Chapter 15

Sasha looked one final time in the mirror, to check her hair and clothes for imperfections, she never was so picky about her looks, but she wanted to make sure she looked good for tonight. Her black hair was tied back in a bun, with the ribbon she had bought in town, and the pin placed neatly to the right side, only the patch of her hair that hid half of her face remained in it's usual position. Her dress was for the most part black, with the exception of the red rosed that were stitched into the corset, and the ribbon ties in the back of the dress. It had taken her almost half and hour to figure out how to tie herself up, without waking up her sleeping sister.

"Why, you actually look like a lady." She told herself, as she ran her hand down the side of her dress. When she was satisfied with her appearance, she picked up her cloak and a small golden box, then snuck down the hall. Her mother had already returned, and was fast asleep. All she had to worry about was the slim chance of Raoul coming home early from his night out with his 'friends'. He normally didn't come home to around sunrise, which gave her a rather large chunk of time before she had to return, although she doubted he would care if she wasn't home, he would probably be drunk anyway.

She tipped-toed out of the house, and into the dark, deserted Paris streets. The cold wind nipped at her face, and chilled her to the bone. She practicality ran through the streets to the opera house, Careful to avoid any people who might have been out. Even after she was inside the large building, she didn't slow her pace. She hurried as fast as her thin legs could carry her, down the winding staircase, over the ledge of the lake, and towards his door. She was shocked when she couldn't find it, she searched in the area it was supposed to be, but all she could see was the damp, cold stone. After several minutes, she gave up, and leaned her head against the stone. She was exhausted from not only running here, but it must have been past midnight, and all the excitement of the day was wearing her down. She contemplated why she couldn't find the door, but she couldn't come up with an answer.

"You've come back." Erik's gentle voice whispered in her ear, she turned to find his large figure standing only a couple inches from her. She jumped at his proximity, not of fright, but sheer surprise, she hadn't heard a sound but her own breath, how he was able to creep up on her, she couldn't understand. She regained her composer quickly.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" She questioned.

"Of course you would come back, I just didn't expect you here so soon." His voice flowed over her. It filled her body with a tingling sensation, as if she had had too much wine.

"Well I'm full of surprises." She responded, while a grin crept a crossed her face. Erik nodded, then lead her into his home.

She watched with bewilderment as he tripped a small lever on the floor flat up against the wall, just inches way from her she stood. Almost instantaneously the wall she leaned up against shifted back, she lept away from the wall in shock ,and landed on Erik. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her, and keep her from falling into the lake. He turned her around, and lead her into his home. She was surprised on how dramatically his home had changed, in only a few hours. The dusty, scattered sheets of music were stacked back up, and placed on the giant floor to ceiling book cases. The large Victorian Fireplace that separated the book cases had a blazing fire, that lit the large room with a golden glow. The light revealed an large assortment of instruments from a violin to a large pipe organ. The room was filled with a particularly large amount of furniture, for just one man. A large couch sat facing the organ, with a love seat on each side and a coffee table in the middle of the group. A lone large arm chair sat in the corner, It seemed to watch over the room with a strict eye. He motioned over to the seating.

Sasha removed her cloak, then took a seat on one of the red velvet love seats. He took the cloak from her arms, hung it up on the coat rack near the door, then returned to her, taking a seat on the love seat a crossed from her. They both sat their, in an uncomfortable manor, neither one sure what to do.

"I... I brought you some chocolates." Sasha said, as she handed a little golden box to him. He smiled and accepted it.

"I don't believe I have ever had chocolates, then again, I don't think I have ever had the company of a young lady."

"There is a first time for everything." She said cheerfully, "If it matters, I have never been received by a gentleman, only Raoul's friends." He found her statement to be rather amusing.

"And how do you know I'm a gentleman? You are quick to judge."

"I don't judge, Erik. It's just obvious by the way you carry yourself you are a gentleman. You walk lightly, but have a commanding stature, you speak softly, but with force. A true gentleman know how to be strong and fearless, and knows how to be tender and thoughtfully." Erik was caught off guard by her answer. She smiled when she saw the shock in his eyes.

"And were have you stolen your wisdom from? It far surpasses your age." She grinned triumphantly at the complement.

"And I have been shunned for it, mostly by Raoul." Erik couldn't help but laugh at Raoul's stupidity.

"That boy is as foolish as they come. Why, I would be proud to have such a child." He paused, not exactly sure were the conversation was leading.

"Boy?" She questioned, her mind contemplating his use of the word. "How old are you, Erik?" She felt a little strange calling her father by his first name, but calling him Pa would be disrespectful, not to mention unusual, seeing as she only just met him.

"Your mind works to quickly for your own good." He joked, "I'm old enough."

"But how old?" She questioned again.

"Your very curious, little one. Christine was the same way, but I have the feeling your far more stubborn than she was." He wasn't going to tell her, but he couldn't stand disappointing her. "I'm Fifty four, satisfied?" She quickly calculated the math in her mind.

"Twenty years older than Raoul, I can see why you call him a boy. but," She gave a queer look, "Your forty one years older than I am, that doesn't leave you many left." Her face looked worried with the thought of loosening him so soon.

"You have no need to worry little one. I don't plan on dieing any time soon, plus, he won't have me." He motioned up, referring to The Lord.

"And why is that?" She questioned, not understanding why he wouldn't be allowed into the gate of heaven.

"I have done somethings, many thing, that no lady should hear, especially not my..." He wasn't sure whether or not to mention the newly obvious discovery.

"Daughter." She finished, in a tender tone. Her focused her eye on his. "But, I know nothing about you, not even your surname." She whispered, he ran his hand through his black hair, "And you know nothing of me."

"Well, lets change that." He rose from his seat, "Wine? I expect this to take a while." She nodded, then he left the room, and returned with a tray holding two glasses and a bottle of red wine. He placed it down on the coffe table, and filled the two glasses.

"Were to start?" He asked her, as she picked up her glass and took a sip.

"Your childhood perhaps? You have so much more to share than I." He nodded than began to tell his story.

He told her about how he grew up in his mother's house, locked away in the attic, hidden from the world. His only affection coming from his mother's dog. He told about how he ran away from the house, after the dog was killed, and joined a traveling fair. He preformed for groups of people, entrancing them with his hypnotic voice. After he left the fair, he found himself the apprentice of a master mason, who polished his raw architecture skills. Someone he found his way to Persia, where he met is one and only friend, a man named Nadir Khan. After working in Persia for many years, he moved to Paris, and found a home beneath the Opera House.

He made sure to leave out all the murder he committed, and shield her from how shunned and hated he was but the world. He made special note to hide from her why he was hated, why he wore the mask. She knew he was telling her a watered down version, but she didn't care, she was learning about her father, her real father. After he had finished his tale, he allowed her to ask any questions. She took care not to inquire about what he had done, or why he hid himself.

"When did you meet mother?"

"I started teaching her how to sing when she was very young, when she first came to the Opera house. I would teach her with just my voice, echoing through the halls. She Didn't meet me till she was seventeen." She nodded, and asked nothing more from him. He was rather surprised she didn't ask about the mask, and was thankful for it. "And you, little one, what is your story?" He wanted to take the focus off of himself, she gladly excepted his need for a new subject.

Sasha started with being born in Paris, but quickly whisked away to London. Her mother taught her to read and write, despite Raoul's wishes, then to sing, in secret. She grew up hating the man she called father, he tried to suppress her, and make her more like him. She hadn't realize till now he didn't hate her, but hated Erik, and didn't what her to end up like him, despite their rather obvious similarities.

To most people, her life story would be boring, seeing how normal it was for a girl to be brought up to be someone's property, But Erik was interested with his daughter's tale, especially how her mind worked. She was just like him, and she didn't know it. She thinks just like him, cunning, deceiving, passionate, and hateful. When she was finished, she allowed the same questioning as he did.

"How well did your mother's singing lesson's help you?" He questioned.

"She did a fair job, but I am nothing compared to her."

"Will you sing with me?" He asked as he reached for her hand.

"If you wish me to, but I don't want you to laugh at how pathetic I am."

He rose from his seat, she followed his gesture. He lead her over to the organ, and took a seat on the bench.

"I promise I won't laugh. what song do you wish to sing?" He asked, as she took a seat next to him, she weaved her arm into his, and racked her brain for a song.

"I don't know any duets, but there is a song, Mother used to sing us to sleep with when Raoul was out, she said she learned it from her angel."

"And what song would that be?"

"Mother never said what it's name was, but," She cleared her throat, than sang the first few lines.

Nighttime sharpens

heightens each sensation

darkness stirs and wakes imagination

"Music of the night." He spoke to himself, and he began to play the song on the organ "It's a rather hard song, but a great one."

They sang the song with perfect harmony, his tenor with her soprano gave the song a haunting beauty as it flooded his home. It almost sounded like it was written just from them, their voices hit each note perfectly, with skill and emotion. When they finished, Sasha rose from the bench, but Erik did not move.

"Your very modest, for you voice is superb, but I expected nothing less, Christine lives for music, it's her soul, no doubt she would share it with you."

"I would have rather learned from my father." She spoke under her breath, but Erik caught ever word. He sighed, than began to play another song.

Sasha returned to the love seat, and listened his music. The music Erik played soared around the room, engulfing her in the sweet, intoxication sound. She had never heard anything like it before. It flowed through her with every emotion possible, all at once. She tried to analyze the song, but it was too complicated, and tired her out. She laid down, cuddling one of the velvet pillow, and fell asleep to his mesmerizing music saturating her body. When he finished, he was surprised to find her fast asleep. He couldn't believe how angelic she looked to him, in her peaceful slumber. He didn't have the heart to wake her, instead, he searched threw his house for a blanket, and draped it over her petite body to keep her warm.

"Goodnight, My Daughter." He whispered into her ear.