Disclaimer: All references to the characters from the Gaston Leroux's The Phantom of the Opera belong to their pertinent parties and publishers. I do not claim ownership to the characters, any iteration from a major production of the same material, and / or the original source material.
De petite souris a monsieur chat: Chapter 21
February 1883: Erik's Lair Beneath the Opera House (or Erik's Libretto)
"How do you Parisians stand such cold weather?" Nadir complained upon entering the lair three weeks or so later. Meg looked up at the Persian. She wore a simple but fashionable blue top with her ever present grey shawl draped over her shoulders. She closed the book she held in her hands and laid it down on top of her charcoal gray skirt. She looked almost regal in the high back chair with her hair piled elegantly atop her head. Nadir stopped and glanced around looking for Erik. The girl wouldn't be here if Erik was not. A pair of black leather shoes poked out from the end of the couch while a pale elbow peeked out from the other end.
"We tend to stay indoors or travel south, Monsieur," Meg offered with a smile. "Or bundle up as much as possible before venturing out."
"I keep telling him to invest in a long overcoat, but the man doesn't listen," grumbled the sleepy voice of the Phantom from the couch. Nadir shook off his coat and removed his hat as he neared the pair. The fire blazed and the lair's lamps illuminated the normally gloomy home more than usual. To see such a relaxed Erik with a composed Meg made Nadir wonder if he was dreaming. The Phantom's dark voice still hinted at his relaxed state."You're late."
"I received your invitation to hear your libretto, but affairs kept me from coming at the suggested time," Nadir responded and moved to better see the strange scene in the lair. He regretted giving Erik the clock; the man had become a stickler for promptness. "However..." He looked from the masked man lounging on the red couch to the woman in the green chair. "Tell me, how this..." Nadir couldn't find the words so he gestured vaguely at them with his free hand. Meg and Erik exchanged a glance. Like a disgruntled cat, Erik stiffly removed himself from his relaxed position to sit up on the couch.
"For one, she holds me by the whiskers. Since my usual companion is absent so often, I find her company on occasion acceptable," Erik said rising to his feet. "Secondly, she agreed to critique my work since I have no one else available to listen. She at least has time for her actual patron. Thirdly, she offered to read while we waited for you."
"In truth, Erik was asleep for the past half-hour," Meg added and garnered a dirty look from him. She shrugged it off. "Don't let Erik badger you into feeling guilty for your tardiness." Still confused Nadir looked at the Phantom who stood by his desk back to the young ballerina who seemed unperturbed by the daggers the Ghost's eyes threw at her.
"Honestly, Mademoiselle, after our last meeting, I feared you would never venture down here again," Nadir said taking a seat on the couch.
"We have come to a truce, for lack of a better word," Meg said avoiding Nadir's earnest look. There was no other word really to call the uneasy friendship that had developed. Her voice became quiet as if she didn't want Erik to hear. "I'm sure the managers told you about my letter from her."
"Ahh, I wondered if our friend here knew or not. That was very courageous and dangerous of you to come here by yourself."
Meg was silent and Erik turned slightly so he could see her out of the corner of his eye. She didn't notice as her attention turned back to the book in her lap. "It seemed the right thing to do - to tell him myself. I worried what would happen if he found out after the fact or from yourself, Nadir." Lifting her gaze, she met Nadir's worried one. He wore the expression of her father when he scolded her once for walking the higher catwalks alone. "I know, foolish of me to think I can tangle with the Opera Ghost, but what else was I to do?"
"You shouldn't have risked your life again, Mademoiselle. You've seen how... fragile his emotions are," Nadir said cautiously. Erik clenched his fist and growled in his throat. The pair looked at him, and the Phantom turned away to focus on the papers on his desk.
"Like I said... we have a truce in effect," Meg reiterated.
"Are you both done?" Erik asked crossing his arms and leaning his hip against his desk. His skin prickled at their discussion; he wasn't used to people talking about him in his presence in his home. Granted, he had grown up with the whispers of voyeurs and domineering owners hovering over him. But Nadir and Meg were different people to him. "I invited you both to hear my libretto and NOT to discuss me." Having captured their attention, Erik smiled and picked up a small stack of papers he had shuffled together. "The music will be ready soon, but for now, the libretto is finished. I will simply read it so the reading may be faster."
Meg and Nadir listened patiently as Erik read his libretto to him. Meg smiled to herself hearing Erik change his voice in accordance with the gender of the role and watched him gesture for emphasis at points. In another life, Erik could've been an actor to rival England's E. S. Willard. The story was rather simple when stripped of its finery. Erik told a story of jealousy, betrayal, and love. The revenge story she had suggested months ago was nowhere to be found. In fact, the story reminded Meg of a romantic fairy tale. The story went like this:
Set in Persia, the tale begins with the fateful meeting of a pair of lovers - a young and beautiful palace attendant named Nasrin with a manly gardener called Roshan. Nasrin attends to the Sultana but falls behind to discuss the flowers with the young man. Love at first sight sparks between them and the flower becomes a metaphor of their love. The Sultana rebukes her attendant who obediently follows. The head gardener warns the Roshan not to fall in love with the girl but his warning falls on deaf ears. The girl later sings an aria explaining her blossoming love for the man.
The boy and girl attempt to meet once again during which they make plans to escape from their life of servitude. Nasrin had been sold into the Sultana's service while Roshan had been born into his role as servant. The duet about their ill-fated luck turns into the resounding song of Roshan promising his love to Nasrin as long as he lives. He sings of promises, of a new life far away in another land where they cannot be judged or forced to work for others. Unbeknownst to the young lovers, the Sultana has overheard their passionate exchange and vows to tear the hopeful couple apart. Not out of jealously or hatred, but out of sheer malice.
The beautiful and merciless Sultana first attempts to entice her father's assassin - a man without scruples who creates murderous machines to kill whoever the Sultan wishes called Peri- to do her bidding. She performs a seductive dance hoping to use the man's lust for her scheme. To her dismay, Peri denies her until she offers the one thing he desires most - his freedom. The assassin agrees to kill the young man that evening.
Meanwhile, the Sultan happens upon the young attendant and tells his daughter that he wishes to add the pretty girl to his harem. The Sultana obliging offers Nasrin to her father and to celebrate, she suggests a feast to be held the next day.
On the chosen night, the assassin Peri listens to the young man's pleas for mercy and offers of escape with him and his beloved. Turned by the love the young man conveys to him, the assassin hides him and shows the Sultana the heart of a pig instead of that of the man. Nasrin weeps out of despair and plans to commit suicide the next night.
At a large banquet, the Sultan celebrates his new addition to his harem and the assassin sees the beauty Roshan spoke of. She sings a mournful aria about a peri, or fairy, who wishes to atone for his penance and gain entry into Heaven. Moved by her song, the assassin attempts to speak to her and warn her that her lover lives. The Sultana, however, forcibly draws him into a dance and the message is not given.
Later that evening the young attendant waits in the Sultan's chambers awaiting the awful consummation of her new role. Nasrin pulls out a small dagger she has kept hidden and is about to plunge the knife into her chest. From the balcony, the assassin calls out for her to stop. Roshan rushes into the chamber and the lovers are reunited. The assassin urges them to leave, but the Sultana bursts through the doors into her father's chambers. The assassin attempts to protect the couple but is cut by the Sultana's poisoned knife. The lovers run to the balcony and the Sultana believes herself to be successful in her sadistic plot. However, the assassin manages to rise to his feet and takes up the young attendant's abandoned dagger. Peri stabs the Sultana in the back who dies. Nasrin cradles the assassin's head in her lap as he tells her he is indeed a peri, or fairy, seeking atonement for his lifetime of evil deeds. Peri tells the lovers of his gold hidden in the mountains and how to escape the palace without being detected. Together the lovers escape to enjoy their new found freedom.
Nadir shifted in his seat, noticeably uncomfortable, as Erik ended his libretto. Ire masked whatever appreciation he had had for Erik's work. He clenched and unclenched his hands trying to calm himself. He wanted to cry remembering his last days in Persia; he wanted to shout at the man for using their tale. In the end, his ire won out.
"You would use our tale for your opera, Azrael?" he asked in a trembling voice. His voice was quiet but it carried in the lair for all to hear. Meg's smile faltered at the strange name the Daroga used for Erik. His tone of voice sounded menacing. "Why not tell the truth?"
Erik gave a slow, dangerous smile. "I could not think of a better revenge, dear Daroga. I had hoped you would be happy. Maliaka survives in my opera. I gave us the ending we all deserved; the one Fate took away from you and me."
"That's not the point," Nadir shot back at Erik in a sudden and uncharacteristic outburst. The normally composed Persian rose to confront the Angel of Darkness. "You are telling a lie and exposing us at the same time! You are using us for your own gains. You are making yourself look like a hero when you weren't. You are using Her!" Nadir stood before Erik, toe to toe with a tear trailing down his cheek.
"You manipulative, unfeeling bastard... How DARE you do this?"
"What would you have me do? Kill Malaika again? Over and over, performance after performance?"Erik retorted keeping his voice low and menacing. Meg looked from Erik to the Persian and back again unsure of what was taking place. "You already see it night after night in your dreams… Why not enjoy it played out on a stage?"
"They are nightmares and not dreams. I have nightmares of that night," Nadir replied accentuating the words. His voice rose in anger again. "And they are a far better tribute to her sacrifice than a flamboyant and inaccurate story played out on stage! Maliaka's memory deserves better than a silly, theatrical farce that means to offer you some solace for your past life, Azrael!"
"I told you not to call me that name..."
"Change the opera, Azrael. Tell a story about some horrible monster and a beautiful singer instead. At least that is more fact than fiction."
"Don't call me that name..."
Meg nearly flew from her chair to put herself between the men. The Phantom raised his fist to strike the Persian who refused to back away. He didn't see Meg fly between them. He felt his upward thrust fist in Meg's abdomen and heard her gasp. She doubled over into Nadir's hands as he caught her crumbling form. He felt the stays of her corset split underneath her blue top from the force of his punch. What have I done? In shock, Erik pulled away and took a step back. A touch of fear gripped him and his anger left him.
"Meg... I didn't..."
"See what you've done, Azrael? You are only capable of hurting others," Nadir muttered at the masked man. He didn't care that his words visibly hurt the Phantom; he deserved what was coming to him in the end. The Persian held onto Meg as he took a step back, but she slipped out of his hands and fell onto the rug. Crouching down, Nadir ignored Erik who seemed frozen where he stood.
"Mdm. Giry? Can you breathe?"
"That... hurt," she breathed in a painful voice before coughing. The bone stays of her corset dug painfully into her abdomen. When she found her breath again, Meg tried to sit up and winced at the pain.
"You made me do this, Daroga," the Phantom said in a quiet voice. If it hadn't been for your foolish comments, the thought tugged at his anger.
"I didn't make you do anything, Azrael," the man retorted with a glare. "You should take responsibility for your actions instead of blaming someone else for them."
"You idiot! If you weren't so blinded by the candle you hold for Maliaka's memory," Erik rejoined clenching his fists so tight his knuckles were white. How he wished he had a Punjab lasso at hand to make Nadir listen to reason. He had wanted to make things right the only way he knew how; he wanted to avenge her death, give them all some form of peace. He wanted to show the world her sacrifice, Nadir's devotion, and… how a monster was made, but most of all, Erik wanted to immortalize Maliaka and perhaps… find a little redemption in this life he had been given. That was what Erik had wanted, and Nadir refused to see it that way.
"Heh. The pot calling the kettle black..." Meg muttered and both men broke away from their contest of wills to look at her. She smiled as she pushed herself off the rug ungracefully. Her voice didn't carry the same breath as it had earlier. "You men. Grow up."
Erik walked away from them to sit at his piano. He began to play a torrid song filled with dissonant keys. It's all because of him. You wouldn't have broken your promise to Meg if he hadn't provoked you. In fact, why does it matter that you broke your promise to such a brat? She shouldn't have interfered. Such a silly, fool-hardy girl! He barely heard Meg's conversation with Nadir. What have I done? In tune to the song he played, his inner voice taunted and laughed at Erik's inner turmoil.