Disclaimer; I am neither Andrew Lloyd Webber nor Gaston Leroux.
Author Note: Hi everyone! Here's the first proper chapter to the story; it takes place a year after the prologue. This chapter will introduce you to the new addition to Erik's "crew"; his name is a real Romany gypsy name meaning 'small'. I consider him to be the less sensible/do-the-right-thing version of Nadir; Nadir is the righteous little angel on Erik's shoulder and this new character the well meaning but sometimes morally questionable devil. :-)
Thank you to the lovely people who reviewed; Filhound, Eriks Guest and TMara. Glad you guys like it :-D
And now, without any further rambling, onto the chapter!
One- Old Faces
(A year later...)
The rain was pounding mercilessly against the defenceless ground, as if every drop were a watery bullet from the angry clouds. Even one second stood in the ferocious downpour was enough to leave the two bedraggled riders and their weary mounts soaked to the skin, the cold of the rain chilling them to the bone and slowly freezing their skin until it turned mottled purple in protest, despite their attempts to layer-up against nature's wrath. The horses weaved their heads uncertainly as an ominous, low grumble of thunder echoed around the grey clouds, snorts of visible breath coming agitatedly from their nostrils.
The two riders didn't want to have to stop for the night- the thought of a warm inn, with food and beds, was enough to make them salivate with desire but if they stopped, they would waste valuable time and money; both things they could not truly spare. But as another angry clap of thunder resounded around them, making the horses fidget and paw at the sludge beneath their hooves, they gave in to the relentless force of the weather and began to search for the nearest inn.
The well-travelled pair had braved far worse than a thunderstorm on the wild goose chase that had occupied them entirely for the last year. It was doomed to continue for longer, no doubt dragging them through far worse than what they had already experienced; sleeping rough in the deathly cold, fleeing from bands of thieves and cut-throats, barely surviving on the bare minimum of food and suffering embarrassing illnesses due to the poor quality of the stuff they forced down their protesting gullets. It felt like a failure of the worst kind, giving in to a bout of thunderous rain, but secretly they were both pleased that tonight they might even have a good night's sleep.
After a few more soggy miles of riding through the unfamiliar territory, they came to a small village sat on the fringes of thick deciduous woodland, almost concealed by the grasping branches of greenery. The settlement, with its quaint collection of cottages and perilously sunken cobbles, seemed abandoned as they rode through it, savouring the sound of horses' hooves on real stone cobbles, a distant memory from days in Paris, with comfort and luxuries. But the quiet look of the place was a deceitful as the mask that hid the deformed flesh of one of the two riders.
Erik and Nadir eventually came across what appeared to be the only inn in the village, barely managing to stagger down from the saddle and hand each bedraggled horse to an obliging stable boy. They looked up at the seething mass of thick cloud above them, still spitting rain bullets at the earth, and so with one last look towards the empty road, they turned and made their weary path into the inn. The scene inside was the opposite to the deserted feel of the village; it was bright and vibrant, the sound hitting them like a wall of noise, and the warmth that greeted them seemed to ease and dull their aches and pains. It seemed rowdier than they had both expected- every table was crammed with people, and they tried not to gawp as they took in hairy men and scantily clothed women, all gambling and drinking and laughing away about everything and nothing.
Erik finally managed to come to terms with this slap in the face from civilisation, dragging the staring Nadir through the heat and the noise to the bar, where a disgruntled looking man stood watching his full house with an oddly grim expression.
"Bloody gypsies." He muttered darkly under his breath as one group of the brightly clothed people began to throw scarily large knives at the wall, as if in a contest of some description. "Coming into this village, causing a scene, making a racket, scaring the villagers to death with their evil eyes. I tried to ask them to quieten down, you know, perfectly polite and civil. And what did I get? A great big knife waved before my eyes, that's what! Bunch of murderous tramps, they are. Though this lot seem worse than most. Gah."
Nadir coughed lightly, and the man stopped ranting under his breath and reached for an old cloth, which he began to wipe the miserably sticky bar top with, his eyes still drifting over to the gypsies sprawled over the bar ever few moments.
"So, gentlemen, how can I help you today?" he asked, his voice instantly less venomous as he took in their relatively normal appearance. "If you're wanting rooms, we have plenty. That disgusting bunch only wants to come in here to gorge the wine and scare the regulars. Traveller scum."
The venom of the barman was so astonishing that Nadir had to smother his snort of disbelief with a deep cough, making Erik roll his eyes and slap the Persian hard on the back, warning him to stop being such an immature fool. The barman raised an eyebrow, inviting their response with an air of superiority that was just a little more than irritating.
"Two rooms, if you would. Just for tonight." Erik spoke in a perfectly amiable tone, keeping his voice low and warm. However, his efforts to be polite and civil soon seemed worthless as he noted the barman's preoccupied gaze- his eyes were lingering on Erik's face, searching the odd looking flesh with curious bewilderment. Erik could see the puzzle in the man's gaze- he could tell that his ignorant brain was trying to fathom just why his customer was wearing a badly made and highly uncomfortable flesh coloured facial covering, and at that moment Erik was thankful that he had relented and agreed to wear this abominable thing as opposed to his old, bright white mask that would have immediately ruined his discretion and alerted the man to his past as the notorious Phantom of the Opera.
But didn't he know it was rude to stare? The polite tone was gone from Erik's capability, and the battle to control his rage must have become apparent in his yellow eyes, as the man paled and began to twist the cloth nervously in his sweaty grip.
"Of course. Two rooms. One night." The man replied a little too late to sound natural, his eyeballs bursting from their sockets and his words mumbled. "That will be...er..."
"Is my face really that interesting to you, Monsieur?" Erik asked icily, ignoring the sharp intake of breath that came from the Persian beside him, far too busy delighting in how the rude barman turned red and started to squirm under his murderous gaze. Surely the Persian wasn't going to berate him for this, not when the greasy little man had been so blatantly unpleasant? "You know, if you think that this is good to gawp at, you should really take a look at what is concealed underneath."
"I am terribly sorry Monsieur, my friend is very tired from our journey and so is a little more irritable than usual." Nadir immediately interjected in apologetic tones, throwing money at the mortified barman whilst also delivering a well placed jab to Erik's ribs with the sharp point of his elbow. Erik was quietly fuming, even muttering obscenities under his breath, but Nadir could only be thankful that his friend had not gripped the barman by the shoulders and thrown him across the room, given the mood he was in. "Also, might I have the opportunity to offer our services to you? My friend here is an excellent musician, and I am sure your customers would greatly appreciate his playing the piano this evening, for a small fee-"
The man slammed his hands down on the bar, returning to his mopping at a ferocious manner, insulted by these threatening idiots and their audacity to ask to be hired after be so terribly rude! Nadir knew, from the angry face of the barman, that once again his persuasive techniques had failed him. Erik had always been the charismatic one of them.
"We don't have music here." He almost snarled, twisting the words with such disgust that anyone would think that Nadir had asked to set up a brothel in one of the bedrooms. "If you want those types, go and explore the travelling freak show those scum's manage. Offer them your services."
Then he turned smartly on his heel and ignored them.
Erik was trembling with rage, taken off guard by how incredibly rude and unpleasant the sneering little man was- their isolation from normality for the last year had made him forget how rude some of the human race could be, and it reminded him once again of why he had chosen to live (Erik chose to think selectively then) a good five cellars below humanity. Knowing that his patience was frayed and close to breaking point, he made himself turn and stalk away across the room, stopping himself from seizing the barman and slamming his smug face against the unswept floor. He sought out the only free table amongst the drunken chatter, and sat down with a scowl set to rival a gargoyle.
Nadir wearily joined him, sitting heavily down and very nearly dozing on the table there and then. Without the distraction of conversation, Erik's restless mind was allowed to work itself into another frenzy, making him feel even less comfortable. So that was that, then. Another city searched, another part of France travelled, some more money and lifespan wasted and still she was no-where to be found.
The last year had seen the lowest points of Erik's existence- the misery he had been subjected to had rivalled his guilt in the years of Persia, his pain in the years of the gypsy clan and his anguish writhing beneath the Opera Populaire. This hellish stretch of torture was not a result of illnesses or exhaustion that he encountered as they rode on this mad quest for knowledge around France- no, this time, the guilty party was hope. It was hope, and its cruel fantasies, that were shattering him very successfully as he sat there in the dimly lit inn, his head buried in his hands.
It was the same every night; without fail, as he sat there in silence contemplating his existence, he would be bombarded with the memory of that night- that night that should have been one of the best of his life, a time to savour and fondly recollect with a smiling Christine by his side. It was horridly ironic that as soon as she chose him over the snivelling Vicomte, some other unknown force had seen fit to take her away. It was as if fate had decided against Erik's happiness, pulling out all the stops in the sadistic effort to ensure that Erik would never receive any of Christine Daae's love. Nadir had sworn to him that night that Christine would be alive and well, and since then he had never shown any signs of taking that promise back. But for Erik, it was becoming harder and harder to keep reminding himself and believing that she could possibly be alright. For each city they searched to no avail, each night he spent with his aching head buried in his hands like this, was slowly destroying him and the little optimism he possessed.
It was a morbid, idle wonder of his to question how many crushing nights like this it would take before he gave up and resigned himself to the fact that she was dead.
Nadir yawned and stretched, the sound a welcome release from this self inflicted misery. Erik looked up and took in Nadir, seeing his grouchy expression that clearly came from being pulled out of his brief snatch of sleep. The culprits were the gypsies, loud in their drunken celebrations, so Erik turned his gaze over to where they all clustered around tables, brightly coloured and unearthly. He watched as they continued with their games; swigging far too much ale in disgusting displays of manliness, throwing knives at the wall, stabbing daggers into the wooden tables but generally just smiling, laughing and enjoying themselves. It was a side to them and their vibrant culture that he had seldom been able to see and never able to experience, constantly under the evil eyed watch of Javert, and spending the majority of his time locked in that stinking cage.
His eyes, curious now, swept over them and took in their fascinatingly bright clothes and found an odd, misplaced sense of delight as he saw how wild and free they were. For as much as he had loathed Javert and his sadistic approach to everything, Erik had never and would never be able to loathe the Romany people collectively. Not when they lived with such energy and joy- there were no signs of worry or regret etched onto their faces, and Erik felt oddly respectful of that. If he had not been a deformed monster as a child, and instead a normal looking being but with all his odd abilities of ventriloquism and illusion, Erik knew without doubt that his life in the clan would have been pleasant, even fun. Especially because of the music- the mad screeching of the fiddle, the rowdy singing, the constant pounding of the hand drums...nothing could compare to music from the heart, accompanied by the crackle of a bonfire and the echoing sounds of empty night-time.
As he continued to watch them his eyes met those of a man who stared straight back at him with a puzzled expression. Erik felt that his face must have mirrored that confusion, for he felt a strange sense of déjà vu, staring at those dark brown eyes and that weathered skin. But whilst he remained unsure, the man suddenly smiled and got up, starting the short walk from his clustered table to Erik, who continued to stare at him and wondering where the odd swing in his stomach could have come from.
"Erik? Why are you antagonising a gypsy?!" Nadir demanded urgently, turning to look at where Erik's gaze was fixated and immediately breaking into a sweat. "Stop it right this instance! You may not care if he comes over here and threatens us, but I most certainly do!"
However, there was no time to reply, for the man was not a metre away, and Erik stood up, looking dazed as the man laughed and extended a hand for him to shake.
"Well I never." Said the gypsy in that accent which Erik had so often feared and desired. His eyes were sparkling and his smile was broad, seemingly amused by Erik's expression. Nadir stared at him warily, but the gypsy was only looking at Erik. "I would never have realised that it was you, had I not at last seen the edge of your mask. Very good, Erik. Very clever. But then you are a genius, aren't you?"
To Nadir's astonishment, Erik suddenly began to laugh; seizing the gypsy's outstretched hand and pumping it up and down with much enthusiasm, laughing along with him. Who even was this man? Erik apparently knew him and was pleased to see him- Nadir mentally berated himself when an odd jealous pang hit him in the heart. How childish, he told himself harshly, that you might be aggravated by the fact that Erik is friends with more than just you!
"Pali!" Erik exclaimed, the name meaning nothing to Nadir. "I can't believe it- what a coincidence!"
"No coincidence, Erik. For a meeting as wondrous as this, it must be fate at work!" Pali laughed, letting go of Erik's hand only to slap him on the shoulder in a brotherly manner. Nadir watched, feeling sour. "And look at you! So changed from when we last met! No-one would ever guess that such a well dressed, well spoken and well travelled- so it would seem- gentleman could have once been the greatest attraction of our clan!"
The realisation of who this man must be hit Nadir like a tonne of bricks. With an outraged gasp, he stood up and knocked his chair back, his face going the colour of the neck tie Pali was wearing. Erik turned to look at him, rolling his eyes at the sight and telling Nadir with his facial expression to stop fretting and to sit back down. But this only made him angrier.
"Erik, I demand that you tell me WHAT ON EARTH is going on!" he hissed his demand, his fists crashing down upon the table in a manner that was not dissimilar to the barman's behaviour from earlier. Perhaps Erik just brought out this side in everyone? "Why are you shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with him, one of the beasts who incarcerated and exploited you when you were an innocent child?!"
At this, both Pali and Erik began to roar with infuriating laughter, making Nadir tremble with suppressed fury.
"Answer me, damn it!" he roared, in a tone Erik had never heard the stoic Daroga use before. It reminded him that Nadir was, once again, merely looking out for him and trying to ensure that he was not suffering. In his happiness to see an old face again, he had forgotten his loyal friend, and he instantly stopped the cruel laughter and laid a restraining hand on Nadir's shoulder, which the Persian batted off irritably. Smothering the urge to retort with an insult, he simply sat down at the table and gestured for Pali to pull up a chair and join them.
Either Pali was ignorant of the evil glares Nadir was shooting at him, or he was just a very understanding person.
"Do calm down, Daroga. Pali is no more an evil beast than I am a handsome gentleman. He was my age when I was being carted around as the 'Devils Child' by Javert- innocent." Erik explained calmly, and Pali's face immediately went blank and emotionless at the mention of the gypsy Erik had so often talked about- Nadir knew that Javert and the torture he had inflicted on Erik were some of the only events in Erik's life that had truly scared him and still left him vulnerable to nightmares. At the mention of the man's name, his eyes still displayed childish fear, and Pali seemed aware of that, losing his grin and looking troubled indeed. "Pali was the son of one of the gypsies- he used to talk to me, bring me food secretly and the like. Of course, neither of us understood the truth behind the situation; I was simply the boy in the cage, and he was the boy out of the cage."
Nadir listened to the truth behind it, and at once felt his face flood with a blush of shame. He murmured an apology to Pali, but the gypsy shook his head vehemently and continued to look disgusted and troubled.
"No, do not be sorry." He sounded bitter, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at his clasped hands in his lap. "What they did to Erik was monstrous and evil and I will forever regret the fact that he had to suffer at the hands of the people I called family. The clan is better these days though; we are more of a travelling fair, with no true slaves or people to exploit. Some of the leaders are still barbaric and would gladly return to the old ways, but people have moved on too- there is more success in talent than enslaving victims. I cannot help but be thankful for this, Erik, even though there are still many who would rather not be in the clan at all."
All three men fell silent for a moment, staring at their hands or at the grimy table in an awkward moment of being lost for words, but eventually Nadir got up and mumbled that he was going to buy some drinks for them all, shortly leaving to purchase the desired alcohol from the sulking barman. Pali raised his eyes from his hands to watch the Persian go, letting a soft laugh fall from his lips at the Persian's expression- it was not an unkind laugh, but more of an attempt to lighten the gloomy atmosphere. From across the room, Erik could still hear the other gypsies laughing and singing rowdily amongst themselves.
"It must be odd to him." Pali explained his laughter, even though he didn't need to.
"Yes." Erik agreed softly, the surprise and delight of this meeting now fading back into his depression regarding Christine. In an attempt not to fall back into his despair for a while longer, he forced his shoulders back and stormed into an attempt at conversation. "But then, it is odd for us all. Enough of that depressing topic- tell me, where has the clan been in recent years, with your new status as a travelling fair?"
Pali cracked a smile, used to Erik's odd humour and all too happy to talk about something a little less morbid. He paused for a moment, thinking about it, before answering in a happier tone.
"Well, we went to Eastern Europe for a little while- that was interesting, especially as a woman declared that she had fallen in love with me...anyway, we dabbled in Russia even, for a short time, until one of us caused some trouble and we had to flee quickly back to Italy. All a misunderstanding, of course." Pali grinned at the memory. "But now we've decided to go on progress around France, to try our hand at a more cultured approach. Someone somewhere in the clan decided that we would earn more money if we appealed to the civilised, so I suppose that if we could ascertain the mood of the French en ce moment we might be in for a big reward."
"That sounds industrious." Erik laughed, wondering if Pali and his other gypsy friends had thought that the richest of France would seldom venture out of their ostentatious homes, let alone go for a wander through a gypsy camp.
"Indeed." Pali smiled, raising an eyebrow as a scuffle broke out between some of the people he had been sat at the table with earlier. "But what of you? What brings you to this delightful inn tonight- do you live in the village?"
"No, no. I live in Paris." Erik replied, smiling to himself as he considered how his old friend would react if he elaborated on the nature of his abode in the capital. "Nadir and I are...well, I don't know how to put it. We are on a wild goose chase, I suppose, around France."
Pali looked intrigued as Nadir came back to the table, carrying a jug and three huge mugs of dark red wine that resembled blood and smelt truly rancid. Erik poured himself some and took a large swig of the vinegary tasting muck before he remembered that he disliked alcohol and it's bitter burn that made him want to gag and spit the disgusting stuff out and onto the already grubby floor. With a scowl, he pushed his mug back to the centre of the table, astonished that Nadir and Pali seemed to be enjoying their drinks.
"So you were saying- you're on a wild goose chase?" Pali asked, prompting Erik to continue, but Nadir began to speak instead, desperate to make up for his earlier rudeness towards Pali, who seemed to be a very decent man indeed. The gypsy smiled politely at the Persian, and Erik settled back to watch the conversation, amused.
"For the last year we have been riding around the country on horseback, and as you can see by the state of us and the poor quality of this disgusting wine, Erik and I are at the point of poverty and exhaustion- but we will succeed, I have no doubt about it." Nadir said, still not giving away any more information as to why they were galloping around the country like such fools. Erik knew that Pali wanted to know the interesting details, not to hear Nadir give an optimistic outlook on the whole affair.
"Around France, you say?" Pali mused aloud, playing with the rim of his wine mug, staring into the deep red liquid as if it were a crystal ball. "Well there's no need for you to travel and suffer like that- you could tour with us, the clan. I assume that you are still musical Erik; you could add to our cultured appeal by playing every night, and you would get to keep your earnings and sleep in a tent or caravan."
The words sunk into Erik's mind, suddenly seeming honey sweet and making him sit up straight, a huge grin breaking out across his face, which was marked with the lines of exhaustion and worry. Of course- why hadn't he considered it? They would tour with the gypsy clan for a little while, still covering France, but earning money too- also, the gypsy fair was likely to entice out the same thug who had stolen Christine away, as Erik presumed he would be of the filthy nature that enjoyed gawping at such barbaric spectacles. He was so caught up in the sudden excitement of such an idea, that he did not take note of how Nadir's face had become stern and forbidding.
"Pali that is a brilliant notion!" he said enthusiastically, and Nadir's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Nadir, don't you agree? We can earn money and still continue with an effective search for Christine!"
At the mention of a woman's name, Pali suddenly seemed more interested, his eyes sparkling again as he studied Erik's ecstatic expression, sensing a tale. How odd that Erik, a boy he had known from a troubled childhood and now was the epitome of mystery in those civilised clothes and disguised by a flesh coloured half mask, would be willing to chase a girl all over France at the expense of himself and an old friend.
"Who is this Christine girl, Erik?" Pali asked eagerly, but his interest was overshadowed by Nadir's sudden anger as an argument ensued.
"And why on EARTH would you want to travel with a gypsy clan, Erik?" Nadir clearly did not share his friend's optimism, his tone furious as he questioned Erik's sanity. "I appreciate that you have just met an old friend again, and that you feel very pessimistic regarding our search success, but-"
"It's not just about that, though, Khan! Think; the clan will lead us all over France, efficiently!" Erik argued hotly, his sense blinded by his desire to find Christine, all practicality lost to his desperation to find her. "And don't you think that a gypsy camp will attract the very low life's we are trying to locate? Not meaning to degrade your clan, Pali..."
"Erik-!"
"And don't you think that we need money, Khan? We'll never get anything from stuck up innkeepers- this may be our only chance to earn whilst we search for her and thus not die from eating or drinking such pigs swill." He gestured towards to wine with a grimace. Normally, Erik would have been horrified by the idea of travelling with the clan he had been enslaved in- now, he was clouded by the thought that it might enable them to find her at long last, and end this suffering for good. "Damn you, Daroga!"
Pali glanced at both men nervously, seeing their murderous glares and briefly wondering how they had not killed one another by now. He felt as though he should sit between them, as the wobbly wooden table was not going to stop them if the argument resorted to fists, but he was terrified of getting caught up between two such angry looking men that he sat back meekly and swallowed his protests.
"You know, you wouldn't have to necessarily tour with us- you could follow behind us, stay at your own accommodation, but in the evenings perform for your income." Pali intervened hesitantly, still glancing at both of them, fearful of their reactions. "We only set up our acts and open the clan to the paying public at night, anyway. Would such a compromise suffice?"
Nadir looked from Pali to Erik and then back at his wine, sighing in irritable defeat, far too tired from the days riding and too uncomfortable with the thick smoke stinging his sore eyes to argue properly. He took another large gulp of vinegary wine, wincing at the acidic sting it brought to his throat, before taking another gulp simply for something to do. He was being pushed into a corner, faced with arguments that he could hardly object to, and yet his gut instinct was still to protest.
"It is hardly a compromise, but it will have to do if you are so set upon it." He snapped, Erik nodding in agreement, only he was smiling with nervous pleasure at the outcome. "What you will do for that flighty woman astounds me, Erik. Touring with the very gypsies who inflicted hell and more upon you, only a child...pah!"
Pali let out a sigh of relief that he had not been required to leap between them as they fought to the death, assuring them with a happy smile that any arrangement was bound to be fine. He soon left them to return to the camp with his friends, telling them that he would come back to speak with them tomorrow morning after they had all had the sweet relief of a night's sleep. Erik was filled with an odd sense of jubilation as he and Nadir ascended the stairs from the now deserted bar to the rooms upstairs, ignoring Nadir's stony glare and instead trying to focus on what it would feel like when at last they found Christine and took her home to Paris, together and safe at last.
"I hope you know what you are doing, Erik." Nadir murmured, before going into his own room and shutting the door, leaving Erik alone in the empty corridor before he entered his own bedroom, laying down on the bed and laughing aloud in euphoric bliss to feel a mattress and pillow beneath his aching limbs.
He did not dare, however, to contemplate how it would feel if by the end of the clans excursion around France they had still not found Christine. In this snatch of optimistic bliss, with a pillow beneath his thumping head and four walls around him to grant him a night of silence and warmth, it was a matter that did not bear thinking about.