So, home for the summer, won't be updating all that often cuz I don't have a constant internet connection. I'm not allowed to spend all my time on the computer here at home like I do at college...so updates will be few and far between. Sorry about that.
Also, you need to know that my version of Erik is more like Gerard Butler than Gaston Leroux's version so far as looks are concerned. Just so you know. (And though the siren in the lake is actually Erik in Gaston's novel, for my story, there's actually a siren living there.)
I'm sure you all know the spiel by now, I don't own Phantom, fic takes place in present day, blah blah blah, REVIEW…..
Lenore lay in the bed, staring the ceiling as Erik slept next to her. This is, without a doubt, the worst dilemma of my life. I can try to sneak out and get my sister out of here so she'll be safe…but if I get caught, she dies. Yet if I don't at least warn her, he'll kill her and she won't have the smallest inkling what brought on her death, because it's impossible that I can behave forever. I will slip up eventually; it's just a matter of time.
So, let's say I do go, and that I don't get caught. Ember and I can leave Paris, just go back home. True, it'll be a pain to get someone to sell this place for me, but that's nothing compared to what we'll avoid. But then on the other hand, if I get caught, he kills Ember. And if I don't go warn her at all, she'll probably end up dead anyway…This is a decision no one should ever have to make.
Lenore carefully got out of the bed, making sure not to disturb Erik. She tiptoed out of the bedroom into the lair, up to the edge of the lake. She knew she would never be able to handle the gondola, but she didn't need it for what she was planning. She took a step into the lake, and the cold water seemed to urge her to return to the warm bed, to give up this silly quest. It's for Ember, just remember that. She put her other foot in, and began walking forward, immersing herself deeper, about to her waist before she started shivering. Her feet and hands were beginning to feel numb, and she knew she needed to start swimming, but it was torture to make her limbs propel herself through the water, out into the darkness of the underground.
She pulled herself through the water determinedly, until her shivering finally stopped and she couldn't feel anything in her arms or legs at all. Wait, why am I out here again? Ember, that's right…not like it really matters…not like anything really matters. Suddenly, something grabbed her leg, yanking her under the surface. It had been too dark to see anything above water and below the surface Lenore could imagine she was floating in space, except for the fact that she was holding her breath.
"Pretty little girl, why are you all alone?" a mellifluous female voice inquired. "I'll be your friend, you can come and live with me. I'll give you everything you want. Lots of delicious sweets, beautiful clothes, jewelry that would make a queen seem a pauper." It was the most appealing thing she'd ever heard, somehow, and she was more than willing to go with this voice that offered her everything. "All you have to do is take a breath. Just breathe in, and you can stay with me forever. You'll never grow old, and you'll have everything. I'll give you the world, if that's what will make you happy. Come with me and be my friend."
Without a second thought, Lenore released the oxygen in her lungs and took in a mouthful of water. She felt a horrible burning pain in her throat as she spat it out, trying to take another breath but only succeeding in consuming more water. She began thrashing around, trying to get back to the surface, but strong arms were wrapped around her waist. Slowly, her thrashing began to lessen, and she knew she was losing consciousness. She tried to hold what little oxygen she had left in, tried to resist the need to empty her lungs of the water that was flooding them. When she felt something brush against fingers, she instinctively grabbed hold.
Erik felt a tug on the oar and almost lost his grip. Quickly changing his stance, he began pulling the oar up, but something tugged it down in response. "Damn wench," he muttered, not sure if he meant Lenore or the siren. Maybe it was for both of them. When Lenore's hand broke the surface of the water, he reached out and pried her death grip off of the oar, then jerked on her arm, pulling her half out of the lake and into the gondola. She coughed ferociously, ridding her lungs of water as the siren, arms wrapped tightly around Lenore's waist, growled viciously at Erik.
"She is mine, Phantom, she came to me," the siren snarled in a voice that sounded like sandpaper grating on stone.
"I brought her down here, therefore she belongs to me," Erik argued. "I gave you three mortals today. Was that not enough, you gluttonous btch?"
"She came to me," the siren repeated.
"You will not devour my pet, or I will gut you like the worthless fish you truly are," he hissed. With a shrill, angry shriek, the siren released Lenore and slid back into the murky depths. Hauling the rest of her into the boat, Erik noted that Lenore had finished coughing and was hovering on the edge of consciousness, shivering violently. Moderate hypothermia and a near-drowning…what were you thinking? I specifically told you to stay away from the lake.
Throwing his cloak over her drenched form, Erik lost no time in returning to the lair. He needed to get her warmed up, before she slipped into severe hypothermia and required professional help. The moment the gondola touched the stone floor of his dwelling, he threw his cloak out of the boat and proceeded to strip her on the spot, as she was now unconscious. It was imperative that he get her out of those wet clothes as soon as possible. Every article must be removed. Though he knew she'd be positively livid when she learned he had seen her naked, he personally valued her life over her pride and dignity.
The bodice was the first to go, followed immediately by the brassiere. He wanted to rip these garments off quickly and be done with it, but he had to go slowly, taking great care to be gentle. Hypothermia weakened the heart, and any handling that was less than gentle could kill her.
The skirt was next, and he inadvertently stopped to stare at her lower legs. Below her knees, the skin was covered in third degree burns and scars from where the surgeons must have gone in to fix whatever was wrong. The nature of the burns left dents in her flesh and muscle tissue, likening her legs to a region of valleys and hills. He could barely find an inch of skin that wasn't marred between her knees and ankles.
Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, he removed the last of her undergarments, leaving her entirely bare before him. Gently lifting her into his arms, he stepped out of the gondola and carried her to the bed. After setting her down, he yanked off his shirt and boots, silently thanking God that she'd had enough damn sense to do this at night when he wasn't wearing a cravat, waistcoat, and frock coat, as it would've taken a bit longer to get down to his skin. His pants were thin, and heat would be easily transferred through the fabric, so he didn't waste time removing them.
Lying down next to her, Erik pulled the blankets up over the two of them, wrapping the covers as tightly as possible around Lenore to prevent as much heat loss as possible. He then held her in his arms, her bare breasts pressed against his chest. Wanton desire flooded him, and it was pure torture to know that all he had to do was remove his slacks; she would never know.
Lenore moaned. If this was death, it sucked. Her muscles ached, her lungs felt raw, and she was wrapped up so tightly, she couldn't even move. "Am I dead?" she rasped, hoping for a particular answer, be it from St. Peter or the Devil.
"No, you're fine." It was Erik who replied.
"Damn you, I was fine where I was, I didn't need help," she complained. She wasn't quite alert yet, one of the lingering effects of hypothermia.
"You almost drowned," Erik pointed out. "And you managed to contract moderate hypothermia. What were you thinking? I told you not to go in the lake, you could've been killed."
"That was the idea, now go put me back where you found me so I can get on with it," she snapped. Slowly, things were being to dawn on her. I'm naked…Erik is holding me, and he's not wearing a shirt… "Please tell me that's not what I think it is," she mumbled when she felt something hard pressing against her upper thigh region. He neglected to respond, which assured her it was exactly what she thought it was. Dear God, he's huge! How can it possibly fit in any girl? Wait a minute, if I'm naked… "I hate you."
"It was necessary to save your life, ma chérie," he sighed, knowing what had brought that statement about.
"Well, now you know why no one will want me," she snarled. He had no right to do that, to look at her legs, all those horrible scars. He slowly began extricating himself from Lenore and the blankets. "Where are you going? Please, don't kill Ember, it's not her fault."
"Calm yourself, I'm not leaving you in this state. I'm merely going to make you something hot to drink, as it is more effective to warm a hypothermia victim from the inside than the outside," he explained.
"I don't like hot tea," Lenore warned him.
"Tea is out of the question. It has caffeine, which causes water loss, and you need as much water in your system as possible to aid in your recovery."
Erik left, and Lenore sighed heavily. The whole idea was to die so that Ember would be safe…how did he know that I'd left? How did he know to look in the lake for me? I mean, I didn't take the gondola, the logical assumption would be that I was going over a dry route… A squeak sounded from nearby. Oh damn, it was probably the rat! I bet it saw me get in the lake, and then came to wake up Erik. Well, next time, I'll just take the rat with me.
Cristoph crawled up onto her bosom, settling himself down right between her breasts. "What do you think you're doing?" she mumbled. "Don't try to fool me with this cute, sleepy animal thing, I know you're evil." It seemed an eternity before Erik returned with a steaming mug. "Get the rat off."
"He's trying to make sure you stay warm," Erik explained, ignoring her request. After having her drink the hot chocolate he had fixed, he inquired about her little escapade. "What were you trying to accomplish, Mademoiselle?"
"I was trying to kill myself so my sister would be safe, obviously," she replied. "But it doesn't matter, because she's as good as dead now."
Erik looked at her for a minute, as if calculating something. "I will let it slide, just this once," he finally said. "Only because of your condition, ma chérie. I will not see you have a relapse."
Erik looked at his watch on the table. Another hour had passed. Setting down his brush and palette, he returned to the bedroom to check on Lenore. She was sitting up in bed, reading a book, with Cristoph on her lap. She was becoming quite good at letting Cristoph perch on her.
"I'm fine, Erik," she said, not even looking up from her reading. "It's been two weeks now, I would think the danger is past. You don't need to check on me every hour."
"I'm merely making sure you don't try to run off and attempt suicide again," Erik lied, not wanting to admit that he was worried about her.
"That's what your rat is doing. My mother may have raised an idiot, but it most certainly wasn't me. You never leave my side unless Cristoph is with me. Did you think I wouldn't catch on to that?" Closing the book, she set it down beside her. "Can I at least get out of bed?"
"You shouldn't rush your recovery," he replied.
"It's been two weeks, Erik! Two! A full fourteen days! It's not like I had severe, death-is-imminent-without-professional-help hypothermia! I think I can take the risk of getting out of bed!" Without waiting for his approval, Lenore moved Cristoph and threw back the covers, swinging her legs out over the side of the bed.
Erik strode over and glared down at her. "You need your rest," he insisted.
"Yeah, well, when a doctor tells me that, I'll listen. Unless you can show me a Ph.D., you might as well give up," she replied, standing. Her legs wobbled a bit beneath her, and she grabbed onto Erik's shirt to keep from falling. "See? No problem."
"You almost fell."
"But I didn't."
Knowing she was determined to get out of the bedroom whether he condoned it or not, Erik swept her legs out from under her and carried her out to his studio. He could show her the painting, as he had just finished it. Of course, the paint wasn't dry, and he had yet to sign his name, but other than that, it was complete.
"My God," she breathed the moment she saw it. She reached a hand up to touch the canvas and Erik grabbed her hand before she could smear the paint.
"It's still not dry yet, ma chérie," he informed her.
It was a painting of her, lying in a field of roses, naked. Thorny vines snaked around her body in various places, and a rose in full bloom was placed in the area where her thighs met. Her favorite part of the painting was her legs, for they were perfect on the canvas. "My God," Lenore repeated. "It's…amazing…You're an artistic genius, how many people can paint like this, play and write music like you do? I hate you now, I can't do anything like this. You can sew, and cook, and read minds…is there anything you don't do?"
"Well, I don't recall having flown before, but then again, I've never really tried," Erik replied with a grin.
"Do you think that maybe I could go aboveground today?" Lenore suggested. "I mean, Ember's probably worried, and I know my mom's gonna be upset because I haven't called."
"I suppose I could allow it, on one condition," he said. "You must stay in your bed; you are still too weak to be up in my opinion."
"Alright," she agreed. After all, it was better than nothing. And he probably wouldn't be watching the whole time, so she could sneak out of bed at some point. Of course, she'd have to be quick, so he wouldn't catch her breaking rules, but she wasn't too worried. If push came to shove and she couldn't get back to bed quickly under her own power, Ember could always carry her.
Rosalyn got off the phone feeling remarkably proud of herself. She had just managed to land another dinner date with the owner of a large corporation. If all went as well as she hoped, the Opera Populaire would have another patron by the end of the week. Beaumont's company had agreed to support the business, on the condition that, should something go wrong and the business go under, their company would not have to try to sell the building to someone else.
"Welcome back, Mademoiselle Kendall," the Phantom's voice rang out. "So nice to have you with us again."
"Well, what can I say? I'm a sucker for near-death by strangulation experiences," Rosalyn replied sarcastically. "Get to the point, please, I have work to do."
"Lenore is in her room, if you wish to see her," he informed her.
Without giving him a response, Rosalyn quickly made her way from the office to Lenore's room, grabbing Ember from the ballet dormitories on the way. Rosalyn opened the door and Ember rushed into her sister's room, flinging herself onto the poor unsuspecting girl in the bed.
"Be careful," Lenore grumbled. "If you're too rough, Erik'll take me back down and I won't get to see you for a long time."
"Why?" Rosalyn asked, seeing no point in wasting this precious visit exchanging pleasantries.
"To make a long story short, I had mild hypothermia and almost drowned, and when you have hypothermia, your heart is weak, so rough handling can kill you. That was two weeks ago though…He really needs to stop fussing over me like I'm deathly ill," Lenore complained.
"Hypothermia…What were you doing in the lake? You're not even allowed out of the bedroom without permission, I can't possibly see him allowing you to take a swim," Ember replied.
"I was breaking the rules and trying to commit suicide to keep you safe. You see, if I misbehave or make him angry, he's going to kill you. So I figured if I killed myself, then he wouldn't have any reason to kill you." Lenore proceeded to tell them about her suicide attempt. A slight blush covered her cheeks when she stopped at the part where she was barely conscious in the gondola.
"And then what?" Rosalyn inquired, knowing there was more to this story.
"Nothing, I was unconscious," Lenore answered, the blush intensifying.
"Well, what happened when you regained consciousness then?" Ember prodded.
"Nothing."
"Well, since you can't tell us, we won't give you your presents," Ember said with a smirk.
"Presents?"
"Tomorrow's your birthday, idiot," Ember informed her sister. "How could you forget?"
"There isn't a calendar in the lair, it's easy to loose track of the date," Lenore mumbled in defense. "And you can't keep my birthday presents from me."
"Oh yeah? I should think it'd be rather easy."
"I'll get them myself," Lenore said defiantly, throwing back the covers and preparing to get out of bed.
"Did I not make it clear that you are to stay in bed?" Erik's voice sounded throughout the room.
"You planned this, didn't you?" Lenore accused her sister.
"Well, you said he was fussing over you, so I figured there was a good chance you weren't allowed to get up," Ember said with a cruel smile. "Now spill or no presents."
"Devious wench," Lenore muttered. "Fine. I woke up in bed with Erik, naked."
"Did you"-
"No, you pervert, get your mind out of the gutter."
"But life is so much more fun down here," Ember teased.
"Rosalyn, this is absolutely beautiful," Lenore said, looking at the necklace she had received from her friend. It was a cross necklace, with blue and white cubic zirconias set into the gold cross. "It must have cost a lot."
"I guess; my cousin said she got it from her ex-boyfriend and didn't want it anymore, so she gave it to me. And you know I don't really wear jewelry all that often, so I figured you'd appreciate it much more than me," Rosalyn explained.
"I will," Lenore assured her, already in the process of fastening the chain around her neck.
"This is from Mom," Ember said, handing Lenore an envelope.
"A phone card," Lenore sighed after opening it. "Could she be any more subtle?"
"Is the coast clear, Rosalyn?" Ember suddenly whispered.
"All clear," her friend responded.
"Alright. For your twenty-first birthday, I got you something extra special," Ember told her sister, handing her the package. "I want you to use it as soon as possible, understand?"
"Um…sure…?" Lenore said, tearing off the wrapping and opening the box. She pulled out a black, lacy, halter top gown. "Sis, what is this?"
"It's a nightgown, silly," her sister replied with a mischievous grin.
"I'm supposed to sleep in this?"
"Whoever said anything about sleeping?"
"You're positively awful," Lenore giggled. "There's no way I'm wearing this."
"But it'll make you look soooo fuckable," Ember said. "Erik won't be able to keep his hands off you."
"No, I'm not going to seduce him into sleeping with me," Lenore argued.
"Hey Lenore, you said that because of the hypothermia, Erik didn't want anyone to handle you too roughly. So he doesn't let you do anything that might be too…strenuous right?" Rosalyn asked.
"I know exactly where you're going with this, and I'm not telling you whether or not he undresses me at night," Lenore snarled.
"That means he does," Ember squealed before she and Rosalyn launched themselves onto Lenore.