Turn of the Tide - Intrusion
Erik:
My work on the library was at no point particularly interesting to me. The majority of the tasks included drafting the interior wall structure that would meet the special needs of the client. It was all perfectly boring, not that I wanted any distractions from my work. Whenever I was on the job I much preferred accomplishing what I had set out before me, and returning to the seclusion of Nadir's humble flat as soon as possible. Usually this was never an issue given my focus and uncanny sense of stealth. This was not the case one particular evening.
I hadn't been at the site more than an hour when I was rudely – and most unrepentantly – interrupted. I turned around from my drafting table to find Nadir standing just within the lantern's light, some dark figure off behind him – seemingly the Library manager whom I had met two weeks prior. My annoyance increased as the two continued to stand there without so much as a word. As I tapped my pencil off the table, I tilted my head thoughtfully. "Rubbish," I noted.
Nadir shook his head briefly. "I beg your pardon?"
"This protractor is rubbish," I explained as I held up what was left of the instrument. "I fear it may have seen its last draft." That was absolute nonsense, I might add. Yes, I may have nearly destroyed mine in a fit, but I could have easily popped it back into shape with no more than five minute's work. I simply enjoyed giving Nadir the runabout for dragging me into this little pet project of his.
"What happened to it?"
I half smiled at Nadir's confusion. "There are many ways to describe it, but perhaps it is best left said that it had an unfortunate encounter with the floor."
He sighed. "Indeed. Well I can assure you there will be a new one in the morning."
Predictable, Nadir - far too predictable. Shaking my head slowly, I said, "On second thought, never mind. I suppose I could put my own back together."
Nadir looked up. His confusion was now invaded by a familiar sense of frustration. "But I thought you said you needed a new one?"
"I never said a word about a replacement," I noted with a wry smile pulling at the corner of my mouth. Yes, I was getting to him. Yes, I was enjoying it. "I simply mentioned its condition. Good God, Nadir, you jump to conclusions faster than a ballet rat practicing yenta." I looked over my shoulder to see Nadir's face becoming flush with irritation. I would have taken a bit more satisfaction in my work if I hadn't once again noticed the man standing in the shadows. His sharp top hat did not remind me of the man I had met before, and there was a sudden tight feeling in my throat when he made his way toward us. The potential smile on my face disappeared as his features became visible.
"Chagny," I growled. My evening just went from annoying to homicidal. His presence astounded and angered me to great lengths. Nadir had wisely come to stand in front of me, and facing me had placed a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to keep my welling anger at bay. I merely leaned with my left arm against the table and stared at Chagny though the mask. How my hands did not fly to his throat I will never be sure.
Raoul stepped further into the light while he removed his white gloves. His face displayed an air of calmness, but his hands twisting his discarded gloves had given him away. Several tense moments passed with neither party willing to make the first move. Quite frankly I wondered if Nadir was looking to take cover.
Chagny shifted under my glare. "I did not come this evening to make enemies, nor do I expect to make friends."
"What a coincidence, Chagny, because we are already enemies and I came here to work," I spat.
"I've come to ask some advice regarding my mare."
"No," I retorted. "You have made a most unfortunate error."
"Erik," Nadir cautioned as I felt his grip tighten ever so slightly above my ruined shoulder.
"No, it's quite alright Monsieur Khan. It is pretentious of me to intrude. I apologize." The Comte stared me up and down for a moment before foolishly asking, "Evening dress while working?"
"What in Hell do you want from me?" I demanded, my patience nearly gone. How dare he come here and pretend to make conversation. He and I continued to stare at each other as he contemplated a response, but when his features softened some I realized his answer was not all he had hoped for.
"I'm not exactly certain," he muttered. Chagny looked down briefly, but when his eyes returned to meet my gaze, he found me staring blankly at him with mouth gaping. For a moment I considered stabbing my free hand with the sharpened pencil I had in order to wake from this frustrating dream, but then thought better of the repercussions. I wiped Nadir's hand off my shoulder and immediately demanded to know why he had brought Chagny here.
"Monsieur le Comte had some technical questions to ask of you," he explained, calmly as ever. "He sought me out here one day and inquired into a meeting."
"If he is unable to provide a forthright answer to me, than this 'meeting' is no longer worth my valuable time." I turned suddenly to Chagny. It was not my time that was valuable – it was my patience. "I am beginning to regret allowing Christine to leave with you, Monsieur," I seethed. "I would have hoped for a bit more common sense in one of your position to stay out of danger. What, did your mother drop you on your head when you were a child?"
"I beg your pardon?" he demanded, his face twisting with displeasure.
I stepped toward the young Comte. "Because it occurs to me that you have some sort of mental incapacity that prevents you from listening to reason. If I were you, I'd take what I was fortunate enough to have and leave those lying in your wake well alone."
To his credit, Chagny simply stood there and took my onslaught. By now Nadir had taken a strong hold of my right arm and was prepared to do whatever necessary to prevent me from getting at the nobleman's throat. Chagny withdrew his stare, but not his stance. Thoughtfully he peered down to the floor and then to Nadir.
Chagny poked around the room, stepping around plaster molds and discarded tools. "What is all of this?" he asked impetuously.
"This?" I replied, referring to my drafting tools, plans, and indeed the entire scope of the design project. "This is what I do!" I explained, my arms wide like a showman. I returned my arms to my side and stepped brazenly forward. "This is what I have always done. Ah, not much of an angel or ghost now, am I? Architecture seems a terribly dull occupation for one with such an ominous reputation, I agree. This is what I did before your lot drove me underground."
"My lot?"
"Men," I spat as I stepped again toward him. "With your wars, your classes, your accusing eyes…a man cannot be left alone with his own troubles – society must drive him mad with them! I am quite sure you've never received a knock upon your door from the lowly wife of the drunken landlord asking you kindly to leave because the other tenants are becoming too curious. I do not suppose you have ever had to work for a living in a place where the only thing that overrode the workers' hatred of you was their complete dependency on the pay you gave them. I could go on, but quite honestly I don't see the point." By now we were only inches from one another, with me towering over him. Raoul stood stock still as if at attention, staring straight ahead and past my left shoulder. He did not seem fazed; if he garnered any hint of respect from me at all that evening, it was in that one moment of composure.
I admit it is exceedingly difficult to carry a rage when your opponent does not reflect your anger in any visible way. My left hand clenched into a fist behind my back, for I could have choked him all too easily while I stood there over him. Nadir had immediately rushed over to restrain me – not that he would have done any good! – and stood off to my left awaiting an explosion. It was not to come. The three of us stood in close proximity for what seemed like a long while. In a low tone I asked finally Chagny, "What do you want?"
He immediately turned his head to look me in the eye. "I want to know what you did with the horse that evening. I want to know how you calmed him."
"Get out."
I watched as he seemed to wrestle with his words. "I ask this of you on behalf of Christine."
"Get out."
"The mare I'm intending for her needs a quiet start. I am quite certain of the good nature of the mare, but in order for her to be the proper mount for a lady I feel your techniques may be a more suitable approach."
"Childish pet tricks," I said, dismissing my work. I made a gesture and he started for the door. Chagny only made about four steps before he slowly turned back.
"It was magnificent," he noted thoughtfully, his hat now on his head. "I am a horseman as well, you realize, and I have never seen anything like it. It was remarkable." He glanced to the floor momentarily before saying, "I'm beginning to realize a great deal of your work is."
Of course, he was referring to Christine. She was my one shining jewel. My gaze fell to the floor, and slowly I made my way back across the room to the table where I had initially been working.
"She is concerned for you," Chagny said, almost apologetically, and I spun around to look at him with contempt.
"Don't," I warned.
Raoul fixed his eyes on me. "I would not mention it if it were not true." That statement was completely disarming. I quickly found I could not hold a rage when Christine concerned, and because of it I spread my arms across the drafting table and hung my head some.
I had been prepared to walk away from the whole mess – Christine, her Comte, the Opera, all of it – yet this dolt seemed quite unprepared to let me do so. "Let me warn you Monsieur, that you are playing a dangerous game, seeking me out like this," I growled as I looked over my shoulder at him. "I let you go once; if you keep coming back into my life I will not guarantee that I'll do so a second time."
Raoul stopped and looked back at me. "You already have."
With that, he disappeared into the adjoining, unfinished room. I continued to hover over my table, musing over what had just transpired while Nadir made his way to my side. The very fact that the boy had sought me out was unthinkable in my mind. How utterly foolish his actions were! What was more disturbing to me, though, was my repeated tolerance. I might have easily done away with Chagny in the past, but how I managed to allow him to walk away was eating me from within. I knew not what to make of it. I only wanted it to be over. I had accepted that Christine would never belong to me. I had accepted that she was better off with her Comte. But not once did I anticipate this. I rested my head on the table and instinctively placed a hand on my sore shoulder. "This is killing me, Nadir. It must stop."
He gave me his usual concerned look before paying his dutiful attention to the obvious. "Your shoulder? Come, we shall return home and I'll prepare some medication." That was Nadir talk for I'll happily drug you until you are completely witless.
I grimaced. "I'm not referring to my damned shoulder, Nadir!" I finally yelled as I stood up once again to face him and pointed to the door. "This must no longer continue. Allowing them back into my life after I had walked away. You interfere far too much and it is killing me."
"Interfere with what!" he replied angrily. I could only stand there and stare at him with contempt. As much as I hated to admit it, the man was absolutely right. I had nothing. What is worse is that I had no ambition to achieve anything, either. Men find themselves down dark roads when they lack purpose. My head dropped once more. I was very much in need of a brandy, or perhaps a good, sturdy wall to dash my head off of.
Nadir stood faithfully by, allowing me time to think before he started in on me again. "I would happily leave you to plan your own existence if only you would promise me to actually do something with yourself."
"I can happily plan my own way right into the Seine, with some iron weights to accompany me."
He sighed and stared at me for a bit. "Perhaps we need to look at this differently."
"Perhaps you need a new mercy case," I spat. As I stood there contemplating his words, I began to think of future possibilities. Nadir could be correct once again. Perhaps playing a small role in Christine's life was better than no role at all. I was quiet for several minutes, staring off into nothing, until something caught my eye on the drafting table. I lifted the now delicate instrument and examined it briefly before crushing what was left of it in my hand.
"Nadir."
"What?"
"I need another protractor."
Author's Note:
Thank you all so very much for sticking with this and continuing to leave reviews. It means a lot to me! Future chapters to follow, so please be patient! Lots of reviews lots more motivation for me to write.