White Roses

Disclaimer: All-time creativity low on disclaimer front. Standard disclaimers apply. This does not belong to me. All clear? Let's move on, shall we?

Perseverance

Awaking the next morning, Erik found the sadness had left him and in its place there was a hurt anger and sense of resentment. Could nobody tell that he adored Antoinette? Obviously far more than this Lucas Giry - Erik had convinced himself that the man probably saw Antoinette only as a ballet rat, one of many, simply somebody to have a bit of fun with. It burned him up to think of anybody treating Antoinette like that. His dilemma now was how to convince Antoinette herself of this; how to convince her that he, Erik, surely loved her far more than anybody else ever could.

Erik had had no experience with love before, and so found himself racking his brains for inspiration on what to do. He knew that she was aware that their friendship was perhaps a little stranger and maybe therefore closer than most, but Erik was intelligent enough to realise that that fact alone would not help his cause. Perhaps if I were to tell her? Erik pondered the notion, but eventually tossed it aside. He did not want her to come to him out of guilt; rather out of choice. Erik fully intended to make that choice an easy one and was quite determined to come out on top. The only problem was how exactly he would do that. Obviously, Erik thought, I must show her that I believe her to be the most wonderful person. Perhaps I should give her something ...

He mulled over this idea for a time, wondering what Antoinette would consider to be the greatest gift. Already he had given her several more portraits - some of just her face, others of her practising ballet, still more in which she was simply standing, but all exquisitely drawn. Erik quickly discarded any thought of more artwork. It must be something truly special. Thinking hard, he tried to recall the dreams that Antoinette had confided to him during her visits. Dreams of seeing the world, she had said, a dream of marrying a prince - although she had quickly declared that particular one silly and unrealistic. But finally, Erik remembered the one she always came back to.

"Do you know what I would like - more than anything in the world?" Antoinette asked.

"Pray, do tell," Erik replied, watching the girl absently twirl a strand of hair around her index finger.

"Please, don't laugh," she said, earnestly, "but I would so much love to be a lead ballerina in the opera!"

"I think that you would make a fine lead," Erik replied, solemnly.

Antoinette smiled. "You really are too kind. But it would be wonderful, no? Imagine - perhaps I shall audition if Amandine were to leave?"

Erik nodded and watched as Antoinette's eyes took on a glassy look - the expression they always took when she was daydreaming. She looked the picture of contentment.

Erik's face slowly broke into a smile.

x-x-x-x

"And again, girls! Élodie! Point those toes! And one! Two! Three! Fo- What did I say about those toes, Mademoiselle d'Arcis!"

Antoinette bit her lip in concentration as the corps de ballet spun and leapt as one, mainly concentrating on staying out of the way of Madame Leblanc's critical eye. Fortunately, in the back row, she remained fairly inconspicuous, although she considered her placement unfortunate at the same time. Antoinette hated being relegated to stand in the shadows and simply blend in with the rest of the ballerinas. The corps drew back as one and Antoinette sighed softly as she watched Amandine begin her pas de deux. Someday, she thought. Maybe someday that will be me.

They went through their dance several more times before Madame Leblanc was satisfied and allowed them to leave. The dancers all went off in different directions in their own small cliques but Antoinette took her time. She was not surprised at all to find a certain young man behind her when she turned around.

"Why, good evening, Luc," she smiled.

"Good evening, Antoinette," Lucas replied, greeting her with a soft kiss on the cheek. "Your rehearsal appeared to go well."

"Yes - at the rate Madame Leblanc has worked us, we have been ready for opening night weeks ahead of schedule."

Lucas grinned and placed an arm around her shoulders. "What do you say we go to the roof? It will be far easier to have a discussion there, no?"

Antoinette opened her mouth to reply, but the words never came.

Everybody in the theatre turned their heads as one to the direction of Amandine Vereneux's scream.

x-x-x-x

Erik, hiding in the flies, looked down with satisfaction on the hubbub. His plan had gone off without a hitch - not that he had ever doubted it would in the first place. He had taken full advantage of his limited resources and he swelled with morbid pride as the result lay sprawled down before him.

Erik had learnt but one useful skill during his years with the gypsy fair - the art of ventriloquism. The keeper of the tent opposite him was a master ventriloquist and it had fascinated the boy. Yearning for any form of intellectual stimulation, Erik had imitated the man during the night when the gypsy slept and could not whip him. He had proven a natural. Now, finally, he had a reason to put his skill to use.

Throwing his voice down the scattered corridors below the flies, Erik had called Amandine. She had followed his voice blindly - right over the patch of false floor Erik had prepared. The lead ballerina was now sprawled ungracefully, clutching a rapidly swelling ankle. Her cries had brought what seemed like most of the opera house running to her aid as Erik looked on amusedly.

x-x-x-x

Antoinette and Lucas followed the crowd out of curiosity, finally coming upon the sorry sight of Amandine. Madame Leblanc was kneeling down beside the girl as her star wept into her shoulder. Antoinette winced as she took in the injury - it looked very painful. Nobody could make any sense of what Amandine was saying, but eventually she managed to recover enough to slowly explain the circumstances.

"It was so strange!" she hiccoughed. "I heard a voice - it called me - it was everywhere - and then I fell ..."

Some of the bystanders exchanged confused glances before looking back at the distraught girl. She had begun to weep again, while the rest watched awkwardly. When Madame Leblanc helped her to stand, it became quite apparent that Amandine's ankle was badly sprained - she yelped whenever she tried to put weight on it. Suddenly, Madame Leblanc gasped.

"Oh, dear Lord! What of the dance?"

Amandine's face turned white at this and she abruptly stopped her noisy sobs; now the tears simply leaked down her face. Antoinette inhaled sharply and felt Lucas's grip on her shoulder tighten slightly. She knew that there was no hope that Amandine's ankle would heal before opening night, less than two weeks away. She also knew that there was no understudy - Amandine had always been too proud to entertain the idea of having one.

"You could do it."

Antoinette snapped her head up as the voice whispered in her ear. She frowned at Lucas.

"Luc, did you say that?"

"Why, no, Antoinette," Lucas replied, also frowning. "Why? Are you feeling alright?"

"Oh, yes, do not trouble yourself about my health. It must have been my imagination."

x-x-x-x

Late at night, Erik slipped out from the catacombs once more. Cautiously, he made his way through the opera house until he reached Madame Leblanc's room. Listening at the keyhole, he quickly discerned that the elderly lady was sleeping, her breathing soft and steady. Not wishing to wake her sooner than necessary, Erik slowly pushed the door open; it was not locked and squeaked only a little. He padded softly across the room and found a suitable shadowy corner next to the washstand. Calling on ventriloquist skills, Erik began to throw his voice around the room.

"Geraldine ..." came his voice from the armoire. The ballet mistress stirred in her sleep but did not wake.

"Geraldine ..." The voice was more urgent now, whispering from the foot of the bed. Madame Leblanc rolled over on her side, still sleeping. Erik took a deep breath and prepared for his final call.

"Geraldine!"

Madame Leblanc's eyes snapped open and she turned her head this way and that, trying to identify the speaker who had shouted her name. Erik smirked in the shadows, noting with satisfaction the terrified expression on her face. This should makes things much easier, he thought.

"Who - Who's there?" the old woman stuttered, clutching her sheets to her bosom. "What d-do you want with m-me?"

"My identity is unimportant," Erik called, now from the small washstand. "But my purpose is anything but."

"What do you want?"

"I offer you a favour," Erik said, throwing his voice back to the armoire. "You are in need of a prima ballerina."

"Y-Yes ... how did you know?"

"I can tell you where to find your new star."

"Who are you?" Madame Leblanc was looking panicky now. "Leave me alone!"

"Patience, Geraldine," Erik said, a little lazily, now. "As I said, you already have your soloist. Her name is Antoinette Baudeux."

"Wh-What?"

"I suggest you obey these instructions." Erik's voice spoke right next to the bed, now. "Failure to comply could result in much worse things than an injured ankle."

To make his point, Erik let the words hang before reaching the tall candle in its stand that the ballet mistress had lit. He deftly knocked it from the table beside the washstand, noting with satisfaction the sharp sound of it snapping. The flame went out immediately - the floor was damp from recent rains leaking through the roof and was quite impossible to catch alight.

"I will watch the rehearsal tomorrow," Erik called from the doorway. "Antoinette will dance the lead."

x-x-x-x

The sound of the chattering ballet rats reminded Antoinette strongly of twittering birds. Since Amandine's accident, there had been much discussion on the future of their dance. Some had grudgingly resigned themselves to assuming that their performance would be cut from the opera while others hoped and prayed that they would be cast in Amandine's place. Antoinette herself had reluctantly joined the pessimists, but had whispered a secret prayer that night that she might fill in. She was determined, however, not to get her hopes up. She knew that the higher they were, the more painful it would be to have them dashed.

The corps de ballet were scattered around backstage. Madame Leblanc was yet to arrive, and Antoinette was considering simply going back to the dormitories. However this option was denied her when Lisette quickly pulled her into a circle of girls all listening to Élodie tell some sort of story about the night before. Antoinette had no desire to hear it, but the rest of the girls made it quite impossible for her to leave.

"Really? You did not hear it?" Élodie said, mouth open in mock surprise. "Well, I was already lying awake, I suppose."

"What was it, Élodie?" asked little Madeleine, face eager.

"It genuinely was the strangest thing," Élodie continued, flicking her dark hair over her shoulder, enjoying her moment in the spotlight. "There was a voice from Madame Leblanc's room and it seemed to move. It was hard to hear, of course, as it would be, but it just sounded so strange!"

There was a sudden spread of murmuring throughout the throng, but nobody could question Élodie anymore as Madame Leblanc herself made an appearance. Today, however, she was not her normal, tidy self. Instead, her face was white, her grey hair falling loose already and she walked as if she expected to be ambushed any moment. Antoinette frowned at this, wondering if the ballet mistress had heard the voice Élodie spoke of as well, before scorning herself and dismissing the thought. Of course there was no voice, she thought. It's just another silly tall tale.

"Girls!" Madame Leblanc called, shakily. The group of ballerinas reluctantly abandoned their conversation and went to listen to their teacher. They watched her in curiosity as she took a few deep breaths.

"Are you ill, Madame Leblanc?" Claire, an acquaintance of Isabelle's asked.

"No, no, not ill, my dear, thank you for your concern, though," gabbled the ballet mistress. "I am just under quite a lot of stress at the moment."

A murmur of understanding swept through the group, but halted quickly under an icy glare from Madame Leblanc. Antoinette relaxed a little - this was the woman she knew.

"Due to Mademoiselle Vereneux's unfortunate accident," Madame Leblanc went on, "we shall have to quickly train a new soloist."

At this she licked her lips quickly and her pale blue eyes darted around the theatre, almost as if she were looking for somebody.

"Will we audition for this, or have you already picked one of us?"

Madame Leblanc inhaled sharply. "I am sorry, Élodie, but yes, I have already made a selection."

Antoinette felt her heart beating wildly and she vaguely wondered if anybody else could hear it. All rational thought was roughly shoved out of her mind, the one hopeful part of herself overpowering everything. Oh, let it be me! Please ... let it be me! She didn't actually hear the name Madame Leblanc called out, but suddenly noticed that all eyes were on her.

"I'm sorry?" she asked, clearing her throat and blushing a little.

"Antoinette!" Madame Leblanc called sharply. "I do assume that you would like to dance? Or shall I simply ask somebody else?"

Emotion flooded back into Antoinette's body. A small smile quickly became a wide grin as she nodded enthusiastically. She barely noticed the jealous glares of some of the other girls, only concentrating on not whooping and jumping for happiness.

"Good, then." Madame Leblanc was all businesslike again. "Well, girls? What are you doing here? Why are you not warmed up?"

x-x-x-x

When Antoinette visited Erik that night, it was all he could do not to immediately tell her exactly what he had done. No, that will have to wait, Erik reminded himself. He had decided to withhold the truth until opening night - after Antoinette had obtained her dream. But it made him smile all the same to see her so excited. She barely stopped chattering or twirling around his lair throughout the entirety of her visit. Erik didn't mind in the least. That boy will never be able to make her this happy, he thought.

Reviewer replies - you guys make my day :)

Greatest, you know what - I feel sorry for him, too. But - yipes! I'd better get to it. I don't want to die ... ;)

MidnightPrincess - me too. No doubt about it ;)

Mel, thank you! You make me feel all toasty inside - which is pretty helpful considering that winter is coming ...

Birdie num num, it is ignored, is it not? Glad you like it!

DarkSecretLove, thanks! The one bad thing about this ... everyone seems to know the outcome! At least it'll be fun getting to it ;)

Malena, don't we all? I wasn't sure about doing a phic that suggestedErik/Madame Giry, but I'm glad that people seem to like the idea.

HPROXMYSOX, I'm glad actually planning the story paid off, if you think it fits together well :) At least this means that I can spit out chapters fairly quickly, knowing exactly what will happen in each one ... :whistles: (By the way, HP 'rox MY sox' as well!)

Gracie, he is a bit confused, isn't he? Poor thing.

Erik's Music Of The Night, thank you! High praise - and I am writing, I swear!