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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
- 23
- 24
- 25
I felt the Vicomte standing behind my chair. The organ had covered the sound of him entering the room, but his presence could not slide by me. “Is something wrong Vicomte?” I asked softly, rising and turning as I spoke. He gazed at me with shuttered eyes before straightening his shoulders and taking a deep breath.

“Not as such,” he said quietly. “I was wondering if you would let me have Celeste’s wedding band.”

Of all the things he could be coming in here for, this was not one I had anticipated. I drew the hateful ring out of my pocket and handed it to him. I had intended to choke Lescot with it, but my plans could always be amended. Perhaps my punishment would have to take the symbolic route instead. “It is yours,” I said. “What will you do with it?”

“Keep it as a reminder not to take my sister for granted,” Raoul answered, putting the dull gold in his waistcoat. “And I wanted to speak to you of her while we are alone.”

“Very well.” I gestured for him to take a seat on the settee. I did not want to fight with him over his sister this morning, but I could hardly deny him the right to speak his mind. He was the only family Celeste had now; I would not stand in the way of that unless he upset her. He could upset me all he liked.

Silently, I seated myself across the Vicomte and waited for him to begin. He fidgeted for a moment as if gathering his words, twitching and sighing like a woman on a fainting couch. “I have been thinking,” he began at last. “It has taken me hours of circular idea to come to an epiphany of sorts.” Closing his eyes, De Chagney put his hand over the pocket he’d stowed the ring inside. “Celeste is in love with you. I know you have to see that.”

I blinked. So he wanted to bring this out in the open did he? “I only know that I am in love with her,” I answered softly. “The lady has yet to declare love and I am not one to assume anything where a woman’s love is concerned.”

Raoul frowned. “Don’t be foolish,” he snapped. “If I can see it surely you can,” he went on. “God only knows how you seduce women the way you do. I suppose it must be true that men are visual and women are audile.” Scowling, Raoul pressed himself further into the cushions. “But that isn’t the point with Celeste; I’m getting off topic in light of the fact that you absolutely madden me.”

“Don’t let me distract you, by any means,” I answered sarcastically.

“Oh do be quiet for once,” Raoul hissed. “You owe me your silence while I speak of my sister.”

Amused, I waved him ahead with my hand and said nothing else.

“What I am in here to say is that I will not oppose you courting Celeste,” Raoul continued frostily. “But she cannot stay here unless you marry her.”

I stared at him. “Have you gone insane?” I asked.

“No, I have not.” Raoul pressed a hand to his forehead. “I am being sensible. I am perhaps the only person in this dungeon that has any sense.” He got to his feet and began to pace back and forth, his hands running through his hair in nervous little jerks of energy. “You are entirely a madman, Celeste is a wild woman, and Christine has never had her wits about her on practical matters.” He stopped and fixed me with his gleaming, blue-eyed stare. “Yes,” he repeated firmly, “I AM the only person here with sense. And as such, I am the one who should be telling you all how to behave.”

For a blinding, crystal moment I found myself believing him. Then, I began to laugh. This was ridiculous! “Suppose what you say is true,” I said once my breath returned. “How should I behave then? You want me to marry your sister?”

“If you want to keep her, yes,” the Vicomte replied swiftly. “I see no reason why you would not offer your hand to her when you offered it to Christine all those years ago.”

His statement gave me pause. He had a point. I had wanted nothing less but her hand in marriage, had gone so far as to give her a gown to dress in and the ring needed to be my wife. But I never had intended to go before a priest. I didn’t even have a last name to give a woman, how would it be possible to truly marry? I had no birth certificate either. “You are assuming too much,” I said at last. “Celeste may not want to remarry on the ashes of her late husband.”

“He isn’t dead yet,” Raoul answered.

“Oh yes he is,” I replied grimly. “He just happens to still be walking.”

Raoul blanched. “I won’t mince words with you about that,” he said. “I know too well what you intend to do to the villain and I could care less if you devise the most horrible fate God has ever seen for him. And to be honest I don’t think Celeste gives a damn either; she has reverted to her wilder nature under your tutelage and there is no stopping her now.”

“I see.” I leaned back and folded my arms over my chest.

“I doubt you do,” Raoul corrected harshly. “The reason I hated you was not because you threatened to take Christine away from me, nor was it the fact that my brother met his untimely end attempting to navigate your despicable home. You reminded me of what I saw developing in my own home year after year. You reminded me of Celeste’s ungovernable nature.” Raoul stopped his nervous movements to grip the back of the sofa until his knuckles turned white. “I never had control of her. No one had control of her. Yet here she is with her heart completely turned to you.”

“That remains to be seen,” I replied. “She is her own woman.”

“She is your woman,” Raoul replied. “I just want her to be your ultimate responsibility in the legal sense. I don’t want her abandoned again.” He pulled himself erect as he glared at me. “This is the least I can do monsieur, ensuring that your union with her is contractual and binding. If you are the man I’ve come to believe you are you’ll agree to my stipulations.”

“Perhaps I don’t believe Celeste’s well-being is best served by becoming my wife,” I answered carefully. “Perhaps I intend to send her away from me for her own good.”

“Then you are a fool.” Raoul turned to go but stopped in the doorway to look back at me. “All the power in the universe could not hold the two of you apart; I can see that with absolute clarity even if you cannot. Let me know what you decide.”

With that he was gone.

*************************************************************************************

“What will you do when Pierre comes?”

I paused from my work as Celeste’s voice washed over me. For a moment I merely drank in the voice I had helped to bring out, marveling in the crystal tones. She would be such a wonder if I trained her…

“I’ll kill him,” I said distinctly, turning to look at her. “We have discussed this.”

“Have we?” Celeste smiled. Today she wore a gown I had made for Christine, a green confection that brought out the very depths of her eyes. “Forgive me for bringing it up then,” she went on gently. “But I was curious as to how you will react if my brother wants to join you.”

“Your brother will not go with me,” I said firmly. “I doubt he will want to.”

“What if I want to?” Celeste leaned in the doorway, not looking at me. “What if I want to watch?”

I swallowed back a curious thrill that held an even stranger taint. I didn’t know how to answer this question. Such a thing had never entered my mind. “I’m not sure how to reply to that,” I said finally, rising from my chair. “I’d never deny you anything you wanted and I admit you have vested interest in seeing Lescot die, but-”

“You don’t want me to see it,” Celeste finished for me. “Which means you intend to be inventive with his murder.” Her voice held nothing but emotionless beauty for the imagined scenario of Lescot’s death.

“Yes Celeste, that is essentially it,” I answered. “I would not want anyone to see, not even your brother.”

She was silent a moment, her eyes fixed firmly on the gaslight above her head. Then, she smiled and made a noise of amusement. “Then I won’t ask you to involve me,” she said. “It would be wrong to put you in that position.”

Relief flooded me.

“You’ve spent weeks rebuilding me,” Celeste continued. “I fully grasp why you would not want to lead me to violence again.” She brought her gaze back to mine and began to approach me. Her graceful glide held my full attention; I could not look away from her.

“I’m glad you understand,” I said gently. “I don’t want you hurt.”

“That is fine Erik, I’m not upset.” Celeste stopped only inches from me and gazed up into my eyes. “I would never try to make you uncomfortable.”

I watched as she lifted a hand to my chest. The small weight of her palm and delicate fingers spread over my breastbone and I wondered if she could feel the rapid beating of my heart. “How could you not be taken by now?” She murmured. “You are noble and beautiful.”

“I am not beautiful.” I stood frozen, wanting to take her in my arms and yet hesitant to stop her from her outward musings. The key to Celeste was to let her speak, to encourage her to say what was on her mind. I would not break her stride unless she meant to hurt herself. Her eyes were different today, clear and yet warm with secrets.

“You are beautiful Erik; you just don’t understand your own beauty.” Celeste slid her hand to the side of my waist slowly, curling her fingers into the fabric of my coat. “But I’m not going to argue with you about that, not today. Today I just want to sit in here and breathe the same air you breathe.”

She could not seduce me with more effectiveness. I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of her, still paralyzed to stop her wandering hand. Her touch was moving, moving ever so slowly up my trembling arm.

“Is that alright with you? May I sit in here with you while you compose?”

“You may have whatever you want from me,” I answered lowly.

She smiled. “Thank you Erik,” Celeste murmured. “I hope you know I feel the same for you.”

For her sake and mine I retreated to the far corner, making a pretense of looking for my notes. Celeste settled herself into a divan with a book and threw a blanket over her dainty legs. The domestic ease completely took me aback. She was so comfortable with me. I did not have a reason to think she would ever be anything but comfortable with me.

Except for my face.

Surely she did not remember seeing me unmasked. I touched the porcelain on my poor excuse of a face, the eggshell clay so fine I could feel the heat of my fingers through it. Long ago I had made a mask, boasting to Christine that it would make my look like anybody. I had broken that mask and burned the pieces, watched it smolder in the fireplace along with my dreams of unconditional love. If I could keep pretty Celeste from ever having to see my face…

I was a foolish old man.
- 23
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- 25
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Rossignol