Disclaimer: As much as I tried to trap/kidnap/lure Erik to my house, he remains uncatchable, and therefore does not belong to me…yet…
AN: I would like to thank everyone who reviewed so for their support! As promised, much more Erik in this chapter, and some lovely stuff that us Phantom fans can only dream of. For the record, I've seen pictures of the bed, and it does not look like a swan; it looks like a phoenix in flight, or something as mythical, so that's what I'm going to put down as the bed's shape. Enjoy the chapter!
Chapter 5: A Lair of Darkness and Thought:
Marie yawned as she watched Christine finish brushing her hair in front of her small mirror. Their nightly tradition of warm milk before bed was completed, but Marie was too content to go to sleep just yet. Instead, she watched as Christine's curls bounced back into place after each brush stroke, the warm, healthy shine of the brown locks causing her mouth to quirk in a smile.
'I wish my hair were like hers,' Marie thought, biting back a sigh of envy. 'Mine merely lies there and doesn't do anything.'
Turning her thoughts aside from her sister's hair and faint humming, Marie's mind focused on the man she had met only two hours earlier. He had to have been the one playing the role of the Opera Ghost, she was sure. The white mask, the dark clothing, and the silent way he moved practically screamed that he was, indeed, the legendary Ghost. She doubted that the mask was merely a part of the role he played, but was, in fact, a part of his very being. Marie had seen that his face was distorted beneath the white material, and had concluded that the "Ghost" was merely a man who was exploiting the Opera House's managers and patrons for his own profit.
'But how did he end up here in the first place?' she thought, frowning slightly.
That was another thing to consider: where had this physically distorted man come from, and how had he come to live at the Opera House? He also had to have found a way to walk through the building without getting caught, considering the rumored existence of trapdoors and movable sections of wall. Perhaps these doorways were of his handiwork? After all, he knew them well enough, and since no one else had the nerve to use them, the hidden doorways must have been of his creation. There must be a fascinating and fantastic tale behind him, and she would very much like to be able to hear it.
'Personally, I think it's a good thing that I never believed in the dancers' stories about him,' she thought, biting back a small chuckle. 'Silly girls; if I could get them to accept the truth, we could all enjoy a good laugh as we watch the managers shake in their shoes whenever they receive a note from him!'
"Marie, could you tie this ribbon for me?" Christine's soft, pleading voice broke through her sister's thoughts in an attempt to get her attention.
Marie immediately jerked back to the present and went to help her sister get ready for bed.
Retreating to his home beneath the Opera Populaire, the Phantom could just barely register that he had reached his destination. His mind was in a fog over what had happened to him in Box 5, and it was as though he were moving through the secret passageways in a trance.
Had a young woman just given him a gift? Granted, it was only a small bag of sweets, but it was a gift, nonetheless. Never before had he received something that was so freely and so kindly given to him. Madame Giry gave him things when she felt obligated, and only then it was a kind of bribery for him to stay away from her daughter and the Daae sisters. But Marie had given him something of her own free will, a gesture that she sealed with a soft, kind smile and a look of sympathy in her eyes.
'I will never understand that girl,' he thought, shaking his head.
It was then that the Phantom realized that he had reached his secret underground home. Pulling off his cloak and tossing it aside, he went towards his bedchamber, where he set aside the small gift bag of candy and removed the rest of his formal clothing. Once he was in a loose white shirt, black pants and his black vest with silver stitching, he once again took up the small bag and made his way over to his organ, taking his usual seat while mindlessly staring at the keys as he clutched the small object in his hand. He usually played when he was thinking, but tonight, music did not call to him.
Instead, his mind was filled with the image of Marie Daae, her hand extended towards him and the bag of candy in her palm. The same bag he now set in front of him, a puzzle that seemed intent on mocking him as it rested on the ivory keys of his prized instrument. The wrapping was a sort of netting formed from light and dark blue threads that shimmered in the flickering lights of his candles. A wide blue ribbon trimmed with silver embroidery closed the top of the small package. It was quite pretty, and from what he could recollect from his spying on the ballet rats, blue was her favorite color.
But what could possess a young woman who had never met him, who had never believed in his existence, to want to give him a gift? It was nothing special, a mere bag of candy from a girl's birthday party, but still…
'It's the first party favor that's ever been given to me,' he thought, staring at the small bag that was now all the more precious.
He wanted nothing more than to tear open the pretty blue wrapping and devour the delicious treats within, but that would be a quick end to the treasured gift. But to let it spoil would be a travesty, too. Gah, the girl was driving him mad without even being in the same room with him!
An idea caused him to jerk straight up in his seat, a slow grin spreading across his lips. Leaping from his seat, the Phantom raced towards the tunnel leading to the Opera House, pulling his cloak over his shoulders as he disappeared into the darkness.
Sleep did not come easily to Marie that night. Her dreams were filled with the tall, dark, haunting image of the Opera Ghost, his gold-flecked green eyes staring at her from behind the stark, eerie white mask that covered something that she, for some reason, longed to see. She tried to wake up, but the vision would not leave her; her mind stubbornly forbade her from leaving the realm of dreams, and so she was forced to spend her time running away from an illusion that was all in her head.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Marie could feel arms slipping under her and lifting her up into a comforting embrace, carrying her someplace that was colder than her bed. The smell of moisture filled her nose, and in her mind she found herself near a lake of dark water with the faint light of the moon shining down on it. It was a rather unusual dream, and she wasn't sure that she liked it very much. The world was so dark and lonely where she was, and she began to struggle, very much wanting to wake up.
From a place far away, a soft, beautiful male voice softly whispered into her ear.
"It is alright, petite," he said. "Sleep. I will protect you."
Sighing, Marie fell into more pleasant dreams, ones filled with the lovely voice she had just heard.
It had been quite late when the Opera Ghost entered Marie Daae's room; he had wanted to be sure that he took her while she was lost in sleep and would not wake when he lifted her from her bed. Perhaps kidnapping her from her room was not the most brilliant idea, but he lacked any other way to speak to her in private, away from the prying eyes of the ballet rats and employees of his Opera House.
As he had hovered next to her bed, the Phantom had looked down at her, seeing that her face was so innocent when asleep. Marie had a way of being very adult and responsible, wearing the heaviness of her burdens physically and causing her to appear older than she actually was. He hadn't wanted to shake her awake and ruin her well-deserved rest, so instead, he had bent over and swept her up into his arms. She was not a heavy thing, and he easily carried her weight.
As he transported her through the dark passageways of the Populaire, he looked down when he heard a slight change in her breathing. On a closer look, he saw that her face showed faint traces of bewilderment, as though she did not understand when she was dreaming of. He smiled faintly; it was amusing to see the one puzzle in his life have something trouble her in return.
Suddenly, he felt her begin to stir. The last thing he needed was for her to awaken before they reached his lair; he did not want her to scream and attract attention so close to the surface near the inhabitants of the Opera House! Holding her close, he did the only thing that came to mind: he spoke to her, manipulating his voice so that it seemed to blend in with her dreams.
"It is alright, petite," he whispered into her ear. "Sleep. I will protect you." She gave a soft sigh and relaxed, her hands drifting up to cling to him.
He stiffened, his hands involuntarily holding her close to his body. Her previous kindness and present unconscious affection was pulling at his frame of mind. All his life he had wanted someone to understand and be gentle towards him. Then, when it finally took place, it was in the unexpected form of an attractive young girl handing sweets to him while awake and clinging to him while asleep! He didn't know whether to count this as a blessing or a curse!
'She is driving me to the edge of sanity,' he again thought, gritting his teeth as he walked into his home. 'And she will soon find out her mistake in her affection when she awakens!'
Carrying her to the carved, bird-shaped bed, the Phantom laid Marie down upon the red velvet covers and drew the curtain over her so that the candlelight from the next room would not disturb her. Giving her one last glance, he turned and left to try and ease his thoughts.
It was still dark when Marie awoke the next morning, which did not make any sense. The room should have gradually been filled with candlelight, since Madame Giry was usually very good about waking her up. And since she felt well-rested, it had to be morning.
'So why is it still so dark?' she thought, opening her eyes slightly as she nuzzled her nose deep into the soft bedsheets.
But since when did her sheets smell different from the normal smell of sandalwood, the usual scent used by the washerwomen of the Opera House? Instead, the sheets had the heavy scent of roses, her favorite flower. Also, they were softer than the cotton sheets she usually slept on; these felt like velvet of some sort, and there was no possible way that Madame Giry or the costume mistresses would let anyone use velvet for anything other than the costumes!
The sound of organ music reached her ears, causing her to sit straight up in the bed. Looking around, Marie saw that she was definitely not in her bedroom anymore. She was in an intricately carved bed that resembled a bird in flight, and there was a soft veil-like curtain surrounding the bed. Unless Madame Giry had ordered someone to move her room underground, into a cave with very little light, and decorated it differently, she was no longer in her room next to Christine's.
'So where am I? And who is playing that music?' she thought, slightly panicked at the thought of being kidnapped from her room.
Carefully raising the curtain and slipping out of bed, Marie discovered that despite her being in a cave, the floor was covered in a beautifully colored soft carpet. The walls in the bedroom held only enough candles to see by, but she was still able to discover the doorway to the outer rooms. As she walked, she noticed that the light at the end of the short hallway was becoming brighter and brighter, the source of the light coming from dozens of candles that were secured in incredibly elegant candelabras. Marie stepped into the outer room.
Her breath stopped within her throat. There was a lake…a beautiful glassy lake that glistened as though by both sunlight and moonlight…the candles made the water dance and reflect towards the ceiling, creating the illusion that the entire place was built underwater. There was a boat, a gondola, if she was right, carved of elegant black wood and bobbing as waves moved it by some unseen force.
Curious brown eyes moved around the room. Candles seemed to sprout from everywhere, and there was another mysterious source of light that seemed to come from heaven, right behind the largest organ that Marie had ever seen in her life. Even the organ pit up by the orchestra wasn't this grand! There had to be at least three-dozen pipes with which to create music with! Oh, the music that its owner could make with it!
And speaking of the owner of this underground realm…
He sat before his instrument, gloved hands caressing the keys and playing the lovely music that had roused Marie from her (or rather, his) bed. He had black hair that was slicked back combed into an elegant hairstyle. His white shirt was simple and loose underneath a black vest, both of which blended well with the black pants and boots he wore. Even from the back he was striking, and she could only imagine what he looked like face-to-face.
Quietly walking forward, Marie stopped a few feet behind her mysterious abductor and listened. The music appeared to be something to sooth the listener, but was not a lullaby. It seemed to have been created to calm someone and keep them from being afraid, as well as to sooth the musician's soul as he performed. Was he playing it to keep her from being frightened? What sort of man did that after kidnapping a young girl (nearly a woman) from her room in the middle of the night? This was just getting more and more confusing for Marie, and she was not sure she could hold onto her sanity. At that point, she knew that if she did not confront her abductor now, she probably never would.
She reached out with her hand and touched his shoulder, startling him and stopping the song in an abrupt gaggle of notes that, under different circumstances, would have been amusing to hear. The man turned around, and she was astonished to see that her abductor was the Opera Ghost himself.
And for once, he was completely unmasked…
He had been unable to sleep after putting the elder Mademoiselle Daae in the bed shaped like a phoenix-in-flight. If he had thought that the absence of her presence made him uneasy, merely having her in the next room was soon driving him to mad! To ease his mind and spirit, the Opera Ghost had set aside his formal coat and cloak, pulled off his mask, and had begun to play something to sooth his soul and his whirling mind. In a few moments, he was lost within the realm of music and the world it could create around him.
A hand on his shoulder broke him from his trance. Whirling around in his seat, the curious brown eyes of Marie Daae bore into his. Her gaze moved to the right side of his face, and he remembered that his mask now lay on a table…on the other side of the room! Gasping, he covered the twisted part of his face as he tried to leap from his bench, trying to get up, trying to run away from the young girl in front of him so that he did not frighten her as he had so many others before.
The soft hand on his left shoulder stopped his movements, the other going to his right hand. The Phantom looked up from his seat and looked deep into her eyes. There he saw that her deep chocolate gaze held no fear, no hate or malice, but instead held an innocent curiosity that he had only ever seen in very young children. Her quiet gaze calmed his rapid pulse and ragged breath as he waited for her reaction to his face. Marie's touch gently pulled away his hand so that she would be able to better peek at the curse that was his face. He closed his eyes and waited for the screams to begin.
Marie had seen his panic the moment she had set eyes on his face…his twisted face that had skin hanging in loose, discolored patches from his cheek. The skin around his right eye was swollen and an irritated red color, and the right half of his nose was slightly bumpy where it should have been smooth. The deformity went up into his forehead, but ended just before his hairline.
She saw his eyes fill with tears as his hand snapped up to cover his face, "protecting" her from its ugliness and protecting him from the expected fear and disgust. His green orbs drifted towards the opposite side of the room, where she assumed he had left his mask after putting her in his bed. A stab of pity shot through her heart as she imagined what this poor man had gone through in his life, all because of a slight difference in his face. No wonder he feared her seeing him as he naturally was; the thought of another person being terrified and fleeing from him must have been heartbreaking.
'But other than the difference on the right side, the left certainly is handsome!' Marie thought as she caught a brief glimpse of the other side.
The legendary Opera Ghost was in possession of a face that, had he been born "normal," would have had many men frowning in jealousy and many women falling at his feet. A strong jaw, luscious lips, and a chin with a slight clef in it…all of it combined with thick dark hair and incredible green eyes that sparkled with a dusting of gold made him a pleasure to look at even with a mask!
'It's a pity that he doesn't see himself that way,' she thought, the pity in her nearly overflowing within her heart.
How long has it been since someone touched him in a gentle way? She couldn't help but wonder if he had ever been touched in an affectionate manner. Reaching up, she gently put her hand on his arm and opened up his entire face to her eyes.
He was shocked and amazed to feel soft fingertips grazing his skin, gently exploring the rough, irritated red skin that he had borne since birth. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried to savor each and every moment, every second, of this amazing experience. He tried to brand this moment into his memory so that he would be able to recall it even after she had turned and fled in terror of him.
Her touch was soft and sweet, the skin of her fingers smooth and delicate as they coasted up to caress a side of him that had rarely known an affectionate touch. As it coasted over the parchment-like skin, they left a feeling of warmth that he could not recall ever feeling before. The back of her hand now made its way up to his forehead, brushing back a lock of his hair before her fingers began to comb it back. It felt like heaven, and he hoped that she never stopped what she was doing.
After a few moments, he opened his eyes and gazed down into hers. There was no trace of fear in her gaze, only that of pity and understanding. He could see how she was imagining the terrible things he must have experienced in his life due to his face, and he could see that she wanted to apologize to him on behalf of the world, to ask his forgiveness for what it had done to him.
But she did not have that power, and the two of them knew that. Instead, she gave him a kind smile and asked a question no one had asked of him in over twenty years.
"What is your name?" Marie whispered, keeping her voice quiet so that she would not anger or disturb him.She knew that he had to know her name, as it was said that the Ghost knew everything that went on within the Opera House, no matter how hard a person tried to keep things secret. He had to have known that she and Christine had come here over four years ago, and therefore had to have known their names, as well. Since she could not, would not, call him the Phantom of the Opera or the Opera Ghost, Marie desperately wanted to know the name of the man who played music so beautifully.
The man known as the Opera Ghost looked a little surprised and slightly ashamed. "No one has asked me that for quite some time," he softly replied, his voice a bit louder than her own hushed one.
"Does it bother you that I asked?" she questioned, a bit worried at the thought of angering him in any way. "I mean, I am sure that you know who I am, as well as everything about me and my life, but I have yet to know anything about you, beyond that of tales told by the ballerinas."
A smile briefly tugged at the corners of his lips until he realized that she had amused him. He appeared to be trying to fight it, but soon gave up. The corners of his lips quirked into a lovely little smile which only made her grin in return.
"You have a lovely smile," Marie blurt out before she could stop herself.
He blushed. "Thank you," he said, looking a bit surprised at the compliment.
"But you still have not told me your name," she said, as though chiding him. "I cannot be friends with someone if I do not know their name."
"You want to be my friend?" he said, inhaling sharply. She nodded. The Ghost stared at her for a moment before taking a deep breath, seeming to trying to gather his courage to tell her what she wanted to know.
"My name," he paused, reaching out and taking her hands in his, "is Erik."
AN: Yay, they finally met! I have to admit that it's always been a fantasy of mine to be abducted by Erik in the middle of the night, so this chapter was fantastically fun for me to write. Let me know how you liked the chapter by reviewing!
