Blind Mask

(By: Nicole Gruebel)

Disclaimer: … see chapter 1

Summary of the past chapters: Erik started spying on Christine again, although she lived together with Meg and Madame Giry in an apartment provided by Raoul. Her feelings for the Phantom were obviously still very mixed up. After a whole day in hiding Erik had to witness how she turned to Raoul for comfort. When he fled at this sight he was unaware that his blind guest Noelle had explored some more of his home in his absence.

I want to thank Maria, for she doesn't give in easily and she helped a lot to improve the story. And TheGoddessofDeath found time for beta-reading, too, despite some private trouble.

Please, excuse the long wait. My time got short and it was difficult to write. I'm very happy that some of you actually asked when the story will continue ... I hope this new chapter doesn't dissappoint you. I'll try to update more frequently from now on.

I know not every reader reviews, but I'm still happy when you do - especially when you tell me what you think of my story, of if you ask questions about it. So, thank you Spikes Bint, PhantomPhluter and Rowena.

Chapter 8 - The calm before the storm

'No, I don't want to wake up. It was such a pleasant dream ...'

The memory of the dream was slipping from Noelle's mind as she was waking up. She tried to call it back by snuggling deeper into the soft, warm bed, to which she was so unaccustomed that Noelle was sure it was part of the dream, too.

In her dream, she had felt like a princess, safeguarded in a secret tower by a mysterious knight. Her luxurious chamber had been full of flowers; the floor covered with wonderful pelts and carpets.

A smile crept to her lips when she remembered dancing barefoot on the soft and warm floor. The feeling of fur beneath her feet had been so real, and Noelle tried to remember the colourful flowers and their sweet scent.

It irritated her that the colors wouldn't come back to her memory, and the smell that reached her nose was not sweet at all. It was what had awakened her - the strong and revolting odour of sewage and dirt. Yet as she had lived and worked in the poorer quarters of Paris, the young woman was quite used to it. 'I know that when I open my eyes, I'll see nothing but Jacqueline's moldy apartment, and Madame Gevourx will soon start yelling at us to return to work.'

When Noelle opened her eyes everything remained dark and she felt a pain so sharp that she shut them again at once. Feverish and confused, she tried to remember what had happened. Noelle sat up and cradled her head in her hands. The reality struck her when she felt the bandage there, and all the memories of the fire, Erik, and her blindness washed over her at once. "Oh God, I am not with Jacqueline – I am in Erik's house!" A sound startled her. 'That isn't Ayesha ...' she thought, a little bit frightened. The fading sensation of warmth on her feet suggested that the cat must have had rested on them for some time not long ago.

"Monsieur Erik? Is that you?" Cautiously, she rose to her feet. With one hand she held the cloth she had used as a blanket, so that it wouldn't slip from her shoulders. Her other hand groped along the edge of the couch until her feet found the flat stairs again. "Monsieur Erik?" she whispered again.

The stench made her uneasy, for there had never been a smell like this in these rooms. 'I hope it is not a dead rat.' Noelle approached what she believed was the source of the awful smell. 'Perhaps Erik left a window open, and somebody dumped their filth underneath it?' She was relieved when her hands once again groped upon some furniture.

'It's the bed! I remember the feel of the bedpost! She filled with childish happiness and a rather ridiculous sense of pride, even though she had found her way back only by chance. The smell, which appeared to grow stronger, reminded her that something was not right. Still expecting to come across a dead rat or something equally disgusting, her hands explored the bed carefully.

OOO

"Why am I here? I ran from this place many years ago!" Angrily, Erik pulled at the bars of his cage. It appeared smaller to him than it had been, but he was a grown man now, not a small, frightened boy. "Let me out! I'll kill you with my bare hands!" His booming threats received no answer. Suddenly, a light began to glow in the darkness that surrounded his prison.

"Christine! Help me! Free me!" Erik implored helplessly, but she didn't move.

"She is mine, you monster. You make her cry and you frighten her. Leave her alone!" Out of nowhere Raoul appeared behind Erik, but when Erik turned to attack him, the Vicomte was gone.

"Erik ..."

He turned to face the person that had spoken his name. It had been only a whisper, and he could not remember who owned the voice, but he saw that Raoul held Christine in his arms now. Weakness and helplessness took over, and he believed his aching heart would stop at the mere sight of the couple.

Then something touched his leg, and a strange sensation filled him and banished the darkness.

OOO

Erik could not name the odd feeling, but it was all that remained from the dream. Something had rescued him from his nightmare. Gasping, his eyes flew open and he looked around. He was more than a bit surprised to see Noelle kneeling next to the bed, her fingers tracing along his leg.

"Mademoiselle, why are you out of bed?" Despite the fact that he wasn't sure how he had gotten into the bed, he kept his voice stern and pulled his leg away from her touch.

"Oh! Mon - Monsieur Erik!" Startled, Noelle gathered her hands to her chest and lowered her head guiltily. 'He will hit me, as Monsieur Lambielle did, when he found me touching his silver candelabra.' She braced herself. "I - I'm sorry that I got up on my own, but you were away, and I was hungry. Then I couldn't find the bed again, until now. Ay - Ayesha wanted some food, too!" She stammered out her explanation, attempting to justify her disobedience.

While listening to the woman, Erik lit up the lamp next to his bed. He wondered briefly why one edge of his book was stained with what must be tea. He arched a curious eyebrow at Noelle's appearance. 'Why is she using my velvet robe as a shawl? Didn't I leave it on the couch at the piano?' Then he noticed that he looked nearly as disheveled as she and got out of the bed. "Excuse me, Mademoiselle. I didn't intend to leave you alone all day. Circumstances delayed my return" he explained, his voice softening a bit.

Erik noticed that he had soiled the sheets and blankets with his damp, filthy clothes. "Let me help you …" he said to Noelle, assisting her up from the floor. She appeared to be cold, and since she could not use the bed in its current condition, he gently removed his robe from her shoulders, and helped her put it on properly. "Mademoiselle, you should at least dress correctly, if you start borrowing my clothes." It was awkward for him to see her using his personal possessions.

She did not resist when her 'blanket' was taken away for a moment and replaced by him. Without her sight, Noelle had learned to accept his assistance. "Thank you …" she whispered, for she was a bit embarrassed by wearing his robe. When Erik seated her down in the big armchair, she asked, "Monsieur Erik ... is something wrong here? This stench ..." Her voice grew more timid as she feared to insult him in his own home, more so as she was under the impression that this repulsive smell was from Erik himself.

He was very glad that she could not see him right now. Not for his disfigured face, but because he blushed and grinned at the same time. 'What an inquisitive girl!' Removing his cape, he replied, "No, everything is fine. Stay here in the armchair, while I take care of a few things. Do you need anything at the moment?"

She merely shook her head, and after providing her with a drink, he retreated into the bathroom.

OOO

The warm water was gradually making Erik drowsy; he had gotten only two or three hours of sleep before Noelle had woken him from his latest nightmare. His thoughts began to drift back to what he had heard and seen in the attic. 'Christine ...' his angel's name echoed in his soul.

After a short while, it became impossible for her to sit still and wait for Erik, especially having realized that he had been in the bed she was supposed to use. 'Does he want payment for his help, after all? Perhaps he merely waited until my fever broke. What would have happened, if I had been in the bed? Why did he leave me alone on the couch? Perhaps he was too tired, but I need to know what all of this means ...'

The sounds of water suggested to Noelle that Erik had retreated into the bathroom. It took her a few moments of intense listening to determine the direction from which the sounds came. Her unanswered questions filled her with the courage to begin another journey through her darkness. It was easier this time, for there was something to use as destination. She was surprised to find the big shelf she had explored earlier, and that it apparently was near the bathroom.

"Monsieur Erik - why were you in the - bed?" Noelle's voice came from the other side of the curtain that covered the entrance to the bathroom.

'Why does she always have to wander around?' He sighed inwardly, his patience with the girl growing thin.

Erik was thrown by her questions, at first; then he slowly understood what she must have meant. 'Does she think so horribly of all men, or myself alone?' he wondered, but had to admit that there were indeed plenty of men who would take advantage of her situation. He had witnessed more than once how some men had tried to force themselves on frightened girls at the Opera House. Occasionally he had shown them how much he despised such behavior and scared them away before any harm could be done to their victims.

Ever since Erik had been first forced in his youth by the gypsies to show himself as the famous Living Corpse, he had wished to be invisible to others. Around this blind woman, however, he slowly began to feel safe enough to walk around without hiding behind fine clothes and masks, and so he only put on a velvet robe before stepping through the curtain. Noelle was holding on to the shelf next to the entrance. She appeared somehow lost and tilted her head as though she was trying to locate his position.

"To be truthful, I didn't pay much attention to where I fell asleep or where you were," Erik began, feeling no need to lie about the matter. "You were lucky that I did not go to the couch this night. I might have not noticed you at first, but unlike in the bed, there would have been no room enough for two." He paused and was amused by her shocked gasp of breath. "Do not worry, Mademoiselle, I never intended to take advantage on you, nor do I plan to do so in the future." Erik knew he would have felt very awkward waking up next to her, for he never had shared a bed with anyone, but he wanted her to know that he would never force himself upon a woman.

Noelle blushed fiercely. She was ashamed to have had insulted Erik with her unspoken assumption, but she felt somehow rejected, too. His voice seemed to mock her, but she believed him. She wrapped his robe tighter around her. "I'm sorry. I will not take up your bed anymore. You have already gone through a lot of trouble because of me."

'Of course ... who would want to stay in a bed where I had slept?' His painful memories drifted once more to the gypsies, who had always secured their tents and wagons a good distance away from his cage and later his own tent. 'They shunned me because of my face and their superstition. Christine convinced me that she could see past this curse, but she turned away from the distorted being behind it.'

"May I instead sleep on the couch from now on?" Noelle was contemplating Erik's silence. 'Was I ungrateful to refuse his bed? It is his home and I am not even a guest, but a burden.' Of course, she did not see the dark shadows across his face, induced by unpleasant memories, or how he turned to her in astonishment.

Gradually Erik grew uneasy, as he often forgot that she could not condemn him for his face yet. Christine had been that way, too, when he had still been her mysterious Angel of Music. 'No. Noelle knows that I'm real. How can this woman be so trusting, while entirely at my mercy?' He was fascinated and irritated by it at the same time. "You are still not well. The bed is best for you, and I do not want you near the piano."

"You own a piano?"

"Of course ..." Erik reminded himself that she probably had not noticed it upon her exploration of his home. "Perhaps we should eat something. Later, I will see to your injuries. If your eyes have healed well enough, I will turn you over to someone else's care soon." He went back into the bathroom without another look at Noelle.

She didn't reply and waited patiently until he returned to guide her. 'Where will he send me? Will my eyes heal after all or is there no hope left? Perhaps he only wants to be free of this burden as soon as possible. Should I be glad to leave this place?'

OOO

Several days passed uneventfully. Noelle's hands and arms were nearly healed, but Erik still did not want to leave the treatment of her eyes to an ordinary physician. He believed the medical knowledge he had acquired during his travels was more useful and trustworthy.

Erik had shown her how to find her way around his apartment, and how to identify certain objects. It had distracted him from his dark thoughts, and since he still continued to feel the inexplicable lack of interest in his music, he enjoyed occupying himself with other matters. He had even constructed a walking stick for Noelle. He had, however, resumed his morphine addiction, to ward off his nightmares.

The last examination of her eyes had been rather painful, although she had tried to concentrate on Erik's warm, soothing voice. He had hardly left her alone for longer than a few hours, but Noelle had started to withdraw more and more into herself. She was certain that he did all he could and perhaps more than anybody else would, especially for one like her. But she could tell from his tone that he hardly believed anymore in the recovery of her sight. It became evident when Erik began teaching her things only a blind person would need to know.

She attempted to cope with that grim prospect the best she could. It was not so hard to feel the way with the walking stick, or to recognize food and other objects via touch and smell. But it saddened her that she would never see the world again. Even the sight of the wrinkled face of Madame Gevourx would make her happy now.

Erik often noticed her sadness, but he neither commented on it, nor said anything about the tears that sometimes wetted the bandages over her eyes. All he did for her comfort was to assure her that she wouldn't have to worry about her future or money - that he would send her to a place where she would be well taken care of. Erik knew it was his fault that she had become blind, and he intended to keep his vow: this innocent victim would not suffer anymore.

"What does this carving show?"

Surprised, Erik looked up from his book. It had been the first question to come from Noelle in some time. He noticed her hands were moving over the headboard of the bed. "It is a forest with animals: deer, birds, rabbits ..."

She frowned and traced the carvings with her fingers. "I have never been in a forest. I've seen animals on the market and once in a traveling fair. And ... it becomes harder to remember what things look like ..." Noelle's voice trailed to a whisper and mirrored her fear of losing the memory of pictures and colors as well as her sight.

Erik's heart skipped a beat when she mentioned the fair. It brought a memory back - one that he would gladly forget, if he were able to. "I have some books here. If you like, I could read to you something that describes such things very well." It appeared to lift her spirit, and she stopped clinging to the carvings.

Years ago, this place had been a temporary refuge for him, but fortunately he had never neglected it entirely. He had not looked at the few books he had left there in a long time. Erik began with a scientific book about trees, but soon he noticed there were too many Latin words in it. In fact he had used it once to learn this language himself. He next chose to read to her from a book of old legends, occasionally adding his own words for a more detailed and vivid description.

"You have such a wonderful voice, Monsieur Erik." Noelle wasn't certain if it was an appropriate comment, but she felt the need to say it nonetheless. "It reminds me of music." While indeed strange, those last words were a rather appropriate description.

Such compliments were nothing new to him. He was aware of the power of his voice most of his life. Still, her comparison amused him. "Music, Mademoiselle? I thought you knew little of music."

"That is true, but do you remember the violin we heard that night? The melody it was playing made me think of beams of sunlight glittering in the water. I saw pictures in my head, as though drawn by the music. It happens while I listen to your stories, too."

Noelle heard Erik stand up with a contemptuous sound. 'I must have spoken again as the ignorant child that I am. He obviously is a very educated man; it surely aggravates him to hear such nonsense.' Suddenly, her ears perceived the soft sound of a violin. It gradually grew louder and the tune became more and more complicated. The whirling sounds formed colors and images in her mind, part of her yearned to touch them, or at least dance. "It is the same melody!" Noelle exclaimed as soon as he finished playing. "But it is so much more alive! After that night, I thought I had a dream about it, but it was you, who played the violin! That was so beautiful ... I could see so much more than the first time, butterflies dancing over a flowered meadow ... Can you please play it again?"

Erik watched the abrupt change in the young woman with amazement. Her face lit with a smile, and she even laughed. With sweeping gestures, she emphasized what she was describing. "Well, Mademoiselle, this melody is titled 'Dancing Butterflies'. It's only a small part of a whole sonata."

She sat down on the bed again, awash in fantasies born from his music. Not even in her dreams had she encountered such breathtaking visions. Somehow, she knew that she would not forget those images.

While his bow magically wove more wondrous melodies, Erik wondered why he had begun playing again. Noelle had given him the small impetus he could not find on his own anymore, and as long as he performed tunes to which Christine had not sung or danced to, it was, in fact, quite pleasant.

'Christine ...' He had managed to ban her from his thoughts the past several days, but music had wakened his passion, which still yearned for his beautiful angel,. Perhaps it always would. Noelle couldn't notice the pained expression that suddenly lingered on Erik's face for some moments until he plunged himself even deeper into the melody, but she was aware that his tune changed somewhat. She believed to have heard a whispered name that was not familiar to her amidst the music.

To be continued …