Chapter 13: Wedding Plans

Meg's POV

Three days later, Meg and Erik were traveling in a wagon pulled by two black mares. In the front was Olivier and Armand. Jean and Carressa were on their own horse and Incendie traveled in the wagon with them, sleeping soundly.

It seemed strange. Going back to Paris after living in Metz for almost a month with Erik. She felt more at peace with him there than at the Opera House. Meg lay her head against Erik's chest and listened to his rhythmic heart beat and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

They were now in traditional gypsy garbs, which Meg took delight in wearing. They were more comfortable and looser than most other clothing that respectable young women were required to wear.

Meg nearly lolled off to sleep when the wagon jolted. Erik woke and grabbed her arms, holding her close to him. Meg looked at him.

His new mask was suitible for the Gypsy King. It was white and covered most of his face, except for his lips and chin. His black hat covered his balding head perfectly and his new leather gloves stopped the stench from reaching her nostrils. The wagon opened and the Paris Police climbed in.

"That man. The one with the mask," one said. "That's the Phantom. Arrest him."

"Your charges are—"

"I know my charges," Erik said, hoisting himself up along with Meg. "Murder of several Parisian residants, damage of property—which, by the way, origonally belongs to me—and blackmail."

The officers looked at each other and shrugged. Erik pushed Meg to the side and reached for his lasso, secured to a hook in his belt.

Meg tensed. She knew what Erik was planning.

Erik's POV

There weren't very many of them. It wouldn't take to long to get them out of the wagon. Erik smirked. He was the Gypsy King. He was the leader of this clan.

"Oviture, don't!" Erik was startled when Meg wrapped her arms around him. "Please, my love, don't kill them."

Erik sighed. He just couldn't say no to her. He put the lasso back on the hook, but he wasn't going to let them arrest him so easily.

"Very well, Oviere," he said, understanding why Meg used his Gypsy name. "I'll just get them out."

"Alive?"

"Yes."

The officers advanced, but Erik was able to dodge them with skill. Moments later, he had made a new forest of mirrors out of what he could find. The officers were soon unable to find their way out.

When Erik called out the other men to start pushing the mirrors toward the exit, which none of the officers could see anymore. The "room of mirrors" got smaller and smaller until the officers fell out of the wagon, and it sped down the road.

The Gypsies were shouting with victory, although Jean was disappointed that he didn't get to pick any of the officers' pockets.

Erik sighed and leaned against the wagon's wall.

"Erik," he glanced at Meg. "Thank you…for not killing them."

"I don't see what it proves."

"It proves that you don't have to kill people to be powerful," Meg said, smiling at him. She leaned forward and kissed him gently. Erik answered the kiss…

"Well, before you two love-birds get deeper, I thought you might want to know that we've arrived to Paris!" Armand shouted, smiling deviously. Erik could have liked nothing more than to kill him right then and now.

Meg's POV

They exited the wagon and climbed the stairs of the Opera House. In the entrance room, they could hear hurried tapping of feet and Madame Giry scurried down the grand staircase.

"Meg!" she engulfed Meg in a tight hug then pulled back, staring at her attire. "Meg… what are you parading around as? A gypsy?"

"Actually, Mother, yes. I am. The Phantom of the Opera, or the Gypsy King Le Oviture, has asked me for my hand in marriage. And I agreed.

"But, Meg, why would you—"

"Didn't you say that father was several times your senior."

"But he didn't kill people, Meg."

"No. But Erik has protected me with his life. I'm fine being a gypsy for the rest of my life. They don't judge you by how you look. They don't care who you are. They accept Erik as their leader and me as their queen. Erik was right, mother. I would become an Empress. He did keep his promise."

"Meg, why didn't you just tell me?"

Meg was getting iritated. Her mother never listened. Now that she was back, her mother chose to listen full heartedly. "Well, Mama," Meg snapped. "I'll just tell you why I didn't tell you. You never approved of anyone I cared for, even though I only loved Erik. You had me center my life on the dance, without asking what I wanted. Secondly, I didn't know Erik was a Gypsy King until just recently. I never felt so alive in my life until I met the gypsies."

Madame Giry stared at her enraged daughter, shocked.

Erik placed his hands on Meg's shoulders to stop the shaking young woman. "Madame Giry," Erik began. "I truly love your daughter. She was a miracle to me when I thought there was no more hope. Please, I beg you to let me take her as my wife."

Meg stared at Erik, then at her mother. Erik seemed desperate, and her mother blinked in disbelief.

"You want to marry Meg? You mean you never…you never hurt her?"

"I have no reason to."

Meg was silently rooting that her mother would approve. It was only a few seconds, but Meg was holding her breath as if it hoping beyond hope that her mother would let her be with Erik.

"I guess I can't force Meg to do anything I believed she ought to do with her life," Madame Giry looked at Meg and smiled. "Meg, love."

"Yes, Maman?"

"You've grown. Did you not realize? When I saw you last, you were such a scrawny little thing. Now…now you've blossomed into a woman. I'm sad to see you go so soon, but…"

"Maman?" Meg asked, looking at her mother with worry.

"I'm fine, mon chere," Madame Giry said, wiping tears away. "Uh…Monsier le Fantome?"

"Yes, Madame?"

"I can't protect Meg anymore. I leave her in your care."

Erik's POV

The wedding was going to begin soon. Gypsies had arrived left and right just to witness the event. There was dancing and drinking and a festival was held in preparation for the wedding.

Erik was waiting, the locket around his neck. The ceremony would begin at sundown.

Erik wondered what would happen to him now. After…what…three, four months…he was getting married to his beloved Meg, the young girl he saw blossom into a young woman over the last several weeks.

He didn't notice it until Madame Giry mentioned it. Meg had indeed bloomed into a young woman. Her bones were hardly visible, fleshed out. Her skin was a little healthier. Her hair had become slightly curly,but not extremely, her black eyes had a glint in them. Her flat chest had filled out at least a little bit, as well as her hips.

She was still pale and skinny though. But that didn't worry him. She was beautiful only for him.

"Erik, it's time."

"You sound like an executioner, Olivier."

"But It's so fun to freak you out."

"I'm not a kid anymore!"

Olivier pouted.

"That look doesn't suit you anymore, Olivier," Erik stated, heading outside to meet his bride to be.