Disclaimer: As a formality I do not own any of the characters except for Delphine Aubade and the surrounding supporting characters (like her father, little Henri de Chagny, or Therese).
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Chapter Two- Marguerite's Sonata
Delphine
Delphine awoke to the sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. It lay sprawled across her bed. She slowly dragged herself upright and shifted over to the balcony doors. As she threw them open she heard the simple melody of a bird in the tree right in front of her balcony.
She stretched her limbs and leaned her elbows on the cool railing. Her dressing gown swaying in the wind, she felt like she could fly. The worst memories of last night had vanished as soon as she had swept herself into her musical domain in their basement. She spent much of the night dusting off her instruments.
She had polished her flute to pristine condition. She had tuned her violin. She had carefully dusted off each and every key on her piano. Her stacks of sheet music were taken out and the leather composer's folders she had tucked away under the floorboards of her bedroom were once again revealed to her in a glimmer of beauty. The songs, she had long forgotten came from her, flew from her fingers and into the air.
She found it remarkable that she had composed whole movements and she was equally surprised that they did not sound like she had felt so often the past few weeks.
Now as she stood, looking over the courtyard, she felt a sense of pride and strength flourish in her heart. Why had she ever let her music fall through her hands.
As she turned in her room and saw the gold chain hanging down from her vanity she felt the sadness rush over her again. Robert. That was why she had given up her music.
She could vaguely remember what she had been like three years prior to the whole affair. She had been a nationally renowned musician. She was excellent. She had perfect form and her music conveyed such emotion that it sent many people into weeps and made them sob or laugh with joy. Whatever she wanted from her music she got. She knew how to work with it without destroying its ability to stand on its own.
She remembered the first time she traveled to England she had been met by a group of French immigrants who were staying in London. They had even spread her fame across the Channel. She had been a whirlwind of joy and ecstasy. The most happiest sixteen year old one could possibly find.
While in England she had met the mysterious Robert Lennings. He had been quite taken with her music and said she must have been a prodigy when she was a child. She had laughed at him with the laugh of a girl who was rather embarrassed. He had playfully mocked her. From that moment on she was taken. She lived that whole month in London waiting for him to say to her what she felt for him. Two years her elder, she knew she should not expect so much but she couldn't help it. He gave her every sign of mutual feelings.
On her last day he had said it. Those three words that had made her decide to do whatever he wanted her to do. She had no idea that when he proposed she would be forced to give up her life's work. It wasn't so much that he had told her to give it up as it was his subtle ways of saying that a good wife would stay home and do the cooking and cleaning. Now just the thought of that alone sent her mind reeling. She had never had to do any of that before. She had always had maids to cater to her needs. But Robert was from the middle class and he wanted a wife who could do such things for him when her family was no longer providing money.
Two years into their relationship, a year before she had discovered he had run off with Nicole, he had went to her last performance. He did not seem to care that the audience knew why sweet and serene Delphine Aubade, who had dedicated her life to music, was suddenly dropping her talent. He did not seem to care about the hostilities that he faced from her extending family and friends.
That night when he had taken her into the carriage to drive to his flat in Northern Paris she had cried. "Don't worry." He said with a sad smile as he wiped a tear from her cheek. "You can always play for the family." That had set her off all over again. Soothingly, he had taken her hand and brought it to his lips. "I know how hard that was for you. Trust me, I appreciate it more than you will ever know. I promise you, I'll make up for it." And just like that she had locked the basement door and hidden her love for music under the floorboards.
As she looked back on it, his promise seemed rather small compared to the promise she had made to Music. True, she was no Christine Daae. True, her Angel of Music was much less in love with her but they had vowed to each other never to let go. In her love for a simple man who had excruciatingly simple ways she had abandoned her God-given gift. She would never make that mistake again.
Robert had never made her as happy as when she was playing music, as when music was all she needed to survive. Where he thought he could prove to her that love without sacrifice was not love at all she had known all along that he was wrong. He could not ever have possibly sustained her like music did.
All of this had came back to her as she came home from the Opera House last night. It amazed her how one feverish sleep, like the one she had had in the leading lady's dressing room, had made her see that God opened a window when he shut a door. She did not particularly favor the Opera House over her own musical domain. However, she had to say that it had given her something she had thought she lost forever.
This is why, as she walked about her room thinking about the past, she decided she would go to the Opera Populaire and inquire about taking a position in the pit orchestra. She felt that if she could spend time in the place where her newly written Overture of Excalibur had been inspired she might be able to repay the debt that she owed to the Gods of the Opera House.
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Delphine found herself waiting outside of the managerial office of Monsieur Philippe La Fuevre. She held in her gloved hands two piece of music. One was the requiem mass for a woman named La Sorelli and the other was a piece of music she had acquired through the family friends, the Chagnys. It was a piece of music that Christine De Chagny had written. Angel of Music.
She adored Christine and adored her powerful figure over music and so when she offered to loan her the piece to audition she jumped at the chance. She sighed and leaned against the wall. She had been told to wait for a minute. That was about ten minutes ago. Whatever was keeping La Fuevre it must certainly be important.
She took a long look at Angel of Music. It seemed to resonate with a kind of sadness, just like all of Christine's work. Everyone knew she loved music but she also couldn't stand to be around it. She began humming a few lines and before she knew it, she was singing the lyrics that had been written to accompany it.
"Angel of Music, Hide no longer, secret and strange angel."
As she let the last note flow through the air she looked down the hall to see La Fuevre approaching with a fast stride. "Ah, Mademoiselle Aubade. It is good to see you again. I was told you had a question to ask me."
"Oh yes," She said as she followed him into his office. It was cluttered with papers. Mounds of papers that were strewn about the room. She wondered what they all were. He seemed to sense her curiosity and gave her a small smile.
"Opening an Opera House where many murders took place does come with its downsides." He said with a chuckle.
Delphine smiled. She had heard of these stories as well. She had not been in Paris at that time it happened, five years ago. She had been with her mother in Luxembourg. Oh how the details of the tragic event eluded her. She had even wanted to compose a movement in honor of those that perished. When Christine found out she had threatened to break all ties with girl. Delphine would rather forget about the whole affair than lose Christine. Since her mother's death, Christine had took on an adoptive mother-like role. Delphine looked up to her more than anyone would ever know.
"Monsieur, I was hoping, or rather wondering if you had any spaces available in your orchestra?"
"What? Oh yes. Of course we do. Even if we didn't we would make room for you." He said with another smile. Delphine liked the elderly man. Something about his lopsided grin, disheveled hair, and yet graceful movements had made him a prime target of admiration. Beside, anyone who could restore the Opera Populaire to its former glory deserved to be liked. "Did you want to start soon?"
"Oh yes, in time for the next opera. At least that was the plan."
"Good, Il Muto could use a good musician like you. We are hoping to put that into production two weeks from today." He said.
"Really, well that should be delightful."
"I know the little operetta should lighten people's attitudes towards the place. People only came last night to see if anyone fell into the clutches of the Opera Ghost." He scoffed. "That character has long since abandoned his shadowy haunt." He said reassuringly. "I looked everywhere. The cellars especially. Besides, with the fire that gutted the place he could not have survived." He said with false optimism.
"I am sure." Delphine said. "Well, thank you. I will do you justice."
"I am sure you will." He replied. "If you go down to the orchestra pit now I am sure the maestro could give you the music." He said. She nodded and turned to leave. He had started to shuffle papers when he looked up and called to her. "Rehearsals start next week." He said as an after thought. She smiled and nodded before she shut the door behind her.
---
Delphine sat next to Albert Michel, a cello player. They laughed as the maestro shook his head disapprovingly of the way the cast was acting. They were running about bickering with each other. "Monsieur La Fuevre was right, Il Muto certainly did lighten the mood." Delphine said with a laugh.
"Oh!" Cried the maestro as one of the chorus girls tripped over a stretching ballerina and tumbled onto him. "Therese." He scolded. "Why don't you watch were you are going?" he said.
The blonde girl smiled uneasily and tried to pick herself up off of the floor. She let out a scream of pain. All eyes turned to her. The first accident in the opera house. "I think it's sprained." The girl said with tears swimming in her blue eyes.
A group of ballerinas helped her to her feet and brought her down into one of the seats. "Rest until rehearsal is over." The maestro said.
"But maestro," Therese protested. "The performance is tonight. I won't be able to attend. You know there are only two girls who sing my part. With me gone no one will hear it." She said as she rubbed her ankle. "Pauline is too quiet on her own."
Pauline, a redheaded girl, gave a little glare and stuck her nose up. Delphine watched the maestro consider this and he let out a sigh. "What do you propose I do?" He asked.
Therese looked straight at Delphine. "Mademoiselle Aubade could sing it." She said.
Delphine gave a start. "What!"
"I know you can sing. You sing parts from Faust all the time." Therese said. "We're not asking you to be leading lady-"
"I should think not." Said Isabelle, the leading lady in the performance.
"Just be a chorus girl, for one night." Therese said.
"I don't think so." Delphine said. She was very unconfident in her ability to sing.
"Well…" The maestro said. "sing for us now. It's just a chorus part and if you don't feel confident we could always have a man join you ladies."
Delphine shook her head. "It's not going to happen."
"Please." Therese pleaded. "It's only three lines that you and Pauline are singing alone."
Delphine clutched her violin and shook her head. "I don't sing."
"Oh yes you do." Came an all to familiar voice. Delphine turned to see Christine walking down the aisle.
"What are you doing here?" Delphine asked in surprise.
"I was asked by your father to come and send you home. Your brother has just arrived from Italy." Delphine jumped up and looked at her with excitement.
"Really?" She asked. She gently set down her violin and began packing up her music. "I didn't know he was coming home so early."
She slid her violin into it's case and put it under her seat for that night's performance. As she climbed out of the pit she found Christine blocking her way. "I am not going to let you leave until you agree to sing that simple chorus part for tonight." Christine threatened.
"What does it matter to you?" Delphine asked with curiosity.
"Singing is the only form of music you have left to conquer. You have a voice. So use it."
"But-"
"Yes?"
She looked at Christine's serious face and she crumbled under her demand. "Oh all right." She said. "If I mess up it's all on you though."
"So do a run through right now." Christine suggested as she shrugged.
'But Antoine is waiting at the house."
"I know but you need at least one run through. Besides, little Henri loves to hear you sing." She said in regard to her son who peeked around his mother's dress.
Delphine bent down and looked the three year old in the eyes. "Do you want to hear me sing this?" She asked. The little boy nodded his head and gave her a smile. His sandy blond hair had fallen in front of his eyes. She smiled and reached out to scruff up his hair even more. As she stood up he held out a hand offering her something. "What is it?" She asked.
"I found it there." He said as he pointed towards an empty row. She picked it up out of his hand. It was a beautiful ring. What looked to be like an engagement ring.
"Some poor woman must have lost it." She mused to herself. She looked to Christine. She had gone pale. "What is wrong?"
Christine shook her head. "Nothing." She said. She looked like she wanted to snatch the ring from her.
"Do you want it?" Delphine offered it to her, but Christine backed up as if she had been offered a snake.
"No, you keep it safe for now." She said. Delphine shrugged and slipped it onto her finger so she wouldn't forget she had it. She turned back toward the maestro.
"Can we do the run through now?" He asked. She nodded her head and joined the cast on stage.
---
As Delphine was herded backstage to get dressed for the performance she was told continuously that she had come too late and they would need a miracle to get her ready for the first act, which was the one she was in throughout the whole thing.
She let herself be thrown into a dress and her hair was put up and her face was caked with white powder. Once she was done she felt rather like some stranger. Pauline grabbed her hand ran with her to the stage. They took their position and Delphine held her breath until the curtain was drawn.
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Erik
He stood up in the catwalk as the performance began. Before the curtain was drawn he saw a girl other than the bossy Therese take her position. He studied her nervous expression and the way she held her breath before the curtain was drawn. It was apparent she was not normally a singer. Who would they possibly put up there that wasn't normally up there?
Why would they put someone up there who wasn't normally up there? Someone who was so obviously not a singer. He didn't find much respect for the new owners of the opera house. He had seen La Fuevre walking about. He was too easy going to run things. He had yet to see the other owner.
He didn't even know why he had made one of the infrequent trips to the above ground part of the opera. He had felt the sudden urge to watch tonight's performance. There was really no reason for it. It was not anything to get excited about. Nothing that would ignite passion. Just a simple operetta that played to people's desire to know about love affairs and infidelity.
It didn't appeal to him much. As he watched the people on the stage below he suddenly had the feeling that five years ago, the death of Joseph Buquet had been the only thing to make this show entertaining. If he wasn't afraid to be found out he would entertain the audience's real desire. The foolish owners had to know the only reason why there was such high attendance was because they wanted to see some trace of the tragedy that had been his life, as well as Christine's and even Raoul's.
He might have fed their appetite for real drama if he had felt like killing. He did not. He had not since Christine had shown him what monster he had been. He was not telling himself he had changed. He was sure that somewhere down in his horrible soul there was some need to make other's feel his pain, but he pushed that as far away from him as possible.
He watched the new girl move slowly behind the arrogant Pauline. She was so unsure of herself. Her big duet was about to be performed. Three whole lines. He could tell she was still nervous. He found it ridiculous that someone should be worried about that when other people suffered much worse fates on nights of Il Muto. Carlotta, for example had suffered a croak that sent her career to shambles. Buquet, well enough said about his fate.
He listened to the girl as she and Pauline took up their lines. She had a good voice, a natural voice but she was highly untrained. Sighing, he turned to see the shadow of a stagehand approaching the catwalk he was on. He reached for a rope and quickly climbed up it, into the darkness above.
---
The performance passed without a hitch. He watched as the performers began to walk toward the dancer's lounge. Madame Giry at his side. "Madame Giry, I want to thank you for keeping my secret." Erik said as he looked at the women giggling as they entered. "I am forever in you debt. However, I find it rather dull-witted of you to ask me to be here after ever performance. If I am found out I will have to ask more of you than what I have previously asked of you." He sounded like he was talking to an employee who tried her hardest to do what she was told but could not do it because her mind told her to rebel.
"No Erik, that is not why you are here tonight." Madame Giry said. "I thought you would want to know…Madame de Chagny has made her appearance here."
"When?" Erik asked as he turned around to look at her.
"Earlier today. She was at the rehearsal."
"Why?" He demanded. His heart still yearned to hear of Christine. Five years had not been enough to cure him. He desired to know what had become of the woman who he had loved.
"She has ties with one of the members of the pit orchestra. Delphine Aubade, the one who took Therese's part tonight."
So that was who it was. He had not recognized the girl with all of the makeup. She had been exploring his Opera House since she had arrived to work that first day last week. He had almost been caught on the roof two nights ago when he had thought everyone was gone. He had found the need for fresh air to be unbearable. He rarely felt this way and when he did he found no reason to deny himself what he wanted. That was why he had gone up there. He had not expected anyone to come up there, let alone a girl who did not even live in the dormitories.
The same girl he had seen after the reopening of the Opera Populaire three weeks previous. The undesirable effect of having another trespass on his time alone made him angry. He had had enough of this strange girl who so often intruded in his space. These thoughts seemed to be conveyed in his face for Madame Giry stood up straighter. "She is a good girl. She does not know about you." Madame Giry said defensively.
"Was she here tonight?" He asked, brushing aside the comment defending the intruder.
"Yes, with her family."
"Whose family?"
"With Delphine's family and her own." Madame Giry said. She watched Erik's face go dark. "I only tell you because you told me to." She said as if she were afraid of his anger.
"I understand, and my anger is not directed at you." He said absentmindedly. He began to pull at his leather gloves. "I think I will go to the roof until these people leave my domain." He said. Madame Giry nodded and watched him stalk away.
She hoped he would not do anything to reckless. She knew he was thinking about the possibility of Christine still being the building. She was. Madame Giry knew that much. In fact, Madame Giry knew exactly where. She was not going to follow the Phantom to tell him that though.
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Delphine
Delphine and Christine walked about the hallways of the dressing rooms. "You did very well." Christine said. "You're brother was very proud."
"I bet he was." Delphine said. She was almost content. Except that she had the urge to run to the roof. It was rather stuffy in the corridor. It was amazing how whenever she least expected it she got a dizzy spell that sent nausea swirling through her body.
She was beginning to worry about that. What if something was dreadfully wrong with her. She pushed this thought out of her mind as she and Christine turned a corner. They paused as they saw to people huddled close to each other. It became apparent that they were kissing. Christine smiled, some nostalgic dream rising to the forefront of her mind.
Delphine felt another sickly spell pass over her. She did not like to watch couples who were in love. She could handle Christine and Raoul. That seemed like it had been forever. She would not dare object to Raoul's little signs of love toward his wife, no matter how much she felt sickened by it.
"Come, lets go down this way." Christine said as she steered her friend away.
"Can we go to the rood?" Delphine suddenly asked. Christine jerked her head to look at her.
"Are you all right, you look awfully pale?"
"No, I am fine. I just need some fresh air."
Christine nodded and began to lead the way to the roof.
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Once there, she and Delphine took in the cool spring breeze. She smiled as she remembered the good things that had happened to her in the Opera House. "This is where Raoul and I first kissed." Christine said as she looked about her. "I can't believe how it feels like the same place." She said.
Delphine said nothing. She knew better than to intrude on Christine's past. She did not talk about it much. Especially about the Opera House. "I come up here sometimes, to get away." Delphine said.
"Why?"
"I'm not sure." Delphine said as she looked at the statue of a horse. "Sometimes it just feels to me like the world down there is closing in on me. There can be to many eyes when there really are none. Sometimes I just need fresh air."
"You need fresh air a lot these days." Christine said in a serious tone. She had seriously begun contemplating bringing her friend to the doctor's. She had seen the dizzy spells that took hold of her. Christine had once experienced those same things. She wanted to ask her friend, but knew it was a touchy subject. It was still too soon to speak of Robert.
"All month, really." She said. "I just go so dizzy and…" She trailed off. Christine bit her lip and looked at her friend. She took the younger girl's hand.
"Delphine?"
"Yes."
"I know you might think I am intruding, but I think I need to know. How far did you go with Robert?"
"What?" Delphine asked as her face turned a hue of red. She stumbled backward and turned her head embarrassed.
"Did you two…" She trailed off, unsure of what she was supposed to say to her. She had no idea of how she was supposed to bring this up to a girl who had not had this conversation with her own mother.
Delphine brought her hand to her forehead. "What if we did go that far?" She asked. "I'm not saying we did." She added quickly.
"Than I would know why you are always getting dizzy spells."
"Why?" Delphine asked with curiosity that made her seem more innocent than she really was.
"If you did…and I'm not saying you did…than you would be with child." Christine said. She studied the girl's face. There was no emotion displayed. Sometimes she hated it. It was so hard to read her when she put such a mask on. She was a master of that. She could hide her emotion so well. The only time she had ever seen her display any sadness or anger or loneliness was when she played her music. That was when she let herself go.
"Well than you don't know why I am getting dizzy." Delphine said with confidence. Christine sighed relief and turned away. She missed the pained look on Delphine's face. She missed the terror in her eyes. Before she turned back around, Delphine had masked it again. The stood staring at each other when Raoul's voice drifted to them. "Christine? Henri is crying. I think he wants to go home."
"Just a minute." She called back. She kissed Delphine's cheek. "You were really good tonight." She said. She walked toward the door. "I'll see you tomorrow right?" Delphine nodded. Christine disappeared back into the building, leaving Delphine up on the roof to ponder her fate. She moved toward the rail and looked down at the streets far below.
For a brief second she had wondered what it would be like to jump. Than she threw the idea away. Discarded it with the others she left piled up in her mind, just in case she needed them.
"How can I be so alone when I am surrounded by so many people?" She asked herself. She threw her head back and let out a laugh. "My fate, father was right. Solitude for to long makes it so hard to go back."
She was not talking about since Robert had left her. No, her true solitude had started when she had left music. Her one connection to the world. Now she had to struggle in a pool that was trying to thrust her down. She was trying to overcome her weakness, the desire to drop her music and run into the safety of a marriage.
Without realizing she had begun to hum Angel of Music. Sighing she turned around and looked at the rooftop. "Angel of Music, you've betrayed me." She said to herself. Closing her eyes, her hands strayed to her new problem. As she stood there with her hands on her stomach the sound of a heavy cloak brought her out of her contemplation. Her eyes flew open and she came face to face with a man wearing half a mask. Stumbling, she reached out to clutch something only meeting air. As she began to fall backwards, the rail so dangerously close, she found a firm hand on her arm.
The strange man had caught her. Screwing her eyes shut, she prayed that when she opened them it would be a stagehand. Slowly she peeled them open. The man stared at her with no expression in his face. He did not say a word. He pulled her up and handed her an envelope. She stared down at it. The off-white envelope contained an odd red wax seal she had never before seen. As she brought her head back up to ask what it was for she found herself alone on the rooftop.
She shook her head to both sides. There was no one there. The letter was real. It was real to her touch. So the man must have been real. She assured herself she was not losing her mind.
Taking a deep breath, she started for the door that would lead her back into the Opera Populaire.
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Author's Note: Thanks for reading another chapter of The Mistress of Song. This one is definitely longer than the last one, but that is partly due to my inability to stop writing. I know it might seems as if Delphine has suddenly lost her depression, but she hasn't. Her attitude towards lovers and her sadness at the thought of her own lost lover should make that clear. Also, all the references so far to the mask she can put on to hide her emotions.
The Phantom/ Erik has finally entered. I really struggled to find a way to connect him to Delphine without making it seem really horrible.
Also as a side note, I made some references to Angel of Music, which I do not own. The next few chapters will be containing song lyrics, because is it really Erik without song?
Until next time.