Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Phantom of the Opera. Only original stuff is mine.
AN: Finally, the moment everyone has been waiting for: getting abducted by Erik! I hope that it isn't too cliché or anything, but if it is, please let me know! Enjoy the chapter, and please review!
Chapter 6: Payment of a Different Sort:
After Papa left to retire for the night, I sat before my vanity, staring at my jewelry box. The light of the candles along the walls and of the fire in the fireplace flickered, causing the shadows to dance. Sighing, I reached out and caressed the case that held the solution to our financial predicament.
While my jewelry was quite valuable, the box that held them was just as costly. It was rather large, one foot by one foot, and at least six inches tall. It was made of smooth, polished ebony, and had elegant silver designs carved into the top and four sides. On the top of the box, the silver had been inlaid into the wood, creating a garden of vines, flowers, and leaves that sparkled in any sort of light. Along the four sides of the box were little flowers created from mother-of-pearl set into silver leaves. It was one of my most prized possessions, as it had been last gift my mother had given me before she left, taking my dear brother with her.
Reaching out, I carefully lifted the lid, smiling as a few chiming notes met my ear. It was not a music box, but Mother had asked someone to install a device to make a few pretty notes chime every time I opened it. The inside was lined with black velvet, making the jewels inside sparkle like silver and gold stars in the night sky. Father had wanted to reline it with blue velvet, as blue was my favorite color, but I wouldn't allow it; I loved the box just as it was, just as the way Mother had given it to me.
What I believed to be the ingenious thing about this box was that, if I pulled on one level of the box, it would swing out to reveal another layer beneath it. All together, there were three layers inside my jewelry box, each one with a specific kind of jewelry: the bottom layer held my necklaces and brooches, the middle held my heavier bracelets and hair clips, and the top section had my rings and smaller bracelets. While there was a great deal to choose from, the only things that I truly wore were the less glamorous rings and the lighter bracelets. I had no idea why Grandmother and Grandfather insisted on giving me jewelry, but I wasn't one to argue with my grandparents.
'Besides, they will certainly be of good use now,' I thought, swinging the top two sections aside to get to the necklaces.
Grandmother was particularly fond of neck decorations, and there was always one thing or another she thought might be to my liking. As it was, I had many pieces, most of them pendants and all of them ranging in color from pale blue to the deepest red. I hadn't even worn half of them, and those that had graced my neck had only done so once. Unlike most women my age, I was not the sort of person to pour over gems and coo in admiration, so I merely tucked them aside and forgot about them.
"But which ones to I sell?" I asked aloud while looking them over. "Well, the topaz pendant can go…I never looked good in that sort of color in the first place. The pale yellow diamonds should be sold as well, since the color is hideous…Grandmother did say she had been a bit ill while buying them on her last voyage to England and couldn't tell what color they were until it was too late…"
For over an hour I poured through my collection, selecting things that I not only didn't need, but also things that did not suit me. Some of the jewelry I did like, very much so, and it was those that I spared. Besides, if my father and uncle owned the Populaire, I would have to look elegant and wear a bit of sparkle during the performances I attended.
In the end, I mostly chose necklaces and brooches. Most were too gaudy for my taste, so it was not difficult to be parted from them. After choosing which ones to sell to the local jewelry shops, I gently laid each piece aside on their own handkerchief and shut my jewelry box, putting it aside and pulling out another, plainer case. I then carefully wrapped each piece up and place it, one at a time, into the plain wood case that was lined with soft leather.
"Hopefully, when Papa takes these to be sold, they will fetch a good price," I said, staring sadly at my depleted ebony box. "It should be enough to pay off the Ghost, if only just this one time."
Picking up the wood case, I gently lifted it up and placed it on the other side of my vanity, the one closest to the door so that Papa would know which case to take. I sighed, rubbing my eyes in exhaustion before heading towards my room and getting into bed, blowing out the candle to leave me in quiet darkness.
I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
From his place behind the mirror, Erik watch Mademoiselle Aria Craven go through her jewelry box, pushing aside certain gems and picking out others, putting her selections onto small handkerchiefs before rolling them up and storing them into a box.
'What on earth is she doing?' he thought, growing curious in spite of himself. 'Is she getting ready for a party?'
It certainly didn't look as though she were picking out necklaces to wear to a ball or outing. Also, she was in her nightgown and it was far too late to attend a party. It was fascinating to watch, though, so Erik merely stood there, trying to decipher the puzzle of what she was doing with so much of her valuables. Perhaps she was debating what to send back with her aunts when they left? The mere thought of the newest visitors to the Populaire made him growl in the back of his mind.
'Family,' he thought, gritting his teeth.
The idea of this woman having such a loving and doting family infuriated him. He barely restrained himself from flying through the glass and shaking her, yelling at her to appreciate what she had and to cherish it. Taking a deep breath, Erik quickly calmed his mind down and tried to focus on her actions.
"Hopefully, when Papa takes these to be sold, they will fetch a good price," she was saying as she gazed sadly at the wooden box that now held only half of her jewels. "It should be enough to pay off the Ghost, if only just this one time."
For a moment, Erik could only stare at her in shock. Was this woman actually sacrificing her jewelry to pay his salary? If that were so, then perhaps she had spoken the truth to Madame Giry about the finances of her father and uncle, that all of their money was already sunk into the production of the next opera and that there was nothing left to pay him.
'Perhaps I should change the day of payment,' he thought to himself before shoving the idea aside.
No, he would keep a firm hand on this. The Cravens would pay him on time, whether they liked it or not. If he grew soft and changed the date he demanded his funds, then they would think him weak and try to manipulate him in other ways. A Phantom could not afford to be weak. However, it would be foolish to try and take money that did not exist, except in the form of a young woman's most prized possessions.
As he watched Mademoiselle Craven retreat to her room for the night, Erik felt his lips turn downwards, forming a thoughtful frown.
'I will have to resort to the threat I made in my note,' he thought as the candlelight coming from underneath her bedroom door was slowly extinguished. 'I am afraid that I will have to take something of value from the older Cravens…something that they treasure above all others.'
Grinning broadly, he twirled his cape and raced down to his lair.
The next two weeks passed quickly and without any incidents. No more notes had been sent demanding the Ghost's payment, and Papa had deemed it fit to hold off paying him until the opera opening in ten days. Unfortunately, my aunts and cousins were due to leave early tomorrow morning and could not attend the first performance. I watched in amusement as Kari and Andrea pouted and whined, but to no avail; they were due back home to resume their studies, and Grandmother apparently wanted her daughters back home to help redecorate a room in her house.
"It's not fair," Kari pouted as we talked over tea. "I want to see the opera as much as anyone else does! I wish Mother had planned this trip differently!"
Today, Aunt Mary was out with her daughter, Andrea, shopping for a new hat, and Aunt Nancy had taken little Grace to the local toy shops to look for a new doll. Kari had claimed that she'd had enough shopping for one trip, and I had elected to stay behind so that we could talk. Of course, Kari had been delighted, since I was her favorite cousin; she felt that she could talk to me about anything and was exceedingly thankful that I wouldn't lecture her on things like her mother did.
I sighed and offered her a plate covered in tiny tea sandwiches. "Kari, you know perfectly well that there will be many other performances in the future, and that your mother will happily bring you and your sister here over the course of the year." I gave her a soothing smile. "Besides, one of those visits is bound to coincide with one opera performance or another!"
Now it was Kari's turn to sigh as she daintily took one of the sandwiches, carefully nibbling her way through it as she thought about what I had just said. She knew I was right, and I knew that Aunt Mary had given her the same talk at least once over the past week. However, since the statement was from me and not her mother, it was highly probable that she would actually listen to what I had to say.
"You're right," she grudgingly admitted. "And I know that you and Mother are right, but I so would like to see Uncle Roland and Uncle Gregory's first opera! It would be so exciting to see all of the Parisian woman in their finest gowns and jewels!"
I couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes, it will be a fine sight, and I'm sure that I will be a nervous wreck until after the whole thing is over with," I said, picking up a small pastry and nibbling on it.
"Oh, I'm sure that you will make a few friends," Kari replied with a smile. "Why, you might even find a nice Frenchman and fall in love with him!"
The thought made me choke on my pastry, and I had to take a drink of tea to wash it down. After coughing for a few moments, I sent her a glare even as she giggled at me. When I had finally calmed down, I barely resisted the urge to behave unladylike and throw a pastry at her.
"Kari Katherine Paine!" I exclaimed. "Shame on you, trying to play matchmaker with someone older and wiser than you!"
Kari merely chuckled and batted her eyelashes at me in a playful manner. "Now, Aria, you know I didn't mean anything by it," she said while raising her cup to her lips. Once she had taken a drink, she set it back down to its saucer and gave me a smile. "Besides, Grandmother is the one who usually tries to pair you up with someone, and I know how much you dislike it."
I bit back a groan and picked up a sandwich, taking a healthy bite out of it so that I did not have to answer her. It was true that Grandmother was often trying to find me a husband, and that she was worried that her eldest granddaughter would become an old maid. I knew that Grandmother wanted me to find love, but I had the distinct feeling that if I didn't fall in love and marry soon, she would probably arrange a marriage for me.
"Would it be possible to talk about something else?" I asked with a slight roll of my eyes.
Kari giggled and nodded. "Alright, but promise you'll write to me and tell me all about the opening night," she pleaded. "I want to hear about everything, from what the women were wearing to how smoothly the performance went."
After agreeing to her terms, all talk was diverted to chatter about the latest Parisian hairstyles.
What drove him to watch her like this was something he did not understand. True, he had spied on many people throughout his life, but something about Aria Craven pulled him towards her. Perhaps it was the simple, yet elegant way she wore her hair; he always did love women with long, silky brown hair. His Angel had borne brown curls and had sometimes worn it in a horse-tail, the only way she could pull it back without trouble. When a lock did escape, it only made her look sweeter.
But Aria was different. Each morning he watched her style her straight, luxuriously thick red-brown locks, and never tired of seeing her hands gracefully put each strand into place. As was the present style, her hair was always pulled up to the back of her head, either up near the top or lower towards her neck. Sometimes there were painstakingly made curls on either side of her face, or there were simple, gently combed wings of hair covering her ears. If she had enough spare time during the day, she would make two small lengths of braids, one on each side of her temple to pull around a bun in order to make it more elegant. Watching her was like watching an artist sculpt a masterpiece.
As he watched her talk with one of her young cousins, Erik began to wonder why he found this particular young woman so fascinating. There were so many other, far more interesting and beautiful women working in the Opera House; why was he so determined to stand behind her mirror and watch her discuss fashion with her female family members?
'Because, when she speaks of anything, even clothes and hairstyles, she sounds intelligent,' he thought, staring hard at the giggling Miss Craven. 'She isn't foolish or vain, nor is she so focused on her looks that she thinks of nothing else in the world around her.'
Better yet, she was never solely interested in frivolous things, such as wealthy marriages or social gossip. Oh, she joined into such discussions when her aunts inquired about certain things, but it was plain to see that Aria was not the sort to take pleasure from another person's misery or finances. The topics usually spilling from her lovely mouth usually included books, music, art, or something to do about the Opera House; anything else was of no interest to her.
It was then that an idea hit Erik so quickly that he nearly fell over from it. He had always longed to have someone to talk to about the arts, and here, no more than ten feet away from him, sat a woman who clearly enjoyed those things! In this young noblewoman, he had found a solution to his loneliness, a solution he valued at far more than twenty thousand francs.
'She will be very good company for me,' he thought, grinning as he watched her bid her cousin a farewell for the night. 'Of course, having her in my lair will help ensure her father and uncle's cooperation in future matters…'
Chuckling to himself, the Phantom took one last look through the mirror and vanished underground.
It was late after my tea with Kari was over, and in attempting to keep her entertained until her mother and sister returned, I had used every conversation topic I could possibly think of. By the time I heard Aunt Nancy and Aunt Mary walking down the hallway to prepare themselves for dinner, I was so exhausted that I was nearly asleep on my feet.
Instead of going to join them, I sent Kari ahead, telling her 'goodnight,' and asking her to tell the others I would be in bed. She reluctantly agreed and said that she would try and see me tomorrow before she left, though with the carriage leaving so early, there was little chance of that. I told her that I would see her again soon, no doubt, and kissed her goodbye, just in case I did miss her. I knew that the rest of the family would come in the morning to say farewell, and decided to go to bed early so that I could see them when they came.
Quickly changing into my nightdress, I began blowing out the candles and dimming the gas lamps, leaving just enough light for any maids to come in and tidy up the tea dishes. Once that was done, I pulled my hair out if its bun and took up my brush, pulling it through the strands of dark hair so that they wouldn't tangle. The motions soon had me in a soothing trance, and I quickly set the brush down before I fell asleep over my vanity. Sighing, I rose from the seat and stretched slightly, grateful to be out of my corset. Then I turned around, straight into the chest of a well-dressed man.
Looking up, I was shocked to see half a white mask on the right side of the intruder's face. He was unusually tall, taller even than my father, and he had the most wonderful, blazing, gold-flecked green eyes I'd ever seen, staring down at me. Despite the mask, the stranger was incredibly handsome, and his elegant evening attire only enhanced it.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that the Opera Ghost was masked; it had said so in the numerous papers and booklets that I had read in England. I had expected someone insane-looking, a man with mad eyes and who was frothing at the mouth; I had not thought that the person extorting money from my father would look like this! Why, the man had an air of superiority and intelligence about him! Why would he need to take money from another human being in this manner?
'It must be the mask,' I thought, my eyes drifting towards it. 'That is what sets him apart from the rest of humanity. You poor soul, what could have happened in your life to turn you into this?'
I was so preoccupied with my examination of the Ghost that I had neglected to pay attention to any of his actions. Suddenly, I felt him plant his hand firmly in the small of my back, pulling me flush against his body. Parting my lips to cry out, I felt a cloth go over my mouth, my nose filling with a sickly-sweet smell. A moment later, darkness came, and I knew no more.
Carefully placing a note on her vanity, Erik then swept the unconscious Aria into his arms and over his shoulder, a proud smirk on his face as he carried his burden through the mirror. Silently shutting the glass behind him, he hurried downwards through the dark caverns to his home.
AN: Well, there's the abduction! The next chapter will be better and longer, I promise! Review!