And now, the moment you've all been waiting for! They return…to the Opera House!
Willow Rose 3: No problem. Glad you're happy with it.
Songwind: I know, right? It's like suitcases are built to shrink at the end of the vacation.
CloudxInxCrimson: I think if him as smelling rather earthy, with an overlying scent of cedar, and a slight hint of ink. (Heh…ink…) Earth from the cellars, ink from the time spent composing…I'm not sure where the cedar came from. But that's the scent I picture. Yay for the stern Phantom voice! (And my friend Lessa loved your phic. We talked about ink for ten minutes.)
ElfLover: Haha! Nope, not Hilary. You'll see in this chapter. Oh…many, many somethings…you have no idea…
Goddess of the Neon Rose: I learned that from my science teacher. There's something in it that if too much of it gets into your skin, you get cancer. Or something.
………………………………………….
The taxi pulled up in front of a large, ornate building shining in the sunlight. Erik, Aislin, and Hana climbed out, pulling their luggage with them. "Merci," said Aislin, paying the driver. He drove off, and they all stood looking up at the Opera Garnier.
Erik sighed.
"Hooray for the ten or so words I know in French," muttered Aislin. "Let's go in – I'll help you to get settled."
"That won't be necessary," said Erik, slinging his case over his shoulder (A/N: I forgot in the beginning of this story that in the first story, Erik packed his things in a pillowcase). "I live here, so I'll be fine." He acted smooth, but truthfully, he wanted to run up and hug the pillars of the Opera.
"I really meant Hana. I'm just going to brief you on a few things when we get to the cellar." Aislin picked up one of Hana's bags of food and headed inside.
The three of them stood in the entryway of the Opera – cavernous, elaborate, and with rather too much gold in the décor. "Welcome to the Paris Opera House." A tall, dark-skinned man in an odd hat greeted them, looking more than a little amused at the sight of Erik with his two phangirls.
"Hello, daroga," replied Erik sourly. The Persian, who will be referred to as Nadir – a name which is not canon, but is inevitably the only one he has, raised an eyebrow upon seeing Erik in his rather more laid-back wardrobe. Erik looked down at his jeans.
"Don't expect to see it too often."
Nadir spread his arms wide. "I welcome you to the Opera House. Hana, I am always here to help…and to protect you from this fellow here." He shook Hana's free hand, nodded to Aislin, and waved to Erik. "It's never too hard to find me. See you around the theater!" And he strode off into said theater.
Erik rounded on Aislin. "Did you put him up to this?"
She stood her ground. "Yes I did. Hana needs another friend that's not a murderer around this place. Hilary will be able to help her when she's needed, but she can't hover over her all the time. Now then…to the cellars…" She looked around.
"Lead the way, Erik."
Erik smirked, and strode ahead of her. He decided to take a longer way around, in order to leave the more frequently used passages of his Opera in secret. Couldn't have Hana knowing every turn of the labyrinth. He made his way into a smaller hallway off to the side, and opened up a nearly invisible trapdoor in the floor. Lithely, he slid through into the darkness below. Aislin jumped fearlessly in behind him. Hana shifted from foot to foot.
"Are you sure?" she called.
"Just jump!" came Aislin's voice, not at all far away. Hana jumped.
The floor was maybe six feet below the door, and she quickly landed.
"Oh," she said. She closed the trapdoor behind her.
Erik's golden eyes twinkled in the dark. They blinked. Then they disappeared as he turned around. "Follow me," he ordered in a whisper. He then proceeded to guide them along a twisting route through the five cellars, through numerous trapdoors, behind a lot of pieces of scenery, and at last to the edge of the lake.
Having taken a longer route, he was more than ready to get inside his little house. Aislin was fiddling crossly with the dirt-stained hem of her black dress, and Hana looked ready to collapse into the lake.
Erik pulled the little boat out of a small cove made by a piece of discarded scenery leaning against a wall on the far lakeside. He picked up the pole, then stared at it.
"What's wrong?" inquired Hana, shaking with the cold of the cellars.
"I…don't know if the boat can carry more than two people. It wasn't even made for more than one, and I've never had to bring three in at once." Erik tested the boat with his foot, and it, of course, supported his own weight.
They all looked at each other for a while. As much as one can look at someone in near-total darkness, anyway.
Aislin blinked.
Hana blinked.
Erik's golden eyes blinked.
"Oh, fine," huffed Aislin. "Leave me then, why don't you. Little Aislin doesn't matter, no, leave her in the dirt." She plopped down into the damp soil by the lake, arms folded. Glaring at Erik and Hana through the darkness, she shooed them away with her hands.
Hana climbed into the boat. Erik shrugged, and joined her. He thrust the pole into the water, pushing them away from the edge, where Aislin sat stirring the water with her finger.
Ten minutes later, he deposited Hana before his front door and started turning the boat around to go back.
"Aren't you going to let me in?" asked Hana, pointing to the door that was barely discernible in the shadow.
"And leave you alone in my house with all my things?" Erik retorted. "I think not. You stay there, and I'll be back in a minute."
Twenty minutes was more like it. He had to pole all the way back for Aislin, whose only consolation for her abandonment was the fact that Hana was now waiting alone on the other side of the lake as well. Then he had to pole Aislin across – resulting in a grand total of twenty minutes.
Hana was now very cold.
The two girls stood side by side while Erik did…something…with the door. They weren't quite sure how he got it to open, as it didn't have a knob or a visible lock. But open it he did, and it swung open to reveal the sitting room, in all its velvet draped, candlelit, flower-strewn glory.
Hana nearly fainted.
Erik sighed again. "Home…"
Aislin ushered them inside. Hana flopped down on a dark red couch, and Erik wandered over to a door – doubtless the door to the music room.
"Not yet, Erik," Aislin called, "I still have to tell you something. Give it a second." He came back and sat on a stiff wooden chair. There being no other furniture in the room aside from a coffee table in the middle and some small candle- or flower-covered desks lining the walls, Aislin stood. She cleared her throat.
"You are now here at the Opera house, for the rest of this week and one week after. How you spend your time here is up to you. Hana is not required to stay in Erik's house, but if she does, she is not allowed in his bedroom or his music room. Those are off limits. Should she not stay in the cellar, then she must stay in one of the upstairs dressing rooms. Erik?" She looked pointedly at him. "It's your call – here or upstairs?"
"Upstairs," Erik replied promptly. His home was his home – it was not to be invaded. Hana looked rather disappointed.
"All right then," said Aislin briskly. "Hana will accompany me back up when I leave."
"Oh, that's all right," said Erik. "I can take her to her room."
Aislin stared at him. Erik volunteering to go somewhere alone – for however short a time – with an unrestrained phangirl. Scary. "Erm…okay. Anyway, you do what will. Hana isn't allowed to try anything against Erik's will, and she can only come to the cellar when Erik invites her. And Erik – you can't just not invite her the whole time you're here. She must come to see you at least once every day if you don't go to see her. Erik isn't allowed to lose his temper so much that he drops a chandelier, murders unsuspecting stagehands, or throws Hana into the torture chamber. He does however, have the right as the Opera Ghost to threaten anyone, abduct anyone, and throw anyone to the Siren. Got it?"
They nodded, rather regretfully. The loss of full use of the Punjab lasso was a hard blow for Erik. And Hana couldn't sneak down here to see him? How disappointing.
"Here," Aislin gave Erik a paper with a small map of the second floor on it, the floor with the actual auditorium and the dressing rooms. It had a map to Hana's room. "Shouldn't be too hard to find." She smiled slyly. It's Christine's old room."
Erik gaped at her. "She's staying in Christine's room? Why?"
"Why not? It's the only dressing room with a connecting passageway, and you needs to be able to get to ger easily. It's not like Christine is still there. Oh, and Hana? While you're here, you have to take part in the Opera."
"What?" Hana stared back.
"You thought you were here just to play around?" scoffed Aislin.
"…Kinda."
"Well, no. Even Erik has a job. He haunts the place. You have to be a ballet girl, or a chorus girl, or a stagehand…girl. I recommend chorus girl – Erik's supposed to train your voice anyway. Someone will come with instructions on your rehearsals tomorrow."
Hana sulked for a moment. Aislin waved and departed.
"Wait! Will you be returning?" Erik called after her, but there was no answer. It was Erik's turn to sulk.
"Come," he said to Hana, who then jerked out of her own thoughts. "We'll leave through the torture chamber. Since she obviously took the boat." He led her into a side bedroom – evidently the Louis-Philippe room, and through another door which he unlocked.
Hana was then greeted by endless Eriks in every direction. She stared wildly at the infinite Phantoms surrounding her.
"What?" asked the Eriks.
Hana then fainted.
………………………………………………
And so it begins! Again. And MetaChi – if you're reading this, do you think I could sort of borrow the Siren for a couple of chapters? She can hop dimensions anyway – why not phics? (And I forgot to thank you in my review for giving me so much time in Soul Exchange – thanks!) Review!
