disclaimer: forgot to mention this on the first two chapters, but this is not mine.

Belle Nuit

Part three: Voices

Nuit sat on her cot and listened. The opera going on above echoed crisply through the tunnels under the theater. She always listened to the performances from below, envisioning every step of the ballet. Afterwards she would join in the throng backstage. It was the only time she could see the singers and dancers that had inspired her imagination in person without getting caught.

Christine Daae's voice seemed to float, twirling and dancing softly through the air. Nuit had always felt a small attachment to the older girl. She too was an orphan, living around the theater. Now as she lay down and listened to the aria she could picture it perfectly in her mind. A snow-white dress flowing onto the stage, stars glittering peacefully in her curls, and her face lit up by the lights and the thrill of the applause. Too soon, though, the opera was over. Making sure she looked decent enough to blend in, Nuit snuck upstairs.

The crowd backstage was larger than usual, the air thick with cheering, flowers, and a hint of smoke and alcohol. Mme. Daae had been a massive success and her dressing room was already over flowing with bouquets by the time Nuit reached it. There was a young man nearby, seemingly involved in conversation with the new owners, but he kept glancing around, as if searching for someone. He was finely dressed and stood with propriety. His hair was soft and brown, flowing almost to his shoulders. At first glance, he was handsome, charming, rich, and polite, but then Nuit saw his eyes. They were beady, dark, little things with haughtiness and a touch of lust hidden beneath his gaze. It was clear that he was used to getting what he wanted.

Nuit immediately did not like him, and when his eye fell upon Christine, that only intensified that feeling. Hardly even saying a word, he grabbed the bouquet that M. Firmin had been holding and stepped into her dressing room. He was going to try to win the heart of the newest opera star, and by doing so; he was taking on the phantom of the opera.

Overcome by a sudden panic, Nuit raced back towards her cot, going out of her way to use passages that were too small for Erik to fit through. He was bound to be irate about this. Already, she could hear his footsteps echoing on the stone. Oh well, as long as he doesn't do anything rash, everything should be fine, Nuit reassured herself. She let herself drift into a light, restless slumber. However, it didn't last long.

Nuit was awoken by voices, two voices to be exact. One was hesitant, unsure, and a little scared, while the other was filled with power and longing, and was it just sleepy hallucination, or were they coming closer? She couldn't believe her ears. The young girl waited until the voices had passed, then tentatively crept after them. Following the voices deeper and deeper into the crypts, her worst fears were realized: Erik had brought Christine Daae to his musical lair.

Now knowing the destination, Nuit slipped down an alternate route to avoid being seen. As she neared the cave, she stopped. What was she doing here anyway? It was none of her business in the first place, and what did she plan on doing once she got there? Sure, Christine shouldn't have been brought here, but who was a twelve-year-old girl to tell a murderer what to do? Shutting her mind off from all reason, Nuit stepped into the light and she knew there was no turning back.

"Erik…"

Immediately his dark eyes snapped in her direction. They were a mix of fury, disbelief and fear.

"Who are you?" He growled, staring at the pale, trembling child standing before him.

Her voice faltered at the sheer intensity of his question.

"I said, who are you!"

He repeated fiercely, his voice magnified as it echoed in the surrounding crypts. She was petrified out of her mind, yet somehow she managed to form an answer.

"M-My name is Nuit. You don't know who I am, but I've been living in these passageways for the past ten years. I know that you've been hiding down here for almost your whole life and are probably very lonely, but please monsieur you have to take Mme. Daae back. She has a life and a career up there and you would just end up hurting her by keeping her down here. I know that I really have no right to ask this of you, but please, monsieur, please…"

Tears had found their way into her eyes as she nervously babbled on. Eric looked on, pity slowly entwining the conceited fury in his heart. The poor child had as little as him, and as scared as she was, she still had enough courage to confront him.

He turned, his black cape billowing dramatically in his wake as he sat before his organ. Nuit just stood there for what seemed to her as hours as he thought. She had stopped trembling, but she dared not do or say anything more. Finally, but without turning to her, he spoke.

"Of course I will let Christine return. I could not will myself to keep her down here if she would be unhappy. She is asleep now, so I will take her back in the morning… You should go as well; it is very late."

With that he rose, and before Nuit could grasp what had happened, Eric had disappeared. She distractedly walked back to her cot, not even trying to dampen the sloshing water beneath her feet. As she fell asleep once more, she could have sworn she heard a faint melody, a waltz perhaps, weighed down with sorrow and regret, yet still light and almost surreal.

Nuit dreamt of fish. There was a glass bowl, maybe it was crystal, but how it sparkled radiantly in the light. Inside, there was a miniature castle, complete with a drawbridge and a flag on the highest tower, its color slightly faded from the sun. An old fish lived in the castle. He was a beta, a fighting fish, scarred deeply from earlier days. Having lost a lot, he was almost possessive of his castle. It was the only thing dear to him. There was another fish too, a tiny, little tetra. She lived on the other side of the bowl and was fascinated by the proud old beta and his castle. One day, though, the tetra awoke to witness a giant hand drop a new fish into the tank. He was another beta and he was much younger and more colorful, without a scale out of place. He had set his eyes on the castle and was eyeing it greedily. Without a second's delay, he attacked the old fish inside it. They fought ferociously while the tetra looked on helplessly. Blow after blow, the two betas fought, and eventually, the flashy new beta had taken the castle and the older one, close to death, hid in the shadow. Upon seeing the brutal fight between the two larger fish, the same hand scooped up the old beta dropped it onto ground, its gills screaming for air as it flopped, slowly dying…

A/N: I am sooooo sorry it took so long getting this up. I tried writing it, got writer's block, went to camp for a month, came back, got more writer's block, school started, and I got even more writer's block. It took over two months to get it done, didn't it? To be honest, it wasa review (I have four!)that got me back on track.

Ridel: you have no idea how honored I am that you put this story on your favorites list.

Soooooo, we meet Raoul, Nuit meets Eric, and we finally get some dialogue. Well, not much, but oh well. I also like the dream scene. No,I have no idea why a girl who's never seen a fish before in her life would be dreaming about tropical fish in a tank, but I don't really care. It was fun to write and it was a nice break from caves and crypts. Also, foreshadowing is fun, even though anyone reading this probably knows the ending, there are a few little twists and turnsI can throw in without changing the story.

Next chapter: the phantom decides to further Christine's career with a series of notes, including one for a certain little girl...

By the way, I'd also like to thank Mary for putting up with my horrible drafts and making sure what I post isn't too pathetic.