My apologies, but this chapter will end up being three parts long. Don't hurt me please! There was just too much material to stuff it into only two sections. But I promise, the wait WILL be worth it!

…And though I don't know where you are, (And though I don't know who you are)
I know you must be there, (I know you're beautiful)
So for now I lay me down to sleep and dream
-Nouveaux

Chapter Thirty Six: The Silent Symphony, P.2

Leah

Paris laid quietly beneath us as the sun began to rise.

I paid the outside world little mind, for I was enthralled in a leather bound version of Bertrand's 'Description Du Pays Occupe Par L'Armee Francaise en Afrique'. The scenes of foreign people and places held me captive, for I was rather fond of stories of the world beyond France's borders. High above the morning mists, I escaped the cramped confines of my injured body, leaving it behind on the faded brown coverlet.

My reverie was halted abruptly by Beth's quiet musings.

"Aren't the stars beautiful today?" She whispered to me. It was as though she feared to break the calm of the quietness up here. In a sense, the roof was much like holy ground, separate from all the worries and pain of the floors under us.

"Mmf." I grunted back, a tad disgruntled at being interrupted. I glanced briefly at the sky above us where the bright stars were barely visible due to the rising sun.

"I could stay up here and watch them until the end of time. They are like a song without music." She smiled faintly, lost in her own thoughts of wonder.

"If you think about it," She turned to me, "It's truly amazing. Imagine! God took the time to hang each one just so, like the ornaments on a Yule tree. And all of that merely to give us something lovely to gaze at in the night…"

"…I wonder where they hide in the day?" She pondered.

I laughed under my breath. Beth's naivety was a breath of fresh air to me. "They don't hide anywhere, Beth. The stars are always shining. We simply cannot see them in the day because the sun is brighter than they are. It's only when the darkness is present that we can see them."

"Because of the contrast, no?" She wondered.

"Oui. The heavens are quite fascinating, I suppose. I hadn't given them a great deal of though before today."

A few moments of silence passed between us with an easy sense of mutual comfort as we considered the Lord's handiwork. The only distraction from our precious calm was the odd sensation of being watched, though I had learned to ignore such imaginary fears quite some time ago. Still, the impression of being surveyed lingered on in an annoying manner.

"So tell me Leah, what have you been reading today?" Asked Beth. "You seemed to be rather absorbed in it earlier."

I handed her the enjoyable little book. She examined the title and paged through it, skimming the contents before snickering.

"I declare! You have some of the strangest tastes in books. The language is so difficult!"

Mildly irritated by her friendly mockery, I simply shrugged my shoulders and leaned backwards to rest on the blanket with my hands under my head.

"I suppose I am a bit odd." I admitted. "But my idiosyncrasies can all be blamed on my Abuelo. When I was only an infant, he began to read to me. History, mythology, philosophy … anything that he himself found interesting."

"He sounds like quite the character." Beth smiled warmly at my fond memories.

"Oh yes." I giggled. "Quite the character indeed. He was a bit odd, but I never really minded. I loved being near him. At night sometimes, when my mother would no longer come to my bedchamber, I would creep down to his study and we would read together. Nana was constantly on the lookout for me after curfew, so the pleasure of those nights might have had a bit to do with the avoiding capture. But I think it had more to do with him."

The rooftop faded from my mind, as I drifted back to a warm night that seemed so far away from my present situation.

"It would be dark when I finally found my way downstairs. He would scoop me up and set me in his lap while he read the paper and explained politics to me. He seemed to know everything, and I was in awe of him. I didn't always understand what he was talking about, but his voice was calming and deep. I remember the way his beard would brush up against my face as his jaw moved. The thing I remember most though, was his smell." A small grin settled on my lips as I fingered the precious memory of his fatherly touch. It had been so long since anyone had touched me with that special kind of affection. "He smelled of beeswax and leather polish and cinnamon candies. He loved cinnamon candy. Cinnamon still reminds me of the faraway places that he used to tell me about. I've often wished that I could run away to them."

I slowly floated back to reality, remembering that Beth was listening to my ramblings.

"Would you come with me, Beth? To the lands beyond?" I asked, in a silly mood.

"Mmm. Perhaps." She returned my question with mock gravity, but her grin slowly faded as she gave the flippant idea a bit of serious thought. "I'm not sure I would want to leave Paris, though."

Her reply quickly sobered my gaiety. "You wouldn't want to see the world? Go out and explore the unknown?"

"The idea sounds exciting, I must admit, but I don't really want to go anywhere. Everything I need is right here. Everything I love in life is in Paris. I wouldn't want to leave that behind."

"I used to think the same thing."

Immediately, I regretted having spoken. How could either of us respond to that remark? My ugly bitterness had severed the satisfied atmosphere that had flowed around us only moments before. The pain of my emptiness left us in several minutes of silence.

Awkward silence.

After what seemed an eternity, I broke the near tangible bonds of the uncomfortable hush.

"So … how are the routines for 'Carmen' coming along, Beth?" She had been aiding her mother in the fabrication of the choreography.

She exhaled gratefully, glad to find a new topic. "They've shaped up nicely. A few of the rows are still having trouble, but any problems should be ironed out by the end of the week."

How I longed to dance again! To be the last ballerina in the furthest row would have been paradise. The desire throbbed though my entire being with painful force, but I remained mute. I would not burden Beth with my pain.

Beth continued to gibber, unaware of my inner conflict. "The only real problem lately has been Donatella. It seems she can do no wrong!" Beth bit off the sentence with sharp, envious sarcasm. As usual, she refused to address Sorelli by her surname. It irked the budding prima donna to no end, but little could sway her from complete joy during this opera. She and Ingvar had been featured again, and her already bulbous head had swelled to frightening proportions.

But despite her haughty demeanor, I could not bring myself to think of her in the terrible light that I once had. An encounter at St. Elizabeth's Hospital had altered my perceptions of Sorelli, though not enough to change the name by which I called her. Only Beth dared to tempt Donatella's irritating shrieking by calling her by her first name.

Still, the discovery of that rainy night had demolished my thought of her as a one sided creature. It had been she that I encountered outside of Madame Oriela's chambers. Both of us had been a bit shocked to see the other, and Sorelli had been uncharacteristically civil towards me as we chatted about her grandmother. I had learned that the Mme. was, in fact, Sorelli's guardian and grandmamman. But when I had inquired after her parents, she had turned cold and shortly replied that they were dead. She left soon after, warning me not to disturb the Mme., for she was asleep.

"Don't be so hard on her, Beth. She has troubles of her own."

"What are you talking about?" A confused Beth queried. "Are we thinking of the same pompous, pampered brat?"

Beth's tone was unusually acidic, hateful even. In my heart, I knew it must be her disappointment at not attaining the primary dance role that was speaking, and I told her as much.

"I'm sure that you are right." She replied wearily. "I am sorry dear. I shouldn't allow my envy to get the better of me."

She paused before asking after my own occupations. "How does the notation go?"

Her mother had procured several errand girl posts for me at the Garnier after my accident, the most time consuming of which was assisting Cassius Blune.

Blune was Reyer's aid, and was currently consumed with rewriting the plain speech of Carmen's original script into musical recitative. It was my job to record the notes that he was composing as he played them on the piano. I was finally grateful for my piano instructor's insistence that I should learn to recognize notes and rhythms.

"As well as can be expected. Honestly Beth, I would trade M Blune for a thousand of 'La Sorelli' any day of the week. He is the most conceited man I have ever had the misfortune to meet!"

"Come now. He can't be that bad."

"No? I disagree. The only conversation that we have had in two weeks of work has been about his latest female conquest and what an irresistible creature he is. No, it was not even a conversation, for I don't think that I uttered more than three words in the entire two hours that he continued to prattle on."

Though I had to admit that the man was exceptionally attractive, with dull blue eyes and copper-blond hair, he was the furthest thing from a perspective suitor that I could imagine. I found him irritating and unappealing, but not for lack of his best efforts to persuade me otherwise.

I was very glad that Philippe had the right to my hand, as it gave me a wonderful excuse to refuse his unwanted attention. Though the Comte was not really my suitor, the mere mention of our relationship had chilled any of M Blune's plans of a new 'triumph'.

Though I was deeply grateful to have a source of income, every part of me cried out against the injustice of my new role. All my short life, I had wanted nothing but dance. And now I was forever condemned to watch from the wings as others preformed.

"I suppose I wouldn't be so very open to any new career." I admitted. "Nothing can compare to dancing."

As soon as the words left my lips, I regretted them. This would surely lead to the same unnerving silence as before!

But Beth surprised me with her gentle voice. "You miss it, don't you?"

"More than I can say!" The pent up grief rushed off my tongue, cascading like water from a broken dam. "I would give anything to dance again."

"Anything."

"Oh Leah. I know it hurts, but perhaps this is a new opportunity for you."

"A new opportunity? You don't understand! Dancing was my life, Beth! It was the only time that I ever felt alive. It was the only thing that ever meant anything to me. I gave up my family, my life, to dance, and now it's gone!"

Beth scooted close to my side and put her arm around me. Though tears were a tempting idea, I fiercely quelled the thought. I summoned the cold, distant strength that had saved me so often before, infusing my spine with a firm resolve.

"I am sorry. I shouldn't have raised my voice. This wasn't your fault, Beth. It was mine." I muttered, wallowing in self pity.

"Don't be daft! How on earth can you think to take the blame for this?"

"If I hadn't been up in the rafters …" My stomach clenched violently with culpability. "If I hadn't been there, everything would be fine! I would be in rehearsal right now, ready to fall into my old bed! And Tina..."

"This is not your fault!" Beth grabbed my shoulders roughly, forcing me to look her in the eye. "You could not have known. No one could!"

"Why did God do this to us? We were all so happy!"

Beth only sighed and shook her head. Wisps of her soft hair escaped her dancer's bun to float in the tender breeze, glimmering in the light of the rising sun.

"God didn't 'do' anything. You know that. We live in a fallen world, Leah, and sometimes terrible things happen that no one can explain. Earthquakes, storms, sickness … they are just a part of life. But God can use them to change us. Change isn't always so bad."

I snorted softly, silently laughing at the foolish notion. Change was pain and loss and hurt.

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"Yes! Yes Leah, I have to believe it."

At my continued disbelief, she went on. "Leah, do you remember what you told me about the stars?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Think of it this way. You can only see the stars when it is night, no? The beauty of their light is defined by the darkness around them. It is the same with life. Only when you find the deepest darkness can you understand the true extent of the light. The pain of the difficult times make the good times that much sweeter. "

"It is only in the emptiness of pain that we can hear the silent symphony of joy."

Author's notes: I revised a bit of last chapter, and you may want to check it out because I added a hint about another part of Eric's past.

Beth may come across as a bit ignorant in this chapter, and rightly so. That is not to say that she is stupid. Not by any means! But I felt it important to show that Leah is very unique in her intelligence and in the level of her education. Most young women of the time had little, if any, formal schooling. This is the case with Beth.

ALC: Sure, send it along! I shall do my best.

Kipper: I have not had kippers either. My fascination stems from a bored afternoon when some friends and I were pondering strange verbs, like frolic and caper. I then wondered about capering with a kipper and a caper. I found the whole thing absolutely hilarious! Gollum? Yeah, the vibes are strong with this one. (Star Wars reference. I am more looney than usual today.) No, I have never heard of the curse. And yes, I know that it is spelled with a 'k', but the change was intentional, for two reasons. One of them will be revealed at the end of the story, and one was explained in a previous chapter's notes.

Fish: Sunburned? Poor fish! I bequeath unto thee a large bottle of aloe lotion! I am glad you liked it!

Pants: yes, just slightly off his rocker, no? That's your brother's name? Indeed, very weird, but I assure you that Eric is nearly thirty years old and the little hair that he has is dark. (She proceeds to fondle his adorably bald head. Eric proceeds to run for his life.)

Avid: Nope, Sorelli. But two certain someones may be seeing more of each other in the near future… As for lifefest, much fun, but I got rather sick. Very bad headache from not wearing earplugs and standing really close to the front at the Newsboys concert! Whee-hee! And they sang THE BREAKFAST SONG! Big squee!

JPT: the degree of his literalism (hey, that's actually a word!) is a bit skewed by the fact that he's raving bonkers. What can you do? As for the stains of his past, right now he is blocking them out as much as he can. An uncharacteristically normal reaction to such a disturbing event, no? And yes, they really didn't have anything else to do with the children. It wasn't always the case, but it did happen quite often.