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 LittleMargarita: I think having Brandji sic the Pixie on him was pretty good payback from Erik. Poor Tavlyn, he needs a vacation or a nice quiet war. I don't think he'd care right now just so he gets a break from Luniana. Why is Raoul being an idiot? Because he's Raoul and he's becoming as obsessed with getting rid of the Phantom as the Phantom was with Christine. Anyway, stay tuned for what happens next!

To phantommistress: I'm so glad you love the story, you've been with me from the beginning. Yeah, Erik and S'ray's wild side, always right there just bubbling beneath the surface. And hey, do you get the feeling that Tavlyn has finally had the table turned on him for a change? Will Erik live forever like S'ray? I'm not going to tell you now, but that will be answered in a later chapter. Will S'ray ever meet Christine? I'm not going to answer that either, you'll just have to keep reading. And I'll take your votes into account on the poll.

To foxgodess07: Is the new owner out to hurt Erik? I'm not going to say, you'll just have to keep reading. Will Madame Giry and Meg pay Erik a visit? I'm not going to say anything about that either except that they will meet up again, you'll just have to read to find out how and when.

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 ;-).

I really need your help, I'm going to do more artwork, but I can't decide who to draw next. Who do you want to see next? There's a poll up on my profile and you can vote for any 3 choices. The one with the most votes will be drawn next. Only 4 people have voted so far! I know you people are reading so don't forget to vote too! Don't be afraid, it's anonymous!

Thanks to all who have read and reviewed; the more you review, the more I write. Now,

Phantom of the Glen

Chapter 19

Good Morning Beautiful

S'ray sighed and snuggled closer to Erik, refusing to open her eyes and wake up. It was too early and it was so comfortable lying in his embrace. She felt his arm shift and then his fingers were combing through her tousled hair. He started to hum softly and she relaxed in his arms, falling back to sleep.

Erik looked down at the sleeping woman in his arms and smiled. As he ran his fingers through her hair, words to the music he was humming came to him. He was tempted to start singing, but he didn't want to wake her yet. Instead he contented himself with humming and writing the words in his head so he could surprise her another morning.

Tavlyn opened his eye and looked down; Luniana was curled up asleep on his chest. He closed his eye again, exhausted from the night before. Seven times had barely satisfied the Pixie and completely worn him out. He wanted to shift his position badly, but didn't want to wake her up for fear of also awakening her sexual appetite for him again.

This was going to have to stop or at the very least slow down. At the rate he was going she'd either kill him of exhaustion or he'd make a fatal mistake when training with Erik. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy his trysts with the Pixie, but an Alve of his age just didn't have the raw stamina for that anymore.

Phelon stood before the mirror in the Diva's dressing room. He could just detect the scent of dank air and knew there must be a passage behind it. Looking at the top, he could just see an anomaly in the space between the frame and the wall.

He ran his fingers along the top of the gilt frame and found a hidden switch. Phelon carefully tripped it and was rewarded with a click and the mirror popped open. Cautiously, he opened the hidden doorway and peered down the corridor.

It was damp and very dark. He spotted a torch in a bracket not far from the mirror. He could also see where the Opera Ghost must have stood just behind the 1-way glass to give Miss Daae her lessons. There was a scratching sound and his eyes darted to its source to find a pair of rats scurrying along the wall away from him.

He pulled the mirror shut behind himself and took the torch from the wall. Lighting it, he started down the corridor. If Madame Giry was telling the truth this passage would lead him to the infamous phantom's lair.

Christine woke up alone, for the fourth time in a row. She sighed, he'd never even come up to bed; the bedclothes on his side weren't even disturbed. Getting up, she put on a dressing gown and walked down to her husband's library.

She tried the door and found it was locked again. She knocked softly and called, "Raoul? Are you awake?"

"Christine? What are you doing up at this hour?" he asked in reply.

"What do you mean late hour? Darling, it's eight o'clock in the morning," she replied sternly.

"Really?" he asked surprised.

"Yes and this is the fourth night in a row that you haven't come to bed at all," Christine said putting her hands on her hips.

She heard Raoul's chair being pushed back from the desk and a drawer being opened. Then moments later the drawer was closed again and she heard a key in a lock. Finally his footsteps came to the door and he opened it.

"I am so sorry my darling," he apologized, looking every bit the repentant husband. "I promise you that I will go to bed with you tonight at a proper hour."

"Is anything wrong?" she asked.

"No, not at all," the Vicomte smiled. "In fact, everything is going to be just perfect."

Meg was running late for practice, she rounded a corner and ran head-long into the smaller of Monsieur Phelon's bodyguards. "Oh, I'm so sorry Monsieur. Pardon me," she squealed embarrassed at her clumsiness.

"Dat's alright petite," he smiled at her.

"You're not French, are you?" she asked, intrigued by his heavily accented French.

"Non, I'm American, Cajun t' b' exact," he replied casually leaning against the wall.

"Wow," she beamed, her eyes growing wide. "What's it like?"

"America?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," she nodded eagerly.

"Depends on where y' go," he smiled.

"How about where you're from?" Meg asked.

"Hot an' wet," he said silkily and moved closer to her. "What's y' name Petite?"

"Meg," she replied as she smoothed out her practice costume.

"De new Prima, oui?" he asked taking her hand and then kissing it. "Merrick Evangeline at y' service Mademoiselle."

"Are you feeling alright Tavlyn?" Erik asked pulling out his long sword.

"Fine, why do you ask?" the Alve replied.

The phantom shrugged. "You just look tired," he said. "Been sleeping alright?"

"Yeah," Tavlyn replied. When she let's me sleep, he thought to himself. "Ready?"

"Ready," Erik replied easily getting into his stance and waiting for Tavlyn to start.

The Alve pulled his sword and attacked. Erik brought his sword up and counter-attacked. Tavlyn went back several steps and parried the quick series of blows from the phantom. "Good, now keep up your attack," the Alve encouraged.

Erik didn't reply, he just kept up his attack.

Exhausted from his last few nights with the Pixie, Tavlyn had to keep giving ground to the larger man. He watched Erik carefully; he was wearing both coat and waistcoat today which was highly unusual for practice. The Alve had to keep wondering what the man was planning.

Then Tavlyn saw an opening and went back on the offensive. He backed the phantom up several paces and saw him reach into a pocket on his coat. Erik threw something on the ground that exploded in light and smoke.

Momentarily blinded, Tavlyn threw up his free arm in front of his face and backed up several paces. He blinked several times and looked around. There was no sign of Erik; it was as if he had vanished into thin air.

"Give," the phantom whispered in his ear and pressed the blade of the Alve's own dagger to his throat.

Tavlyn dropped his sword to the ground and shook his head. "What the hell was that?" he asked after the dagger was removed from his throat.

"I've been thinking and I've come to the conclusion that I'll never match you or any other Alve in sword play," he replied.

"So what was that?" Tavlyn asked again picking up his sword.

"Magic," Erik grinned.

"That wasn't any magic I've ever seen," the Alve said narrowing his eye.

"Really?" he replied raising his visible eyebrow. "So I decided that I may as well fight like I always have."

"Unfairly?" Tavlyn smiled.

"Exactly," the phantom replied. "Besides, you used your natural abilities against me every chance you had; now I'm just using my own unique skills against you."

"Finally the lesson is sinking in," the Alve smiled.

"Is that what you've been trying to teach me this last month and a half?" he asked.

"For the most part, yes. The most important thing you can know when fighting anything from the Seelie or Unseelie Court is that there is no such thing as a fair fight," he explained sheathing his sword. "Now that you've figured that out, take the rest of the day off."

"And what are you going to do?" Erik asked with a knowing smirk.

"I am going to hide somewhere and sleep," he replied sitting down to put his boots back on.

"And what makes you think we'll allow that?" a voice said from the corral fence.

"What do you want?" Tavlyn asked with a scowl.

"To torment you endlessly," Brandji replied.

"That would be my cue to exit, stage left," Erik said and walked back to the cottage.

"Now why do you want to torment me? What have I ever done to you?" Tavlyn asked the Brownies.

"You and your pack of idiots got us kicked out of the Francisca," Brandji replied.

"We did not, you got yourselves kicked out," Tavlyn sharply replied.

"You could have helped," Brule said.

"No, you all did fine wrecking the place by yourselves," the Alve smiled.

"That's not what he meant," Brandji said stamping his foot.

"Besides, if we'd helped then we would have been kicked out as well," he said standing up.

"Then why did you keep giving us ale?" Brandji asked.

"We didn't give you any ale," Tavlyn replied.

"Yes you did."

"No, we didn't."

"I'm sure you did."

"Wasn't us."

"Are you sure?" Brule asked.

"I'm positive, besides, why would we give you ale?"

"To be nice to us?" Brule asked hopefully.

"Well, someone was giving us ale," Brandji frowned. "Are you sure it wasn't you guys?"

"I'm sure it wasn't us and why would we spend money on you?" he asked slipping his shirt back on.

"Then where did it come from? Explain that to me Mr. Smarty Pants," Brandji said triumphantly.

"You stole it."

"That is an accusation that I refuse to confirm or deny in any way, shape or form," Brandji objected.

"That may be, but it's still one of the reasons you three were banned from the Inn," he replied. "Now good day, I'm off."

"Well, he's right about one thing," Brule said turning to Brandji.

"And what is that?" Brandji frowned.

"He's off!" the Brownie said and burst out laughing.

Phelon kept moving down through the secret passageways of the opera house. By his best estimate, he was now below the last sub-basement and deep into the phantom's territory. He had managed to avoid most of the traps by watching the rats; for the rest he had relied on instinct and his own reflexes.

Suddenly his path ended at an underground waterway. Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out a 10 Franc note and tossed it onto the water before him. The note floated lazily in the water where it landed. Then he picked up a pebble from the ground and tossed it in; the water was shallow, not more than two feet deep.

Lifting his torch up high, he stepped down into the cold, still water. He looked right and left; and detecting just the faintest hint of fresh air, went to the right. As he continued further, he realized he was intersecting part of the Paris catacombs and sewers. The outlets of some of the drains he noticed had been carved in the likenesses of comedy and tragedy.

How long have you been down here? the Greek silently asked, marveling at the skill of the carvings. As he progressed, he noted that the carvings seemed to mark a path or several paths, but to where? Overcome with curiosity, he kept walking through the watery passages.

Merrick frowned as he sat in the auditorium watching the ballet rehearse. Normally pretty dancing girls never ceased to make him smile, but not today. Dammit, he swore silently, just because I'm the youngest doesn't mean I should be left behind all the time. I've got skills; I can take care of myself.

He looked up at the stage and saw the pretty blonde who had run into him earlier. She was the new Prima and currently unattached from what he had heard from the other girls in the corps. Unfortunately, her mother was also the ballet mistress and watched over her pretty daughter like a hawk. He smiled as she looked his way and she smiled in return. Such a pretty thing, he thought, I wonder what secrets about this place she'll tell me once I've got her in my arms.

Then he shifted in his seat, pulled out his watch and looked at it. He frowned again; Phelon had been down below for over four hours now. ~Master?~ he asked in his mind.

~Yes, Merrick.~

~You've been gone over four hours now. Have you run into anything or anyone?~

~No, but there is much to see down here. However, I shall return by nightfall. I shall call for you if I am in need of your assistance.~

And with that, the contact was abruptly broken off. Merrick settled back into his seat to wait and watch the ballerinas practice. He watched the little blonde whirling on the stage. Such a pretty, juicy little thing, he mused from his seat.

S'ray was at her workbench finishing up a silver chain when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her from behind. "You're done early, aren't you?" she smiled as his lips found her neck.

"Mmm, it seems that learning the cardinal rule has earned me the rest of the day off," Erik replied against her skin.

"I knew you'd figure it out sooner or later," she smiled putting down her tools.

"So you knew and never told me?" he asked tightening his arms around her.

"Of course I knew," she replied.

"You could have given me a hint and sped the whole process up," the phantom said and kissed her neck again.

"True, but then I wouldn't have been able to watch you spar with Tavlyn," she sighed caressing his bare cheek. "And I fully enjoyed watching you."

"Mmm, that explains a few nights then," he smiled against her.

"I don't recall any protests from you," the Alve laughed.

"Never," he growled lifting his head to see what she had been working on.

"You weren't supposed to see this till later," she sighed ruffling his hair with her fingers. "But since you're here, come around."

Erik released her and sat in the chair next to her workbench. "So what's been occupying you lately?" he asked unbuttoning his waistcoat.

"Close your eyes and I'll show you," S'ray smiled with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

Erik raised an eyebrow at her, but closed his eyes all the same. He heard her do something with her tools on the bench and she came to stand in front of him. He arms went around his neck and he felt her fastening a chain. When the cool silver touched his neck, he pulled her to his chest and kissed her soundly.

She melted into his kiss; she should have known he'd do this at the first opportunity. Her lips parted and as the kiss deepened she found herself straddling one of Erik's legs. "Don't you want to see what it is?" she gasped as he left a trail of kisses down her throat.

"Mmm, can't I thank you first?" he asked in reply as his hands went down to her hips.

"Are you giving me a hint at what you'd like to do with your day off?" S'ray asked sliding her fingers into his hair and tipping his head back.

"Only if my Goddess is so inclined," he replied looking up at her.

"Well, I was thinking that perhaps a picnic would be fun and we can see where that takes us," she smiled kissing him. "Now take a look at what I made you."

Erik looked down and picked up the pendant that hung from the chain she'd placed around his neck. "A pentagram?" he frowned.

"Turn it the other way around," she sighed.

"Mmm, you're right. I don't know where my mind has been," he smirked. "So now it's a star. I'm assuming there's a meaning to this. What does this mean?"

"It's an Elven Star," she explained. "It's for protection when we're apart. It helps protect the wearer from evil."

"Thank you, but you didn't have to," Erik said looking back up at her.

"True, but I wanted to," she smiled. "Besides, I rather like the way it looks on you."

"Don't even think of turning me into some sort of Faye dandy," he growled pulling her close again.

"Perish the thought," she laughed. "And you don't wear anything near bright enough to be a Faye dandy anyway."

Raoul sealed the last letter and leaned back in his chair. Preparations were almost complete; he only had to wait for certain items to arrive and then have them set up and ready. It wouldn't be long now till he would make certain that the phantom would never be able to harm either Christine or himself again.

The Vicomte smiled, the Opera Ghost would soon be a real ghost if everything went according to his plan. And if the Elf and her horrid creatures showed up as well? Well, he had a few surprises planned that would keep them occupied and unable to help the phantom.

Phelon had been walking in the watery labyrinth for several hours. Finally he came to an iron portcullis which was distinctly out of place and yet also seemed to belong there. He peered into the darkness beyond it, trying to discern what was hidden there. He could hear water lapping against a rocky shore; it wasn't stagnant or from the sewers either, but fresh water from a spring most likely.

He squinted and could just make out the shape of a grand pipe organ; this must be the fabled phantom's lair. The Greek could also discern the even darker openings of other passageways or rooms. There was also the tell-tale reflection of broken glass scattered about.

Phelon stepped back and examined the portcullis. It was massive and old, by his best guess it dated back to the middle ages if not the dark ages perhaps. The real mystery was how it got down here in the first place. He was certain the phantom didn't build it, it was just too massive. However the real question then was who did build it and what were they trying to keep in or out for that matter.

This was as far as he could go with this mystery for the time being. Any further investigation would have to wait for another time. It was nearing nightfall, he would have to return to the surface soon and collect his bodyguard. Then they would have to change and return to the opera house for tonight's performance.

"Hello Master Tavlyn," the innkeeper greeted.

"Hello Francois, is there a room available for me?" Tavlyn asked the innkeeper as he walked up to the counter.

"Of course, your usual room is open. Will that be satisfactory?" he asked taking down a key.

"Yes, that will be fine," the Alve replied dropping several coins on the counter. "I'd also like some supper brought up as well, in about an hour if you please."

"And would you like any company with your meal?" Francois asked with a wink.

"No thank you, just the meal this time," he wearily replied. "And a hot bath as well please."

"Very good, I'll send Henri up right away with the water," the large innkeeper nodded.

"Thank you, and have him bring a couple of pints of ale up as well," Tavlyn said dropping a few more coins on the counter.

"So was this a good idea or not?" S'ray asked cutting the cap from a ripe strawberry.

"I'd say this was an excellent idea," Erik replied from where he lay in her lap.

She dangled the berry in front of him temptingly. "Want it?" she teased with a smile.

Erik growled at her. Then grabbing her wrist, he brought her hand down so he could take a bite from the juicy berry.

"All you had to do was say 'yes'," she sighed and popped the rest of the berry into her mouth.

"And what fun would that have been?" he asked after swallowing. "Besides, I don't trust that smile of yours sometimes."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied picking up another berry. "After all, I'm not devious like you."

The phantom snorted and then said, "I beg to differ, Madame. You are a woman and all women are naturally devious."

S'ray stifled a giggle and tempted him again with the berry.

"Now what are you laughing about?" he asked after taking a bite.

"Oh, nothing," she replied with a wide smile.

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Because you're naturally suspicious."

"I am not!" he protested. "No, you're right, I am. So what funny thought has suddenly crossed your mind?"

"Mmm, not funny, but devious," she grinned.

"I told you, you're naturally devious," Erik smiled. "So what was it?"

"Oh, I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"It would make you blush furiously."

"How do you know?"

"Because what I thought of goes completely and totally against your prudish Victorian sensibilities."

"Try me, besides you've been doing an excellent job of ridding me of those foolish airs," he challenged watching her wrap her lips around a strawberry before taking a bite. "And because now I'm getting a few devious ideas of my own right now."

"I'm sure you are," she laughed.

"We should compare ideas and see if great minds truly do think alike," he suggested with a smirk.

"Or just naughty ones," S'ray laughed. "Anyway, it involves you, me, strawberries and the absence of clothes."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I'm writing on you with the strawberries," she smiled at the thought.

"That's it?" he asked surprised.

"Not quite, you see I tend to make quite a few mistakes on such an uneven surface so I have to lick them off and keep starting over," she replied and licked her lips.

"That is similar to one of my own ideas," he said sitting up.

"And what's that?" she asked leaning back on the blanket.

"Using them to compose music on you," Erik smiled devilishly. "And as you know, I'm never satisfied with a first draft."

"You said you had several ideas, what about those?" S'ray asked.

"Mmm, I've always wondered what strawberries would taste like with honey," he said huskily as he moved to lie beside her on the blanket.

"Then today may be your day to find out," she smiled and pulled open the tie on her tunic.

"You mean right now?" he asked surprised. "And here?"

"Unless this is too open and public for you, I remember how upset you were when you found out we'd been watched at Beltane," she replied.

"As I said earlier, those foolish ideas are starting to fade away," he replied and blew softly across her ear.

"Are they now?" she asked closing her eyes.

"Yes, and if this is what my Pagan Goddess desires, then I shall be happy to oblige her," Erik smiled and kissed her berry reddened lips.

"Oh, it's not just me," she smiled when he pulled back from the kiss. "You, my dear phantom, are the one who suggested it."

"That I did," he whispered and began pulling her tunic open.

S'ray sighed and snuggled closer to Erik, refusing to open her eyes and wake up. It was too early and she was still tired from the previous night. Erik had been especially attentive to her the night before to make up for coming to bed so late the last week. She was planning on returning the favor, but a bit later this morning. She felt his arm shift and then his fingers were combing through her hair in his usual morning ritual. He started to hum softly and she relaxed against him; a soft smile lighting up her face.

Erik looked down at the sleeping woman in his arms and smiled. As he ran his fingers through her hair he began to sing, "Good morning, beautiful, how was your night? Mine was wonderful, with you by my side. And when I open my eyes and see your sweet face, it's a good morning beautiful day."

She smiled and opened her violet eyes. "Was that for me?" she murmured gazing up at him.

"Who else?" he asked and continued, "I didn't see the light. I didn't know day from night. I had no reason to care. But since you came along, I can face the dawn because I know you'll be there."

S'ray sighed and laid her head on his shoulder, now she was really going to return last night's attentions. The song was simple and beautiful and written for her. She smiled, this is why he'd been so late coming to bed this last week; he was composing, for her.

"Good morning, beautiful, how was your night? Mine was wonderful, with you by my side. And when I open my eyes and see your sweet face, it's a good morning beautiful day," he finished.

"So that is what's been keeping you up so late at night by yourself," she smiled draping an arm and leg across him now.

"Do you like it?" he asked looking down at her.

"I love it Erik. I've never had a song written for me before," she replied. "And what a wonderful way to wake up, having my love sing something he wrote for me."

"I'm glad you like it," he smiled holding her close. "You just inspired me the other morning when I woke with you next to me."

"Thank you so much Erik," she said sitting up. "That was the best gift I've ever received." S'ray leaned down and kissed him; softly at first, but then with more passion as he pulled her down to his chest.

"Don't think this is the only song I'll write for you," he said after releasing her mouth. "This was just the first of many I'll write for you."

"You don't have to, you've already won my heart," she sighed looking into his warm amber eyes.

"But I want to, I need to. Music is as much a part of me as much as breathing; I can't not write music, especially when I've got such beautiful inspiration before me all the time," Erik explained cupping her face in his hand. "Oh S'ray, you inspire such music in me, I'm only starting to let it come out."

"I . . . I don't know what to say, I've never been the inspiration for anything like this before," she said almost shyly.

"I love you so much my S'ray," the phantom smiled gently caressing her cheek. "You are everything to me."

"As I love you so my Erik," she softly said and kissed him again.

His lips parted and her tongue slipped in to tease his. He groaned into her mouth as her hand slid low to gently caress him. "No my sweet," he gasped, "you don't have to."

"But I want to," S'ray smiled still caressing him. "This is what lovers do Erik; they give pleasure to each other for no other reason than they want to."

"Oh S'ray," he groaned as she made him ache to be entwined with her and in her again. "You don't deserve a wretched monster like me."

"You are not some wretched monster, you are a man and one I love very much," she smiled and kissed his smooth cheek. "I love you Erik," she asserted again and kissed his marred cheek, covering every bit of his deformity with kisses. "I love you, I love you, I love you," she kept repeating to him, punctuating each word with a kiss to one of his imperfections.

Erik relaxed back into the welcoming bed and closed his eyes. So this was true love, he thought and smiled as she continued to punctuate her 'I love you's' with kisses to the scars on his chest. His hand came up to gently stroke her hair as she pleasured him.

Author's End Note: Mmm, I'm just going to let you all imagine for yourselves how the final scene in this chapter ends. And hey, don't forget to vote in my poll and help me decide which character(s) from the story I draw next. "Good Morning Beautiful" doesn't belong to me, but someone else and I can't remember the artist right now. Let me know if you know who sings the song.

Coming up in Chapter 20 – Notes and Letters and Surprises

More of Raoul's plotting against the Phantom. The Giry's receive a letter from Christine. It's status quo at the Opera Populaire. The plot shall thicken.