Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Phantom of the Opera. (looks around) Erik, get back in the closet before someone finds you! (looks back at readers) Nope, don't own Erik at all…
AN: This story is soon coming to a close. I'd give it one more chapter, then an epilogue, and that will be it in the story of Erik and Aria. But have no fear, dear readers, for there will be another Phantom story coming up! For more info on this, see my bio page. Thanks, and please review!
Chapter 27: The Ghost's New Family:
The next morning, I woke to the delicious smells of sausages, fried potatoes, and fresh fruit. Opening my eyes, I spotted Erik sitting on the edge of the bed, his beautiful eyes gazing down at me with such love and joy that I nearly wept. He looked so happy.
"Good morning," he whispered, leaning down to kiss me.
I happily accepted the kiss, his lips lingering on mine until he pulled away a few moments later. Once we were separated, I watched as Erik produced a breakfast tray and placed it on my lap, acting as though he were performing a show or ceremony for my amusement.
"It looks delicious," I said while reaching for my fork and knife.
Erik gently reached out and grasped my hands in his. "No, darling, let me feed you."
I released the silver eating utensils and leaned back onto the pillows, allowing Erik to slowly feed me my breakfast. This left me feeling rather spoiled, however, and I made a note to myself to not let him do this too often, especially since I wanted a turn at feeding him in the future! For now, however, I would savor the moment, as well as enjoy the heated looks that Erik was giving me as I delicately ate off of the fork in his hand. When breakfast was over, Erik whisked the tray away to clean the dishes and I was left to dress. Today I would have to choose something very special, as we were to be visiting my father and uncle.
Last night, while Papa had been escorted upstairs, I had decided that it would be best for Erik to make an effort to try and win my father and uncle's approval. Papa, I knew, would do his best to accept Erik, but Uncle Gregory might be a different matter all together. Still, we would have to try, and if we managed to persuade them to accept Erik, then hopefully there would not be any tension between us. So, just before bed, I had written a note and put it in an open envelope on the bedside table, bearing my father's name on the front. Since it was no longer there, I suspected that Erik had read it before delivering it to the managers' office while I was still asleep.
As I opened the large wardrobe, my jaw dropped at the sight that greeted me. There were more than a dozen dresses hanging there, and I realized that Erik must have been planning for me to stay with him while I was still a guest in his house. The selection of colors and materials was surprising enough, but when I pulled out a dress, I was even more shocked. It was made of satin, and was a mixture of shimmering peacock blues-and-greens, blending together beautifully. Glittering gold buttons held the cuffs closed, and could be buttoned down the front so that I would not need help. Not only that, but it was cut in my size, without the torture of a corset that would have to be laced, tightened, and tied from behind. Erik had apparently thought of everything when it came to providing for my living with him, and that only made me love him even more.
Once I was dressed, I went out to meet Erik, who was standing in the music room, fully dressed in his best outfit. I stopped and admired his clothing, which was stylishly formal and elegant. He wore his usual black coat, pants, shoes, and cloak, but his shirt was a brilliant white, and his vest was a deep green that matched his eyes perfectly. To my surprise, he was unmasked, and there was a look of uncertainty on his face as he looked at me. Puzzled, I looked at his expression until Erik lifted up his black gloved hands, each one bearing a mask. His right hand held his usual white mask, but his left had a black mask that looked like it would cover the upper half of his face.
"I cannot decide which would be better to face your family in," he muttered as I approached.
Smiling, I reached out and took both masks from him. "Well, I want you to be comfortable with what you are wearing," I said, looking at first the white mask before glancing at the black. "Which one fits you better or is better for your skin?"
The chaffing skin on Erik's face had healed itself a great deal since I had first arrived. The lotion I had put on him during my stay had reduced the puffiness of the skin, and the redness had faded dramatically. There would always be a bit of red or swollen skin, since it was part of his birth defect, but it no longer looked as bad as it once did. Even with his misshapen right eye and the slightly bumpy skin around it, I felt that Erik looked almost as though he'd suffered injuries in a bad fight or fire, nothing more.
'Of course, I probably see him that way because I love him,' I thought while watching Erik consider each mask. 'After all, love is blind, and I cannot see Erik's face the way he or anyone else does, so perhaps it is best for him to deal with it in his own way, leaving me to calm or comfort him if need be.'
"They have learned to fear me in my white mask, but the black, I think, makes me appear darker and more sinister," Erik deduced, his eyes thoughtful as he considered his choices.
I could hear the conflict and sadness in his voice, and it broke my heart. He had suffered so much already, and now he was forcing himself to walk through hell once more by visiting my father and uncle. I wanted Erik to be comfortable and confident on this visit, and let him know it.
"Erik, please, choose whichever one is the most comfortable for you to wear," I said with a smile.
He sighed and reached for the black mask. "It is velvet-lined, and will be much more pleasant on my face," he said while slipping it on.
Walking up to him, I put my fingers on the outer edge of the black material and helped settle it into place. "You know that if it were up to me, you would never wear that thing at all," I told him, going on tiptoe to give him a small kiss on the lips. "There, all ready. And might I add that you look very handsome today?"
He blushed and cleared his throat. "Shall we?" he asked, presenting his right arm to me.
Accepting his arm, I followed my husband out of our home and up towards the Opera House.
Roland paced the length of his office once more, his eyes going to the clock on the wall every minute or so. Seated on the couch was a smirking Gregory, who was enjoying a nice glass of brandy while he waited for his niece and new nephew-in-law.
"I still can't believe how calm you are," Roland muttered to his brother. "Actually, I'm surprised you've notice anything beyond putting that bloody opera on tonight!"
Gregory sighed and put his glass on the small table beside him. "Roland, my dear brother, I will have you know that I have been keeping track of this whole thing since the moment the Count and Countess de Chagny brought Aria back to us," he said with a roll of his eyes.
The startled blue-grey of his brother's eyes turned to look at him. "What do you mean?" Roland demanded. "You've been so focused on producing Carmen that you've barely left our work quarters or your rooms since Aria got back! How the hell would you know what's been going on?"
"Really, Roland, you should know that everyone in this Opera House practically lives on gossip," Gregory replied with a grin. Picking up his glass once more, Gregory leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs in a relaxed manner that probably frustrated his brother to no end. "I merely used the tools that were at hand to get information whenever I needed it. Mother taught me that, and I'm surprised that you didn't do the same thing. Thanks to those ballet rats, the chorus, and the cleaning crew, I had a steady flow of information coming to me throughout the day."
Gregory took a small sip from his glass. "That is how I knew of your stupid attempts at trying to get Aria to become friends with the Countess. Might I add that Christine de Chagny is a foolish young woman with a head full of fluff underneath those curls of hers? I really don't know what possessed you to fancy the Countess as a good friend for our dear girl. When I realized what you were trying to do, I immediately stopped trusting you when it came to Aria's happiness."
Roland sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I just wanted a good role model in her life," he explained. "Someone who was a lady and could help Aria find other friends here in Paris. Christine might have even been able to find a decent husband for Aria, if she'd been given a chance."
Gregory burst into laughter. "And you thought that a foolish, naïve young woman like Christine would be a friend to Aria? After all of the strong, independent ideas and thoughts that Mother has been feeding to her throughout the years? Honestly, Roland! What were you thinking, trying to have a meek, weak-willed, fragile thing like Christine as a friend for Aria?"
"I just wanted what was best for her!" Roland snapped, his hands clenching into fists. "I thought that with friends like the de Chagnys, Aria would be quickly introduced into society and make connections, perhaps even find a husband when she couldn't do so in London!"
Gregory merely shook his head. "Well, she's married now, though it's to a man we've never really been introduced to, at least formally," he said in a soothing voice. "And if Aria has indeed wedded this man out of love, as well as found happiness with him, then he cannot be that bad, now, can he?"
Roland sighed and poured himself a glass of brandy before collapsing into a nearby chair. "Yes, Aria wouldn't marry someone unless she loved, trusted, and had faith in a man," he replied before taking a gulp from his glass. "I wish it were anyone but the Opera Ghost, but as long as she's happy, then who am I to stand in her way?"
"Good man," Gregory said with a smile. "Now, finish that drink; you're going to need your nerves settled before they get here!"
His brother merely glared at him before taking another drink from his glass.
I wanted to go in through the front doors of the office, but Erik insisted on using the secret passageways through the walls. He thought it would cause panic among the workers if they saw him walking through the hallway, and he did not want to risk the opening night being ruined by shaky or overly-fearful people. Understanding his point, I followed him to the wall of my father and uncle's office and knocked.
Peeking through the spyhole in the wall, I saw my father and Uncle Gregory start in their seats, practically spilling their brandy all over themselves as they attempted to get to their feet. Uncle managed to stand and straighten himself out first, so he was the one who went to open the door. Pausing before it, I saw him realize that the knock hadn't come from that direction, but instead came from behind him. Frowning, he turned and looked in our direction.
"Aria, is that you?" he said, the small grin tugging at his lips belying the sternness of his voice.
Giggling, I motioned for Erik to open the door and slipped inside when the opening was big enough. Uncle Gregory put down his glass and opened his arms to me. I happily ran to his arms in order to give him a warm hug, which he returned just as warmly.
"Welcome back, Madame," Uncle said, his voice soft as he spoke into my ear.
I pulled back. "Thank you, Uncle," I replied with a smile. "May I introduce you to my husband, Erik Renault?"
Turning around, I reached out for Erik's hand, a shiver of joy and pleasure going down my back as one of his gloved hands took mine in a firm, but gentle, grasp. I looked up into his eyes and gave him a supporting smile and a comforting squeeze with my hand, which seemed to reassure him. I heard Papa rise from his chair and approach us, clearing his throat.
"Welcome, Erik," Papa said. "Will you sit and take a glass of something to drink?"
Erik stiffened slightly, and I could see that he could not tell if Papa was being sincere in his offer or not. I gave him another smile, which seemed to convince him of my father's hospitality.
"Yes, thank you," my husband slowly replied in a soft voice. "I would like a glass of wine, if you have it. I am afraid that anything stronger does not sit well with me."
Papa nodded and went to the alcohol cabinet, pulling out one bottle of wine after another, discarding several before selecting one that he thought would suit us best. As Erik and I sat down together on the couch, Papa uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses of the red liquid. I smiled. He obviously remembered that I only drank sweet red wine, and would not have poured two glasses if it wasn't the sort I liked.
After Erik and I had accepted our glasses, there was a small stream of awkward chatter, mostly about the upcoming opening night of Carmen. Papa and Uncle kept offering details and insights into the production that I'm sure Erik already knew about, given how he always watched a production's progress. Thankfully, my husband merely sat there, listening politely and occasionally offering a comment or opinion whenever Papa or Uncle seemed to be waiting for one.
Finally, that line of conversation ran dry, and I could see the questions burning behind my father and uncle's eyes. They wanted to know more about Erik, to see what kind of man he was and if he was a good one. I knew that they trusted my judgment, but they wanted to be sure, nonetheless. I cleared my throat and looked over at Erik; he knew what that look meant, and would answer any questions put to him, even if they made him uncomfortable. He wanted a good relationship of trust with my family, and would be honest with them, if only for my sake.
"So, Erik," Uncle Gregory started while sipping his brandy. "Tell me, how did you become the Opera Ghost that is so well-known?"
I squeezed Erik's hand as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Then, taking a deep breath, he began the tale of his life.
Whatever sort of tale he had been expecting, this was not it. Roland listened to Erik's story with a sense of sadness that nearly broke him in two. He could not imagine his mother not loving him or his brother for any reason; she had always been so good and forgiving of them, and he knew that even if he or Gregory had been born with a deformity, their mother would have still kept them with her.
'How could a mother sell her son to the gypsies like that?' he thought as Erik continued his story. 'I know that I would never have done such a thing if Aria had been born with a misshapen face or a club foot. How could Erik's mother have done that to him while he was still a young child?'
Roland now understood how Erik Renault had evolved into the dreaded Phantom of the Opera, a man feeding on the fear of others in order to feel powerful and to feel confident in himself. No one had ever loved him; instead, they had spat on him, beat him, and tortured him, all of which had occurred after he had been sold into slavery and put on display as a creature in a cage.
Before, Roland had thought that Aria's sympathy of Erik's actions had been made out of her desperate need to have her love and marriage accepted by her family. He knew differently, now. Erik had acted the way he had for a reason, and he could not be faulted for that. Even his actions towards Christine and Raoul could be seen as a man's desperate attempts to feel loved and accepted by someone.
Sipping his drink, Roland threw his brother a discreet look, which was quickly returned while Erik finished his tale about his life. Gregory, too, had sympathy for the new addition to their family, and was willing to accept Erik for who he was. Besides, Erik was a good man, and apparently an affectionate one; Roland couldn't help but notice how Erik's hands kept a hold of Aria's, their fingers entwined or caressing each other's while he talked.
'He does love her,' Roland thought with a touch of sadness. 'Well, at least I lost my little girl to a man who can care for her as she deserves.'
It should have been a comforting thought, but for some reason, that only made Roland Craven's heart ache. Even though he knew that Aria would always love him, Roland could see that he had lost his daughter, in more ways than one.
I held Erik's hand until his story came to an end. When it did, I watched as his shoulders sagged, as though relieved that a huge burden had been removed from him. Behind us, a small desk clock struck the noon hour, and I knew that lunch would be served soon; Erik and I would have to leave before the servants arrived to see if my father and uncle wanted their noon meal here in their office or elsewhere.
Papa cleared his throat. "I can see how you became the way you are now, Erik," he said before finishing off his brandy. "I had not considered the story behind the man who was the Phantom, and you have given me much to think about. I thank you for that."
"We also know that you will take good care of Aria," Uncle Gregory continued while setting aside his empty glass. "It is clear to us that you love her dearly, but we are hoping that you will be able to provide for her as a husband should."
Erik frowned just a little. "I can assure you that I have a great deal of money," he said, keeping his voice soft. "I can easily give Aria anything her heart desires, should she ask it of me."
Papa nodded. "That is all I ask. Love her, provide a good home for her, and keep her safe. As long as you do that, I have no further objections to your marriage."
I smiled and rose from my seat on the couch. Papa also rose from his chair, his arms reaching out to embrace me in a warm hug. For a moment, I was transported to my childhood, back to the point when Papa and I had first discussed my getting married. In all of wisdom I'd had at the age of a twelve-year-old, I had sworn to my father that I would be with him always, that I would never marry and leave him as my mother had. I had broken that promise, but knew that Papa had forgiven me. He would always love me, and would support me in this choice I had made.
We separated without a word, though I felt the soft brush of Papa's lips on my forehead as he pulled away. Erik put his arms around my waist, and when I looked up at him, I saw him give my father a respectful nod of the head, which Papa returned. They understood each other now: Papa saw Erik's need for love and acceptance, and Erik seeing Papa's desire to protect me from harm. A sort of truce had been made today, and I sincerely hoped that it would last long enough for the two of them to grow fond of one another.
"We must go," Erik declared, his voice soft as he turned his head towards the hidden door. "The servants will be here soon to inquire about your noon meals, and Aria and I must prepare for the opening performance of Carmen tonight."
Uncle Gregory also rose from his chair. "We will keep Box 5 open for you," he said with a smile. "Would it be possible for you to have lunch with us tomorrow? I would like your opinion on how the performance went."
Erik nodded. "It would be a pleasure," he replied with a bow. "Come, my angel, we have much to do before tonight."
I gave my father and uncle a kiss. "I will see the two of you tomorrow," I said while accepting Erik's arm. Giving them one last smile, I followed Erik back towards our home on the lake.
Pulling off his cravat, Erik let out a sigh of relief. The performance of Carmen had been absolutely stunning, with all of the performers hitting their marks in their work. The dancers were in step, the singers on key, and the stagehands had been on the spot at changing backdrops and setting up the stage with props in between scenes. In all his time at the Populaire, Erik had seen very few managers pull off a successful opening night, and he was strangely delighted that his new uncle- and father-in-law were one of those few. For once, Erik felt that his Opera House was in good, capable hands.
"Erik, I've been thinking," Aria was saying as she slipped into her nightgown. Erik raised an eyebrow, but continued to listen as they dressed for bed. "I've been thinking that I would like to introduce you to my family."
Erik looked at her in confusion. "But you already introduced me to your family," he said.
Aria shook her head and laughed. "No, silly, I want to introduce you to the rest of my family. I have many aunts, uncles, and cousins I want you to meet, and who will want to meet you."
'The rest of the family?' he thought, turning pale. Erik opening his mouth to refuse, but the sight of Aria's pleading brown eyes stilled his tongue. He could, after all, deny her nothing. Besides, he did want a family of his own, and he never was one to turn down an opportunity such as this.
AN: Erik's off to England to meet more of his family! Please review! Thanks!