Chapter VI- No Walking In Shadows
"Can you believe it, Andre?" Firmin said, throwing down the latest note from the Ghost. "The man was thrown out of this Opera House by an angry mob, and still he returns and demands things that are not his!"
The distressed manager collapsed in his winged chair. Andre handed him the envelope, and Firmin fanned himself with it. "It is not to be borne, Andre. We cannot go on taking this man's demands! He will sink us!"
Andre, ever the more patient man than his impatient comrade, rang for lemonade. Firmin drank both glasses. Andre just rolled his eyes.
"Firmin, you know that the only way to stop the Ghost is to…"
"Declare that I have gone insane?"
"No. The only way the Ghost is stopped is when he is dead." Firmin shuddered at this.
"How would we kill a Ghost?"
"He is man, Firmin," Andre said, taking a sip of tea that he had ordered as replacement for the lemonade. "If it is done in the right way, he will die."
"How do you suggest we do that?" Firmin said, disgusted with Andre's suggestion. "Remember that the police failed!"
"Well, how about in a different way?" Firmin, finishing his drama act, looked at Andre. Andre, sensing that Firmin did not exactly get what he was hinting at, continued. "Maybe we could take someone away that he loves, and therefore make him feel so lonely that he will emerge, and then we will have him."
"But who will we take away from him? Christine has gone and run off with that Viscount fellow..." Firmin stopped. "Let me see that!" He grabbed the letter out of Andre's hands.
My Dear Managers; it read,
I am glad to inform you that I am most pleased with the dancing rehearsals. Your wise choice to put Marguerite Giry as the head dancer was surprising, and I am glad to see that you are finally coming to reason. I'm sure you will see that Marguerite Giry is more than competent. In fact, she is quite an accomplished singer, as well as a wonderful dancer. I peg her to be the newest Elissa in 'Hannibal'.
However, it is my displeasure to write that you have STILL not paid my salary. (Twenty thousand francs, if you have forgotten). I am sure this is an oversight, and I will be expecting my salary forthwith. If you forget again, I will not promise you that your lives will be safe.
Yours, etc,
Opera Ghost
"Well this is all the ammo we need against him!" Firmin said, after reading it. "Little Meg Giry has caught his eye!"
"Exactly," Andre said, sliding into his seat behind the wooden desk. "If we could somehow extract her away from him, dispose of her somehow…"
"We would get rid of the Opera Ghost!" they said together. They toasted to it, and clashed the glasses together, downing another flute of champagne.
The Emperor came again that day, Meg noticed. After another grueling practice (Erik had luckily given her the day off) for Faust, the Emperor approached her.
"Mademoiselle Giry," he said, extending his hand to help her down the stage stairs (she was very capable of doing this on her own, but saying this would be suicide), which she took, and descended down the stairs as ladylike as she could. Sadly, this was not very lady like. She tripped. Luckily, the Emperor caught her.
"Meg," he said, his strong arms catching her. Why can't Erik be this dashing? "Are you alright? May I send someone to fetch you a refreshment?"
She smiled up at him, and lowered herself into one of the Opera Seats. "No, I'm fine." Had did he just call her 'Meg'? She thought she heard him say 'Meg'!
Why didn't Erik ever call her Meg? It was always Marguerite! It really, really annoyed her.
More importantly, why was she thinking about Erik when there was a very nice Emperor waiting on her, hand and foot? "Actually," She said, looking at him with the sweetest, most innocent look that she had, "I think lemonade would be wonderful,"
The Emperor escorted Meg all over town, showing her where he was staying, asking her what plays she liked, and other polite questions. She was just dying for the formality to stop.
After their rendezvous, the Emperor returned to the Manager's office. "She is enchanting!" He declared. "If I were the man for her, I would consider myself the luckiest man alive!"
"Ah, Monsieur," Firmin said, cooing to the Emperor. "The lady is in peril!" The Emperor blanched, the dauntless knight coming out within him.
"What threatens the lady?" He said. Firmin and Andre suspected he would be sharpening his sword soon.
"She is being pursued by the Opera Ghost, who is madly in love with her! If he takes her to his lair, he will rape her, and keep her as his slave!" Firmin had no notion if the Opera Ghost would actually do this, or if the Ghost was even in love with Little Meg Giry; he just needed to prod the Emperor into action.
"The knave!" The Emperor cried. He drew a rather impressive dagger out from his boot. Ah, well, an Emperor must always be armed. "The scoundrel! I will slice him in two, for the safety of poor Meg's reputation!"
"Thank you," Andre said, sincere for probably the first time in the conversation. "For rescuing our dancer. We fret about her safety all the time! Meg will be very happy to have you as her husband."
"Gentlemen, Gentlemen!" a voice from nowhere bounced around the room, and Andre paled. "Do you really think I would rape a child? Believe me when I tell you, I too, have morals and limits. I am very offended you would insinuate such a thing, my Managers."
And as quickly as it came, it was gone.
Erik was furious. He jumped down one of his trapdoors, and into the control center of the Torture Room. He landed on the ground, on all fours, like a cat. His cloak was billowing around him, like devils wings. How dare they? How dare they say that he was abusing his relationship- nonexistent relationship, really- With Marguerite! He was a French gentleman and very proud of it, thank you very much.
As if he had feelings for Marguerite. As if. And to prove it, he moved out of the Control Room and into his Music Room, where he kept all of his parchment, ink and quills. Sitting down, he wrote a few lines. All he could muster, and wrote 'Little Mariette Jammes' on the envelope.
It was lies, all of it. However, the fantasy of never seeing Marguerite, Little Jammes, and the Managers was just too wonderful to pass up.
Author Note- Okay, sorry for the long wait. Actually, I really like this chapter. I don't know why. I think it's rather silly. Or maybe it's because I really like the review song this chapter. Well, I like it. I hope you do too! Woot!
Okay, to clear up some things about… stuff:
Meg didn't open the mirror the second time, because Erik's mirror is his door to his house, actually. Do you just open someone else's door without the owner's permission and waltz right in? (She's done it before, but only under extreme circumstances.)
Also, notice that Erik is more nervous about Meg and his relationship with her. Good sign!
Oh, and maybe you guys should be a bit worried about the Emperor. He's the Raoul in the fic.
-Meg waltzes in-
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