One heart's darkness
Disclaimer: Don't own POTO. If I did, Christine would have never ever chosen Raoul in the first place!
OH MY GOSH! OVER 100 REVIEWS! (gasps, faints)
Erik: Oh dear! (gives authoress oxygen) This really was a little much for her, she is... delicate.
Me: (whimpers) r...reviews... Erik...
Erik: Yes yes, it will be alright. (sighs) So I guess it's up to me.
THANKS to her reviewers, keep on reviewing, she might faint again, but hey! that's acceptable.
Hell has frozen over, it's a month of blue moons and pigs are flying: She updated!
Me: (stutters) S... sorry... F...fluffy chappie...
Chapter Nine
Madeleine shivered in the cold night air. Her cloak was not warm enough for a cold winter night out on the streets, but she had nothing warmer, as she rarely left the opera.
She clutched her bundle closer and peered out from under her hood. There were a few pedestrians in the street and she didn't want to have to go past them, so she waited on the corner.
Her thoughts drifted back to her father. She wondered if he had found her note yet.
The thought brought new tears to her eyes. Leaving had been an impulsive decision, but she still believed that she was in her father's way. Now he would be able to be with Christine and he didn't have to leave his daughter, she had done it for him.
The men were off the street now and she continued on her path, hoping against hope that the solution she was looking for would lie at its end.
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Erik was still staring horror-struck at the note in his hand when he heard Nadir's voice behind him. Shaking himself out of his reverie, he turned around and said, "Nadir, would you be so kind as to escort Mademoiselle de Chagny back upstairs?" and to Julie he continued, "I am afraid Madeleine is not here at… at the moment. You can see her some other time."
Nadir cast him a worried look, but didn't comment as he took Julie's hand with a bow and a short "Mademoiselle" to lead her back. She cast confused looks at Erik but refrained from asking questions at the warning glance from Nadir. So she only bid the tall man goodbye before she followed the Persian.
They did not talk much on their way back to the upper levels to the opera, but when they had reached the dressing room again, Julie couldn't help it and asked,
"I've seen Madeleine's face and she told me that her father's is similar… is it really that bad?"
Nadir regarded her coldly. "You are a lot like your mother, Mlle de Chagny, but fine. Erik looks like any other man. Or like any other man would after having been dead for a couple of months. I hope this satisfies your curiosity!"
He turned his back on the pale Julie to go back through the mirror, but then added one last thing. "You should consider yourself lucky that you haven't seen him unmasked. Those who do are either his friends or his enemies, and you don't want to belong to the latter. As for friendship with Erik… I doubt that you possess the strength of character."
The insult made Julie straighten up. "I understand that you wish to protect your friends," she said sternly, "so I will let your rudeness slide again. However, you are doing exactly what you accused me of doing. You judge me without even knowing me!"
Nadir gave her a reluctant smile and admitted, "Touché! Au revoir, Mademoiselle Julie!"
Then he disappeared through the mirror for good.
When he returned he found Erik kneeling on the ground in Madeleine's room, still clutching the note.
"The foolish girl…," he whispered, "I have underestimated how much she is like me."
"What happened?" Nadir asked, completely nonplussed.
Erik handed him the note. Nadir read it through and gasped.
"She ran away? How could she do that? What is this nonsense of not wanting to stand between you and Christine? Where could she have gone?"
"Nadir, if I knew anymore, don't you think I wouldn't just be sitting here?" the irritable Opera Ghost snapped. He got up and picked up the fedora which he had cast to the side earlier.
"What will you do?" Nadir asked.
Erik shrugged. "I will give her one day's time, then I will go to find her, even if I have to turn every stone in Paris. And once I have found her, we will have a serious talk about controlling that obstinate temper of hers."
"The one she got from you, you mean?"
"Be quiet, Nadir!"
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Meg Giry had arrived at home about an hour ago, after the performance. The ballet corps had been horrible and she planned to work the girls twice as hard the next day, but for now, she would let it rest. It had been an exhausting day and she wanted nothing more then to get into bed after a last cup of hot chocolate.
It didn't take her long to wash up and change into a warm cotton nightgown and a woollen robe. As she prepared the hot beverage, she was looking around the little flat and thought, once more, longingly of her mother.
The flat she now lived in was smaller than the one she had been inhabiting with her mother and while that one had always been clean and tidy, hers was in a constant state of mess.
A loud pounding on the door shook her out of her thoughts.
She went to the front door and opened it a fraction, then wrenched it open all the way.
Madeleine entered, casting a thankful nod her way and twisted her bony hands, which looked blue and frozen.
"Good God, Mademoiselle Madeleine, what in the world are you doing here, at this time of night?" Meg asked. She had always been uneasy around Erik, the Opera Ghost, whose confidante she now was after her mother's death, but she'd always had a weak spot for his daughter.
"I need your help, Mademoiselle Giry," Madeleine began quietly and then proceeded to tell Meg the whole story, including her suspicions about Erik and Christine wanting her out of the way. To her surprise, Meg disagreed completely and became almost angry.
"I don't believe Monsieur Erik would ever want you out of the way," she argued, "and I personally think that it was quite foolish to run away. Your father must be so worried about you, child!"
Madeleine stood up so quickly that her skirts billowed around her.
"DON'T call me child, Mademoiselle!" she thundered and the beautiful and yet horrible strength in her voice made Meg take a few steps back without even realising it. Then the girl slumped back onto her chair.
"Please, just let me stay here overnight. Maybe tomorrow I will go back and… things will be better. But not tonight, please… Meg!"
The ballet mistress smiled and nodded. "Fine. You can stay here, but really only tonight! I can only imagine what your pa… your father must be thinking. Hot chocolate?"
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Nadir knocked on the door of the Chagny mansion with a distinct feeling of dread. Erik's warning about "not meddling" was still ringing in his ears, but it was too late now, anyway.
A tired looking maid opened the door and asked in a rather snappish tone what in the world he wanted so late at night.
Nadir, after politely pointing out that it was only shortly after midnight, gave his name and asked to see the Vicomtess, urgently.
His was led into the salon and after a few minutes, Christine came running into the room, her hair an open cloud of freshly brushed curls behind her and the simple housedress still unbuttoned at the sleeves.
"What is wrong, Nadir? Is Erik alright? And… my daughter?"
Nadir took of his hat.
"I'm afraid they are both not really 'alright'. Madeleine has run away and Erik is, of course, very distraught. It probably reminds him too much of his own past." His voice became urgent. "He needs you right now, Madame. Go to him. If you love him…"
Christine nodded, dazedly, and hurried out of the room again to get dressed.
Nadir waited patiently, twisting his hat in his hands.
After five minutes, he started pacing and was startled rather badly when he saw someone standing in the open door.
It was Raoul, in pyjamas and dressing gown. He looked more then just tired, the bags under his eyes and his drooping posture showed how hard the situation was for him.
In fact, the man seemed to have aged ten years in the past weeks.
Nadir mumbled a greeting and Raoul nodded in response.
"You are taking her back to him, aren't you?" he asked, his voice tired and strained.
Nadir fidgeted a little more. "I have to. He needs her, there are… problems. With Madeleine."
The Vicomte sighed and nodded. "Yes, I suppose then she must go. Tell Erik what I should have told him years ago: The best man won!"
With that, he turned away from the Persian and went back upstairs, his feet dragging behind him.
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When Christine arrived at the house beneath the opera, she found Erik in his study, pacing nervously and twisting a folded sheet of paper in his long fingers.
She needed no explanation as to what that paper was, she just rushed over to him and threw her arms around his neck.
He held her close, like a drowning man would clutch a rope that was his lifeline.
"She will be back…," Christine whispered, "She can't be without you! Who could, who ever had the fortune of being loved by you?"
Erik's sobs shook his shoulders, and together they sat through the night, worrying for their child and taking comfort in each other's presence.
A/N: (hugs her Erik plushie) Ok, I'm feeling better now. As always, tell me your thoughts, I promise I won't take so long to update ever again! On my Erik plushie! Oh, before I forget. (hands more Phantom cookies to reviewers) After all, Erik made these for you just yesterday. It's his special recipe, I don't know what's in there, but don't worry, it's nothing... addictive. )
P.F.A.