One heart's darkness

Disclaimer: Me not owns them. Nu-uh.

Erik: Now be sure to apologize...

Me: Oh, the delay was SO your fault! You didn't like anything I wrote!

Erik: Because it was crap, dearest!

Me: grumbles I hate it when you're right!

THANKS to those who still have patience with me and my story, it's flowing more smoothly again, updates should come faster now. And a special thank you to those who wished me a happy birthday last Saturday. I'm eighteen now, so there's nothing in Germany I can't do. :) hehe...

Chapter Eleven

Weeks had passed, then months. The divorce between Christine and Raoul had been finalized, and the former Vicomtess had moved in with the ballet mistress Meg Giry.

Parisian High Society was in an uproar. Everyone was speculating about who had betrayed whom and what third parties might have been involved… Of course, nobody thought of the incident eighteen years ago or of the Opera Ghost still hungering for Christine's love.

And why would they think of him? For the past weeks, she had not set foot into the opera and all seemed lost, until, one fine day that announced the coming of spring, her two daughters met.

Madeleine had received Julie's letter asking her for that meeting and agreed readily.

Rehearsals were in progress, but near their end, so they could speak in one of the prop store rooms without having to fear detection.

Madeleine had only been waiting for a few minutes when the door opened and Julie slipped inside.

Without saying a word, the sisters embraced.

"I'm glad to see you are well again," Madeleine said, her eyes brushing over the new scar on Julie's otherwise flawless forehead.

"It was not as bad as it looked at first," the younger one answered with a shrug. A smile passed over her features. "I'm so glad to see you again! I was afraid my parents would never let me out of the house again." Her smile faded again. "At least, my father. Mama has left, as you probably know. I don't see her every day, but she will have dinner with us tomorrow."

Madeleine put a comforting hand on Julie's shoulder. "You will be fine! At least you still see her, that's more than I can say. But I must say, I am surprised that the Vicomte would let you come here by yourself!"

Now it was Julie's turn to look surprised.

"I did not come by myself, he came with me. As a matter of fact, he is downstairs by the lake as we speak, to talk to Monsieur Erik!"

If Madeleine's eyes had gone any wider, they would have fallen from their sockets.

"Raoul… talking to my papa? And you think that will end well, without them killing each other?"

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Erik was indeed not very happy about this meeting the Vicomte had asked him to in a letter, but he had decided to be patient.

Now, as he stood on the shore of the lake, cracking his knuckles, he almost regretted the decision.

Finally, Raoul appeared.

"Excuse my delay," he said as introduction. "The managers caught me on the stairs, some important decision bothered them…"

He met Erik's cold stare and fell silent.

"What do you want from me, Vicomte?" the Phantom asked, his tone distinctively bored.

"I want you to come and talk to Christine, tonight. She will be having dinner with me and Julie, I want you to come."

"You are insane, boy!"

"Don't call me that," Raoul said, now scowling at Erik's condescending manner. "I am almost fourty, monsieur, and I am concerned for her. We might not be married anymore, but she is still the woman I love and the mother of my child. And since she falsely accused Madeleine of hurting Julie, she has not been herself. During the last nights she was at my house, I heard her crying, all night long. She doesn't sleep more than perhaps three hours a night, she hardly eats… I doubt you would recognise her, she is but a shadow of her former self. She needs your forgiveness, Erik, please! Your forgiveness and…" he added in a bitter voice, "your love! As you need hers!"

The shell around Erik's heart cracked, then crumbled.

"I would forgive her in a heartbeat, Raoul. But it is not I she hurt. She must have Madeleine's forgiveness. Still, I will come tonight, to speak to her." He sighed. "What is it about this woman that makes the air grow stale and the sun grow dull when she is not around?"

"I don't know," Raoul replied with a sigh of his own, "I never figured it out, and I was married to her for eighteen years."

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Julie was nervous. She had been talking to her sister for about an hour now and they were getting along perfectly, but the request she was about to make might still be taken the wrong way.

"Maddy?" she began timidly. Her sister smiled at the endearing short form for her name. Not even her father had called her that for a long time.

"Yes?"

"You consider me family, don't you? Like your father?"

"Yes, of course," Madeleine replied, "You are my sister. Why?"

"Well, if I am family, you shouldn't have to wear that mask. I won't be frightened," she added hastily, "I promise! I just want to see you! You, not your mask!"

The older girl cast an uneasy glance her way, but she reached into her hair with shaking hands, untied the straps and pulled the mask off her face. She was awarded with a smile and a firm hug.

"Now, that wasn't so difficult, was it?"

dbdbdbdb

Jean Des Cars, on his way to pick up his sister, heard girls' voices as he passed a store room on his way to the backstage area.

A pleasant, high voice said with a laugh, "Come on, Madeleine. Mama said your father sings more beautiful than all the angels, and you have his talent. Please, just a little bit, for me! Sing!"

He stopped, curious, and listened. Then a voice replied. It was the softest, most gentle voice he had ever heard. It conjured images of honey and velvet, of soft fingers caressing skin… Then, it dawned on him that he had heard the voice before. The woman at the Bal Masque, the one he had assisted. She had only spoken a few words, but he had never been able to forget it.

"Very well, you little pixie. But let me tell you, you can't charm your way through everything." She was joking, there was laughter in her voice.

And then she began to sing.

And for a moment, Jean was sure he had died and gone to heaven. The voice sent his soul to high heavens. It was almost too beautiful to be real, too perfectly pitched, too easily climbing from the highest soprano to an almost alto range, dancing through the air. He paid no attention to the words, he just listened. And then he knew that he had to find out who this woman was. After all, he had only seen her at the Masquerade.

So he approached the entrance, turned the knob and opened the door…

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Madeleine had sung a song her father had written for her two years ago. It was called 'Endless' and it had been his birthday present for her.

Julie was in tears by the time her sister had finished singing. The song was complicated and nobody with a smaller range than Madeleine could have sung it. Even Christine would have had difficulties.

Madeleine laughed at the rapture in Julie's eyes and gracefully tossed her hair back over her shoulder.

"That was wonderful," Julie exclaimed, "and you have to…" She was interrupted by a shout.

"Good God!"

They turned to the door, and the man who had just entered. Madeleine recognized him at once as Jean Des Cars, brother of Suzette, the ballerina.

He was easily the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He was tall, at least two inches over six feet, and had a perfect masculine figure, with broad shoulders, long legs and strong arms. His hands were big, yet long and graceful.

From a distance, his eyes might have seemed blue, but up close, Madeleine recognized them as greyish green, deep and mesmerizing. Dark eyebrows, a high forehead and cheekbones and the strong chin added to that and the dark, unruly curls of his hair provided the perfect frame.

But what drew Madeleine's attention most of all were his lips. The looked soft and sensual, and it took Erik's daughter a long moment to come out of her dream world and realize that his perfect face was set in a grimace of disgust.

She rose from her seat and took a step toward him, without being quite sure what she wanted to say.

She didn't get the chance anyway, for the moment he saw the nightmarish creature come close, Jean turned and fled.

Madeleine felt an icy numbness spread through her body. As she slowly sank to her knees on the floor, she didn't notice Julie's quiet sobbing, nor her own tears that streamed down her face and onto the mask she held between her limp fingers.

A/N: Erik is being really mean to me as of late. He doesn't like anything I write, but I brought him new music sheets, so now he's occupied with composing more music and I can write in peace. Tell me your thoughts. REVIEW! Oh, and whoever guesses what actor I based Jean on (it's not hard, just think back a little) and what his future role will be, will get their very own Erik-plushie to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, till death do you part!

Love you all!

P.F.A.