Monstret Under Sängen (Phantom of the Opera)

Monstret Under Sängen: Part 6 - Part 4

Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

Yes, your eyes did not deceive you. I have updated quickly! Miracle of miracles! I hope you like this. This is the last part of Part 6 (Yes, it has gone on for 4 parts but  I really don't care and I don't think y'all do either). But, part 7 will come...sooner or later...

sarahlet2999

P.S. I have made a subtle Leroux reference and a Kay reference. Hugs to whoever can figure them out...*sly smile*

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PART 6 – Part 4

"Do you like it?" He asked, clasping his hands in front of his stomach and watching the white-robed child meander about his sitting room. Children liked bright colored things and, this sitting room was anything but that.

A few scant candles flickered against dark red wallpaper and dark gold Persian rugs covered the floors and hid under dark maroon settees and chairs. It was dark. Surely, she couldn't like it?

"It's very elegant." She replied. "But, it needs flowers." She grinned at him, slipping off her mask and turning in a circle about the room. "Like, bouquets of flowers!"

Has she lost her mind?

"Any particular flower?" He asked, going along with her ramblings.

"Roses. Red roses. Maybe a few white here and there? Bound in black or red ribbons!"

"Perhaps when you come again, there will be flowers." He answered, finding himself smiling at the twirling girl, brightening his sitting room with her very presence.

"Can there be? Am I asking too much? I do so love roses, of every color." Her expression turned wistful and he basked in the sight before drawing himself back into the present and saying,

"Shall I find something for you to eat?" She nodded absentmindedly, her eyes focused on the books filling a dark bookcase. Considering anything possibly dangerous to her mind was written in a foreign language, he felt comfortable leaving the child alone to find her something to eat.

His larder proved nearly empty, supplying him only with some cold ham and cheese. For drinking, only water could be found since he wouldn't dream of giving her any form of alcohol. She is far too young.

Unimpressed to the point of being ashamed, he returned with the tray, laden with everything he had, to the sitting room and present it to her, prepared to make appropriate apologies when she exclaimed happily at the food and settled down to her "feast."

"I'm sorry I don't have more..." He trailed off, watching her forget her manners for a moment.

"I haven't had ham in months!" She declared, realizing her actions and ducking her head from him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be so greedy." Retracting her fingers, she stared at the tantalizing pieces of meat and attempted to chew slowly, hesitating glancing up at him to see if he would scold her.

"You needn't mind your manners so closely here. I won't fault you for them." How many times had he gorged himself on a hearty meal after not having eaten fine in weeks or months?

"Thank you. Meat is expensive, only those in the Opera House who can afford to buy meat get to eat it regularly. It's just a treat for the ballet girls." He sadly understood why the finer things of life were denied. Expenses were tight and so often the wealth didn't filter down into the lower dregs of the Opera House employees.

"If you like, you can come here frequently and eat to your hearts content whatever meat you desire the most?" Why am I offering this to her? Spending more time with her in this relationship would only cause problems for the other! He had only meant to exist for the masquerade.

"Do you mean that?" Her blue eyes locked on him, the hope within them tearing away any thoughts he had of completely returning to the shapeless Monstret Under Sängen he had been.

"Yes, I do. Is there something in particular you enjoy?"

"Father and I, whenever had a little bit of a money to spent on a foolish thing would always buy Swedish salmon or herring. It reminded us of home." She paused and licked her fingers before shaking her head and amending her statement. "But, really any meat will do."

He nodded, already processing the best place for Jules to pick up a small shipment of Swedish salmon and Swedish cook book.

While he considered the implications of this new way of cooking, his guest began to nod off over her meal, the excitement of the day finally catching up with her. Before she completely slipped into the world of the sleeping, he scooped her up into his arms, the small girl snuggling against his bony chest and her breathing evening out.

After a moment of her shoulder rise and fall in peaceful rest, he carried her out of his house and back through the tunnels, careful to not jostle her.

In her sleep, her hands latched onto his red cloak, winding the blood cloth tightly through her fingers. When they reached the dormitories, empty as the girls were still out dancing, this proved a great inconvenience as he tried to lay her down in her bed and she wouldn't let go of his cloak.

Sighing with quiet regret, he unbuckled the cloak and carefully wrapped it around her.

"The second cloak you've weaseled from me." He whispered to the sleeping child before being sure she was comfortable and the cold presented no danger to her. The cloak, made of the finest cashmere, would keep even the bitterest winters of Russia out; it should keep a ballet girl warm in the cold dormitories.

He would have stayed longer, perhaps even sung her something but the sounds of pattering feet warned him of the approach of others and he disappeared into the night, thinking nothing of the cloak left behind. Or what a smart girl could deduce from it.