Chapter XI- You Know Who I Am
The week ended much too soon to be believed, and Meg's wedding had approached.
Meg heard them playing the tune. Her mother pulled the veil over Meg's head and led to the entrance of the church. Madame Giry, the matron of honor, gathered the train of Meg's dress, and nodded at the ushers, who opened the door for the Bride and the Matron of Honor.
Everyone in the vicinity stood and looked at Meg gliding down the aisle. It seemed to take an eternity to get to the Emperor, who was beaming like a fool at the Alter.
He reached out a hand to Meg when she had stepped into range. She slipped her fingers into his. He was not wearing gloves.
Erik always wore gloves.
No, she would not think of Erik on her wedding day. For goodness sakes, this was supposed to be the best day of her life. So why did she want to throw herself into the Seine?
Well, it really was all Erik's fault. He made that prediction to her mother all those years ago, given the Emperor her name, be mad about the engagement, kiss her, and not be in the least guilty? So it really was his fault. Meg was just pawn of social alliances- Opera Ghost style. Now, enough about him. Meg needed concentrate on the sacred vows she would be vowing.
So the Bride and Groom knelt in front of the Alter and the priest, who began the ceremony- in Latin. Meg had never learned Latin! He spoke French, why couldn't he speak French during the wedding?
The Emperor was looking at her again. Goodness, she felt silly with him looking at her like that. It felt like she had something on her face.
And they received communion, and all too soon it was time for the vows. The Priest blabbed on in Latin and then there was a pause. "I do," the Emperor said, in French. Well, at least the Emperor spoke Latin. They could attend church services.
She wondered if Erik could speak Latin. He did have a great number of books.
"I…" Meg said, when the Priest had finished, or so she had hoped. "I do."
It sealed her fate. Erik had not come to rescue her, as she had secretly hoped. She had been too meek- she should have broken off the wedding to the Emperor when she had the chance.
The Priest blabbed some more in Latin, before finally, blessedly, pronouncing in French- "By the power invested in me, I pronounce you man…"
"STOP!" A voice came, it seemed to come from everywhere, yet nowhere. And Meg knew the owner of the voice all too well.
"Erik!" she cried, taking her hand out of the Emperor's.
A black figure stood on the organ bench in the balcony. His cloak seemed to float around him and a white mask covered his face. It wasn't a dream- Erik had really come!
"Do not," Erik said, coolly, "marry them."
"You, sir!" The Emperor called up to Erik. "Who are you?"
"Me, sir?" Erik said, curtly. He was not very polite to aristocrats and royalty, especially foppish ones. "I am the Phantom of the Opera!" Behind him, the organ blasted a piece of 'Don Juan Triumphant.'
The Emperor recognized the 'Ghost', and drew his sword. "Why are you here?"
"I am here to claim Miss Giry."
"You can't have her, Monster!" The Emperor yelled, and came to a stance of battle, pushing Meg behind him with his free hand.
The 'monster' insult had the desired effect on Erik. He let out a wild yell of fury and jumped off the balcony.
The guests were, not surprisingly, ushered out, and a few screamed about chandeliers. The Emperor's body guards were dismissed quickly and told to help with the guests.
In the meantime, the two men circled each other, both with their swords drawn. Erik had something tied to the handle of his sword- whatever it was, it was pink.
They both rushed at each other at the same time, and steel clashed together. Erik threw the Emperor's blade off of his and managed a good swipe at his cheek. However, the Emperor dodged.
They really had no idea they were being sacriligions. They seemed to forget they were in a church.
"What's this?" The Emperor cried during a parry. He pulled the pink thing from Erik's sword.
"How dare you!" Meg said. "That's Erik's!"
"On the contrary," the Emperor said, laughing at Erik, who looked (dare she say it?) embarrassed. "Lady, he has stolen your hair ribbon and used it as a love token to protect him in battle!"
Was it really? Now that the Emperor mentioned it, it was Meg's ribbon. But Erik had not stolen it; Meg had probably dropped it somewhere. Hopefully.
"Are you in love with her, Phantom?" The Emperor said, mean spiritedly. "Do you really think she'd choose you, when she could have the world?"
Erik's eyes lit up a powerful shade of yellow, dropped his sword, and ran insanely at the Emperor.
He clasped his hands around the man's throat and squeezed, relishing in it.
"Erik, oh God, stop it!" Meg screamed at him. Erik seemed not to hear her.
The Punjab Lasso was once again around an aristocrat's throat and secured in wrought iron (then the portcullis, now the spiraling stairs up to the Chorus Balcony) and a girl in white crying and pleading for Erik to stop.
"Choose!" Erik yelled at Meg. "Your King or your Angel! Choose carefully because someone will die either way!"
"Erik, please!" she begged, weeping, knowing exactly what Erik ment.
If she chose the Emperor, Erik would kill both the Emperor and himself. If she chose Erik, he'd kill the Emperor anyway.
"CHOOSE!" he screamed.
Deciding, she strode towards Erik, and calmly took his mask off. The Emperor blanched at Erik's unmasked face, and Erik tightened the lasso's grip.
She smiled at him through her tears, and kissed him. It was like fireworks… like her soul had exlploded into million tiny pieces and clung on to any part of Erik her soul could find. "I choose you," she said, solfly, kissing all over his face, forehead, everywhere, before they kissed again. Erik cradled Meg's face so gently it was unbelievable. It was like he was afraid she would break.
But it broke away all too soon, because Erik screamed and Meg realized Erik was not holding the Punjab Lasso anymore.
The Emperor had stabbed Erik in the back, quite literally. He pulled out his sword and stabbed him again.
"NO!" Meg screamed, as Erik gasped and fell to the floor.
Erik had closed his eyes, and sweated in pain. Doing the only thing she could think of to calm him, she sang, "Erik I love you," into his ear. He tried to move his hand, but Meg told him to lay still.
Turning to the Emperor, her face melted into pure hatred. The Emperor had the strangest expression on his face- it was like a man seeing just how capable he was, and he liked it.
"Meg," he said, looking like the fool Meg knew he was. "Thank you for saving my life." He took her hands and tried to tow her away from Erik. "You are finally safe from him… I have avenged Monsieur Andre, and have secured your safety…"
"I didn't save your life!" Meg said, disgusted. "And I don't know what you were told, but I was in no danger with Erik!" She pushed him away. "I can't believe you! You are the most spoiled, selfish man that ever was born!" He staggered back and looked confusedly at Meg.
"Meg, dear…" he said, looking to grab her hands again. "What is wrong? What have I done?"
"What have you done? You have killed the man that I love!" She said, screeching at him, and pulled her hands out of reach. "Leave us!"
The Emperor's heart broke in two, then in half again. "Meg," he said, crying a bit. He left the chapel, perhaps for good.
Meg turned back to Erik, bent down, and ripped up her wedding dress of her dreams, all the way up to her knees, and bandaged his wounds with her ruined skirt.
Okay guys. I know that this might come as a disappointment that the Emperor was not slaughtered, but he actually ended up with a much worse punishment, IMO.
Oh, and yes, that 'Erik I love you' was supposed to be in tune to the 'Christine I love you' at the end of the musical.
Two more chapters until the end!
:Wipes away a tear.:
