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A New Beginning	By : Lum Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 5783 -:- 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
- 19
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Disclaimer: Please see the prologue

A New Beginning

Chapter 19

Savior

Not Censored

Madison giggled and placed a hand to her cheek, the warmth from the fire and the headiness of the wine made her body flush with heat. She felt like a wanton woman as she sat by the large fire, the gypsies surrounding it sitting languidly and sharing stories.

Alandro’s mother Mirella told her about his youth and the mischievous things that he had done. Madison noticed that the subject of the story appeared to be outraged that his mother was telling her them, but Madison could see that he was secretly pleased.

After she had finished telling Madison about the time that Alandro had tried to dislodge some fruit from a tree and had accidentally knocked down a bee hive, Mirella announced that it was time for her to retire as they would begin travelling in the morning.

Madison watched the elder members and the small children of the group head to their homes, the large covered wagons that were stationed in a large circle around the fire. She smiled as she watched one elderly couple walk to their brightly painted wagon, the husband helping his rheumatoid wife up the small stairs.

The clink of the wine bottle hitting her cup brought her gaze back to Alandro, and the clay mug that he was refilling. “Oh no,” she protested “I think that I have really had too much wine. Besides I have stayed out much later than I should and need to head back home.”

Alandro smiled charmingly, his large brown eyes glowing in the dancing firelight, “just one more glass, it is our best wine for our loveliest guest.”

She protested, saying that it was getting too late and Ummi would worry about her, but Alandro merely filled her mug to the brim and began to distract her with stories about what it was like to grow up among the Romani, as she learned was their proper name.

Madison listened intensely as he spun colorful tales of less embarrassing parts of his youth, not noticing how quickly her cup emptied and he refilled it.

Ummi wrung her hands fiercely as she watched the grandfather clock. Three hours had passed since dinner and Ummi had told Mr. Swift that Madison was feeling under the weather and had taken her meal in her room. Now she chastised herself for lying as her mind played out the worst possible scenarios to explain the young woman’s absence. She just knew that poor Miss Madison was lying in a field or ditch somewhere, hurt or dying.

After five more minutes passed and there was still no sign of the woman Ummi resolved to do something.

She walked quickly to the study where she knew Mr. Swift and that architect were sitting and talking. She knocked on the door and entered, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as a lump lodged in her throat.

Despite her unease she told the two men about what had happened earlier that day, how Miss Madison had been upset and begged to see the gypsies before they left forever, how she had let her go against her better judgment, and how she was two hours late.

Mr. Swift was furious at the betrayal, his anger deflating as he thought of his young, naïve daughter out after dark with a band of gypsies. “We must find her, I must go look for her,” he said, but was stopped by Erik.

“I think it would be best if you stayed here, in case she comes back. I will go look for her.”

Johnathan was about to protest when the warning rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. His face paled and his palms began to sweat as thoughts raced through his mind in a confusing flutter. He was an old man, one not up to racing around the countryside especially at night and with a storm fast approaching.

He nodded, acquiescing to the architect who seemed to have a strange bond with his daughter.

Erik rose from the chair and was led from the room by Ummi to gather the necessary supplies.

Johnathan sank into his chair, a knot of dread clenching his stomach.

Erik spurred his black Arabian on despite the bone chilling cold that seemed to cut through his thick wool cape and into him with every blast of wind. It was going to rain soon, the smell of the moisture thick in the air as animals sought shelter and the trees bowed from the force of the wind.

He raised his gas lantern higher before him as he carefully led his horse along the terrain, the slow pace gating on his nerves. It would do no one any good for Amin to falter in a hole and break his leg, so Erik resisted the urge to push the horse any faster than a jarring canter.

It was a lucky thing that the moon hung full in the sky, a luminescent orb that helped Erik avoid the majority of tree roots and ruts in the terrain.

Even though Johnathan had told him where those vile gypsies camped, and his scouting of the surrounding land had made him more familiar with the area, he progressed at a slow pace.

His grip tightened on the reins as he neared the camp, he could see the wagons and the haze of a large fire in the distance.

Madison blinked her eyes slowly, they seemed to be getting heavier every passing moment, and wondered how Alandro’s hand had ended up on her knee. Her brow furrowed as she brushed his hand from her body, “I am a lady, sir, and you will not lay your hands on me without permission. Besides, it is late and I must be going now,” she slurred and stumbled as she attempted to rise from where she had been sitting.

Her mind felt fuzzy and it seemed to take every bit of concentration that she had in order to not fall over. When the young Romani attempted to pull her back down to sit beside him, ignoring her protestations, she began to pull her hand from his grasp.

She looked around the campfire, now noticing that the majority of the people had retired to their wagons at some point in the night, and now only a few couples were left. Those remaining paid them no mind, instead too intent on caressing and kissing before they themselves would retire for the evening.

Her mind mulled over this information as realization slowly dawned on her, the pieces clicking as her eyes widened and she pulled her hand free from his grasp. Madison stumbled away from him, a small rock nearly upsetting her balance as she made her way to her horse, not aware of the young man who followed her.

“Madison, it is too late to leave now, you would get lost in the dark,” he said as he grasped her shoulder almost painfully. She turned to him as he continued “you will leave in the morning, after you have broken your fast.

Indeed, we will escort you to your house before we leave.”

He smiled reassuringly and tried to lead her back to the fire, but Madison was wary. The alcohol had made her terribly sleepy but a small part of her mind jumped in alarm. She could not put a finger on it, but somehow she knew that to spend the night here would be a very, very bad idea.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the sky lightening in brief flashes as a storm rolled their way.
“See,” he plied her, “it is going to storm. You don’t want to travel home in the pouring rain, do you? Come, you can sleep here and in the morning we will take you home.”

Lightning flashed, brightening the sky, and in a moment that ended so quickly she wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or reality, she saw a black figure in the distance between two of the wagons.

A few drops of rain fell, sprinkling Madison and Alandro, the fire and the couples that surrounded it, and forced the last of them inside their wagons. The rain seemed to bring Madison back to reality and she tugged herself free from his grasp and reached for her horses reins, trying to undo the knot that bound him to one of the wagons.

Alandro’s friendly façade fell as he grabbed her arm in a bruising grip and pulled her to him. She fought him, suddenly aware that they were alone and he was going to drag her into the last, empty wagon and that she was
probably too drunk to stop him.

“Let go of me!” she shrieked before he placed a hand over her mouth to silence her as he continued to drag her to the now ominous wagon.

“The lady said to let go,” a voice said from behind the struggling couple.
Alandro stiffened and turned, viewing the bark figure atop a large, black horse. The man dismounted gracefully, dropping the reins and stalking towards them.

“I suggest that you do as she says,” Erik threatened.

Alandro turned, pulling Madison before him in a crushing grip until one hand held her body against his and the other grasped her arm. “And why should I let her go? She came here of her own free will, it’s obvious that she’s merely playing hard to get.”

Erik took a step forward so that he was only a few steps away from them. His hand snaked into his vest, pulling out the Punjab lasso that he was now very glad he had stopped to retrieve. The sinister rope dangled from his experienced grip.

The young rom (gypsy) eyed the rope warily, debating if the woman in his grasp was worth the trouble. After a moment of hesitation he released her, glaring at the bizarrely masked man before him before making the sign to ward off the devil and spitting on the ground. “Take her, then,” he said angrily, and watched Madison rush to Erik.

Erik studied the young man for a sign that he would rush them, and when the boy retreated into a wagon he put the noose away and tried to comfort the woman in his arms. He rubbed her back as she cried into his shoulder, her words muffled against his cloak.

More lightning flashed and thunder rumbled as the drops of rain fell harder and more steadily and Erik lifted Madison up onto his mount. He gathered the reins of her horse and tied the lead to his own before mounting behind her.

With one last glance at the gypsy camp to make sure that they would not be followed or attacked Erik led them out of the circle and away from the garish wagons.

His thighs surrounded hers as one of his hands rested on her stomach to steady her. They were silent as she sobbed, finally exhausting herself and leaning back into his embrace, her back pressed against his front.

They were heading back to her father’s property, on the side closest to the small mountain and forest. The rain fell harder, pelting them and the horses. Madison tried to blink the rain from her eyes, the water falling heavily in her eyebrows and lashes.

As the wind blew she shivered, her shawl lost somewhere back at the camp, and Erik cursed.

The storm was quickening and it was fast becoming dangerous to travel the few miles it would take to reach the house. He opened his warm, wool cloak and draped it around both of them, the fabric forcing them to sit closer together.

Rain slipped under the edge of his mask, running through his hair and down the scarred side of his face. The thunder and lightning were coming faster as the storm moved closer towards them. They would not make it back to the house before the worst of the storm hit; they would have to seek shelter.

He cursed again and turned the horses into the forest, he knew where they could hide from the storm.

Johnathan was frantic. Erik had left an hour ago and there was still no sign of him, his daughter, or the storm abating. He roused the servants, instructing the men to travel to the neighboring farms and orchards to see if they had seen any signs of his daughter, who was surely lost and frightened in the storm.

Ummi wrung her hands in worry, “Oh Mister Swift, I never should have let her go! Oh this is all my fault!”
Johnathan wanted to agree, eager to blame someone, but knew that his daughter could talk the nicest person into committing the most wicked of deeds.

“She will be alright, she has to,” he said with a sob, “we will have the whole state looking for her if we have to.”

A flash of lightning pulled their attention to the window. The storm showed no signs of stopping.

Madison roused from her stupor as Erik lifted her from his horse. She looked around, confused, “where are we?”

He ignored her for a moment as he led the horses to the back of the cave, and the second chamber where a pile of straw lined one wall. It was a good thing that he had brought enough straw and hay up here a week ago, along with a few other small necessities. He made sure that the horses had everything they would need and tied them to a stalagmite so that they would not be able to run in fear from the sounds of the storm. Erik made his way to the first chamber of the cave, where Madison was standing and dripping water.

She stumbled a bit and leaned against the wall as she watched him light a gas lantern and gather a few dry logs from his pile of firewood. She blinked her eyes slowly as she slid to the floor and tried to make sense of the past few hours. How could she have been so stupid, so trusting?

A shiver wracked her body as her damp clothes clung to her cold skin.

He looked over at her and cursed again, stoking the fire into a steady blaze that would soon heat the naturally cool cave air. He gestured for her to join him and watched as she stumbled over to him.

She sat next to him in front of the fire and watched the flames dance. Tears trickled down her cheeks, mixing with the rain. He reached over to her and wiped the dampness from one cheek, pushing wet strands of hair from her face. “Do not cry, please do not cry,” he begged her softly.

Breathing deeply and trying to calm herself Madison started to shake with tremors, her hands betraying her emotions. He wrapped her cold, trembling hands in his and brought them to his mouth, kissing each knuckle.

“I feel so stupid,” she explained, “you tried to warn me but I would not listen.” Her brow furrowed and her eyes began to mist again as Erik pulled her into an embrace. After a few minutes of crying she wiped her tears away and settled into his arms, one hand wrapped around his neck as she rested her face in the crook of his shoulder.

Her warm breath tickled the fine hairs on his neck and he shifted uncomfortably, suddenly noticing that she was flush against his body and sitting practically in his lap.

She pulled away from him and looked into his eyes, the wine giving her courage. “Please do not be angry with me, Erik,” and before he could reply she leaned in and captured his mouth. As she wrapped her arms around his neck and he wrapped his around her waist, pulling her closer, they kissed passionately.

As her mouth opened and her tongue licked his lips his mouth in surprise; she seized the opportunity and explored him and soon his tongue joined hers as their lips locked together. Awkwardly shifting her legs she moved one to either side on him until she sat fully on his lap. She gasped as the proof of his arousal twitched against her thigh, pressing against her, and he took the opportunity to explore her mouth further with his tongue.

Her eyes glazed over in pleasure as she tangled one hand in his hair, feeling the thin wire that held his mask over his face and stroked the back of his neck as he shifted her in his lap and pressed his hardened manhood against the layers of wet cloth that covered the junction between her thighs.

She moaned into his mouth, spurring him on until he grasped her hips and ground her against his erection. Madison knew that this wicked pleasure was wrong, that she should stop, and that she was drunk, but it was very hard to care about behaving like a proper young lady when he did such wicked things to her body.

He detangled her from him and leaned her down against a blanket that she hadn’t noticed they were sitting on. “I will be right back,” he told her and watched her nod. She sighed in pained pleasure as she watched him walk to the back of the cave and past the bend in the walkway that led to the second, larger chamber. Madison turned her attention to the fire, watching the flames dance and listening to the crackle as the wood burned. She loved the way fires smelled.

Her eyes closed for a moment, and then another as she listened to its crackle.

Erik returned to the first chamber, arms loaded with thick blankets he had purchased from town. He watched her as she lay on the blanketed ground; her face turned to the fire and smiled. Why had the heavens blessed him with this beautiful angel who did not seem to care about his mask?

He dropped the blankets by her still form and watched the way her chest rose and fell with each breath. When she shifted her damp skirts rose and he could see the neat turn of a creamy pale stockinged ankle above her shiny, black boot. He had seen bare legs nearly every day while at the opera house, but suddenly the sight of her ankle was enough to keep him aroused.

He knew that the fire’s heat could only do so much and that they would need to shed their soaked clothing so that they would not catch cold. If something more came from insuring their good health, then so be it. Who was he to deny fate? And besides, the best cure for chilled skin was friction. He smiled, suddenly nervous, as he approached her.

What he had failed to notice was that her breathing had steadied into a slow pace as she lay before the fire. He called her name softly and when she did not reply he approached her figure. His brow furrowed in anger and dismay. She was asleep; the frustrating, wretched woman was asleep.

He rolled his eyes heavenward and glared. But she would still catch cold if she slept in soaking wet clothes so while being careful to stare at the grey stone wall before him and preserve her modesty he stripped her of her clothing until she was bare and shivering and wrapped her nubile body in a soft, warm blanket.

Wringing the moisture from her hair he laid her down in front of the fire and removed his own soaked clothes, carefully watching her to make sure that she did not wake. He laid their clothes out of reach of stray sparks but near enough to the fire so that they would not be wet come morning.

And when he was bundled up in his own soft blanket he sat beside her, stroking a finger down her delicate cheek, and watched her sleep until the day’s activities took their toll on his body and he laid down to slumber next to her, one hand draped possessively around her.

Author’s Note:
I had originally planned for this chapter to be steamier, but with the direction that the gypsy camp took I didn’t want to introduce more than making out. I am pleased with this chapter though, which is great because it’s been rattling around in my head for months now. And now you finally know where Erik goes when he sneaks off in the middle of the night! As always, thanks for reviews, comments, and suggestions.
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A New Beginning