A/N: Sorry it keeps taking me so long to update, I know I am a horrible person, but I find writing dialogue a lot harder than writing anything else, so it takes me longer to finish a chapter.
By the time we finally crossed the lake once again, I was exhausted. The climb down the stairs should have been easy, but after climbing up them then dancing a waltz on the rooftop, my legs ached and I felt like pins were pricking my feet with every step I took. My pain in my ankle was returning, and I began limping about half way down te stairs. Erik, noticing my fatigue and my limp, placed one hand on my shoulder, and the other one my elbow, so that I could rest my weight on him instead of on my ankle. The trip was a long one, but he made no attempt at conversation, and I was too tired to think of something to say.
The first thing he did upon returning to the cavern was offer me something to eat, an offer I accepted with great pleasure. It seemed to me that whenever he felt too awkward to do anything else, he fed me. Not that I minded, of course, a girl has to eat, but I didn't like the idea that he was uncomfortable around me. I had always considered myself a reasonably comfortable person to be around, and I was a little insulted by his constant wavering back and forth between warmth and distance. He really needed to just decide whether he liked me or not and be done with it.
Erik moved to his organ, and began to play, a song I recognized from my brief contact with opera.
"Must you always play such awfully depressing music?" I asked, part jokingly. He turned to glare at me, then continued playing, annoyed at the interruption
"You don't like it?"
"I enjoy hearing you play; you are really quite good. But I can't say I appreciate your choice of songs. They tend to be so gloomy."
He stopped playing, and turned so that he was facing her.
"This is a love song, Remy."
"From Othello, right? I know the song. It's a very touching romance story. Until Othello strangles Desdemona to death, that is."
He was staring intently into my eyes now, apparently a little startled by my comments.
"I didn't know you were familiar with Opera."
"Just because I don't live below an Opera House doesn't mean I am entirely ignorant. I have seen a few performances, heard a few songs played in stylish parlors. I can't say that Othello was a favorite of mine, though."
"Oh, really? And what is a favorite of yours?"
"I've only ever seen a few Operas, but I rather liked Orpheus and Eurydice."
Erik gave me a withering glance, as if to suggest that my preferences were the very height of stupidity. "Gluck's score grates on your ears after having heard the genius of Verdi."
"I think perhaps you misunderstand me; I have no real education in music, so I am not judging the relative genius of their composers. I merely enjoyed the story of Orpheus much better than that of Othello. I suppose I never cared much for either Desdemona or Othello, and found it hard to sympathize with them."
"Perhaps you did not understand the passion of their relationship, if you could have no sympathy for them." He was getting defensive, as if I was attacking his own character, rather than just an opera, and the sight was an amusing one.
"Forgive me, I did not make my meaning quite clear. I feel a great deal of sympathy for Desdemona, but cannot empathize with her character. And I do not find Othello deserving of any sympathy at all."
He actually looked as though he was enjoying our verbal sparring, his face becoming, for once, animated with an emotion other than rage or sorrow. "You do not?" He asked, as if he could not believe I could be so cold-hearted towards the Moor.
"I do not. What kind of man is so quick to judge, so quick to believe that his wife had betrayed him?"
"His love for her.."
"What love?" I interrupted, before he could finish. "If he had truly loved her, he would have had more faith in her, he would have asked for an explanation. He felt nothing more than passion for her."
"Nothing more than passion? You speak of passion as though it was something undesirable! Did Orpheus not feel passion for Eurydice? Is that not what led him to the gates of Hell to fetch her back! " Finally, I had broken through his casual reserve; he gestured with his arms, and he face was genuinely expressive.
"By itself, passion is undesirable. You are confusing passion with love, the two are not the same at all."
"Well, since you are so wise, perhaps to would care to enlighten me." His voice dripped with sarcasm, but lacked the cold cruelty he used when he was actually angry.
"Passion is one part of love, one small piece of the puzzle. To really love someone, you must feel some passion towards them, but love is not complete without respect and trust. When you love someone, you only want what is best for them, and are willing to sacrifice anything for them, as Orpheus did for Eurydice. But Othello did not respect or trust Desdemona; if he had, he would not have been so quick to believe what Iago tried to convince him of, and he certainly would not have taken the extreme measure of killing her as a punishment for her supposed infidelity. My mother used to say that passion and love are both like fire; the difference is that love will keep you warm in the cold, but passion will consume you in its flames."
For a few moments, he remained silent, staring at me in a most unnerving manner.
"Very well said. You are a great deal more intelligent than I gave you credit for."
"I'm not sure whether to be insulted thought you thought I was a fool, or gratified that you changed your mind."
"You ought to be flattered; there are very few people in this world of whom I have the slightest respect, but you are proving to be one of them."
I was terribly flattered, both at what he said and by the very fact that he was comfortable enough to say it, but it would not have been very discreet to show how exactly how happy his words had made me.
"Thank you, I appreciate the compliment."
He smirked at the prim note that had crept into my voice, the result of years of training in how to accept a compliment like a lady.
"Surely you realize that in the story of Orpheus, he loses Eurydice by looking back at when he was specifically instructed not to? Is that not also a fault?"
"I agree, it is a fault, and it was stupid of him, but it was a more realistic, believably human fault than Othello's. Hasn't everyone lost something that they love through some stupid mistake, or premature action? Most men are not murderous like Othello, but many of us have small faults that deny us of that which we desire most. Of course, the opera gives us a happy ending, but in the legend, he loses her for good."
"You have given it a great deal more thought than I, so I shall leave you to interpretation, and critique only the music."
"Then I will concede that the music of Othello is truly magnificent, and I am sure, the work of a genius. I fear that my enjoyment of the opera stories is severely limited by my tastes, but I do enjoy the music."
"And why is it that you dislike the stories? I though every woman was fond of sweeping romances and stirring tragedies." Now he was mocking me, but with facetiousness rather than malice.
"I suppose I am too practical to find any of it believable; isn't there sadness enough in real life without contriving a way to kill every likable character in the story? And if I could choose between romance accompanied by quiet whispers and loving looks, and romance characterized by grand prologues and magnificent arias, I would choose the first."
"A true romantic." While I was speaking, he had walked over to where I was seated, and now he sat down beside me.
"Hardly. I don't believe there are any romantic tendencies left in me." The strangest thoughts passed through my mind as I said this, contradicting my words even as I spoke them. Looking at Erik's profile as he sat beside me, I began to think that he was actually rather handsome, despite the scarred flesh I knew was hidden behind the mask. I found this revelation profoundly unsettling, as I realized that I was subconsciously wishing that I was a little cleaner, and little less bruised, and a little better dressed. I was suddenly self-conscious about my ragged hair, and the scar that I knew must be very visible on my cheek.
I knew I was being ridiculous; none of that mattered. Soon, I would be gone, safe in Marseille with friends, and this whole situation would seem like some strange dream. What did it matter if I was not at this moment particularly attractive; I had been hovering on the edge of death a week before, it was a miracle I looked and felt as good as I did. My reason, though, was very quickly losing the war with my instinct, and I knew that I could not let myself stay in such close quarters with Erik.
"I don't suppose you would like to play a song from Orpheus for me? I know you didn't care as much for the music, but I love that aria of his from act three, when he believes he has lost Eurydice."
Erik seemed a little confused by my sudden request, but graciously acquiesced. I didn't really like that aria any better than any other I had heard, but I needed to separate myself from the warmth of his body without being rude, and he did seem flattered by my asking.
Of course, like so many other things I had done, requesting that he play the song for me was a rather large mistake, especially as I had not taken into account that he would sing it as well as play it. When he began, any reason I might have had left in me fled, allowing my foolish emotions to have their way. The actual performance I had seen of this opera could not compare to Erik's rendition; his playing was perfect, he did not miss a note, and his voice was so sad and longing that I could actually believe that he was Orpheus, mourning for his beloved. Tears sprang unbidden to my eyes, and my throat was so choked I could not have spoken, even had I wanted to break the spell his music was casting over me.
With my final scrap of resolve, I stood up, and walked silently to my room, where I could cry without him seeing, and recover my senses before I did anything I might regret.
A/N: I actually have not seen either of these Operas, nor doI know which has better music, but it gives my characters something to talk about, so I put them in.