AN - Notice the similarities and differences between daughter and mother, is this because of Erik's upbringing? Hmmm…..

So here it is, the first chapter I've ever made that is original in about three years. Please tell me how it flows with the rest of the story... plus... this also means that updating is going to be slower... so please come back and check when you get the chance too. It may only be once a week now for awhile, the two jobs are slowing me down.

I also want to apply for a Beta reader. Someone who's not going to just say 'awesome job!' but will understand if I veto their opinion on something if I feel it's very intergral to the story. Someone who know's how to spell and the difference between 'then' and 'than'. Also, someone who's willing to get the edited version back to me within a day or two at most. I know that's alotta standards, but that's why I've never had a beta, I'm too demanding, lol

Last but not least, I want to do a poll! I wanna know who'd you guys would cast in each role so far in the story... I don't know why, but it's fun to see what YOU guys imagine when your reading compared to what I imagine... if there's a huge response and outcry for my casting, I'll post it. but so far, I'm still undecided about certain things.

NO review responses tonight... but I love you all and thanks so much for reviewing.

Chapter thirty-three: Beauty, the Night.

Silently the senses
abandon their defences . . .

Erik had taught Danielle that sound was a precious thing, ever since she was a small girl. It could be manipulated and distorted to make beautiful melodies, bended and blended to make provocative and enchanting rhythms, and trained to induce seductive and sweet choruses that flow like the Nile. It could also be used as a dangerous weapon, if not trained, blended, or manipulated properly. He proved this to her one day when she was fourteen, by pulling out an old acme London police whistle.

"This," he said, "This is what happens when sound does not follow it's proper path."

Danielle watched curiously as her father put the small piece of metal to his thin lips. She noticed his eyes grow bright, the way they only could when he was imparting knowledge on her. She watched his chest rise with breath, underneath the heavy burgundy cravat and vest. Suddenly, chaos of noise filled her every sense, so terrible that even though she tried, she could not take her mind to a different place. The shrill, broken, and distinct sound forced her to her knees, where she huddled in hopes to escape its wretched chord. She barely could tell when Erik had stopped, for the sound rang still within her brain, and it had echoed out and up from the small mansion underneath the opera.

She saw his immaculately kept shoes in front of her face, before anything else. His tall lanky legs bent at the knees and she was face to face with her own papa. Her hands were still covering her ears, trying to keep her mind from falling out. She looked to his face, which showed signs of grim understanding, but no remorse. It was a lesson that she knew she must learn, if she were to ever have a true bond with music the way her father did.

"That my dear…that, is what happens when sound does not follow the tide." He said stroking her face gently.

Danielle looked up to her father, who was completely engrossed in her well being. His all too serious amber eyes, bore deeply into hers, soothing her as chocolate would. He was inside her mind, checking to see if he caused any damage. She awarded him a smile for his efforts, which sufficed for him. He lifted her to her feet, and hugged her gently, resting his chin on the top of her head. She could hear his stead heart beat underneath his thick layers of clothing.

"I'm sorry Danielle, I thought it would…be a more retainable memory if it was without warning, perhaps I misjudged the severity of this lesson by using my own dour outlook." He murmured into her hair. Her hands pressed against his chest, the warmth and pureness of her papa's embrace soothed her.

"Did you put my maman through that?" she inquired.

He stiffened, like he always did at the mere mention of her mother, then relaxed deeper into the embrace of the young girl before answering.

"No, we never reached that aspect of her training, you've now officially surpassed your mother." He told her, letting his fingers trail loosely in her curls.

They stood their for moments, neither speaking, both caught up in memories that were not along the same path, but carried the same heavy silence.

"Papa?" she whispered quietly, and then pulled away so she could look up into his face. He looked down at her with those intense eyes that she wished she could mimic, how she longed for them to be as hers, instead of the combination of hazel (emerald green and brown so light it could be considered gold) that they were. She searched his face, his brow furrowed waiting for her patiently, the scarred and torn visage contorted in worry, a face that she had been born into loving.

"I never want to hear such noise again." She whispered, and placed her head back against his chest.

Unfortunately for Danielle, her keen sense of divine music had made her a connoisseur of sound, particularly the sound of song. As she walked down the hallway full of young and old singers, she felt as though she were fourteen again, trapped in a world of hateful noise, wishing she could curl up to the fetal position and hide away from the shrill e flats many women were squawking out.

Many other young women were giving her a curious eye, the kind that only a woman could give another woman. It was a way of sizing up your opponent, and often, it did not just have to do with the personality of the subject. Women, sometimes, could be crueler than the men they condemned. As a wise woman once told her, Men may be the brutes who go to war, but women are often the ones who cause it.

She was not use to this type of scrutiny; she had never been in the position where she was alone in a large group of people. Was this how the world acted towards it's fellow man? If it were, no wonder her father hated it and was determined to die alone. If she, a normal young woman could not merely walk down a hallway, without half of the other sex turning to gawk at her, and the half that was suppose to be her sisterhood, look at her with contempt, she could only imagine what her father's life had been like when he had spent it above ground.

She finally reached her place, at the very end of the line, before she pulled out the parchment that held the notes that were meant for her to be sung. It was an aria preformed by the angel, Katharine. In the song, she expresses her undying love for her human suitor Raghnall. It had a few bars in allegro, but for the most part, it was a slow and dramatic peace showing the virginal and pure Katharine, was ready to rid herself of her bonds to God, to be one soul with Raghnall. Her father would be beyond angry if he knew she was there, but completely mortified if she were to sing from his secretive opera.

She grew hesitant, what was she thinking doing there? Surely she did not think her own father so blatantly ignorant he would not notice her gone by now, even so, if she were to get the job, that would mean everyday she would be gone for hours on end, did she really think she would be able to sneak out, under her father's nose, or lack thereof? He was a crafty and amazingly talented genius, and she was way in over her head.

Slowly, she fluttered her eyes closed and began a small breathing exercise to calm her down and warm up her lungs. As she began to meditate in her surreal little realm, she felt someone shove into her.

Quickly she opened her eyes indignantly to find a striking young man walking away from her. His wavy blond hair fell in front of his blue eyes, when he turned back to give her a roguish grin. "Sorry!" he called back to her, his beautiful face turning once more towards the way he was running.

Danielle had never seen such beauty, her heart leapt to her chest and she found herself quite flustered. Looking around she noticed other young ladies staring after the stunningly handsome young man, and not paying any heed to her behaviors. Determined to get everything back under control, she closed her eyes once more. Slowly she began her breathing again; a constant cycle of deep breaths followed by short exhales. She began to isolate each voice that was singing around her, until she could only hear the notes she wanted to hear. Slowly, her father's song was humming in the back of her head, it's tingling sensations reaching out and flooding her being so she could hear it in it entirety. In her mind she sang with those chords, pronounced every word distinctly and constricted and molded her throat and diaphragm to the way they would be used. She could see herself onstage, as the desperate Katharine, torn between two sides of the ultimatum, to know true love without ever being able to consummate it, or to know that she would never be able to return to heaven after a short lifetime of true happiness.

Oh god above, here my desperate cries,
I love the mortal, I know no shame,
You created him, you said, in the image of thy self,
So why not to love him, would be to love you?

Carelessly she was bumped into again… her world beginning to fall apart. She tried to get out the last words before the entire realm collapsed.

I shall leave this heaven turned hell tonight
And face the hell of reality tomorrow
A heaven on earth, it shall forever be.
I shall pray to my new god, Raghnall…

"Miss! Miss, are you alright?" she heard off distantly, "Miss!" he called again.

Slowly she opened her eyes to see a young man a few years older than her looking down at her concerned. His green eyes, a shade lighter than her own, searched her soul, as her father would do. The feeling was quite different though, where she had always welcomed her father to search her mind with his eyes, to know her heart beyond words, she felt she was being invaded by this new stranger. Doing the only thing she could think of to stop him, she looked down modestly.

"I beg your pardon, I did not hear you monsieur." She quietly told him, realizing he held her arm and was rather close to her.

"That's all right, I just worried when you didn't forgive me the first time, I had bumped into you and you did not even notice. I guess you were too engrossed with thoughts of your audition perhaps?" he asked her, releasing her arm and bending slightly to try and regain eye contact. For Danielle, it wasn't that she didn't find him a handsome man, for his dark black hair was combined back from his face, his jaw set was more masculine than the first handsome boy she had seen. No it wasn't any of those things, it was something about him, and his intense eyes that threw her completely off balance.

"Thank you for your concern monsieur, it was rather considerate of you. I apologize for causing you worry, but I'm fine now." She told him, with a short smile.

She had been looking for him to smile at her, to tell her that it was all right and go on his merry way, but instead his frown set in deeper, his eyes searching even deeper. She felt panicked, with her back to the wall, terrified no one would save her.

"Next!" someone yelled from inside the doorway to the small room where the auditions were being held, it was a noise that Danielle had gotten used to, over the hour or two she had been standing in line. Nor could she tear away her eyes from the gaze of the man in front of her.

"Hey, you… girl! Are you here for the auditions or not?" the man called. This awoke Danielle from her trance. She looked over to the door and saw an auditioner waiting on her rather annoyed. She smiled apologetically to the man who was waiting, then back to the one in front of her. She noted he had backed away considerably from her so she may enter her audition.

"Good luck…" The dark man with no name called out to her as she entered the room. As she looked back at him, she saw him staring at her and the worry around the edges of her heart melted. He seemed like a genuinely concerned and sweet worker here within the opera, and for that she gave him a sincere smile.

"Thank you… I appreciate your kindness." She told him, before entering the room. The auditioner sneered at the dark young man and closed the door to the auditioning room.

Danielle entered the room and searched the faces of the people around her. There were only two men in the room, one of them being the man who went to the door for her. Both sat down in chairs in front of her. She looked to the piano that had no player behind it. The men were talking quietly amongst themselves, not really paying attention to the young woman in front of them.

"Monsieur's?" She asked, quietly, holding her music in front of her, her gloved fingers crumbling her father's music. Both men looked up to her, startled that she was speaking to them. She looked to the piano and back to the men, in hopes they could explain the process to her.

"Is this your first time?" one of them asked astounded. The other just leered at her, staring at her in a way she could not describe, for she had never seen such a look. He licked his lips at her and grinned stupidly, causing her to feel knots within her stomach. Where all men, other then her papa, such vile and awful creatures?

"Yes monsieur, it is." She told him. Hoping that would mean they would explain to her what she was suppose to do, other then just expecting her to know exactly how to please them. Run! Her mind screamed, drowning out all other sounds, get out while you can! But her feet were frozen in place. She vaguely heard what the man in front of her was telling her, suddenly she focused in on his voice.

"…A Capella, state the opera's name and the piece do you understand?" he asked her.

Too afraid to ask him to repeat himself, she nodded her head dumbly and handed him the score. The men looked it over indifferently and then looked back at her.

"The opera's title is ängel ramla, the composer is still unknown. This piece is called En Ängel välja."

With that, she began, and both men were lost amongst the background, as she once again became Katharine.

Who are you, strange
angel . . .?

( ' ) '
-

"Hello Adrienne," a voice carried from the shadows. He had been walking down the narrow corridor that lead to the corps' dressing area. His mother's office was located there, and that had been how he had started his mild fascination with scantily clad ballerinas. All he had wanted to do was go home, share supper with his mother and forget about the day. So many times was he chased around by the ballerina's, but this one, this one particular one was the nail in his coffin.

He knew the voice to well, incredibly smooth and sweet as butterscotch, something any man would love in a woman, and what a woman. She was young, but still was a good five years older then he was. Nonetheless, there was something that drew him to Aimee, although he fought it off like the plague. It was something that could make her seem so incredibly small and younger then he was, and then she could just shake it off, and become the young seductress.

"Hello Aimee," he returned, and turned towards her. There she stood, in front of him, her arm against the pillar, the other placed on her lithe hip. Slowly she removed herself from the embrace of the shadows and advanced on the young man. Her costume was skimpy, just fabric covering her breasts and her legs. The latest opera involved a scene with slave girls dancing seductively to lure the king. Aimee seemed no one's slave.

"Have I told you how handsome you are lately?" She breathed, her body pressing against him, trying to melt into him.

"Aimee, that's enough!" he said, throwing her off him. She stumbled backwards, her curls flittering all about her, her blue eyes wide with surprise. He would have reached out for her, but he knew her nimble feet were capable of balance. She wanted him to reach out to her; she wanted any reason to fling herself back at him. They stood there, staring at each other, Aimee with resentment and anger in her eyes, Adrienne with tired hesitation.

Suddenly a young woman turned the corner and found them in this position. Rather startled, it was obvious she didn't know what to make of the encounter. Adrienne took this opportunity and distorted it to his advantage.

"There you are darling!" he said to the brunette he had met only once. He walked over to her; she too stunned to move by his boldness. Gently he kissed her cheek and pulled her into an embrace.

"Please… play along, I beg of you." He whispered to her. He was taller then she was, her ear just in reach of his mouth.

"Yes… um… dearest. I was looking for you?" she asked him confused.

"Don't be silly! I told you I was off to find mother, and that I should be by the corps de ballet's rooms." He spoke flashing her a large and grateful grin.

Their embrace was interrupted, however, by the sound of someone clearing their throat. This caused both Adrienne and the brunette to turn and see Aimee, who was watching them intently.

"Adrienne?" Aimee asked him confused. Her beautiful blue eyes looked as though they contained all the hurt of the world, and half the hate of mankind.

"If you'll excuse us Aimee, my…" Adrienne started, and then realized he had no idea what the young woman on his arm's name was. He then searched for a different pet name other then dear, my small one, and my love.

"…Small grapefruit… "

"… Small grapefruit?" both girls repeated suspiciously.

"Yes it's one of our quirky little pet names for each other… its… heh…" Adrienne started and looked at the brunette pleadingly. She looked at him and her eyes widened again in understanding.

"Oh! Yes… grapefruit… haha! I completely forgot, you must forgive me I'm always forgetting things! This one time I even forgot my darlings NAME." she said happily.The arm that was around her waist pinched her shoulder in sign that she was going overboard. Shethen turned back to Adrienne and pinched his cheek.

"My little grapefruit." She said to him like someone would speak to a child. Both Aimee and Adrienne looked at her like she was insane. Yet, Adrienne was smart enough to take this opportunity and go.

"Well we have to go and find my mother, I shall see you at the next rehearsal, Aimee!" Adrienne said leaving a stunned and silent ballerina behind them. Quickly Adrienne veered the beautiful girl away from her as fast as possible, just so that when Aimee awoke from her daze they wouldn't be around for her interrogative questions. As they rounded their second corner she was the first to speak.

"My grapefruit?" She asked him incredulously.

"I don't do well under pressure." He told her, and gave a sheepish grin. As they rounded the third corner, both broke out in laughter. The brunette's eyes teared in laughter and he leaned his head back against the wall.

"I can tell…" She replied to his response, she said, her smile bringing his own to brilliance.

"It's not like you did any better. 'Oh…yes! My little grapefruit!' that was rather convincing." He mimicked her.

"Excuse me, but I think under the circumstances, I the best any aspiring young actress could." She said, swallowing her giggles and wiping away the tears that gathered at the corners of her eyes. As Adrienne sobered, he drank in the gorgeous sight before him. He realized that he couldn't have picked a better girl to get Aimee's goat. The vision before him was stunning. Hazel green eyes, which included golden flecks that rimmed the center, and that were outlined by dark long lashes, stared back blankly into his own. Her chocolate brown curls were piled high on top of her head, only a few loose to give an idea of what the entire thing would look like if only released. Her lips were full and inviting, but not pouting continuously to try and get men to notice her, and lastly skin as smooth as alabaster and as pale as ivory.

"You're stunning." He said to her. She sobered and looked at him amused but wary.

"You're rude." She told him, as though it weren't really a fault. Suddenly, she turned and began to walk away.

"Wait! How did your audition go?" he asked her and caught up.

"How did you know I was auditioning?" She asked him stopping. There was fear in her voice and she turned to him and looked at him like he knew something she didn't.

"Whoa there, it could have been the piece of music in your hand, or the reference to being an aspiring young actress." He said, taking the music from her hand and placing his own with in it. "But I think it was me running into in the hall that lead to the auditioning room that did it." He told her holding her hand to his face.

"Which, by the way, I didn't properly apologize for." He finished by slowly kissing the top of her hand, his eyes never leaving hers for a minute. If she felt anything for him, she never showed it in her face, but instead rolled her eyes at his gesture, and removed her hand from his grasp.

"Please, let me take you to supper, so I may express my deepest gratitude and sincerest grievances over my behavior earlier today." He asked her, his triangular face tilting to the side, causing his hair to roll back in front of her eyes once more.

"I believe your apology will be just sufficient," She told him nodding her head in an act of small cursty and beginning to walk away. He watched her backside as she strolled down the hall away from him. Panic went through him like a lightning bolt, realizing their meeting was drawing to an end.

"Wait! Were are you going?" he asked her.

"Home… " She told him, turning back and smiling to him as she held the side of her dress and scurried faster down the hall.

He watched hergo while trying to think of a way to get her to stay, that waswhen he remembered that he had her music still in his hand.

"Wait, your music!" He called to her, causing her to stop. He quickly ran up to her and was about to place it in her hands when he realized this was another great opportunity for him.

"Thank you," She started, "If I lost it the composer… well to say 'be extremely upset' is an understatement." She said holding her hand out to retrieve it.

"Wait a minute, you can have it if you promise me I can take you to dinner." He said smiling in confidence.

Instead of the smile he was expecting, and the exasperated 'yes', her face paled and her eyes widened. "I cannot promise you that. Please, please give me back my music." She begged.

Adrienne's demeanor changed, he knew that he had stepped over some line and tried to backtrack. "Then for your name, dear lady… I'll give you it back for your name."

The young lady hesitated then spoke, "It's Belle. Belle Lenuit."

"Breathtaking, just like you." He told her, handing her the music. She didn't run away, like he expected her to. But instead asked him "Do you flirt so shamelessly with every girl?"

He smiled at her, "Adrienne, my names Adrienne."

"Do you have a last name, or shall I have to call you Monsieur Adrienne?"

"No… I mean, yes. It's complicated. I've had three last names almost my entire life, and so… It feels like I have no last name at all… merely Adrienne."

Although it barely made sense to him, it seemed that Belle understood exactly what he meant by not having a grounded last name, a link to the past. She nodded her head in affirmation, and began to walk away.

As she reached the end of the hall, Adrienne called out to her. "You didn't let me answer your question!"

She turned back, "Tell me the next time we meet!" she called to him.

"The answer is, only the pretty ones!" he yelled to her, causing her to scoff and stomp away.

He smiled brilliantly, and shook his head; there was definitely something about Belle Lenuit.