A/N: Ok, My computer is a total mess... Don't be surprised it if restricts me from updating for a while! I hate it! Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter. Oh, I"ve finally found a way to put lines into the text, so i'm sure it will make you all much happier. Please Read and Review, thanx :)
Kristen stood enveloped by the surrounding darkness of that ominous room, which claimed resting place to the horrors of Erik's past. She knew he was troubled. She could hear the emotion and the pain in the music he played. What had happened during her absence?
She put light to a few of the many candles which filled the dusty space, and searched around her. She was thankful he had no problem with her being in there. He could very well have stood from his instrument and demand that she leave. Nothing in this room held any sentimental value to her whatsoever. She knew the story of the tiny rusted cuff's, but other than that, she was completely ignorant of the origins and the past of all his other horrendous items.
Stacks upon stacks of books covered the antique wooden table in the corner. Books which were worn with time and use. The light of the candles sent little shadows dancing on the walls around her her as she approached the books. She soon realized she should not have turned her back to the door, for the very voice she'd grown to love had startled her beyond her wildest imagination. Erik would never frighten her, it was not that it washis voice... any noise would have shocked her.
"Why do you take such liking to this horrid place?" She heard him ask. Her heart throbbed painfully against her rib cage as she searched frantically through her mind for the right words.
"Erik..."
"You should not trouble yourself with this collection of misery."
Her brows slightly lifted in an anguished expression. He now sounded just as he had before the beginning of their amazing love affair. What lurked within this man which inspired such agony?
"I love you, Erik." She said, though her words were severely out of place. She saw his eyes close, just as they had closed upon knowledge of her touch as he played.
"I know Kristen," he whispered, "I love you too..."
"Please tell me what is wrong." she said, "I cannot bare to see you so immensely saddened."
He said nothing as he approached the table of old and worn books, she only heard the softest sigh from him, as he began to flip through the timeworn pages. Kristen felt a sudden urge of curiosity, something she was not used to feeling, but felt nonetheless. That same sadness devoured his eyes, the same sadness which was always there... until more recently. Why had it returned? The thought that perhaps she should not have left him to go to the funeral came abruptly into her mind. That could not be the cause... could it?
Then, for no particular reason, her focuss was drawn to the tiniest toy sitting in the far corner of a black shelving unit. The candlelight was reflected in it's miniature gongs, and in it's eyes. A monkey, in Persian robes. She silently neared the object, occasionally glancing over her shoulder for a sign that he was watching her. He was not, he seemed altogether focused on the book which he was reading.
She reached the toy, and gently lifted it from where it rested, leaving a circle of dark wood, surrounded by dust which had not acquired residence below it's spectacularly decorated form. She carried it with careful hands towards Erik, and once close enough, she gently laid the ornament upon the book from which he read, and looked up to him.
"Was this yours too?" she asked with softness.
He glanced down at the trinket, and slowly nodded. "Yes." he replied.
She watched him gaze at the monkey. His eyes became rather distant, she knew he was remembering something.
"What does it do?" she curiously inquired.
He stared down at the toy. It was impossible to describe the enormous waves of emotion and memory which began to flood his tortured soul. It was an object in which he'd intentionally forgotten, and had no ambition to come into contact with again. Although now, his darling beloved Kristen subsisted in reawakening it's ability to sadden.
"It plays music" He answered softly. He walked around the table to her side, and put his hand to it. A few short moments later it began to project the sweetest harmony she'd ever heard, and the most painful song he would ever know.
"Oh, it's enchanting!" She told him, but as she looked up into his eyes, she knew that he was not feeling the same things. "Erik..." she said, taking both of his hands, and beckoning him to face her. "We're going to be married." she told him. "We're going to have a baby... why are you woeful? and why must you wear the mask?" she asked.
Before he could say a word she gently embraced him, resting her head on his shoulder, holding him closely to her, putting her hand to the back of his neck.
"I am haunted." he said. Truly he was. He could never have imagined that her absence would instill within him such fear that she may not return. He strongly refused to attend that funeral for the very real reason that if he had been there, the public would ridicule him... laugh at him... the last thing he needed was to see those hateful people pointing their mocking finger's at him. The lair was an entirely different place without her there. She could be anywhere in the threater, and he would be fine. But if she left the building, he was alone, completely alone. The funeral had taken several hours, to his great distress. Since meeting her he'd never been away from her that long.
Every horrid memory had come back to him in being down there unaccompanied, how could he tell her this?
Her brow lifted once more in an look of sadness. "By whom are you haunted?" She asked in a caring tone, "Or what?" She knew the answer... it must have been his past. But then there was also that underlying fear that somehow Christine was still the cause of this relapse of sadness.
Darkness returned to his voice, but the way he held her, without exception contradicted his intonation. This especially moved her. He spoke with the hiss of the Devil, but held her with the hands of an Angel. "I have lived a rather hateful past which does not grant me peace."
Her eyes unintentionally closed, somehow hypnotized by his magnificent sound, and saddened by his words of sorrowing. "Erik," She whispered, her breath warming the side of his neck. She would kill to stand the rest of her life within his arms, consumed by that voice.
The music box started up again, as if an invisible hand had tampered with it's mechanics. She was pulled slowly by the music from her hypnotic state, and he was pulled further into the hell of his history. She half released him to allow enough room to look into his eyes.
She most certainly must have been in a less than sane state of mind, but he did nothing to stop her from what she did. In reaching up to touch his mask, she gently removed it from his rugged features. She not so much as glanced away at the sight of him, but he had to work up such strength in composing himself as he saw her turn the mask from herself.
This was in all respect the most insane course of action she'd ever taken, but regardless of that thought, she turned the mask, and slowly lifted it to her face. She had to know what he saw when he looked out through those dark and empty holes. She had to know what he felt from behind it. It was still warm from being against his skin. She saw his expression change from sad to astounded.
"My Kristen, what on earth do you think you will achieve?" he asked her.
She gently sighed, and removed it. "Erik, I know you think you are... less than perfect..." She paused, she could not be vague. "Please tell me you will never wear this around our child?"
Her question took the very breath from his lungs. She placed the unfeeling disguise onto to the nearest table, and returned her glance to him. "You have to promise me you will never wear the mask around our child."
"You wish me to frighten the child out of it's mind?"
"Our child will never know you to be frightening if he or she sees you everyday, and knows that you mean nothing but love and affection."
He was silent. She put her hand to his shoulder, and brought her lips to his in one very soft-hearted kiss. "I want our child to know you the way I know you." She saw his eyes become moist, and she felt terrible. She could not let him continue to hate himself, she just couldn't.
"You will be an amazing father, Erik." she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, looking into his deep emerald eyes, "You will teach our child incredible things. Your music, your architecture, your trickery..." She then sighed, "I wish I could have even a fraction of your talents." She brushed her lips against his once more, then wiped away the tears which she saw begin to trail transparent pathways down his cheeks. "Although, I am worried that while you teach our child things of such amazing genius, I will not be able to understand the matters you two will talk about, or your strange scientific experiments."
It was true he had been planning to teach their child everything he knew, but he never considered that somehow she would feel insignificant. Kristen, the love of his life, he would sooner cut off his arm than be the cause of her tears. He gently lifted his hand to her hair, and kissed her temple. "I won't let that happen." he whispered to her, trying with all his might to overcome his own sadness in order to make her happy. "I would never neglect you. And a child should spend more time with it's mother. We will raise him or her together Kristen, I promise you."
She looked up at him and smiled, "You promise?" she gently asked. He caressed her porcelain cheek, and nodded, "Yes."
Meg's heart was beating fiercely within her chest. She'd never felt the kiss of another. It was a kiss at first, before it grew into a series of kisses. She felt his hand against her neck, his thumb against her cheek. Nothing was real any more... her mind was so lost in this amazing show of affection.
Slowly their kiss was ended, but they scarcely parted. Her breathing was uneven, her eyes only slightly open. Everything she was feeling was written in her expression.
He could not deny that it was truly unbelievable. How could she not be married by now? How? It was impossible.
The whole rotunda was ghostly silent, every corner was in shadow, there was scarcely light at all. Meg could have been frightened by this place, but she wasn't. She felt so safe as Nadir cloaked his arms around her, and held her closely. She could not calm her heart, she almost wanted to cry. Once more her heart was skipping beats as their lips met again. So close they were... until the most ghastly sound filled the air. Footsteps.
She didn't know whether it was her or him which broke off first, but both of them retreated to the refuge of a shadowed corner as they saw her mother, Madame Giry, walk into the rotunda and up to the front doors. Meg's heart seemed to stop dead. Her breath caught in her throat.
Nadir watched Antoinette suspiciously. She looked out the window as if waiting for something, or someone. After several painstaking minutes of silence and worry, the ballet mistress left the rotunda, Meg and Nadir had gone undetected.
It was now, with this knowledge of their fear of Madame Giry, that they realized they had started something which could result in utter destruction.
"Oh Nadir," Meg said delicately. "She will never approve of us. Never..."
She leaned against him as he leaned against the wall, and allowed herself the comfort of his arms. This was awful, completely awful. Unless they prowled around together in secret, Meg would lose her position in the ballet, and God only knew what else.
He softly moved her golden hair behind her ears. "Everything will be fine," he tried to assure her, but he didn't know himself howfine anything would be. He knew that the ballet was important to Meg, and he would never think of ruining it for her. But he also knew that it would be terribly cruel to love her then leave her.
She wouldn't let it end that way. If they were truly meant for each other, nothing would ruin that, nothing.
Christine jumped as she heard the knock at her door. Still she sat, huddled in the corner of her bedroom, tears just streaming down her face. Madame Giry waited outside her door for about ten seconds before she concluded that Ms. Daae would not be answering her. She turned the knob and entered her room. When she saw Christine sitting there like a frightened child in the corner beside her bed, she was instantly knelt before her.
"Christine!" she was so worried...
"Oh Madame Giry" Christine hugged her knees and burried her face within her arms. "It will never end... it will never ever end."
"Please Christine, I know that you are going through a very hard time, but you must try..."
"Everyone I love keeps dying." She said with such terror in her voice, such deep and deathly terror. She looked up at Madame Giry with wide crying eyes, "I shouldn't stay here." She sobbed. "I should not stay here in Paris. For my sake... for Kristen's sake. Madame, I shouldn't stay."
"But you must stay" Antoinette said, "Who will sing for us on opening night? We cannot find someone to match your talent! You are our leading lady Christine! We need you!"
Christine took several deep breaths in attempt to calm her sobbing, but was only partially successful. "I am no singer, Madame, I could never sing without my teacher. Only Erik knew how to teach me."
Antoinette could not disagree. Erik had taken this young lady and transformed her into a star. It would be deadly dangerous to ask Erik to continue giving her lessons. She knew that no one could match Erik in musical genius. There were only two options. She could either return to being student to Erik, or they would have to scan Europe for a new singer. Who would sing at the Populaire after such tragedy? They would never find someone with enough courage, or talent.
"I cannot return to him." She whispered in a shaking voice. "I broke his heart, he would never forgive me."
"He is going to marry Kristen."
"All the more reason for me to stay away." Christine bellowed. "If I get involved now, I could ruin everything for them."
"Nonsense!" Madame Giry said with authority. "You are not going anywhere. You have no where to go, and we need you. You must stay. I will talk with Kristen and Erik, if he will not coach you, then I will find another composer who will."
Christine couldn't believe this was happening, but she had no strength whatsoever to stand her ground against this woman. Erik would never agree to have anything more to do with her, and she knew it. He must loath me, she thought painfully. After Madame Giry closed the door, Chrisitne began to cry again. Her life was over.
Madame Giry moved quickly down the hallway towards the manager's office.
"WELL?" Shouted Armande, "Where are they? They should be here by now!" he spoke nervously, angrily.
"Relax monsieur, I am sure they will not delay much longer." She replied. The last shipment of building supplies was supposed to have shown up by now, but apparently, they were late. Over the past few months, the Populaire had gone through some major reconstruction work, the majority of it now complete. Madame Giry had been working with the ballet, everything there seemed to be under control. Auditions for a supporting cast were under way, thank heavens that some people still had the nerve to even enter the Populaire, after the rumours of the ghost and all. The only problem was Christine. There was not a woman in Paris who could sing like her. She was going to talk to Erik, she had to. He had to teach Christine again! He just had to!
Two hours later, the Populaire began final reconstruction. Within weeks, performances would once again grace their stage.
"Where are you taking me?" she laughed quietly. Erik pulled Kristen along gently with a gloved hand through some very dark labyrinthine corridors. She could not recall ever being through these ones before. She would not fight with him about his wearing the mask while out of the lair... she could accept that.
"There should be something rather interesting taking place within the theater... if I have acquired the correct knowledge."
Knowledge? How could this man know anything about what was going on five cellars above, when they spent most of their time in the lair? He was truly a mystery.
"Erik...?" She said with some unease. Wherewas he taking her? He just beckoned her forward, and she followed without hesitation.
"Box 5?" She asked. He nodded. "Why have you brought me here?" she whispered curiously. A red curtain concealed the audience's view of the box. Erik peered out through the thick fabric. Kristen in turn did the same.
"What are they doing?" she asked.
"Auditioning, no doubt. This should be interesting." he said dryly. The two of them stood there spying on the audition process. How odd it was that their circumstances could change so quickly.
"I hope that it can be like this forever from now on." she whispered to him. He withdrew from the curtain, and in the darkness took her into his arms. "It will be" he whispered to her, then kissed her passionately.
