TITLE: "The Darkness of the Music of the Night"

AUTHOR (s): EriksSylvia and Sweet-Intoxication

DISTRIBUTION: If you want to put this somewhere else email me first.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any characters, except Aaralyn.

RATING: R

SUMMARY: Angelique Daae was born seven years before Christine. The Angel of Music was hers first. After Charles Daae died, Angelique always felt that Christine had taken everything she'd ever had. When Raoul is murdered and Christine has nowhere else to go will the elder Daae welcome Christine with open arms or turn her away. What happens when Angelique finally meets her Angel of Music.

COUPLES: E/AW (sort of) and E/C

Wan

Again, don't own characters and songs, except Aaralyn/Angelique. Thanks again to my dearest Sweet-Intoxication for Erik Destler. The song sung by Michelle is "Not a Virgin" by Poe. I don't own that. I hope you all like this. Oh, and so you don't get confused, the bold/italic bits are Aaralyn's thoughts. That'll happen a lot. Thanks for flying Sylvia Airlines and enjoy your in-flight movie…

Chapter 1

He's there, inside your mind.

Aaralyn woke up early the next morning. She checked the small clock by her bedside and saw that it was only 6:15 AM. She sat up slowly and stretched, her black curls falling out of the small bun she'd put it in before she went to sleep. She threw her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, grabbing her robe and slipping it on. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched again. Aaralyn yawned as she walked into her bathroom and washed her face.

"Aaralyn? Are you up?" A soft voice called from behind her closed door. "Yes, come in." She called, groggily. The door clicked open and Michelle appeared in the doorway of her bathroom. "Rachael didn't come back last night. She left with that sailor."

…damn…

The older girl rolled her eyes. "Well, then, I guess we'd better find someone to replace her then, shouldn't we." Michelle was only 17

…the same age as my sister…

, and therefore a little more naïve then Aaralyn, who was 24. Michelle's eyes widened. "But, what if she's hurt!"

…you don't think that crossed my mind too…

"That's her own fault, isn't?" "I guess so…" Michelle didn't say another word, she just left. Aaralyn ran a comb through her hair and began to get dressed. When she was fully clothed and looked presentable she walked out of her room and down the stairs. Nicole, age 15, their youngest girl, passed her on the way down. Nicole was a pretty doll, no doubt about that. She was tiny, pale and blonde. "Don't forget lipstick, Lyn." The blonde called. "I wont. I'm going out to get some more materiel for Chastity for some new costumes. Do you need anything?" The little girl shook her head and her hair fell in front of her eyes. Aaralyn had to admit, the girl had pretty blue eyes. Blue eyes….

…the stranger…

Aaralyn had to stop for a moment, she hadn't even seen his face, but the flash of blue she had seen was nearly intoxicating. She knew she was being stupid thinking about a man she hadn't even seen. She didn't even know if he was truly there last night or if he was just a figure of her imagination!

…get a grip aaralyn…

As she left her club, the dark stranger wouldn't leave her mind. Who was he? Would he back tonight? A strange surge of excitement ran through her. If he was going to be there that night she'd give him a show. She'd have to prepare…just in case. And maybe this time he wouldn't be so quick to leave.

Christine woke up late the next morning. She rolled out of bed and stretched, looking out of the small window. From how bright it was outside she guess it was already noon or somewhere around there. Little Lotte crossed the tiny bedroom she shared with Meg and opened her trunk, pulling out one of her dresses. She put it on and pulled her hair up into a bun. Christine opened the door and descended the steps to the lower levels of the Opera Populaire. She could hear the choir practicing. From the sound of it they were performing Faust. Christine giggled to herself and began to sing along with the familiar chorus piece. She decided to see how the new choir was and walked silently onto the stage. At the sight of her, whispers broke out immediately among the girls. "Pay attention please, girls..…Ms. Daae?"

The conductor of the orchestra, M. Reyer. Christine smiled, "Monsieur Reyer!" She held her hand out to him and he kissed it. "How are you, Monsieur?" She said softly. The man shook his head and looked at the choir girls. "Dreadful, they're a mess. Tonight is our second performance of 'Faust' and they still don't have pitch down…perhaps, Mademoiselle, you could give them a little demonstration of what perfection sounds like." Christine smiled kindly. "I hardly think perfection is the word, Monsieur Reyer, but I'd love to." The old conductor's face lit up. "The aria then, Mamselle?" She smiled at him and nodded.

'Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye. Remember me once in a while please promise me you'll try.'

It had been ages since she had last sung this song, but it was all coming back to her in waves. The stage was silent, except for the music and her voice.

'When you find that, once again, you long to take your heart back and be free - if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me.'

She thought of that night when she'd sang this very aria for a full house. Her first starring role.

'We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea - but if you can still remember stop and think of me…'

That fateful night, Raoul had come to her in her dressing room. He remembered his Little Lotte. He'd come to praise her.

'Think of all the things we've shared and seen - don't think about the things which might have been…'

He had wanted her to leave with him but something had interrupted. Erik had come to her, as well, for the first time that night.

'Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned. Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind.'

He had taken her down into the catacombs where he lived. He had sung for her that night. Her Phantom had opened his soul to her.

'Recall those days look back on all those times, think of the things we'll never do - there will never be a day, when I won't think of you…'

She had taken his mask from him the next day, Christine saw what he was underneath. It terrified her and excited her at the very same time. He was a deformed genius, but he'd said some cruel things to her that day as well. She missed him so.

'We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea - but please promise me, that sometimes you will think…of me!'

The room exploded with applause, the orchestra, the chorus girls and the stage hands. She blushed a deep crimson and did a little curtsy. "Mademoiselle, as divine as ever. You will be attending the performance tonight?" M. Reyer asked her, hopefully. "Thank you, Monsieur, always a pleasure to sing for you and yes, I will be in the audience tonight." He smiled kindly at her. "Perhaps, someday, you will return to us, Mamselle?" Christine looked at him sadly but she couldn't say no to him. "Perhaps one day, Monsieur Reyer. For now, though, I must speak with Madam Giry. Excuse me." She curtsied again and rushed off of the stage. A single thought had plagued her mind. Mme. Giry had said that Erik was no longer at the Opera Populaire. Where had he gone?

'Angel of Music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory.'

Aaralyn put her hair up into a bun in the back of her head so that she could apply her stage makeup. It was heavy and sometimes uncomfortable but for some strange reason the men that visited her club found it arousing. She put on her red lipstick and let her hair fall around her face.

…perfect…

She smiled her coy smile and batted her eyelashes. She really hoped that the stranger would be there tonight, unless, of course he wasn't real at all. Her mother's voice echoed in her head.

"You're almost like a fallen Angel, my dearest Angelique."

"Mama, if you could see me now, you'd die…again." She said sadly to herself. Then her mother's voice faded to her father's.

"Angelique, you are my pride and joy, never forget that."

…yeah, your pride and joy. I was until that little viper showed up…

Aaralyn shook her head. "I shouldn't think like that, it wasn't her fault papa loved her more then me." She closed her eyes and sprayed on a little bit of perfume. She opened her eyes again and began to tease her hair into the perfect curl. Aaralyn smiled and spun in a little circle, letting her skirt flow around her.

…please don't be a dream…

She couldn't help but plead silently that the man she'd seen last night would come back. Someone knocked softly on the door. "Aaralyn, Rachael's back…she's been hurt."

…son of a bitch…

"Take me to her, Michelle." Aaralyn followed the girl out the door and down a flight of stairs. The building she owned was three stories tall, it was a little rickety but it was a roof over their heads and it brought income. She followed Michelle into a room where Rachael was being tended to by Mme. Tawny. Annabelle Tawny was an older woman but she'd been something of a nurse and a midwife in her youth. She worked for Aaralyn and was one of her best friends. "What happened Annabelle?" Aaralyn said softly as she knelt beside Rachael's bed. She had terrible bruises on her face and shiner on her left eye. Rachael seemed to be unconscious.

"She turned up nearly five minutes ago in the dance hall, Lyn. She was sputtering something about the Sailor from last night." Aaralyn sighed angrily and brushed a bit of Rachael's hair out of her face. "I told her to be careful. Those men will prey on girls like her. Will she live?" "Of course she will, but it'll take some time for her to heal properly." Aaralyn nodded and stood up. "It's nearly time to start getting things up and ready. Annabelle, take care of Rachael will you?" The old woman nodded. "Of course I will." Aaralyn put her hand on Annabelle's and squeezed it gently. She turned on her heel and left the room. There was a crowd of girls outside, the younger one's mostly. When Nicole spoke her voice was a nervous whisper. "Is she okay Lyn?" "Is she dying?" Michelle spoke up. "No, she's not dying. But take this as a lesson girls. Never leave with any of the men that come here,

…believe me I know…

It's a sure fire way to end up dead on the streets or like Rachael in there. Hear me?" The girls all nodded and stood rooted to the spot. "Well, why are you all standing around? We open in an hour! Scoot!" She shooed them away and when she was alone Aaralyn leaned against the wall and raised her hand to her forehead. Rachael almost died that day. It was, however, the girl's on foolishness.

…that's not true, I should have been watching her. Not staring after some dark figure in the shadows…

Frustrated with herself, Aaralyn walked briskly down the steps to the dance hall. "Okay, who's up tonight?" She called out to her girls.

Christine went into the ballet practice room and saw that it was deserted, except for Meg. The blonde girl was getting in one last practice before the performance. That was Meg, always the perfectionist. "Well, aren't you just the Prima Ballerina?" Christine said, with mock-sarcasm. Meg jumped, and turned around. She stuck her tongue out. "Well, someone had to take the limelight. We haven't had a Prima Donna grace this Opera House since you." That took Christine a little by surprise. "Really? Not even Carlotta?" Meg shook her head and walked to her friend. "She left, after Piangi died." Christine's eyes widened.

After the night she left with Raoul she hadn't looked back. All news of the Opera House made her sick to her stomach. She missed it all but it terrified her greatly. "Piangi died?" Meg looked at her oddly. "You didn't know? Christine, he was found backstage after…the chandelier fell. He had the Punjab lasso around his neck." Christine gasped and threw her hands to her mouth. "Erik…" Meg nodded and looked at the floor. Meg was surprised that Christine didn't know. I guess whatever transpired that night frightened her so badly that she just didn't want any contact with her old life. It was understandable.

"Meg, do you know what happened to him? Do you…know where Erik went after…" Meg looked at her sadly. "Christine, I went down into the catacombs in search for you. When I didn't find you I was terrified something had happened to you. Then…I found…" She sighed. "It'd be easier to show you, follow me." Meg grasped Christine's hand and led her to their dormitory. Once inside, Meg closed the door and locked it. She crossed to her own chest and opened it. "Meg, what are you showing me?" Christine asked, softly. Meg was throwing things to one side and finally she found it. The white mask she had recovered from the catacombs. Her mother didn't even know she still had it. She held it out for Christine.

"Oh…" Christine whispered. She took the mask with trembling hands. She ran her fingertips over it and the cold porcelain sending a chill up her spine.

'In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came. That voice which calls to me and speaks my name.'

"What?" Meg whispered. "Nothing. It's nothing Meg." She looked at her friend. "Do you mind…if… I need some time." Meg nodded and quickly left the room. Christine sat down on her bed, the mask in her lap. She let tears fall onto it's white surface. "Erik…" She cried his name softly.

'Those who have seen your face draw back in fear. I am the mask you wear …'

It was true, she was a mask for his musical genius. Without him she'd most likely still be here, a nameless chorus girl. "And Raoul would still be alive." She closed her eyes, seeing the face of her husband. "Raoul, I miss you so much." She let fresh tears fall. His voice echoed in her head.

'No more talk of darkness, forget these wide-eyed fears. I'm here, nothing can harm you - my words will warm and calm you.'

She smiled at her own memory. She could see them perfectly in her mind, the two of them on the roof of the opera house.

'Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry your tears. I'm here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you…'

She hugged the mask close to her without realizing it and sang with her own memory.

'Say you love me every waking moment, turn my head with talk of summertime…Say you need me with you, now and always… promise me that all you say is true - that's all I ask
of you…'

She heard, then, something that both frightened and excited her. A darker, more haunted voice.

'Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime… Lead me, save me from my solitude…'

"Erik…" she whispered aloud to herself. She sat up and frantically looked around the room. No one, but then again, Erik was not one for appearing to her immediately. "Erik?" No answer. She stood up, the mask still clutched at her breast, and began to search the room for any signs of her Angel of Music. Frustrated she looked at the mask and threw it back into Meg's chest. She sang bitterly.

'And do I dream again? For now I find the Phantom of the Opera is there - inside my mind!'

Aaralyn sat on the table top in front of a business man named Daniel, he bought her a drink and she was hooking him, fast. Michelle was singing on stage behind her. Aaralyn had to admit, she was amazing.

…almost sounds like….

She shook her head and smiled at Daniel. Now was not the time to be thinking about Little Lotte.

'Oh, I've been taken, I've been hung up, I get down and start it over again. I've been open and I've been closed like a book. And burned down like a written sin, I just thought you should know, my darling. So, if you wanna play dirty, darling, I'm gonna win. I'm not a virgin anymore.'

Quite an interesting pick for such a little girl. Aaralyn placed her hand on Daniel's face and looked over his shoulder at the table where she'd seen that man. He wasn't there. It seemed to her he wasn't coming. She took the drink that Daniel offered her and realized she was breaking her own rules. She never drank while she worked. It could get you killed.

…one can't hurt…

Daniel laughed. "Good, I thought you weren't going to take my offer." Aaralyn smiled and gave him a coy look. "How could I resist?" He laughed at her again and she looked at Amanda, one of the older girls and gave her a signal. They had a system here, Aaralyn usually didn't sleep with any of their costumers unless necessary. She normally hooked men for some of the older girls. Amanda was only two years younger the Aaralyn but she looked at least five years older. Amanda walked over to the table and laced her arm around Daniel's neck. "Daniel, this is my good friend Amanda. She'll take care of you for the night." She smiled at Amanda and walked off. Aaralyn crossed the hall to the door where they're semi-personal guard stood and made sure people paid when they wanted entry. "Jimmy, there was a man here last night. He had a hood over his face. Did you see him?"

Jimmy thought for a moment and shook his head. "No, darlin', doesn't ring a bell. Sorry." she sighed and smiled at him. "That's alright, Jimmy. If you do see a man looking like that, tell me will you?" He nodded "Aye, I'll keep me eyes open." "Thanks." She walked over to April, their oldest girl, 27. "April? Will you close up tonight? I don't feel really well, I've got a headache coming on." "Sure thing, hon." April said and handed Aaralyn a bottle of alcohol. Aaralyn smiled at her. "Thanks April. I need it." April nodded and went back to the man she had been talking to.

Aaralyn ascended the stair case to her bedroom on the third floor and opened the bottle of absinthe. She wondered how they'd got it. She supposed Jimmy had connections in Europe. She could still hear Michelle downstairs.

'Hell I've been divided, out of my mind and reinvented again. I've been ignited and then uninvited. So, honey, you break it up I'm gonna put it back together again.'

Jimmy hadn't seen him. Maybe he was all in her mind.

…you're losing it Angelique…

"I know, I know." She shut the door behind her, locking it, and began to drink. Maybe she'd see her mystery man in her dreams. "Goodnight, my someone."