Disclaimer: I tried to lure the Phantom out of his home and into mine, but he's refused…so far...
AN: Wow, I love reviewers, they so totally rock! A big general shout-out to those who reviewed! Anyway, here is chapter two. I'm afraid the Phantom doesn't really show up a lot until chapter four, so please don't hate me! He's there a little bit for now, but will appear in great amounts as the story moves forward. Happy reading!
Chapter 2: A Whole New Life:
Their first glance at the Opera Populaire was that of great awe. Well, it was awe for Marie; for Christine, it was a rather frightening sight, and she tightly held her sister's hand in a death-grip as the two approached the large structure.
The building was made up of a rather dull rock, but it was tremendous, going up and into the heavens, the angels decorating the exterior seeming to hold it up and carry it on wings of elegantly crafted stone. There were huge pillars and stunning statues of muses and gods from the mythology books that Marie now carried in her luggage. It was an impressive sight, and the colorful banners that hung from between the pillars and statues gave it a touch of blazing color
Feeling the tight grip on her hand, Marie looked down at her sister. Christine's eyes were wide with fright, and the older girl carefully pried her hand loose and wrapped it around the younger girl's shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. Christine looked up at her, a small wisp of a smile pulling at her lips before fading into nothing. Marie gave her an encouraging smile before once again focusing on keeping up with the ballet mistress walking in front of them.
As they approached the front steps of the Opera House, Christine quickly snuggled into her sister's side, trying to hide from the strangers that turned to look at them as Madame Giry led the Daae sisters through the halls of the large structure. Walking through the numerous passageways, Marie saw dancers, singers, stagehands, and every other sort of person needed to put on a successful opera. She saw beautifully painted backgrounds, costumes constructed of glimmering fabrics, and a thousand different crafted props that were just waiting to be used.
The squeeze of an arm around her waist suggested that perhaps Christine was not as impressed with the sights as her sister was, so Marie stopped paying attention to the beauty around her and focused on comforting her younger sister. Christine gave her a thankful look before hugging her once more.
A few moments later, the two were ushered towards a small wing of rooms that seemed to be set aside only for Madame Giry's use. It was a suite of rooms, actually, and Marie couldn't help but wonder who could possibly need so much space. The first two doors on the right, Madame explained, was her own room and the bathing room attached to it, just in case the two girls needed her. Meg's room was at the end hallway of the small wing, on the opposite side of Madame's bathing room.
"The room next to Meg's is the sitting room where she and I go after rehearsals," Madame explained as she led them to the two doors on the left. "These shall be your rooms. Meg and I share a bathing room, but there is one down another hallway the two of you alone shall share. Someone will bring your luggage shortly, so you are free to choose where you will sleep and explore them a bit." She smiled kindly at the two girls. "I hope that the two of you will be very comfortable here."
Marie could only nod her head before escorting Christine into one of the rooms. It was actually two small, simply decorated rooms. This room was a sort of relaxation room that held three overly stuffed chairs with blue cushions around a broad, oval table that was obviously supposed to be used as a serving table for tea or even a small dinner or snack. There were two small decorative tables with blue-and-silver vases in the far corners, giving the room a simple, but elegant, air. There was a door on the left, which the two sisters went through to explore what it was exactly.
It was a small bedroom with a bed on the far wall directly opposite the doorway, simple sheets of white and blue covering it. On the right of the door there was a dressing table made of dark wood with a mirror set on it, and a matching armless chair in front of it. There was a desk on the right-hand wall, and a large dresser on the left wall. It all seemed a bit much for a little girl to have, but Marie found it to be comfortable, and wished to have this set of rooms as her own. However, if Christine saw the other rooms and wanted this set, she had no trouble with surrendering it to her younger sister.
The two then turned to the set of rooms that stood next door, the closest to the hallway of the Opera House. This one was laid out as a mirror image of the neighboring room, set out exactly the same way but with a golden-brown as the color theme. Christine's eyes lit up at the pretty room, and Marie knew that she was to get the set of rooms that she wanted.
After the luggage had been brought in from the train station, and when the last piece of clothing had been stored away, Meg Giry entered Marie's sitting room in an attempt to offer a tour of the Opera House. Marie quickly agreed, and the two Daae sisters were soon being given all sorts of information about the Populaire and its history. Only half listening to Meg's pleasant (but constant) chatter, Marie did her best to get Christine to come out of the shell that she seemed to have built around herself.
Finally, as Meg babbled on and on, Christine seemed to find the ability to open up and ask a few questions about decorations, the stage, and the costumes. Meg answered all of their questions, adding on bits and pieces of information that, in Marie's mind, didn't really have anything to do with that she had been asked, but might be useful later on. Still, the tiny blond girl was friendly and energetic, and Christine seemed to like her a great deal, so Marie put up with it, if only for her sister's sake.
The tour ended at the Opera House's chapel, a rather dusty and run-down place that had a large, colorful stained glass window on the far left wall. Marie looked around it carefully as Meg explained that the reason it was far less looked after was that few of the people in the Opera House took the place (as well as their personal religion) seriously. In Marie's mind, it was rather sad, but the chapel would likely serve her well in her little plan to help Christine through this difficult time in their lives.
Reaching into her dress pocket, Marie removed a portrait of their father and placed it on the wall, by the candles that could be lit in remembrance of departed loved ones. Madame Giry had discovered the photo among her father's belongings, and felt that he would have wanted his daughters to have it. Christine watched her sister with loving eyes as Marie lit a candle and whispered a few comforting words to her father's spirit in Heaven. With that done, the three young girls left the chapel and headed back to their rooms for a good night's rest.
From a space hidden above the small chapel, a shadow watched the little girls depart. The blond, Meg Giry, was of no consequence; he had seen her before and thought her to be too much of a chatterbox. The other two, however, caught his interest. From the rumors going about the Opera House, the two were apparently orphaned sisters, the daughters of a dear friend of Madame Giry's, which was why the ballet mistress had left in such a sudden rush over a month before.
Curiously, the two girls didn't look much alike. Both had brown hair, but the youngest had curls while the elder had straight locks. The older girl must have been five years older, her solemn eyes like chocolate and her skin appearing to have a faint golden tinge. Meanwhile, the younger had wide gray-blue orbs and glowing pale skin, nothing at all like that of her 'older sister.' Judging from the close bond the two shared, the eldest had to have been adopted and had helped raise the younger girl.
'Interesting,' he thought, shifting to another spot to see what the eldest girl had put along the wall. There stood a portrait of a man, right behind the candles of remembrance. 'They must have the intent of returning here frequently to remember their dead father. Better and better.'
With a swish of his cape, the Phantom of the Opera disappeared into the depths of the Opera House.
The next morning, after a good breakfast of croissants, butter, jam, and milk that Meg had brought them, Marie took her sister to find out what she and Christine would be doing for work here in the Opera Populaire. She knew that everyone did something to earn their keep: the dancers danced, the painters painted, etc, but what two little girls could do was beyond her, so she decided to press the question to Madame Giry before the woman left to teach the petite corps de ballet.
Meg was conveniently on her way to the dancers' practice rooms, so Marie followed her. Christine trailed behind, her eyes glancing around at everything as her older sister led her. It was a fairly long walk, but both girls enjoyed watching all of the different people going about their tasks as she walked behind the tiny blond dancer.
Before she knew it, Meg had led Marie into the practice room and left her on her own as the blond took her spot on the floor. As she turned around to search for Madame, she bumped directly into the woman she was looking for. Madame Giry looked down at her with kind, but impatient, eyes, but said nothing; she clearly expected Marie to address her first.
Marie gave a small curtsey before speaking. "I was wondering what you had in mind for me and my sister, Madame," she said in a polite voice. Her father had always told her to respect her elders.
Madame merely smiled. "I would like for Christine to become part of the ballet, if you wouldn't mind," she answered, looking at the seven-year-old. "However, Marie, I'm afraid you would be far too old to join. There is a certain age limit where lessons in dancing would do you no good, and I'm afraid that you have passed it." There was a sad look in Madame's face, but Marie only smiled.
"That's alright," she said, a grin spreading across her face. "I'm very clumsy anyway, and I would not want to embarrass your dancers by joining."
Madame gave her a startled look before letting out a small laugh. "Well, then, I suppose that I will have to ask that you become my little assistant, then," she said, giving Marie a fond smile. "You will help make sure that the little dancers are properly dressed and positioned, for they are not as well-learned in dancing as the older groups I teach. Also, you will run whatever errands that I, or anyone else at the Populaire, send you on. I will also send you to assist the costume mistresses whenever the time for a performance draws near, for they are always in need of help. Would that suit you?"
Marie smiled. "That would suit me very well, Madame."
And so began life for the Daae girls at the Opera Populaire. Christine was fitted for several dance outfits to practice in, as well as shoes to dance in for both classes and performances (though it was doubtful that she would ever be ready in time for the more recent operas). She was not very graceful at first, but Madame believed that she would still be at least a fair dancer, and would not embarrass the Populaire in any way.
Marie worked hard as Madame Giry's assistant with the littler dancers, learning exactly what poses and positions the ballet mistress expected from her performers and helping to put the girls into them. It was a bit difficult, since Marie didn't know how to dance them herself, but she had a good eye and she put it to good use in setting the leg, arm, foot, and head positions.
To the amazement of the managers, Marie's gentle, but firm, touch forced the girls to do their best, and caused the petite corps de ballet to learn their moves faster than they ever had before. Although the little dancers were only used when children were needed in scenes, they were in training to someday replace the older dancers when the ballerinas retired or left the Opera House. With Marie helping, they were learning to be the best they could possibly be.
However, helping the dancers was only a small part of the day. Madame Giry had several other groups to teach, and they were much more advanced than the one Marie helped, so she'd been obliged to find other work to do. Marie was, to say the least, sadly lacking in any sort of artistic talents. She could not paint, except for the basic things like pushing paint around until it covered the desired surface. Her father had not had the chance to teach her how to play an instrument, and there was no one in the Opera House who was willing to do it, either. And her singing…well, it was best that she just didn't do it.
In the end, Marie's main duty was to help with the construction of the opera costumes. She didn't mind that, since she absolutely loved the elaborate stitching, designs, and beauty of the existing outfits that she had seen, and watching the clothing be put together was an absolute delight for her. The costume mistresses were more than happy to have her join them, even though Marie couldn't really sew that well as of yet. However, with the amount of practice they gave her, she was soon happily situated and seemed to have found her calling in the Opera House.
The months passed quickly for Marie and Christine. Although Madame Giry did her best to look after them as much as she did her own daughter, there just weren't enough hours in the day for her to do so. Instead, Marie happily once again slipped into the rolls of both mother and sister for Christine, and so it was often Marie who found out the troubles and worries of her sister before anyone else did. At night, it was Marie who found her way into Christine's room whenever the younger girl called out for her during her nightmares, and it was Marie who tucked her in, told her stories, and delivered cold water whenever her sister was thirsty in the middle of the night.
All this she bore willingly, despite how irritating it could be after a certain time, but did it she did. It was her promise to both her Mama and her Papa that drove her, the promise to always look after her little sister and set a good example for Christine to follow. It was a very great responsibility, as well as a heavy one, but it gave Marie great pleasure to be the first person her sister confided in and the first she went to in order to get advice. Besides, if Marie couldn't answer something or was having difficulty dealing with one of Christine's problems, she could always appeal to Madame Giry.
One such troubling incident occurred after the Daaes' third month at the Opera House. Christine, though still somewhat unhappy with their move to Paris, was doing well in her dances, and Marie was fitting in well with the costume mistresses. Life had settled into a somewhat comfortable situation for them both. Just as Marie felt that Christine was beginning to get past their father's death, the little girl announced something rather disturbing just as Marie was about to send her off to bed.
The two sisters had a nightly ritual of gathering in Marie's room for some warm milk before going to sleep. On this particular night, Christine, who had been unusually excited and full of energy, had finished her milk before her sister and was fidgeting in her chair. Marie was just finishing the last bit of milk in her mug when Christine opened her mouth.
"Marie, the Angel of Music visited me today in the chapel!" she cried, bouncing in her chair.
Marie's hand froze in midair, the cup of milk halfway to her lips. Fearing that she just might drop it, she set it down on the table and looked at her sister.
"What did you say?" she asked, slowly, as though she hadn't heard correctly.
"I said the Angel of Music visited me today in the chapel, just as I was lighting a candle for Papa!" Christine said, a happy smile on her face. "Papa had said that he would come and visit me, and he did! The Angel told me to not be sad, because he would always be here to take care of me!"
Marie began to nibble on her bottom lip, something she did whenever she was deep in thought or upset. Tonight, she was both. Could there actually be an Angel looking after her sister, or was Christine imagining the whole thing? She was sure that, if there was an Angel sent down by their father, it would have visited her, too…wouldn't it? After all, Papa had loved her, too, so why did Christine suddenly hear Angels and not Marie?
'Well, Christine can't be mad, or else this would have started immediately after Papa died,' Marie quickly reasoned within her head. 'This must be her imagination. Her imagination must be her way of getting through Papa's death. After all, there must be some other children who need Angels more than Christine or I do. Yes, that must be it.' Marie looked up and smiled at her sister. 'I suppose I might as well go along with it, if only to humor Christine.'
"That's wonderful, Chrissie!" she exclaimed. "I'm sure that the Angel will be able to help you and be with you whenever you need him. But let us keep this between us, hmm? After all, I think it sounds like something that should only be kept in the family, don't you?"
Christine only smiled before leaping out of her chair and kissing her sister goodnight. As the last stray curl of her hair disappeared out the door, Marie could only think about what she had gotten herself into with this piece of make-believe.
The next morning, Marie kept to herself, thinking about the previous night. She felt so guilty helping her sister with this fantasy, but there was no way for her to get out of it. In her mind, she knew that if she destroyed this illusion for Christine, it would only break the little girl's heart, shattering it beyond repair. There was no possible way she was going to do that to her beloved sister, and so she must keep her mouth shut and go on with her life, pretending along with Christine that the Angel of Music was real and that he was, in fact, helping Christine through this difficult time.
Marie had wanted to keep herself busy and her mind away from all thoughts of Christine's angel, but it was impossible. The latest opera was to be performed tonight, so there was nothing to be done. The costumes were ready, the dancers were ready, everything was ready for the performance, and there was nothing for the little ballet assistant and costume helper to do that evening. She wasn't really interested in opera in the first place, so she thought that she might as well go and check up on the petite corps de ballet.
The little dancers would not be in tonight's opera, and had been ordered to remain in their dormitory for the night; they could talk, laugh, or do whatever they pleased, as long as they remained in the dormitory. Christine was part of that group, but Marie was considered old enough to be allowed to wander the Opera House as she pleased. So, after having a nice dinner alone in her room, she walked over to the dancers' quarters for some company.
As Marie quietly slipped in through the door, she was surprised to find Meg and Christine in a far corner, whispering and giggling a few other girls who sat in a circle, doing one another's hair in braids and elaborate twists. Happy that Christine had found a few friends among the other dancers, Marie began going through the room, smiling at those she considered friends and nodding to those that she wasn't so sure about. She caught the edges of conversations that did not interest her, mostly about clothes and hair, but one small group, led by the little Sorelli, caught and held her attention. The girl was Christine's age, but was tiny, with pale blond hair and sharp blue eyes. It was said that she was the greatest talent in the petite corps de ballet, and that Madame Giry had high hopes for her.
"I heard the older dancers talk about the ghost that haunts the Opera House!" Sorelli whispered in a frightened voice. "They say that he can walk through walls, causing trouble as he goes. The Ghost is always in black so that he may not be seen until it is too late, when he is right behind you so that he may do some sort of harm to those who displease him!"
Marie rolled her eyes, but kept silent. There was a ghost in the Opera House? She highly doubted it, but she enjoyed a good story as much as the next person, so she kept silent and listened to what was being said about the so-called Opera Ghost.
"They say that he has eyes that burn like fire, and that he knows everything that goes on within these walls," Sorelli went on, keeping the attention of her audience. "Even the managers are afraid of him, so they pay him a great deal of money to try and prevent him from causing mischief during rehearsals and performances!"
"Why would a ghost need money?" Marie asked before she could stop herself.
Sorelli snorted, sounding as if Marie's question had been the stupidest thing she had ever heard. "He doesn't," she said. "But I heard the older dancers say that he practically orders the managers to pay him, in order to keep them in line."
"Well, what does the Ghost look like?" the older girl challenged. Considering that she was at least five years older than the girls, Marie assumed that, at age twelve, she knew better than they did.
"None know for sure, for he is able to bend and control the light and shadows around him," Sorelli whispered, as though the Ghost could hear her. "He also wears a mask over his face so that none can see the terror that is beneath, unless he wishes them to die from fear."
Marie had heard enough and turned to leave. Instead of staying in the dorms with Christine, she headed towards her room. Madame Giry would take Christine to her own bedroom without any trouble, so there was one less thing to worry about. Besides, spending more time listening about another spirit would have driven her mad.
"I do not believe in ghosts," she stated to the emptiness of her room. "Angels are all well and good, but to believe in ghosts is silly." Quickly changing into her nightgown, Marie opened up a book and settled down to read, her eyes eventually drifting shut from exhaustion.
Quietly sneaking though the secret doorway, he glided up to the little girl's side, thinking of how charming she looked when she was asleep. Carefully pulling her book from her hands, he marked her page before setting it aside and sliding the covers up to her chin. Gently patting her on the head, he whispered a 'goodnight and pleasant dreams' before slipping back though the hidden door and heading for his home beneath the Opera House.
AN: I know, I know, not a lot of Erik so far, but at least I put him in there for a little bit! He'll show up more as the story progresses, because it wouldn't be a Phantom story without him! Please review and let me know how this story is going…I'm dying to know!
