OK, so I was torn here: Would you guys prefer to have another chapter before having to miss me for two entire weeks, or would you hunt me down on fair Crete for the cliffie that this new chapter contained? I decided to play by your curiosity and post it anyways, evil cliffie or not it really is a nice and long one! See that light in front of you? That's the end of the tunnel dawning for our sweet Céline! Or...the gates of hell opening to receive Roger, whatever makes you guys happy. Enjoy, see you all in two weeks! (grabs suitcase and plane ticket and runs off to the aiport) -x- Lotte.
The house by the lake sat silent, as none of its guests felt much need for talking that morning. Erik and Luca were both exhausted from the massive haunting they had performed that night, playing their recorded organ concerts from just the right angles down the cellars, making sure the sound would resonate the building as if coming from everywhere and nowhere. To any outsider it had surely seemed as if a madman were playing his music in continuous torture, as if some great burden was troubling him. The paper and ink had been easily acquired through the Valmont house, and Erik's heartfelt despise for his listed condemned made the note quite an easy one to compose.
Their scheme, however daunting, seemed to have been successful. Right after breakfast the managers had called for a general meeting at the grand auditorium and had stated somewhat flatly that due to financial problems they were forced to let go of some of their staff. As the names of the unfortunate were read however, it did not seem to make sense to anyone. These people came from all different departments and were surely not the least talented amongst the entirety of the cast and crew. One whisper had grown to two, three, a murmur of complaint, growing to an angry roar from Roger as his name was called.
"Financial problems you say? I dare say your problems will only increase in releasing me! Was it not mere weeks ago messieurs, you promised to look into my soloist position? Why this sudden change of heart? And what of OUR financial problems now that we are to be unemployed?"
Monsieur Roulaux and Monsieur Firmin jr. looked from one to the other, sweat appearing on their brow. Indeed they would rather cut off their arm then to send off one of their finest tenors but if not, it seemed that the Opera Ghost would do just that…and more.
Their nervosity sparked a sudden gloom of understanding, as one of the stagehands slowly rose from his chair.
"The Ghost…it's the Ghost who is forcing you isn't it? What evil did he threaten you with this time? Would he toss down another chandelier? What!"
Firmin cleared his throat, just wishing this whole ordeal to be done with as soon as possible. "That is exactly the problem my good man, the Ghost seems not to wish evil upon this house, rather…on the very people on this list. We have no other choice, in view of your own safety, but to let you go. Rest assured you will be compensated accordingly and letters of good conduct will be…"
At that the rafters over the stage started moaning in protest, as if a sudden breeze had swept through the old wooden boardwalks.
"No excuses…no deals…no mercy for the wicked!" It seemed but a whisper, yet with such a cold intensity as to put the fright of death into everyone's hearts. Luca smirked at himself while making his way down from the rafters. He counted himself lucky to be in on the plot, for though he had never considered himself weak hearted, he could easily imagine how his father's deep and echoing voice could scare the wits out of any unsuspected bystander.
And now they sat, side by side, willing themselves to finish at least some of the breakfast Marie had kindly brought in for them whilst on her way to the manager's offices to inform them of her granddaughter's absence due to a flue. Both men had been genuinely shocked at what had happened to Thérèse. Both blamed themselves for not having foreseen the potential danger she was in, and ached at the memory of Meg's face when informing her of all that had happened. She had been very kind and understanding, more so than they perhaps deserved, yet begged them to leave Thérèse far from their schemes from here on. A promise they were both happy to make. Erik however was no fool, and he knew full well Luca's pensive silence held a world of hurt in it.
Willing himself up, he gently nudged the boy's shoulder. "I suppose we should prepare to leave. After this sudden turn in events I imagine DuChamps will return home shortly. Should he decide to make a stop at a café first I would not want Céline to have to face him on her own. God knows what other evils that boy has up his sleeve!"
Luca only nodded, yet said nothing as he obediently started to gather their meager possessions.
Erik looked around the lair once more. How ironic. Just as the place started to feel like home again, he would lay it back down to sleep. He closed his eyes and allowed the silence to encompass him once more. So many memories lingered here, painful ones, beautiful ones… He could clearly remember the day he first arrived here, tired of waiting around for Marie to finish her classes and curious to see more of his newly adopted home. His first impression had been equal to Luca's, one of fear. It was not long however before he had begun to realise how fear could be used as a weapon of its own, for if he feared this place so would others. Fear would mean peace from the world, fear would mean no questions, no interruptions to his silent reveries, his road through grief, his climb back up, his path to knowledge. The scared, scarred boy had slowly but steadily transformed himself into a cold, calculative, reclusive genius. And all the while his only witnesses, his only audience, were these walls and these rippling waters.
"Father?" He spun round, the proof of his drastically changed life standing before him.
"You're going to miss this, aren't you? The lair I mean. The feeling of belonging here?"
For a moment Erik didn't know how to answer. His entire being yearned to return to Italy, to its warmth, to her warmth… Yet he knew this place would never cease its silent cries towards him. It had been both his heaven and his hell, and he was unsure as to how to store it away in his memory yet.
"Yes, I suppose I will. It holds its spell over me, this entire theatre does. It was born through me as I was born through it. Nourished by it and torn apart by it. But its soul always lay with its inhabitants, and there is no one left here I will be loathe to part from. I have taken from it what I love, now let it find herself a new lover."
And with that he sank their boat and slowly started making his way up to the stables.
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Roger sat at the bar of his favorite café, safely stowed away deep in the heart of Montmartre, drinking away his final pay and pining his losses. Where exactly had his life gone so terribly wrong? He smirked, face it boy your life has been a big mess from the start!
His mother had been a gentle, naïve girl training to be a singer at the Opera House. Having secured a position in the chorus, she had obediently played the tiniest of parts hoping to grow into the larger ones with time. Until a quicker solution had presented itself. One of the Patrons of the Opéra Populaire, a young Baron whose family originated from the Loire Valley, had taken a fancy to her and had promised her the world…for a certain price. His mother, blindly believing his promises of love and marriage, had followed by his every command. Until he had suddenly declared he must return to his family estate, where his betrothed would be waiting to marry him. With a simple promise of "calling on her again should he be in town next" he rode off into the sunset, leaving his dear pregnant mother to fend for herself.
A few years later, his wife having died in her childbed, he suddenly reappeared in their lives, and seemed happy and grateful with the existence of his son. He again promised "Madame" DuChamps as his mother was now known, taking on the part of a widow to keep up appearances, the world. They would marry, Roger would be his rightful heir, the boy would want for nothing…
That last promise was the only one he ever kept, for Roger did continue to receive ample funding for a proper tuition and warm clothes on his back. The rightful recognition of his noble descent however, never came. And so he had concluded, he would use what little means he did have, the ample talents and good looks that seemed to have been bestowed on him, to his own advantage. If society wouldn't give him what was rightfully his, he would simply find ways to take it for himself. And by God, did it work!
In a certain way that was what had attracted him to Céline in the first place. The enticing fairy princess that whirled her way around him on stage, yet always seemed to carry such a heavy burden upon her shoulders. They shared a common history, only she had been ever so much more fortunate. Her mother was actually made Vicomtesse, her father holding true to his promises. And even after the Vicomte's demise there had been a new father and a new family for her to belong to.
And still she dared to complain about not fitting in, her dreams unfulfilled…The nerve of the little wench! And so his love had turned to hate, his good intentions into evil plans. He would fulfill her dreams for her, and she in return would make him a rich man. He would buy an estate and dote on his poor mother for the rest of her life, never again would worry cloud her mind! She would have a caring daughter-in-law and perhaps in time ample grandchildren to look after. No one would lose in this scenario…right?
And now…now money, no career, a whining wife and…a sudden trembling hand upon his shoulder. Turning around in his chair, careful not to lose his balance in his already lowered state of consciousness, he looked straight into the startled face of young Sophie Lenoir.
"Mademoiselle Lenoir, what an honour. Have you come to join me in my lament? Come sit and drink with me to the health of the Opera Ghost, for ruining my life and my career and making sure no one even attempted to stop him."
"Lower your voice and quit your complaints, you are not the only one damaged here! Roger, oh Roger please stop this and look at me, we need to talk. I'm so scared my darling, I do not know what to do…"
Roger lifted his head once more, not liking the tone of her voice and a soft towing bell beginning to chime in the back of his mind.
"Roger…I'm pregnant with your child."
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Céline DuChamps sat quietly humming in her chair by the fireplace, waiting for Roger to come home. His favorite dish was waiting for him in the kitchen for she knew rehearsals were going rather badly of late and he was sure to come home in a terrible state. By now she had learned how to cure this however, with a good plate of food, a fine bottle of wine and ample lace on her soft silk lingerie. She wondered how much longer they would be able to enjoy their quiet life together, before perhaps a baby would arrive to bring joy to their lives. On one side she was desperately longing for that moment, on the other she was selfishly enjoying her sole possession of her husband.
For once in her life she felt important, the mistress of her own household, and a good one at that. Her house was clean and beautifully furnished, her husband was happy and successful and clearly doted on her. Life simply couldn't be more grand…and how she wished to share her happiness with her family! True, they had had their fall outs in the past, but surely they could find a way to get past all that? Much as the memories of that fateful night pained her, she had never given up on an eventual reconciliation. Especially after it was made so perfectly clear her family here in France wanted nothing to do with her.
A sudden knock on the door shook her from her reverie. She frowned, surely Roger had not forgotten his keys? She got up to open, only to stumble away from the door in shock.
"Father? Luca? How…what are you doing here? Is everyone alright? Maman…"
"Your family is in excellent health, I assure you. I believe there are many matters at hand that require an explanation my dear, however your hallway seems not the proper place to do so. So what do you say to allowing us entry to your humble abode, Madame DuChamps?"
At least her father's sneering cold sarcasm hadn't changed. It was beautiful and frightening all at once though, to see them again. Not knowing well how to respond, she nodded silently and bid them inside.
"I must say I am quite surprised to see you both. God, it seems so long ago since…well, won't you sit then?"
She noticed how both her father and Luca remained standing. They looked worn and tired, yet admiring of her home.
"You seem well Céline. I mean…you are well, I trust?"
She smiled at her younger brother. "Yes, I am perfectly well, I assure you. My husband makes sure I lack nothing, indeed I..."
"Yes, well that is a quality he seems to be bestowing on many these days. Tell me Madame, where might your husband be at this moment?"
She narrowed her eyes, was her father testing her or did he intend to confront Roger directly? "I suppose he will be home from the Opera soon, once rehearsals are done. Why?"
Her father grimaced bitterly. "So, I suppose he has not told you all rehearsals have come to a screeching hold since yesterday, and that in fact he is as of today no longer employed at the infamous Opéra Populaire?"
It pained him to see the colour drain from Céline's face, but he knew only the straight forward approach would wake her up from her sad world of false dreams.
"It cannot be…Roger is one of their finest Tenors! The managers would never have let him leave! What reason was given?"
"Improper behaviour amongst his fellow cast members." The verdict came plain and clear.
"I'm not sure I understand…"
"I am referring to the loose morals your husband, as well as a group of other unfortunates were displaying Céline. I am talking of acts he should not have indulged in while his wife sat waiting for him back home. Acts that young Sophie Lenoir should not have agreed to knowing her lover was a married man…"
I was fortunate Céline was already seated, or she would no doubt have sunken to the floor at that very moment, her body trembling in shock and disbelief.
"No, no it cannot be. You're lying, you only wish to come between Roger and me. Why must you torment me like this? Why can't I be left in peace?"
Luca felt sorry for his sister's pain, yet knew better than to interrupt his father right now. He knew these revelations would break his sister's heart, and realised at the same time there was no other was to go about this.
"Still convinced my sole purpose is to hurt and threaten you, are you? Do you not think I would sell my soul to be able to bring you better news? Alas, there is non to be had Céline, if you cannot believe my word please feel free to seek out Mademoiselle Lenoir for yourself. I am sure she would be happy to relate how she and Roger have enjoyed each other's company since before your illustrious marriage. I daresay in a few months the proof of their joyful situation will show amply, unless Roger will keep his promise to her and pay for her timely abortion…THAT is the state of your marriage my dear, THAT is your husband's true character. The very thing I have feared from the start and have sought to protect you from!"
By this time Céline heard no more of his words. She silently stood up, no doubt with the intention to run from the apparent truth, yet stumbled but two paces before her legs gave way underneath her and darkness surrounded her vision…
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The door of the apartment rattled as Roger came stumbling in, confused at not finding his wife running up to him in squealing delight. The house seemed cold and dark, the smell of a ruined dinner coming from the kitchen.
"Céline? Dammit Céline, where are you? I have no taste for your games!"
"Apparently Monsieur, she no longer cared for yours either…" came the cold reply.
As he spun around on unsteady legs he suddenly faced the person he least wished to see, his posture straight and unabiding, his eyes flashing angrily behind the shadows of his mask.
"Well, if it isn't my damned father-in-law! A good evening to you sir! So I assume I was correct in encountering your beloved son at the Populaire? At least I now know I have not gone mad entirely…I trust you have received my letter? Have you come to surrender your money to me at last?"
Erik flashed him a cold, calculated smile. "If you are referring to my daughter's share of my inheritance monsieur, I fear you are in for a long wait. Much as you seem to have scholared yourself, I believe the law is not one of your strongest subjects. You see, my final will and testament, as well as all arrangements with regard to earlier settlements upon my children, were drawn up in Italy. And as it seems, one of those tiny little lines hidden somewhere in the middle of those endless pages of rules and regulations, states that in order for a child to withdraw from her funds, her marriage must be settled under Italian law as well, and with the full consent of both parents. Are you seeing what I am getting at Monsieur? I would not know of your knowledge of geography, but I regret to inform you that Switzerland has not been confiscated by Italy just yet…and I believe we have already established the match was not entirely agreed upon by all parties involved now, was it?"
Even in his clouded state of mind Roger knew full well what these tidings meant: another dead lead. No money from de Chagny, no money from Alighieri. They were flat broke, only now he had to share the little money he did own with a second person, and maybe even more in the future…
"Well that's a fine mess I have ended up in, isn't it? That little bitch set me up quite properly, hell the entire scheme has cost me quite the little fortune! And what do I get in return? An obedient wife and lover? Why pay her to get what I want, when I can receive those pleasures for free elsewhere? If I had known she would prove to be this useless I could have saved us all a lot of trouble and send her home by herself. Good riddance I dare say…"
Céline felt her breath catch in her throat, and only Luca's strong presence pulling her close could prevent her from screaming out loud. Oh God, what had she ever done to deserve such a nightmare? Why her, why him, why now?
After she had fainted they had brought her back into the bedroom, Luca guarding over her as Erik sat and waited for Roger's return. His drunkenness had proved to be a blessing, as it made his tongue deliciously loose. Wasn't it said that children and drunks always spoke truth? And now they sat behind the door, eavesdropping like little children on the dreadful conversation going on in the living room.
"So, what now to be done Monsieur? No money, no job, not even a letter of recommendation from your former employers. An illegitimate child on its way and God knows what state your wife may be in. Not a position any man would envy you for I suppose."
Roger shook his head as if confused, sinking down in a chair. "This was not supposed to have happened. How was I to know what had befallen between the Chagny's and my precious mother-in-law? If she had been a wise woman she would have spread her legs to that Francois you know. She would have had it made for the rest of her life, for Céline…for me."
The next moment he was thrown across the room and flung against a wall, the other man's temper now flaring with a vengeance.
"Watch you tongue boy, I will remind you you are speaking of my beloved and your wife's mother. I will no longer stand by idly and watch you place the blame for any of your faults onto innocent shoulders. We have many debts to settle, you and I. Or have you forgotten your brutal attack on my other child? The nightmares it has given her? The grief in losing her sister's trust? The wreckage you have caused upon our family? I have worked too hard to build this peace in my life DuChamps, and I'll be damned to let a petty bastard's boy like yourself take it from me. You could not have picked a worse adversary at this point, believe me."
"Stop, father please stop, no more…I can't take it…please…let's just go home to maman and forget this nightmare ever happened…" The sudden weak voice of Céline filled the room. She had no longer been able to keep quiet and out of sight, and wanted nothing more but for the angry voices to die and leave her.
Erik seemed torn between his daughter's pain and her husband's punishment. Deciding not to stoop down to Roger's level he slowly backed away, turning towards Céline while attempting at something similar to a reassuring smile. She was right, they would have this marriage annulled and then they would be on their way home, where life was safe and warm. Roger's next words however, made him forget all his good intentions.
"Don't even think you can just walk out on me like that you harlot! How you enjoyed my attentions and presents and flattery, how you moaned my name in pleasure as I took you, over and over again! And what did I receive in return? Absolutely nothing you worthless little twit! Just look at you cowering there in a corner, damaged goods. No respectable man will ever want you now, that at least will be my comfort!"
The next moment he was back against the wall, his head beginning to hurt from the force of the repeated blows received. The dead look he now received was enough to make him realise the man restraining him here cared nothing for his life or his death, and his next words made that all too clear.
"Bois de Boulogne, lover's lane, dawn. Two men, two pistols, two bullets. Bring a second if you will. You might wish to have a friend present to carry your rotting corpse away from that place for I surely will not bother."
Roger shot him an amused smile before extending his hand. "Likewise."
And with that they parted, Céline following her father and brother in silence, carrying only the small bag she had brought from Italy.
Just so you know, voting polls for the outcome of this duel are open as of tonight, I'm sure my dear sis DawnStag (get reading on her stuff people!) will be more that happy to act as my bookie! -x- L.