A/N: Okay, new chapter! This takes place two years sfter the last chapter, and jumps right into the movie. Thank you to those who have read my story, I hope you like this chapter.
"Mademoiselle StClair! Mama is asking for you!" Meg Giry stood in the door of Calliope's workroom. The costume mistress looked up from the costume she was fixing for one of the dancers.
"I'll be just a moment. Where is she?"
"Onstage. M. LeFevre will be introducing the new managers and the new patron today." Meg replied. Calliope chuckled as she set her work aside and followed the blond ballerina to the stage. Madame Giry stood near the dancers, who were going through their steps in costume. Calliope made a note of how the costume's fit the girls, smiling warmly at Christine.
"Hello, petit. I wanted you to be here when we meet the new managers." Madame said. Calliope nodded and moved to adjust one of the dancer's outfits. They were performing Hannibal, and the costume were bringing back memories for the young costume mistress. Of course, the girls had no idea how to properly garb themselves, and had swarmed Calliope when they realized she had been making similar outfits for years. The downside to this particular opera was that the Prima Donna, Carlotta had returned. Carlotta had taken an instant dislike to the young costume mistress, always blaming her for the slightest problem with her costumes. Calliope had been overjoyed when the alleged opera ghost had driven her away six months before, but bow she was back, along with her entourage and her lover, the tenor Piangi. Calliope moved back to stand next to Madame Giry as M. LeFevre swept onstage with three other men. Two were middle aged, and Calliope assumed they were the managers, while the third was a few years her junior, with handsome features, and wavy brown hair. The way he dressed seemed to scream wealth, and Calliope would bet he was a noble of some kind.
"Madams and Monsieur's, as you all know, this is my last week as the manager here at the Opera Populaire. I am pleased to introduce M. Andre and M. Firmin, your new managers, as well as the Vicompt De Changy, your new patron." M. LeFevre said. A light smattering of applause greeted this little speech. Madame Giry approached calmly, Calliope at her side.
"Monsieurs, I am Madame Giry, the ballet mistress. This is Mademoiselle StClair, our costume mistress." she said, the two women curtseying slightly. Just then, Carlotta tramped onstage, shoving Calliope out of the way as she fluttered her eyelashes at the Vicompt. Calliope glared at the Spanish diva, before moving back toward the dancers.
"Are you alright, Roux?" Christine whispered, using her nickname for Calliope. Calliope nodded, glaring at Carlotta's back.
"I am fine, Rossignol. It will take more than that snippy hag to get me." she whispered back, earning a small giggle from the dancer. She glanced back just in time to see Carlotta preparing to sing an aria, and winced visibly. Carlotta was well past her prime, and the high notes of the aria made many people's ears hurt for hours. Carlotta's performance was thankfully cut short when a backdrop fell on her, drawing cries of fear from several of the ballet rats and forced Calliope to clap her hands over her mouth to stop from laughing out loud. Suddenly, two of the dancers screamed, crying out that they had seen the opera ghost. Calliope rolled her eyes at their cries, and inwardly jumped for joy when Carlotta began to shriek.
"Until you stoppa this from happening, this thing does not happen!" she cried, storming off the stage. Calliope grinned inwardly at the witch's retreating form.
"Who will we get to perform in the opera if not Carlotta?" M. Andre asked.
"Christine Daae can sing it, sir. I assure you that she is incredibly talented." Calliope said. The two managers looked at the pair.
"The chorus girl?" M. Firmin asked, incredulous.
"She has been well taught." Calliope replied, pushing the young dancer forward. Slowly, Christine began to sing the same aria Carlotta had been butchering, only her voice rose clear and perfect. Everyone assembled gazed at her in awe as her voice rose through the opera house. When she had finished her demonstration, the new managers turned to look at Calliope.
"Do you have enough time to adjust the costume's before tomorrow?" M. Andre asked. Calliope nodded.
"If I get started right away." she replied, grabbing Christine's hand and pulling her back into the workroom. Once there, she pulled the younger woman into a bone crushing hug.
"Oof! Roux, you're crushing me again." Christine teased. Calliope pulled back grinning madly.
"I am so happy that you will finally be able to show of that voice of yours! Your father would be so proud of you." she said.
"I owe it all to my Angel. If he had not taught me, I would never have this chance." Christine replied. Calliope pushed her into the white gown and onto the stand so she could begin to pin it up.
"I wish I could thank him. With you in the lead, I don't have to deal with that banshee and her horrendous 'improvements' to her costumes." Calliope replied. Christine laughed as Calliope continued to adjust the costume. Over the next few hours, the two women took turns singing to each other. While Christine was always telling her that she had a lovely singing voice, Calliope had made the young soprano swear not to tell a soul. Christine had agreed upon see the fear in her friend's eyes.
If there was one thing that Erik could not resist, it was a puzzle. He would pore over them for ages until they finally revealed their secrets to him. When Mademoiselle StClair had first arrived two years before, he had taken note of her foreign coloring, and noted that she was rather beautiful, but what surprised him was how easily she and Christine had become friends, despite the costume mistress being eight years older than the soprano. He had dismissed her for the most part, deeming her as terribly shy, and not worth his attention. Her work always seemed to enhance the operas, so she was left alone. He learned from his angel that the young woman did not fear him as the Phantom, and indeed was doubtful as to his existence. Yet at the same time, she knew of him as Christine's Angel of Music, and readily accepted that side of him, even allowing the soprano the use of her private rooms for her lessons, and encouraging her to practice in the costume rooms while she herself was working. Slowly, Erik had determined that their was more to Mademoiselle StClair than met the eye, and today he found another facet to the puzzle. This woman had a voice that could almost rival Christine's. He could not understand why she hid herself away, and let only Christine hear her voice. Quickly, he moved to the hidden passage near the hall she took to her rooms. Along the way, the costume mistress was cornered by the stagehand, Joseph Bouquet.
"Come with me petit, and I will show you Paradise." he leered. She swiftly brought her knee up into his groin, pushing him away from her. Growling, Bouquet went to reach for her again when she pulled a dagger from her skirts and pressed it against his leg.
"Try it, and you will be a soprano before you can blink." she hissed.
"One of these days you won't have that dagger, StClair, and when that day comes, I will be waiting." he snarled. Her amethyst eyes were hard, and her smile was cold as ice.
"If I do not fear the opera ghost, what makes you think I fear a pig like you?" she replied. Bouquet muttered as he stalked off. The costume mistress watched him go , her fingers still tightly gripping her dagger. Erik was impressed with the way she handled herself. As he studied her more carefully, he noted that she was not so dark skinned that she seemed obviously foreign, but at the same time she was far from a pale skinned European woman. He idly wondered if her mother had been the foreign one or if it had been her father. She sighed as Bouquet vanished around the corner and looked up and down the corridors before leaning forward slightly. Erik bit back a gasp as she proceeded to lift her skirts, revealing bare skin up to her upper thigh, where a sheath for the dagger was revealed. He had never spied on the women of the opera house before, but he could not turn away from the sight before him. She calmly slid her dagger into it's sheath and pulled her skirt back over her leg. She wore no petticoats, no corset. Mademoiselle StClair was obviously a pragmatic woman. He watched as she moved into her rooms and did not leave until her door was shut firmly behind her. As he returned to his lair, the image of that smooth skin beneath the dagger's hilt was burned into his memory.
Calliope sighed to herself as she sat down near her fireplace, where a tea tray sat next to her book. Christine's debut had been spectacular, and the Vicompt himself had come to call on the soprano. Calliope had ushered her out the door, despite the girl's protests.
"But, Roux, my teacher will be terribly angry. I really shouldn't." Christine had said.
"Christine, I can think of no reason why your Angel would deny you happiness. And if he does get upset, send him to talk to me." Calliope had replied, hands on her hips. With a laugh at her friend's attitude, she had allowed herself to be ushered out the door, where Calliope had extracted a promise from the Vicompt that the soprano would be returned at a reasonable hour. Now, the costume mistress picked up her book, absently pouring a cup of tea as she found the page she had left off at. She smiled as she read a few passages of The Odyssey, and sipped at her tea. She frowned at the faint taste of something she did not recognize. She continued to read, dimly aware of the festivities in the barracks celebrating a successful show. As she sipped her tea, she became aware of the sense that she was not alone. Slowly, she drew her dagger from it's sheath, holding it lightly in one hand. Setting down her book casually, she went to stand and swung her blade up swiftly. A strong hand grasped her wrist and spun her around, holding the blade straight out from her body while another arm pinned her free hand against her body, pulling her back against a strong, broad chest.
"I have never given you reason to fear me, Mademoiselle, for you have never given me reason to be upset with you. But you will have to learn not to meddle in the affairs of others. I have plans for Christine, and I can't have her gallivanting with that fool Vicompt." a silken voice whispered in her ear. She tried to struggle, but found her arms too heavy to move. But her voice was still available to her.
"If you dare to harm Christine in any way, I swear you will regret it." she hissed. That velvet voice chuckled.
"Even now, you are defiant. You are quite amusing Mademoiselle." he said, catching her as her knees gave out beneath her. Realization dawned on her then.
"You drugged my tea? Why?" she asked as her dagger fell to the floor.
"You assume I would not be angry with my angel. And that is true. But I am upset with you." he whispered in her ear, scooping her up and carrying her to her bed, laying her down. Her vision dimmed, but she caught a glimpse of blazing green eyes as her attacker stood and swept away before darkness consumed her.
A/N: Yay, another chapter! Okay, reviews are better than gold, so please press the green button!