Disclaimer: I do not own POTO in any of its many forms, except for this plot. I do not own Les Troyens. I only own Danielle and her idiot brother Luc.
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my most recent reviewers, Winter Rose Alchemist and Alexandria Aminta Aurelius and Artemis Amenia Aurelnius, my long lost twin.
Chapter Five: Denied Truth is Acknowledged
Erik
Erik slipped into the ballroom unnoticed. He had found a very convenient window that no one had bothered to lock, making it very easy to attend uninvited. Erik hadn't seen Danielle all day and he didn't know what her costume would be, but he was rather confident that he would recognize her easily.
Not knowing what else to wear, and having little time to find anything, Erik had come in some of his normal attire, complete with cloak. The only real change was a black full mask, replacing his usual half white one. He had considered coming as Red Death again, but he didn't want to be noticed by anyone, and that particular costume was rather eye-catching to say the least.
Erik watched the door unceasingly from the other side of the dance floor. His breath caught in his throat when Danielle came into view. She was the only girl who had opted for a modest costume, no doubt a testament to her austere religious affiliation. It was a lovely sea-green cotton dress that enhanced the darkness of her green and, at this moment, laughing eyes. The dress was cut in the Grecian fashion. Her arms were bare and the bodice dipped a conservative two inches below her long, graceful neck. It was quite reserved, but somehow Erik found himself wishing she would wear a more revealing dress for once.
He also sincerely hoped that it was the three glasses of wine he'd already imbibed talking.
When Danielle lifted her floor-length skirt a little to walk down the staircase, she revealed gold colored sandals with straps weaving up her calves and tied in a bow at the back of her knee. The dress was fitted and clinging, accentuating curves that Erik hadn't realized were there. Her white mask was shaped like a bird's wings and the only jewelry she boasted was a string of small pearls. Danielle certainly wasn't the most beautiful woman in the room, a fact that Erik probably would have noticed if he still had the power to look at any other woman in the immediate vicinity…or to blink.
Erik barely noted that her brother left her almost instantly. Danielle was walking, no gliding, along the edge of the dance floor, so his thoughts weren't with any of the men in the room. In the time that he had spent studying her, he had never noticed how graceful she was.
As these completely unwanted thoughts pushed themselves to the forefront of Erik's mind, he tried to recall his purpose for being there. He had simply meant to watch her, unobserved, intervening when necessary. These masquerades were breeding grounds for romance. There was little danger of her finding a lover at the Opera House, but this was a different matter entirely. There were better men in this crowd than the roguish tenors she was usually around. He couldn't afford to let another man ruin his plans for the girl. Even if he didn't entertain any amorous notions, a lover could destroy all of the care Erik would take with her. The man would probably find out about Danielle's mysterious teacher and become suspicious, turning her against him. Besides, men had an infuriating habit of marrying the actresses they loved, and then taking them away from the stage so they could be a "normal" couple.
Erik's moving feet cut off this train of thought. They were moving him straight toward her and he was helpless to stop them. Then there was that accursed, invisible vise again.
Danielle
Danielle was momentarily stunned by the spinning colors and loud voices when she entered the ballroom. She and Luc, who had come as a pirate, stood at the top of the staircase for a moment, taking in the chaos. Luc immediately spotted one of his favorite tarts in the crowd and left Danielle to her own devices. She didn't know anyone there besides her brother, so she felt comfortably alone and anonymous.
A little escape from the Opera was just what I needed, she told herself, though the thought suddenly crossed her mind that her "admirer" might be watching her at that precise instant.
Danielle had hoped that her simple outfit wouldn't attract attention, allowing her to merely watch the dancing couples, but apparently modesty was a novelty to this crowd. Almost as soon as she was alone a man dressed all in black silently offered her his hand. He cut a rather striking figure in his cloak and mask. It seemed to her that they belonged on him, as if he wore them constantly. She was almost in awe of him.
Danielle thoughtlessly and wordlessly gave him her hand, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor, while she studied what could be seen of his decidedly gorgeous face. There was no mistaking him; it was the man in box five. He had the same full lips, cleft chin, jet black hair falling just below his collar, and to complete the picture, blue eyes that seemed to burn with a strange fire.
The man rested his left hand at Danielle's waist. He raised her left arm in his right as the orchestra began a Viennese waltz. He held her so closely that it was almost scandalous. His arms were firm, but gentle. Their faces were nearly touching.
They stayed together for several dances, neither speaking. Danielle tried to find a word to describe the way he moved. Every movement was controlled and calculated, so calculated that he seemed rather dangerous. And his eyes! They were captivating. She didn't notice that those eyes never left hers.
While pondering the mystery of her partner, Danielle was caught up in a whirlwind of her own emotions. She lost herself in the music and the motion. She felt freer than she'd felt in a long time, and for some reason her skin was tingling pleasantly.
Danielle thought she'd faint with delight when she heard the introduction of a Spanish Dance. She had certainly never been taught that in finishing school, but she had managed to pick it up since. This type of dancing was a guilty pleasure. The dance was very fast-paced and (dared she think it?) sensual. Somehow she wasn't surprised that her partner never missed a step, but she was agreeably surprised that she didn't either.
He broke the silence first and whispered in her ear, "Did you like the roses?"
Danielle's heart hammered as she replied, not knowing what else to say, "They were beautiful. Thank you."
He whispered again, "Do you like the classics?"
"What do you mean," she asked, slightly off-balanced by his random question.
"Les Troyens, a Greek costume. They seem to point to a love of the classics."
"I'm a siren, and I happen to adore the Greeks."
"A siren was the perfect choice. Your voice is certainly bewitching," he answered in a voice that caressed like velvet.
At this, Danielle's face turned a very becoming shade of pink. The color of her eyes deepened. "I wouldn't say that," she said calmly.
"I would. Do you mind if I call you Danae?"
"Danae? The mother of Perseus? R-ravished by Zeus," she questioned, stuttering a bit, uncomfortably aware that she was playing with fire.
"Of course," he said with an air of nonchalance, as if it weren't at all odd that he had just compared her to a woman infamous for being raped by the king of the Greek gods. Danielle stopped abruptly, pulling herself out of his arms.
"You may call me Danae if you tell me your name," she said coyly.
"You may call me Orpheus," he replied, sounding amused with his little game.
"Danielle," she heard Luc call her. "We're going."
She turned in the direction of Luc's voice to shoot him a filthy look. When she turned back, the so-called Orpheus had disappeared.
Erik
Erik couldn't believe his boldness, or his stupidity. He wasn't entirely sure which of the two had taken control of his body. He had not only asked her to dance, if you could call it asking, but he was holding her much closer than convention would allow. And he couldn't stop. It was much too enjoyable, though he took great care to keep his face impassive. There was something electrifying about feeling his arms wrapped around her lithe body. His heart was pounding, and he had no idea why.
After several dances, which he executed perfectly (though he couldn't help but notice her misstep during a gavotte), Erik found himself speaking. He hadn't meant to reveal that he had left her the flowers, but suddenly he found the words spilling out of his mouth.
Their conversation turned to banter. He even managed to give her a very inappropriate nickname. When she stopped and pulled away from him, he feared that he had gone too far. He was greatly relieved when she told him he could call her Danae. Then he'd gone back to a playful mood in an attempt to cover the intense surge of happiness he had experienced at this remark.
Unfortunately, her fool of a brother had chosen that moment to get himself kicked out for a drunken brawl that he hadn't even won. But Erik knew it was for the best. A few more dances and he'd have been eating out of the palm of her hand. He chose now to melt into the crowd. From a safe distance, he watched her turn around. He smirked at the astonishment on her face, feeling very smug because of his own cleverness.
Erik was sorry to see her go. Dancing with her had been a pleasure he was not accustomed to. It wasn't often that a woman wanted him to put his arms around her. The experience was more intoxicating than the wine.
Erik made his way out of the ballroom, through the door this time. He journeyed back to the Opera, keeping to the shadows, though not really thinking about what he was doing. He reached his lair without obstacle and sat down at his organ.
He could no longer deny that Marie had been right. He did have feelings for Danielle, feelings that scared him. He didn't want to hope for her love, only to be crushed again. He had barely survived losing Christine; he didn't know if he could live through that a second time. He would have to be more careful in the future. He wouldn't let another woman wrap her hand around his heart, and then squeeze it the way Christine had.
Soon, he thought to himself as he played one of his more haunting melodies, Very soon.
On a sudden impulse, Erik brought his hands down on his beloved organ harder than he had meant to, just as Danielle had done weeks before. He felt frustrated and, even worse, guilty. How could he have thoughts like this about Danielle when his heart would always belong to Christine? He was betraying her!
How are you betraying her, asked a voice in his head.
"By thinking of another girl," he shouted to his lair.
The way she betrayed you with the Vicomte, the voice returned temptingly, as if it were the devil himself.
"That was different!"
How? You loved her. You were willing to give her everything you had, including your life, and she turned to him instead. That sounds awfully like a betrayal.
"She never belonged to me in the first place!"
Exactly. She never belonged to you, retorted the voice. How can you betray what is not yours? She belongs to another man, the man she loves. You have every right to love someone else.
"But I don't love anyone else," Erik said, almost begging the voice to believe him.
But you could, Erik; you could.
A/N: In Greco-Roman mythology, Danae was a princess of some country. Zeus (or Jupiter) was deeply attracted to her, so, while she was bathing, he became a golden shower, rained down on her, and impregnated her. Danae had a son, the hero Perseus. Her father put her in a small boat with the infant and had her floated out to sea, in essence burying her. If you are interested in her fate, and in that of her son, check out The Clash of the Titans with Laurence Olivier and Dame Maggie Smith. They fiddled around with the legend, but it is a pretty decent representation.
A/N: In Greco-Roman mythology, Orpheus was a musician who was so talented that he could move animals and rocks with the sound of his lyre. He is also famous for going to the underworld to save his wife, Eurydice, after she died. He brought her back to life, only to lose her again because he looked back at the underworld as he made his journey back to the mortal world.
A/N: I hope this wasn't too silly and trite. I know you were probably thinking, "Crap! Another masquerade. How Mary-Sueish!" But, you see, I do love a man who can dance, so I made Erik quite talented. And just to throw off any ideas that my Danielle is perfect coughmarysuecough, I didn't make her as good a dancer as Erik was.
