Disclaimer: As much as I wish I did, the Phantom does not belong to me…
AN: Here is chapter three! There's a bit more of our beloved Erik, but he's not really revealing himself just yet, so you'll have to wait for the fourth chapter, when things start to get very interesting! Happy reading, and please leave a review to let me know how I'm doing! Thanks!
Chapter 3: Life Moves Forward:
Talks about the Opera Ghost and Christine's Angel of Music did not cease once during the passage of time. In the years that she had been at the Opera House, not one day went by without her hearing about one thing about either one of the mysterious apparitions. Christine, of course, informed her sister about every single thing that happened whenever the Angel visited her, and the ballet rats always chattered some story or another about the Ghost and his tricks.
Normally, Marie was a great lover of the fantastic; she had several story books about fairies, witches, magic, and adventure that she absolutely loved to read before she fell asleep at night, and which kept her imagination going whenever there was a boring moment during her day. She believed in magic and such, but the fact that the Opera Ghost demanded money from the managers suggested that he was a man and not a ghost at all. After all, what did a ghost want with money, if he was indeed a spirit and had no need for possessions? No, he had to be a man that was merely focused on making life difficult by pulling pranks and destroying props whenever he was in a bad mood. Marie left it at that.
Christine's Angel of Music, however, was somewhat of a puzzle for Marie. It wasn't that she didn't believe in angels, it was more of the fact that she didn't believe in Christine's angel. In her mind, Marie pictured an angel coming to children or people who truly needed guidance and love. Christine had Marie, Madame Giry, Meg, and the other ballet dancers as her friends and family, so what need did she have of an Angel of Music when she was anything but needy in the way of love?
To make matters worse, Christine had, after their fifth month in the Opera House, begun to practice singing. Marie had heard her sister's voice piping though the door as she passed and had entered the room to find Christine practicing a few scales. Their father had never taught her to sing like this; they had thrown out their voices in song whenever they pleased, but nothing more than that. So how in the world had Christine been able to find the ability to practice musical scales? When Marie had managed to ask where she was obtaining her lessons, Christine's answer was rather disturbing.
"My Angel of Music comes to me and teaches me," came the innocent answer of a child.
It frightened Marie to no end, thinking that there might be someone posing as an Angel of Music and giving lessons to her sister, but what could she do? She could not keep an eye on Christine every moment of the day, and to keep her locked in her room would be inhumane. Besides, she had never seen Christine so happy after the passing of their father, and the last thing Marie wanted to do was upset her. Furthermore, Christine never seemed to be frightened of her "Angel", so there was nothing that could really justify Marie forbidding her from taking lessons.
After allowing the lessons to continue on for six more months, Marie discovered that Christine had a lovely voice, one that would never have emerged had it not been for this so-called Angel of Music. Such a voice could be developed and enhanced over time, and could even provide a good life here in the Opera House. Singing would also be a wonderful alternative to dancing, for while Christine had a certain grace about her, she tended to be slightly clumsy or nervous while onstage.
So Marie decided to go along with the illusions of her sister, if only to keep her happy. Christine never hid anything from the girl who was both mother and sister to her, and so it was only with Marie that she practiced what she had learned during her singing lessons. Marie had wanted the entire Opera House to know of her sister's talents, but Christine had been adamant that no one know about it except the two of them. The younger girl had claimed that her Angel had forbidden her to speak of him to anyone, but Christine had begged to be able to tell her beloved sister, the one person she loved most in life. The Angel had reluctantly agreed, but had forbidden anyone else from knowing. The fact that this "Angel" had allowed even one other person to know about his existence surprised Marie to no end, and so she thought that perhaps this individual might not be so bad after all.
And so life went on within the realms of the Opera House for Marie, who did her best to stay firmly grounded within a place that was home to both a Ghost and an Angel of Music.
"Shh!" Sorelli said to the other girls, who had been giggling behind the furniture of the back dressing room. "She's coming, and if you give us away, I'll be sure to tie your ballet ribbons into knots!"
The other girls stopped and clapped their hands over their mouths. Today was a very special day in the minds of the first and second classes of the petite corps de ballet, and they had been planning for this occasion for months. Any moment now their guest of honor would enter though the door of the dressing room, and all of their planning would have been worthwhile. They loved this girl, and would make this a birthday to remember.
Just as the last girl had ducked behind a chair, the door opened and in swept Marie Daae, her little sister practically dragging her into the room.
"Really, Christine, I don't see why you had to drag me practically into the back of the Opera House to show me something," Marie jokingly said. The girls could hear the smile in her voice. "Couldn't you have shown me this in your room, after I was finished with the costume mistresses?"
"No," Christine replied, a giggle in her voice.
"And why is that? Why did you have to bring me into the petite corps de ballet meeting room?"
"SURPRISE!" screamed two dozen girls as they appeared from behind various pieces of furniture. "HAPPY 14th BIRTHDAY, MARIE!"
Marie's eyes filled with tears as she looked around at the girls gathering around her, their hands filled with gifts, small bags of sweets, or glasses of punch. She watched as lanterns and candles were lit so that she could admire the decorating that they had done. The walls were covered in her favorite shades of blue, as were the six tables that were now laden with food and drink. The gifts remained in the hands of the givers, to be handed over when Marie was well situated.
Christine stood beside her older sister, a broad smile on her face as she led Marie to a table to sit down. As soon as Marie was firmly in her chair, everyone pulled up a chair to form a circle, passing around trays of bread and cheese, cookies, and the little cherry tarts that Marie was especially fond of. The girls eagerly attacked the food and punch, causing nearly every delicious crumb to disappear within minutes. Once everyone had had their fill, Meg, Sorelli and Christine gathered the dirty dishes (to later be sent down to the kitchens), and resumed their places so that the giving of presents could proceed.
Marie carefully unwrapped each gift, giving joyous little squeals of delight whenever she saw what lay beneath the paper. They were mostly small trinkets of hair ribbons, lengths of lace to sew onto her clothing, or an occasional coin or two to use to buy herself something the next time Madame Giry took them all to the market. She smiled at each girl and gave them a small peck on the cheek in thanks for the thoughtful gift, most of which had been things that she had longed to buy but had not the money or time to do so.
With the party officially over, several of the girls gathered the dirty dishes and carried them away as others remained behind to clean the floors and tables. The wall hangings would stay up, since it made the room look better to gather in whenever the dancers wanted to meet and trade stories; it was, after all, their own private social gathering place. If the older girls could have their own place to gossip, why couldn't the younger ones?
Meanwhile, Marie headed back to her room with her arms full of her precious birthday gifts, a broad smile on her face.
As Marie tucked away her numerous gifts into various locations in her room, she couldn't keep herself from laughing.
'So that was what the girls had been hiding for the past several months?' she thought to herself as she sat down on her bed.
It was no wonder they had immediately stopped their chattering whenever she appeared around the corner, fearful that she had heard them. At first, Marie had been hurt, thinking that they had been ready to spread some sort of rumor about her, but had quickly dismissed it after voicing the idea to Christine and Meg, who had been horrified at the idea, and had denied it quickly. Since those two could be relied on to relate spreading gossip better than anyone, Marie had been puzzled at the behavior of the dancers.
"I can't believe that they did all of this for me," she whispered aloud, glancing at the small pile of hair ribbons that she had been given today. Now she would have a ribbon for her hair that matched every dress she owned!
"Well, you should," said a female voice from the doorway.
"Madame Giry!" Marie cried, running to hug the older woman.
Madame returned the hug and released her to press a small box into the young girl's hands. "Happy Birthday, my dear one," she said, smiling as she watched Marie examine the wrapped parcel.
Carefully undoing the plain brown paper and opening the wooden box, Marie gasped. Inside was a broach to pin at the neck of her dress! The glossy porcelain had three roses of red, white, and pale yellow with green stems and leaves painted on it, and it was set in a yellow gold. It had to have been fairly expensive. But then, Madame always gave both her and Christine such nice gifts on their birthdays.
"Thank you so much! It is beautiful!" she said, immediately attaching the broach to the neck of her deep-green dress.
"You are welcome, petite," Madame Giry replied, smiling fondly at the girl. "After all, you are almost a young woman now, and are in need of the proper attire." Madame hugged her again before heading out towards the practice rooms.
Grinning, Marie raced out her door as well, going back to the costume mistresses, all of whom she strongly suspected of having conspired with the ballet rats, and therefore had some part in today's festivities.
From the shadows behind the hidden door in the elder Mademoiselle Daae's room, the Phantom watched as she left for her daily chores. He was slightly envious of the young girl, who, on the day of her 14th birthday, had more friends and almost-sisters than she cared to admit. The first two instruction levels of the corps de ballet adored the older girl, even though she was at least five or eight years older than them and could have easily dismissed them as children.
Over the years, Mademoiselle Marie Daae had the option of chatting with the older dancers who were her own age. She could have spent more time talking about more grown up things, like future marriage options, dresses, ribbons, and the latest fashions in Paris. However, she seemed to prefer trading fairy stories and giggling over nonsense-talk with the younger children, the ones about the same age of her little sister, Christine.
"Christine," he whispered, frowning.
Christine, the dear little girl with the large blue-gray eyes that were so innocent and trusting, the only person who was always too happy to hear his voice though the walls of the chapel where they met. He had wanted to instruct her in her rooms, but her sister was directly next-door, and he did not want to risk being caught by the older girl, which would be rather embarrassing and odd, in and of itself.
He growled. For some reason, Marie Daae perplexed him. She did not seem to be frightened of the stories that floated about the Opera House, the ones that had struck fear into the hearts of the managers, dancers, stagehands, and performers. They were all terrified of what could happen should he be displeased with the goings-on at the Populaire, but Marie did not seem to believe in him. In fact, she did not believe in either one of his popular guises as either the Ghost or the Angel of Music.
'But for some reason, she tolerates my being the Angel because it helps Christine.'
Why was that? He knew that she loved her sister, but would she be willing to humor Christine, just to keep her happy? It appeared so, for each time he watched the two girls talk within the confines of their rooms, he noticed the disbelief and tolerance in Marie's eyes. Her disbelief was for the Angel, and the tolerance…well, that sort of acceptance was obviously for the fact that this imaginary being was what was keeping Christine happy with her life here, besides Marie.
'Such a complicated thing for one so young,' he thought, a small smile tugging on his lips. 'But then, perhaps that is what I find so fascinating about her.'
Twirling towards the right, he decided to grace the elder Daae girl with his invisible presence for a little while longer. After all, it was her birthday…
Marie pouted as she left the costume rooms. She had been given the rest of the day off to do as she pleased, since today was her birthday and Madame Eleanor wouldn't hear of her staying to do more work. Marie didn't know Madame Eleanor's last name, and she sincerely doubted that anyone else knew it, either, since the middle-aged woman refused to give it to anyone.
But that was beside the point. At least she now had time to catch up with the ballet rats, who would be probably be gossiping about one thing or another, or telling stories. Making her way down the hall, Marie headed to the dormitories that the petite corps de ballet shared. First, though, she had to make her way past the dancers that were her age. That would be more of a challenge, since the last thing she needed was to get caught and forced to listen to them brag about their latest dress purchase.
Quietly, Marie tiptoed down the hallway, avoiding any dancer that she saw. It wasn't that she hated the older dancers; it was just that she didn't prefer their company most of the time. She would much rather spend time trading wild stories about the fairies and imps than to talk about dresses, marriage options, and the latest hat fashions that were now floating around Paris. It all sounded too stuffy for her taste, and the younger girls had much better senses of humor.
Slipping her way past the older girls, Marie found the purple door that she was searching for and slipped inside, where all of the younger girls were changing out of their practice outfits. Christine stood in a corner with Meg, who was helping her get a knot out of her shoes. Since Marie spent most of the day helping sew costumes, Christine had been obliged to join the other girls in the dormitory after practice, especially when Marie didn't like the idea of Christine being alone for very long. There were quite a few unsavory workers here in the Opera House, as she had found out from the older girls, and she had every intention of keeping Christine out of harm's way.
After helping a few girls get out of their outfits and helping them get into their normal clothes, the girls all scattered to different parts of the room. Her first week here, Marie had noticed that each gathering of girls was based on a certain topic of conversation. It was a fascinating notion, and an orderly one that people did not expect from the silly girls of the ballet. Marie rather liked it, and today she decided to see what sort of ridiculous stories were circulating about the so-called Opera Ghost.
In her years here, Marie had heard dozens of stories and theories about the Ghost that walked the Populaire's hallways, and had been amused at each and every one. Many were guesses at what he looked like and whether or not he could really walk through walls. Some called him the Trapdoor Lover, for some had reported seeing him vanish in front of them through a trapdoor way on various floors of the Opera House. Others said that they saw sections of wall opening and closing, only to go to the spot and find nothing there.
Marie merely laughed at the tales. Seeing didn't necessarily mean believing in her book, but in this case, it would really help. In her time here, she had never actually seen the reported Opera Ghost in any way, not even a shadow! She believed in restless spirits, and enjoyed reading stories about them, but she would like to see one, especially the Ghost. However, he acted more like a man, and therefore, a man he must be. Who else would demand money from the managers and leave notes?
'No ghost I've ever read about leaves notes written in an elegant hand in red ink,' she thought, remembering one bit of gossip that she had heard the older dancers talk about once while she had been fetching something for Madame Giry.
The whole thing was just silly, though the stories recently told sent a delicious chill up her spine. It was rather scary, and she liked it because it was interesting to hear. Later on, Marie would lie in her bed and use her imagination in order to frighten herself a little more using the tales about a Ghost that she herself had never seen in her two years here. Meg, Sorelli, and the other dancers had seen the Ghost, but for some reason, he remained out of Marie's sight. She always showed up after an appearance, and that disappointed her. Could he be avoiding her for some reason?
'That's silly,' she thought as Sorelli opened her mouth to tell more horrifying tales about the Ghost. 'Why would he be avoiding me, of all people? It's not as though I'm anyone to be frightened of! After all, I'm only 14-years-old, and no threat to anyone.' Shrugging, Marie turned her eyes towards Christine, who had taken a spot to her sister's right just so she could rest her head on Marie's shoulder.
In the back of her mind, Marie really shouldn't have been surprised that Meg and the others had managed to convince Christine that the Ghost was real. After all, Christine believed that an Angel of Music was teaching her to sing in secrecy! As romantic as it sounded, thinking that the Angel of Music was teaching Christine to sing, and as much as she wanted to believe it, Marie just didn't have the heart to do so. Angels were all well and good, but would they really come down to help someone who didn't really need divine help? Christine had her sister to love her, as well as Madame Giry, who was like an adoptive mother to the two of them. Meg was a sister to both of the Daae girls, and the other ballerinas were friends as well, so why did Christine cling to this childish illusion?
'Or perhaps I'm too grown up to have faith in anything like angels and ghosts,' she thought.
But if that was so, why did she so wholeheartedly believe in fairytale magic, like the ones in her books? She just didn't understand why she could believe in fairies and elves and yet was so hypocritical when it came to the Angel of Music and the Opera Ghost. It was just so complicated, and it made her head hurt.
Sighing, Marie decided to just accept both the Opera Ghost and the Angel of Music into her life since there was no way to get them out. She would just have to live with them.
From his secret perch behind the wall of the petite corps de ballet dormitory, the Phantom watched as little Sorelli told another story about him to a group of girls, a group that included both the older and younger Daae sisters. The stories both angered and pleased him; in anger, he watched as more people became more afraid of him and the things that he could possibly do to them as they moved about his Opera House. On the side of pleasure, the stories ensured that, should anyone receive a note or encounter him, they would be sure to do as he asked them to.
A closer look at the group's expressions told him that they were all completely falling for the tale, except, predictably, the elder Mademoiselle Daae. He already knew that Christine believed in the stories, which was rather ironic, in and of itself. She loved him as the Angel of Music, but feared him as the Opera Ghost. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the thought. The dear child that, for one brief part of the day, appeared to love and accept him also feared seeing him.
'Perhaps it would be best for her not to see me until she has complete faith in me,' he thought, glancing between the sisters. 'It would take much time, but it will happen, eventually.'
In the mean time, he would have to convince Marie Daae that both the Angel of Music and the Opera Ghost were indeed real, and not the product of the creative minds of others. It would take a great deal of planning, though, and he was not sure he would have the time to do it.
On the other hand…
Suddenly the candles and lamps in the dormitory flickered out, plunging the room into absolute darkness. Screams of "The Ghost!" filled the air as Marie shook her head and felt her way along the floor to the door, which she opened, allowing light to filter inside.
"It was only a breeze though the cracks in the wall," she calmly yelled though the screaming. "The lights in my own room go out like this all the time. It's nothing to be afraid of."
The other girls stopped screaming and looked at her, not believing her for one minute. Marie sighed. It was only a breeze! There was no such thing as the Opera Ghost!
Was there?
AN: Please review! Merci!
