Disclaimer: I tried to lure the Phantom out of his home and into mine, but he's refused…so far...
AN: Yes, I'm using a song title from another movie/musical, but I can't help it if it fits with the chapter! Also, things are going to start getting a tad bit conflicting between characters after the next few chapters. Please don't hate me, especially when conflict's what makes a story worth reading. Enjoy!
Chapter 6: Getting to Know You:
Marie felt relieved after hearing the Ghost's name. It made him seem more human and less like a greedy, mischievous man whose sole task was to embezzle money from the managers, frighten the staff, and play terrifying pranks on the ballet rats. She smiled at him as he released her hands and went to retrieve a chair for her so that they may talk.
As he did so, Marie took another look around the amazing room. The numerous candles gave an eerie, dreamlike ambiance to the cavern, and she found that she enjoyed it very much. A few short steps led her to one of the tables stationed on both sides of the organ, its contents showing her that Erik was an artist and/or a craftsman, and a talented one at that. A small model of the Opera's stage and its actors was set up, costumes and all, the tiny dolls amazingly lifelike and very charming.
'He could be a toy maker,' she thought, awed by the detailed display. 'I wish I could do something lovely like this.'
"Do you approve?" Erik's musical voice whispered past her ear, startling her. She whirled around, a hand pressed over her heart in surprise as she came nose-to-chest with him. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to startle you," he said, one hand reaching up to stroke her arm in apology.
Marie smiled at him. "It's alright," she said, turning back towards the model. "I was just admiring your work. It's beautiful, you know. You could make a fortune creating the most amazing toys or decorative miniatures in Paris, if you wanted to."
She turned around and saw surprise, delight, and pride within his green eyes. Something told her that Erik had never had a great deal of encouragement or praise in his life, and what she had just complimented about his work pleased him. A touch of red on his left cheek showed he was a little embarrassed, which Marie found rather endearing. She giggled.
"You're blushing," she gently teased him.
Erik straightened up. "I am not," he declared, turning around to better situate the chair he had brought for her.
Once the chair had been positioned slightly behind and to the right of the organ bench, Erik turned towards his guest. He offered her his hand, and felt a warm sensation when she accepted it. He regretted having put on his gloves, but felt that it would be improper for him to touch a young woman so soon into their acquaintance. He would just have to be patient.
After Marie was comfortably seated, Erik resumed his place in front of the organ and began to play some of the more cheerful tunes that he remembered, closing his eyes so as to lose himself in the music. He knew that he played through at least three songs before allowing the notes to gently fade to nothing, his attention drifting towards the young woman seated behind him. His head turned to get a better look at her and at her reaction to his music.
Marie's eyes were closed, a blissful expression on her face and a faint smile on her lips. She was leaning back in her chair, allowing the music to roll over her in waves as she lost herself to it. The contentment that settled on her features was one he had longed to bring to many an audience, but to see this one girl become so touched by his music caused something to stir in his chest. A rare feeling of pride and joy swelled within him as the last note faded into the darkness of the cavern. When it had vanished completely, Erik watched as Marie's eyes fluttered open and stared at him in awe.
"That was wonderful," she breathed, admiration and envy filling her voice. "I have never heard music like that before, and I have listened to every opera that has been played for the past four years!"
"That is because it is my own work," Erik replied, turning to face her fully from his bench.
"You write music?" she asked, surprised. "That's wonderful!"
"It is a hobby of mine," he said, hiding a smug look. "I wrote this piece several months ago, and until now, I have been the only one to have heard it."
Marie looked at him with puzzled eyes. "But why would you let me hear it?" she asked, clearly confused by the honor he had bestowed upon her. "I am no one special."
This time he did smile, openly and with amusement. Lately he had been smiling more than ever before in his life, and Erik couldn't help but wonder if it was perhaps due to the young woman sitting in front of him. Her brown eyes were so kind and open, her smile asking for others to trust her; it was no wonder that the ballet rats trusted her with their secrets and with their love. But he would not trust her yet, not until he was sure of her own feelings and trust towards him, first.
"When you were in my Box, I saw the look of longing on your face," he said, pulling his eyes away from Marie's, trying to focus on anything but her. "You longed to see and appreciate an opera from the audience's point of view instead of being placed far away from it and the magic that it could create. You, Marie, wanted to be part of it in one way instead of another."
Erik heard her sift back and forth in her chair. Perhaps she was uncomfortable with the fact that he had read her heart so well, that he had looked deep into her inner desires? Or perhaps because he had observed her during a private moment, one where she could let her emotions soar without someone interrupting her? He found himself glancing over at her to see what she might be feeling.
Marie's eyes had drifted towards a space between the floor and the organ, staring at it in intense concentration while seeming to avoid his gaze. Her hands were clasped together in her lap in a death-grip as she chewed her lip. He had seen her do that after she had received disturbing news, and believed that the habit was one that occurred when in deep thought or under extreme discomfort. He opened his mouth to apologize, sincerely hoping that he had not offended the first almost-friend that he had ever had in his life. Erik's apology was halted before it had even begun.
"I do love music," she confessed, a small smile on her lips as her eyes drifted up to look at his organ. "I love to watch the dancers practice their parts as they get ready for the newest opera performance. The orchestra and singers always practice whenever I'm in the back rooms with the costume mistresses, and I almost never get to hear the cast play out a full rehearsal." Her brown eyes turned to meet his green ones. "I'm honored to have been the first person to hear you work."
Her gentle hand reached out and touched his, giving it a tight, friendly squeeze. Before he could stop himself, Erik squeezed hers in return. A moment later, Erik realized what was happening and abruptly stood up. He had to stop this before he trusted her too much, before she could suddenly betray him.
"I should return you to your rooms," he blurted out, straightening out his shirt. "Someone might come looking to check on you in the middle of the night and find you missing. I should return you before someone worries about where you have disappeared to."
Marie nodded her agreement as she stood up as well. "Thank you, it's very kind of you," she said, giving him another warm smile. "Will I be able to visit you down here again?"
He blinked at her. "You want to come back?" he asked, thoroughly amazed at the mere thought of someone coming back down into his personal Hell of their own will, just to visit him.
Now it was her that looked surprised. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "It's beautiful down here," she said, looking around at their surroundings. "It is like you live in a dream."
Erik couldn't help but preen. In his mind, this was his nightmare, the darkness that hid him from the world. To her, this was a dream, a fantasy between wakefulness and sleep. If she wanted to return here, then he would allow it to be so; he had grown tired of the loneliness that had plagued his life for so long. But the secret passageways…to show, or not to show her …
'That is the question,' he thought, paraphrasing Shakespeare. 'Well, time enough to decide that.'
Pushing aside those thoughts, he offered his hand to Marie. "Come, I will return you," he said, giving her a small smirk. "It is nearly time for the ballet rats to awaken anyway."
Without another word, he led her towards the surface.
The journey back was silent, so Marie had plenty of time to look at her surroundings and try to engrave into her mind the path Erik was taking her through during this night.
She had no idea that such an intricate number of passageways existed beneath the Opera House! Her new friend was focused on one path, a gloved hand wrapped tightly around hers as he walked towards the surface, but as she turned her head to glance around, Marie noticed that several paths connected with the one they were currently taking. There were so many to choose from…if she were to find one on her own, how would she be able to find her way anywhere?
'Perhaps Erik could teach me,' she thought as she practically ran down the cavern to keep up with his fast pace. She mentally cursed her short stature and small legs…
The mere existence of so many passages shouldn't have surprised her. Considering the rumors that the Ghost (or, as she knew him now, Erik) used a number of trapdoors to sneak around the Populaire, she wouldn't be surprised to find that each corridor they passed led to every single room in the entire Opera House. It made her slightly uncomfortable, knowing that he could look in on her (or any of her friends or family) whenever he pleased and they would not know it.
"Erik?" He turned his head at the sound of her voice. "Have you ever…spied on me or my sister?"
Erik stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. He couldn't tell her that he had, in fact, watched her and Christine ever since they had first stepped into the Opera House. He also knew that Marie did not suspect him of being Christine's Angel of Music, for he had given her nothing to deduce that from. And yet, she had to know that everyone and everything within the Populaire was a concern for him.
For some reason, however, the Daae sisters caught and held his attention more than anyone else ever had; there was an innocence about the two of them, though Marie showed far more common sense and wisdom than Christine. But what attracted him the most to the two sisters was the close bond they shared, even though they were not even blood related. It was enchanting, watching a doting Marie sooth her little sister's fears and telling her stories at night. But observing them was a bittersweet thing, for Erik knew that he would likely never have that sort of affection in his life. In the mean time, he contented himself by watching Marie be an older sister to half of the ballet rats.
'To answer her question, yes, I have watched both her and her sister,' he thought, trying to formulate a way of explaining his situation to her.
But for the first time in his life, he actually felt guilty about it.
Marie watched as Erik took a deep breath, almost as though he were preparing himself for something. She waited a few moments as he composed himself and attempted to focus on an answer to her question. Finally, he turned to look her face-to-face.
"The well-being of all within my Opera House is my concern," he whispered as his eyes softened. "I would not call it spying, but merely looking after those who dwell within my kingdom." He grinned. "And to be sure that it is run to the best of the managers'…limited abilities."
Marie smiled at his small jest, but didn't quite believe his words. She knew he could have easily looked in on her or Christine whenever he pleased. Furthermore, she did not know this man very well, so who was to say that he wasn't as bad (or even worse) than Joseph Bouquet, the man who sometimes refused to accept a refusal from the older ballerinas?
"I never invade the private living quarters," Erik's firm voice broke into her thoughts. "There are passages there, but I rarely use them."
"As you used them to take me from my room," Marie blurted out before she could stop herself.
The gold in Erik's green eyes seemed to flair in anger before fading to a dull yellow in embarrassment. "I am sorry for stealing you away," he softly replied, dropping his gaze and turning it towards the cavern walls. "I needed to speak to you about something, and yet have not had the time to do so tonight." He turned to look back at her. "I apologize for disturbing you and your rest."
Marie tilted her head and really looked at him. "What did you want to speak to me about?"
Erik merely shook his head. "It is not important," he said, grasping her hand and turning around to lead her down the pathway once more.
She refused do move, stubbornly pulling him back so that she could have an answer. "It must have been important for you to take me from my room in the middle of the night," Marie said, somewhat exasperated with his actions and a bit cranky by her lack of sleep.
Erik took a deep breath as he reached over and swept her up in his arms to carry her. After a few moments, he stopped before a solid stone wall. "We will not discuss it when we are both lacking rest," he reasoned, turning to look at her as he pushed the section of wall open with his free hand. "We will speak later, once everyone has gone to bed. I will come for you after midnight."
With a swish of his cape, he set her on the floor in her room and shut the wall behind her. Meanwhile, Marie checked the clock on the wall and did her best to restrain herself from screaming in frustration as she went to get ready for the workday. Perhaps the costume mistresses could help distract her thoughts from the dark man that haunted the hallways of the Opera Populaire.
After leaving Marie in her room, Erik had quickly returned to his cavern home underneath the Opera House. He had tried to pass time by playing and composing his music, reading his books, and crafting more models, but all in vain. He could not concentrate on one thing more than a few minutes, and it was beginning to drive him insane. The home by the lake seemed too quiet and too dark after having a guest for the first time.
'I miss her.'
Those three words shocked him to no end. The girl had spent only a few hours there in sleep and a few more listening to his music, but for some reason, he could not bear to have his home without the familiar warmth of another person's presence. It was no wonder the little ballet rats rushed for Marie whenever they needed company after a nightmare, or comfort after they fell during practice; he had a strong feeling that Marie's nature of being kind, understanding, and a quiet listener was what attracted other people to her, primarily people who very much needed a friend.
And right now, he very much needed a friend.
'I know that girl is going to drive me mad,' Erik thought as he combed his fingers through his hair and reached for his cloak. 'Why else would I be heading back up to the Opera House so soon after leaving her in her room?'
He had changed into an all-black ensemble, where everything from his boots to his shirt was black; the only thing that was a different color was his mask. As a rule, Erik only wore this outfit to frighten the Opera workers: a white mask seeming to hover in darkness was always good for scaring. Today, however, he wanted to see if he could persuade Marie to leave her jobs early and accompany him down to his home. He didn't know why, but having her there made him feel…almost human.
Slipping through the secret passageways, he quickly assumed his role as the Phantom. It was in this role that he could succeed in being the silent, but terrifying, presence that the Opera managers and workers would obey. Also, by becoming the Phantom, Erik could put aside all feelings except a cold sense of determination, and focus on what he was here to do.
In a few moments, he was out of the secret caverns and gliding along the catwalks above the stage. The little ballerinas were to be onstage for the first time during this opera, and Madame Giry wanted them to practice there so that they would become accustomed to it. Presently, though, the little ones (all in their fluffy, purple costumes) are not dancing; instead, they were standing in a group around a taller individual that was most definitely not the ballet mistress; the formidable older woman was currently lecturing the prima ballerina about one thing or anther.
No, the person in charge of the little girls was Marie, and she appeared to be giving them some sort of encouragement. Erik watched as she smiled and patted each girl on the head as she spoke, almost as though her touch would be enough to get them through the performance. Before her fingers touched them, few of the girls looked excited or happy; instead, many looked frightened and/or nervous. A gentle, reassuring touch from Marie's hand onto their heads seems to calm the most terrified of dancers, and as Madame Giry heads towards them, the now-confident little ballerinas looked ready to dance their best.
As he watched them form two purple lines on either side of the stage, Erik noticed that Marie had moved backstage, probably so as not to distract the girls as they danced. He grinned, following her on silent feet as she went to watch the performance from a different, and less obvious, location. When he was sure she was alone, he slipped up to a space above her and let a note fall in front of her.
He heard her gasp and saw her glance around in an attempt to find the note's deliverer. Of course, she was unsuccessful in this, and after giving up, Marie bent down and picked up the small letter Erik had written before leaving his lair. She broke the skull-shaped wax seal and began to read.
Marie,
I humbly invite you to join me for tea this afternoon at three o'clock. I know the managers enjoy giving everyone a period of rest after full rehearsals, so I expect you to be in your room when I come for you.
Your Humble Servant,
O.G.
Marie sighed. She had received the note just before lunch, and had promptly lost her appetite after reading it. Instead, she had nibbled on some bread and helped the little ballerinas with their routine until half an hour before she was to meet Erik. Upon reaching her room, she had immediately combed her hair and straightened her dress, right before the clock on her dresser chimed a quarter to three.
Nervously pacing the room, Marie tried to think of what was in store for her when Erik (or possibly, his darker persona of the Ghost) came for her. What could he possibly want from her so soon after having her in his lair for half the night? She highly doubted that he was lonely for her company, especially when they hardly knew one another. But if that wasn't it, then what was it?
She didn't have long to ponder the different possibilities. A moment later, a breeze blew out the candles in the room, plunging her into darkness. Marie let out a terrified squeak before a hand clamped over her mouth, effectively silencing her as another arm reached around her waist, pulling her against a very tall, firm body. Out of instinct, she struggled, trying to get free of her captor.
"Shh, petite, it is I," whispered a familiar, musical voice. Marie instantly relaxed. "Come, let us go."
In mere moments, Marie found herself in the dark, cool caverns behind the Opera House's walls. Erik had lit a small candelabra which he held in his hand, lighting the way as he led her below to his home. As they moved, Marie began to try and engrave their path into her memory so that she might find her own way to his house whenever she wished.
They soon reached Erik's home, where he removed his cloak and tossed it aside on a chair as he led her to a room that smelled full of delicious things to eat and savor. Walking in, Marie was delighted to see a lavish afternoon tea set out on an elegantly carved mahogany table set for two. Warm and cold meats, fluffy pastries, various cheeses and breads were all laid out, and she could not prevent her stomach from growling. After all, she had missed lunch.
Erik gave her an amused look. "Care to join me?" he asked. "It would be a shame to waste all this." The broad smile she gave him was all the answer he needed.
Quickly leaving her side, he moved over to a chair and pulled it out for her, a smile on his lips.
AN: Tea with Erik…sounds like fun, huh? Well, please review and let me know what you thought!
