A/N: As an apology for taking so long on the last chapter - and as a thank you for sticking with me - I thought I'd get Chapter 15 up right away. This one came without much fighting from either Erik or Ang. I'm kind of afraid of what they're plotting - they never get along this easily. Anyone else have a problem with their characters hijacking the story without permission, or is it just me? LoL
The poor woman's body was taut as a bow string and Erik feared her frail body might snap if her muscles tightened any further. When those tremors began to shake her entire form, his insides cramped. He was mildly certain it was not he whom she feared, and given what a frightening visage he was, her terrors must be horrifying.
"Be still, mon petit ange."
Tears were shimmering in her eyes, and he wasn't sure he could handle another onslaught of broken emotion. He did the only thing he was fairly sure would calm her...
His lips parted and he sang softly, just under his breath, a melody without words with the silent hope that it would soothe the unspoken fears that haunted her. It had the desired effect; she slowly slipped into a light trance. Her gaze gradually became distant and unfocused before her eyes slid closed; her body swayed ever so slightly where she sat. Biting back a satisfied smile, he turned to her injuries again while the hypnotic song drifted from his lips.
Now then, her legs. Her wounded legs. Her very naked, wounded legs. Erik forced his voice to remain even and unwavering, lest any falter in it may break the tenuous peace that had fallen over her, but he was far from steady inside. His hands trembled, and he clenched them into fists several times, willing them to stabilize. He had never had the opportunity to be so intimate with a woman before, not unless he wished to force himself upon her.
But she was different.
His angel was conscious and didn't hide herself from him, hadn't screamed in demand that he take his hideous form elsewhere. In fact, she had admitted that she wanted his company, and that the lack of had propelled her into the dark depression which now held her in bondage. Perhaps she didn't say so in as many words, but the implication was there: she wanted him to stay!
Part of him wanted to crow with pride, to rejoice to the heavens and frolic about like some love-sick pup. But as much as he wanted to shout his excitement, he maintained an exterior of tranquility. First things first, he had to play physician, and he was, for the second time since this mystery woman fell into his life, thankful he spent so many hours pouring over those medical volumes.
Using a clean handkerchief, he gently wiped away the flecks of dried blood left behind from what must have been earlier self-mutilation. Greater attention was paid to those deeper slices that still wept, the diluted blood oozing in small rivulets down her thighs. His heart raced and desire pooled low in his belly, but Erik was a gentleman. He would not simply take because he could. The very idea was abhorrent to him! If he had, he would have been no better than the thugs who had initially attacked her above ground.
No, as much as he wanted to touch, to taste, to take, he refused. Instead, he calmly smoothed a salve over the wounds, his touch feather light as it whispered across her skin. He proceeded slowly, reluctant to allow this precious moment to end. He took his time placing the bandages and wrapping them about her legs, expert fingers deftly tying dainty knots to keep the strips from slipping out of place.
He continued to sing as he gathered the supplies and replaced them in the basket he'd carried in. There was nothing left to do but allow his pretty charge to awaken and return to herself, but he simply didn't want to let her go. His eyes drifted over her face, drinking in the wondrous sight of her: the delicate curve of her jaw, the curl of dark lashes, the perfect cupid's bow in raspberry colored lips, he even noticed a light smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the apples of her cheeks.
At some point as he studied her, his singing ceased, and silvery eyes drifted open, the comforting spell woven over her broken for the time being. Ang watched in amusement as a pair of amber colored eyes skipped over her features, his thin lips parted just a little. She held herself still, and when his gaze returned to her eyes and saw her watching him, she noticed the smallest little jolt of surprise. Her eyes shimmered.
"It's rude to stare," she whispered, parroting the words she'd heard him say at least twice throughout their acquaintance.
He sat back and busied his hands with the basket. "Oui. I was only... erm... assessing you... for..."
"I was teasing," she gently interrupted. "It's fine. I'm not mad." Her gaze dropped to her legs and she smiled a little. "My legs don't hurt anymore. Thank you, Monsieur."
He bobbed his head stiffly before standing and taking the basket up in his arms in a single, fluid motion. He turned to the door.
"Y-you're leaving me?" Ang squeaked, fear swelling in her voice.
He paused and glanced back at her from over one shoulder. "I am only replacing this. I will return in a moment." He held her gaze, then added, "I promise."
Only after she nodded did he take his leave, and Ang settled back against the pillows to wait. Her attention turned to the meal long since forgotten on the tray by the bed. Leaning over, she poked a one of the rolls, wrinkling her nose upon discovering it was hard as a rock. How long had it been sitting there?
Then again, how long was she asleep? Had she been asleep at all? She vaguely remembered him bringing the basket in and setting it on the bed, then... nothing. Her brows furrowed as she tried to regain the missing part of her time line, and still came up empty. He hadn't harmed her, of that she was confident: her wounds were cleaned and covered, and they didn't hurt. Nothing hurt, as a matter of fact.
She felt... nothing. As if she was numb, physically and emotionally. The realization tugged her lips into a frown.
When Erik returned, she was in the same position as before, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly frowning, eyes distant and lost in thought. He'd brought with him a fresh tray of food and drink, but upon seeing her expression, the tray was set at the foot of the bed before he came to perch beside her.
"Mon ange? What has happened?" She seemed well enough when he'd left her, the strange illness that had gripped her dissipating. But it had overwhelmed her during his brief absence. "Do you feel ill?"
"No," Ang answered, slowly shook her head. Her breath left her lungs in a long, silent sigh. "I don't feel... anything."
He peered at her curiously. "What is it you should feel?"
"I don't know. Something, at least. But I... it's like I'm a blank page in a book, waiting for someone to finish writing. And there's just... nothing." She frowned again. "I'm not making any sense. Sorry."
Erik hung his head. "You make much sense. This is my fault. My neglect caused this destructive ennui in you."
Her hand reached for his, then she changed her mind halfway there and replaced it in her lap, her gaze dropping to her fingers as they played with a fold in her chemise. "No, it's my fault. I landed in your life without permission, without invitation. I shouldn't be here in the first place. I don't belong here." You don't belong anywhere.
It was a slow, calculated movement, his gloved hand reaching out to cover hers, and he waited until her eyes slowly lifted to meet his. "Ah. Now that is where I think you are wrong, mon ange."
They held each other's gazes for a long, drawn out moment, time standing still as they shared the silence. All at once, Erik stood and left the room, only to return half a minute later with a long navy blue silk dressing gown draped over one arm and a black wool cloak clasped about his shoulders. "Come."
"Come where?"
He wrapped the robe around her shoulders. "Put this on," he ordered lightly, and only once she fed her arms through the sleeves and laced it closed in front did he stoop over to slide his arms beneath her shoulders and knees, lifting to bear her across his chest.
"I don't really feel like going anywhere," she protested.
"I do not recall asking for your permission," he countered as he walked with her down the steps and across the main cavern.
"So you're kidnapping me from my room?"
"My room, I think."
Ang scowled. "I told you I would leave."
"Oui, and it is out of the question."
"But if you don't want me there-"
"You are making words in my mouth. Now, taisez-vous."
He didn't need her to hold onto his neck to aid in keeping her aloft; for such a thin man he was remarkably strong. So she folded her arms across her chest and gave a little huff. She still didn't speak French, but she was pretty sure he'd just told her to shut up.
He walked down one corridor, then another, the flames in the sconces magically winking into existence as he approached. She hadn't been this far, or rather, she didn't think she had. Then again, it was impossible to know one direction from another.
One can get quite hopelessly lost if one does not know the path, or have a guide who does.
The sound of rushing water grew louder, like a waterfall somehow existed somewhere down below. She supposed if there was a lake, there could plausibly be a waterfall, as well.
"You are so quiet, like a mouse," came the deep voiced, lilting remark.
"Well, you told me to... 'teh-say-voo'. So, I'm teh-say-voo-ing."
That earned her a puzzled glance before he sighed and shook his head. "Before we do much else, you must learn to speak français."
"But you already speak English."
"Oui."
"Why do I need to learn French if you speak English?"
"Because it is polite."
"And... because you want me to?"
"Oui."
She smirked a little. "Hard to argue with that logic." Part of her quailed at the idea of him being her teacher, fearful that he might issue another ultimatum such as he did when he wanted to hear her sing. If she didn't learn to speak French, would he starve her again? He wasn't exactly known in literature for his gentleness, and she could testify to it first hand. Her body stilled as she turned the thoughts over in her mind.
Erik sensed her disquiet and gave her body a light, encouraging squeeze. "Whatever you are puzzling over, leave it for a moment, and look. There." He nodded his head forward in reference.
Ang's gaze swung around; her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat.
… I remember there was mist, swirling mist upon a vast, glassy lake. There were candles all around and on the lake there was a boat...
The movies and plays couldn't come close to the wonder she beheld. There was, indeed, a lake, one that stretched on so far that she couldn't see the other side. An Italian gondola floated atop the surface at the water's edge, eagerly awaiting passengers. The stone underfoot had given way to soft dirt, roots, and moss, and trees grew right up from the ground on the banks of the magical lagoon, some stretching high while others were content to dip their long weeping branches into the water. While she knew it was impossible, the room gave the illusion of having no ceiling at all, and she could have sworn there were twinkling pinpoints of light dotting the vast darkness overhead. Several large iron candelabras, taller than a man, stood out the water, each with at least a dozen branches, flames dancing upon the wick of each taper candle, bathing the lake and its river offshoot in a warm, golden glow. The chill she usually felt down below was chased away by the heat from the candles, a warmth that soaked deep into her bones.
She exhaled in astonishment. "Where are we? Is all this under the Opera House?"
"The Opéra Garnier is above all this," he corrected. "This was here first."
"This is impossible," Ang breathed, afraid to speak any louder lest her voice shatter what she was certain was a mirage.
"I assure you, it is quite real and entirely possible," Erik assured her, carrying her to the boat. Gently setting her on a bench within, he stepped inside and pushed off, taking up a long, sturdy pole that hid on the floor the length of the boat. Standing on the bow, he set the pole deep into the water and pushed them along.
As he propelled them leisurely through along, her eyes remained wide in fascination in awe. A symphony of crickets chirruped around them, quieting as the intruding pair approached, then resuming their song once the presumed danger of the boat had passed. At one point, she swore she heard a frog croaking somewhere nearby.
"All we're missing are fireflies," she whispered to herself with a smile. Twisting round on the seat to peer behind her revealed a collection of thick pillows piled at the back of the boat, and with a wiggle, she slipped backwards off the bench into the cushioned heap. From there, she could still take in the wonders around her but in better comfort, although between the rhythmic stirring of the water from Erik's pole and the swaying of the boat, she could feel her eyes growing heavier. As much as she wanted to absorb everything, she couldn't deny how sleepy it was making her. As her eyes drifted closed, she missed the mischievous smile that curled Erik's lips as he softly hummed.
The sweet lullaby continued its even cadence as she drifted peacefully through empty dreams, lovingly cocooned in a blanket of blissful unawareness. A hand combed its way lovingly through her hair, gently dispelling the tangles that had knotted it for days, until it was smooth and shining once again. Even then, its actions did not cease; it continued to pass through strawberry blonde tresses, occasionally brushing her neck as it passed by. She was so snug, so comfortable, so safe.
"Angelique... Angelique... Ouvre tes yeux..."
A delicious warmth bathed the skin of her face, like feeling the first rays of the spring sun after a long, harsh winter. Her lips curved gently in a sleepy smile at the memory.
"Mon ange, it is time to awaken."
The voice rumbled against her ear, and eventually, her eyes fluttered reluctantly open. She was tucked into Erik's side, the excess folds of his cloak draped protectively around her thin figure, her head cushioned against his shoulder. Whether she anticipated seeing her tiny bedroom back home or the opulence of the borrowed chamber concealed in the depths beneath the opera, Ang couldn't say. But what greeted her was beyond expectation.
All of Paris was spread out before her! The elaborate cathedral loomed in the distance. Giant trees bore the remnants of their spring blossoms and new summer foliage. Criss-crossing avenues bustled with carriages as they ushered people into their homes for late suppers or parties while vendors wearily pushed their carts back to storefronts before closing time. If all had been still, she might have believed she was looking at an old historical photograph edited in full color, but it was real!
And the most resplendent of all was the setting sun, shining its golden light into her face as it painted the heavens in a glorious array of brilliant colors, streaking the west with fiery oranges and pinks while the east faded into lavender and azure.
Both hands clasped themselves against her heart as she beheld the landscape. The remaining darkness which clung to her dissipated, chased away by the glory of the sunlight. After being underground for weeks on end, it was almost overwhelming.
Erik's head bent over her shoulder, lips murmuring against her ear. "I have lived in the shadows for so long, I fail to remember that no one else is suited to it. Will you pardon me for neglecting you, your need for the light?"
Ang twisted to look up into his eyes. Gone was the rage and hatred that had often filled his eyes. Any trace of the monster he could be had been erased, and in its place sat a man as broken and lonely as herself, desperate to forge some sort of connection with another soul.
Her posture relaxed, and she smiled softly. "Oui. I pardon you."
A/N: Thanks to everyone who are still following my random scribbling, and an extra hug to those who started following it. The validation is awesome! I feel like I don't totally suck at this writing thing! xoxo
To DaniJade – I know your pain! I binge read pretty much anything I pick up and am always disappointed when I get caught up! I hope I won't make any of my readers wait as long as they had to for chapter 14. That was way too long to go between new posts.
To Lunacat – Thanks so much for taking a chance on this! Every OC I have ever written is majorly flawed in at least a few ways; glad you agree with it. I always feel that it makes a story more interesting when the reader gets to witness a character's growth and journey. As for Erik, I'm interested to see how he handles her issues, as well – my characters tend to surprise me more often than not and rarely tell me what they're thinking!
To mynemya – Thank you for reading it and taking the time to leave a review – my heart always smiles when I see I have a new review!
To PhantomBove – You, my friend, are totally biased, but thank you! After the headache the last chapter gave me (us), I'm glad it came out so well!