---------- Dark Dreams Chapter 4:
Like I said before. 3 months. Of NOTHING. Not a word. Not a sound. Not a single red-inked note. People had even stopped talking about the 'Opera Ghost'. Some even dared to call Erik's presence nothing more than a horribly long-standing-joke of sorts. I nearly lost hope. Doubts were constantly hanging over me like a continuous black cloud above my head. Horrible scenarios swam in my mind whenever my thoughts wandered...
What if something had happened to him? What if he had been caught and executed? That couldn't have happened, my hopeful mind concluded, because I would have heard of such a thing by now. But I kept the black silk ribbon from that night on the roof in my pocket just for reassurance. Each time I felt the soft coolness of the fabric, my faith and love in Erik restored with a warm feeling that seemed to make me walk with a bit more bounce to my step. And besides, when ever I would practice on my violin, I always got the sensation I was being watched- but no one was around.
Finally, on Christmas Eve, I received my first sign of Erik, though at the time I wasn't sure. I had been on an errand for Mr .Reyer to run to the cellars to get another bottle of wine for the crew's Christmas dinner, when I heard the same entrancing baritone voice that had made an angry declaration to the November night sky, singing 'Silent Night'. I paused to listen, then continued on my way, singing along with Erik until his voice faded into silence as I came to the cellar. Perhaps he had realized he had been heard and stopped? Or maybe it had just been my overly optimistic imagination getting a hold of me again.. Despite all these doubts and speculations, something in my heart told me I wasn't alone. And this was the greatest comfort of all.
With a sudden sense of unrivaled peace and happiness (but not without just a thought of relief), I was singing as I returned with the wine : "Said the night wind to the little lamb,
do you see what I see
Way up in the sky, little lamb,
do you see what I see
A star, a star, dancing in the night
With a tail as big as a kite
With a tail as big as a kite
Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy,
do you hear what I hear (Then I thought I heard Erik's voice echoing back to me on this chorus)
Ringing through the sky, shepherd boy,
do you hear what I hear
A song, a song, high above the trees
With a voice as big as the sea
With a voice as big as the sea
Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king,
do you know what I know
In your palace warm, mighty king,
do you know what I know
A Child, a Child shivers in the cold
Let us bring Him silver and gold
Let us bring Him silver and gold
Said the king to the people everywhere,
listen to what I say
Pray for peace, people everywhere!
listen to what I say
The Child, the Child, sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light"
Because no one had ever managed to coax me into singing in front of them besides Christine or Meg in my 4 years at the Opera Populaire (and they had kept that incident to them selves), you can imagine the wide-eyed stares I received when I walked in, singing in my slightly deep alto voice. I immediately blushed under everyone's gazes and set the bottles of wine down hastily. Meg and Piangi teased me playfully throughout the whole dinner about that. Christine gave me a little amused smile with that delightful twinkle in her deep brown eyes that made me heart seem to glow all the more.
For the first time in a long time, there was a deep sense of joy and peace flowing through the Opera House that night. Perhaps it was the fact that it was Christmas Eve night? Perhaps it was because (nearly) everyone believed that The Phantom had left us for good at last? And maybe it was because nearly everyone had a great deal too much wine that cold and calm evening. (I personally didn't touch a drop of the stuff. I hate wine... Mitchel always drank wine excessively and I swore never to drink in my life because of him... I get teased for that too.) And though I was completely sober as the evening's festivities winded down (which Piangi pointed out rather LOUDLY in his rich, deeply slurred speech), I could have sworn I heard Erik's deep laugh echoing through out the Opera House that night after words.
Then on New Year's Eve, there was the Ball. One could have been certain that all of the worldly officials from around the globe were going to attend, the way that our Mangers carried on.. The whole theater was decorated beautifully and everyone who was anyone was there, though you'd never know it, since on nearly every face there was a different mask. I was up in my room, getting ready with Meg and Christine when I spied the dazzling ring that was around Christine's slender neck. I arched an eyebrow at her and she blushed promptly. But I didn't press her about it anymore. When I pulled out my dress from my closet, Meg all but had a FIT.
"WHERE DID YOU GET THAT GEM OF DRESS?" the blonde shrieked horribly as she ran over to inspect every detail of my dress that was in my arms.
"I.. Um.. It was a gift..It didn't say who it was from.." I lied quietly, with a blush to make it seem believable. Meg bought my story, but Christine looked oddly troubled.
I had Meg do my hair up in loose-spiraling curls, held up by a rhinestone-studded crown that attached to my dark brown hair, with some ringlets framing my heart shaped face. My mask was simple: black velvet with black embellishments around the edges and eyes.
Christine had to go to meet Raoul, Meg had to go escort the Managers with her Mother, so I was left alone. But before I made my 'entrance', I studied my reflection critically. A woman stood before me where a waif-ish looking girl had stood only moments before. My dark brown locks were piled high on my head, where as they usually hung in a loose pony tail away from my face and out of the way. A black mask covered up most of my pale heart-shaped face, leaving only my mismatched eyes to shimmer behind the glitter and smooth velvet. My lips were painted the color of the darkest of roses, a prominent feature on my face next to my naturally fair skin. Which was a large change for me as I very rarely wore make up.
Inwardly pleased with what I saw in the mirror before me, the Ball awaited me.
I came down one of the two tributary stair cases slowly, as not to trip over my dress's long hem. Frankly, my eyes were glued to my feet. What I didn't notice while I was trying not to trip was the amount of stares I was receiving as I came down the steps, when I finally did look up I immediately noticed the most intent of these looks belonging to a man in a death's head mask and brilliant red dress coat and long cape.
I'll give you three guesses who it was... My gaze went back to my shoes again. My confidence was faltering terribly. I felt my self close back up, my body tense, my resolve lessen. If you had asked the people around me, I think they would have said I 'positively wilted, like a rose in winter'. What was I thinking? I was just a love-sick girl with a crush on someone who loved another. Erik had never noticed me before, so why would this dress change that? 'What a fool I am..' I berated my self harshly in my mind.
But in spite of my confidence cracking inside of me, something compelled me to look up, a silent summoning it seemed. Like a firm hand lifting up my chin, though not a soul was there. Since fighting the call was futile, I glanced up, not daring for one second to believe what I saw before my eyes.
Suddenly, the death's head was right in front of me and I was staring into the bluest pair of eyes I had ever seen. The breath I had just taken died in my throat and my knees turned to nothing but mushy unstable goo. And he hadn't even said a word to me yet. I don't think he would have had to, I was already half way to the moon, just staring into his eyes, reveling in the Phantom's closeness to me. If I had had the courage to, I could have merely lifted my gloved hand and touched the man I had fallen so deeply in love with these last 3 months. But I didn't dare, lest this perfect moment be somehow shattered and I would wake up in my bed from a wonderfully teasing dream.
But I didn't wake up. And this wasn't a dream. But like in so many of my dreams of late, Erik was before me. He was finally seeing me, not Christine, who had refused him. ME, Arielle Reinhardt-De Lenfent. I could have flown to heaven if he had asked me to.
On Erik's face there was a small smile, as if he was trying to conceal his amusement. Out of habit, I curtsied, feeling more than a little self conscious. "Monsieur." I greeted quietly, inwardly praying that my voice wouldn't quiver. Which thankfully it didn't.
"Mademoiselle.." Erik whispered in similar greeting as he bowed and to my complete surprise took my hand and kissed it lightly. Shivers (of the pleasant kind) ran down my back at the sensation of his lips touching my hand, even if it was through a thin layer of satin.
In the back of my mind, I was very grateful of the mask that covered my face, that also hid my furiously blushing face. Or so I hoped.
And Erik had yet to release my hand from his.
Slowly, as if struggling to reach me through my surreal state of mind, the gathering sound of music finally reached my ears. I glanced over Erik's shoulder where the band and my mentor Maestro Reyer were playing a sweet slow song. Almost as an after thought, I felt the slight need to be near them, playing my violin out of routine... But no.. Maestro had let me go to the Ball. It was alright for me to be here and not playing. The haze I felt I was shrouded in was lifting, like a light morning mist..
But as soon a Erik pressed gently on my hand to get my attention, my mind returned the dream-like-state it had been in only a moment before. "You seem distracted.." the man behind the mask observed lightly, his deep voice almost chuckling, but he continued, "But I wonder if I might have the pleasure of this dance, my lady?" Erik asked in nothing short of a murmur.
I didn't have to be asked again, and by warm gloved hands I was lead to the second level dance floor. Fluidly, almost like water we danced, twirled and spun to the music that seemed not to come from the band playing some hundred meters away, but from the very air around us. Even though, before now, I would have killed any other dance partner's feet. My mind could not shake the feeling that this was nothing more than a dream, though I silently prayed with all my being that it wasn't. I was dancing with Erik. And heaven help the poor soul who tried to take this little piece of heaven from me...