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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
- 16
- 17
- 18
I watched Christine flit about the room, ostensibly checking for extra blankets and pillows. She kept shooting me glances that suggested she had an ulterior motive for getting me alone. I thought I had a pretty good idea what that might be.

"Celeste, can I ask you something?" she said as she dragged a big box out from under the bed. I tensed.

"Of course." The last thing I wanted to do was prattle on and on about my newly found voice, but I didn’t have much choice. Christine was a social creature and she liked to talk I’d noticed.

"Are you romantically inclined toward Erik?"

The words spilled out like a carton of nails falling onto a wooden floor, sharp edges up.

I stared at her.

"Is it obvious?" I bent down to help her lift the box onto the sheets. I hoped beyond hope she had some special intuition and that I hadn’t been wearing my heart right on my sleeve for all to see.

"Not to him." Christine unfolded a woolen blanket, looking me over it. "He's quite convinced you deserve better than him. How are you going to change his mind?" She shook dust out of the wool with a sharp snap and a smile.

"I- I don't think I can change his mind!" This was Erik she was talking about, not some juvenile.

"I think you can." Christine busied herself with another blanket, still smiling. "I think you can do whatever you want girl."

I thought about it a moment. What made her believe I could get Erik? I was plain in comparison to her. Plain and insane. I almost laughed at the idea. "But Christine, Erik is not someone that can be influenced. He's got a will of iron." I knew this for fact.

Christine laughed.

"Oh, yes, he does. But he's a man Celeste, and I would venture to say that he's more man than most."

I blushed, thinking of his bare chest.

"Not that way Celeste!" Christine flushed too, glancing at the door with a nervous giggle. "I meant that he has high feelings."

"Oh." I was ashamed my mind had been in the gutter.

"I'd never seen him half-dressed though,” Christine snickered, casting me an evil look. "My, but he looks impressive by the firelight!"

I felt my mouth drop open.

"All that water rolling off his muscle," she continued, her grin broadening. "Don't tell me you didn't notice."

I smiled, moving a bit closer to her, enjoying the feminine conspiracy.

"I noticed," I said quietly, half afraid he could hear us. "He's got a stomach you could wash clothes on."

Our giggling threatened to escape the room. In a few moments, after we'd calmed down, Christine gave a mighty sigh.

"Ah, bless me. It does my heart good to talk to another woman. I like you Celeste, and I think you ought to consider chasing M. Phantom. He's been lonely a long time, and he needs a woman like you." She smoothed the blankets unnecessarily, still wearing a small smile.

"Like me? What makes me special enough to win Erik's heart?" I plucked at the corner of a blanket, feeling embarrassed and not a little bit afraid. "I'm no one, just a spoiled little rich girl who ended up living in hell for a few years. I'm not as smart as him, or as talented, I can't sing a lick and I don't play any instruments."

"What’s that got to do with anything?" Christine started changing pillowcases, smacking the goose down pillows against the bed frame to air them. "Erik is special; he doesn't need a woman to be like him. All he needs is for the woman to accept him as he is. I think you already have done just that."

"I guess I have, I happen to like him the way he is."

"You see? And after today I think you really have some idea of the way he is, don't you?" Christine gave me a soft, sympathetic look as she threw all the blankets and pillows into a pile on the bed and tied them shut. "I would have told you myself but it wouldn't have prepared you for the sheer bloodlessness he's capable of. Did he push the man off the roof?"

"No.” I shivered. "He talked him into jumping. I've never seen anything like that." I knew I would never forget what I’d seen. I might come to terms with it, but I’d never forget. Erik had just made too elegant and brutal of a display for my mind to ever let loose.

Christine shivered too. "Yes, his voice staggers the mind as well as the ears. He could make anyone do what he wanted, anyone at all. I've never seen the person who could resist him. Maybe a deaf person could, but even then...” Christine trailed off, her eyes glazing over with a memory. "He has this energy, this pull that makes you want to watch him. When you combine that with his voice and him actually trying to get his way, it's a deadly mix."

"Are you afraid of him? Why encourage me to go after a man that might be my end?" I sat down, putting my head in my hand. "I can't deny I want him Christine. I can't imagine living without him now." I really couldn’t. Erik filled me with a very unique sort of contentment. Up until a few hours ago he’d also filled me with perfect safety. “But now I’m very frightened. Killing is so easy for him.”

Christine sat beside me, draping an arm around my shoulder lightly. "But I'm not afraid of him, not like a man should be. He'll never hurt a woman. I tore the mask off his face, did you know? I tore it right off while he sat at his organ and played for me. He was angry enough to kill me; no one is allowed to see him without that mask." She hugged me close. I felt a tremor go through her slender frame. "And though he raged fit to put the devil to shame he didn't hurt me. He took my hands and dug my nails into his face until I had as much blood on me as he did. He maimed himself to keep from wringing my neck."

"I haven't been told why he covers his face," I said weakly. "He's ugly then?"

"His face looks like a skull Celeste, a living skull." Christine hugged me again. "He was born that way. A mask was the first thing put on him, even before a diaper or a blanket. You can imagine how sensitive he is to it, and how utterly I wronged him. He thinks I couldn't love him because of his face, but that wasn't the reason at all. I wasn't strong enough to live in his darkness." She drew back, giving me a tiny shake. "But you are Celeste. I'm not saying you should live in darkness, I’m saying that if you choose to you'll have a better chance than most."

She patted my arm and got up, her hand reaching out to stroke my hair. "And I'm saying that if you want him, you have to work. Erik thinks you can do better than him. Show him there isn't anyone better for you."

I nodded. "I understand what you're saying." And I did. I understood completely. I understood that I would have to decide what I wanted. I had to face myself and all my fears in order to know if I could take Erik for exactly what and who he was. He deserved no less and neither did I.

"Can you live with his face?" Christine looked me squarely in the eyes.

"I don't care about his face." I said lowly. And that was true, in the long run. What I cared about was his complete disregard for murder. And maybe that wasn’t quite fair of me, considering I had thought of killing many times. Did I think I was special somehow? Did I think it was right for me to be angry and bloodthirsty and not him? “His face isn’t what worries me,” I finished helplessly.

"Then hold onto that feeling." Christine hugged me again. “And while you’re at it Celeste, hold on to yourself.”
- 16
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- 18
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