Author's notes: MotN, anyone? (everyone yells "ME! ME!") Heh, okay. So, we have it here! This was one hell of a struggle, so I hope Erik isn't OOC. Yes, his POV again… I'll switch back to Christine (or should I do Raoul? (shudders)) later. Writing Erik is somehow easier. And it makes more sense, since Christine is relatively dazzled now. Anyway, chocolate for anyone who finds the little Leroux joke!
Mademoiselle Phantom – yay, thanks for reviewing!
Enrinye – love da parodies, Z. ;-) Anyway, have a read of this. I wanna know what you think.
EriksIngenue – here you go. It was that romantic? Heh, thanks. That means it's good.
lady kathrin – the wait is over… let the fantasy begin! (runs from group of lawyers shouting something about copyright)
starnat – thanks, here's MotN.
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Chapter 7 – IlluminationX X X X
The trap was set and its prey was speechless.
That could be one way to describe the current situation. Yet who was the hunter and who the prey? I was just as mesmerized as the white angel in front of me. But this was my territory and my domain – I had the power over the material world here.
My task was clear. All fear or wariness must disappear, even though there were probably only shreds of them left, due to my… gentleness? That sounded unusual. I normally held others in check thanks to my voice, not my behavior. Again, I had to remind myself that this was different. I was treading in dangerous waters. Thus I would have to use whatever I could to its fullest extent, to show her that despite my pretense and deception, I would never, ever, harm her, of all people.
Nighttime sharpens
Heightens each sensation
The song seemed to find its way into my mouth naturally. True, I had composed it for her and especially for this moment, which I knew was nearing itself. It had taken me a long time to even find the right inspiration. What should I sing about? While she without a doubt deserved admiration, singing flattery about her virtues and beauty was plain ridiculous.
Darkness stirs
And wakes imagination
Singing of myself was out of the question, not least of all because of the laughable nature of the very idea. Besides, there were few happy things in my life, few deeds of which I was proud and each had a sad ending and a parting to go with it.
Turn your face away
From the garish light of day
Daylight. Even the word sounded garish and pompous to my ears. Day meant discovery, people, noise…
Turn your thoughts away
From cold, unfeeling light
People say that the days are warm, that light cheers you up. It never worked for me. Forever was I "doomed" to wander the world only after the light had faded. I learned to love the darkness… and, if there must be light, let it be the moon and stars!
And listen to the music of the night…
Indeed, the music was soft, you could easily miss it during the rush of daytime, but when it was dark and there were no disrupting sounds, those who listened heard it. I did, anyway.
Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!
Christine, now out of the boat safely, thanks to my help, obliged and stopped, closing her eyes. For the moment, I had to let go of her hand, but it was worth the sight. She understood… my faithful student was beginning to see and hear. She began to listen to the music that I alone seemed to hear.
Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before!
Especially any thoughts of that damned Vicomte. Really, he couldn't have picked a better time to come and ruin my plans if he tried. I would have to deal with that problem soon.
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!
Her head rising along with my voice, I was certain that Christine would spread her arms and start floating in a moment.
And you'll live as you've never lived before…
When she opened her eyes and glanced at me, I was almost certain that I could do anything in that very moment. I moved towards her again, daring to believe that this wasn't just another feverish dream or a cruel mirage, that it was real, that Christine, my Christine, was looking at me without fear or repulsion.
Softly, deftly
music shall caress you
At least music could be bold enough to do what I couldn't… not yet, anyway.
Hear it, feel it
secretly possess you
Again I led her by then hand carefully, showing her whatever I could of the "outer" chamber. Giving someone a tour of my home wasn't exactly my intention when I built it – I wanted solitude, but my weakness for beauty in all its forms didn't allow me to part with all the wonderful furniture I had… inherited, you could say and I certainly wanted whatever I had to make on my own to be of the highest quality.
Open up your mind!
Let your fantasies unwind!
Her mind was probably struggling to comprehend all that had happened to her in the past minutes. Mine was equally focused on the desperate attempts not to take my own lyrics too seriously.
In this darkness that you know you cannot fight…
Any of her defenses, be it mental or physical, were dropped – she followed me without question, latching onto each word of the song. What she at first thought to be a dream must seem strangely realistic to her now.
The darkness of the music of the night…
Wide-eyed, Christine surveyed the surroundings, her mouth slightly open. But at the same time, she was trying to focus her attention on me, her guide and guardian in this strange underground wonderland.
Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world!
Now she was starting to understand that the dream wasn't a dream at all. Slowly but surely, she saw that it was real, as was I, as was the strange dream world around her.
Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before!
And she was accepting it without question, seeing that here, there were no unkind people to mock or hurt her, only music… and the man she called her Angel.
Let your soul take you where you long to be!
It remained questionable if she would still refer to me as such in the morning, when the last piece of the puzzle would fall into place and she would realize that her Angel was also the Phantom of the Opera.
Only then can you belong to me…
Now, finally, I dared risk touching her, turning her back towards me, so that her head would rest on my shoulder. The scent of her hair and skin reached my senses – our proximity allowed that perfectly. This part of the dream was my dream… not hers, which was regrettable to some extent, but also understandable. Angels were above the mortal need for touch.
I wasn't. This could have been a signal for her, if the music wasn't surrounding and captivating her.
Floating, falling
Sweet intoxication
She made no move to stop my hands as they almost hungrily explored her and the lower part of her corset. Even if I wasn't an angel, as I was certain of not least of all because of my current bliss due to this closeness to Christine, I was in Heaven… and an angel was with me.
A true, pure, innocent angel. Not even God Himself would be able to snatch her from me now – I would strike him down without a second thought. I may have moments when I am sorry for the sins I have committed during my travels… but stealing this angel from God wasn't something I would regret.
Touch me, trust me
Savor each sensation
I brought her hand to the left side of my face – the side that was, compared to what lied beneath the mask, perfectly normal. I could be called handsome, perhaps, if the other side matched this. But I have never aimed for physical beauty… all I wanted was to be like everyone else. Normal. Endurable to look at. Now, only the mask enabled that.
A long breath, close to a soft moan, escaped Christine's lips. I made the choice – I would show her now. Explanations could wait. She had to see that I didn't simply want to control her voice or claim her body. I wanted Christine Daaé, all of her, in every possible way. I no longer wanted to be lonely. I never did, not since the day I saw her in the chapel.
Let the dream begin!
I was already dreaming, you know. Dreaming of what might be…
If… if there is a merciful God in Heaven, like the Christians claim, he will allow me this one mercy. I would swear and swear gladly to Him that I would never sin again, never kill or steal or blackmail or do anything that He sees as an evil… only if he would allow me, a soul condemned to be viewed as a Devil's child, one thing – her love.
Let your darker side give in!
There was no tomorrow, only now. I was leading her by the hand again, towards the lace curtain hiding the greatest mark of my obsession with her. Would she be shocked, I wonder? I had spent months perfecting the face alone – it was one of my first attempts, as I was no sculptor, but the mannequin was as close to perfection as it could get. Of course, nothing could be as close to perfection as the model, but I did my best nonetheless.
To the power of the music that I write…
She smiled at me gently and if I were bold enough to believe in what I saw in her eyes, I would stop and claim one of the kisses that have been denied to me during the years of my life. For in her eyes, I saw acceptance and affection. I saw a yes there.
The power of the music of the night…
Pushing the curtain away, I forced myself to motion to her to turn away and look, gesturing to the dummy in the bridal gown. It was a shock, I knew, so I wasn't that unprepared for her reaction. The young girl was too overwhelmed by the unspoken proposal, especially if she still believed I was her Angel. I doubt she ever considered in her wildest dreams that I might care for her more than I showed her.
Poor, trusting Christine. She had no idea. She didn't know of the many nights I dreamed of her and allowed my mind to escape into outrageous dreams of a future with her, a life filled with music and joy with her as my wife.
I caught her swiftly as she swayed and fainted, falling into my welcoming embrace. Scooping her up, I carried her to the room I had prepared for her, the room that was to be hers during her stay and hopefully even longer. The swan bed in the middle was the perfect place to lay her down.
Part of me yearned to stay, but I wished to know the answer to my unspoken question. Then and only then could I do what I yearned to do now and stay. Barely touching her as if she was a glass doll that would break underneath clumsy fingers, I ran my fingers just above the skin of her cheek, close enough to feel her warmth while avoiding contact. My hands were cold – hence the gloves – so I feared to wake her.
Instead, I merely sang to her.
You alone can make my song take flight…
Help me make the music of the night…
And, as the black lace curtain fell in front of me, sparing one last look at Christine sleeping peacefully, I retreated.