More craftydevilness...
A total mash-up of the musical and my die-hard E/C brain. E is her teacher- as an angel only- until the night of her debut. That darn Raoul visits C and E jealously snatches C through the mirror as soon as R leaves. Basically like the musical. The Phantom takes Christine below. He sings. She sings. He sings more. She follows. He sings some more. Shows her a life size doll in a wedding dress and she faints...since the musical takes a turn for the worse for our favourite couple after the unmasking, I decided to change it! Let us see what happens when Christine wakes up in my rambling die-hard E/C world...
o-o-o
I awoke and immediately sat up in the unfamiliar bed, straining to listen to the music calling from the other room. It stopped very suddenly in an awkward way and I wondered if part of my dream song had lingered into wakefulness due to my quick rising. With a glance around, I realized I was in a rounded bed shielded with gauzy black drapes. Was I still dreaming? Scattered memories and dreams assaulted me all too quickly and I held my head in my hand for a moment to regroup.
The last solid memory. A standing ovation just for me, and Raoul's stunning smile of recognition in my dressing room.
The thought of his proud face made anger burst quickly, since he had absolutely no claim to my success, so his pride in my performance rankled.
I owed all my ability to my angel...
At the thought of him, heat flushed up my chest and face as I remembered his anger over Raoul's visit and then, like magic...a gloved hand reaching out to mine from my mirror. I eagerly traveled through the looking glass, enchanted, enthralled...
The music started again and I sat up straight, my heart hammering with hope. Was that my angel playing? Was my favourite impossible dream playing out for me in exquisite detail? I pinched myself a few times to make sure I really was not asleep. Could angels draw people into their realm?
I couldn't remember much from last night. My angel sang in my head and lead me into darkness where exquisite music reigned...
The beautifully comprised notes stopped awkwardly again and I randomly thought the pianist must be composing.
I moved as quietly as possible and slipped from the bed, seeing I was still in my slip and robe from after the performance. How did I get into this bed and not remember it?
I looked around the room curiously as a few notes were plucked out in the distance. There were crates and chests all around the room, it appeared to be lived in, with general clutter and clothing scattered about, and on top of one crate a strange little monkey with cymbals, stared with glassy eyes. Would an angel need such a room? There were no windows and not much light. If this was where my angel brought me, then was he not an angel? Was he only a man? And he lived in a cave?
I closed my eyes and concentrated on the memory of Angel's song last night taking me down into a dream too beautiful to bear...it had to be a dream, but if it was only a dream and I was awake now, then where was I?
I remember there was mist...candles all around...and in the boat there was a man...
A mask!
My head shot up as I put one and two together, and came out with the Phantom!
The young girls would whisper about his home under the opera, which I'd always taken for absolute nonsense, and the scene shifters told tall tales about his masked visage, each trying to out do the other with horrific lies. Mme Giry was always bringing notes from him so I assumed he was trustworthy from her point of view, and his suggestions for the music and productions always helped and made the shows better. There was a time I thought that Mme Giry herself was writing those notes, but then the phantom had interrupted rehearsal one day, shouting that we were singing to bring down the chandelier with our awful sound, and Mme looked as white as the rest of us. Carlotta had stormed away and the rest of us had laughed it off, but there were shifty eyes for the rest of that day. It had made me feel that whoever the phantom was, he was not a known member of the staff. But for all of that, the phantom had never seemed sinister to me growing up, although there were those in the opera house who thought him scary and evil, he seemed benign to me.
Could there actually be a phantom living below the opera house? Were phantoms real?
I laughed silently at myself. I believe in angels but not phantoms? I shook my head and tried to assemble the facts. I took my angel's hand. I woke up in this bed. I appeared to be in a cave, or perhaps...under the opera?
Was it possible my angel was the phantom and said phantom an angel? They both shared a love of opera music and both had exacting thoughts on how to carry out said music. I didn't want to let my conclusion run away with me, but to find out Angel might be the phantom of the opera... my whole childhood comforted by my angel came spinning back into my brain. Was the feared opera phantom truly responsible for bringing such light to my life?
It was troublesome to me that I couldn't bring his full image, whether angel or phantom, to mind and yet I must have spent some time with him before I slept? I could remember his music pulsing in my blood, only his music in my mind, and a white mask as a face...the rest was darkness. Why could I not remember something so important? Was he somehow truly a shadowy phantom angel?
I was heading out in search of the random music before I fully thought about my circumstance. In my robe, barely clothed and He was there, at the organ, relaxed, writing, a man as real as I was real. Could it be...?
There is no excuse for my poor manners. I eagerly tore away his mask, and in the process tore off his wings as well. The man who raged at me was not my angel, could not even be mentioned in the same sentence. I huddled in fear and shame. He was hideous! He wore a mask because his face was a death's head...Joseph Buquet was telling the truth...
My eyes could not un-see that face! It was terrible to behold, ghastly and unreal, but the thing that knifed my heart was the fear I read in his deep set eyes the moment I stripped away the cover. Fear in me, and horror that I would so callously tear away his trust...
Tears pressed my eyelids, and I wished my self back to my bed, back to the other bed, just away...but his beautiful voice finally stopped yelling and began curling into a mournful song. His familiar velvet croon soothed my nerves and his words echoed within me.
Stranger than you dreamt it...
Stranger than I had ever dreamt...
A stranger...
I glanced at the man huddled before me, his voice so similar to my omnipotent angel, I briefly lied to myself that this stranger was not my angel, only because I couldn't mesh the two people together. My angel was all knowing, even arrogant in his superior intellect, calm, collected. This broken creature crawled toward me, but he spoke my name at the end of his pitiful song and his beloved voice was unmistakably his. No one said my name quite like my angel did.
I was terrified not only of him, in all his phantom glory, finally before me, but of the conflicting emotions that ravaged me. My hands trembled as I began to hold the mask out to him. He wanted it back, I could tell he wished to cover his terrible face, but then I childishly pulled it back. He tried to cover his face unsuccessfully with one hand as he glanced up at my changed movement, and the gesture was so painful to see, his inability to accept himself was so clear to me, that I couldn't allow him to cover himself up again, as if the mask could make everything better.
My thoughts were erratic and my heart pounded in my chest, but all I could think of was this stranger before me. Who was he? What was he feeling? Why did he yell at me so horribly? Who was this man, angel, phantom and friend? He sang of love and fear, in a halting manner, speaking of heaven and monsters, beasts and beauty...
"Angel?" I couldn't help the questioning lilt. I still was fuzzy on how exactly him and I had ended up in this moment, huddled on the cold floor, with him in tears and me holding his mask away from him in my lap.
His eyes met mine, and I felt the look like an arrow through my heart, all the sadness in the world in those stormy eyes...I could barely breathe at the intensity of his regard and I thought he surely must have heavenly powers to pin you with his gaze so thoroughly. I tried to keep my eyes only on his, but it was impossible not to notice the gaping black hole where there should have been a nose. How did he breathe? How did he sing so beautifully?
I lifted the mask so his eyes flicked to its white surface and then I set it carefully beside me. "I am deeply sorry for the way I took your mask, but I don't want you to hide from me, whoever you are, whatever you look like. It doesn't matter. I would like to know you." The words came so deep from my heart that I know my sincerity shone from within. I needed to know that Voice. I would never turn away from the music of this soul. I used that surety to ground me because my body was telling me to flee and run as the skull like features started to lower in anger. "Please?" I wasn't above begging and it began to look like he would argue with me. "You have no idea how many nights I have prayed that you would be real. I fantasized about it really. Imagined all the ways God would grant me a moment with my angel. This is almost too good to be true." I babbled and watched the features of this mystery man, lift in brief surprise before looking like he would laugh, but then he covered his face with both hands and spoke my name again.
"Christine..." His haunting voice tasted of tears and I couldn't stand his overwhelming sorrow. Why was my angel so sad? Without any thought to propriety or personal boundaries I shuffled forward quickly and embraced my huddled angel. His hands quickly lowered from his face and I realized I had rather provocatively placed my unbound breasts directly against the back of his hands as I put my arms around his head and shoulders. Of course, now we both realized his face was in my bosom and we quickly parted, to stare panting at each other. My tongue wouldn't work and I stared rudely at his strange visage as he seemed to want to stare at me too.
His bare face was frightening, but the more I bravely looked with only open curiosity, the more familiar it became. It happened very quickly I felt. It suddenly felt entirely normal that he would look this way, even with the hole where his nose should have been. The pale thin skin, stretched so tightly, sharply that his features gleamed as if they were only bone in the semi light. He didn't have any eyebrows and one eyelid drooped down to meet with whatever had happened to his lips! His lips traveled up into his nonexistent cheek, fat and bloated, like someone had played with his face as if it was no more than clay.
Yes. His face was a travesty but it was, after all, just a face. And the astonished look in his expressive eyes, like he couldn't fathom my calm reaction, helped me feel he had lived far too long without acceptance. Gone was the fictional fearsome phantom, gone the brief angry madman, gone was the unreachable, invisible angel. Here was a living, breathing dead man, with questions brewing in his eyes.
This whole experience reeled in my head, making perfect sense and yet making no sense at all. So I added to the absurdity by reaching out with my hand. "Hello, I'm Christine Daae."
I glimpsed humour in his mismatched eyes before he delicately joined our hands. "I know." His malformed lips pulling to one side were easy to see without that awful mask covering him and a smile pulled my lips apart, giving me the confidence to tease this unknown entity as his thumb stroked my hand in an experimental fashion.
"And who do I have the pleasure of meeting this evening?" I asked saucily watching his face as he looked up from our hands still linked in greeting to see the smile on my face. He didn't answer me, but I think it was because my smile took his breathe away. Literally took his breathe away. I watched him struggle to get air and then he met my growing worry with his disbelief.
"I never want to wake from this dream." He whispered it softly and my heart ached for my angel. As lost as I was in this new and terrifying kinship we were forging, he was floundering. What kind of life has he known?
"I admit I have thought myself dreaming a few times over this night, but I know I'm not. This is all too strange and fantastic to be only a dream. I'm really here with you, Angel. Do you have a name? I should dearly like to know it so I can stop foolishly calling you Angel." I was begging again, but I didn't seem to care. I also noticed we were still holding hands, but it felt so nice to be anchored to him that it didn't seem awkward at all. Also, if I was holding onto him then he wasn't about to disappear.
He was staring at the mask beside me, but I kept my eyes on his bare face, to show I was not frightened, and didn't care about the mask, and his gaze came back to mine.
"Erik." He said softly, almost in wonder, as our eyes communed our secrets. He couldn't believe he just told me his name, I could tell as much from his expression and although I loved to hear his true name and wanted to repeat it over and over, I moved on quickly.
"Are you also the Phantom?" Here he looked away as if ashamed.
"Yes."
"And my angel?" He looked back into my eyes and I didn't need him to answer, but he did very softly.
"Yes."
"Well..." I studied our hands for a moment and pondered the mysteries of my life. "Thank you."
"I beg your pardon?" He seemed confused by my thanks so I made myself clear.
"Thank you for caring for me. Thank you for bringing me back to the light, for bringing me back to life. Thank you for teaching me, and buying me things, and showing me that there is goodness in the world. As an angel that's all expected of you, but you are just ...just you...and I thank you for being there for me." I was squeezing his hand by the end of it because I didn't think I was conveying my thoughts properly. Would he understand? Could he understand?
"I...well...it was my pleasure. Thank you...for trusting...me." He seemed pained by his words and I took his one hand in both of mine.
"I'm a little star struck to meet you face to face. I thought you were too perfect to ever truly exist, and all my wishes and prayers would go unanswered. But you are here and have been here the whole time. I can't believe how lucky I am. I wish to be your student still, if it pleases you." I added quickly, unsure how he felt about this drastic change in our knowledge of one another. But he was the one to choose this path. He brought me through the mirror...why did he, come to think of it? He didn't seem ready for this level of intimacy, but here we were...
"It would please me greatly to remain as your instructor, and as...your friend." I think he was trying to smile at me, but with no flesh in his cheeks the sight was grim. Or perhaps he didn't really know how to smile and it was coming off more as a grimace.
"I would be honoured." I spoke seriously, but he trumped me with more angelic prose.
"No, Christine, you honour me with your acceptance, and after my deceitful behaviour and dishonesty. I am truly humbled by your constance." He bowed his head and it troubled me to see my formidable angel so cowed.
"You've given me so much..." I didn't want him thinking I only felt indebted. "And you move me with your song." But I didn't want him thinking I was besotted. "I am your friend. Always."
"I can still be your angel, if you prefer to not see..." He halted his telling words and moving on impulse I placed a hand on his withered cheek. He started and his eyes flashed, but I only smiled more. The sight of him before me exhilarated me to a painful degree, and I could see no negative outcomes to our having finally met. I was beyond excited that my angel was truly a man. It mattered little that he was the phantom as that was only pretend theater nonsense. Even the anger he showed when I removed his mask was easily forgiven since I now could see clearly why he wore the mask in the first place. How terrifying for him to live his life with a face like that.
"I would rather know you as Erik." Serenity filled me at the sound of his name on my lips, and he searched my face with bewilderment, trying to understand my actions and failing. He finally seemed to settle on action as he stood releasing me from his hold.
"Come, we must return."
"But I only just arrived?" I instantly regretted speaking, and stood with him, ready to leave if it was his wish.
"You...wish to stay?" His voice held his hesitance and I nodded eagerly.
"I've just found out that my beloved angel is a real, live, breathing man..." I couldn't think how to end that thought out loud so I let it hang in the air for a moment before continuing on. "I wish to stay as long as it is your wish as well, I don't want to burden you." My head was bowed but I kept my eyes on Erik's feet. His very normal looking feet, in normal looking shoes, helped to solidify that he was just a man. A man who looked like death warmed over...
He used the back of his fingers to raise my chin and I looked into his sad, strange face with trepidation. What was he thinking as he stared at my worried face? Who was this enigma that pretended to be both phantom and angel instead of just being himself?
"If you be a burden," his familiar precious voice came soothingly, "I would gladly carry you for all time."
My heart stretched with happiness to hear him so devoted to me, and I wondered if this phantom friend of mine had grown attached to me as I was to him. Did he care for me more than I dared to dream? I found myself staring at him and enjoying that his face was so ugly, whereas Raoul's perfect smile no matter who he spoke to had rubbed me the wrong way, Erik's hesitant friendship seemed so much more poignant since he didn't seem to have any friends.
"So...I am a burden?" I tried to lighten his heaviness and it worked slightly. His lips quirking to my delight.
"Yes. But gladly carried, don't forget."
Don't forget...He reminded me of my memory lapse so I asked since it seemed we were beyond hiding from each other. He didn't seem to want to tell me how he managed to get me wherever I currently was, but I didn't let it discourage me.
"If it's a long story we could sit down?" I gestured towards the fire where seats waited for us.
"Very well." He agreed and we settled down side by side after he tended the fire. He began without any preamble, getting right to the point. "I clouded your mind with my song to bring you down five stories below the opera house." Claustrophobia sprang quickly into my chest at the thought of all the earth above us, but I took a few deep breaths to center myself as Erik carried on. "I didn't realize it would be so effective in dulling your memory."
"Have you done it to me before?"
"There was a few times when you were much younger, but only to stop your weeping, and now that I am aware of the degree it affects you, I swear I will never use my voice upon you in such a manner again."
I believed him. How could I not with his terribly earnest face so close to mine? But having him speak of that moment when reality and fantasy blurred in my mind, only made me think of what came before that. Raoul had angered my angel and the only reason for him to bring me down here, beyond my dedication to our music, had to be far closer to the heart than either of us was ready to admit just yet. But that didn't mean I would ignore what happened either.
"I apologize for Raoul. We were friends as children so I think he felt his actions were not untoward. I do not entertain men in my dressing room. I realize how it must have seemed from the...other side of the mirror..." I stopped talking for fear of saying the wrong thing, but I needn't have worried. Erik was ready to talk to me, his grotesque, eager, bare face stared straight at mine, innocently reassuring me.
"Ask me anything you like. I will be as candid as possible." His eyes bored into me with such palpable hope, erasing the years of hiding from me all too quickly, that I just had to pick at it.
"There must be things you won't speak of?" How rude of me!
"Of course." He chided me with the same all knowing angelic essence in his voice, except this time I was privileged to see how his face softened toward me, and I felt the sight soften a part of me as well. "There will always be those things too painful to name."
Well, I saw no reason to dilly-dally. On to the most important question.
"Why did you pretend to be my angel of music?"
"It was only to comfort you in the beginning. After I began to teach you, your potential became obvious...I thought of revealing who I was, but...I knew I could make you a star, just as you dreamed of. Once you were out on that stage and I saw all the attention lavished upon you...It was difficult to watch from the 'other side of the mirror' as you put it."
"Is that why you finally revealed yourself to me? Were you afraid I would forget my teacher?"
He shrugged in a delicate way, glancing away from the fire. It cast a flickering light over his abnormal face and I wanted him to keep talking, so I could keep hearing my angel speak.
"Why do you pretend to be a phantom?"
"I cannot abide second rate music." I waited for more, for some other reason, power, extortion, something slightly sinister, but he sat patiently waiting for more questions.
"That's it?" There had to be more then that?
"I suppose the theatrical aspect matters as well. Without my help those two fools who run my theater would be bankrupt." I chuckled and carried on.
"Why all the notes? Why not get paid for your expertise?"
He gave me a look that said I was naive or foolish, or both. "My face, Christine. Always, my face."
I met Erik's gaze, his powerful hypnotic eyes causing my words to dry up. His gaze held me immobile as I took in the beauty that could be found in his eyes. They were gray-blue and tempermental as the weather, but one eye was half gold, a glimmer of sun on the horizon, making his eyes seem like different colours altogether.
I think if Meg were to analyze my behaviour, she would say that I practically swooned into his embrace, but I could not control the ache in my soul. I found my hands had a mind of their own as they roved over Erik so I could hold him with my head against his shoulder, my nose in his neck. He smelled of ink and paper, and cedar and dust. His hands did not come up to hug me back, if anything my touch seemed to suck the air and movement from his body, and after a few silent seconds I apologized and slid away from him.
"I'm sorry," I said again. "I'm being very forward. Mme Giry would scold me terribly. I have manners, I swear I do, somewhere..." Erik's hand suddenly touched mine, gentle as a butterfly, tentatively asking a silent question, and I responded as gently but firmly as I could, opening my fingers so our hands could mesh together. Our hands slid together and something so simple, I'd held hands with dozens of people and not felt a thing, but this felt like a glorious miracle. Music sang through me and I smiled at his hand meshed with mine. That was my angel's hand. I was holding hands with my angel. I rested my head on his shoulder and he didn't seem to mind. We stayed comfortably beside each other, staring at the fire until I think I fell asleep again. I woke with a snort as my head dipped and then released a nervous, startled laugh. The sound made Erik jump, but my hand remained firmly against his.
"I'm sorry! I fell asleep." I scolded myself for squandering this opportunity to pepper my real, tangible angel with questions. I just was so comforted by his presence that I wanted to go curl up in that round bed next to him and fall asleep.
"Christine should be back to her bed. Erik never should have brought her here." His words made me feel strange, as if someone was speaking through Erik, but then he sighed, and it sounded so exactly like my angel that I spontaneously hugged his arm to me.
"I am glad Erik brought me here. It's pretty, in a damp, soothing cave-like sort of way, and all the candles really add to the peaceful ambiance. I never realized the opera house was so deep under ground. Did you build this here? Never mind. Why would there otherwise be a home here. You must have built it. So what else have you built? I know you write music too, soulful heart wrenching music..." With this reminder of our many hours practicing music and his elusive song from last night, I turned to look at my teacher again. His horrendous face looked confused and sad, and the ache in my chest intensified.
"I...should bring you back above." Erik spoke slowly, as if resolving to follow through with his words, but I wasn't so eager to leave him. I was afraid if we didn't agree that this was a positive step forward in our friendship then he would revert back to our old ways and I couldn't allow it, I wouldn't allow him to hide from me again.
"I want to stay. In fact, I never want to be away from you." I said in a rush. He gazed at me, but I wasn't sure he was really seeing my resolve.
"What of your old friend? He will worry that you missed your appointment for dinner. He will cause problems. Erik's foolish actions have endangered us."
The thought of Raoul did feel odd. He didn't have a role in the opera I was living through right this moment. He was perhaps a catalyst to my angel revealing himself, but the more I thought of it, the more I knew that Raoul would never understand Erik. Raoul had led a life of privilege, of money, and he didn't even recognize me for weeks after he became a patron. It was only after Erik maneuvered me into the spotlight that Raoul took note of my familiar face. I had been only a dancer to him the day before, unimportant and forgettable, but as the star I suddenly garnered his attention? I could imagine him taking me to parties, showing me off, buying me lavish gifts, but it was a superficial life. It was not how I'd been raised. It was exactly how Raoul had been raised and so would seem normal to him, but I wanted more. I wanted a deeper understanding of love and how it can move you to behave in ways that were unorthodox. A profound sense of belonging with another person, not an existence that remained skin deep.
"Do we have to stay here?" Raoul would cause us problems now. Especially after my sudden disappearance. "Are there others you care for up above? We can just leave here and go make a life somewhere else. I can write to Mme Giry and Meg, we do not need to stay for me." But I was not the only person in our duo. "Do you like it here? If you want to stay I can figure out how to get Raoul off our backs. He can be pretty persistent though..." Erik looked a little shocked, like he was only half paying attention to me as his mind whirled in the background.
"Erik stays only for Christine. She is the light that Erik worships."
"And Erik is the music in Christine's blood." It sounded macabre and possessing, just as strangely uniting as his words, and Erik's eyes seemed to spark back to life.
"Your voice is sublime. A superior instrument of sweet perfection, ringing like..." I put my fingers on his malformed mouth to stop his flowery praise and he was stricken silent by my touch once more.
"And your voice has given me life, light, love..."
We were staring at one another, barely breathing, but our hearts hammered in harmony. I wasn't entirely sure why mine pounded so hard, perhaps my proximity to the skull that served as my angel's face. His lips moved only slightly as he spoke.
"Erik...me...that is...I..." He touched his chest lightly with his long spindly fingers, as his eyes bathed me in their glow. "This creature loves you, Christine."
I couldn't stop the wicked grin from spreading my lips apart. I knew in my heart as joy burst and enveloped that I loved him too. I'd loved him as an angel, and although seeing his malformed face had dampened my desire, I still terribly wanted to know him, be with him, hold him, marvel that he was real, feel his skin, his warmth, his love, his music. I wasn't sure where any of this would lead, but I wanted him on the path with me so badly that everything else was insignificant.
"And this creature," I touched my chest as my eyes conveyed my sincerity, "Loves Erik. You. My angel."
Tears welled in his eyes and rolled down his sunken cheeks. "Erik does not deserve such devotion, such pretty words. No one has ever loved Erik before..."
"I do." I smiled, but he only cried harder. I scrambled for something eloquent to say. "An angel once told me that there will always be those who push you down and step on your dreams, trying to diminish and destroy what they have no right to touch. One must bravely hold to their ideals and inner self, no matter what trials test your strength from the outside, you can rise above because inside you is a power so invincible that as long as you are being true to yourself, no one can harm you or strip you of your dream."
He sobbed, but I thought it had a laughing edge to it. "Words I spoke to a young girl afraid to pursue her dream of singing when she was already only a mediocre dancer."
"Hey now!" I gave him a playful pinch of reprimand.
"Your words, not mine! In my eyes, you are perfection..." And his wet eyes conveyed his spoken words with their adoring regard. "I will take you anywhere you wish, Christine."
My angel knew all about my desire to explore the world. I'd lived those fantasies out loud to his other worldly presence, along with many others, all the while harbouring my own secret fantasy that my angel could come to life.
And now here he was. Always had been. Alive, although his face didn't look it, and staring at me with a level of worship in those sunken eyes, that I didn't feel deserving of.
"Will we still sing and create music?" I wanted it said that music was very important to me, since I knew it was to him as well.
"Of course." He scoffed lightly.
"When can we leave? Tonight? I should go pack."
He chuffed and I realized it was his way of laughing. "We must warn a few people of your departure, but we should be able to leave by tomorrow evening."
"Sounds like a wonderful plan." I beamed.
His eyes were full of hope and light and I resisted the urge to muss his sparse, dark hair affectionately. He seemed unused to such easy touches, skittish as a kitten, and I had to remind myself to tread lightly.
"We must formulate the plan together. What will you tell your friend?" He said the word like it tasted bad and I schooled myself to keep a straight face. Now that I knew of Erik's impossible love, getting rid of Raoul would be easy.
"I could meet him in person and tell him I am much too devoted to my music to go to dinners with him or any other functions. Writing a letter won't be enough I'm afraid. He is quite keen to rekindle our friendship. I noticed him weeks ago when he first came, but found him changed. I watched how he behaved, how he preened, but he only took note of me last night, and now he thinks I've been waiting for him to notice me this whole time..." I could hear the bitter edge to my voice and I reminded myself that I had something much better than Raoul's fleeting affections, although every dancer above would think I am crazy.
I gazed up into Erik's terrible face and even though I was only beginning to know this unreal face, I trusted it completely. His emotions were too raw to be false, his feeling shone out from his eyes. He would never lead me astray, had always given sound counsel, would see to my safety and protection. Bottom line, he cared for me and I cared a great deal for who he represented in my life.
"I want to say goodbye to Meg too, and Mme Giry. And I need to pack. What must you accomplish before we leave? Can I help you at all?" I was earnest in my offer but he shook his head gently.
"I can manage my end. But I need one favour from you."
"What is it?"
"Please take a chaperone to your meeting with Raoul. I don't trust that fancy fop. You said yourself he has changed from how you knew him." It was adorable to watch his ghastly face fuss over my care and I was enjoying his concern until his brow began to furrow, his eyes darkening. "If I had a face, I would escort you myself..."
I found my fingers on his lips again, cutting off his ability to breathe, and sending his eyes wide with surprise. I gently touched the red bloated surface with a determined caress. "I see only my angel when I look at you." It was the truth. My angel happened to be a living corpse, but it was a small detail. His lips were warm and from the terrified look on his face, he more than likely didn't want me touching his mouth, half in his lap. I don't know why I was perversely wondering what his lips tasted like, but I knew I couldn't assault Erik to that degree. When he finally kissed me I wanted him involved and not shocked...
Did I just plan to kiss my angel? My living corpse phantom angel?
I sat back from him with a thud and my head felt light. Declaring my love for him was easy. I truly loved my angel. Declaring desire on the other hand...
Angels were above desire. But a man? A man with music in his soul that challenged mine to rise to the competition.
"You have always been so pleasantly distracting. But a chaperone is required for me to agree to this." He chided in his knowing angel tone.
"I will ask the Girys. One of them will help me, or both. Raoul wouldn't know what he got himself into." I laughed distractedly, and Erik noticed my inattention immediately.
"What are you thinking of, dreamer?" My angel repeated his oft spoken line and it brought a sad smile of remembrance to my face.
"Imagining the future and how far away it seems from this moment. And I think...we should sing now."
"Now?" He huffed and took out his pocket watch. I glanced at the face and saw it was in the wee hours. Perfect.
"Yes now, Erik." I was determined to get my way and began pulling him up, when I noticed my scandalous slip and robe combination again. "Do you have any clothing I could borrow? I'd like to go up to the roof with you and sing to the skies." My words emphasized by a large arm sweep at the cavern ceiling, and he mumbled about the chests in the bedroom with a flick of his fingers. He looked worried so I reassured him. "No one will be around. I promise."
"How can you know that?" He gained back some of his angelic air. "There are always people roaming about at all hours."
"Not up there. Too cold, I think. I've never ran into anyone when I go."
"When do you go up to the roof?" He sounded genuinely surprised.
"All the time, but usually in the middle of the night when I can't sleep, one, two, three o'clock." His brow was furrowed in concern as he imagined all my unchaperoned midnight trips to gallivant on the roof tops of the opera house. "I always felt safe because I had an angel watching over me, and it's silent as a tomb up there anyway. Let's go."
I started off toward the room I woke up in, hoping he would follow. Some of those chests did look like costume chests, so that must be where the clothing was...
"Christine Daae!" Angel Erik was cross with me and I scurried the rest of the way to the room and began searching for something suitable to wear in the gloom. "You cannot run away from me." He called out a few moments before he darkened the doorway.
"Nor would I. Could you light more lamps in here, Erik? It's too dark to see what I'm looking at." I hoped distraction would work, but I should have known better. He lit more candles as he lectured me about safety and traipsing about unattended during the witching hours. I didn't know how I could possibly want to kiss someone who acted so much like my father, but I silently let him rebuke me for my foolishness as I searched the crates.
I found many costumes from the opera house above and found a dress and cloak to fit me. They were a little fancy for my taste, with jewels and sequins sewn in wandering patterns to catch the stage lights, but because they were theatre clothing they were made for quick dressing. No complicated lacings or corsets to deal with and in my haste to ready myself I whipped off my robe right in front of Erik.
His shadow left the doorway with a scrambling sound and I called out to him. "I'm sorry! Don't go anywhere! Please! I will be fast."
I was, but Erik was not in the hall when I emerged. I found him crouched close to the piano and when he turned at my noisy step he had the white mask on his face. He rose to his full formidable height and straightened his clothing.
"I know you asked that I not hide from you, and I swear to you that is not my intention in donning my mask once more. This mask is to hide from the rest of humanity. Not from Christine."
"I understand." I nodded slowly and smiled encouragingly. "Ready?"
Erik led me through his magical kingdom up to the roof. We weaved through the walls and floors with ease and he held my hand to ensure I wouldn't slip or stumble. He looked back at me a few times, the white mask glowing in the darkness, and music tickled my memory...
Do I dream again? For now I find...
He was the phantom suddenly, stalking through his theatre, with his student on his heels. The roof could have been his idea with the way he forged us ahead, and it was unoccupied, as I'd promised. I released Erik so I could stretch out my arms and revel in the night air. He stood in shadows with his arms crossed over his chest and I danced around in the moonlight as I hummed to myself, warming up my throat while I cut glances at my newly acquired guard. The mask was too large, it covered his entire face except for a rounded cut out over his lip area. It did give him a false nose so the mask had its uses, but the eye holes made his deep set eyes seem even farther away, so the dislikes far outweighed its usefulness.
"I cannot believe you were coming up here alone." He finally spoke. "Your reckless behaviour..." He still sounded upset about it so I began to sing, hoping that he would feel the urge to join me, as he did so many times before.
"No more talk of things past, forget all of your fears. I'm here, with you, beside you, to love you and to guide you..." I let my words end, waiting breathlessly for him to weave his poetic words into a song that we could share.
His velvet tenor melded with the night and a rush of pleasure flooded my face to know it was a real, live man singing to me and not an untouchable angel. "All I want is freedom. A world with altered sight, and you, always beside me, to love me and to guide me..."
Our voices blended as one, sending shivers down my spine as we spoke of spending our lives together, walking side by side, he my guardian, and me his guide. Striving to claim a life his face denied.
We would succeed. I felt it like I felt my own heart, beating down the centre of my being as we unleashed our love of song to the sky. With him beside me, I could fly.
He slowly came towards me as we sang and in the moonlight the mask gleamed brightly, innocently hiding the horror beneath, but I found myself wanting to see the emotion his raw features held. I'd quickly become addicted to the grotesque sight of him. He was my mystery to discover, and mine alone. It was easy to assume I was the only person to ever accept his bare face with his dramatic reaction to everything that happened this evening. When he arrived just opposite me I automatically lifted my hand to hold one of his. Although our singing had ceased I felt as if the music kept on. My heart hummed with happiness and I dreamed that we would travel to Italy, Russia, the Orient and beyond. We would explore the world, making music and finding peace with each others company.
"Softly, gently, night unfurls its splendour..."
My body was already swaying in time as Erik began to sing with animation in his golden vocals.
"Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender..."
My angel made love to me with his song. It was the only way to describe what I experienced in those moments he touched me gently and sang of the music of the night. The song seemed to already reside within me as we danced around the roof together, and I sang with him off and on, the sky a witness to our impossible love. My heart and soul soared when he commanded them to and when he finished a very long last note I turned, spellbound, wanting to see his beloved visage before me. I saw the benign white mask on his face and wanted to rip it off all over again.
Instead it gave me a wicked idea that I wasted no time in implementing. I caught his masked face between my hands and kissed the cheek of the mask, one was not enough and I planted a dozen over every part of his mask I could reach. I hoped to encourage its removal and also let him know that kissing was part of our friendship now. I met his eye bravely and he was the one who looked spellbound now.
"You are a sorceress." His hands were more confident after his song and they slipped about my waist to hold me against his body possessively.
"Sorceress?" I laughed lightly lifting my hands to his chest where I may have cuddled myself closer. "I cannot perform magic."
"The magic you speak of is only slight of hand." He snapped his fingers and a plump red rose sat in his palm, which he promptly tucked into my hair. I reached up to touch the velvety petals with awe. "The magic you hold can change a person, change his attitude, change his stubborn mind. That is a powerful magic." He gazed at me as he ran his fingers over my hair and temple in a loving caress.
"And how have I changed your stubborn mind?"
"I find myself regretting that I replaced this mask." I thought maybe he was trying not to smile behind the mask and it drove me crazy that I could see nothing of his face. Just this blank farce with burning eyes, and a glimpse of his lips moving.
"Take it off then. Treat it like an accessory. On one moment, off the next. Face is cold. Face too hot." I kept my quips short and supportive because my heart was hammering again.
"Very well..." He half turned and slid it from his face, tucking it into a pocket of his cloak. Immediately his profile changed to the flat familiar gaping hole and his eyes flicked to mine for reassurance. A smile played with my lips but I was concentrating too hard on Erik to rejoice in my victory. I brought his hands back around my waist and then put my hands on top of his arms, looking up into his living face with breathless anticipation.
He held me against his body, his fingers dragging up and down the curve of my back, as he gazed indulgently at me. "This is the start of a new life together."
"I look forward to every moment."
"You will sing for me and I will write glorious songs for you."
"I will help make music of the night..." I couldn't help copying his beautiful tune and this time it was his hands that bracketed my face. He seemed slightly scared of his actions and I serenely watched his expressive twitches as he brushed his lips on my forehead. His eyes were closed in concentration and as much as I wanted to close mine and revel in the intimacy of this shared moment, I wanted to watch my angel become a man. His bloated lips met my brow a few more times until he figured out how to purse his malformed mouth in such a way to press a stamp of love upon my hairline. Tears gathered in my eyes as I thought of how easy giving a kiss was for me. I'd given and received hundreds of kisses in my life. These fumbles must be Erik's firsts.
His lips tentatively met my temple and cheek, turning my face one way and then the other way so he could place a careful kiss on that temple and cheek as well. It was painfully sweet to feel the hesitance in his actions, his disbelief, his simmering joy. I took charge and turned my lips up to receive his. He paused there with his eyes still closed, for he felt me turn towards him, he had to know I wanted to taste his lips and I felt the heat flush through me as all this tension rippled my hands up to hold his face too.
His eyes shot open then and we stared, a scant inch between our open mouths. I dreamily wanted to close that distance, but my touch on his face had frozen him again so I waited somewhat impatiently for him to gain his breath and courage once more. He finally did in song form.
"Beyond the point of no return..."
I was a little strained from this power struggle and so didn't comprehend his wording. "If by return, you mean to how it was before, then you can just forget that nonsense! There is no way I'm going to pretend I don't know you exist when my very soul dances to the intimate music inside of you..."
His lips cut off any further ranting and my brain melted as my angel crossed over and became the man in my arms. I gathered him to me in my fever to feel all of him, but he quickly broke away. We searched each others face, I don't know why he searched mine, but I searched his to make sure he was still alright and not suffering an attack. This was a lot of touching and he could get overwhelmed if I drew him down to my lips for another kiss...
But it was he who leaned in and pressed his newly learned purse upon my waiting mouth. I eagerly kissed him back, pressing my lips to his over and over to make sure each rough and soft surface felt the brush of my lips, just as his mask had.
I couldn't help giggling as I nuzzled into his neck, embracing him to my heart. I could feel his heart pounding and he was trembling too as he kept a tight grip on me, his long hands splayed over my back.
"Marry me?" He asked breathlessly, and I pulled back to look up at him, radiant joy effusing my expression.
"Yes! I will." I nodded until his hands bracketed my face once more to bring our lips together. His kiss was sweet and soft, like he thought he was over stepping his welcome, but had to kiss me again, try it again. I started smiling too widely to keep our lips connected so I started babbling happily. "I will marry you, Erik Angel. We were meant to be together, meant to make music together, meant to soar through life on the wings of our song."
"My last name is not Angel." He chuffed at my exuberance.
"And what will my new surname be, good sir?" My grin was catching apparently, as his
one side curled upward.
"Lauzier." The name swirled prettily on his tongue, and when I repeated it in my head it suited my name perfectly.
"Well, Erik Lauzier. It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance and to become your fiance." I laughed out loud and the joyful sparkle in his face couldn't just be the moonlight dancing on his features.
"Anywhere you go let me go too. Christine Daae, I love you."
o-o-o
Now for some Erik POV – just because I wanna...
o-o-o
I stood on the other side of the mirror watching Christine's face as she let down Raoul gently. He tried to bully her into complying and my fingers twitched for action, but Christine laughed off Raoul's pressing and told him pointedly to mind his own business. They haven't known each other for years, he didn't know her at all, she was devoted to her inner music, he should remember that about her...
She spoke about her dedication to music. Raoul would think she meant actual music, but I felt as if music somehow equalled me in her mind. Her face was radiant with happiness and I should have told her to try to tone it down a little in front of the fop. Any man would find her stunning in her joy, let alone an old friend who knew the goodness her heart held.
My heart ached and I had to put my hand there to stem the pain I felt. How could she still look at me as if I was her angel? How could she keep that love and devotion in her eyes while looking at my travesty of a face? She even kissed...
I glanced at Mme Giry who was listening to every word Christine spoke with a steely gleam in her eye. She was fact checking and trying to ascertain if Christine was being coerced in any way. Meg sat to one side of Christine with a vacuous look on her face. I wasn't sure what Christine had said to the two ladies since I was below gathering what we would need for our journey when she approached them. Getting Raoul to meet her had been easy as well since his feathers were so ruffled by her departure last night. He looked to have not even gone home and I was glad I never delivered those phantom notes I wrote to go along with Christine's disappearance. It would seem her departure caused enough trouble without any notes to fan the flames.
I felt so centred since singing with Christine on the roof, and the unexpected after math of her lips pressed to my mask. That one gesture of her pure love had rotated my axis enough to see her love for me had transcended my sudden existence and my face, to remain unscathed. In this cold dark uncaring world I had the light of her love to see us through. My face no longer mattered since it seemed to matter little to her. I couldn't fathom the stomach it must take to stare at my grotesque image, even I could not stare into a mirror for long, but Christine could gaze at me like I held the stars in my eyes. She pressed her sweet lips to my disgusting...
I turned away with one hand on my mouth, gagging at the thought of kissing myself. What a rare treasure I have been given? She will be properly worshipped and protected.
I leaned close to the mirror and glared at Raoul's smooth face while he tried to find out where Christine was travelling to. We had both agreed that we must tell him of her plans to leave the opera, so he wouldn't bother those left behind overly much. She reminded him that he was being nosy and my lips turned up at her adoring rudeness. She just said whatever she pleased, had always been blunt and overly chatty, although clever enough to know when not to open her mouth. Just the sort of person a brooding melancholy man needs to brighten his lonely days.
The ring glinted on her finger and I could hardly believe she was wearing the ring I'd purchased for her. A ring that she was not ever to know about or see. A ring that now symbolized her constance and my never ending idolatry. We seemed to worship each other, which was fine by me since her love was much warmer then anything I'd ever received from God.
Raoul stood to pace as he named off the reasons why Christine should remain in Paris and she glanced at me, where she thought I might be and rolled her eyes, giving a small smirk before schooling her features as he turned. Laughter huffed in my lungs and I found I was becoming used to the feeling. Christine had the power to alter my attitude toward life, toward myself. She gave me the strength and support to reach for a life and I was forever grateful for her strength.
She had long been the only light in my life and I had very nearly tarnished and dimmed that light with hasty actions. When I clouded her mind last night and brought her through the mirror I hadn't been thinking clearly. I was jealous of the attentions lavished upon her and angry that I couldn't be the first to congratulate her success. I was confused by Raoul's visit, when she had often assured me she was devoted to music. To see her so excited to see the man that now paced her room, I'd wanted to trade places with him. I'd hated him immediately for being where I wanted to be. For being real to Christine.
And then we sang to each other as angel and student and I knew that with music I could always have Christine all to myself. With barely another thought I'd brought her through the mirror to meet me for the first time, her mind clouded and her body scantily dressed.
Without even trying, without being aware, she wove her gentle spell of acceptance over me, I only had to be in her presence to feel her power over me. My desire to make her mine had overwhelmed my every sense. I'd sung to her, touched her delicately, worshipping her form while she was powerless to resist. When I thought of it now, it seemed like rape and though we repeated and improved on our strange duet up on the roof, I couldn't forgive myself for those innocent touches. I was glad she had no memory of my blunders. A Christine doll in a wedding dress? Why would I show her that?
I did pack the wedding dress since we would need it soon, but placed the doll in my coffin, closing the lid with finality.
My old life was dead. My new life shone like a beacon as she escorted Raoul firmly to the door, saying goodbye with a trilling laugh before slamming the door. She thanked Mme Giry and Meg for witnessing and then stood before the mirror with her hands on her hips. I could see she was afraid I wasn't on the other side, she was trying to hide her fear, but I read it in her eyes.
"Come out, come out where ever you are?" She singsonged to cover her worry and I made sure my mask was in place before sliding the mirror out of the way. She leapt into my embrace and Mme Giry took hold of her daughter as I ushered Christine back into her room so the mirror could close.
"Ladies." I nodded in their direction, noting that they both looked frightened. "I commend you on keeping your patience, Christine. He really is full of himself to presume to tell you what you can and cannot do."
"I know!" She laughed again and let her hand trail down my chest. "He really was too much, although it was nice to see that he is well. Papa did always like the Raoul from that other time, in another far off place." Both the Girys looked confused and I smirked behind my mask. I was blessed with understanding Christine's rambles. It was only part of the gift we were discovering in each other.
"Well, I didn't care much for him."
Christine smiled up at me with a mischievous light. "If not for Raoul, I never would have met you face to face, knowing how stubborn you are, so I will always hold Raoul close to my heart for being so brash." Her lips pursed easily to set a kiss upon my ear since the rest was covered and she mumbled for my ears only. "But not too close. Don't be silly."
Love is a powerful force, a driving force, a destroying force, a rebuilding force. It takes on many faces just as I can change my face to suit our needs.
She prefers to see my deformity when we are alone, spouting some nonsense about my emotions and reading my features, knowing it is me for certain instead of wondering who resides behind the mask. She acts as if I am still her angel and perhaps in a sense I never stopped being her angel. I still care for her in the same way except I now have a much deeper understanding of love and devotion, of loyalty and sacrifice.
We will be married soon, and I can imagine that our lives will continue to be as easy as the beginning was. Christine has saved me from my lonely life of darkness in more ways than one. She will have anything her heart desires and at the moment, her heart desires me above all else. Who would have ever thought that I, Erik, deformed phantom of the opera and part time angel, would end up with the most beautiful talented wife in all the world?
It feels as if my life is ending, the life I knew, where I existed for so long, it is all coming to an end so fast. Our wedding will be a new birth for me and the journey I embark on with my Christine at my side is a beginning that I never imagined. Song bird and phantom angel destined to raise our song together, forever more.
o-o-o
Blunt ending but I ran outta juice...and time. And I apologize if there are mistakes or it doesn't flow in places...I wrote it kinda fast and then just posted my blurbing. Hope you enjoyed my rambles! Leave a lil hello to let me know :)