A/N: Here's a speedy update. Go me. Hope to see you people's reviews (Erk. Grammatically incorrect.) My friend Carroll-Lynn almost cried when I said Erik had temporarily moved out of my closet to visit Bergerac. However, I did it out of the goodness of my heart. Hope you are enjoying my darling Phantom.
Giry did not weep. Not today, not for the husband who was no longer. Armand, after three years of a difficult, tear-filled marriage had passed on. She was dressed in her finest funeral-wear, what she had dressed in for her meeting with Erik. The veil was cast down over her eyes, so the other mourners could not see her alleged tears. Meg trailed behind her, learning to walk clumsily, dressed in a prim little black dress with black stockings and shoes. She was the only one to cry for the departure of Armand. Giry tried to be supportive, but she wished she could divulge the truth to Meg, but was afraid it would break her heart that her mother had lied to her all these years.
Giry caught a glimpse of Cecile in one of the pews; the girl was silently crying tears of real remorse.
"Idle slut." Muttered Giry, contempt spilling from her lips. And yet she understood why Armand had left her for the girl with the long, blonde hair and a prominent bosom. She herself had continued her soiree with Erik while she was married, trying not to succumb to fits of passion. But now she was a young widow, and could do what she pleased.
She continued to parade behind the coffin, and sat down in the front pew. She allowed Meg to sit in her lap, and she bounced her gently to rid the child of her tears. Meg, however, bawled uncontrollably, fully aware that her mother was trying to stop her from crying.
The ceremony continued on, and Giry even felt one single tear of remorse fall from her face. But near the end she allowed the coffin to be taken to the graveyard without her. She was too distraught; she lied to the priest, and made the Sign of the Cross obediently. Meg struggled against her, telling Giry that she wanted to wish her father farewell
"Please Mama…" Meg wept. "Please…"
"No, darling." Whispered Giry. "We must both have rest."
She kissed the girl's brow silently, bowed to the altar and made her way from the church, solemnly placing a hand on the coffin before she left.
With trepidation she made her way back to her house, and set Meg down in her bed.
"Stay still Meg." She whispered. "And sleep, darling angel."
She began to throw her belongings into a large carpetbag, and packed another small bag with a few of Meg's dolls and her own clothing. She made her bed calmly and changed into some more sensible clothes. She wrapped Meg securely in her coat and took Meg's hand in hers. With one final glance around the house she left, locking the door securely behind her.
"Mama?" asked Meg. "Where are we going?"
"You must begin your training at the Opera Populaire." Said Giry tersely. "As you are now of age."
"The Opera?" asked Meg. "But isn't it…" she trailed off into silence.
"Isn't it what?" asked Giry curiously.
"Haunted?" Meg finished.
"Those are just rumors. Where did you hear them?"
"One of the women passing by talked about a few deaths." Said Meg unfazed.
"Did they now?" asked Giry.
"They were very pretty ladies." Remarked Meg. "I should like to be like one of them when I grow up."
"Maybe you shall be." Said Giry.
"But Papa shall never see me." Meg said mournfully. "I will be a lady for nothing."
"Maybe Papa shall come to you again, and watch you from heaven." Giry said soothingly.
"I hope so." Meg said slowly, and then was silent.
"And I shall resume my position as prima ballerina." Giry whispered.
She walked into the Opera Populaire and straight to Poligny's office. The man was sitting writing out important documents, financial details that mattered a great deal to him. He looked haggard and Giry noticed that he looked more tired and decrepit than of late. Perhaps he had aged a great deal while she was away. The deaths had probably contributed a great deal to it. Erik, she thought He does wreak a lot of havoc on one place. But she smiled and managed to greet Poligny courteously with a curtsey.
"Madame Jules!" he cried in a frenzy of joy and desperation. "I am so glad to see you back!"
"Indeed it is a pleasure." Giry replied eloquently. "I have come to return to the post of prima ballerina."
"Actually, that position has been filled by a very nice girl." Said Poligny, stressing the word 'girl'. "She dances like a lark!"
"Really?" Giry raised an eyebrow in skepticism.
"However," Poligny finished quickly, sensing Giry's temperament, "I would be glad if you filled the post."
"It is of no concern to me." She said dismissively. "I shall fill any post you wish."
"We are looking, actually, for a ballet mistress. As you are quite experienced, it would be fitting for you to fill the post."
"That would be quite suitable for me." Agreed Giry. "What is the monthly pay?"
"Same as always." Said Poligny. "As it was when you were prima."
"Many thanks." Said Giry. She began to walk out of the office, when Poligny stopped her suddenly.
"Oh, Madame Jules, why have you returned?"
"My husband is dead, and I must raise my child in the style that I see best. She shall be a ballerina."
"My condolences." Said Poligny, "What is the name and age of your child?"
"Marguerite Erika Giry. She is three years of age."
"Good, good." Said Poligny. "You may be established in the same dormitories you filled in previous years."
"Thank you." Said Giry.
She made her way with Meg into the dormitories that she was so familiar with. The corps du ballet looked at her askance, but then they realized who she was.
"Giry!" squealed one of the girls, who was now about fourteen. She ran up to hug her, and Giry received the force, which knocked against her ribcage.
"Sorry," she said, stuttering. "I don't recall…"
"Nicolette." Said the girl. "Remember, I was the one who asked about the dancing."
"Ah, yes." Said Giry.
The others grumbled silently, as Giry looked them over. There were a few old faces, haggard and careworn, some still retaining their beauty. A few of them were new, and scared. She gave them all a reassuring nod.
"Whoever is prima ballerina step forward." She commanded in a rich voice.
The young Nicolette backed up and whispered.
"Giry, I am prima ballerina now." She said slowly.
"Then I shall act as your ballet mistress to all of you. However, I will delay rehearsals until tomorrow at noonday. We shall work each day for three hours."
She allowed the ballet rats to disperse, but Nicolette still hung around.
"Giry, who did you marry?" she asked.
"It is not your place to ask such questions." She said severely.
"I apologize." Said Nicolette weakly, unused to such force from Giry.
She retreated to her own bed, and looked over huffily at Giry.
"Old bat." She muttered under her breath.
Giry went from the ballet rats' dormitories and into her private room. There she laid Meg on the bed, helping her to change into a downy, white nightgown.
"Goodnight Mama." Said Meg calmly.
"Goodnight, Meg." Said Giry with a kiss on the girl's forehead.
"Why are you not coming to bed?" asked Meg in a voice almost reminiscent of Armand's.
"I have a bit of business to attend to." Explained Giry quietly. "But I will be back soon."
"Alright." The little girl said, with confidence.
Giry tiptoed out of the room and closed the door securely behind her. She heard Meg's muted breathing behind her, and she relaxed. The child would not stir until daybreak. With one look around, she stealthily crept from the dormitories and made her way down to the catacombs like she had ages ago.
She stepped into the gondola lightly and floated gently to the shores of Erik's lair. He was not to be seen, and she wandered around the small cavern, skulking quietly. Then he emerged from his bedroom, having played with the silk sheets innumerable times. He was dressed in his usual garb, a burgundy, embroidered vest hiding beneath his coat and cape. He hid his face with his white mask, and held a rose deftly in his left hand.
"Antoinette." He said. "Why are you here?"
"Armand has passed away." Said Giry. "I can be with you. Forever."
For a minute she stood staring, then rushed forward into Erik's arms and hugged him tightly. Tears began to stream from her eyes.
"I…never…" she sobbed. "Thought…that I…would ever be with you…again. I love you."
Her arms held him tighter, and he stroked her hair.
"My darling," he said sweetly, his voice crooning melodiously. "I always hoped we would be together again. Like we were before. I adore you."
Tears leaked from his own eyes and he turned ashamedly away to wipe them off his face. Then he handed the rose to Giry, and kissed her timidly.
"I have missed you." He said slowly. "You are like music. I am devoid of life without you."
"Erik," she began. "Ever since I ran away, I have wanted to be with you."
"You are with me forever." Erik promised.
They hugged again, and soon Giry kissed Erik's mouth with joy. He returned it with bliss, and the two kissed until they were in the bedroom. Erik continued to kiss Giry, and the pair fell on the bed. She broke off, and through her tears began to laugh.
"Erik," she whispered. "I love you."
"I adore you." He said huskily.
And for the next few hours they made love to each other, both burning with passion they had not felt for years.
A/N: Will Meg ever find out the truth about her father? Will Erik and Giry make their final vows? Will Christine ever come into the picture? You'll have to wait and see…