Chapter 1

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Movement 1: Overture
No Such Thing as Happily Ever After

Erik leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on his desk and closing his eyes as he tipped his head back. He wallowed in silence, letting the darkness of the room lull him into relative peace.

He had a splitting headache and a tightness that had developed in his shoulders had migrated to the base of his skull. He sighed heavily. The thick curtains were pulled closed and the heavy wooden door shut to keep out curious intruders.

He was not in the mood today to give Felix their usual morning walk. He had no appetite for breakfast and he had struggled simply to pull himself out of bed. Shutting himself up in his office, he hoped the closed door would send them all a signal that he was not to be-

"Father?"

The door cracked open. Erik kept his eyes closed, hoping Felix would go away. The door creaked a little as it was opened wider. Something was set on his desk. Erik lifted his hand slowly, waving it and his son away.

"Father? Maman wonders if you will eat."

"No." He growled.

"Should I bring you tea? S-She said you have a-"

"No. Leave, please."

Felix hesitated. "But-"

"Now." He opened his eyes, watching his son stumble back. He thought that his eyes were probably a bright golden in the dim lighting.

Felix swallowed audibly. He blinked slowly, looked down and away, hiding his own golden gaze. It was his one and only signal that he was hurt and Erik was still struggling to understand all of the others. But this one he knew well. This one he had caused a number of times. He sighed slowly. "Felix-"

"Okay." Felix whispered. He spun on his heel and walked out, closing the door silently. Erik flinched when it clicked. Alouette would have slammed it. But Felix, like his mother, could scream through silence. It only joined the raging noise in his head, pounding in guilt and raving in anger. He preferred if they yelled at him. He preferred threats and fury and fear to the silence and smiles, trying to tell him how wrong he was by pretending to be fine.

Lunette didn't come in to scold him. He'd really done it now. Of course, now they were both angry with him. He shouldn't be surprised. When had he done anything right lately? When had he been a good father or husband lately? He just couldn't do it.

He wasn't cut out for this, never had been. He should have simply remained in his labyrinth and died in peace. He should have sent Lunette away.

Should have, could have, would have had she not beguiled him with those big brown eyes and that forgiving smile.

He was surprised he had yet to ruin her. After all he'd put them through in the last twenty years, he was surprised he had not destroyed everything in his life and returned to solitude.

Groaning, Erik buried his face in his hands. The headache worsened tenfold.

He just wanted to sleep. Unconsciousness was infinitely preferable to this hell he had forced them into.

**

Lunette finished braiding her hair down her back just as Erik opened the door. He avoided her gaze, opting instead to change into his night clothes and then open the window against the oppressive heat. He stood there for a long moment, his hands resting on the sill and his foot tapping absently.

Hoping to be able to cheer him up after this week long gloom he'd settled into, Lunette slid off the bed and crept behind him on bare feet. He turned his head slightly when she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his back.

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