phantom of the opera oneshots, originally published on AO3, FFN, and Tumblr (under the same username!)
all of my phantom oneshots will now be published here instead of in my oneshots book :)
cover by BrendaDaaeDestler!
these are a series of daily Phantom prompts created by CoatNTails on Tumblr and I'll be posting them here!
~
today's prompts: ensnared/bound/seduced
Erik leaned heavily against the door as he closed it, taking a deep breath and slowly closing his eyes. He could still hear the raucous sounds of the party, the grand halls and archways of the shah's palace carrying the noise of the party guests far away from the courtyards and ceremonial halls. The last thing he wanted was to be surrounded by all the members of the shah's court and the rest of his guests, but alas, he was forced to. Power was a terrible thing sometimes.
With another sigh, he ran a hand over his face and through his hair, taking a step away and looking around the extravagant room that he had stepped into to escape from the prying eyes for the moment. Everything around him screamed 'wealth,' which he knew the shah never tired of displaying to everyone around him; the gold objects, the precious stones, the colourful mosaic pieces. Even his own clothing, practically dripping in gold, put the Persian ruler's wealth on display for all those who visited the palace and saw him perform.
It also was yet another symbol of how the shah held him captive.
Erik would be lying if he said that anything he presently had in his possession hadn't been handed to him by the shah when he had arrived in Persia; he had private quarters in the palace, he had all the wealth he could ever ask for, he had servants at his beck and call, but he had earned none of it. It all belonged to the shah, and it could be taken away at any moment. He belonged to the shah and he too could have his very life ripped away from him at any given moment, should the shah wish it.
With a growl, Erik picked up one of the ornaments on a nearby table - a golden statue of a lion, yet another symbol of the king's supposed power and divinity - and whipped it across the room, right at a portrait of the shah, his wife, and son. It hadn't gone through the canvas, but a small part of him wished it had.
He had been a prisoner his entire life; from his own childhood home to the cage in the circus, and now here, he could never escape it. All that time, though, he had been held captive for his face, bound by the fact that society could never expect something so vastly different from the norm, but here...here that played into things, true, but his voice and his skills that had been exploited so furiously were the real cause of his enslavement. That much he knew for certain.
His voice had been his comfort for so long. It was all he had in his mother's dark attic and in the cold, damp cage that had been his home for the few years he had travelled with the circus. He had hoped he would have that all his life, but after arriving in Persia, it seemed like he no longer could. Never in the same way that he once had. Now, he would sing, and then he would kill. He wasn't just the court magician or performer; he was the shah's executioner. The Angel of Death with a beautiful voice that could entertain the royals as he brought their enemies or simply someone that had crossed them that day to a painful end.
From then on, his voice would always be dripping in blood, in the memories of the darkest period in his life that even that the highest quality opium couldn't cloud, and there was nothing that he could do to stop it.
He glanced over his shoulder slightly when he heard the door open and saw the familiar figure of his friend stepping into the room. "You always manage to find me when I want to hide."
He heard Nadir chuckle ever so slightly. "It is my job," he replied, only to sigh. "They're asking for you."
"Whatever for, Daroga? My performance is over for this evening, they seemed rather impressed with the magic and all. The fire was a new addition, I had thought they would be satisfied with that for the night. It appeared that way, anyhow."
"You know what for, Erik."
Erik hung his head but nodded as he straightened out his robes and turned to walk towards the door, pausing by Nadir's side and looking over at him. "Just because I know doesn't mean that I don't wish it'll be different every single time," he said before he turned and walked out without letting his friend respond. He had to go face his captor and do his bidding, helpless to even attempt to do anything else.
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