Authoress' Notes: These characters belong to ALW yadda yadda yadda, based on Gaston L.'s story blah blah blah, you know the story. This chapter's been a long time coming, so here it is! I hope you like it!

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A Twist of Faith
Chapter Four: Soft as Candlelight
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The next day, reports came to rehearsals about M. Gallin's condition. Needless to say his hands were ruined. His right had lost two fingers and his left wrist had been cracked in two, so he would never grip the same way again. This meant that Elaine was now the head violinist of the orchestra.

Elaine positively glowed when she heard the news. Now she would show everyone just what they'd been missing. She felt like dancing, and yet she couldn't help feeling guilty. She had gained the position at Gallin's expense. Before she could mull over it anymore, Meg nearly knocked her over in a great hug.

"Elaine, it's so wonderful!" she bubbled, grabbing her hands in her excitement. "No more waiting for that distant window! It's all yours now!"

Elaine tried to smile, but only half of her lips obeyed, "Yes, but at a price. I still can't get his screaming out of my head."

Meg's mind raced, trying to think of a way to cheer her up about it, "Well... maybe it isn't such a great loss."

Hearing an echo of her own words, Elaine's eyes sparkled and she laughed out loud, "Such a range! Maybe he should be the lead soprano!" she giggled and Meg joined her as they left the stage to warm up. Elaine felt the weight of her watch in her pocket and reached in to check the time. Five after three. "Five hours," she said quietly, and Meg looked up from her stretches.

"Hmm? What's that?"

"Oh, I'm meeting someone tonight at eight," she answered brightly.

"Oh, are you now?" Meg grinned, nudging her jokingly, "Now I wonder who... oh," her smile suddenly vanished.

Elaine looked at her, confused, "What's... oh Meg don't look at me like that. I've already promised to be careful."

"I know, but, I'm scared. I can't help it. Must you?"

Elaine firmly nodded, "Yes Meg, I must. He just sounds like... I don't know, but I can't refuse. Can you understand?"

Meg looked at the ground, debating a moment. Knowing about most of the man's past, she was ever imbued with an anxiety about him. Yet, she recalled the letter, reading how carefully he chose the way to meet, giving her the choice. Maybe he was just lonely, she could think of no one who knew loneliness like him. Maybe he deserved to meet Elaine. After a moment, she looked up at Elaine and nodded solemnly. Then she smiled, "Just remember, you 'pinky-linked'. If you're not careful, I'll break your finger, and you'll start playing like Gallin!" She tried to sound menacing, but failed entirely.

"Oh cruel and unusual torment!" Elaine wailed, stifling her laughter. Meg snorted and they broke up helplessly all the way back to the stage. Unknown to them, above them a pair of eyes glistened with unshed tears, his lips curled into a soft grin.

After three fifteen, Carlotta had not returned, so her understudy, a younger girl named Genevieve, was instructed to sing, which was a mercy on Elaine's ears. She handled the romantic feel of the arias very well, and was beautifully voiced for an understudy. Pigheaded idiots, those managers, she thought. She should've gotten the role in the first place. She smiled inwardly, thinking how she wouldn't be surprised if they discovered Carlotta with her mouth fastened shut.

From the column in the wings, Erik held his breath in awe at the music he heard on his stage. The young singer was properly trained and fit the part, the chorus never wavered and the orchestra sounded perfect. He knew why; there was no lack wit violinist in the head chair, only a lovely intelligent young woman who played like an angel. Her music said so much about her, things that he might discover tonight. He checked his silver pocket watch. "Four and a half hours," he sighed, glancing at her again, "Well worth the wait."

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As soon as rehearsals let out at seven, Elaine raced back to her room. Latching the door, she tore through her wardrobe, pushing racks of dresses aside. She pulled out one of her favorites; a comfortable linen dress in a warm green, and a clean slip and laid them in the hammock. Then she set to her appearance. After catching the brush in her hair twice, she took a deep breath and slowed down.

Why am I so eager to meet him? Maybe it's not eagerness and I'm truly afraid? Why else would I be rushing? Maybe that's what I'm doing, rushing headlong into...a friendship?

But she had a right to want to be friends, didn't she? So why was she so jumpy? She looked at her reflection and was astonished at what she saw; a little girl all excited about meeting a boy.

But she was no longer a little girl, and O.G. was certainly no boy.

Still staring into her own eyes, she reviewed her situation. A mysterious note, from a man that she was gradually figuring out, who wanted to meet her, "cordially" as it was.

So that was that. She wasn't scared, her inner child was just a little noisy. Just take a breath now, there. Stop hopping about the room like a cricket! She told herself and nodded. Slowly, she drew the brush through her thick tresses. She worked gentler and was done in less time than she expected. Feeling comfortable and looking, she thought, naturally pretty, she tuned her violin, slipped into her soft shoes and walked cautiously towards the stage.

--

Up in Box Five, Erik checked his watch for the third time. 'Five minutes to eight. God, the time refuses to pass.' He wondered with some apprehension if this was such a good idea, if it was all a big mistake. Then another thought popped into his worrying mind: What if his watch was slow and she had decided not to come at all. He shuddered inwardly and drew himself deeper into his cloak.

Then there was a soft light in the wings and he sat up in his chair. A small figure carefully peeked onto the stage, carrying a tiny candle.

Elaine.

Erik's heart sang. So she had wanted to meet him after all. He exited his box and silently made his way to the stage. Just as he entered his secret column, he heard something emanating from the stage. It was soft and muted, but incredibly sweet. It gradually grew stronger, yet retained its unearthly beauty, like the perfume of an opening rose.

He looked trough a tiny space in the column to discover Elaine seated on the floor drawing the slender bow over the violin strings, like a spinner drawing golden threads from a wheel. The music washed over him like warm waves, inviting him deeper and deeper into the drowning. Of their own free will, his hands sought the opening of his hiding place and he exited into the wings. He stood there, watching her sway in the candlelight as the music moved her. She was playing an aria from the opera, the lead tenor's ironically enough, and Erik could no longer help himself.

Softly, he lifted his ethereal voice, letting the lyrics roll off of his tongue and fill the air. Languidly, he grew bolder, taking slow, trance-like steps towards the soft, hazy light, letting his song become louder and richer than ever. The song ended just before he reached the circle of light where she sat, seemingly unaware or unmindful of his presence. She set the violin into its case and gazed up into the rafters.

"O.G." she asked the air above her.

"Yes mam'selle. I'm here," replied Erik, gathering his wits back from... wherever she guided them.

Elaine stood up and faced him, or rather the direction of his voice, and smiled brightly. "I'm glad you came."

Erik chuckled low, "Did you think I wouldn't?"

"Well, maybe a bit, but not enough to worry me to death," she stammered, certain that she was blushing. A length of silence passed between them, and she began to feel anxious about not seeing him.

Erik sensed her discomfort. "Your music is exquisite, my dear," he purred, taking a timid step closer, but careful to remain cloaked in shadow.

"As is your voice!" she said almost ecstatic, "You're singing is incredible O.G." she glanced at her feet and smiled sheepishly, "That is obviously not your title m'sieur..."

"Erik," he said, answering her unspoken question. "Call me Erik."

"Erik...it's wonderful. So that means no more 'mam'selles' for you. It's Elaine from now on Erik," then she laughed softly, "Unfortunately, I have no face to pair with such a nice name. I cannot quite see you Erik."

Erik growled to himself. This was what he was afraid of. "You will never see my face Elaine." He saw her cock her head. He'd confused her. "I mean... well..."

"Erik?"

He took a deep breath, "Promise me you won't run," he whispered raggedly. She nodded and chuckled.

"This is the third promise I've made this week."

Erik tried to smile, but found himself unable to shed the fear that she would ask about... he pushed the thought aside and slowly, cautiously emerged from the shadows.

Elaine's breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. He towered over her, at least a foot taller than she. His build was strong and cast a rich shadow into the circle of candlelight. He was dressed in full, fine evening attire, all ebony black; rich, yet elegantly modest. He wore a floppy black felt hat, drawn low over his brow. His hands were long and tapered and all around him, an aura of command radiated from him, yet he wasn't threatening to her in the least. Most distinctive was a white porcelain mask covering the right side of his forehead and cheek and over his nose. The other half of his face was exposed, well molded and regally handsome. Now she saw why he said she wouldn't see his face.

Erik waited with baited breath for her reaction, silently hoping she wouldn't shrink away. Then she did just the opposite, she took a soft step towards him. Instinctively, he let himself melt back into the shadows, and she stopped short.

"Oh... I-I'm sorry Erik..." she whispered.

Erik's eyes softened. "For...for what?"

Elaine looked up at him, "I...I just felt that I was advancing on you, being too forward and... I made you afraid," her voice wavered, "Forgive me please." She dropped her head and clasped her hands to her breast. Erik's defenses gave way slightly and tears pricked at his eyes. He walked back into the light towards her.

"Elaine? Please look at me. I need to know that you are not afraid. I... you didn't...it's just that no one has ever really wanted to get close to someone like me and I was so afraid I would frighten you."

Elaine opened her eyes and looked up at him. But before she could answer him, a strange wondrous look crossed her face. "Your eyes... they're, I've never seen..." she trailed off in awe. One of his eyes was the color of a swollen storm cloud; the other was a deep, jewel-like green with tiny flecks of gold all through it. "I like them..." Erik smiled at her wonder. She was not staring at him; it seemed she was marveling at him, drinking him in. And he too, could not stop himself from falling into her golden gaze. "Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Will... will you sing again please? I like your voice."

Erik smiled softly, "Of course. What would you like to hear?"

"Another aria. You sing them as if you wrote them," she replied, sitting next to the candle again. Erik looked at her, at the pure innocence in her face, the life shimmering pink on her cheeks. Unconsciously, his voice lifted in a song about a love struck boy marveling over the beauty of his lover.

Elaine closed her eyes and let the music envelope her like a cloud of fragrance. His voice was like warm honey: golden, sweet and fluid. His tenor and baritone were operatic, yet they held a more liberal, angelic quality you seldom hear outside of dreams. The lyrics and notes were familiar, yet she felt like she'd never heard it before tonight. It seemed that the song itself was a silken banner, caressing over her in soft, sensual folds.

When the song ended, rich echoes hung all through the air. Erik breathed deeply; how he'd missed singing! He looked down at Elaine, her eyes closed, long lashes dusting shadows onto her cheeks. Such a pretty child. Then she opened her eyes and smiled sunlight at him.

"Marvelous... absolutely beautiful Erik," she gasped, suddenly breathless. He extended his hand to her, which she gratefully took, standing up. He didn't let it go, but bent low and kissed it lingeringly, and she felt her face burn.

"It was lovely to have met you Elaine," he said sincerely. She covered his hand with her own and grinned into his eyes.

"Yes it was. So, shall we meet here again?"

Erik's mind reeled a moment. She truly wants to be friends, with me... "Tomorrow night at the same time," he answered, barely thinking.

Her brow furrowed, "Sorry, I have an appointment at eight," Erik's heart sank, seeing this as a brush-off. "I can meet you right after rehearsals though. Is that alright?"

Erik's eyes lit up, revived, "Thank you, I... that will do fine."

"Wonderful!" she beamed. "Well, goodnight Erik," she said picking up her violin.

He smiled and her eyes fastened on his full lips. "Goodnight Elaine. Sweet dreams."

"To you as well," she called over her shoulder as she walked off into the wings, her steps slow and gliding. Erik felt a barely discernable spring in his step as he entered the secret passage to his home. The forgotten candle, reveling in the secret exchange it alone had witnessed, danced and flickered deep into the night until it too slept in the darkness.