Author's Note: Salut! One hundred house points to those who guess which character in this fic does not belong to me! And another hundred points to those who can tell me which characters do belong to me. Another hundred points to those who can tell me where the idea of house points came from. Oh, and another hundred house points to those who can say who came up with the idea of house points...
How Hungry Would a Woman Have to Be? – Chapter Two
The streets of Paris were cold and silent as the two figures walked in the direction of the streets of Les Halles. The shorter figure led the way, holding the hand of her companion and they soon found themselves in front of a dingy row of flats. The smell of human waste and refuse permeated the air and every visible surface that was not covered with ice was covered with a thick coat of grime. The woman let go of her companion's hand and using a key she fetched from a bag tied to her waist, she opened the door and led the way inside a dark and cramped staircase to the rooms on the top floor.
"I know it ain't much, but it'll do." she announced as they reached the last landing on the uneven staircase. The two walked into an unlit room that smelled of alcohol and tobacco.
The sound of a match being lit hissed through the silence as Marceline moved to light a lamp on a nearby table and Erik was finally able to observe the details of the room; it was bare and scantily furnished, but it appeared clean and well-maintained although the decor was of the poorest quality. A bed covered with a thin, patched quilt was against one wall, a dresser with a cracked porcelain washbasin stood in the opposite corner, and a lop-sided table near the door. Next to the lamp sat a small, intricate glass dish upon which was a detailed design in many bright colors; it was the only adornment in the entire room that did not serve a practical purpose.
"Well, monsieur, I suppose we'd best rid ourselves o' these wraps." Marceline stated as she hung her shawl on a hook near the door. She turned around only to find that Erik had not moved an inch since she had let go of his hand to light the lamp and again she reached out to him.
"Come along, monsieur. I will not bite...unless you ask me to..."
He drew away from her at that and pressed his back against the door; there was no room left for any further retreat. Marceline watched this with both some annoyance and some pity for her new patron. Apparently, the man was unused to the phrases used by her fellow sisters of the night. She concluded that he responded much better to coaxing rather than seduction.
Changing tactics, she held out both of her arms to him, and in the most welcoming tone she could muster asked him "Well, may I welcome you to my abode. I might not be a grand lady, but I ain't improper enough to let a guest stand in my doorway with his coat an' hat still on; please come on in an' make yourself at home."
Erik moved slowly from against the doorway and stood a few more feet into the tiny room. She divested him of his cloak, hat, and muffler and hung them with great care on the hooks next to her shawl; apparently, she had much practice in this.
"Well, now that that's been done the rest is up to you. It ain't unusual for me to offer a bit o' wine or brandy if you want, or would you rather enjoy yourself first?"
It took Erik a moment to realize what she had meant by enjoying himself and he felt himself blush crimson beneath the mask. Oddly enough, she hadn't been concerned at all with the piece of porcelain or even at what lay behind it. Perhaps she didn't mind it after all, so long as he could pay...
"I would...I would care for some brandy, if it is no trouble, mademoiselle."
"Ain't no trouble for me." she replied as she went to a trunk at the foot of the bed. She drew out a bottle and two glasses and poured a little bit of the amber liquid into each and offered him a glass. She seemed to sense the fact that he desperately needed his space and stepped away from him as she sipped at the brandy.
He twirled the alcohol in its glass but as he raised it to his lips, he realized that he would have to remove the mask in order to drink. He looked up suddenly and saw a reflection of himself; how had he not noticed that small mirror before? His optimism died right there as his fears claimed him; there was no way that he could ever bring himself to go along with this. Even in the dark, the woman would be able to feel his scars, the malformations, the roughness of his twisted lips, his complete and utter lack of a nose - there was no way he could do this. The wave of self-loathing and shame threatened to consume him and this change in his bearing was not unnoticed by Marceline.
She had watched him lift his brandy to the lips of his mask only to abort the motion without the grace of his other movements. Almost in a second, the proud and regal stance with which he carried himself crumbled and left a veritable shaking wreck of a man in its place. She put her own glass down on the table and put a gentle hand on his forearm.
"What's the matter, love? Are you alright wi' everything?" she asked quietly.
He pulled his arm away from her and began to walk toward the door, pulling his cloak and his hat off of their hooks. "This was a mistake. I am sorry to have wasted your time...please forgive me...I am so sorry..."
He would have left if she hadn't stepped in front of him, blocking his only exit. "Now what is the problem, dear? I told you that I'm an honest girl 'n if you're havin' second thoughts then I understand. But I ain't able to pay you back for it all. I might not get another customer tonight, you see."
"Keep the money, it does not concern me."
"I ain't chargin' you forty francs for a glass o' brandy that you haven't even drunk. I told you that I do business proper-like. I owe you somethin' back, even if you ain't takin' my services."
"The money is nothing to me. Please don't concern yourself with it; just forget you ever met me. I'm sorry to have troubled you."
"You ain't troubled me none at all. But you managed to trouble yourself a good deal. What's the matter, dearie? You're goin' about an' makin' me worried 'bout you. Why the change o' heart all of a sudden?"
"You don't understand, mademoiselle. You cannot possibly understand. Please forgive me and please do not concern yourself with me." He would have left right then and there, but her next question shocked him into delaying.
"You ain't a priest, are you?" The question was so outlandish, so unexpected that Erik had to turn around to question it.
"Why on earth would you think that?"
"You wouldn'tve been the first one I've had. I told you I've done it all and it ain't a matter to me. Would make sense why you're all uptight 'bout my services and why you hide all the time."
"I am not a priest."
"Well, then what is the problem? Ain't I what you expected?"
"This has nothing to do with you, only with me."
"Love, please just relax a minute. Sit yourself down a minute; you're shakin' like a leaf!" she led him over to the bed and pushed him into a sitting position. She stood in front of him, giving him the necessary space for him to breathe and to stop the tremors in his hands.
"Now, dearie, please tell me the problem. I know you wouldn't have come here if you weren't interested in the first place and I ain't lettin' you run away from me without a good reason. You ain't got no reason to be afraid of me." she said in a compassionate tone.
Taking his hands gently in hers, she knelt in front of him and looked up into the glowing eyes behind the mask.
"Have you a wife, dearie? Is that the problem then?"
He pulled his hands roughly from hers and stood up from the bed. "No, I have no wife. There is no woman who would have me, much less marry me." Again he walked over to his cloak but the gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him again and in the same, understanding tone, she replied "I've already said that I would have you. I am yours for tonight; you can ask whatever you will of me."
Unbidden images of her nude form permeated his thoughts and he forced himself to ignore the urges that pulsated in his blood. She was the only woman who had ever expressed willingness, the only woman who had ever touched him without fear or recoiling in horror. She was the only woman who treated him as a man.
And he was too impotent to do anything about it.
She stepped in front of him again and looked up into his eyes. "Dearie, I can't make you stay, but I think that you want to. You're afraid of me, ain't you? Please don't be afraid of me..." The note of pleading in her tone was almost imperceptible.
He looked to her, unable to speak and watched as she moved her gaze from his eyes to the piece of porcelain that covered his face. His innards twisted as recognition flashed in her eyes and he felt like he was about to be sick when she smiled again and spoke.
"This is your problem, ain't it? You don't want to take it off with me...I told you before that it won't be an issue. Please give me a minute; I think I know something that will help..."
She turned behind her and shut off the lamp. The room was plunged into darkness and before Erik eyes could even focus, he found a slip of cloth in his hand and could feel her form next to his.
"Blindfold me if you want. Do whatever you need to make yourself more comfortable. Leave it on or take it off...just relax and try to be comfortable."
She guided his hands to her face and helped him adjust the cloth over her eyes. He moved automatically with her wishes and gently tied the ends of the fabric over her hair. He went to step away, but she held his hands in hers and guided them over the exposed flesh around her neck and chest. She allowed him some time to explore her neck and shoulders and smiled to herself as his hands never ventured below her collarbone. It was she who took one of his hands and gently led it to her breast and he let out a shocked gasp.
"Just relax, dearie. It ain't no fun unless you relax."
He traced the outline of her breasts through her dress with a bit of wonder, but then put his hands back up to her face and in her hair. These sensations were too much for him - he was uncomfortable with basic human contact and had no way to prepare himself for the waves of desire that were threatening to break his control. He could not bed her, but maybe...
He whispered to her in a small, uncertain voice. "Please forgive me...I am not accustomed to this...I've longed for this for years, but I cannot...I cannot force you to do this..."
"You ain't forcin' me to do anything, love."
"But I am...you don't know...you don't understand, mademoiselle..."
"Please, call me Marceline. Now's not the time to be formal with me."
"Marceline," her name tasted sweet on his tongue. "Please try to understand. I want to stay, but I am not like other men. I am not a normal man, Marceline. I cannot...force you to go through with this, but I would like to stay..."
"You've every right to stay if you want. But what will you have me do for you?"
He buried his hands in her hair and let the silky strands slip through his long, skeletal fingers. He breathed in her scent, her own feminine fragrance accented by the cheap oils that she had applied. He vaguely realized that this was the closest that he had ever been with a woman since his birth.
"Would it...may I touch you? I've never held a woman...I'm sorry, please forgive me..."
He moved to step away from her but she turned around and forced herself into his arms, molding herself against his body. He was overcome by the sensations as she stroked his back with her hands, her head resting trustingly on his chest.
In the end, he was forced to give into instinct. He tightened his arms around her and buried his masked face in the beautiful curls of her hair.
A/N: Well, considering the amount of time it took 'Patron' to get half of the number of reviews that this first chapter got in less than two days, I suppose it would be appropriate to consider this fic 'well-received'. I have not changed the rating as I do not believe that it garners a 'R' rating at the moment, but considering what happens in the next chapter, I may change the rating.
I am glad that some of you find my Erik to be in-character; I have tried and that man is absolutely the most difficult character to write for in fiction. For those who have read any of 'Patron', you already know that I prefer to focus on other characters rather than just our favorite phantom.
SRP, Catherine, Suzey, Sue, gryffingirl, ErikaNapoleonica, and Rowin, thank you for your reviews and support. I hope that you enjoy this chapter as well as those to come.
Schattenfreude, I have a bit of a favor to ask of you...is there any way you could possibly let me know what happened at the end of the Robert Englund movie? I had rented it years ago before I was the magic age of 17 and my mother managed to walk in at the scene with Carlotta in the punchbowl...she was less than amused and forced me to return the film without watching the rest. I've never had the chance to rent it again and have been dying to know how it ends! Thank you very much for your review; all comments are always appreciated and I am glad that you find the plot interesting and Marceline a 'non-Mary-Sue'.
Neshomeh, do your homework!! Thank you for your reviews for both this and 'Patron'; I was pleasantly surprised by the response to this fic especially after my first efforts with 'Patron'. It turns out that I have read your work in the past...I am extremely guilty of the crime of reading and not reviewing. This will sound rather strange, but I had actually been wondering about a certain Christmas fic featuring our favorite phantom and two days later, I received your reviews. Looking you up, I found that you were the author that I had been searching for as I had completely forgotten the title and had no clue of where to start looking. I adored your 'Premier Noel' piece and was rather disappointed to see that you only got eight reviews for it; as soon as I handle my school crap start looking for review # 9...but do not be offended as it will most likely be unsigned; I never sign them as a rule. Thanks again for your review!
And finally, my dear Olethros...thank you again for your support! With the exception of Neshomeh, you are the only one who bothered to read and review both of my fics and I cannot tell you how greatly I appreciate your comments and encouragement. 'Patron' will most likely not be updated for a few days due to school problems...the news I received last week completely destroyed all chances of graduating on time with my dual degrees and dual minors as I am unable to schedule the courses I need. To make matters worse, I've a P-chem exam this week and a lab presentation due (at least this presentation is in English rather than the French one I had to give recently!). Glad to see the different POV's worked in 'Patron'; I had hoped that they would and I hope you enjoy the plot twist. I'm gathering that you've figured out where I'm going with it and I hope that you enjoy the continuation of that story as well as this new chapter.