Disclaimer: The Phantom of the Opera does not belong to me (though I think if it were up to him, he wouldn't belong to anyone), only my own characters do.
Author's Note:
To phantommistress: Well you may love the brownies, but I don't think Erik is quite so fond of them (especially after this chapter). Also it's not a coincidence that Beltane is May 1st, that is the actual day. If you want to know more just check it out in Wikipedia.
To xXThAnKs-FoR-tHe-MeMoRiEsXx: I hope this one was also worth the wait as well, I wound up putting more in it than I first counted on.
To foxgodess07: Yeah, I think everyone is figuring out that the pixie is oversexed, including Erik. And hey, what can I say? Brownies lend themselves to comedy so well.
To Giverny: I'm glad you like the writing; I really try to write things exactly as I see them in my mind. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.
To uhluhtc: Keep on reading and you'll see where the story goes.
To xX-Crayola-Xx: Your wait for chapter 12 is at an end.
To SafetyPinStitches: Glad you're lovin' it. Enjoy this chapter as well.
I also want to thank everyone that has signed up for updates and marked it as a favorite; you also keep me writing and don't be afraid to write a review. I don't bite…well…not hard anyway ;-).
The picture will be done this weekend.
Thanks to all who have read and reviewed; the more you review, the more I write. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to a few more players in this story.
Phantom of the Glen
Chapter 12
Ale, How Much Is too Much?
Erik stopped playing and looked down when he felt a tug on his pant leg. "Yes Brule?" he asked turning to better look at the brownie.
"She finished," he announced. "She's going to cool off at the stream and wants' to know if you can bring her a couple of bath sheets."
"Of course," he nodded. "By the way, where has your partner in crime gotten off to?"
"Ah, he's arguing with the pixie in the forge," Brule replied. "I hear you're going to the inn after the delivery."
"Yes and no you can't come along. S'ray already told me how the three of you became banned from the inn," Erik replied.
"Damn," the brownie cursed. "Oh well, Beltane will be in two weeks. We get to go to that!"
"So I've been told," he said standing. "You can let S'ray know I'll be there shortly."
"Will do," he said and scurried off.
Erik went to the wash room and took two bath sheets from the cupboard. The he walked out the door and toward the stream that ran through the glen. As he neared the stream, he saw something lying in the grass. He got closer and realized it was the shirt S'ray had been wearing when she went out to the forge that morning. He went a little farther and also saw her breeches in the grass. He neared the stream and saw her pantaloons hanging on the branch of a willow.
Erik swallowed, the trail of clothes could mean only one thing; S'ray was naked, again. He knew she didn't do it on purpose, but the sight of her naked flesh always enflamed him lately. He moved slowly, hoping to catch sight of her before he saw too much of her.
Worst of all, he wasn't sure why he was feeling this way toward her. Naturally he had desired Christine and his heart had always beat faster when he was near her. But it wasn't this all-consuming ache that made his heart pound wildly and his blood burn in his veins when he was near S'ray. It wasn't just the way she dressed that aroused him. There was her wild mane of honey-colored hair; he couldn't count the number of times during their music lessons that he had to fight the urge to bury his face and hands in her tresses. Then there was her perfume; he didn't know what it was, but it was so damn intoxicating.
He reached the stream, turned in the direction of some splashing water and stopped dead in his tracks. Her back was to him, the water not even coming up to her naked hips. The urge to wade into the water, pull her body tight against his and bury his face in her neck was almost undeniable.
"Hi Erik," she smiled turning to face him, one arm covering her breasts. "Care to join me?"
Good God, but he wanted to do just that and more. "No thank you," he managed to say after several moments of silence,
"Suit yourself, but the water is wonderful," she said wading into a deeper pool.
"Perhaps next time," he said backing away. "I've got to get back and start dinner."
"See you in a bit then," she said gliding out to float on her back, water glistening on her tanned skin.
Erik turned and started to briskly walk back to the house. Once he was out of earshot, he stopped and leaned heavily against an oak. He closed his eyes and tried to slow his labored breathing. Oh but the sight of S'ray naked and wet had made him hard. He clutched the sheets to his chest, trying to drive the image from his mind. He thought of sweet Christine and of how wrong it was to have such thoughts about another woman. He gritted his teeth and tried to force away his arousal by sheer force of his own indomitable will. It wasn't working, he still wanted to crush S'ray to himself and do everything he'd ever dreamed about with Christine and more.
He heard a giggle in the tree above him. His eyes snapped open and he looked up. "S'ray says you forgot to leave the sheets," Luniana grinned from the branch overhead.
Erik groaned inwardly, he had to go back and he wasn't certain he'd be able to control himself this time. He turned and walked back to the stream, praying that she wouldn't notice his aroused state.
"A mighty oak has arisen in the forest," Luniana trilled as she flew past S'ray.
"A mighty oak? The forest is full of mighty oaks," S'ray said puzzled.
"You'll see," the pixie giggled and flew off.
S'ray shrugged and went back to leisurely swimming around the pool. She heard footsteps; turned and saw Erik come back with the sheets. "Forget something?" she smiled swimming closer to the shore. As he approached S'ray suddenly caught the meaning of the pixie's words.
Erik's breath caught in his throat at the sight her swimming toward him.
"Peek-a-boo!" Brandji shouted jumping out from behind a rock. "I know what you're thinking about."
The phantom turned a deep shade of crimson at the brownie's blunt observation. "I'll. . . I'll just leave these here," he stammered setting the sheets down on a rock within easy reach of the water.
"Thanks Erik," she smiled, trying not to let on that she'd noticed his obvious reaction to seeing her in the stream.
He nodded, turned and walked briskly back to the cottage.
Erik lay back on his pillows and pulled the blankets up. It was still early, but they'd gone to bed anyway because tomorrow would be a long day. He lay there staring up at the darkened ceiling when he heard little feet patter into the room.
"If you want my opinion," Brandji said sitting in front of the fireplace, "you should take her to bed and get it over with."
"Yeah," Brule agreed. "The wait is killing us."
"Go away," Erik growled. "I don't need advice from the two of you."
"Well, you sure need something," Brule replied.
"Yeah, you need to go upstairs and bed the Guardian," Brandji said.
"No, she's not interested in me," Erik ground out, turning away from the brownies.
"Hah, shows what you know about women," Brandji laughed.
"Yeah, she's just playing hard to get," Brule added. "At least we think she is."
"Hey, you remember that knife she gave you?" Brandji asked.
"Yes," Erik sighed, sensing that if he didn't humor them he'd never get to sleep.
"It belonged to Tereste, that was one of his and she gave it to you," Brandji said.
"And?" Erik asked.
"You dim-witted half-goblin, that knife belonged to her dead husband," Brandji said impatiently jumping up and down.
"It means she likes you," Brule interpreted.
"A lot, you just need to make the right moves and before you know it you'll be sleeping upstairs with her," Brandji said.
"Yeah, instead of on the floor in front of the fire like a dog," Brule added.
"Not interested," Erik replied, silently pondering the meaning of the knife.
"Hey we're guys too, we know what it's like to not get any for a while," Brandji said walking around his head to face him. "It starts to get on your nerves, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, we're lucky if we get laid once a year," Brule continued.
"I really didn't need to know that," Erik replied trying to get the image from his mind.
"And if you really need to, you know, take care of business, we don't care," Brandji hinted.
"Get out of here!" Erik yelled at the brownie.
They squeaked and jumped, then turned tail and ran out of the room.
The trade with the goblins went smoothly; Erik stayed off to the side, keeping the pack horses calm. He watched the goblins melt back into the forest before mounting his horse and leading the pack horses to where S'ray waited.
"That looked like it went well," he said coming up beside her.
"As well as it could go. I don't like dealing with goblins, they tend to get greedy," she replied as they started down the trail toward the village. "Present company excluded of course."
"Of course," he nodded.
"Good day, Guardian S'ray," the inn keeper smiled as they entered the Francisca. "Your party is waiting in the common room. And here is the key to your room as well."
"Thank you Francois," she replied dropping some coins on the counter and taking the key. Then turning to Erik she said, "It's the second door on the right, Erik."
Erik nodded as she went upstairs. "Do you have a messenger that can be trusted?" he asked the inn keeper.
"Of course Monsieur, my own son will take a message for you in the strictest of confidence," Francois replied.
"Good, have him take this letter to the address on it," Erik said pulling a sealed letter from his coat. "And make sure he delivers it into the hands of Madame Giry only."
"Of course sir," the inn keeper nodded. "Would you like him to wait for a reply as well?"
"Yes," he nodded setting several notes on the counter. "And let him know that I will pay extra should he bring me the reply before I retire for the night."
"Of course Monsieur, of course," Francois nodded picking up the notes and the letter. "Henri, I have a job for you!"
"Yes father?" a youth of about 16 with brown hair said coming up to the counter.
"The gentleman that came in with the Guardian needs this delivered to this address in Paris," Francois instructed.
"Yes Father," the youth nodded.
"Deliver it into the hands of Madame Giry only and tell her that you will wait for her reply."
"Madame Giry only and wait for a reply," Henri repeated taking the letter from his father.
"The gentleman also said he would pay extra if you bring the reply back before he retires this evening," the mustachioed inn keeper added.
"Right," the boy replied exiting a door leading to the inn's stables.
"Did you get your letter sent off?" S'ray asked as the phantom entered the room.
"Yes and as long as the address hasn't changed I should have a reply tonight," Erik replied removing his cloak and hanging it up. "The boy can be trusted yes?"
"Yes, and he doesn't get distracted while on a job either," she replied pouring water in a basin.
"Good," he nodded starting to pace the room.
"Relax, Henri will get the message to her," she said wiping her face. "Enjoy a night without the little people."
"That I will," he said stopping and removing his coat. Then he adjusted his mask and smoothed back his coal black hair.
"And now that winter is over, you can look forward to this every 2-3 weeks. Even if my squad doesn't show up," she said.
"You really trust the three of them alone overnight?" he asked.
"Yes, besides they'll be busy with the animals and there's always the threat you left them with," she smiled.
"True," he nodded with a smirk.
"Now let's go have some fun," she said opening the door.
"I've been a wild rover for many a year," an Alve with an eye patch was singing as they entered the common room. He turned to see who had entered and stopping his song, shouted, "S'ray!"
At the mention of their Captain's name, the other Alve at the table also stood and saluted her. "Gentlemen," she smiled returning the salute. "This is my friend and guest, Erik."
The assembled Alve nodded in greeting.
"Erik, I'd like you to meet Tavlyn, Daklu, Senren, Morvay, Reshkar, and Greyvon," S'ray said introducing the gathered Alve soldiers to him.
They shook hands all around. "Sit please," Tavlyn said gesturing to a pair of empty chairs.
"Yes," Reshkar nodded, "you've both got some catching up to do."
"Sweetheart," Daklu called to a nearby barmaid, "bring two more ales for our newly arrived friends."
The maid nodded and immediately went to retrieve the ordered drinks. S'ray and Erik took the indicated seats and were each brought a large mug of ale.
"Now you're sure that none of the little trouble makers followed you here?" Morvay asked.
"Positive," S'ray replied after taking a long drink of ale. "I gave them a list that had to be done by the time we return."
"Sounds like a disaster in the making if you ask me," Greyvon said crossing his arms over his chest.
"No, it'll be fine," S'ray insisted. "Besides, Erik threatened to eat them if they misbehaved at all."
Senren almost spit his ale out at her announcement.
"That's brilliant," Tavlyn grinned, "Too bad we can't use the same threat."
"Yeah, they'd never believe us," Morvay agreed.
"Well," Erik said setting down his mug, "it's not the first time I've threatened to do that."
"And I'd imagine that being part goblin helps to back up the threat," Daklu replied.
Erik looked up suddenly, his eyes flaring at the mention of his mixed heritage.
"Hey, we're Faye like you; we recognize each other naturally as well as mixed bloods. You'll learn to do the same in time," Tavlyn, the one-eyed Alve explained.
"As you've already realized, our world is much different from the human one," Senren continued.
"And much more interesting," Erik said taking another drink.
"That depends on your point of view," Greyvon replied. "We were all born and raised Faye so our own world can be quite mundane, so we're fascinated by the human world instead."
Tavlyn drained his mug and motioned to a pretty barmaid to bring more for the whole table. His good eye never left her hips as she sashayed to the bar to fetch more ale.
"Tavlyn," S'ray all but shouted at the distracted man.
"What?" he said suddenly turning back to the group.
"Weren't you singing when we walked in," S'ray said trying not to laugh at her second who was always distracted by pretty serving girls.
"Yes," he said standing as the drinks were brought over. "I've been a wild rover for many a year. I've spent all me money on whiskey and beer."
The entire table erupted in laughter as Erik and S'ray recounted the incident of the world's only known flying brownie. "I'm really starting to like you," Daklu told Erik between laughs.
"No doubt," Reshkar said. "Only one thing would have improved that though."
"What?" Erik asked finishing off his fourth mug of ale.
"If it had been Brandji in the air instead. The last time I was there the little bastard tied my feet together and I damn near fell down the stairs into the cellar," Reshkar replied and slammed back the last of his mug.
"More ale!" Morvay said pulling a barmaid over and whispering something to her that was apparently very lewd by the blush that covered her cheeks.
"Come on Erik," S'ray laughed pulling on his arm, "Let's dance."
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea right now," Erik said trying to clear his head.
"You should really slow down," she said sitting down again.
"You're not going to keep up with us anyway," Morvay grinned draining another mug of ale and then nearly falling backward from his char. He was caught at the last moment by a very tall, cloaked figure.
"Cyd!" S'ray greeted the cloaked figure.
"Guardian S'ray Murrin Leshtar Night-Star Dragon-Friend, Guardian of the Blue Water Forest, Champion of the Battle of Dark Wood, Slayer of General Miska of the Drow, Captain of the Blue Star Wing and Rider of Cydqx'xy-Ti Afz'hi Vxep'lyt," he said with a slight reptilian hiss as he righted the drunken Alve. "Drunk already?"
"Cyd, when did you get here?" Morvay asked finally noticing the man behind him.
"Just now. Have you even finished off a keg yet?" he asked pulling the hood from his head. He had hair the color of steel that ended at his shoulders. His eyes were also steel grey with the distinctive slit pupils of a reptile. A long fingered hand went to the ties of his cloak and pulled them free. He removed the garment from his lean six foot, six inch frame and handed it to a nearby barmaid.
"Erik, this is Cydqx'xy-Ti Afz'hi Vxep'lyt, the greatest battle dragon I've ever met," S'ray said standing.
Cyd inclined his head in greeting and gracefully sat at an open chair at the table. "Call me Cyd," he said in his reptilian accented voice. "S'ray is the exception as most non-dragons cannot pronounce my name."
Another smiling barmaid came over and set four mugs of ale in front of the battle dragon.
Erik looked questioningly at S'ray. "A battle dragon?" he asked.
"In mortal form for tonight," Cyd answered for her after draining his second mug of ale. "In my true form I won't fit inside this establishment."
"We fight together in the air," S'ray explained further.
"Like a flying heavy cavalry," Tavlyn continued. "Only the horses are much bigger, fly, wear armor, and fight as well.
Cyd quirked an eyebrow at being compared to a mere horse.
"No offense intended, but Erik is new to our world," Tavlyn quickly added.
"I can see that, I'm not blind," Cyd said setting down his third mug.
"Who's up for some music?" Tavlyn asked quickly changing the subject and picking up his guitar.
"Feel like dancing now or do I have to ask someone else?" S'ray asked Erik.
Realizing that he wasn't going to win any argument with her over this, he relented. Erik stood and straightened his waistcoat. "Shall we?" he smiled extending his hand to her.
S'ray stood and they went to a space that had been cleared of tables. Tavlyn, Senren, and Morvay began playing the Banshee's Jig. "Try to keep up," S'ray smiled as they started dancing.
"So that's a dragon," Erik said as they danced.
"Yes," she replied.
"He doesn't look like a dragon," he observed.
"They're shape shifters and the most powerful creatures you'll ever meet. And in spite of his current form, Cyd is more than capable of bringing the inn down around us by himself should he become angry."
"What do you mean?"
"He's our size right now, but he still has the strength of his natural form. He also has the appetite as well so you'll only see him drink tonight. I'm guessing he was late because he was gorging himself on meat before he got here. It takes a lot more beef than this village is willing to butcher to feed even a dragon of his size."
"I thought I was aloof, do they always act like that?"
"No, Cyd was being exceedingly polite to you. For dragons if you're not one of them, you're nothing and that goes for Alve as well as anyone else they meet," S'ray explained.
"How long have you known him?" Erik asked.
"Centuries," she replied with a smile. "The dragon picks the rider actually, I was the first woman chosen in over 500 years."
"So no other women rode?"
"No, I should rephrase that. I was the first woman chosen by a male dragon," she said. "I was actually sitting in the gallery watching a nephew of mine waiting to be chosen. Suddenly there was this great steel dragon in front of me, staring into my eyes and saying that I would be his rider."
"I'm guessing a choice like that doesn't get taken back?"
"No, that would be the ultimate insult to dragon kind. I started training with him the next day and we've been partners ever since."
"So how far does that kind of relationship extend?"
"As far as the dragon wants it to."
Erik's eyes widened slightly at the implication.
"And no, Cyd and I are not that close," she answered his unspoken question. "That's why they prefer to not mix the sexes; half-dragons are rare and exceedingly powerful."
"You still haven't answered my question, I'm assuming that it's more than just a working relationship," he said swinging her around.
"I guess you could say almost fatherly or brotherly, actually brotherly is a better description," she replied. "When my husband was dying, Cyd took me to him. Because of Cyd, Tereste was able to breathe his last breath into me."
"I am sorry for your grief," Erik whispered detecting a slight hitch in her voice that such an obviously painful memory brought forth.
"Thank you, but I've grieved for him long enough," she smiled.
"And how long is long enough?"
"Over two centuries, I stopped wearing black a long time ago."
"For once I agree with Luniana, black doesn't suit you."
"She doesn't think I dress feminine enough. What do you think?"
"I think you should dress how you like."
"That's not what I asked. Do you think I dress feminine enough?"
Erik looked down at her as they continued dancing; the pace of the music had slowed. "Yes, I think you're dressed feminine enough and very pretty," he answered leaning down.
She gazed up at him, looking into his eyes.
"Who's for more ale?" Daklu shouted. "Hey, you two are falling behind!"
"Monsieur," Francois said coming into the common room. "Here is your reply, Henri just brought it in."
"Thank you," Erik nodded and pulled a note from his pocket. "This is for his promptness."
"Thank you sir," Francois nodded handing the letter over.
Erik took the letter and put it in the inside pocket of his waist coat.
"Good news?" S'ray asked coming back from her dance with Reshkar.
"She answered so that means she's still talking to me," he answered. "I'll read it later."
Cyd returned from the bar with his mug full again. Morvay was passed out on the table next to him. Cyd rolled his eyes as the Alve began snoring. "Morvay never could hold his ale," he sighed sitting down again.
"Well, look at Reshkar," Tavlyn said indicating the other Alve that was passed out on a bench near the fireplace. "He's been passed out for over an hour."
"True," the battle dragon nodded.
"They're young," Daklu said, "they haven't built up a tolerance yet."
"I'm surprised that you're still with us Erik," Tavlyn said.
"Mus' be m' goblin blood showin'," he slurred, leaning his head on one hand on the table.
S'ray rolled her eyes. "Don't let him fool you, he's been practicing on my whiskey," she said with a yawn.
"Hey, what happened to Senren and Greyvon?" Daklu asked looking around.
"They left a couple hours ago with two serving wenches," Cyd replied. "You were too busy following that busty barmaid at the time to notice."
"Ah her, I wonder where she's gone off to. I think I'll go find her, if you will all excuse me," Daklu said rising from the table. "She's polishing glasses; I think I'll find out if she's good at polishing anything else."
Erik tried not to spit his mouthful of ale out at the Alve's crude suggestion.
"Speaking of which, I see a lovely lass myself," Tavlyn grinned. "Perhaps she'll take pity on a poor soldier and provide him with a place to sleep tonight."
Cyd shook his head as the one-eyed Alve went off in pursuit of said woman. "Some things never change," he observed. "He's been using that line for the last 500 years."
"And it works every time too," S'ray laughed.
"And it worked again tonight," Cyd said nodding toward the door where Tavlyn was exiting with his arm wrapped around a lass's shoulders.
"Oh it's late," S'ray said with a yawn. "Shall we go to bed Erik?"
"What?" he asked suddenly sitting up and almost tipping over in his chair.
"I think the ale has caught up with you and you should go to bed," she rephrased.
"No, I'm fine," he scoffed trying not to get sick as he shook his head to clear it.
"Then why are your eyes closed?"
"Because the room…ish spinnin'."
"No, your head is spinning. Come on," S'ray said standing and taking his arm, "I'll walk you up there."
"Alright, but I'm jus' goin' t' rest for a while an' read m' letter," he said patting his chest. "Wait, where's m' waist coat?"
"I've got it," she said pulling him to his feet. "Let's go."
"Where are we going?"
"Upstairs."
"Together?"
"Yes."
"You sure thas a good idea? I'm a bit drunk, may not be a gentleman," he slurred, swaying on his feet a bit.
S'ray rolled her eyes and looked from Reshkar and Morvay to Cyd with an unspoken question.
"I'll take care of them," Cyd said taking a drink of ale. "Do you need any help with him?"
"Him who?" Erik asked wrapping an arm around S'ray's shoulders to steady himself.
"We'll be fine," she said putting her arm around his waist and kicking the chairs out of the way. "Come on Erik."
They walked a semi-straight line to the stairs; Erik was heavier than he looked and in his current stated tended to stagger to the right a bit and pull her along with himself. He had put on some muscle taking care of the animals himself the last few weeks. They walked up the stairs and she let him lean against the wall as she pulled out the key to their room and unlocked it.
Just in time, she thought, catching him as he started to slide down the wall. "Just a few more steps," she said pulling him upright. "Don't make me drag you in there."
"Never m'lady," he smirked drunkenly. "You 'ave but t' ask the Opera Ghost an' he will do."
"Right, how about the Opera Ghost walks to the bed over there," she suggested.
"There's only one bed," he said looking to the bed in the far corner and then back to her.
"That's right," she nodded.
"Was you plannin' on takin' 'vantage of me bein' drunk?" he asked.
"Never, besides you are too much of a gentleman to let that happen," she replied.
"Tha's right, never take 'vantage of a lady like that," he slurred shaking his head as she lead him to the large bed. "Whoa, that didn' feel good."
"Then sit down," she said as they reached the bed. They turned and Erik suddenly fell back onto the bed, dragging S'ray with him.
"Thas better," he sighed closing his eyes and pulling her tightly against his left side.
S'ray slid out from under his arm and stood up. Sighing, she knelt in front of him and pulled his boots off. Setting them next to the bed, she stood and pulled his legs up on the bed. Then she sat down and pulled his socks off and put them on top of his boots. A mischievous twinkle came into her eyes and she experimentally ran a finger across the arch of his bare foot.
He pulled his foot back as a small giggle escaped his lips.
She smiled and wondered to herself where else he might be ticklish. Then she sat on the bed next to him and began unbuttoning his shirt. Once that was done, she took a moment to admire the flat planes of his chest. She'd never really had the opportunity to do that, Erik usually kept himself covered except for occasionally leaving the neck of his shirt open. The wound from the rope was practically gone; there were only a couple small white scars that even hinted at an injury now. Her hands moved back to his shirt and began tugging it from his trousers.
"What're y' doin'?" he asked sleepily through half lidded eyes.
"Taking your shirt off," she answered, "or at least trying to."
His hand went up to lightly caress her arm. "Sure thas a good idea?" he asked.
"I don't think you really want to sleep in it, do you?"
"Mmm, pretty," he murmured.
"What was that Erik?" she asked
"I said you're pretty," he answered sitting up on his elbows.
"Thank you, now sit up all the way for me please," she instructed.
Erik pushed himself up the rest of the way and let her push his shirt off his shoulders and remove it. He watched her with heavy lidded eyes for several moments. Then suddenly he reached out and pulled her into his lap.
"Erik! What are you doing?" she demanded surprised.
"So pretty," he whispered caressing her cheek.
"Erik let me go, you're drunk," she said calmly.
He shook his head and slowly opened his eyes again. "So pretty," he whispered again.
"Whatever you're thinking right now, forget about it," she said.
He slowly shook his head no and continued to gaze down at her.
"You're drunk, you'll only regret it in the morning," she said stopping his hand and sitting up.
He looked at her quizzically as she disentangled herself from his arms. "But," he protested.
"I know, how about you just lie down for a bit. I'm going to check on Reshkar and Morvay. We can talk about this when I come back," she said gently pushing him back down on the bed.
Erik watched her as he lay back down on the pillow. He closed his eyes as she covered him with a blanket and then walked to the door.
S'ray breathed a sigh of relief as she closed the door.
"Everything alright?" Cyd asked as he carried Reshkar under one arm and Morvay under the other.
"Yeah," she answered, "have you got their keys?"
"In my pocket," Cyd replied.
Erik groaned and slowly opened his eyes, it was day time again. He moved his head to the side and winced. "Too much ale," he groaned closing his eyes again. He moved his head once more, only much slower this time, and opened his eyes. The other side of the bed was slept in, but empty except for a note.
He picked it up and read in S'ray's unusual script, 'Erik, I'm in the common room downstairs having breakfast. Come and join me when you're ready. If you're wondering, nothing happened last night and you even slept through me getting up and dressing. You did act a bit strange before you finally passed out, but that was it. S'ray. PS – You snore when you're drunk and your mask is on the bedside table.'
Erik covered his face with one hand, how embarrassing. He hoped he hadn't kept her awake all night. Then he realized that he wasn't wearing his mask and snatched it from the table. He swung his legs from the bed and had to grip the bedpost to stop the world from spinning. The phantom took a deep breath and opened his eyes, then he pulled himself to his feet and went over to the table that held a pitcher of water and wash basin. He poured cold water into the basin and washed his face after removing his mask. Looking into the mirror as he dried his face he saw he didn't look as bad as he felt, he'd had much worse hangovers than this one. Like the one after he'd seen Christine and that damned boy together on the roof of the opera. He'd been drunk for a week then and the hangover had been pure hell.
As he stood there, willing his hangover to go away, the quiet morning air was pierced by a horrid noise. Erik visibly winced and put his mask back on. Clenching his teeth, he slowly walked over to the window to see where the sound was coming from. Still in just his trousers, he threw open the window and glared down at the source of his discomfort.
There in the courtyard below were Tavlyn, Daklu, S'ray and Cyd. Tavlyn was playing, of all things, a bagpipe and Daklu was playing a drum to keep time. "You've got one awake," Cyd grinned pointing up at Erik. "Keep playing."
Suddenly another window was thrown open. "Tavlyn, you ass!" Morvay yelled down.
"This is what you lightweights get!" Daklu shouted in return. "Tavlyn and I were wenching till the wee hours of the morning and we're awake!"
Tavlyn grinned as he kept playing the pipes, one more to rouse from a drunken slumber. He finished up Piper's Dance and started playing Dark Isle.
A third window was thrown open and shortly after that a slop bucket came flying out of it. "You're all the misbegotten bastards of motherless goats!" Senren cursed from his window.
"And you couldn't hit a bull in the ass with a banjo," S'ray yelled in return.
The phantom closed the door to the study and took the envelope that contained Madame Giry's letter from the pocket of his waist coat. He sat down at the desk and broke the wax seal. Pulling out several sheets of paper he began to read.
'My Friend, how good it is to hear that you are well. Meg and I were very worried that you had met your end. We are doing well and are working again at the Opera Populaire. The fire was not as bad as the papers said it was, mostly damage to the seats, the stage and of course the chandelier. It has all been repaired now thanks to the opera's new patrons and we are all employed again. Well most of us, some have left to never return.
'I'm sure it will be a surprise to hear that Carlotta and Piangi are married. They are not returning to the opera, I'm sure the possibility of never hearing Carlotta sing again will make even you smile. Andre and Firmin even threw them a party in the lobby, though I'm sure they were expecting you to interrupt it at any given moment.
'I am also very proud to tell you that my own daughter is now the Prima Ballerina here. I was so happy when she decided to try out for the role when Sorelli left after the fire. She danced so perfectly, I only wish her father could have been here to see his little girl.
'We also have new patrons; the Vicomte withdrew his patronage after the fire as you can probably guess. The new patrons are Greek; one is a doctor I believe. They have fully restored the opera to its former glory; you cannot even tell that there was a fire of any kind. They are a bit mysterious though, we've only ever seen them here after dark.
'I also must warn you, it is still very dangerous for you in Paris. I know the papers all say that the police have stopped looking for you and believe you dead, but it isn't true. The Vicomte still insists that they continue looking for you and will not let the matter drop.
'No one has been to your home in the cellars since Don Juan. Meg and I have kept careful watch and we check every so often. We have even retrieved some of your prized belongings to save them from the damp. I have them here at my home where they are safe from those who would destroy them.
'There is one thing that I must tell you that makes my heart heavy because I know it will hurt you terribly. Christine and Raoul were married two weeks ago in a small, private ceremony. I know this may be hard for you to understand, but she is happy with him. I am sorry that this news will break your heart again because I know how much you love her.'
He put the letter down, unable to bear reading more. There was a sharp tightness in his chest as tears began to stream from his eyes. His hands went to his face as his shoulders shook with great, wracking sobs. Antoinette was right; the news of Christine's wedding had broken his heart all over again. In spite of all that had happened and what he had put her through, he had still held onto the slight hope that she might realize her folly with the boy and come back to him. Now he knew that would never happen, she was a wife and Vicomtess now.
Wrapped in his grief and heartache, he never heard S'ray tentatively open the door. He never heard her walk over to the desk, but he did feel her hand touch his shoulder. "She's gone," he cried in response to her unasked question. "She married the boy . . . two weeks ago."
"I'm so sorry Erik," S'ray said softly and gripped his shoulder reassuringly.
"She'll never come back to me now," he cried laying his head on his arms on the desk.
S'ray didn't say anything; she knew no words would be able to soothe his broken heart at this moment. Instead she knelt beside the grieving man and put her arm around his shoulders. Erik turned eyes rimmed red with grief toward her and pulled her into his arms. He clasped her tightly as he cried his grief over Christine onto her willing shoulder, somehow afraid that if he let her go, she would leave him as well.
Time passed, punctuated only by the man's heartbroken sobs. S'ray let him hold her and cry as long as he needed, knowing it was best that he let his emotions out or be driven mad by them. "You must think me so weak," he said haltingly after a while.
"No," she whispered stroking his midnight hair. "Not at all, I know this kind of grief."
He nodded, nuzzling his unmasked cheek into her tear-dampened shoulder, remembering that she had also lost someone she loved very deeply. He never saw the tears that leaked out of her own eyes as she leaned her cheek against him.
Author's End Note: Party in the next chapter! Coming up, the Beltane Rites.
Coming up in Chapter 13 – Past the Point of No Return