Shade: The chapter title isn't meant to be any type of parody or affiliation w/ the Passion of the Christ. Just letting you all know.
"Bravi, bravi, bravissimi!" –Angel of Music
Chapter 16: The Passion of the Dark Aphrodite
"It's tonight!" my nerves screamed at me as I frantically adorned myself with bright silks and makeup. My heart hammered in my chest, threatening to burst from my ribcage. Tonight was the opening night for the production of the play, "Aladin et de sa Lampe Merveilleuse." I needed to be absolutely perfect; a lot of pressure had stacked itself upon this play. I refused to fail myself again.
I fidgeted nervously backstage, gnawing on my lip, which threatened to blossom blood at any moment. I prayed that Erik had not devised a fatal disaster for this performance; I asked much of Allah lately.
The most common prayer I recited religiously was the hope that Erik would prove to me that he was sorry and he wanted me again. Of course, I knew that that would go unanswered. I had lost him . . . forever. I felt myself grow elated as I occupied myself with fantasies of him singing to me, dedicating his heart to me as I had done for him.
Though he had annulled our marriage as if it were nothing more than a counterfeit franc piece, my heart would lay with him every night, since my body had been denied.
"Are you nervous, Nasrin?" Jean asked me, smiling down at me. How I wished to shatter his smile at the moment. His need to be near me at all times always reminded me of how terribly I had failed both Erik and myself. I certainly was in no mood to toy with him now. I wished he would simply occupy himself with traipsing down the labyrinth.
"Can you tell?" I spat harshly.
He laughed, a rather bright sound it was to my ears. Though I wanted nothing light anymore; since I had been above, I had craved darkness, yearned to be cloaked in shadow once more.
"You are shaking. Isn't this type of performance what you excelled in back home?"
"Well yes, but this is far larger a crowd than I have ever performed before."
Jean bent down and kissed my head. "You will do a divine job."
I glared up at him angrily. "Do not kiss any part of me at the moment. I am in an unbalanced mood."
"You have been as long as I've known you," he said jokingly. I didn't find that funny in the slightest. He became somber. "Are you still mourning over your husband's absence?" His eyes betrayed that he seemed shocked at the thought. I hadn't told him of our annulment. I didn't want him making every effort to court me just yet. My soul was still in mourning.
"Of course," I lied. "He was my dark muse."
"Forget about the bastard. It is probable that he has already forgotten you. Why else would he ignore you so?" Jean suggested.
That was a nerve never meant to be touched. My rage flared within me and I felt as though the fires of Hades blazed in every fiber of my being. No one had personified spite as I did in that moment. I grabbed his velvet jacket and slammed him harshly into the wall. I was upset that his skull didn't crack open.
"Don't you ever speak a word against Erik; not while I have breath in me." My voice was low and harsh, and I found myself likening it to that of a serpent.
"Why are you so defensive of one who doesn't love you?" It was apparent that this Comte was raised with manners and nothing else, for he excelled at making me infuriated to the point of a tantrum.
"Because I love him! Is that so hard to understand?" I fought back a swell of tears, remembering that I wore elaborate makeup that would run if I wept.
"No, because I love you too. I know what it is like to have unrequited love." His expression became somber, though his slate gray eyes looked no different.
"Stop saying it! Stop!" I hissed, setting him down.
He looked down at me with heartache and confusion. He looked as broken as I felt. My nerves regained control as the overture began to play and I turned from him, not wanting to remember his look of rejection.
Soon, my cue came. I walked daintily onto the stage, keeping my posture as flawless as I could as my heart thundered. I looked first at the audience, noting that their gazes were filled with expectancy. My eyes wandered to where the chandelier once hung. In the gaping hole I saw a figure standing, only illuminated by a sliver of white on his face.
"I dance for you tonight, Erik. Forgive me," I mumbled as the music began. And, just as the notes began to climb into a dramatic climax, I began to dance, slowly at first, then speeding up as my passion grew. My outfit twirled about me as I turned.
I wore silks of gold and red that tumbled from my shoulders down to the middle of my stomach. My lower stomach was left exposed for the audience to see; and I held none of my sensual and alluring moves back. I contorted my stomach, feeling my breath shorten as I bared my heart and soul to Erik. For him I made certain that my movements were fluid, entrancing and tempting to every human sense. For what seemed like an eternity, my passion grew until it climaxed and fell. My ardent dance was over and I stood, panting and still on the stage, my legs stock straight as I balanced myself.
I knew that every pair of eyes that belonged to a man, Persian or Parisian, were locked on me. I looked once more at my captive audience, who were still locked in a stupor before smiling demurely and traipsing off the stage. Silence followed my exit and I saw sullen eyes meet mine.
"Perhaps they didn't like it," Madame Giry suggested somberly. I just smiled at her, my chest heaving with uncaught breath.
"Give them a few moments," I said, turning back in the direction of the theater. "Ready? Three, two, one . . ." On one, the opera house erupted into wild applause, deep masculine cheers rumbling the walls. I grinned and rolled my eyes playfully, laughing. "In shock, just like my first customers. They always come around." I sniggered and wiped my face off with a cool cloth. The cloth felt so good against my sweating flesh.
"They want an encore," Giry told me, motioning to the stage and smiling widely.
I smirked, my haughtiness not forgotten in my forlorn hopes of love. "Well, they will have to cheer much louder than that."
As if on command, the applause swelled into an uproar, roses being thrown on stage in a blizzard of crimson. I laughed harder, feeling my ego inflate with their rumbling cheers.
"I give in!" I cried in faux exasperation and walked back on the stage, where the uproar grew into chaos. I felt myself blush as I danced a few steps, my mouth cracking into the largest smile I have ever known. When I had felt I had done what was sufficient for an encore, I walked off the stage, leaving the stagehands to clean up my roses. I wanted to powder my face, feeling as though most of my makeup had been taken off, whether from sweat, the cloth, or the tears no one saw me shed on stage.
I walked past Giry, smiling at her. "And to think, the opera hasn't even started yet," I cooed. Oh yes, my pride was alive and growing.
The sounds of the opera reached my ears and I hummed along quietly, not wanting to be heard, as I closed the door to my dressing room. I sat down in front of the vanity, smiling into the new mirror Monsieur Firmin had given me, once he realized that my other one had 'accidentally' shattered.
I powdered my face, restoring its artificial luminescence and adjusting my outfit, untangling my necklaces and bracelets. I looked at myself again, this time in the large dressing room mirror, the one Erik usually hid behind. Something in my eyes, I had noticed, had dulled significantly and I always looked emotionless or bored. I hated it; it didn't even fade when I smiled.
I was reapplying my blush when a low, mellifluous voice whispered through the room. "Bravi, bravi, bravissimi." The voice sounded as though some one by my side spoke it; although I knew that no one stood beside me.
"Hello Erik," I said flatly. "What do you want?"
The voice came again, deep, sensuous.
"Nasrin, dear heart, don't you know me?
My beautiful, sensual bride,
I know it won't be too much longer
'Till at last you're mine!"
"What?" I roared, my eyebrows knitted in fury. I opened the door to the mirror in raw fury, scathed by his words. However, my original suspicions were false, and I was only met with darkness.
Erik laughed with craftiness. "Not there, my dear."
I growled and closed the door, looking into the vanity mirror. There was a reflection there that wasn't present before. I saw Erik behind me, a black rose held loosely in his hand. How . . . when did he get there? He began to draw closer to me, his white shirt hanging loosely on his chest. His white mask was tight against his masculine face, and his lips curled into that knowing smirk I knew so well.
The way his lips were formed made me think of feverish, unbridled kissing and I clenched my lips between my teeth to keep from pursuing such a desirable fantasy. I hadn't seen him this striking in a while and a knot formed in me just looking at him.
"I am here." He put his hand on my head. "And here." He placed his hand over my heart, feeling it thrum to his touch. His hand began to wander slowly down my chest, his rough fingers triggering a variety of enviable sensations. Against my brain's warning, my judgment quickly began to cloud and my control began to wane as he pressed his body against mine, his chest against my back. My head fell flaccidly back against his shoulder. His scent was of musky roses, and it enveloped me, tempted me beyond what I had ever felt before. I wanted him so badly that my soul seemed to shiver in longing. Farther and farther I fell into the depths of insurmountable passion, until the memory of our last meeting manifested at random in my brain.
Rage bubbled inside of me, oppressing the near overpowering wishes of my body.
"No," I said, pushing him away brutally. I faced him angrily, incredulous at his sudden change of heart. "You said that you didn't want me as a wife anymore."
"I changed my mind," Erik said simply, offering me the rose.
Oh no, Erik. Winning me back will require a lot more than a moronic explanation like that, even when coupled with a dark rose. If you want me back, you will have to show me that it is I you love. You have far more ground to cover than you believe. For now, I will set you in your place.
I took the rose in my hands and gazed up at him, pretending to think about receiving the enticing gift. Looking back at the rose, I dramatically pushed it back into his arms, making an extra effort to press the thorns against his skin. Now it was my turn, my darling.
"You cannot be so capricious, Erik. Am I your wife for now and ever, or aren't I?" I asked sternly, my eyes narrowed. It is time to make you see that your actions speak more to me than your words.
Erik looked at the rose pressed up against his chest, his eyes blinking as if not believing or predicting this outcome. He took it back and twirled it in his fingers. In a move I hadn't anticipated, he grabbed my hand and pressed it against the cool flesh of his chest. Oh Allah, have mercy and give me strength before I push him onto the bed behind him and give into my carnal temptations.
"Do you feel this, Fire Ro . . . Nasrin?" He corrected himself with pursed lips. Some respect was coming into play; perhaps I could dignify him with a truthful answer.
"It's your heart, and right now it is beating hard. Yes, I feel it." I didn't move my hand from his chest and my fingers twitched involuntarily against his skin. I looked up at him. His pursed lips exuded a sensual pull that beat away at my conscious and tantalized my already throbbing senses.
"It beats for you." He drew his face closer to mine, his other hand caressing my jaw, his fingers sweeping gently across my lips, causing a tingling sensation to burn throughout my body. It wasn't going to be much longer before I lost control and threw myself in his arms, verbally begging him to take me and make me his in every way. Those unbearably perfect lips moved again. "For you, Nasrin." Regain control, I told myself, don't let him have control over you. Show him your strength.
I shook away the darkest desires of her body. "No, you cannot seduce me into giving myself completely. I know you want my flesh; if that is all you desire, you will never lay with me."
Erik's eyes softened. "Is that what you think? That I only yearn for your flesh?"
I grimaced. "It's what I know." I pulled my hand from his chest and walked over to the vanity.
"Remember this, my little Fire Rose," Erik cooed, removing my wig and stroking my distortion as though it was nothing more than a scrape. I felt tears burn behind my eyes. He leaned down and kissed my head affectionately. I reluctantly pulled away, fiercely wanting to hold true to my word. He moved away and walked towards the mirror, his eyes dark with confusion.
"It is imperative that you know something," Erik said as he slid the glass from the mirror aside.
"And what is that?" I asked with bated breath as I reapplied my ruby lipstick.
He cloaked himself in shadow, though his voice remained. "If I cannot have you for my own, no one will."
The severity of his voice and frightened me and I felt an inescapable sense of dread. I slowly looked down at the makeup table. There, over the mascara, lipstick, and face powder, lay the black rose.
Quickly, I fled the room, feeling his presence becoming dark with obsession. I ran with the company, taking the final bow and blending in with everyone around me. Despite this attempt at camouflage, I could still hear Erik's laughter, mad with power.
Still he sang in my head, "I know it won't be too much longer, 'till at last . . . you're . . . MINE!"
Notes:
The opera title I do not own, nor do I know if it's a real opera. Credit where credit is due. Also, it translates (for those who don't speak French) to Aladdin and his Marvelous Lamp. I figured if Nasrin were going to be in an opera, it would have to have Middle Eastern music to which she could dance.
A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers! (blows kisses)
Maidenhair: Glad you liked it! I actually haven't had some one give me a long flame telling me I'm an idiot. But my friend did, she just wrote them a very calm e-mail about it (they signed in.) If the flame was anonymous, just let it roll off your shoulder. I mean, if you were written to by 2 publishers, than obviously you know you're not. That's what really matters. (nods) And of course I will keep writing! It is my passion, lol. Thank you so much for the review and here is your update!
Jessie: LOL, well, welcome back! So glad you liked the last two posts! Thanks for the review and here is your update! (bows)
littledarkone: Thank you! No, Nasrin and Erik aren't married anymore. I know, it's sad. I know, if you don't like Jean now, just wait. And you'll see how Nasrin and Erik deal with their "divorce" Let's just say it leads to a rather undesirable circumstance. But you will see! I promise if you stick with it, you will be happy! (I hope!) Anyway, thank you so much for the review and here is your update! (trumpet fanfare)
xxXGoddessXofXdeadXloveXxx: All right (gives you infinite boxes of tissues) just in case. GO HUGH! (celebrates) And all right, Erik!
Erik: What do you want?
Shade: xxXGoddessXofXdeadXloveXxx says you need a spanking.
Erik: (O).O;; I beg your parden?
Shade: Bend over. NOW.
Erik: (bends over)
Shade: (spanks)
Erik: DAMN YOU!
Shade: LOL, thanks for the review and here is your update! You can spank him if you like!
Mademoiselle Justicia: LOL, well the angst will increase, cuz as you know, Nasrin is obsessively in love with Erik and Erik pretty much has one thought on his mind: Bring Nasrin home and bang her. (nervous laughter) sorry to be so abrupt about it, but it's true. Erik is still a genius I assure you . . . however, look at him, he isn't used to anyone being in love with him. He's always gotten the short end of the straw, so he probably doesn't recognize it because he's never seen it before. The 'his bride' thing: I'm sure Nasrin is more pissed that she isn't his 'wife', which would imply to her that they had already had sex. But now they are divorced, so Nasrin isn't just gonna run down and bang Erik at random, she's too proud for that. Revenge through the fop . . . well, this fop won't exactly enjoy it when he puts his (little) brain to good use. And that spells something for our little Fire Rose (or Dark Aphrodite, whichever you prefer.) The signs she spoke of, that she was frightened of him . . . yeah. (buttons lips) Anyway, you are welcome for the dedication. I hope you haven't done too much to our little Erik! Nasrin needs him, lol. Thanks for the review and here is your update! (hey if you want him back, there's always review number 200.) (winks) lol.
DragonheartRAB: Yeah, he was. You could tell though, he has strong feelings for her, just he's confused as to what he can do with them. Nasrin is indeed a bit of a seductress. (nervous laughter) Though she is smart, she knows how to act and everything. As for Jean . . . don't feel bad. I know you want to . . . but don't, lol. You saw in this chappy, he doesn't exactly understand how Nasrin feels about Erik. Anyway, thanks for the review and here is your update!
Dragon-mage16: Then I shall make certain they are the guillotine's only victims. Mwahaha. Well, the trap she falls into . . . I wish was Erik's bed. That'd be nice, cuz you know they both wanna. She falls into more of a metaphorical trap, if my memory serves me correctly. O.O;;;;; Erik in his bedroom covered in chocolate? (rocks back and forth with you) Oh good god is that a cruel vision. I want! (grabs at vision) Oooh, that'd be SO hot. (fans self) Well, thanks for the review, and here is your update!
harem98: Hello, welcome to my reviewing family! I'm pleased that you like my story. It's always good to hear. (bows) And come on, it seems you and I both know that the play lyrics are SO much better than the movie. That "in all your fantasies" part in POTO was my absolute favorite part of that song, and they took it out! Bastards. Hey, glad you like Nasrin. I don't like making characters that are like, "Erik! Save me!" like every four seconds. Not all girls are damsels in distress, damnit! And I tried to bring that out in Nasrin. Glad you liked it! Anyway, thanks for the reviews, here is your update!
Maska: Yep, two strong willed characters testing each other's limits. Thank you! I'm trying to keep Erik as realistic as possible: intensely romantic, possessive, etc. And Nasrin is very much the same, so yeah. I'm so happy you love them and that your completely absorbed. That is so flattering to hear! Thank you! Does Nasrin like Jean? Well, there is some sort of attraction there, but as you read, she feels uneasy around him sometimes. Her feelings towards Erik are by far more passionate, sexual, etc. Why are all the Comts and Vicomtes girlie? It's 1870's in Paris! Fashion was so in, especially for the nobles. Plus, who couldn't use another fop to torment? Mwahaha. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Jen Lennon: Thank you so much! Welcome to my reviewing family, lol. I'm so flattered. (bows) yes, I am finding the 1st person POV a lot better. It is a lot more personal and more like they're telling the story and you already know them. It's much more reader attracting if they seem to be told the story. Am I making sense or just blathering? Lol. Anyway, thank you for the review and here is your update! Remember: in the way I write, things get worse and worse until they are unbearable before they get better. LOL.
tink8812: LOL! I hadn't intended her to be . . . but she kinda turned out that way didn't she? Oh well, if people like it! (bows) Thank you for the kudos! (really you don't think anyone has ever done that before? Wow, I feel original! YAY!) Anyway, thank you so much for the review! (welcome to my review family, lol.) And here is your update!
Kitariki: YAY! LOL, glad you love my story, and I'm glad your site thing is working. W00t! Thanks for reviewing, here is your update!