My dear readers!
I am excited to deliver to you, another chapter. I think I have done a relatively good job at keeping the fluff level to a minimum. Take this as your warning that the remaining chapters may be a bit more fluffy than all those before. Also, I know all of you may not be following both of my stories, but it is necessary to do so to see the relation between them.
Enigmatic Darkness will be a rather sad story. I have to redeem myself and my characters somewhere, so this will be a much better ending. You're warned:)
AngelicFlutist, Cassi, and all of you other reviewers. I appreciate your words and thoughts. Please continue!
my-echo - I am terribly sorry that you were ill! Now I feel rather guilty for pouting in your general direction over the delay in OW. I am glad you're feeling better, and I look foward to reading the next chapter very soon!
As a final note, I will try to update ED in a few hours as well.
When strange things happen, it is hard to imagine that life will again resume it's normal rhythms. The sun will rise and set again, the body will require food consumption and rest. As if nothing significant ever happen, life will continue.
Elizabeth found this revelation suddenly strange and overwhelming. Her mother and father seemed to ignore the incident altogether, at least in her presence. They were acting strangely affectionate toward one another, the cool distance Christine usually placed betwixt herself and her husband was absent. Apart from this oddity, they did not speak again of the incident to Elizabeth nor in front of her.
Preparations continued, much to her dismay, for the wedding that was rapidly approaching. William DeGent was a frequent visitor at her home, despite her blatant refusal to see him. He would sit in the parlor with her father and talk endlessly about business or current events, and would charm her mother as well.
All of this served to infuriate Elizabeth. It was as though they had not been in the depths of hell itself and managed to escape unscathed. After all that had happened, all that Christine knew, how could they force her into a farce of a marriage with an insolent fool like William DeGent? Just as life returned to it's normalcy, so did Elizabeth return to her self-imposed exile from her family. She refused to speak to anyone except her ladie's maid, and only then because a soul would simply burst under a burden such as hers.
"It is all ridiculous, really." She huffed, even as she exhaled as sharply as she could manage to allow the young girl behind her to cinch the corset up even tighter. Her deft fingers worked easily at the strings.
"Perhaps it will not be so bad as you imagine, Mademoiselle. He is rather handsome."
Elizabeth sighed heavily, and turned abruptly to face the girl. This caused her efforts to unwind in a single breath, the corset sagging against her Mistress' body. Frustration was easily visible upon the maid's face, but Elizabeth did not notice. She was aghast that looks should dictate an entire marriage!
"Handsome, perhaps, but a complete buffoon!"
Elizabeth was turned at the urging of her female companion, and the dressing continued. Within moments she was presentable, her dark curls pulled atop her head in an unruly mess that framed her face quite charmingly.
A knock sounded at the door, and another young maid peeked her head in.
"A letter, Mademoiselle Elizabeth."
Elizabeth's face lit up, obvious delight and hope flushing her pretty cheeks pink. She rushed forward and snatched the paper from the girls fingertips, tearing it open. In all the time that had passed since they had left that dungeon in the earth, Nicholas had not contacted her. Not so much as a word had been sent to her. How she longed for him! To know that he was well, alive, and that he missed her too. He was her prince charming, the knight in shining armor that would surely rescue her from this impending doom. Wouldn't he?
The words written were devoured quickly, Elizabeth sinking into a chair to murmur half-aloud.
Dearest Elizabeth,
I understand your apprehension towards our upcoming
nuptials. I have not always treated you with the grace
and dignity a lady deserves. I do hope you will forgive
me that disrespect, and allow me to make it up to you.
I can make you happy, Elizabeth. I will.
Join me this evening, for a surprise.
Your eager groom,
William DeGent
Disappointment washed over Elizabeth, finally giving birth to tears. She threw herself onto her bed and began to sob, inconsolable. The poor women in attendance attempted to calm her, and when she seemed to hear not a word she said, they gave each other bewildered glances and simply left her to her misery, closing the door carefully behind.
In the depths of the earth, time flows at a different pace. Nicholas had little to no concept of how much time had passed since he had given Elizabeth a kiss and sent her away with her fortunate family. He missed her terribly, the sunshine of her smile completely absent from this dark and frightening depth that his father called a home.
The aching void was filled a bit, with a newfound excitement. A curiosity that was shared between father and son. A lifetime had been missed, and they had much to make up for.
Though it may not seem odd to an outsider, both Nicholas and Erik were surprised to discover that they were remarkably similar. They shared many of the same interests and passions. Music was a delight they both reveled in, and Erik had taken immediately to teaching Nicholas how to play properly, as he called it. Science, literature, theology, philosophy. Their discussions were endless and ran long into the night.
Erik had mused over his son, as he slept awkwardly in a chair he had occupied during their last debate. For an entire lifetime he had sought love. First from a mother who despised him, and then from a pretty soprano who had rejected him and betrayed him. All those in between only sought to harm him, inflicting invisible but dangerous wounds upon his soul. That which he desired most, to be loved for himself, was within his grasp. How odd and utterly unusual that it would be a man to deliver such a love, and a son no less! How could he be an appropriate father to this brilliant young man? He had no example to follow, no concept of how to provide whatever he may need. And what did he need? He was a man, after all, not a child.
The situation entirely befuddled Erik, but the very next morning he had excused himself from his son's presence and made his way to the surface. Extortion as a very lucrative business, and even two decades later Erik had a ridiculous amount of money hidden away. It would never find a purpose more noble than his current intentions, and so the opera ghost himself set out to procure a more prosperous future for his son.
Days later, it was Nicholas who broached the dreaded subject.
"I cannot stay forever," he muttered lightly, over their shared meal.
"Yes," Erik stated simply.
"I miss her," he continued, before biting into a piece of bread.
"Yes," Erik replied again, understanding all too well.
"She will marry soon."
Erik was caught off guard, both with the news and the dejected tone in his voice.
"Then stop her." The concept seemed simple enough to Erik, who had always tried to take what he desired by force.
"Her parent's wish it. I have nothing to provide for her. I feed horses to survive myself, and I scantly manage that. What sort of home would I offer her? A room in a stable? No, they are wise. The groom is a fool and a coward, but he is wealthy. He can care for her."
Nicholas was melancholy, and his words were weak – as though he were trying to convince himself as well.
Erik listened as politely as one so unaccustomed to propriety could manage, and then inclined his head in disbelief.
"Rubbish! You are the son of a Maestro, Nicholas. You can put the world at her fingertips."
Nicholas scoffed.
"There is still the matter of her parent's, Father."
Nicholas felt terribly uncomfortable with the glint in his father's eyes as he muttered his next words.
"Leave that to me."