A/N: bear with me a while yet in "the Phantom". I promise, Erik will emerge finally. And if you are wondering; this might end up a touch of E / OC, but not especially. And do not look for the Chagnys to appear—personally R/C was perfect for me, and that way it will remain.
I own this not.
Cheers!
Chapter Seven: Eine Kleine Nacht
The Phantom was poling the boat across the vast, glassy surface of the lake when he first heard it—the soft, unmistakable sound of his piano. He paused a moment, gliding forward silently, to listen.
He had forgotten the sound of it. The fact of it struck him as surprising as the delicately played notes leaned close, murmuring, twining familiar fingers round his soul, enticing. He listened critically for a moment, turning the pole idly in his hands. The upper register was played well by deft yet hesitant fingers, skilled hands to unsure notes. The supporting chords were bare and sketchy by comparison, so that the music lacked the proper body, but nonetheless he smiled, pleased.
He had not known Raian was familiar with the instrument. Yet he had to be, to wring even the chords he did with his left arm broken so. Slowly the Phantom resumed poling across the lake until his lair swung into view; the young man was bent over the keys, right hand cautiously tapping out the melody while his left labored to keep pace and tune. It was a pleasant, tender melody, the Phantom thought as he slowly pieced together what it would sound like, played to speed and with the proper underlying chords…
Abruptly he realized why it was so hauntingly familiar.
"How dare you!" Raian straightened abruptly in fear—he had thought himself still alone. Instead he turned to find an apparition of nightmare charging towards him.
Paper and music went flying as with a single sweep of his arm the Phantom scattered the notated scores in all directions. He seized Raian's collar in one fist and hauled him to his feet with inhuman strength. "How dare you play that!" he roared, and Raian's breath caught. He had never seen such unbounded rage as glared in his captor's green eyes. All the fires of Hell broke free, and the god Mar's war paled before this twisted fury. With a wordless snarl of rage the Phantom shoved him back, fiery anger in every line of his face.
"Never play it!" he yelled, and in a sudden powerful motion the piano bench went tumbling away, knocking candles askew. Raian's eyes were unequivocally locked on this man, this demon-thing, before him. The Phantom roared in anger, crashing both hands down on the piano in an unharmonious discord to the pure furious power in his voice.
Silver over thunder, Raian thought numbly. Wind and lightning.
The Phantom stood for a moment, shoulders heaving, fists pressed against the keys as the jarring notes began to fade away. His penetrating eyes were closed and he slumped forward slightly to take a long, slow breath. Abruptly he spun, hands coming up as if in petition to a pitiless, judgmental God, his face itself a twisted mask of despairing, anguished hate. Raian could see all the way through his clear green eyes down into the hellish depths of his tortured soul.
"Christine—why? WHY!" he screamed at the night, hands clenching into fists. "WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME!" Hell itself would weep at the anguish in that powerful, powerless voice, had it any pity. But it did not.
The echoes of the Phantom's wrenching cry faded away and he fell forward to his knees, masked face hidden in his hands. "Christine… why… why…" his whisper faded away into shuddering, unbroken silence.
