Disclaimer: All things tied to the musical/book Phantom of the Opera are (regretfully) not mine.
AN: It's Masquerade time! I love this scene so much that I'm going to make it longer than normal so that I can fit everything in. I can only hope that I do the scene justice! Also, for a better idea of Marie's costume, it's the same glorious white gown in the movie Ever After, staring Drew Barrymore. If you've never seen it, e-mail me and I can point you in the right direction, or you can Google the movie and find pictures of it for yourself. Enjoy the chapter!
Chapter 14: Masquerade!
'I swear that if I spend another day in this house, I will go mad,' Marie thought to herself as she lay on her bed, glaring at the ceiling.
Christine was out with Raoul, seeing the sights of Paris as only a young woman in love could. She had asked Marie to join her, but the older girl knew that she would only be in the way. Instead, Marie has simply smiled and shooed the two lovers out the door. Now she truly wished that she had gone.
"At least I would be out of the house," she muttered to herself.
Well, she could always go shopping for an outfit for the annual New Year's Masquerade in two weeks, but she knew it would be a hopeless cause. Most, if not all, of the costumes in Paris had already been purchased weeks ago; anything left would merely be an inferior copy of something already sold, or something drab that would cause the wearer to be the center of public teasing. No, shopping was out of the question.
'Besides, Christine has a costume already. In fact, both she and Raoul had ordered it for her so that they would compliment on another at the Ball!'
It had been rather depressing for Marie to learn that Christine had done such a shopping trip without her. A month ago, Raoul had offered to buy costumes for both of the young Daae sisters, which had caused the both of them to squeal in delight. Marie had then begun planning a day for both her and Christine to go look for outfits, but before she could propose a date for them to shop, Christine and Raoul had walked into the house with giant smiles on their faces. They had immediately told her that they had just purchased their costumes for the Masquerade, a disappointing blow to Marie's expectant heart. She had so wanted to do something fun with her sister, but now that would never happen. Never before had the two girls shopped for such splendid outfits for any event; it would have been the first time both of them had ever gone to the Masquerade, and now Marie would have to miss attending it because she had no costume.
'I believe that I just won't go,' she thought, nodding to herself. 'Yes, I think I'll just stay home. Lots of girls will be going with escorts, and I would look like a complete fool if I were to go alone.' Marie frowned. 'Well, there might be some men who will go alone, but then, there are probably reasons why they are alone in the first place.'
It would indeed look foolish to go to the Masquerade alone, especially when a girl's younger sister is attending with a handsome young suitor of her own. The last thing that Marie wanted was to be the laughingstock of the Ball, and she refused to let herself be the end of every joke in the Populaire once the event was over. It would be best if she merely stayed home and read a good book. Besides, from all of the stories that she heard from Madame Giry, all of the Masquerades were the same, from the dances to the music. Apparently she was not going to be missing much by not attending.
'In what possible way could this one be different from its predecessors?' Marie thought to herself, closing her eyes for a quick nap.
Letting out a groan of frustration, Erik leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He had been working relentlessly on his plan for the Masquerade next week, and there was still much to be done. The work he had ordered was supposedly almost finished, but he wanted it done tonight so that he could be sure that part of his plan was ready. Meanwhile, the key part of his idea was in his lap, the deep red color of the fabric resembling a pool of blood.
He laughed to himself. 'This should catch everyone's attention,' he thought, grinning wickedly. 'Every year those fools from above show up in black, white, or gold. Heaven forbid that they show up in any other color! Perhaps they are colorblind…'
From his hidden passageways and ceiling views of the ballroom, Erik had witnessed many Masquerades, but never attended. Even though the unmasking was at midnight, many people tended to be a tad too curious about the masks others were wearing, and wanted to closely inspect the elaborate designs on the masks of their friends or dance partners. Thus, Erik had always observed, never daring to participate in case he encountered such a curious dance partner.
This year would be different. Now Erik had something to lose in the coming of the New Year. He would risk everything to get what he wanted, and what he wanted came in the form of a young woman with brown hair and an angelic smile, as well as a heavenly, delicious presence.
"I cannot lose that," he growled. "I will not lose that!"
With that, Erik returned to putting the last stitches on his costume for the Ball.
"Isn't it lovely?" Christine said, her voice soft and slightly breathless as she twirled around.
"It most certainly is," Marie replied as she watched her sister play 'dress-up' with her Masquerade costume.
It might have been Marie's hatred of the horrible pale pink color that took all of the enthusiasm out of watching her sister dress herself for the evening's event. Although, in her opinion, Christine would have looked much better in a pale blue gown than a fluffy pink one. But as long as she was happy, Marie decided to put aside her distaste and help her sister prepare for the evening. Motioning towards the large vanity, Marie watched her sister carefully sit down so as not to ruin the expensive materials she wore."I truly wish that you were going, Marie," Christine said, moving her head around towards her sister as Marie began to pin back numerous curls of her hair.
"Stop fidgeting, Christine!" Marie gently scolded her, grasping her sister's head and positioning it so that she could manage it. "Let me work! Honestly, the last thing you need is for your hair to flop into your face while you dance!"
Christine let out a small giggle, but quickly sobered. "But why aren't you going?" she pressed, staring at her sister through their reflections in the vanity mirror. "I'm sure that Raoul could easily find you a costume for you to wear in one of the shops."
Marie sighed as she pinned up another brown curl. "The stores won't be open at this hour on New Year's Eve, much less have decent costumes," she said before adjusting a bobby pin with her teeth so that it would hold Christine's hair better. "And don't you worry about me; I've missed plenty of Masquerades before, so it won't bother me now."
The brown hair in front of her turned around once more. "But I want you to go," Christine whispered, a pleading tone in her voice. "It doesn't seem right for me to attend and you to stay here all alone."
The older girl sighed again as she turned her sister's head towards the vanity. "I won't be alone, silly girl," she teased, sticking another hairpin into place. "The servants will be here, and I doubt that you'll be thinking of me when you are dancing with Raoul."
Taking her eyes off of the mass of hair in front of her, Marie looked at the mirror and smiled as Christine blushed and looked down at her lap. As the last stray curl was carefully put into place, a small, cool rush of jealousy shot through Marie's heart. Her sister looked absolutely sweet and charming in her pink gown. A pink silk rose was attached to her right hip, and the whole thing was covered in an airy pink lace that seemed to float around her like a cloud.
"There, all finished." Marie gave her sister's shoulders a gentle pat and handed her the gold chain that she had taken off earlier. A lovely, sparkling ring hung from it, catching the light. "Don't forget to wear this. After all, Raoul braved a great deal of nervousness to ask for my blessing so that he could propose to you."
Christine smiled and stood up. "Are you sure you don't want to go?" she pleaded.
Before Marie could say anything, a bell rang, signaling the arrival of a visitor. Curious, the two young women went downstairs, arriving just as the housekeeper was walking towards the stairs with a large package in her arms.
"It's for you, Mademoiselle Marie," the elderly woman said.
Rushing forward, Marie looked surprised as two large packages were pushed into her arms. Glancing at the address, she was shocked to see her name there in a neat, somewhat familiar scrawl.
"What is it?" Christine asked, leaning forward as they rushed into the parlor room.
"I…I don't know." Puzzled, Marie tore past wrapping of the smaller wooden box, and gasped.
A glorious silvery-white gown glistened up at her. It was simply the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life, and likely the most expensive as well. Taking it out of the box, Marie shook it out to get a better look at it.
The dress appeared to be made with two layers, the underskirt made of an almost glowing white material that resembled silk. The overlaying skirt consisted of so many pearls and silver stitched designs that Marie felt pity for the person who had constructed such a work of art. Flowery motifs in silver thread, tiny seed pearls, and tiny feathers were elegantly and masterfully fastened to the bodice. Hanging down from the glistening bodice fell two oversheets of shimmering silver silk that looked as though it were made from water. The sleeves held a combination of the water-like silver material, gold silk, gold thread designs, larger pearls, and silver thread.
"Oh, Marie!" Christine gasped. "It's absolutely…"
"Perfect," Marie whispered, pressing it against her body. Without even thinking about it, Marie rushed up the stairs to her room in order to put the dress on, Christine and the housekeeper only a step behind her, the remains of the first package (and the unopened second one) in their arms.
Lacing up the front of the corset, the dress fit perfectly, almost as though it were made for her. The material of the underskirt slid wonderfully over her skin, like a gentle caress or the touch of a warm, spring rain. As she emerged from behind the changing screen, Marie saw that there was even more to her costume than merely the dress. A pair of white wings edged in thin silver wire would slip carefully into the back of the bodice. Quickly, the housekeeper put the wings in place, the white netting and silver wire materials that created it so light that Marie could barely feel they were there.
Turning around, Marie allowed the housekeeper to powder her face, apply make up, and pull her hair back into a braided halo-like crown on the top of her head. Once that was finished, she saw Christine approach her, a small white mask edged in gold paint and seed pearls in her hands. Placing the mask on her face, Marie threw her head back and laughed, fully ready for the evening's events.
"Dear God, the Lord has sent an angel to my home!" came a familiar male voice from the door.
"No, just me," Marie replied to Raoul's stunned face. "And if we do not hurry, we will be late to the Ball."
Nodding in spite of his shock, the Vicompt offered his arms to both sisters, feeling extremely honored to have two beautiful women to escort to the Masquerade that night.
Never had Marie seen the Populaire look so alive and festive. She had seen it on countless opening nights where opera patrons had come in their splendid garb, but never had she seen such elegance or such a magnificent spectacle of costumes, masks, and beauty. It was, in short, breathtaking.
Raoul and Christine had entered through a side door, but Marie was forced to appear through the front, due to her wings. Much activity had stopped upon her appearance, and she was sure her cheeks had turned a deep crimson from all of the attention. However, since no one knew who she was, Marie was free to smile and curtsy to the crowd using all of the grace that she possessed. The partygoers had applauded her for a rather long moment before returning to their previous endeavors.
Looking around the room, Marie tried to guess what everyone else was. Satyrs, sultans, queen of hearts, beasts; there was even a woman dressed as a life-sized doll. The contrasts of black, white, silver, gold, and pale blues all swirled together in a majestic festival of gaiety that was positively giddying to the senses. It was then that she felt a drink might settle her mind a little.
As she approached the beverage table, Marie spotted Madame Giry and Meg off to the side. Quickly fetching herself a drink of champagne, Marie had walked over and surprised them both by smiling and congratulating Meg on her rather revealing white outfit. The young blond had squinted her eyes to try and guess who this Angel was, and straightened in surprise at the familiar voice.
"My goodness, Marie, you look sensational!" Meg gasped, reaching out to touch the delicate silks and precious materials. "Wherever did you get that?"
"It was delivered to Vicompt's home an hour ago," Marie replied, smiling like an excited child. "I don't know who sent it, but I would not put it past Raoul to purchase such a thing."
"And spend more on you than he would on his Christine?" Madame Giry said in disbelief. "I highly doubt that!"
"Perhaps he was trying to bribe you into approving his courtship of Christine," Meg guessed, a white-gloved hand still stroking the hem of Marie's gown.
A suspicious look had then settled over the ballet mistress's face, her eyes going cold and calculating as she studied the gown and wings her eldest foster daughter wore. The look Madame had in her eyes rather frightened Marie, and she shifted uncomfortably under the older woman's gaze. Finally, the moment passed, though Madame never lost the look of suspicion the remainder of the time she spoke with Marie.
Now, however, Marie stood beside her sister and future brother-in-law, watching the crowd sing and dance to the traditional Masquerade song they performed at each Bal Masque. How she wished to join them, but the white wings she wore would not allow such a thing. Instead, Marie watched as silver fans were produced, and she giggling in amusement as even Madame Giry joined in on the festivities. It was a glorious spectacle.
Then, a sudden cold wind blew through the hall, extinguishing many candles and casting shadows into a place that had once held golden light. The figures stopped dancing, the song halting in mid-sentence as a few partygoers gasped from the top of the stairway grand entrance. And a grand entrance it was, for there at the top of the marble steps stood the Red Death itself…and Marie knew who it was behind the mask.
The Phantom of the Opera descended on the crowd, clearing a path before and after him. Clad in red velvet with gold embroidery, black leather knee-high boots, and a trailing cape of red silk, the entire ensemble gave him an air of elegance that toppled what the other men here had tried to achieve. A disturbingly real Death's mask covered his face from mouth to hair, the skin around his eyes painted black to intimidate all he gazed upon. All this combined with a skull-headed sword on a black leather belt assured that he was breathtakingly handsome…and frightening. Marie could feel the fear, nervousness, and awe in the air as all eyes focused on the tall man in red, standing on the last step of the white marble stairway. Marie's breathing became shallow as his eyes scanned the crowd, seemingly searching for something…or someone…
"Why so silent good Monsieurs?" asked Erik in song. "Did you think that I had left you for good?" He snorted. "Have you missed me, good monsieurs? I have written you an opera! Here I bring the finished score: Don Juan Triumphant!"
Marie watched as a black leather folder was dropped onto the floor the moment Erik unsheathed his sword. 'My God, he looks magnificent!' she thought, wishing that he would think the same of her.
"Fondest greetings to you all!" he sang sarcastically, casting a wary but stern glance around the silent room. "A few instructions just before rehearsal starts: Carlotta must be taught to act, not her normal trick of strutting around the stage!" The Diva looked insulted as he ruffled the feathers of her turban that she wore with his sword. When Piangi stepped forward to defend his beloved costar, the Phantom turned his weapon on him. "And our Don Juan must lose some weight. It's not healthy in a man of Piangi's age."
Monsieurs Andre and Firmin then became the focus on the Ghost's displeasure. The sword came within inches of each of their noses. "And my managers must learn that their place is in an office, not the arts!"
Intense green eyes suddenly landed on Marie and Christine, who had reached out and grabbed her older sister's hand in fear. Raoul had fled, likely to retrieve a sword so that he may defend the two sisters from the awe-inspiring man before them.
"As for our star, Miss Christine Daaé...No doubt she'll do her best. It's true her voice is good. She knows, though, should she wish to excel she has much still to learn. If pride will let her return to me, her teacher, her teacher..."
The Phantom's words faded off as his eyes suddenly descended on Marie. His breathing seemed to become unusually labored as he took in the sight of two elegantly dressed young women standing next to one another, huddled together under his gaze. Then, his masked face turned to rage as he saw the Vicompt approach, a sword in hand, prepared to defend the two Daae sisters. Reaching out, the Phantom snatched the necklace from Christine's neck, breaking the chain as his hand pulled away the precious diamond engagement ring.
"Your chains are still mine! You belong to me!" the Phantom roared, the dark holes of his mask focused on the two girls.
Without warning, a whirlwind of flame burst from the ground, encompassing the red-clad Ghost as he vanished from sight. Marie gave a cry of worry as she rushed towards the spot he had just stood, praying that he had not hurt himself in this stunt. There she saw a perfect square in the marble floor, one of the many trapdoors within the building telling his means of escape. Raoul flew by her and down through the opening, the entrance snapping shut even as Christine cried out her fiancé's name.
There was a brief hush in the ballroom as the party attendees began to fully realize what had just happened. The bells of the clocks striking midnight were the only sound in the silence.
The foolish boy! How dare he play the gallant hero, griping his sword and following the Opera Ghost into his haven! At least they had both ended in the Hall of Mirrors; only a three people know how to get out of here, and Erik was one of them. Marie was the second, and she would likely be far too frightened and confused to come after the Vicompt. The other…
"Where are you, you monster?" cried the Vicompt, his weapon ready for attack.
Erik merely gave a dark chuckle and moved to appear behind the confused and angry nobleman. Sure enough, the Vicompt twirled around, but found nothing behind him but empty air. The Phantom laughed, enjoying this new game that the Vicompt had unknowingly thrown himself into. He continued this game of cat-and-mouse until a familiar arm reached out and snatched the young man out of the mirrored trap.
"Giry!" Erik quietly snapped to himself. The older woman always had to spoil his fun!
On the other hand, this little intervention of hers might just be a blessing in disguise. There was still a small matter he had yet to deal with, and she would not likely have left the ballroom without knowing the safety of the precious Vicompt.
Smirking, the Phantom swirled his red cape behind him and stalked down the dark corridor.
The Masquerade was over, but Marie and Christine remained behind, searching for Raoul and praying that he was alive and well. Madame Giry had mysteriously rushed from the room, but Marie was too busy comforting her trembling sister to go after her and discover what was going on. Instead, she turned Christine's attention back to the Bal Masque and it's conclusion. The managers had insisted on ending the party the traditional way, and everyone had removed their masks, much to the delight and relief of the people surrounding them.
Many young men had been amazed at seeing Marie Daae with her sister, and had been astonished to see how absolutely wonderful she looked in her costume. Several had offered their names, occupations, and connections in society to the young woman, who knew they were only doing so after seeing Christine on the arm of the Vicompt de Chagny. However, she was sure one or two of them were truly interested in her, a fact that actually made her blush. Tonight, Marie had felt as pretty as her sister, and before Erik's appearance, she felt like she was glowing from the feeling it gave her.
Now, though, there was no one left but Marie, Christine, the managers, and Meg Giry, all of them pacing the floor or fidgeting nervously around the room. Impatient with waiting, Marie excused herself and went to the power room to see if she looked as pale and ill as she felt. Arriving in the small room, Marie removed her mask and examined herself.
She was pale, but it was due to the shimmering glittery makeup that the housekeeper had applied as she was rushing out the door. Other than that, she looked perfectly fine; her hair was still bound up, not a hair out of place, and not a bit of her facial powder was smudged.
"I wish that I looked like this all the time," she said aloud, knowing that no one could hear her. "Erik looked impressed, but he was likely thinking of how lovely Christine was in her pink gown." Tears materialized in her eyes.
"I'm not sure how much more of this I can take," she said, looking at her face in the mirror. "He loves her, but I love him and can never have him! What have I to offer to Phantom of the Opera? He's an artistic genius, and Christine is a woman with the voice and face of an angel!"
Pulling out a handkerchief, Marie began to lightly dab away her tears before the ruined her makeup. Taking a deep breath, Marie made a choice that she had been considering for weeks.
"I will not stand by and watch the man I love try and woo my sister," she said, pulling her shoulders back "I will leave the Populaire and accept a position as a nursemaid to a family connected to the de Chagny's." Raoul had brought the offer to her weeks ago, hoping to get her away from the Opera House and it's Ghost. "I will become a nursemaid for their children and make a good living and name for myself. If Erik succeeds in winning her away from Raoul, he will wed Christine. If not…" Marie snorted in contempt. "Well, being the attractive man that he is, how can he not succeed?"
Turning around Marie walked out of the room, hoping that Raoul had returned, safe and sound.
Erik clutched his chest, sure that it was breaking. Christine had rushed to the side of her beloved Vicompt and kissed him repeatedly, practically crying at the thought of him being hurt. Not only that, but Marie was leaving the Populaire to become, of all things, a nursemaid for a nobleman's spoiled brats! The thought of all this happening so quickly disgusted him, twisting his heart and stomach into knots. Things were spinning too wildly out of his control, and he needed to do something.
Several ideas began to form, but only one in particular stayed focused in his mind. It was risky, but it would likely succeed better than all the others he had come up with. Christine and Marie would not likely forgive him, but then…it was easier to beg for forgiveness than it was to ask for permission…
AN: The story is coming to a close soon, people! Only a few more chapters and then this story is over! I've got some ideas for future fics, mostly Erik/OC, so stay tuned for more! Review!
