Chapter Six: Something Obscure
I woke very drowsily to soft candlelight and groaned, rolling over in an unfamiliar bed. Someone sat next to me, but I couldn't see who it was just yet. My vision was still clouded. I groaned again, pressing a numb hand to my forehead and noticing a certain tightness around my shoulder. I could make out a patch of white, so I could only assume my wound had been tended to. Whoever sat with me was silent in an uncanny sort of way. I blinked back the foggy circles that danced around my eyes and finally was able to find some sort of focus. The ceiling was stone.
My heart flipped and I sat straight up, eyes going wide as a hand pushed me gently back down. "Mademoiselle, I ask that you stay put lest you put your health in further danger," came Erik's warning voice. I breathed.
"How did you—"
"Madame Giry was kind enough to get rid of Monsieur James so that I could take you into my care," he answered, rising from his seat. The bed I was in was of some kind of swan shape, the blankets and pillows fluffed but still containing the rather musty smell of his lair. It wasn't unwelcome to me for some reason and I looked around at the various candelabras nearby, noticing a fairy cradle situated above the bed.
"How long have I been out?" I asked.
"A good few hours," he stated, pouring some water into a goblet. He handed me the goblet gingerly before stepping away again, his back to me now. He'd shed his cape, jacket, vest, and jabot, revealing a slightly worn white shift with a modest ruffle. He was looking off thoughtfully across the place, silent and unmoving now. I sipped the water, still looking at him. "I'd recommend not passing out again," he finally said. I nearly choked on the water.
"I beg your pardon, Monsieur, but it's your fault that I fainted!" I answered unbelievingly.
"You had it coming to you," he shot back defensively, turning his face slightly and sending a glare in my direction. I glared back. "You always have to fight! Why can't you just leave well enough alone?" He scolded, turning fully now and regarding me sternly. I rolled my eyes.
"If I just stand around like a senseless bimbo, how am I to accomplish anything?" I inquired, looking at him steadily as I set the empty goblet aside. "It's not like I asked you to be my instructor."
"It was my duty, so I offered!" He hissed, "And I am beginning to regret it!"
"Ha! Told you you'd regret it," I intervened triumphantly.
"If I remember correctly, you said I would regret it if I ever touched you again," he corrected.
"Oh my goodness, it's a miracle! He actually listens!" I cheered sarcastically. His eyes flared again but he kept his distance and clenched his fists. "I never thought I'd see the day!"
"You won't see any day if you keep up this rude behavior," he retorted. I glared.
"Do you regret anything you've done to me?" I seethed, keeping my glare steady. He took a breath and regarded me for a moment, reflection flickering on his face almost calmly.
"No," he said quietly. He relaxed his fists and continued staring at me in thought. It was an uncomfortable gaze and I twisted a bit. A smirk alighted on his face as he began to approach me. "But there are some things I regret not doing to you…" He started. Un-nerved, I backed away to the far edge of the bed; my legs untangling from the covers as my hand gripped the edge of the bed frame.
"Are you going to kill me?" I asked, my eyes widening as he halted at the edge of the bed. He shook his head slowly and placed a knee upon the edge, crawling across towards me. "What are you—" I toppled off the edge of the bed in a mess of blankets and struggled to free myself, gasping as I scrambled to my feet. He laughed. It's the first time I'd seen him laugh. I stared at him in a frightened awe for a moment before his gaze turned to fire resting on me once again. My hand went for my rapier, but it wasn't there. I panicked and looked around.
"How does it feel to be helpless, Miss Lavonne?" He asked with a slight chuckle. It was almost charming in a way… except that it had a murderous edge to it. Looking around desperately, I finally spotted my salvation but I would have to pass him in order to obtain it. My gaze flickered between him and the glorious hilt of my rapier, which seemed to be leagues away…
"Helpless?" I inquired, raising a brow and trying not to show him that I felt threatened. "Why, one is not helpless until they're dead," I replied modestly. He smiled maliciously. I met his gaze indifferently. There was a wall behind me. I had no-where to go. He knew this and closed in on me until I was planted firmly against that wall. I shivered as he pressed against me imposingly, darkness dominating his deep eyes.
"If you just learned to obey, we'd have no problems," he stated evenly, leaning a casual arm on the wall above me.
"Obey? You mean, become a slave to you?" I asked, unmoving as the tip of his nose barely touched mine.
"In a manner," he breathed almost sensually. I raised a brow.
"All right. I'll be your slave," I nearly deadpanned with the statement as I regarded him seriously.
"Lies," he hissed, his eyes raging at me in frustration. I smiled genuinely. He growled.
"You know… I'm really in no mood to spar with you right now…" I began, regarding him evenly. He raised a brow and I gulped at the sight of it. Strange. "And as fun as it's been…" I gave an abrupt but sturdy shove, tackling him harshly to the ground. "…I have things to do."
I leapt up and sprinted over to where my victory awaited, when suddenly I heard a familiar whipping sound behind me. My ankles locked together as the slender rope caught them and threw me down with a slam, to the stone floor. I grimaced and flexed, my hand reaching for my rapier but falling just out of range.
"I didn't dismiss you, Miss Lavonne," he admonished, gathering the slack and pausing to stand over me. "Apparently, I proved nothing to you last night…"
"Other than the fact that you're a selfish killer with no respect, no," I gritted through my teeth as I strove to reach my rapier.
"What must I do to get through to you…" he sighed almost dramatically, slamming his foot down on my ankles. I cried out as pain shot up my legs. "How about putting you out of service for a month? You'd be deprived of the wonderful position I've secured for you in this production!" He yelled, removing his foot and twisting the rope to flip me over so that I was looking at him. I gasped, wincing still at the pain. "Ungrateful!" He sneered accusingly, "Why do I keep doing things for you?"
"That's… your decision," I gasped, laying limp for a minute and closing my eyes against the soft, changing light of the cavern.
"Why do you think it is?" He demanded. I could feel his eyes bearing into me like hot coals but I didn't open mine. Maybe if I kept them closed, I would somehow develop more willpower to resist… "Why?" He demanded more firmly, tugging almost despondently on the rope.
"Because without me, how could your life possibly be interesting?" I snapped, opening my eyes finally to glare at him. I clearly wasn't going anywhere, so I might as well bite back while I could. "Admit it; you enjoy fighting with me," I agonized, my glare firing up again. He fumed but didn't release me.
"That is not so. I find you to be beyond controllable and exceedingly vexing," he replied haughtily. I laughed at him.
"What else is new?" I asked, "You're going to let me out of your little lasso and then you're going to fight me some more, because you like to fight. You enjoy the interaction. You enjoy the contact."
"If I enjoyed the contact, I would have taken you by now!" He snapped. I froze at that statement, looking at him through wide eyes. "You're a pretty girl, but looks are very deceiving," he said coldly, "I wouldn't give yourself too much credit, Miss Lavonne." His voice trickled off in a whispered sneer, the edges of his lips turned up in a victorious smile of sorts.
"I hate you," I stated evenly, not taking my eyes from him.
"I hate you," he responded. He unhooked his lasso from my feet and kicked at my calves, turning away in a distraught manner. I rose shakily, dusting myself off. He was walking away, leaving me to my own devices.
"I hate you more," I called after him, crossing my arms. He stopped and dropped his lasso in a coil, veering back towards me with an evil glint in his eye. I stood still as he came near, staring at me.
"Well then, Miss Lavonne, I loathe you beyond the utter ends of the darkest forms of hate. I loathe you so much that the Heavens weep for the darkness that my hate creates and Hell rejoices in the swirling abyss that circles my heart with the mere sight of you," he breathed angrily, his brows drawn together under his half-mask. I didn't move, but I shuddered with the conviction in his voice. He raised his chin slightly and set his jaw then, as if rethinking his words.
"Very well…" I breathed raggedly and nodded, turning and reaching for my rapier as I silently declared my intention to leave. Suddenly he leaned and closed his hand around mine. I stopped, my eyes cast downward as I breathed softly and shivered in the chill of his lair. He gently pulled to turn me around, fixating his eyes upon mine. I trembled as he closed the distance, his other hand settling upon my waist. He bent his head over slightly. I could feel his breath on my lips and my eyes fluttered shut in the momentary bliss of it, before my mind sharply reprimanded me. I jerked away from his inviting embrace and grabbed my rapier, storming off. To my surprise, he didn't follow.
I emerged in the dressing room and promptly made my way in the direction of the dormitories. At the foot of my stairs lounged a sleeping James. Thank God. I ascended the stairs silently, returning to my room and setting my rapier underneath my bed. It was very early in the morning (about three or four), so I changed into my nightclothes. Somehow I doubted there would be rehearsals in the morning.
After a good night's sleep, I woke to another snowy morning. And there was a note patiently awaiting my attention at the window. As much as I would have liked to have another note, its arrival after recent events was a bit questionable and almost unwelcome. I hesitated. But my fingers eventually closed around the edge, breaking the seal open almost gingerly.
'Dear Faye,
I apologize from the bottom of my heart if I have injured you beyond a quick repair—it was not my intention. And I did not mean that remark which I made with regards to utterly loathing you. That is not how I feel in the least.
On the contrary, I think you are a most admirable lady… temperamental at times, even downright inane and aggravating…but admirable, coupled with a unique spark. You are unlike any other, and for that reason alone do I believe you will be successful.
I do not regret the offering of my services, and I hold no true intention or desire to make you my slave.
Faithfully,
Erik.'
I stared at the piece of paper and smiled a little, refolding it and moving to my desk. He had a heart after all…apparently he just didn't know how to properly express himself. Taking out a piece of parchment, I removed my quill and contemplated for a moment.
'Dear Erik,
Your letter was well received and the injury you have dealt is fast healing already. Like you said…I deserved it.
I don't hate you. You are intriguingly different—scary at times, but who's to say anything ever really scared me?
I do not regret coming to the Paris Opera, nor do I regret accepting your aid…
Faye
P.S. Not that you could ever enslave me anyway.'
I let a few drops of wax fall onto the crease to seal my letter, before placing it carefully by the window. I felt better. He was still a murdering fiend, but at least he was an endearing murdering fiend…that made no sense. Smiling to myself and shaking my head, I descended the staircase after donning my robe. James no longer sat at the foot, for which I was very grateful. Some things were set out in one of the dressing rooms for breakfast, so I helped myself. Only a few chorus girls were present, so I made my way to the sitting room that was at the foot of the staircase, crossing paths with Madame Giry.
"You're back," she commented, eyebrows raised in surprise. I eyed her.
"Yes. Happy Holidays to me," I stated sarcastically, still eyeing her as I took a seat. She didn't seem to catch the hint.
"Are you feeling better?" She asked, "You were in poor condition…"
"Mhm," I answered vaguely, "I'm certain that placing me in the care of my attacker was the absolute best option." My tone was heavily sadistic.
"Well, I'm glad you feel better." She patted my uninjured shoulder and bustled off. I watched her wearily. Apparently, my sardonic snapping held no long-term effect on her. I'd have to figure out her buttons later…
"Faye!" Oh bloody Hell. I raised my eyes to the sight of Mister Blondie British Boy flouncing towards me, an expression of mock concern plastered on his face.
"Good morning, James," I called sweetly, gritting my teeth all the while. He sat across from me almost breathlessly, his bright blue inquisitive eyes very much betraying his manhood.
"Did you see the murderer?" He asked.
"Did you see me pass out?" I shot immediately; "Did you ask me if I was okay?"
"I caught you," he answered, smiling.
"Oh, good job. Would you like a medal for your elite bravery?" I scolded, picking up my breakfast and starting for the stairs.
"Are you upset about something?" He asked, standing and placing a hand on my arm. I glared at him like I had glared at no other and he recoiled instantly.
"Yes. You see… there's this man, and he won't leave me alone or stop asking me questions," I explained dryly.
"Who is he? I shall see that this problem is acknowledged immediately!" He stated boldly.
"Then acknowledge yourself," I deadpanned. At that, I turned and flounced up the stairs, delighting in the astonished silence of Mister British Fancy Feet. I took my breakfast in my room, before changing and returning myself to the downstairs corridor. Madame Giry was there again.
"Get your dance shoes and come to the theater," she said informatively, before moving off. Grumbling irritably, I did as asked and arrived in the theater. Some of the orchestra was present, as well as the directors, Mme. Giry, and James. I paused on the right side of the stage and looked at them.
"James has been re-cast in place of Monsieur Delacrois. The show must go on," Madame Giry informed. My eyes widened. Oh, no way was I dancing with him! "Mademoiselle…the farewell sequence," Mme. Giry stated firmly. James came over and took my hand, leading me onto the stage. He did not look at me. It seemed that my message had finally gotten through to him. "Monsieur Reyer!" Madame Giry moved off the stage as the small portion of the orchestra started the introduction.
James moved his hand to my waist, the other clasping mine as he brought me around to the starting position. I was tense as it began, but eventually I fell into the dance with ease, finding that the fact that he could actually lead helped my dancing ability. The whole time, his eyes remained frigidly focused on a single point on the opposite side of the stage. His steady movements certainly did not lack grace or ability, and I was completely surprised that such an arrogantly demeaned man could possibly convey such movement-based passion. I was stunned, really. Finally he whisked my twirling form across the stage, bending me lithely over his arms, and I saw his eyes.
The childish glint had faded, and was instead replaced by a roaring passion that was very much like Erik's, and for a moment, they were one and the same. He carefully lifted me again, as I realized the silence that had set in. Madame Giry looked astonished. She brought herself back and clapped her hands, breaking the terrified trance that had settled over me so evenly.
"Dismissed," she said. I pulled from James, glancing back at him furtively. He did not take his eyes from me now, and a knowing smirk appeared on his face. I'd caught my breath by now, as well as my senses. I refused to fall for such a self-serving imbecile, no matter how good he could dance, or how much he had changed in the past… hour.
Horrified by the very thoughts that dared to grace my mind, I exited the stage in a flourish, with Madame Giry practically on my heels. "That was amazing!" She babbled out in the hallway. I wanted to wipe the ignorant smile off of her face. Turning to face her, my eyes burned with festering loathing. Madame Giry had been left as some sort of caretaker for me, and she had done absolutely nothing reasonable on my account in her position. I was at a loss for words.
"Don't talk to me," I muttered, moving up to my bedroom. She looked confused but she did not pursue. For some reason, I felt miserable, and I felt like dealing with no man nor phantom today or tonight for that matter. Life had suddenly become a puzzle of sorts, and I was determined to figure it out.
A/N: Yeah, shorter than usual. Inspiration dwindling already. R and R. -.-