A/N - My beloved reviewers. :) Thanks for all of your input. I hope you're enjoying this story as much as I am. Also, I'm glad you've not been frightened off by Erik's lack of conscience so far. While I promise that he won't always be sucha beast, I cannot say I'm not enjoying it. Mwaha.
At any rate, here's s'more for your reading pleasure. Review review!
A thick and velvet darkness seemed to swallow the remains of the Opera Populaire. The streets around it were swathed in light and life continued easily there, but a dark and foreboding circle seemed to surround what was once an opulent stage for the finest of arts. Even Nicholas, furious in that head-strong way that young love often inspired, felt dwarfed by the mere sight of it. He rounded the circumference easily on his horse, trying to discern the easiest path inwards. Finally deciding that the best method would be trial and error, he slipped off of his mount and tethered it nearby. He began up the massive steps toward the main entrance. A voice halted his procession.
"You'll not find him that way."
It was a soft voice, feminine. All too familiar. Nicholas turned toward Elizabeth's mother.
"If you've come to prevent me, Madame, I insist that you leave now."
Christine smiled. It was an odd expression and one that he had not yet seen on her face. She looked quite young when she did, and very much like Elizabeth. Her eyes seemed saddened and fearful as she stared at him.
"You will not find him that way," she repeated, this time in a whisper. Stepping about the young man - she ascended the steps part-way and then diverted to one side. Nicholas hesitated but a moment, and then followed her.
They entered the massive hall from the side, and once his eyes adjusted to the nearly painful darkness Nicholas understood her cryptic words. At least partially. If he had come in by the main doors, the convenient way the stone had fallen would have routed him through the great rotunda and out another door. They were able to scale the dangerously damaged stairwell this way, and disappear into the bowels of the theater.
Christine seemed as comfortable in the darkness here as she would have the light. She easily navigated from room to room, until they stood in what Nicholas could not recognize as her former dressing room. She stepped to the mirror, and pursed her lips in thought. She had never sought him this way, and had no idea of how to trigger the mechanism. She began to feel about it clumsily. By chance, she managed to press in just the right place. The door slid open with little more than a groan. Christine cast a glance over her shoulder towards Nicholas, and then stepped into the dark passage.
"Keep your hand at the level of your eyes," she murmured softly. Nicholas consented with little argument, but he insisted on walking ahead of her. They began their descent, toward the world beneath their feet.
"Eat," the cruel voice insisted. Elizabeth pushed the plate away, pursing her lips willfully. He only laughed, and it made her feel foolish. She relented and grasped the plate, picking at the bread and cheese upon it.
The heavy cape provided no protection against it's owner, even as it perched atop Elizabeth's delicate frame. She was settled upon the divan, with her legs curled into her chest and his cloak draped around her. Her eyes were red with the tears she had shed, and the imprint of boney fingers bruised the tender insides of her wrists, from a scuffle they had gotten into in the hours before. How long had she been here already? Days? It seemed an eternity.
Erik paced idly, realizing it made the girl quite nervous when he did so. He was enjoying this so. When had his mind slipped to such depraved depths, that he enjoyed torturing a poor girl? Ah, well. He did enjoy it so. And so he shall!
With no announcement, he took a seat directly behind Elizabeth, forcing her warm body against his cool and relentless form. He reached about to the clasp of his cloak. It was unfastened easily, and he removed it from one of her shoulders. There, he busied his hand in stroking the column of her smooth throat, and toying with those pretty curls.
"You have your mother's hair," he breathed against her. She stiffened noticeably. The beast sighed. He really did not want to hypnotize her, but if he must.. well then, he would.
"Relax," he goaded her, allowing his voice to dip into a sultry murmur. Against her will, Elizabeth shuddered. Erik could not help but smile at the effect it seemed to have on her. He would have to remember that. He continued to stroke the soft flesh, and bid her finish her meal. Hesitantly, she obeyed.
"What do you want?" Finally the girl spoke, though it was quite meekly. "When will you release me?" She could feel the laugh in his chest before she heard the maniacal strain.
"You, of course. And never. You see," he spoke in a tone that was condescending. As though she were a tiny child. "Your mother did a lot of very bad things to me, sweet little Beth. You will pay for her sins."
Elizabeth wept again, and freely. Her captor removed the cloak entirely, which caused her small body to shake all the more with sobs. He pulled her closer, until she was pressed flush against him. Then he draped the luxurious fabric over her from the front, and rocked her soothingly. In that lurid voice that tempted her so, he began to sing. A soft lullaby.
Despite all of her reservations, Elizabeth was calmed by his sudden gentleness and of course, his voice. Unwittingly, she nestled into his arms a bit more and felt her lids go heavy. Within moments, she was asleep within his arms.
Erik was left to silence, watching the girl within his arms, feeling her breath expelled against his cheek. Oh, yes. He could get used to this.
"We're lost," Nicholas grumbled over his shoulder. "We've passed the same doorway at least a dozen times!"
Christine could not argue with his logic. Erik had obviously changed the tunnels extensively since she had been in them last. To keep unwanted intruders out, no doubt. Did that include her?
"There must be a catch," Christine murmured against the darkness that enveloped them both. Her fingers turned to the damp walls, prying into every nook and crevice. She pressed upon a stone that felt loose, and smiled in triumph when the creak of gears was heard.
Much to her astonishment, the perceived outcome did not follow. Instead, a heavy blade fashioned much like a guillotine fell betwixt her and Nicholas. Luckily, both had fallen aside just in time to avoid it's severing kiss. A roar filled their tiny cavern, and suddenly the sound of air rushing upwards preluded the disappearance of Nicholas. He had fallen through the floor, it seemed! The silver blade still blocked her pathway along the tunnel, and was sharp on both edges. It would be impossible to climb over.
"Hello!" She cried, having forgotten the boy's name. In the distance, a splash answered her - and then she heard the heavy groan of moving stone. The portal had closed and she was alone in the darkness, with only dread for what may now happen to the young man.
Elizabeth stirred. She was alone, or so it seemed. Instead of the divan, she was now resting quite comfortably in a bed that was fashioned into the shape of a swan. Oh, how lovely she would have thought it was in any other situation. Currently, however, she realized that she was indeed waking. This was not a dream, as desperately as she may wish it to be so. The poor girl sat up quickly, squinting through the dark drapery that surrounded her.
"Master?" Her voice was fluid and sweet, and sounded strange even to her. It was as though this entire cavern teemed with music's sweet blessing and it had bestowed that kiss upon her voice as well.
"Come," his dark voice answered her. Elizabeth trembled. Oh, how she longed to run to him when he used that tone! It was as though it wrapped around the essence of her mind and controlled her. Just like a puppet. She struggled against that desire, managing to calmly rise and step out of the chamber. He was seated at his organ, scratching busily at the paper with his quill. Elizabeth hesitated.
Erik lifted his head to glance at her. The obedience he would instill in her was progressing nicely, but she was still slow. A glowering expression caused her feet to move again, and he allowed himself the freedom to marvel at her youth. Her beauty, and sensuality. She did not look as much like her mother as he had first thought. There was quite a bit of de Chagny in her. The structure of her cheekbones were less rounded, more regal in appearance than Christine's. Altogether, she did not have that fragile look that Christine had always had. She seemed more malleable, more... touchable. Yes, she would be fine to touch. A sinister smile had curled upon his lips as she neared him. Her delectable flesh trembled, and it did not go unnoticed. He reached out to stroke the length of her arm, and she pulled away.
"Ah, there is a fight left in you yet." Again his tone seemed to mock her. Elizabeth found herself awed by the abilities he had with his voice. He could farce any emotion he wished, it seemed, without the need of expression. "Sit."
Elizabeth cast her gaze about quickly. She did not want to sit upon the frigid floor, but the only other option was.. his knee. To the surprise of both of them, she took the latter option and settled dangerously close to her captor.
"There are a few things I would tell you," Erik began, stroking her stocking covered knee. Elizabeth recoiled, and the action nearly caused her to fall backwards onto the unforgiving stone. A deft arm quickly caught her about the waist, and her own arms lifted in self-preservation to wrap about his neck. He was temptingly close now, and Elizabeth could feel the stiffness in his limbs relax. He quickly turned the embrace into a sort of caress, and when she did not respond as he desired - his lips parted in song.
"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses... Slowly, gently night unfurls it's splendor. Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender..."
Elizabeth struggled against the power his voice commanded over her, shaking her head against him even as her eyes fell closed. His fingertips ventured up over the curvature of her thigh, lightly tracing the shape of her hip and flat stomach. Her breath stole inwards. His exploration ventured higher until his fingers again played at her throat. Oh, how beautiful this creature was! Erik dipped his head, imbibing of the scent of her. Her warmth was calming, appealing - and he pressed the slight form on his lap closer. Elizabeth sighed, a pleasured sound, and allowed her chin to tip back. The fullness of her throat was exposed to his breath, even as he sang against her.
"Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams! Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before! Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar. And you'll live, as you've never lived before."
In a distant way, Elizabeth realized his voice held the power to seduce her. Her mind beat wildly against his sway, and yet she trembled with delight atop his thighs. He held her closely, managing to touch her, caress her, while crossing precious few boundaries. He paused in his song, and she felt his lips upon her throat. Unbidden and to her horror, a soft moan escaped her. She felt him chuckle lightly against her, as if amused by her response.
"Your body betrays you," he seemed to speak, yet his lips did not move. Within her mind he taunted her, and she felt fury through the pleasure.
As suddenly as their little interlude had started, it ceased when Erik lifted his head suddenly. He seemed to be staring through the massive iron bars upon the lake. His eyes narrowed then, and he stood abruptly, very nearly throwing Elizabeth to the ground. She managed to catch herself awkwardly and found herself standing as well. She was flushed, her breathing was labored - and suddenly she felt very embarrassed.
"What is it?" She rasped, following his gaze but seeing nothing but the idle dance of the waters.
"Stay here," he commanded. The desirous play of his voice was gone, and the cruel and demanding Master had returned. Elizabeth shrank away, and retreated to the protection of the swan bed.
Erik, meanwhile, had disappeared before she could look towards him once more.