?"
All of a sudden, the long row of footlights along the stage lit up, casting a soft light onto the huge proscenium. With a soft sigh of awe, Angelique pulled the hood away from her face. It was beautiful. But the stage was empty, and Angelique was getting more and more confused. Something told her she should go up to Box Five, and she started up the staircase that led to the box seats.
When she made it to Box Five, however, there was no one there. Perplexed,
Angelique moved to the front of the box so that she could look out over the entire theatre. Feeling a bit like a fool, she sighed. Apparently this was someone's idea of a joke, and she couldn't believe she had fallen for it. Unbidden, she could feel hot tears welling up in her eyes. Angelique pressed a hand to her eyes, trying to keep them from spilling over onto her cheeks. She hadn't really cried since her parents had died, and she didn't have any intention of starting again.
"Angelique?"
The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, and she lifted her head up. Swiping at her eyes to get rid of the tears, she looked around the box, searching for the owner of the voice. No one was there, and for a moment she thought she had been imagining things.
"Is someone there?" There was a long silence, and a chill ran up Angelique's spine as she looked behind her. "Hello?"
"I thought you weren't coming." Now it seemed as if the voice was right beside her, and Angelique found her voice again.
"No, I…who are you?" Her eyes continued to roam over walls of the box as she crossed her arms over her chest nervously.
"The one who found your music. I brought you here tonight to ask if there were other pieces that you had penned. If so, I would be most interested in hearing more of them." Listening to this voice, she knew at once it that belonged to a man. From the quality of it, she suspected that this man was also a singer.
"Of course. But I didn't bring them with me…where are you?" It was so confusing, the way the man's voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. "It would be so much easier to talk to you if I could see you."
"Forgive me, my dear Mademoiselle, but that is an impossibility. Surely you are able to remember some of that beautiful music?"
"Yes, of course I do. But I don't…"
"There is a piano on the stage." Almost as soon as he had said the words, Angelique felt compelled to go to the piano. "Why don't you try to play a little?"
"Piano? No, I really don't know how to…" Much to her surprise, Angelique found herself standing before the piano. "…play…" From somewhere in her mind, Angelique could hear a voice. She couldn't remember where she'd heard it before, but she sat down on the wooden bench and lifted the cover of the piano. "The white keys are the major scale, and the black ones are the sharps and flats," she murmured softly, repeating the lesson she had heard once before. But she couldn't remember where she had heard these words, and she gently set her fingers uncertainly on the keys.
"I'm sure it will be beautiful," the voice reassured her. It was as if the owner of the voice was standing just over her shoulder, but Angelique was more concerned with thinking of a piece to play.
"This may not sound right," she said softly. "It's called 'Although I Can't See You.' Rather appropriate for tonight, don't you think?" This earned a laugh from her unseen audience, and she bit her lip as she hoped she wouldn't make too big a fool of herself. She had never, to her knowledge, played a piano.
Stretching her fingers for a moment, she allowed the music to play through her mind for a moment before she actually began touching the keys. The moment she depressed the first key, she knew it was a mistake. Angelique wanted to cry as she heard the beautiful melodies that played in her mind's eye reduced to an off-key jumble of notes, and she shook her head as her fingers slid from the keys.
"I'm sorry…" Looking down into her lap, her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Now she was glad that she couldn't see him. She could just imagine the look on his face, and she was sure she could hear him wondering why he had ever wanted to hear her music again. "I…I think I ruined it. Really, it wasn't supposed to sound like that."
"Why don't you try again?" His voice was warm, trying to coax her into playing again. Angelique fidgeted, still staring into the lap of her dress. "Just once more?"
"But it sounded so terrible…" Her voice was no more than a whisper, and to her eyes the piano looked more like some Medieval instrument of torture than anything that one would play music on. But at the urging of the voice, she placed her hands upon the keys again. Once more, her inability to comprehend the layout of the keys seemed to turn her beautiful music into a travesty, but the voice urged her on.
Miraculously, the notes began to make sense. Angelique didn't know how, but all of a sudden the keys seemed to be in the right places. Her fingers trembled as they fell over the keys, but the music was perfect. Once the piece had ended, she exhaled heavily. The voice laughed.
"Don't tell me you were holding your breath all that time, my dear!"
"I can't believe that really happened," Angelique said breathlessly, unable to pull her hands away from the keys. "I've never played the piano before…"
"Nevertheless, it was beautiful. It is as if your music comes straight from your soul, Mademoiselle." There was such admiration in the voice that Angelique wasn't sure he was talking to her.
"Thank you…I wrote it for my parents the year I turned twenty. I'm glad you liked it, Monsieur." Standing up, she moved to close the piano cover.
"Would you favor me with another selection?"
"Of course, Monsieur!" Beaming, Angelique sat back down and began to play a second, faster piece. This time her hands were nearly flying across the keyboard, and when she finished this time, her unseen admirer burst into applause.
"Magnificent!"
"Shall I play you another?" Getting into the spirit of the moment, Angelique smiled brightly over her shoulder for a moment before she remembered that there was no one there. Still smiling, she began another piece.
Somewhere within the sweeping chords and melodies of her playing, time lost all meaning. Although somewhere in the back of her mind, Angelique was sure that she was going to regret this the next day, she continued to play.
* * *
Once she had finally gone, Erik felt completely winded. He knew for sure now that it was her, but he didn't know what he was going to do about it. The sun had come up, so he had gone back into the darkness which was his home.
It hadn't occurred to him that her parents had died, although he should have known from the extent of her poverty. The family whom he had left her with had not been rich, but they weren't poor either.
The songs she had played for him were still in his head, and he hung his tuxedo jacket up so that it wouldn't get wrinkled. As he did so, he couldn't help thinking about her. Despite the lovely dress she had been wearing, she still looked so thin. It was as if the dress was simply draped over her like a coat on a hanger, and he wondered if she would accept some more money from him.
And of course she wanted to see him. That much was inevitable, but this time he wondered whether or not he should reveal himself to her. When she was a child, she had never been afraid of him. Even when he took off his mask, she had looked at him as if he were any other man. But after so long, would she still be able to see him as just a man?
With a sigh, he rubbed his hand over his pale forehead as he removed his mask. Placing the small bit of porcelain on the edge of a small, finely finished table, Erik looked at his watch. The sun had long since come up, and he was becoming more and more tired. His thoughts were becoming more and more muddled, and he lay down to sleep for a while. Just before he drifted off, however, a thought crossed his mind.
Perhaps…it was possible she would come again that night.
* * *
"Are you asleep over there?" Mme Lafours' angry voice broke through Angelique's dream, and she snapped her head back up.
"No, Madame! Of course I'm not asleep!" Smiling brightly, she went back to hemming the dress on her table as her employer gave her a warning look, then walked into the back room. The moment she was gone, Angelique put her head back down on the pile of fluffy material. It felt as if she had been awake for several days, and yet she couldn't help smiling to herself.
As tired as she was, she had loved every minute of it. So what if she couldn't actually see her patron? Just hearing his praise made up for it, and she hadn't felt tired at all until she left the opera house.
The mystery of the piano still nibbled at the edge of her mind, but she dismissed it easily, explaining to herself that if she could think up music without any sort of proper training, she should be able to play the piano as well. After all, the piano was just the notes arranged in order. The black keys…and the white keys…sharps…flats… Her eyelids felt terribly heavy, and she wanted to go to sleep. The soft cloth beneath her cheek didn't help, and before she knew it, she was dozing off.
When Mme Lafours came back into the front of the shop, she sighed. Something was definitely wrong with that girl, but she couldn't afford to let her sleep her shift away. She picked up a measuring stick and took it over to Angelique's table, where she smacked it onto the wood a few inches from the sleeping girl's face.
Startled, Angelique jumped up. For a moment, she was confused by the loud noise, thinking perhaps it was lightning. But when she saw it was Mme Lafours standing nearby her, she had known it was much worse than lightning.
"You know, Madame, this is rather funny…"
"Work!"
"Yes Madame…" Trying very hard to stay awake, Angelique went back to her sewing. Mme Lafours stood over her shoulder for a few minutes, trying to make sure that she didn't doze off again.
Once she had gone away, Angelique kept herself from going back to sleep by thinking about the opera house, and about the voice of the man who had been so close to her, yet whom she couldn't see. She wanted to go back, if for no other reason than to simply hear his voice again. Absently snipping off the end of the thread, Angelique hoped that he would be there again that night. At least now she would have something to look forward to.
* * *
It was late, nearly midnight. Erik was beginning to doubt that she was even going to come back, and he almost laughed at himself. He didn't know what made him think that she would want to come back to this place.
Just as he was about to give up, the door to the main theatre opened with a squeak. A dark little head looked into the room, and Erik smiled as he slipped into the wall silently. This might turn out well after all.
* * *
Every night after that, she came back to the theatre. Once they had exhausted the music Angelique had written, they had moved on to the classical pieces, and eventually to the pieces Erik had penned himself. She seemed to enjoy these most, wasting no time in telling him just how much she liked the music he had written.
With each night that passed, Erik found himself anticipating her visits more and more, and Angelique found herself coming to the theatre earlier each night. Although she couldn't stop wondering about his identity, she didn't ask him any questions. The last thing she wanted was for him to stop coming to the theatre. Somehow, she managed to content herself with the sound of his voice.
When the dread Christmas finally came around, Erik was surprised to find that Angelique had left him a small present on the shelf of Box Five. He didn't actually find it for a few days afterwards, but it was obviously a Christmas present, wrapped up in festive paper.
Knowing that she didn't have much money, he was quite tempted to return it to her, but once he opened it he knew he couldn't without hurting her feelings. It wasn't anything too expensive, just a small snow globe which held a tiny replica of the Opera Populaire. She had given him a gift. But what did it mean?
* * *
Humming absentmindedly, Angelique brushed her hair before the mirror. She was wearing the dress she had just finished that day, and she turned around in front of the mirror. It had occurred to her that although she couldn't see her patron, he could probably see her, and she wanted to look nice.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about his voice. She supposed that this wasn't too odd, since the sound of his voice was the only thing she knew about him. While she was working, Angelique had found herself trying to figure out what he might look like from the sound of his voice.
Whenever he spoke, she felt so warm all over. It was always as if he was right beside her, and she was beginning to think that this was a nice feeling. Angelique smiled at herself in the mirror. She wondered if he thought she was pretty. Pushing that thought aside, she gathered the sides of her hair and made a small braid that served to keep her hair out of her face. Making sure that the rest of her hair was lying in the proper place, she grabbed her cloak and hurried out the door.
It seemed like it was always getting colder, and she blew into her hands as she hurried along the street to the opera house. It wasn't too long a walk, and she was glad it had stopped snowing for once.
Angelique was pretty sure Paris hadn't seen so much snow in a great many years, and while it was quite lovely to look at, it was a nightmare to walk through. She was a little jealous of the people who were riding past her in the carriages, but it took her a moment to realize that it was already eleven thirty. Angelique stopped in the middle of the snowy sidewalk and looked after the carriage. Another one followed it almost immediately, and she wondered why there were people out traveling around at this time of night. Counting out the days on her fingers, she laughed out loud.
She couldn't believe that she hadn't remembered that it was already New Year's Eve. Walking faster this time, she shook her head. Another year…just what she needed. Maybe this year would be better than the one before.
Lost in thought about what this year might bring, she didn't notice that a man was following her. He had noticed her when she stopped to think about the days, and when he had seen that she was walking towards the darkened opera house he had begun to follow behind her closely. Despite the crunching of the snow beneath his shoes, she still didn't hear him, and slipped into a side door of the Opera Populaire.
Unaware of the man behind her, Angelique walked through the deserted lobby and down the stairs. It was a little creepy in the place at night, but Angelique didn't think much of it. At first she had been a little nervous about walking through the opera house alone, but after a while she became more used to it.
The doors to the main theatre loomed before her, and she pushed them open slowly. She was grinning happily at the thought of being in the one place she loved most on the first night of the new year, and stepped into the theatre.
"Monsieur, are you here?" Not waiting for an answer, she pulled the hood away from her face with a smile. "Do you know that it's Ne---" Her words were cut off by a gasp of surprise as someone grabbed her from behind.
Reflexively, she kicked her leg out at the unseen threat. This just served to pull her feet up off the ground and make it easier for her attacker to throw her onto the ground. Angelique cried out, more in anger than in pain, and her hands flew up to strike at the face of the man whose face was now in front of hers. Catching him a bit off guard, she managed to scratch his face, her nails drawing blood. Enraged, the man smacked his hand across her face. For a moment, Angelique's world went cloudy.
Grabbing both her slender wrists in one of his hands, the man held her arms away from her body as he pulled her cloak away from her neck. Blood was streaming down his cheek in long streaks, and she could smell that there was alcohol on his breath. Her vision cleared a moment later, and with a grunt of effort, she kicked one leg out and caught him directly in the stomach. The man let go of her hands, giving her a moment to get her bearings. Angelique pulled back and punched the man as hard as she could in the face.
While he was still reeling from the punch, she jumped up and started running up the aisle. Unfortunately, the wind had been knocked out of her when she hit the ground, and her chest was hurting too much to get very far. The man caught up with her easily, grabbing the back of her dress and throwing her against the wall. Angelique's head slammed backwards on the wall, and she slid down onto the floor weakly.
Groaning softly as the man grabbed her hands and pinned her to the ground, she was thankful that her world was starting to go dark. Everything was spinning around, and she closed her eyes. No more than a moment later, the weight of the man was abruptly lifted from her. Angelique's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment she wondered if she was still alive.
To her surprise, a man was standing over her. It seemed at first that he was dressed entirely in black, but once her vision cleared she could see that he was wearing a fine tuxedo and cloak, and a hat obscured most of his face. What wasn't hidden by the hat was covered by a white mask, causing her to wonder who her champion was.
He was holding her attacker by the throat, the man's feet more than an inch from the ground. The man was gasping for air, but it was apparently to no avail with the masked man. Angelique heard an odd sound, like a branch breaking, and everything began to grow fuzzy again.
"Are you alright?" A familiar voice was nearby, and she tried to open her eyes. But the darkness was more comforting, claiming her easily. Though she didn't realize it, a pair of strong arms enfolded her and carried her to safety, leaving the body of the other man behind as, outside, Paris celebrated the new year.
* * *
When she opened her eyes again, she was lying on a bed. The sheets over her body were cool, yet she wasn't sure where she was. Richly embroidered throw pillows were around her body, and a heavy blanket was folded at the foot of the bed. There were candles everywhere in elaborate candelabras, and yet it still seemed so dim. One thing was for sure…she wasn't in her apartment. Her body ached all over, and she murmured softly just to hear her own voice.
At once, someone was by her side. Angelique tried to focus on who it was, but she was still so dizzy. For a moment, she couldn't remember what had happened. Then it came back to her in a rush, and she gasped softly.
"Are you in pain?" The man beside her spoke gently, and she tried to respond. Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton, though, so all she could manage was a murmur. "Don't worry, you're safe now."
"M'sieu…" Trying harder to speak, Angelique was rewarded by the coolness of a glass against her lips. Something sweet flooded into her mouth, forcing her to swallow. At once, the world began to spin again, but in a different way. This was a bit like floating, and she licked her lips. Mild laughter came from the blurry room, and the last thought that went through her mind before she fell asleep again was that she was safe.
* * *
Once she was asleep, Erik reached up to touch her face. There was a large bruise coming up on her smooth skin, and a completely new anger rose up in his chest. This was no way for any woman to be treated, much less a woman like her. But she was sleeping, and claimed she wasn't in any pain.
He would never forgive himself for being late that night. It had taken him longer than he had anticipated to select a gift for her, but he hadn't expected anything like this to happen. Showing up just in time to see her punch the man and try to run, he had gotten to her as quickly as he could, but as he watched her sleep he couldn't stop blaming himself. If only he had gotten there a little sooner, she might not have been hurt at all.
The sedative had taken effect quicker than he thought, but Erik supposed that she was probably tired from working all day and coming to the opera house at night. Her face looked peaceful, and he was reminded of the nights he had spent by her bedside, simply watching her breathe.
Remembering that her present was still in his jacket, Erik left her room for a moment to get it. When he returned, taking his place back beside her bed, she was murmuring something in her sleep. It sounded a little like she was calling for her mother, and Erik reached over to take her hand. This seemed to calm her down, and he placed the present onto the nightstand by her bed.
She might want to see it when she woke up.
* * *
A throbbing pain in her back awoke Angelique, and she opened her eyes to find that there was no one in the room with her. Sitting up, even a little, was a great effort thanks to the pain in her back, and she wondered why this was.
Though there was no one with her at the moment, she knew someone had been there when she last awoke. Was it her patron? Had he even given her his name? Looking around, she noticed that the room had no windows. She tried to remember something about the man who had been with her before she had fallen back asleep. A mask…had he been wearing a mask? Or was that just another one of her strange dreams?
Head aching, she lay back down on the pillows. They smelled to heaven of some sort of Oriental incense, and she pressed her face into them. Whatever it was, it was a familiar scent, and she snuggled her cheek against the pillows. This brought a painful sensation, and Angelique reached up to rub her face. Just the touch of her fingertips sent shards of pain through her face, and she resolved not to touch her face again until she could figure out what was wrong.
A mirror was on the far side of the room, and she pulled back the covers slowly as she looked around the room. It was beautifully furnished, and she wondered if her patron was some sort of nobleman. Her bare feet touched the ground gingerly, and were met by a soft rug of some sort. Kneeling down to feel the rug, she was amazed at just how soft it was. There were patterns all over it, and she figured that anything this fine had to be expensive. Quickly, she moved off it so as not to stand on it too long and crush it. The mirror was situated on the top of a lady's dressing table, which had a brush and several other ladies' toilet items lying on a little cloth. Amused, Angelique picked up what looked to be a tiny little toothbrush. Wondering exactly what ladies used this for, she turned it over in her hand.
Glancing up at the mirror, she caught a glimpse of her face and frowned. It looked as if there were a shadow on one side of it, and she lay the little brush down before turning her head to see what was wrong with it. Stifling a cry, she brought a hand to her cheek in disbelief. The resulting pain informed her that she wasn't dreaming, and her eyes widened.
"What…what happened to me?" The words were no more than an exhalation of breath, and she stared into the mirror as if it would answer her. Suddenly, she thought she understood why her back was hurting.
A knock at the door made her jump about a foot into the air, backing up into the dressing table. The edge of the table brushed against the small of her back, sending all new pain shooting through her body, and she managed to gasp out an answer.
"Y-yes?"
"Are you awake, Mademoiselle?" His voice was familiar, but all Angelique could manage was a nod. She realized a bit too late that he couldn't see her, and as there was no answer from within the room, the door opened a crack. "Is something wrong?" Surprised to find that no one was in the bed, he pushed the door open more. Angelique could see that there was a tray of food in his hands, and she tried to smile as he saw that she was over by the dresser. "Ah, you're over there now."
"Not for long." Moving as fast as she could, Angelique crawled back into the bed. Her patron (she had decided it could be no one else) set the tray down, then turned to her so that in the dim light of the candles she could see that he was indeed wearing a white mask over half of his face.
"You were asleep for quite some time," he remarked, inadvertently glancing at her face. Angelique was suddenly self-conscious about the bruise, and she tried to turn a little so that he couldn't see it. "Does it hurt badly?"
"My back hurts more, actually." Trying not to stare at the mask was difficult, and she looked over at the pillows. "But these…ah…pillows are very soft."
"Do you remember what happened?"
"Only that I walked into the opera house, and…" Suddenly, she felt very ill. Angelique pressed a hand to her lips as she remembered what had very nearly happened to her. "Oh my God…"
"Don't think about it anymore." Seeming sorry he had even brought it up, the man reached over and handed her the wineglass from the tray. "Here, drink this."
"Thank you." As she drank, her eyes looked over the side of his face that was visible. For no apparent reason, her heart started beating faster. Bringing the glass away from her lips, she cleared her throat. "You saved me, Monsieur. How can I thank you?"
"By having something to eat. Every time I see you, it seems as if you look thinner." Without waiting for her answer, he handed her the tray. Although there wasn't a great amount of food on it, to Angelique it looked like a banquet. Not wanting to look greedy, she took a little piece of bread and started nibbling at it. "When you are feeling better, I shall take you back home."
"Mm." The bread was softer than any she'd had before, and she resisted the urge to stuff it into her mouth. At least while he was watching. "Are you the one who I've been visiting at the opera house?"
"Yes. I look forward to your visits, Mademoiselle, and I do hope this nasty incident won't keep you from returning to see me." His voice was even nicer when she could see him, and she smiled.
"Nothing could, Monsieur. No one has ever wished to hear my music before, not to mention I am now in your debt for saving my life." Brightly, she went back to eating, and the man looked a bit sad. "Is something wrong?"
"I only wish I could have stopped him before he hurt you at all." His hand reached out towards her, as if he were going to touch her cheek, but he stopped a few inches short and shook his head. Angelique looked at him strangely, then sipped the wine again. There was a silence, and he stood up. "If you need anything, please call for me."
"How should I call for you?" Her eyes followed him across the room, and he paused at the door for a moment before turning to her.
"Erik. My name is Erik." With that, he left. Angelique watched him go, then acted on her first impulse and began eating the food as fast as she could. Some part of her worried that it would disappear if she left it alone too long.
Outside her door, Erik leaned on the wall and sighed. This was not what he had planned. If she was going to be down here for any length of time, he was going to have to control himself. The walk to his room seemed the longest of his life, and it was a while before he would return to check on her.
* * *
When he did return, he found her lying on the bed looking ill. Concerned, he hurried to her side, only to hear her groan softly.
"Mademoiselle, are you alright?"
"I don't feel quite so well." Her little hand was covering her eyes, and Erik caught a glance of the dinner tray. It was completely empty, and the plate looked as if she had cleaned it off with a rag.
"Did you eat all that just now?" She answered with another groan, and he laughed. "I fear that you have overeaten, my dear Mademoiselle."
"I believe I'm dying," she murmured, placing another hand on her stomach. Erik shook his head as he leaned over her.
"No, you are not. But perhaps it would be better if you got back under the blankets." This elicited a shake of her head.
"It's hot under there." One eye peered up at him. "Would you go away for a moment? I don't mean to be rude, but could you?"
"Of course!" He moved towards the door, then looked back at her. "I shall go out into the hallway, and you can call for me when you wish me to return."
"Don't go too far," she said softly. There was something in her voice that Erik could not distinguish, and he tried to figure it out while he stood in the hallway.
Inside the room, Angelique managed to drag herself out of the bed. Unbuttoning her dress, she stepped out of it and gently lay it on the bench that sat before the dressing table. Steeling herself for what she knew was not going to be a pretty sight, she turned her back to the mirror and unbuttoned her slip. Sliding it off her shoulders, Angelique closed her eyes. The white cotton garment fell around her ankles, and she took a deep breath as she prepared herself.
When she opened her eyes, it was almost worse than she had thought it would be. Most of her back was a shade of purple one usually finds in flowers, with darker blackish-purple streaks running through it. Angelique felt a little sick, and a shocked sound came out of her mouth. It must have been louder than she intended, because there was a soft knock at the door.
"Mademoiselle?"
"Just a moment!" Angelique pulled the slip back up over her body, and began buttoning it as she went towards the bed. Grimacing with pain, she made it back into the bed and pulled the covers over her legs. "Come in!"
"I heard you cry out…is everything alright?" Erik's face was covered with worry, and she nodded. She started braiding her hair slowly, and he sat next to her. Angelique noticed that he was no longer wearing his fine clothes of the night before. Instead, he was wearing a wine-colored smoking jacket over an immaculate white shirt, and she smiled.
"I'm fine now."
"How is your stomach feeling, Mademoiselle?"
"Still a little odd. But really, I'd prefer if you would call me Angelique. Mademoiselle seems so formal, and we can't have that now that you've seen me in my nightgown, can we?" Eyes as blue as jewels turned to him, and Erik was struck.
"Of course not. I shall call you anything you want." Cautiously, he offered her his hands, which she slipped her own into without faltering. Her eyes turned to gaze at his mask thoughtfully.
"Why do you wear that?" It seemed a harmless enough question, but Erik pulled his hands away from her at once. Angelique looked a little hurt, and set her own hands back into her lap. "I'm sorry, Monsieur."
"Forget it." The words came out a little more abrupt than he had intended, and he reached over to her nightstand. "Here, this is for you." Slowly, she looked up at him. Erik handed her the little box, and she turned it over in her hands.
"What is this for?"
"It is a Christmas present." As soon as he said this, her eyes lit up happily. "I never thanked you for the one you gave to me."
"There's no need for that," Angelique said, shaking her head. She looked at the little box. "May I open this?"
"By all means, yes! I hope you enjoy it," he said, although he suspected that she was enjoying simply opening the box. Putting aside the colorful paper, she opened the little box within and pulled out the actual present.
"Oh! It's wonderful!" Sitting in the palm of her hand was a small jade elephant wearing a little golden saddle. It was perfect in every detail, and she laughed. "Wherever did you get this?"
"It's been so long, I can't recall. Do you like it?"
"Very much! I've never had anything so pretty in my life!" Her fingertips fluttered over the elephant's trunk, and she smiled up at Erik. "Thank you so much, this is the loveliest thing anyone has ever given me!"
"My dear, I'm glad you like it." Watching her face light up was thanks enough for him, and she kept turning the little elephant over in her hands.
"I love it!" Still grinning, she hugged the little piece of jade to her chest. "I haven't had a real Christmas present in years."
"I hope you can forgive the lateness of it."
"You could have given it to me on St. Valentine's day and I still would love it!" A sudden pain poked her in the stomach, and she rubbed it gently. Erik looked at her, concerned. Angelique smiled. "I'm all right. Would you be terribly upset if I went to bed right now?"
"Of course not! My only thoughts are of your happiness." Picking up the tray, he started out of the room. Angelique placed the little elephant on her nightstand, then moved down under the covers. "If you should need anything during the night, just call for me and I shall be here."
"You've been most kind to me, Monsieur Erik. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it." The only light in the room was from the candles, and he turned to smile at her from the doorway.
"Good night, Angelique."
"Good night."
* * *
As he closed the door, Erik lingered in the hallway outside her room for a minute. But no sound came from within, and he began his slow journey down the hallway. It became apparent just a moment later that she wasn't going to need him any more, and he disappeared into his room.
Putting the tray down and taking off his mask, he sat before the barrel organ that was in his room. Maybe if he played a little music, he could take his mind off the woman who was sleeping down the hall. All he could think about was the way she had spoken to him, asking him not too go too far away.
It was too much to ask that she might actually care for him. True, she did seem to regard him as a friend, and that was more than most wished to think about him. But she didn't seem to want to leave his home, and Erik certainly wasn't about to force her to go.
On their own, his hands began to work out the notes of a slow, lingering melody. It was relaxing, and he hoped that if Angelique hadn't already fallen asleep, this would help her to do so.
* * *
In the darkness, Angelique's eyes fluttered open. Something had awakened her, but she didn't know what. She didn't know if it was a dream or whether something else had awakened her. For a moment she was frightened, and the very first thought that came into her mind was to call out for Erik. From the silence in the house, however, she figured that he wasn't awake and didn't want to disturb him.
The candles had long since gone out, and she wasn't even sure what time it was. Time had lost all meaning for her, and the stillness of the suite she was in compounded this feeling. All her senses were enhanced by the lack of light, and the spicy scent of the Orient surrounded her like a blanket.
Reaching out for no reason, not even knowing what she was going to find, the back of her hand hit something that was sitting on the nightstand. At first she was afraid that she had broken something, but there was no crash from the side of the bed. Instead, there was a mechanical sound, as if something very old was forcing itself to come to life.
All at once, notes began to tumble out of the air. Gasping softly, Angelique fumbled in the dark until her hand closed around an oval shaped object. She could tell from the shape that it was a music box, and the lid was open. It was too large for one hand, so she reached over with both of her hands to get a hold on it. When she pulled it to her, the lid fell down and stopped the music. Carefully, she reopened the music box and let the sounds begin again.
This time, she hummed softly along with the notes. The melody, which was emanating from the tired springs and gears of the music box, was the same one that she had been singing for years. Running her fingers along the edge of the box, she could feel its velvety lining and cool wooden casing. Something was inlaid on the lid, but in the dark there was no way of telling what it was.
Countless thoughts ran through her mind. When had she heard this music before? Had she been in this room another time in her life? To her knowledge, her parents hadn't owned a music box. Certainly not a music box like this, and the tune was locked into her memory so firmly…yet it seemed like a distant memory.
Falling back onto the pillows with the box in her hands, the scent of the pillows rose up around her. As the music and the fragrance of the Far East enveloped her, Angelique closed her eyes and thought about Erik. He had been so kind to her, even though she had never met him before. At least now she had a name to go with the voice that had inspired several dreams. Still, he was definitely a far cry from the man she had imagined all the nights they had spent at the opera, in the embrace of music. But the more she knew about him, the more mystery she found. It was as if this man was an enigma from head to foot, and yet she was entranced by him.
Erik's laughter rang through her head, and all of a sudden something clicked in her mind. Slamming the music box shut, Angelique sat bolt upright in bed. It couldn't be…it simply…
Throwing back the covers with one hand as she held the music box to her hand with the other, she stumbled through the darkness to the door of her room. Somehow she found the doorknob and twisted it roughly. The door creaked loudly as it opened into darkness, and Angelique didn't know where she should be going. Somewhere in the unending blackness, she heard a footstep. Frozen where she stood, Angelique pressed the music box to her chest.
"E-erik?" Her voice caught in her throat, and out of nowhere a door opened. Illuminated by the gentle glow of the candelabra in his hand, Erik stepped out into the long hallway. The light fell over Angelique's cotton-clothed body, and her face was covered with fear.
"Angelique! When did you wake up?" Walking towards her, he noticed the music box. "I thought you might enjoy that. Did it disturb you?"
"Oh, no, I don't know what woke me up. But this music box…I knew the song from somewhere. Where did it come from?" Holding it up, she opened the lid so she could hear the music one more time. "This song…I remember it from when I was a child. I used to hum it when I was sad."
"There…" As he tried to speak, Erik's words faltered into silence. "There is a reason you know this music." Even in the darkness of the hallway, Erik could see that Angelique's eyes were wide. He cleared his throat. "I thought it would be too much for you to hear after what happened in the opera house...but I was going to explain it to you."
"Are you…" Before she could speak, Angelique silenced herself. She couldn't bring herself to ask the question she had intended, and as Erik took a step towards her he noticed that her face had gone completely white. His face was grave, and the thoughts in her mind finally got to be too much for her. Angelique's knees buckled, and Erik leapt forward to catch her. Somehow she managed to hang onto the music box, but the candelabra in his hand fell onto the floor. Once more the hallway was plunged into darkness, and Angelique felt a pair of arms around her.
Then she was being raised up, into the air. She was certain she hadn't been more than a few steps from her bedroom, yet it seemed as if they were moving for an eternity. Next to her cheek, she could hear Erik's heart beating. For a moment, she wasn't entirely sure that she was awake. But one of the hinges of the music box was digging into the flesh of her arm, and this was the only thing that told her she was awake.
Gently, he placed her onto the bed and pulled the covers over her thin frame. His footsteps moved away from her, it seemed for an eternity, and Angelique gripped the music box tighter. Could this man really be the father who had given her up? If so, why? He didn't seem to be poor, and he truly seemed to care for her.
An awful thought crept into her mind. In the short amount of time that she had known him, Angelique was fairly certain that she had been developing some sort of feelings for him. Even if it was nothing more than an infatuation, she still couldn't deny that she had felt something. If he was her father…she didn't want to think about it.
On the other side of the room, several candles lit up. Erik turned around, most of his face still in shadow. Angelique's stomach cramped up again, and she looked down at the music box. The question was still on her lips, but she didn't know how to ask it. His face was so concerned for her, and she couldn't bear to look up at him.
Silently, he pulled the bench from the dressing table to her bedside and sat next to her. Angelique's eyes darted up to meet his gaze for a moment, then rested back on the music box. Now, in the light, she could see that it was a bundle of wildflowers that were inlaid on the lid of the box. The ribbon which held them together was a light blue, and it seemed as if it were going to flutter with the slightest breeze. Her fingers crept over the flowers slowly, trying to learn their pattern.
"Tell me, Angelique, what is bothering you so much?" The gentle voice she had become accustomed to hearing was near her once more, and she knew she couldn't avoid the question any longer.
"Since I was little, I knew that my parents had found me, that I wasn't their daughter. But I always wondered who my mother and father were…" Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him. "The music box, the incense…everything here is so familiar to me…am I…I mean…"
"Don't be ludicrous, child. I am most certainly not your father, if that's what you're thinking."
"You…aren't?" The words filled her simultaneously with relief and disappointment as she spoke them, and Erik gave her a look.
"I daresay I would remember something like that. In any case, though, this isn't the first time you have been in this room. When I found you, you were hardly a day old, crying as if someone was torturing you. It was winter; I couldn't just leave you there or you would have frozen to death. So I brought you here with me." As he spoke, Angelique sat perfectly still in her bed, watching him intently. "You were such a quiet child…that's why I called you Angelique. But of course, you couldn't stay here. It isn't a suitable place for a child at all."
"What was…I mean, when I was a little girl, what was I like?" Her mind was full of questions that she had wanted to ask her parents, but she tried to restrain herself.
"Quiet. You hardly ever cried or spoke, and you were always watching everything. I must admit that I thought you were unwell for a time. But you used to watch me play the organ, as soon as you were old enough to get out of your bassinet." He laughed, remembering something. "You gave me an awful fright when you crawled up beside me…I wasn't expecting a small person to join me on the bench. Although I can't recall how you learned to walk."
"Really?" Trying to think of something else to ask him that wouldn't sound silly, she looked at her hands. Her eyes lit on the bracelet, her most beloved possession. "Did this bracelet come from you?"
"Yes. It belonged to my mother. I thought you might like it when you got older." From behind the mask, he smiled. "Was I correct?"
"I haven't taken it off since I got it. Sometimes, after my parents died, I would imagine who might have given me this bracelet…especially when I was sad. It kept me from crying sometimes." Toying with the bracelet on her wrist, Angelique smiled thoughtfully. Unsure if he had heard her right, Erik looked a little closer at her.
"Exactly when did your parents die?"
"When I was fifteen. I wonder sometimes if it was my fault…" The look on Erik's face informed her that clarification was necessary, and she shook her head. "My father wanted to take me to see an opera, because I kept going on and on about the newspapers. We were going to visit my aunt first, and the horses got spooked. My parents were killed by some robbers. Why they let me live, I've never understood."
"Oh…" Erik had been under the impression that they had passed away recently, possibly of natural causes. Looking back at Angelique, he noticed that as she talked about her parents, she began to play nervously with the bracelet. "Forgive me, dear girl. I didn't mean to upset you."
"You haven't!" At once she was smiling again, but there was a sorrow in her eyes that she couldn't conceal. Erik wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms until she was truly happy again, but all he could do was offer her a hand. Angelique took it at once, trying to smile. "Good heavens, your hands are cold!" Looking concerned, Angelique began rubbing his hands between hers, trying to warm them. The innocent futility of her gesture touched Erik's heart in a way which was both worrying and comforting, and he pulled his hands away gently.
"Are you going to return to your home tomorrow?" The words came out more curtly than he had intended, and Angelique shrugged gently.
"I suppose I shall. Although to tell you the truth, I hadn't really thought too much about it." She stretched down to touch her feet, and the sleeveless nature of her slip revealed part of the bruises on her back. "Although I must confess…" Looking back up, she saw that Erik was looking at her, shocked. "What?"
"Your back…I hadn't realized that he had hurt you so much."
"Oh, those. I guess when he…he threw me on the wall…" Angelique's voice trembled, and Erik shook his head.
"Don't say anymore about that, it only makes me angry. But tell me, what were you about to say?" Erik didn't want to admit that it caused him pain to see her upset, and she smiled at the welcome change of subject.
"Just that I've become quite fond of this place…as well as of the company." The last bit of her sentence was much softer than the first part, but Erik heard it as clearly as if she had shouted it.
"If you wish, you can stay here. In truth, I would much prefer it if you did stay. While that particular man no longer poses a threat to you, there are always others who will not be quite so drunk." There was a fury glittering in his eyes that Angelique didn't want to risk incurring.
"Then I shall stay. But how will I get to work? Mme Lafours will surely be missing me after I've been gone for a day…" As soon as she said it, Angelique knew something was up. Erik's eyes shifted away from her, causing her to lean forward. "I have only been gone a day, haven't I?"
"You were…in a great deal of pain." Reluctantly, he turned his eyes back to her. "I couldn't bear to see you suffering so much, so every time you awoke I gave you something for the pain, and to help you sleep."
"How long have I been out?" Angelique leaned closer to him, her eyes serious. Once again, he looked away from her. "How long, Erik!"
"Three days. It was just today that you were able to move about without too much pain. Even if I had taken you back, you would have been no good up there. Besides that, I didn't know if there was anyone to take care of you, so I took it upon myself. I didn't mean to offend you." Somehow, she didn't look offended. She looked more confused.
"Up there? What do you mean, up there?"
"It's a bit hard to explain." He had known this would be inevitable, but he worried that she would be frightened when she learned where they were. Carefully, he explained to her that under the fifth cellar in the opera house was a lake, and so forth until her eyes lit up with understanding.
"We're under the Opera Populaire?" The fact that this didn't frighten her was a bit worrying to Erik, but he nodded. "That means you must be…" Again she was silent, thinking about something. Erik looked at her mildly, wondering what she was thinking. Then she nodded firmly. "Now there's no way I can leave." She lay back on the pillows and pulled the covers up around her face, not bothering to explain her words.
A moment later, Erik closed the door to her room. This was doubtlessly a confusing woman. But still, there was something about her that seemed to be pulling him closer and closer to her. No matter how hard he tried to keep himself from feeling something for her, he couldn't.
Quietly, he opened the door and looked into her room. She was lying there in the darkness, a tiny shape under the mounds of blankets. He wondered what she had meant by liking the company. There was a rustling of sheets as she rolled over into the pillows, and he closed the door again.
As he walked down the hall, Erik contented himself with knowing that she wanted to return. For now, that was all he needed.
* * *
Standing at the edge of the lake near the entrance to the Rue Scribe, Angelique blinked. The gate was huge, stretching up into the darkness, and she looked back at Erik.
"How do I get back?"
"This is the key to both the gate here and the one in front of my home. I am entrusting this to you, so do not lose it. I would not want anyone coming into my home without my knowledge." There were several small steps in front of the gate, and Erik helped her up them. When they reached the gate, he unlocked it and handed the key to Angelique, along with some money. "There. For god's sake, buy yourself some gloves."
"I can't take this money." Angelique shook her head and held the money back out to him. Erik gave her a look which left no room for discussion of the matter, and she reluctantly tucked the money into her cloak. "You are an exasperating man."
"I do try my best. Now go on, before someone sees you." He pulled the gate closed and looked at Angelique. "Lock it behind you."
"Thank you, Erik." Doing as he asked, she placed the key into her pocket alongside the money. For some reason the sight of his masked face behind the gate made her heart ache, and she pressed her hands to the bars for a moment, wrapping her fingers around the unyielding iron. "I shall return as soon as I can."
"I shall look forward to it." There was another moment of silence, and Angelique looked at him with a smile.
"Until then," she said, hurrying up the stairs to the Rue Scribe. Just before she went up to the surface, she waved to Erik with a smile. He raised a hand in return to her gesture, and she picked up her skirt and emerged into the light of morning. When she was completely gone, Erik shook his head. She was so beautiful. How could he ever hope that someone like her would love someone who looked like him?
Above, Angelique nearly ran to her apartment. Humming happily, she opened the door to her tiny room and went to her closet. For some reason it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and she selected the nicest wool dress she had. It wasn't quite as fancy as the one she had worn the night before, but she could always come back to change before she went back down to see Erik.
Turning towards her nightstand, she noticed that the red rose he had given her was still lying on the nightstand. It had long since dried out, but somehow managed to keep its shape perfectly. Not a single petal had fallen, and the color had only slightly faded in the time she had been gone. Angelique was tempted to pick it up, but was afraid that she would crush it by doing so. Leaving it where it was, she smiled. The sun was rising rapidly into the sky, and she had to get to Mme Lafours' shop before the woman thought she was dead.
As she rushed down the street to the shop, she noticed that there was a crowd of police officers swarming around the Opera Populaire. Slowing a little as she approached it, she wondered if she had left any sign that she was there. One of the Surete turned to look at her, and Angelique hurried out of their sight. There was something uncomfortable about the way they were looking at her.
On her way to the shop, she noticed a young man selling newspapers on the corner. Walking past him, she noticed that the front page said something about the opera house. Interested, Angelique pulled some of the money Erik had given her out of her pocket and purchased it. Unfolding it as she walked, she quickly scanned the words on the front page. As she read them, she started laughing.
Being New Years Eve, no one had actually gone into the theatre until January 2nd. According to the paper, the managers had found the body of an unidentified man in the main theatre that morning. It was also reported that the man's neck was broken along with several cuts on his face and what looked to be a broken nose. Angelique was slightly amused by this. She had never known that she could break someone's nose.
The managers were officially saying that it was nothing more than an accident, but an editorial in the side column voiced the opinion that perhaps the Phantom of the Opera was not dead after all. The bell over the door of the sewing shop jingled as she walked inside, but Angelique was too busy laughing to think about it. She wished she could have seen MM. Andre and Firmin's faces when they walked into the theatre that morning, and this thought made her laugh more.
Mme Lafours appeared out of nowhere, her face showing a bizarre mixture of relief and anger as she saw Angelique standing in the doorway reading a paper. She marched up to the girl and snatched the paper out of her hand.
"Mademoiselle DuBain! Where have you been for…for the…oh, my God…" The newspaper fluttered to the floor of the shop as Mme Lafours saw the huge bruise on this side of Angelique's face. "Child, what happened to you?"
"Hm?" Suddenly, Angelique realized what the Surete had been staring at. She had almost forgotten about the bruise on her cheek, and she smiled at Mme Lafours. "This is nothing, really. I was knocked down by a robber, that's all!" Angelique picked up her newspaper and folded it carefully as she went towards her sewing table. The older woman watched her closely as she picked up the dress she had been working on.
"Are you quite alright? You were gone so long, I was afraid something terrible happened to you, especially with those strange things going on at the opera house again!" This was the first time Mme Lafours had ever shown her any sort of concern, and it worried Angelique greatly.
"Madame, I was simply a bit ill. I would just like to get started on my work, if you don't mind. After all, I have been gone for several days." Picking up her work again, she began sewing at the hem of a dress. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Mme Lafours staring at her for a little while, and Angelique knew she was looking at the bruise. At once she wished she were back with Erik. He wouldn't stare at her face, no matter how bad it looked.
With a soft sigh, she let her mind wander along to the subject of Erik, and of the house below the ground. Already, she longed to be back in the soft bed, to be in a room where there was someone to talk to, and someone who wanted to listen. Feeling more than a little silly, she wondered what exactly it was that was attracting her to him. Mostly, she supposed it was his voice. Erik did have quite a lovely voice.
Letting a smile crack her usually blank visage, her mind wandered off to the music she had heard the night before. Not sure when she had awoken, she had been easily lulled back into her dreams by the beautiful, haunting voice singing songs down the hall. His deep voice was like a siren's call, inviting her to come to him, to forget any hope of sleep she might have had. For a moment, she lay the thick dress down on the table, her usually quick hands lying still on the fabric.
Could it be possible that he was thinking of her as well?
Going back to her sewing, Angelique shook her head. She fancied that she sounded like a silly little schoolgirl, the way she was letting herself get carried away with these frivolous romantic thoughts.
Instead, her mind found comfort in the music that had quite suddenly formed itself in her mind. As the notes of the new piece wrapped themselves around her, the smile on her face widened. Soon she was completely lost, and before she even realized it, lunchtime was upon her and just after that, Mme. Lafours was telling her to go home and get some rest.
Excited, Angelique raced out the door of the shop. Above her, the stars of the New Year were twinkling in a surprisingly clear sky. For the first time since she was a child, she stretched her hands up into the sky, trying to touch one of the faraway objects. The wind was cold against her face, but it felt perfect as she closed her eyes. As she stood, hands reaching to the heavens, it began to snow again. With each tiny flake that landed, on her face, she somehow managed to feel a little calmer.
"What on Earth is that woman doing?" A pair of young lovers was walking on the opposite side of the street, and Angelique heard the man's voice clearly through her fugue but made no move. The woman's voice piped up next, snapping Angelique out of her trance.
"Not quite right…"
"Sad in one so young…" They passed by quickly as she pulled her head up to look at them, and Angelique laughed as she hurried to the clothier's to buy her gloves. Passing by the opera house, she noticed that the doors were still roped off. Unconsciously, her hand slipped into her pocket and touched the key Erik had given her. With a little grin, she ran the rest of the way to the store. She couldn't wait to tell Erik about her new piece of music. This one would be her best ever.
Outside the clothiers, the snowflakes filled in her footprints slowly.