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Somewhere only We belong to	By : InfernalParadise Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 5210 -:- 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
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Disclaimer: Once again, Erik's alright in my bedroom. Rest doesn't belong to me. ;)
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Chapter 3
An unfortunate Encounter

The premiere earned the Opera Populaire a gigantic triumph, thus it was no wonder when André and Firmin reached a hilarious state of drunkenness within the first hour of the big party afterwards. Raoul couldn’t stop telling Christine how wonderful she had sung, Meg disappeared with one of the other ballet girls to probably get hopelessly drunk on champagne as well, Madame Giry collapsed with a relieved sigh onto the couch in her room, and Seraphine was utterly bored as she stood next to Raoul, having to bear his endless stories about Christine’s talent. She wondered how the young singer would react when she’d find the red rose, decorated by a black ribbon, on her powder table later, for she knew that Erik had already placed it there as a sign of his approval to her tonight’s performance. Otherwise it would be suspicious that the Phantom, having cared so much for her according to all rumors, suddenly acted as if she’d never been his student. To guess about Raoul’s behavior, however, was a rather unpleasant thought, Seraphine decided while the young Viscomte started his praising for the seventh time within ten minutes. Excusing herself, she retired to her room, feeling somehow relieved as she closed the door behind her. Soft moonlight fell through the window to reveal an envelope laying next to a rose on her bed. With a smile, Seraphine opened it to be greeted by a familiar, curved writing.
Dearest angel,
rumors are haunting the Opera again about the Phantom having discovered its passion for abducting young women and ravishing them in his secret world no one has ever returned from.
You were breathtaking tonight, thus awakening the interest of the Opera Ghost.
Be careful…
Yours eternally,
Erik
Seraphine nearly laughed at his words because there was hardly ever a day he didn’t come up with another game to entertain them both. For a brief moment she considered writing him back, but her body protested, wanting to meet what it craved for so desperately, thus she left to go to Erik, not thinking of hiding his letter which turned out to be a fatal mistake when Raoul entered her room a few minutes later. In fact, he’d only wanted to check on her as been told by Christine, but curiosity made him step closer to the still opened letter. He didn’t even finish – although a little more attention to the obvious wink between the lines couldn’t have hurt. Seraphine was dear to Christine and him, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her… the least having this monster taking her against his will thanks to its mean seduction.
Almost hero-like, he stormed away to find Christine’s room with the mirror of which’s secret he knew. He would have never gone down there since the Phantom had given up his future wife, but now as the adrenaline rushed through his blood, he could no longer refuse. Tension and anger blinded his sight for any sensible explanation, making it hard to think straight at all. And right in time he just arrived in the underground nightmare, indeed. With Seraphine wearing no more than her undergarment pressed against the wall by the monster that had freed itself from its blouse, still wearing the black mask and pants of the same color, Raoul found himself absolutely confirmed in his terrible suspect.
"Take your filthy hands off her, you disgusting monster!", he shouted before realizing that the only weapon he carried with him were his fists. Truly startled, Erik swung around to face the unexpected intruder. And never before had he become as enraged as at the sight of the Viscomte.
"You are not welcome", he said with deadly hostility in his voice, willing to let Raoul go unharmed, though. But Raoul chose to make a fatal mistake, because he approached Erik in his no doubt noble intention to free Seraphine who was so utterly confused that she didn’t find any words to say.
"Don’t worry – he won’t touch you", Raoul told her, never taking his eyes off the Phantom, "I’ll get you out from this dungeon and he won’t dare touching you!"
He came to a halt a few steps away from Erik who showed a sinister smile.
"It might interest you to hear that I’ve already touched her in more ways than you can ever dream of."
Raoul’s eyes opened wide just at the imagination, and he lunged forward to bring himself between Erik and Seraphine, protecting her with his own body.
"You perverse monster", he spat out in contempt, before he raised his hand in a quick move and ripped the black mask off of the Phantom’s face. The sight of Erik’s deformation sent shivers down Raoul’s spine. Once more, he tried to imagine how this animal had ravished Seraphine on the cold stone of its dark world, how the ugly side of its face might have rubbed against her soft skin. A deep disgust filled him at those thoughts.
"For this you’ll face death", he finally managed to bring out, but Seraphine was suddenly between himself and Erik.
"Don’t! He’ll hurt you", Raoul started, being cut short by her icy voice.
"How dare you? You know nothing and still you want to play the hero."
All of a sudden it dawned on him even if it did reluctantly for his mind refused to actually believe.
"The Phantom’s whore, then", he stated with a mocking laugh, not expecting Seraphine to reply.
"I’d rather be his whore than the wife of an arrogant, brainless aristocrat like you!"
Raoul’s hand collided with her face and she felt a tiny line of blood running over her eyebrow when the big, sharp family ring of the De Chagnys cut into the flesh above the skin there. By doing so, however, he had Erik declaring war on him. With a quiet noise, the Phantom’s rope closed around his neck, making it almost impossible for Raoul to breathe. Deep inside he realized that he had gone too for, but regret didn’t come as easily as the terror he felt because of Erik.
"Now, Monsieur", the Phantom hissed into his ear, "Who’s turn is it to judge about other people?"
"I’m sorry", Raoul gasped, suddenly comprehending that his life was worth nothing more than a few more seconds if Erik continued. Yet strangely, rescue came from a source he wouldn’t have dared to hope for anymore.
"Let him go, Erik", Seraphine’s voice sounded toneless, not showing any emotion. And to all their surprise, Erik did as he was told, letting Raoul use his feet as fast as he had never done before.
"Are you alright?", Erik asked when they were alone again, rushing to her side to hold her.
"I won’t ever leave you", her voice moved somewhere between anger and desperation, "No matter what he does or tells about us… I love you, Erik."
Seraphine clung to him and he suppressed a sob at her honest words. Showering her neck and face with kisses, he embraced her tightly, not wanting to think of anything else than her in his arms.
"Don’t worry, my love", Erik whispered before cupping her face with both hands to look into her eyes, "He’s just a rich, stupid boy."
He took a closer look at the small injury Raoul had caused, feeling the anger boil inside himself again. With a gentle touch he stroked his thumb over the little cut before his lips planted a soft kiss on it. Seraphine leaned against him, finally giving into her tears, and Erik rocked her as he had done when she’d still been a child. His lips parted to release quiet words he sang to her although it was a song that had always belonged so much to his own pain that he would have never thought of sharing it with anyone else. And still he wished to share his everything with her, not wanting to have any secrets between them because he loved her beyond what words were able to describe.
Calmer again, Seraphine pulled away and lay one hand on the deformed flesh of his face.
"You are no monster stilling its needs", she said in a quiet tone as she leaned forward to kiss the rough skin, pressing her body forcefully against his, "Let us forget anything he said, love… just let us forget…"
Erik scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom, laying her carefully down after helping her to free her from her clothes. All the wile – even when he silently undressed himself – she didn’t speak a single word, but looked at him as if there were nothing else existing next to him. And Erik continued his soft song, giving her a smile as he did so. In the beginning of the night, he had truly wanted to abduct her, making her his once again by ravishing her body in blind, yet sweet passion, but now he only longed to show her his love and the deep adoration he felt.
Seraphine turned onto her side away from him when he joined her in bed, and Erik simply stroked her shoulders for a while, before he ended his song to let silence take its place again.
"Do you want to go to sleep?"
The last thing he wanted was forcing her into anything. But Seraphine shook her head, closed her eyes and waited. Erik drew her closer to himself until her bare back pressed against his chest. It astonished him how fragile she suddenly seemed to be although he knew that was hardly the truth. Rubbing his face’s rough side against her, he wrapped an arm around her body, letting it slowly slide lower until he rested his warm palm on the skin above her navel.
"Will you carry my child one day?"
For a torturing long moment no reply came back, but then Seraphine rose and turned around to face him. It caused him pure joy when he saw the hidden laugh around her lips.
"What makes you think you need to ask?", she wanted to know and threw herself at him. They rolled around on the bed, feeling how the tension of the last hour finally fell from them.
"Erik?"
"Yes?", he looked down on her, once again being on top.
"Can you love me the way you did yesterday night?"
Obviously taken by surprise that she’d actually ask, he nodded and kissed her gently, licking at her lips before he parted them with his tongue. Seraphine buried her hands in his hair as he deepened the kiss. And another couple of impassioned kisses and lovingly touches later, Erik made lover to her like the night before, giving both the opportunity to be as close to each other as possible while pleasure took them over.
Their parting the next day was unusual hard, and Seraphine found herself even weeping at the thought of returning into the Opera house above. She hated Raoul for whatever he had broken inside herself as she felt so different after that unfortunate event the night before.
"Let me stay", she begged Erik again, clinging so tightly to him that he gave a sigh because it was impossible to make her go.
"I can’t, love", he brushed a kiss against her lips but his further intended words were cut short by Seraphine opening her mouth and slipping her tongue between his slightly parted lips. Erik moaned at her invasion, but grabbed her hips to bring some distance between them. He knew if he let himself give in, he would have her right against the tunnel wall of his underground labyrinth and the chance of letting her go would get terribly impossible. Of course his body welcomed the thought of keeping her down here with him forever, yet his mind scolded him for the sheer imagination. She had to return to the real world, they both knew all too well. Thus Erik cupped her face with another sigh, forcing her to stop any attacks on his lips. What he expected least, however, was Seraphine giving out a low growl before lunging forward and bringing them to a fall on the cool ground. Erik found himself trapped beneath her body, but instantly reacting to any of her movements. With a strong grip he closed his fingers around her wrists as he looked up into her eyes.
"Don’t", he hissed sharply, "not like this."
"Your body says another thing", she replied, pressing down on him and forcing a moan to escape his lips. How he hated his treacherous body for its reaction to her. Considering the chance to actually take her like that on the ground for one moment, Erik shook his head and swapped positions.
"I love you, Seraphine. And you’re right – I want you more than ever. But I won’t take you like a cheap whore on the stones here."
She sighed in deep frustration although his words called to her conscience that had obviously been on vacation during the last night.
"How the hell am I supposed to let you go when you make it so hard for me?", he demanded to know, raising her body to hug her in a sitting position. Her arms went around him as she caressed his face with her lips.
"I don’t want you to let me go, Erik. What if Raoul…"
But he narrowed his eyes at her almost with a sinister gaze.
"He won’t dare to, trust me. Seraphine, I know the world outside may be unkind, but I promise you that nothing will ever get between us. Did you hear me? I won’t let anything happen to us."
For a moment they simply looked at each other, before she realized it was the truth. Whatever Erik said, it never failed her trust into his words for she relied on him. The world could end tomorrow, yet if he said it would not, she’d be right to believe it. There was a menacing, yet strong will in every promise he gave that convinced her no matter how much uncertainty she had felt before.
"I love you, Erik", she simply said when he helped her up, and a smile took off his dark expression.
They continued their way through the tunnel until they reached one of the countless secret doors that lead to rooms and corridors of the Opera. If people knew of the many hidden ways to the Phantom’s lair, they would probably never enter the Opera Populaire again, Seraphine mused. But Erik didn’t care to use his doors to search through foreign rooms or scare little ballerinas as he respected the wish for privacy as long as his own was granted as well.
"From here on you will have to go without me, my goddess", he told her, wanting to open the hidden door in front of them, but Seraphine turned around to face him.
"What?"
"You will have to go alone", he repeated with a little astonishment because he had made his words very clear in his opinion.
"No, what did you call me?"
A grin appeared on his face.
"My goddess."
And with that, he lifted her up to swirl her around, eliciting a laughter from both of them. He loved the sound of her happiness nearly as much as her arms closing around his neck this very moment to kiss him tenderly.
"You truly are the only one I will ever adore with my every being, Seraphine."
"You are such a toady, Erik", she informed him with a laugh, "One day you will make my ego go mad with your praising."
"It’s only fair… after all you’re driving me mad as well", he defended himself, but hugged her closely to his body, inhaling her scent as he felt her fingers gliding through his hair.
"And now… go", with a soft clap on her bottom that got responded by Seraphine sticking her tongue out at him, he signed her to go through the secret door, "I’ll still have to remind my managers to pay my salary right in time."
"Am I seeing you tonight?"
Instead of an immediate answer, Erik closed the door behind her with a cryptic smile, leaving her to face the wall. Seraphine could have strangled him that very moment although she had learned to interpret most of his smiles and grimaces by now. He seemed to utterly enjoy it whenever he left her in uncertainty about his own person, giving his status as the Phantom most honor.
Seraphine was afraid Raoul would tell others about the misfortunate encounter down at Erik’s lair, but he hadn’t so far. The looks he gave her whenever they met by chance were way worse anyway. He loathed and at the same time pitied her, although in fact he blamed only Erik who – he was sure – had used some hypnotizing spell on her to make her actually do those things. In his eyes, she was still a young, innocent girl that had been trapped, betrayed and mainly abused by a monster haunting the Opera as well as its people. Whenever he crossed her, his mind created cruel images to torture him once again. He saw her on her back, this thing pounding into her as she begged it to stop… hands were touching her at places he didn’t even want to know… and God, that face! In all his most horrible nightmares, Raoul had never been confronted with anything similar to it. A single mask of terror and distortion, a reflection of the dark vicious soul or whatever lived inside this crawling carcass. No wonder the Phantom lived beneath the Opera in solitude – anyone to share his presence would have suffered from lifelong fear.
And yet so little of his wandering thoughts hit the truth about what was actually going in the dark underground world. Seraphine was on her back sometimes, indeed, but the only reasons to beg for were when Erik abused her ticklish skin to his own amusement and whenever the pace of their love-making demanded a quicker speed. Hands were touching her at places Raoul didn’t like to imagine, yet every single movement of Erik’s body caused her delight for the love in his eyes was always present. And his face… somehow Seraphine never succeeded in seeing the terror about it as other people probably would have done at the sight of the deformation. To her, Erik was as perfect as she was in his eyes and she would have never even dared to blame him for a blemish that was clearly not his fault. Besides, it was so small she hardly ever thought about it anyway. She enjoyed to take off his mask because underneath was the person she loved with every part of her being, still she didn’t pay attention to the deformation whenever she did so since it was nothing more than a part of Erik’s body. The rare times she actually remembered the right side of his face were when the rough flesh there brushed against her inner thigh. And that was always combined with him causing her incredible pleasure, thus it only aroused her more instead of filling her with disgust. Seraphine knew so many people that owned beauty on the outside, but were terribly ugly when it came to their soul – the Opera was in fact filled with such walking lies. But Erik never hid his intentions, and he made his demands crystal-clear for the people he addressed them to, thus "accidents" like the one including Joseph Buquet were very rare if not unlikely. That most of the truth counted little for Raoul, however, seemed to be obvious, and maybe he couldn’t even be blamed for it. All Raoul had ever known was aristocracy and the knowledge that anything was possible if you had the money to convince the people. Beauty ruled the upper class. And any blemish inevitably lead to prejudices without further thoughts. Was it Raoul’s fault how he had been raised? But was it his fault, either, that he refused to open his eyes to a world different to his own, maybe realer?
By the end of the week, Seraphine’s and his ways crossed once more, and this time he couldn’t bite back a comment.
"Not much longer and you will be free again", he told her, receiving a confused look. A pretty sadistic laugh escaped his lips when he noticed her expression.
"I see you are not informed yet. Well, I wouldn’t ever want to spoil the best", with a smooth movement he leaned forward to talk into her ear, "but soon his little perversions won’t get the chance to take place anymore. Maybe you should commend him to get a real whore right in time. Oh, and by the way – welcome to the rich world…"
Not waiting for a reply, Raoul released a final grin and took his leave. Seraphine considered the chance that the Viscomte had actually gone completely insane, but something in his words seemed to be truer than she wished it to be even if she couldn’t get much sense out of them.
Shrugging the uncomfortable feeling away, she made her way to her room where she was greeted by a strange group of people as well as Madame Giry and Meg. It dawned on her that she recognized two of the foreigners as distantly familiar – maybe from a picture in the papers? At least they looked like the richest and most idiotic aristocrats of Paris which was no hard task if you wore clothes like they did. Madame Giry looked up in unease, her face pale and the sorrow present in her eyes.
"Seraphine", she came up to her substitute daughter with shaky legs, "I never thought of anything like that actually happening… but those are your parents."
"The richest family in all of Paris – and probably even France", Meg added quiet enough to not let anyone else hear her words.
Seraphine stared at the couple in front of her, surrounded by three servants.
"My parents? But you told me I was abandoned as a child!"
"Oh, my dear", Madame Ducard approached her with regret on her eyes, "we’ve always wanted just the best for you. Given the situation then, however, we had to give you up to not put your life in danger."
Suppressing a sob, Madame Giry left the room, leaving the Ducards to talk to their daughter she had so long called her own. Around the next corner, she bumped into something soft and warm in the darkness that gave her support in her desperation.
"Erik", she only cried into his chest as he held her, his own pain nearly unbearable.
"They will not take her away from you nor me", an angry growl came out of his throat that scared Madame Giry for she knew what he was able to do when in rage.
"But they are her parents. They deserve to have their daughter back after all those years."
"And where have her glorious parents been during that time? Counting their money, having dinner with the De Chagnys? All they need to take care of now is a young woman and the goal to get the richest husband for her. I rather have a heartless mother like mine than such fake liars!"
"Please, Erik", Madame Giry looked up to meet his eyes, "promise me you won’t harm them!"
"This promise, Madame Giry, is the only one I can’t ever give you", Erik retreated into the shadows once again, leaving the woman stand alone in the corridor with nothing but her pain about the loss she had just experienced. That very moment, Madame Giry remembered a talk of some days ago when Erik had visited her in the ballerina’s dressing room at night – an act he had barely ever done before. They had chatted with each other almost carelessly, although Madame Giry had known the real source for Erik’s suddenly behavior. He wanted to assure her that he was serious with Seraphine. Too many young ballerinas had the ballet teacher already seen getting betrayed, abused and sometimes even impregnated by dark strangers, and the fear of Erik being not different appeared only normal, he even understood her worries. Little did he know that Madame Giry knew him better than he had expected to. She was well aware that never before he had let anyone get actually close to him – even their so-called relationship had always been quite distant. With Seraphine being around, however, his whole person seemed to change. Even the warning letters to the managers about his salary not being paid right in time yet again turned into friendlier tones.
And somehow, as time had progressed, both of them had come across the reason why she had been raising them instead of their real parents.
"I know that your mother abandoned you because of the fear and loathing she felt, Erik", Madame Giry had said, gently stroking over her substitute son’s well face side, "but when it comes to Seraphine, I have to admit that I know nothing. She was abandoned in a little basket, not much older than a few days that time. The only thing I found next to it was a note telling her name and wishing for her to be raised in safety and love."
"Where did you find her?"
"Near the Opera", the elder woman had frowned at the memory, "Strangely it never occurred to me that she actually had been abandoned. There seemed to be so much love in the way she was wrapped into the basket, so much care in the lines of the short letter. I always rather thought she was given up for good."
Given up for good, Madame Giry thought while she couldn’t hold back her tears. Over all those years, she had loved Seraphine as much as her own daughter Meg or her second foundling Erik. To her, all three were dear, relying on her as their mother. And now she was supposed to give her away to strangers like a dog she had just taken care of during a vacancy? An angry sob escaped her throat. A vacancy that had taken more than twenty years. She would never be able to forgive the Ducards, it became obvious to her. She might pretend one day she had forgotten this very day, but deep inside she knew that nothing could ever take away the pain and injustice they had caused.
At the same time, Seraphine saw herself confronted with people who called themselves her parents but were utterly foreign to her. All their excuses for their action years ago came to her ear and drifted away as if she had never heard them. Suddenly she felt so wrong, wanting nothing more than to wake up with Erik’s arms around her and his voice soothing her that it was nothing but a dark dream. He would sing her into sleep again, and by morning she would already have forgotten anything. But it felt so terribly real, she realized as Madame Ducard took her hand to take a close look at her daughter.
"You resemble my mother so much", she noticed as she signed her husband to come over. While she herself seemed to be nobility in person, Monsieur Ducard appeared rather down to earth, filling the room with his warm smile as he approached them both.
"It’s Agatha, indeed", he nod in approval.
Not even half an hour later, the Ducards had their daughter leaving with them, and Seraphine’s heart broke nearly into thousand pieces as she hadn’t gotten any chance to inform Erik of the new events, let alone see him one last time. When she entered the comfortable carriage her parents owned, she turned around to face Madame Giry who had her tears more or less under control by now. Strangely, however, it didn’t feel like a goodbye to Seraphine – more as if she were only going to be on a longer than expected vacancy with people she had happened to met by chance. Judging by the expression on her substitute mother’s face, that feeling was mutual, since no words of goodbye were exchanged. She would return to the Opera, and if she had to climb out a window in the fifth floor, run through Paris at night and knock at the Opera’s backdoor until her finger knuckles bled, it still wouldn’t keep her from her intentions. Here lay her home, her heart, her love, and the family she truly belonged to – the Ducards, however, owned nothing of her. As the carriage started to move, no one noticed the dark figure on the Opera’s roof that stood like a warning sign with its back to the pale sunset. Gloved fists clenched in blind rage, burning eyes watched the carriage disappear in the streets. Tonight, the world would witness his vengeance and the upper class of Paris would not be able to escape the Phantom’s wrath.
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Somewhere only We belong to