Chapter Seven: The Verge
I found myself staring at the little bits I'd recorded in my journal. I should have known that I could never keep up with recording everything that had happened at the Opera House since I'd arrived. Instead, I'd started a mini-catalog of mysterious disappearances, sabotage, and murder accounts. It made sense, but then, it didn't.
The problem was that Erik had a heart. It seemed broken, and maybe a little tainted, but it was still there. If he was the Phantom behind all of these occurrences, I'm sure he could change. I sighed, rubbing my forehead. Maybe I needed to get away from all of this…a break of sorts. And then there was James. I sighed again, irate. This was already getting annoying. I felt as though I'd been here for years and it had barely been a week. It was absolutely ridiculous.
I closed my journal, giving up all hope on finding out how everything correlated. If Erik were completely unreasonable and horrible, it would have made perfect sense. But this was not the case. Grumbling to myself, I debated the Opera Ghost precepts. Was he really the Opera Ghost, or was he just pretending for the sake of having an edge on me? Maybe he was just a short-tempered man forced to dwell under the Opera House because of whatever deformity that happened to lay under that half-mask of his…it couldn't possibly be that bad, could it? Maybe I was thinking too much—oh no, maybe I was getting attached! No…that couldn't be. I could get up and leave whenever I wanted to! …No I couldn't.
I put the journal away. My thoughts were still a great clutter of inconspicuous notions, facts, and myths. Maybe I needed to ask some unsuspecting person what they knew. But then, Erik was likely to find out. He seemed very capable of that to the point of sheer annoyance. Still, who cared if he knew? I still had free will and he had stated that he held no intention of enslaving me. First-hand sources were best anyway. I got up and headed down to the chorus girls' lounge. They were generally very annoying, because they had major gossip issues. But if they knew something, at least it wouldn't be boring.
No chorus girls were present. They must have had a rehearsal. I took it that the company was working with specifics at this point. Well, that out-ruled that idea. I suppose I could have gone in search of new routes to Erik's lair for the lack of better things to do, but lassos and walls of water sounded neither appealing nor enticing at the moment. I'd avoid his lair for now. Besides, he hadn't been very happy about the last time. Though I'd been down there twice now…
My curiosity was going to get me killed. I wandered aimlessly about the Opera House, noting that it was very deserted. I suppose even the weather outside must have gotten to those inside. I just felt caged, however. I hadn't seen Paris. All I knew was the Opera House. Perhaps that would make life simpler, but who was to say I wouldn't explore anyway? Now I understood why I drove Erik to the end of his wits…though I admit I delighted in every evil glare I received, for some odd reason. I still had an effect on him.
At first glance out the window, all my hopes of travel were crushed with the three-foot snowdrifts. Grumbling irritably, I pondered my situation. It was afternoon. My lesson wasn't until ten. Theoretically I had about nine hours to do nothing. I didn't want to risk breaking into the archives again, as there was a greater risk of being caught at this point. The whole place was under heavy watch since Monsieur Delacrois's death…
My feet carried me out of the room and down the stairs, in search of something interesting to do. Lately everything seemed too quiet around here. I could guess that in another two weeks or so, things would pick up when we were readying for the show. My ears perked up when somewhere down the hall; I became aware of the clash of metal. Someone was fighting!
Rather than of course, running from the scene like any normal person would, I continued down the hallway curiously and glanced into one of the practice rooms where a couple of the men were assembled and messing around with their rapiers. James had become the main opponent and looked as if he were faring quite well. I could definitely see that I had him in the speed department however.
Turning on my heel, I ran back to my room and grabbed my rapier, running back downstairs just in time to see James disarm his opponent. He now held two rapiers in his hands. The men assembled clapped and laughed at the man who now had no sword. James bowed rather stagnantly and then smirked as if it had been nothing. I saw that as my cue and crossed both blades near the pommel from behind. He swerved his head and the applause ceased. I raised a brow.
"En guard, Monsieur," I stated, sliding my sword out of the position and whirling around to attack from the front. He smirked a bit.
"Lady, I do not challenge the unworthy or the weak," He said, rolling his shoulders a bit, "So I shall put aside one sword and go lightly upon you."
"Do as you wish. You will have no sword in the end anyway," I retorted, still holding my rapier at level with his nose. The other men laughed. He nodded rather doubtfully, tossing aside his previous opponent's sword and backing up a few steps to put his rapier on point with mine. He raised a brow.
"Shall we dance, my lady?" He asked, stepping lightly in the circular fashion. I followed, an eyebrow raised in return.
"Let me teach you how," I replied, lunging and crossing over to jab towards his right shoulder. He parried it efficiently, swinging immediately towards my abdomen. I blocked and swung our blades around to my left, the tips just barely skimming the floor. We broke and distanced again. His eyes blazed in amusement, head lowered slightly in intrigue. He did not remove eye contact.
"I did not ask for a review, my lady," he shot.
"Oh I would hate to overwhelm you," I replied, glaring at him as I lunged again and made for his open left side. He parried and moved for my right immediately. I came up and blocked, swinging our blades out of range for a minute before I took a stab towards his left shoulder. His rapier shot up and sang as it pushed mine up and over. He moved for my right shoulder and I ducked before throwing an uppercut with the blade. He backed up a few steps as I rose and swung around, slamming his rapier and locking our blades in a cross formation. He grimaced, pushing on his side with a lunge. I counter-pushed and held him at bay for several seconds before we broke again.
I whipped around and nearly lanced him several times with a few swift movements, but each was blocked. I paused, drawing back for breath. He caught his as well, the amusement in his eyes giving way to sheer determination.
"Do you think it wise to parry with an expert?" He asked, circling again.
"Do you think it wise to tangle with assumptions?" I retorted, following his movements in a circle. The men watching seemed a bit restless at this point.
"You'll just have to prove me wrong," he answered haughtily, tilting his blade again. "On y va."
"D'accord." My blade shot across the opening as I whirled again, engaging him in a fierce battle of glinting metal as it slashed through the air in light vigor. I tried once to hook his pommel but did not succeed and almost lost my footing in the process. Finally, he thrust my blade across the room with a smug look, putting his own at the tip of my chin.
"The battle is mine," he stated. I smirked, before dodging out of the way and sliding across the floor. He planted a foot in my way but I swiftly grabbed my hilt again, swinging my legs at his ankles, and tripping him. Ill prepared, he went toppling to the floor in surprise as I swung up to my feet and held his throat at the point of my rapier.
"Nay sir. I think not," I answered. He said nothing but stared at me through wide eyes. I nodded politely and backed off, sheathing my weapon and moving for the door. The onlookers had awe-stricken expressions painted upon their faces. "Good day, gentlemen," I said, before moving out of the room. Once out of hearing distance, I laughed.
When I returned to my room, there was no note, but there was a piece of parchment on my desk with a quick message scribbled on it. 'Eight 'o' clock.' I sighed and put my rapier down, stretching and looking out the window again. Eight 'o' clock. Well. Now I only had about six hours to kill.
"Faye?" It was Madame Giry. Maybe I wouldn't have to worry about the six hours of nothing. "We're doing a run-through," she informed, "And then official measurements for costumes." I nodded, placing my rapier away and grabbing my dance shoes. Whistling to myself, I started down the stairs and looked down upon the swarm of chorus girls and boys, coupled with technicians and musicians running about. Ah the perfection that is chaos…
I floated into the theater, walking by James and assuming position at center stage. I plopped down and laced my shoes, before standing and exercising a bit before I awaited the start command. Carlotta waltzed in with an elaborate headpiece of sorts, which made me snicker. "Messieurs, this has been selected for my gala scene," she stated, modeling the piece as if it were the eighth wonder of the world. I snickered again. The directors exchanged uncomfortable looks before looking back at her.
"Can the designers perhaps…tone it down a bit?" Asked Monsieur Reyer a bit nervously. Carlotta snapped and was about to start screaming at them, but I decided they didn't deserve to be berated for their honesty like that, so I threw a swift kick to the back of Carlotta's thighs. She screeched and whirled on me.
"You little vermin!" She hissed, taking a swipe at me with those clawed fingers of hers. I dodged and smiled. The managers quickly found something else to occupy themselves. I shrugged and quickly made myself nearly invisible, so Carlotta was left to stand in utter confusion. The tactic worked fairly well and soon the run-through was underway.
After having sparred with James earlier, there was a bit more of a competitive edge to the farewell sequence. It was more amusing than aggravating, however. When the run-through had finally ended, and a few of the scenes worked on, there was little more than half an hour left before said lesson. I was exhausted and irritated, even as I went to retrieve my rapier and things. I received a few odd looks as I made my way back down to the theater, but ignored them pointedly. I'm sure all kinds of things were going through the rumor mill at this point, and didn't care to know about them.
I dropped my things restlessly on the stage, glancing at the few candles that were lit. Sitting down, I began lacing up my shoes. I was not in much of a mood to deal with Erik tonight, and was quite irritated with not having a nap in between rehearsal and lessons. A door slammed in the back of the theater, light but urgent steps plodding through the darkness.
"Horrendous!" Erik's voice seethed through the darkness. I rolled my eyes as his once-menacing form appeared on stage. I rose patiently, trying not to let my aggravation dominate my tone.
"What irks you now, dear Opera Ghost?" I asked through gritted teeth.
"If you ever plan to be a star of this opera house, you are not to go sparring with the chorus men because you are bored!" He shot.
"I am well aware of the fact that you stalk me. If I cared or didn't want you to know of my activities, I'd conceal them," I answered evenly. I tired of his ways…
"Your performance was despicable!" He continued.
"Town crier," I coughed, stretching out my limbs. "You can complain all you want to. Somehow I don't think your words will imprint themselves upon my mind. Not much else concerned with you contains much use for memory..." He grabbed my wrist and twisted me around, bringing my back flush with his chest. I gasped, twisting in his harsh embrace.
"You are on my grounds," he stated darkly, "You will abide by my rules…" I struggled but found myself in a locked position. "Do I make myself perfectly clear?" I nodded before finding myself released. I lost my balance and fell to my hands and knees, glaring at him through blazing green eyes. "Your scales, Miss Lavonne," he stated, making his way off stage. Sighing in annoyance, I dusted myself off and recomposed, before singing a scale. "Awful," he spat, "Do it again."
"Sometimes I do not appreciate your honesty…" I muttered through gritted teeth. He snapped his lasso against the stage and I automatically retreated a step.
"I said, do it again," he breathed angrily. I sang again, trying to think about what exactly he wanted from me. Then there was silence and a deep sigh resounded from the shadows. "Faye, what's wrong?" He finally asked, as though he was trying to control his temper. It's the first time he'd ever expressed much care in my well being so I paused, staring at the shadows for a moment.
"Nothing… I've just had a very long day and I don't feel like doing this," I responded.
"You have to push yourself," he responded, "I can't do all the pushing all the time." I sighed, rubbing my temples. There was another moment of silence. "Let's dance, first," he finally said. I heard him approaching and looked up to see him enter the small area of candlelight. Still menacing. God I hated him…
He took me gently into his embrace, sparking familiarity. I stepped back instinctively but he held me insistently, coaxing me closer until I barely rested against him. "Slowly now," he said, moving with careful grace across the stage, "Lightly…why so tense?" He stopped and met my eyes. I shook my head at him and moved to pull away. "Oh never mind… how did I do it again?"
"Do what?" I asked nervously. His fingers sought my waist and I squirmed a bit, the sensation causing extreme discomfort.
"Ah yes." His fingers cinched my waist and I went limp with a gasp. He smirked rather daringly. "Well-oiled machine," he commented, moving back up into the dance. I was far too exhausted to remember the dance. He led through spins and twirls like some vague apparition, guiding my blind form through dreams and visions.
"Are you quite relaxed now?" He breathed. I jolted back to reality and found myself loosely hooked over his arm, my leg riding up on his left hip, supported by his other hand. My eyes went wide but I simply couldn't get myself to move.
"Yes," I muttered almost feverishly, closing my eyes again and hanging there in silent surrender. I was too tired to fight him off right now…too exhausted to make some half-witted retort just to see the fire in his eyes again…
"Are you ready to sing?" He asked. His tone sounded slightly sarcastic and amused, but I didn't open my eyes.
"No…" I whispered. I could feel his lips on my neck, gently smoothing over the skin. He moved along my jaw.
"You would dare refuse your teacher's orders?" He murmured softly, finding more interest in the base of my jaw.
"What's the difference between daring to refuse and refusing?" I asked, leaning my head back away from him tentatively.
"You dare but you do not refuse," he whispered sensually, his fingers curling around the edge of my waist.
"I do refuse…" I breathed.
"You want to…I know your fiery little heart too well, little tiger," his lips were at my ear, "You want to but you cannot."
"I despise you…" I growled.
"Yes…" He answered, brushing his lips along my cheekbone. I shuddered as his fingers wrapped around the side of my thigh. Gasping, my eyes flew open as my senses began to return.
"No, no!" I growled suddenly, trying to wrench myself out of his grip. It was too late though. He'd planned it out well. I soon found my back flat against the wall, darkness enveloping me as he pressed with a hiss.
"How long did you think the distant longing in your eyes would go unnoticed?" He chortled. I could barely see him now, but I'm sure I was bright red.
"What do you know about longing?" I spat into the darkness, struggling to wrestle his arms away. It was useless; he was like a fence around me.
"A lot more than you do, I'm sure," he answered haughtily.
"My God, you're so invasive!" I fumbled. He laughed a bit.
"And if I were not, how could your life ever be interesting, my dear?" He purred charismatically.
"Backstabber…" I hissed.
"Just remember, you said it first, my darling," he chuckled.
"I resent that!"
"You resent everything," he replied quickly, "Stop being so… resentful!"
"Only if you stop being invasive!" I suggested, my glare piercing the darkness.
"Never," he answered simply. There was a smile on his voice—a menacing one at that.
"Fine. Then let me go," I reasoned.
"I'll have to think about it…"
"NOW."
"Well then, if you're going to use that tone with me, I think I'll keep you right where I want you," he said almost coldly, tightening his grip.
"Let me tell you something, Monsieur Erik. No one cages me. No one has me where they want me. No one orders me around. I obey no one…" I started.
"Proceed." He sounded as if he was trying to express vague interest.
"I am free. I walk freely; I do what I like. I don't need to hang around here and be ordered about by the likes of you!" I scoffed, struggling again and meeting with the same amount of success—none. "Am I some kind of play thing? Do you enjoy bossing me around and thinking that you actually have control over me? Because you don't! I could just…walk away, whenever I chose to! And I will! Mark my words, I wi—" He closed his lips around mine and I strove to free myself but found it nearly impossible.
He coaxed me into the kiss, and I relaxed, but not of my own will. He broke for a minute and brought me closer in his embrace. I caught my breath and moved despondently to escape but he caught me again and my mind connection broke. I lifted a hand to cup the side of his face and draw him closer into the passion of the moment. He stopped it again and locked his gloved fingers with my hand, pressing it to his face and sighing a bit.
"Faye…" He whispered, "Don't pretend you hate me…" My eyes opened to the darkness and I blinked back tears. But I refused to surrender.
"I don't have to pretend." I stated, slipping from his arms and grabbing my things. "Good night, Monsieur."
A/N: Yep. That sucked.