Author's notes: Sorry for the long wait, I didn't have much inspiration and I had a lot of work to do. School starts soon, and I'll have a lot of things to do then, so I don't know how often I'll be able to update.
DarkMoonLightBright– I will, don't worry. Here you go!
Enrinye– (shrugs) here is the next chapter… tell me what you think!
EriksIngenue– I didn't quite get that… you want me to write a book? Heh, I'll think about it. It's nice to see the story has such an effect on you.
lady kathrin – thanks!
squishmich – thanks, I like the Mirror scene too, but my favorite is definitely MotN.
X X X
Chapter 12: La Ball Masque et La Mort RougeX X X
Shimmering lights, flashing colors, a whirlpool of laughter. There is no person in sight that could even remotely be classified as clad in everyday clothes. The song of the night choruses, gowns of all sorts fill the main hall of the Opera Populaire. Tonight, all that used to be normal is gone. Tonight, we trade the faces we wear in the grayish world of our lives for masks that are sometimes more believable than those we must wear forever. Tonight, you are not who you are during the day.
Tonight, you are a mask… hiding your face, so the world will never find you.
La Ball Masque was probably the best way to begin a new season in the Opera house. Truly, after the horrors the staff and the management had experienced months previously, there could be nothing more relaxing than a masquerade, a cheery night celebrating… everything. All the crème de la crème of Paris was invited, even the staff had the right to party – if only in the backstage of the theater.
Christine and I didn't arrive late, but we preferred to watch the spectacle in front of us, around us, before joining in the dance. The main hall of the Opera Populaire had been decorated for the occasion, every bit of the place was shining with cleanness. Everyone who meant something in the theater business was there – surprisingly, even La Carlotta had decided to arrive, forgetting (if only for a moment) the croaking incident during Il Muto, which had been the talk of the town for a long time.
We were probably the least masqueraded pair of all of the crowd. I was in a blue military uniform, without a mask this time, and Christine wore a wonderful dress of pale pink, with a matching rose in her hair and one tied to her waist. She had a mask, but currently, it wasn't attached to her face, but held in her hand.
To me, the night was also a celebration of our engagement. After a while of gathering courage to ask, I did so, and I got a positive answer after only a brief hesitation. Nevertheless, for some strange reasons, Christine insisted that we keep the engagement a secret and refused to wear the ring I gave her on her hand. Rather, she attached it to a golden chain, which she wore around her neck. The ring seemed more like a locket or a medallion now.
After a while, I asked her to dance – the melody of the song had just changed into a waltz. She agreed, smiling. The secret engagement seemed to be much to her liking, but she wouldn't answer me when I asked her why we must conceal the truth like this. Whenever I mentioned it within the walls of the Opera, she seemed to grow jumpy.
"Christine, you're free." I insisted, "What are you afraid of?"
Biting her lip slightly and casting the surroundings a somewhat worried glance, she shook her head. "You will understand in time, Raoul. Please, let's not fight and wait… for now."
Though not thoroughly convinced that she was telling me the whole truth, I took her hand and guided her across the dancefloor, where we joined the crowd and waltzed our way past them, until finally, I managed to kiss her unexpectedly. She almost jumped again, then gave a shaky smile and we continued dancing.
It was as if she thought even the walls had ears.
X X X
It was a mistake coming here tonight, I realized that too late. Whenever I glance around and move my gaze away from Raoul, my heart stops for a second when my eyes deceive me and I think I see him. I have not forgotten, far from it. The thought only makes me grasp Raoul´s hand tighter. He is the only safe ground in the blackness in which I can drown, if I don't watch my step.
The impulsiveness with which I accepted his marriage proposal doesn't fill me with regret, however. Whatever has happened or will happen, I have always loved and will always love Raoul. What I fear is the identification of that love, seeing if it's the love a wife holds for her husband… or something far more platonic. But madness would surely follow if I would forsake the only thing I am sure of in my life – and that is that I care for him.
In the long months outside the Opera Populaire, I had not been unhappy – far from it. my every need or desire was tended to, I lived like a true queen… and yet, something was missing. I later realized that it was music, thus I began singing to myself at times, be it lullabies, opera arias, or his songs… strangely, though, I found that I memorized each word he had said to me from the moment I entered his underground realm.
Fear was what I felt most of the time ever since then. Ever since my curiosity got the better of me. strangely, I was more scared of his terrible temper than of his face. It altered everything and yet, somehow, I found myself not caring. Until the moment of that horrible night when he revealed just how far he could go to achieve his own ends.
Raoul became my safe haven, my rock, someone I could always count on. I knew that if I would leave with him, my Angel would soon find out. But I couldn't do anything else. I needed the choice taken out of my hands, I couldn't fight the determination and loving promises Raoul drowned me in. Out of reach of the hypnotizing voice, I submitted and left.
Now, back in the theater, I found myself wondering what had happened in the days of my absence. From what I heard, there had been no sighting of the Opera Ghost for months. I didn't know whether to be relieved or frightened. Again, I couldn't make that choice. Instead, I tried to focus all my energy on the dancing, on the wonderful ballroom and the amusing masks around me.
We stopped dancing, observing the performers for a moment, laughing joyfully. My mind had almost accepted the fact that tonight would be something I would count as a happy, cheerful memory. There were lights everywhere… and then, all went dark. For a moment, none of us could see anything, our eyes not accustomed to the darkness. Then, however, everyone seemed to notice that one spot of the room was still lit.
My blood seemed to freeze. I suppose I knew before I had any confirmation. From head to toe clad in the colors of blood, with ornamental golden embroidery, a tall, raven-haired man appeared on the top of the stairs. What surprised many was that he was armed, seeing the rapier at his side. Like everyone else, he was masked, but it seemed more like someone had cut off the flesh and skin off his face, leaving a skull. Gleaming golden eyes observed the ballroom with contempt, standing out like stars in the dark of the night, because what else we could see of his skin was painted black. As he descended down the stairs, the trail red fabric gently flowed behind him, like fresh blood.
"Why so silent, good Messieurs?" the Red Death asked softly, almost amused. Resonating throughout the whole hall was a voice that even angels would envy.
It was him.
X X X
It seemed that not only was my sudden arrival a surprise to all, but I then realized that I have come without a mask. Everyone was masquerading… but I had come as myself. Not that any of the fools would realize it. My appearance seemed to have frightened and stunned them at the same time. I hadn't been expecting any other response, but that didn't stop me from glancing around with grim satisfaction.
They really had no imagination, these petty Parisian snobs. Black and white and gold – the only three colors they seemed to know. There were only hints of shades on their costumes, but otherwise, they were utterly boring. All the better for me, perhaps, though my attire would have gotten attention even in a crowd of red-clad people.
Spotting my victims in the crowd was more than easy. My visit here had a grander purpose than just putting them in their place and showing them that they should be careful with their assumptions – a long-term absence didn't mean anything. Just because you don't see something doesn't mean it's not there. Not that these idiots knew anything about philosophy.
"Did you think that I had left you for good?" I asked idly, reading the answer from their expressions. Even a note from me would have shocked them thoroughly. A personal visit was more than scare them out of their heads.
"Have you missed me, good Messieurs?" I didn't wait for an answer – it was the same as before, and I had no time to amuse myself with their good imitations of freshly caught fish. "I have written you an opera!"
For all these months, I had been composing. True, Don Juan had been nearly finished, but it was only then that I grasped the true nature of what I was writing of, thus I had to rewrite several crucial parts, change some events, and adapt a more realistic view of things. Now, finally, after sleepless weeks and countless of rage fits, I managed to finish it. or, at least, the music was now what I had hoped it would be.
"Here I bring the finished score – Don Juan Triumphant!" Slamming the score at the ground, I drew my weapon to emphasize my points. I had to force those idiots to cooperate. "Fondest greetings to you all. A few instructions just before rehearsals start. Carlotta must be taught to act." The diva gave off the best fish imitation of the night, even more so when I messed up her goofy hat. "Not her normal trick of strutting round the stage." Piangi moved towards me angrily, but stopped short when I poked him with the tip of the rapier – he obviously didn't fancy being a roast pig yet. "Our Don Juan must lose some weight – it's not healthy for a man of Piangi´s age. And my managers must learn that their place is in an office, not the arts." Like Piangi, both of them drew back at the sight of a weapon at the ready.
At last, I holstered my rapier. She deserved to be frightened tonight, yes, to be pained and unhappy, as I have been… but when I spotted her in the crowd, I couldn't bring myself to threaten her.
"As for our star… Miss Christine Daaé." I began, for the first time, not mockingly.
X X X
My feet were frozen to the ground. Raoul had left me. for what reason, I didn't know or care. My heart was pounding somewhere in my throat, I couldn't speak. I was terrified of what would happen. I knew he would notice me sooner or later, and I would be punished for deserting him, without a word of goodbye, without an apology for unmasking him and being so frightened of him, when he had tried so hard to make me see what others could not.
"No doubt she'll do her best." He continued, but looked away from me, as if addressing the whole crowd. There was something strange about his voice, however. "It's true, her voice is good. She knows, though, should she wish to excel, she has much still to learn." Again, his eyes found me, and I was finally able to identify the emotion I sensed from him as possessiveness. "If pride would let her return to me – her teacher…" But he seemed to be losing the will to punish me, when he looked at me again. "Her teacher…"
the whole crowd must have been looking at us, but it seemed as if there was truly no one there. Several steps above me, he seemed to be drawing shallow breaths, but suddenly couldn't find any air. What possessed me to move forward, I don't know, but I felt my lips form a bewildered but joyful, hesitant but yearning, smile. The closer I moved towards him, the less he seemed to be able to speak, let alone breathe.
I stopped only a step away from him, now unafraid.
X X X
Time had stopped, the world ceased to exist. Still I was unable to comprehend that Christine was approaching me on her own accord, without fear or hate or disgust, or anything else I was used to seeing on the faces of those who knew too well what lied beneath the mask I wore for completely different reasons than the rest of the people here. For them, it was a joke, fun. For me, it was an escape, a necessity.
Yet Christine drew closer, as if nothing had happened, as if it was merely another lesson with her Angel. And for a divine moment, I believed it as well. A thousand things I wished to then, though I knew I would have to take my leave very soon, and none of these involved leaving her there with the boy.
A flicker of gold caught my eye. Something was around her neck, I noticed, looking down from her face for a second. Following the chain almost to the fabric of her dress, I saw a sparkling diamond ring resting on her chest proudly, a mark of an engagement, without a doubt. Crushing reality returned without warning, as did my fury. How dare she! Without a second thought, I tore the chain from her neck. She would not marry that boy… I would yet have my say in this matter.
"Your chains are still mine – you belong to me!" I hissed at her, stormed away, and, in a flash of light and fire that must have alarmed the crowd greatly, I disappeared from their sight.
X X X
I only saw the end of the terrible scene, but I knew I must act. It took me longer than I anticipated to get my rapier. I returned just in time to see flames surround the man who was now alarmingly close to Christine. Knowing that he couldn't have disappeared without a trace just like that, I jumped into the pit straight in the middle of the floor. It closed behind me swiftly.
The room I landed in was dark, but only until I noticed that all the walls are covered with mirrors. The purpose of this contraption remained hidden to me until my adversary glared at me from one of the mirrors. It was just a reflection, I knew, but desperation began rushing through my mind when he disappeared, then reappeared, and once more, multiplied six times in the mirrors.
I didn't know where to strike first, what to do, and my mind was beginning to get alarmed. What was this room? What was its purpose? I abandoned a hope of finding him in his own realm. But then, just as I was about to try a different way of searching, a hand fell on my shoulder. I turned sharply, but then relaxed, even though she pulled me out of the room by the hand quickly.
Madame Giry had come to save me.