Ah man, almost done. Unbelievable man. This story has been such a huge part of my life for so long...still we've a couple more chapters to go. Two-three by my estimates but don't hold me to that.
This was supposed to be two chapters, but it flowed nicer as one.
Qui salvandos salvas gratis: who freely savest those worthy of salvation
WARNING:
The FADA (Fanfiction Addiction Detection Agency) has come to the conclusion that this story can be highly addicting. The Author cannot be held responsible for drops in the reader's grades due to new chapters. Large doeses of Requiem can lead to dependence. The Author is not responsible for withdrawal symptoms which can occur when author fails to update speedily enough.
Megan had never been one to think things through before she acted, but even she was questioning her haste as she sat in a sitting room alone, waiting for Chèri to return with his parents. Hopefully she hadn't made a mistake, but it wasn't as though she had much of a choice. It was her only option in trying to save Erik. She was sure that they truly knew Erik, at least, Chèri did, and that was a small comfort.
She took a deep breath and stood, there was too much nervous energy in her body for her to sit still. Her whole body hummed like a string pulled much too tight. She paced around the room a bit like a caged tiger, prowling silently and praying that she had made the right decision.
Pictures of the family littered the walls. The mother, father, and two children pictured together happily. Chèri she could name, and he had mentioned his family name as well as his father's.
Meg's attention fell to Madam Leroux. The woman Erik allowed into his box. The woman she thought Erik cared for at one time.
Oh how long ago that seemed.
Chèri looked more like his mother than his father. He had her same blond hair, as blond as spun gold, and the same green-gray eyes. His smile however belonged solely to his father. Gaston Leroux was large but what matched his size was the huge smile you could tell he would always have.
It reached his eyes and finished off his face. Even in the painting she was staring at you could see the lines forever folded into his flesh by so many smiles. She liked him instantly just for that. Someone who smiled so very much and so kindly couldn't be all that bad…
Chèri came in then followed by his mother and father. The sister in the painting was absent.
"Megan Giry! I would never have guessed it would be you. I've heard about your dancing from my wife."
He actually lifted her off the ground when he hugged her, her back cracked and the hug hurt, but she didn't mind it as much as when the Baron hugged her. She smiled and laughed as he set her down and she stumbled before catching her footing.
"Please forgive my husband. He gets carried away. Spoils Erik like he were one of our children. Whom he spoils enough as it is." The woman laughed and it was so elegant. Even knowing the best dancers in Paris Megan likened this woman's every move to some dance or another. Her voice itself was soft and smooth like the finest silk.
Megan could see why Erik tolerated this woman's company so very often.
"We're all just happy that Erik has someone who cares for him no matter how awful he acts sometimes." She laughed delicately and her husband smiled at her.
For a moment Meg felt as though she were intruding on a private family moment, so she tried to think of something to say. In the end all she came up with was a soft, dejected sentence which managed to hold all her fears in so few words.
"I don't know how to help him." She whispered, twisting her hands together and staring at the floor. Their home was nice, not as nice as where the Baron surely lived, but she probably enjoyed this home more because it was so filled with love.
"Oh silly girl. It doesn't matter if you have a plan or not, all you need is the want to help him." Gaston exclaimed. She was quickly realizing that everything he said was practically shouted, which she attributed to his zeal for life, and it only made her like him more.
"He doesn't mean it like that. My Father has a plan. It's just we sort of need your help. My mother is too tall for the part." Chèri explained softly. She looked from one to the next, wondering at their plan, scared to hope it would work.
"It was actually Gaston's plan. He met Erik long ago, back when he stilled lived in Persia."
They retired to a sunny room filled with books and soft chairs—it was Gaston's office they explained—and there they began to explain their plan to save the man Megan loved with all her heart.
As it unfolded it became scarier and more impossible sounded, and yet, these people were so certain it would work she couldn't doubt that they could actually pull it off.
The guard was too scared to leer, thought with all his heart—if you could call it that—he wanted to, desperately.
He'd never seen a woman dressed in so little before, he didn't have the money to go to some of the more disreputable shows.
She wore a pair of white gauzy pants that billowed around her legs, so much so that he had mistaken them for a strange skirt when he first saw her. Her hair was long and dark, wrapped in deep red silk with gold thread making intricate designs in it, though he couldn't see her face it didn't matter much. Around her chest she wore just a small piece of white silk like her pants, baring her stomach and her shoulders…her long expanse of back…he could barely breathe this close to her.
He knew he couldn't watch her though, couldn't be caught staring. She had a large, imposing guard with her and even if he didn't notice her translator was staring at him. She was a real Princess. Honest to God Royalty. The translator said she was from a small country called Persia, and that she was not a princess, but a Sultana.
"The beast's name is Erik, and he belongs to her." The translator explained. "He was a convict in her country and became her property, she would like to confirm that it is him and then take him back to suffer punishment under her laws." He'd explained. Though enamored with her beauty, he had shaken his head, explaining that the creature was going to die here and that he couldn't allow them to take it away.
The Sultana had stamped one perfect foot and looked to the large guard. Then she pushed the translator, angry.
"She will of course make it worth your effort to say that he tried to escape and you were forced to kill him." A small bag emptied into the guard's hand, sparkling gems and gleaming jewels.
He had nodded dreamily. "Whatever you want." And then reality hit him once more.
"Are you sure she wants to come? It is awful dirty in the deeper cells and I wouldn't want to see her suffer." He took it as a chance to stare at her again. Her dusky skin fairly glowed in this half-light and he could feel his blood thrumming in his veins.
She moved like a princess too, all grace and calm demeanor. She didn't speak but the translator turned to her and whispered in her ear in hushed tones. Ah what the guard wouldn't give to be able to get that close to her, even just once.
He could smell her clean smell all the way on the other side of the room, so different was her scent from the stench that normally came from the dungeons.
When she heard what he had said, she glared at the guard and for all her beauty ice ran through his body in place of blood. That look was evil, twisted and not unlike the one that demon in the cell had displayed on several occasions.
A look of hate and the will to kill.
He nodded, gripped the gems so tightly that they cut into his flesh, and lead the way into the bowels of the prison, snatching the keys on his way. He wasn't sure what she wanted with a monster, but after that look he wasn't so sure that outward appearance could reveal if one was a monster or not.
The translator leaned to whisper something to the Sultana but she struck him, pushing him away, and stormed off after the guard.
They reached his cell in what felt like an eternity. The guard just wanted to get away, he was in over his head and he could tell.
Men in the cells around them fell into silence as their small group passed, all staring at the vision in white who walked among them.
The Opera Ghost's cell was at the end of a long hall, buried away so that should he try to escape he would be stopped long before he could truly be free. It was huddled in the far corner when they got there and the guard stood at the door, unsure of what to do, the Sultana pushed him aside violently and the guard, dark skin and no shirt and all muscle growled low in his throat. The guard scampered away, waiting to be called upon.
She whispered to the translator who stood beside her at the bars.
"Erik, you have caused the little Sultana much trouble in running away like you did, but she's finally found you." Erik started, his heart leaping into his throat. The guillotine seemed better than this fate. The Sultana's wrath was well-known throughout her whole kingdom and he knew it better than anyone, having been the one to carry it out for so many long years.
"You knew this day would come, do not be so surprised. It is time to return to your true home and face what you have coming." He translated. The Sultana looked different but it had been over 15 years since he had last seen her, aging was to be expected. She turned away before he could meet her eyes and the translator spoke in soft tones to the guard.
Within ten minutes—not that time had meaning in this dark hell—Erik was bound, gagged, and chained, following closely behind the Sultana, held in place by the tall dark man who guarded. They were escorted around the back and he was pushed first into the carriage waiting for them.
He thought it strange that there was but one carriage and that he would be riding in the same compartment as her, but it was possible she had become less rash and more intelligent, realizing that much more than one carriage would be noticeable and that her gold could only buy so much when it pitted against the bloodlust of all of Paris.
Erik was pressed tight against the far wall of the compartment by the guard and he could only think that at least this way he would not be pranced around in front of all the city to be taunted before he died.
The rebellious part of him, which did what it pleased, reminded that this way Megan would not have to see him die, and if it was true that she cared for him, he did not want her to have to suffer watching him humiliated and killed.
It was still hard to believe, but there were little other explanations. He could not tell but he liked that Megan could think he died trying to be free.
He did not understand how he could love Megan when his love for Christine had been so pure, but he knew that this pain in his chest could be little else.
It was just so different from what feelings he had harbored for the Diva.
The carriage was a good distance from the Prison before the Sultana shivered violently.
"I'm sorry, but this is what she would wear. Here." The translator pulled a blanket from under one seat and helped her to wrap it around herself in the small space.
"This makeup smells terrible." She whined, which surprised him at first because when he had known her the Sultana refused to learn English. It surprised him a lot less when the translator laughed a laugh that reminded Erik of someone and used his sleeve to scrub at the Sultana's face.
The dusk of her skin rubbed away revealing white flesh.
"Better." She said with a weak smile, pushing away his hands and looking to Erik.
"Megan." He breathed sure that this would be his last breath.
"Yes. She did well didn't she? I think she should have been an actress rather than a dancer." The blond man said, and finally Erik could name who he reminded him of so much.
"Are you…"
"Gaston is my father. I am so happy to finally meet you, I've heard stories of you since I was small, though I realize it is not under the best circumstances." He was more like his father than originally assumed.
Even in the darkest of situations he was smiling and happy, instantly trusting and warm. Part of what had drawn Erik to trust his father so very much. Chèri was all smiles and warmth even in this dire situation but it was still Megan who drew Erik's attention.
She was still wrapped in the large blanket and most of her face was still smeared with the dark paint to make her look as though she were truly the Sultana. He supposed that idea had been Gaston's as he was the only man in the city who knew of Erik's life there.
Still, she was beautiful, and that thought no longer startled him, she was beautiful, and she had risked her life and her mother and her world to save him.
"I'm so glad you're safe." She whispered. "I'm sorry that we couldn't come sooner but it took a while to get this costume and I had to learn to be a Sultana." She managed another smile, a little stronger than the laugh.
"You did an amazing job Megan." Chèri exclaimed, patting her shoulder softly. It bothered Erik that he could touch Megan so freely while Erik was still tentative. Twice now he'd hurt her. He could not forgive himself for that so easily. "When you got angry with the guard in the main room…however did you manage that look? It honestly gave me chills." Chèri added, as though he had just remembered he meant to ask. The dark man nodded in agreement. Erik assumed he must be a friend of Gaston's and trusted him, for now at least. At Chèri's question Megan actually laughed and pointed to Erik.
"When the girls in the Ballet corps were small, we played at being the Phantom, chasing each other and scaring ourselves with stories. It was before I even heard tell of him from my mother. I just made a face like the Phantom would. I hope you do not mind Erik." She said, seeming to be ashamed now at what she had done.
"Don't mind Erik. My father says that he just acts at being so terrible anyway." If it had been anyone else Erik might have killed them. But Gaston was like that as well. He was so sure that Erik was harmless and human and sometimes it was nice to be looked at that way.
"I brought this for you, I know it's not much…And I don't mind, but I know you prefer to hide." Megan said softly, reaching into the compartment beneath her seat again and pulling out a plain black domino. He took it from her, grateful, and pulled it over his head. It was slightly uncomfortable but he preferred it to his face being naked for all the world to see.
It was only a few minutes more before they reached the Leroux home and were ushered into the house and into Gaston's study. The dark man vanished away but Gaston and his wife appeared. His wife Sophie drew Megan aside.
"Poor Megan was so patient as we turned her into the Sultana, I think she will be grateful to return to being herself. I hope you do not hate me for dragging her into this but Sophie could not have pulled it off and I did not trust anyone else to help rescue you." Gaston apologized when the two women were gone.
"I am angry that you pulled her into a jail-break. She will have to go into hiding as well now." Erik mentioned, not sure if he was more angry than grateful or not.
"No, we told the guard to say you were killed in an attempted escape. And…" Gaston grew quiet—which was a sign bad news was to come after all, "And Megan will have protection." Erik realized what he meant in a moment.
"She'll have the Baron to protect her."
"Yes. We discussed it as long as we could but all we came up with was that she would have to marry the Baron anyway, it will protect her mother and she and will keep them free of suspicion if it is discovered that you are still alive and well. But of course you will still have to leave the country. We got you two tickets to America." Gaston explained. Erik could tell he did regret that Megan would be forced into a marrying a man she did not care for, but it happened ot so many women…
"Two tickets?" Erik asked.
"Precaution. If they check the ship's log you are a man traveling with his wife, they will not suspect you. If it comes to that."
"Thank you." Erik said softly. He really did owe Gaston so much. This was not the first time that Gaston was helping him away from danger which would lead to Erik's death.
"You're welcome." Gaston knew Erik well enough to know a large speech about how Gaston would of course help whenever he could was not wanted. So he made do with a soft smile. "She would go with you, if you asked." He couldn't stop himself from saying.
Erik frowned and moved to peer out the window.
"No. She may but in a few weeks or maybe a month at best she would grow weary of this life. She seeks only adventure, a way away from the ordinary."
"You do not give her or yourself enough credit. She truly loves you Erik or she would not have helped us." Gaston pointed out.
"She is a compassionate woman."
"She loves you. What can we do to make you believe that?" Gaston asked. He had waited for so long to see Erik happy and now the man had a chance and he would not take it. For a moment Gaston truly hated Christine for hurting Erik like this. "If you asked her she would go with you, she would run with you." Gaston finished, standing and moving away from Erik and to the door.
"She's going back to the Baron to save you, because she thinks it is all she can do for you. She thinks you don't care for her." He said, his hand on the doorknob, ready to leave Erik in peace for now.
"I do not. I appreciate her help. But I do not care for her and I did not ask for her heart."
"Liar." Gaston's wife said, opening the door and pushing past her husband. "I can see in your eyes you do, you just refuse to admit it." She sighed and turned to her husband. "Megan is returning to her Hotel. Her mother sent a message while she was gone, the Baron wants to marry sooner rather than later." She turned to Erik though she was still speaking to Gaston. "They will be married before Erik is to leave." And she and Gaston left Erik in peace to think over what they said.
"Meddling pair. They deserve each other." He whispered to the empty room.
Forensic Photographer711: Man I have been planning to introduce the whole family for so long when I finally did it was like, "Finally", It also goes to explain a lot of questions about things, but that will come later still. But at least now you all have the ability and information to figure and guess at what I'm plotting.
I would love to take credit but in the book Erik assures the Persian that it was the thing in the lake that killed Erik, I just thought poor Sorelli deserved to know.
I love the way you described Megan giving Erik her heart. "Here catch" awesome. I love it. And of course I loved your review. My big long reviews make me feel so loved and want to speed up my writing.
Wandering Child24: Aw, I read reviews like yours and feel really bad for some of the stuff to come. But have faith and I hope you liked this chapter just as much even though I've got more torment to put everyone through.
Quixotic-Feline: I feel bad you felt like it was rushed, but I meant what I meant. I wanted to in the last chapter, describe how he acts, rather than is, and then with him being cheerful he was supposed to be for two reasons. The first was that he is like that just like his dad, books describe Gaston Leroux as happy and cheerful all the time. So I put that in, and the other was that he was certain they would save Erik.
I hope that and this chapter helped the situation make more sense. I feel bad when I disappoint my best and favorite reviewers.
I'm glad so many people liked those lines you mentioned. I certainly loved them when they appeared in the chapter. Almost as good as keel-hauling, but sadly he's fast. Still though I have some things up my sleeve.
Jen Summers: I'm glad you think I'm creative AND keep them in character. I agree it's hard to do especially in a fanfic, but hearing people like you telling me that I manage it well makes all the effort worth it.
I know it makes me sound heartless but ooh I love that I brought tears to your eyes, it makes me feel like I really have accomplished letting you feel what these characters are supposed to feel.
Ah finally someone is trying to toughen up that ninny. I want to say thank you in so many ways for so many things but I think I'd take up all the memory left on this website. So just know that it is people like you who make me write so well.
whitedragon235: I am glad you like it so very much, it makes me happy that you enjoy my story. I don't think a love scene is going to be in here at all, at least not like you mean. Mostly because for the time period, people barely kissed before marriage, and the other reason, because I'm not exactly the type of person you want to write Lemons. I'm utterly TERRIBLE at it. And that's being kind. But I can promise updates soon. Is that just as good?