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Rossignol	By : Savaial Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 5240 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Rossignol
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Ch 4
- 5-Ch 5
- 6-Ch 6
- 7-7
- 8-Ch 8
- 9-Ch 9
- 10-Ch 10
- 11-Ch 11
- 12-Ch 12
- 13-Ch 13
- 14-Ch 14
- 15-Ch 15
- 16-Ch 16
- 17-Ch 17
- 18-Ch 18
- 19-Ch 19
- 20-Ch 20
- 21-Ch 21
- 22-Ch 22
- 23-Ch 23
- 24-Ch 24
- 25-Ch 25
- 26-Ch 26
- 27-Ch 27
- 28-Ch 28
- 29-Ch 29
- 30-30- Epilogue
- 10
- 11
- 12
Around dinnertime Raoul and Christine came back. I rose from the couch with a smile and gave my brother a hug. He held me gently, as if he feared I would break, and stroked my hair in the manner he did when I was small. Christine favored me with a friendly smile too, before making a beeline for Erik, who stood impassively by his piano. I heard them talking about an opera that was going to be premiering soon. As Raoul babbled to me of finding divorce lawyers and keeping good cheer, I heard Erik give a short bark of laughter.

"Why even ask me Christine, you know you can do it!"

"It's been a long time Erik. I've continued your exercises of course, but I'm not sure."

"I'll humor you then,” Erik replied, noticing that both Raoul and I had started to pay attention to their conversation. "What do you want to try?"

"The male lead, I think it's my lower register that needs attention, and it might force me into some sort of flexibility." Christine waved her hand as she spoke, looking flustered. "How about E Lucevan Le Stelle?"

"Fine." Erik sat at the piano, turning his head in our direction. "Christine wants to satisfy herself on the readiness of her voice. When we are finished Vicomte, I expect you to come learn your scales." Raoul stiffened beside me and it was all I could do to suppress my smile. Perhaps he'd thought he'd been forgotten? The piano started and he actually winced. I squeezed his hand comfortingly.

The meanings of the Italian words were lost on me, but the great emotion Christine put forth made it inconsequential. She sang with flair and grace, sounding flawless to me. I noticed Raoul had gone misty-eyed in his appreciation and adoration. It made my heart glad he could appreciate his wife’s talent. He had been rather un-musical as a child.

"Very, very good Christine, you have not been idle these two years." Erik stood up and gave her a little bow. "You see? All your fears were groundless."

Christine was shining now, obviously Erik's praise meant a great deal to her. "Thank you, I feel confident now. I don't suppose you'd feel like singing it yourself though, just so I can hear it? I've missed your voice."

At Christine's question Raoul went stiff. He was jealous, I thought. He didn't have to be, Christine obviously adored him with all she had. I patted his hand, shaking my head with a frown. Raoul glanced at me, and then leaned in to whisper. “ I wonder if you've heard him sing yet." I shook my head no, my pulse elevating. "Then you should prepare yourself, that's all I can say," he murmured. We turned back to the two at the piano, I with anticipation and Raoul with apparent dread.

"If it means that much to you I'll sing it,” Erik relented, sitting back down and beginning to play.

From the first note I was enthralled. Christine's voice had made the song lovely, but Erik's voice set the words on fire. My eyelids drooped with the weight of his emotion, and my breathing slowed to labored, silent panting. Desire for him birthed itself in the deepest, most secret areas between my clenched legs. I felt myself go absolutely lax on the couch, surrendering to his succulent darkness.

E lucevan le stelle...
e olezzava la terra...
stridea l'uscio dell'orto...
e un passo sfiorava la rena.
Entrava ella, fragrante,
mi cadea fra le braccia.

Every word was a caress; every note a stroke upon my swollen nerve endings. I trembled, shook as a veritable earthquake of longing seized my heated body. I knew nothing of yearnings like this! Erik’s power drew me, held me, and carried me onto the path of the Promised Land. He showed me my own hunger and I wallowed in it.

Oh! dolci baci, o languide carezze,
mentr'io fremente
le belle forme disciogliea dai veli!
Svani per sempre il sogno mio d'amore...
L'ora è fuggita
e muoio disperato!...
E non ho amato mai tanto la vita!

If I could only get off the couch I would go to him, but my body no longer belonged to me. Even as Erik’s voice glided over my skin, his command to stay put a restraining hand over my soul. Not even shackles had this power. I dangled over a precipice of need, ready to topple at any second…

Raoul gave me a little shake just as the song ended and I knew he'd seen my shocking reaction to Erik. Yes, it was a shocking reaction, but I wasn't feeling guilty by any means. Raoul had hardly prepared me for what to expect, nor would he ever have been able to. I doubted there was a combination of words in any language capable of preparing one's soul to learn the true meaning of such lustful beauty.

I gave my brother a frown and closed my eyes to spare him my anger. He didn’t have the right to take any pleasure away from me just because I was his sister, but I didn’t feel like challenging him just yet.

"Oh Erik, that was beautiful!" Christine wiped away a tear and I opened my eyes to just stare at her. She wasn't reacted in quite the same way I had. I looked at my brother, noting he also had a completely different demeanor; irritation mixed with awe. Very well then, I was the only one who'd succumbed to complete abandon. In Raoul I could understand it, he was a man, but in Christine it was unthinkable. Perhaps she had a special immunity?

"I'm glad you liked it," Erik said casually, his eyes flicking past her to Raoul and I. "Are you ready Vicomte?" he asked lightly. Raoul gave a tiny, defeated sigh and got up. Christine squeezed his hand as they passed each other, giving him a smile of encouragement. I got up and bowed an exit to everyone. I simply could not stay and listen to Raoul screech after having heard Erik's seductive timbre. Christine followed me, so maybe she'd had the same idea or she was trying to put Raoul at ease by not being there for judgment.

"I'm so glad Erik thinks I'm ready to try out for the opera again, I thought maybe my voice had slipped," she said as she shut the door behind us. "Was that the first time for you? To hear him sing I mean." I nodded. Christine let out a breath, a knowing look passing over her lovely features. "Magnificent, isn't he?" Again I nodded, allowing myself to smile. "He has the voice of an angel," she continued, a dreamy look settling into her bright blue eyes. "When he first came to me I thought he was an angel, the Angel of Music. After hearing him I concluded there was no human being in the world who could match him."

I got a piece of paper from the writing desk and sat down beside her on the bed.

Erik is amazing in many ways, I wrote quickly. Do you know how old he is?

"Hmmmm." Christine closed her eyes. "I think he's in his late thirties, but I don't know when his birthday is."

How long has he lived down here?

"Uhhhhh.... maybe ten years? I don't know very much Celeste,” Christine said uneasily. I felt rather than saw her pulling away from our topic. "Erik is a private person, to an extreme level. Even when I lived here I didn't learn enough to feel like I knew him."

I'm not asking for anything really specific. I’m just interested.

Christine's eyes narrowed as she read. When she looked back up her expression was somewhat more relaxed.

"You just want to know what he's like in general?"

I smiled.

"Well.... he favors red and black for his color schemes, but I suppose you already figured that out." Christine looked toward the ceiling, her eyes clouding over. "He has no interest in politics at all. He doesn't eat sweets, at least I never saw him touch sugar. He abstains from alcohol for the most part, but he does like opium and hashish sometimes."

Her face darkened with that last piece of information. "Some of the music he writes when he's under the influence of those things... let's just say it's moody and not for everyone. Actually, moody is a good way to describe him Celeste, he's got a way about him...” She looked at me helplessly. "Please tell me you knew that." I nodded slowly.

Erik has been very kind to me though, and also very courteous. I haven’t had a single moment of stress.

That was a lie of course, but I saw no reason to endanger my stay here with the kind of news Christine would carry back to Raoul. The less they knew the better.

I love to listen to him compose; it takes my mind off of the things that have happened to me. The kind of music he plays doesn’t allow for anything but happy thoughts. I watched her carefully, noting she seemed to be relaxing more and more with every word. I hope Raoul doesn’t take me from here anytime soon; this is the easiest time I’ve ever had in my own head.

"He's tailoring your recovery," Christine murmured, smiling softly. "It's just like him to do that. He's really quite a thoughtful person."

Yes, I will be sad when I have to go. This is an oasis of sound and soothing dark.

"You like the dark?" Christine's tone changed, sounding oddly like... hope? "You don't find it confining down here, or frighteningly cut off from the world?"

I have prayed for such a place as this. I need this kind of dark, quiet solitude to get better.

"I think you must be good for Erik too," Christine said thoughtfully, "I've never seen him so open and relaxed."

You can imagine I don’t ask for much, perhaps that is it?

"No, I really don't think so Celeste, Erik is lonely. Loneliness is a poison you know, and it eats at you fast or slow depending upon how long you've had to deal with it."

I’ve been lonely too, you can’t imagine how much. Just having a kind person speak to me makes me feel like a queen. I really like you Christine, you have made my brother happy and you have been very nice to me.

Christine smiled, clasping my hand in a friendly way. "I like you too Celeste, you seem very nice yourself. I count you among my friends."

And I hugged her.
- 10
- 11
- 12
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Rossignol