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Portrait of the Soul	By : sirenofsaturn Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 2723 -:- 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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More reviews! Thank you all so much! You phans rock! I just wanted to let everyone know that these chapters would not happen without the support of you guys. I will be forever grateful!
Erik: You make it sound like this is the last chapter…
Oh no! It’s not! Not over yet! That would be wrong. You don’t think I would leave Erik in Russia would you? A reminder that I own nothing except any original characters and this fiction based plot! Do not flame, do not sue!
Chapter thirty-one
‘My life has been nothing but horror even before the day I was born. Inside my mother’s womb for nine months I festered, slowly developing this cursed face, while God turned a blind eye. As a boy of only nine years old I was forced to show my cursed self in front of strangers for greed and wealth, wealth I never was given the opportunity to spend. After leaving the Gypsy camp I began traveling on my own using my talents of music, magic, and ventriloquism. I dare say at times the crowds adored and respected me, but humans always want more. No matter how much I gave and gave they all wanted to see.
“Show us your face Erik!”
“Take off the mask and sing for us!”
Taunting me until I showed them what they wanted. All the beauty in my voice could not make up for their horror. It is truly a trade off my gifted talents for my cursed face. If any comfort were to come from all those years of prostituting my talents for greed it was the knowledge that it was the last time. The same people would never come back. I would never have to meet these people on the streets, within weeks I would move on to the next fair. I never believed I would meet someone of coincidence who had seen my damnable face. After all these years I should have learned to expect the unexpected.’
Erik continued to stare at the old woman, not sure of how to respond. He never imagined this situation would fall on him. He never imagined Mia’s old, half-mad; grandmother would have been one of the spectators to a gypsy freak show.
“Madam…I beg your pardon…but I can not-“
“There is nothing to pardon.” The Baba waved off. “Now I told you, call me Baba.” She smiled as her withered fingers gently grabbed his leather clad ones.
“Now Erik, this may be hard to imagine…but I was once a very beautiful young woman.”
The magician watched her stop to run her hand across her wrinkled cheek.
“Beautiful…and just as independent as Mia. When I was a young woman. I made my way to France. It was a beautiful country. I fell in love with its language and art…I even fell in love with a man, who eventually became my husband.”
“…You mentioned so.” Erik nodded, taking slower steps to match the woman’s pace.
“Yes…However, I was afraid. I was afraid of marriage Erik. My whole family was built on the tradition of a woman marrying a man, having his children, and doing nothing more. Through out all these years, it appears most women are facing the same fate. Can you understand how scared that made me Erik?”
He nodded; giving her the best eye contact he could while walking.
“When Peter, my late husband, asked me to marry him; he was beginning work on a new building. He was an architect you see, just like you? His project would take him a few months. I asked him if he would meet me in Russia once he was done with his work, and he agreed.”
“Why Russia?” Erik inquired.
“I wished to inform my family in person, and also to give myself more time to travel. I went to Belgium, Poland, and eventually Italy. It was Italy, you see, were I first had the opportunity to see gypsies. I was drawn to their shows. I wanted to see the magical things that had been shielded from my eyes as a child. Many things I was curious about, such as palm reading and tarot cards, were from the gypsy world. You can not blame me for venturing a look?”
Shaking his head the magician replied, “How could I Mada-…Baba…I myself have always been drawn to the things I was introduced to as a child.”
“…It was through those tents…that I first saw you Erik, as a child. I remember wondering why so many people were drawn to a boy. A boy so young and thin, with a mask stitched of leather covering his face…These people were mad, all coming to see a boy with a horrid title instead of a name.”
“The living corpse.” Erik hissed.
“…Yes. However, Erik, that little corpse…with his little violin…played music that would make God himself weep. That corpse, Erik, could perform the most amazing ventriloquism anyone had ever witnessed. I truly believed the lilies were singing…and then came the end of the performance. That horrible man…the man who kept beating you…”
“…I never wanted to take off my mask at the end of the performance…but that was our bargain.” Erik remembered. “I was allowed to show my talents…as long as I unmasked myself in the end.”
“I remember watching the screaming people. Some people I head making fun later that evening. It was that moment that I realized that I wanted a family. I wanted to teach my children that all of God’s people are equal, no matter what they do…or what they look like. We are all equal Erik. You are equal, maybe even something more.”
“…Thank you, but I’m afraid some things that you may believe are not shared with the rest of the world.”
“I know…but maybe one day they can be.”
“You should take assurance though…your teachings has at least passed down to your granddaughter.”
“Yes…She is my favorite…Just don’t tell her sisters. Oh and Erik…do not worry, this secret is safe with me, unless you choose to tell it yourself.”
Erik tensed. “I appreciate that, however why would you keep something like that…I am sure if Madam Nitsee wished to find a reason for me to leave her home, she would die to hear that tale.”
“I would never wish that on you Erik.” The Baba said. “Besides, did you know I was once a very timid woman?”
Erik stared his eyes full of disbelief. “Really?”
“Oh yes!” The woman reassured. “When I went to the gypsy camp, I was much too afraid to go alone…I took an escort…someone who was not Mia’s grandfather…A man who was…more than an escort. That Erik is a secret, like my seeing you at the gypsy camp. That is a secret I have not spoken to anyone before, and shall not.”
“…I understand.” Erik smiled. “A secret of yours I now know…In exchange for my own?”
“You are clever…Mia is very blessed to have met someone like you…and you are very blessed to have met her.”
“Blessed…is not the word…”Erik sighed.
Mia sighed as she rubbed her slightly burning ears. ‘I have barely been gone from the table very long and mother is no doubt telling Erik all about me…’ Shaking her head to clear her mind Mia turned her attention to her sister, she had more important matters to attend to. Taking a seat on the bed next to her sibling she glared.
“I find it amazing that I left Russia on surprisingly good terms with my entire family, and have returned to find that my sister is either angry with me; or has lost her mind.”
“How did you even attract a man with a mouth such as that?”
“I attracted him with my brain…you are the sibling that attracts men with your visible body parts.” Mia said coolly.
“Plotz!”
“Do not wish things like that on your elder sister, Shikse.”
“At least Joshua is no Schlemazle! For this Erik must be very unlucky to be with one such as you…or I wonder sister…is it you who are the Schlemazle!”
Nette stopped her assault only to caress her now swollen red cheek. “How dare you!”
“How dare you!” Mia screamed, lowering her hand. “What did I do Nette? What did I do to cause you to speak such things! …Why do you hate me?” Mia finally whispered.
“…I don’t hate you.” Her younger sister admitted removing her hand from her cheek. “…I’m just…angry…”
“At what?”
“Mia…I am in love Joshua.” Netsee smiled cupping her hands over her heart.
“Then why are you angry?” Mia asked, already use to her sisters dramatic moods.
“Because of you Mia! Because of you, I cannot get married. I am not allowed to marry until you do. That is our house rule, it has been even before Alexandra met Demetree.”
“Nette. I am sure Papa would let you marry this boy if I am not wed.”
“Papa, my dear sister, is not the problem.”
“Ah,” Mia sighed laying back onto the mattress. “…Do you find it interesting? Men are supposed to be the heads of their households…but in our family Mother is the one who makes the biggest decisions.”
Nette leaned back also next to her sister. “Yes…Father’s biggest concern has always been if there was enough gravy for his dinner.”
The two sisters shared a laugh.
“…I’ll talk to mother for you.” Mia stated.
“Really?” Nette brightened.
“Yes…I have to talk to her about Peter anyway…but you have to apologize to Erik…and mind yourself around him…You are my little sister…but you’re also an adult. Act like one.”
“Yes, of course…I was being terribly rude…I am sorry to you as well Mia. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“Neither did I.” Mia brushed off rising to get off the bed.
“Mia.” Nette called, standing from the bed herself. “Do you think…after you talk to mother about Joshua and I…that you might marry yourself?”
“W-what?” The artist stuttered turning around.
“Has it not come up? When would you make your decision?”
“When is not the question! If this had come up, my decision, should I be asked, would be if I would…”
“What do you mean?” Nette asked coming to stand next to her sister. “Would you marry Erik?”
“…I…I do not know.”
Yeah, I think I’ll stop there. I hope you all enjoyed Baba’s tale and a sisterly catfight. Thank you so much for the reviews! They help me so much! Please guys keep them coming this story is not entirely close to being finished but it’s making its way there!
Erik: And the world took a collective sigh of a relief…
/Glare/ Anyway, please remember the disclaimer from above and have a great weekend!
Erik: Please review.
Plotz- Drop dead
Shikse- An attractive dim-witted woman
Schlemazle- someone who has bad luck, is very unfortunate

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Portrait of the Soul