The Phantom's Guardian (the Phantom of the Opera fan fiction)

Part 21 - Ghosts of the Past

  

"I still find it humorous that you seem to be more competent in womanly chores, boy.", the Phantom mused. He was sitting at the table, writing a letter and Desiree sat at the wall alcove, mending a torn shirt under candlelight, her hand deftly guiding the needle through the fabric.

Desiree peeked at him to make sure he did not seem suspicious, and then replied, "I told you, I learned it by helping my mother." She added some more accusations just to keep him diverted from the topic of her gender. "Come to think of it, Master, I don't think you do much manly labour too, do you? You spent all day either lurking around or composing."

Her plan worked brilliantly.

The Phantom huffed indignantly, "Hmph.. I'll have you know that I am quite a talented architect, young one. I built a number of grand structures, some of which you might even call unique in their design and intricacy. This theatre and all the secret passages are a validation of my intellect, don't you think?"

"Well, you did a great job with this theatre, that much I agree. Where did you learn all this, master?" Desiree risked a question.

His voice takes on a low tone and his dark green eyes became vacant, indications that his mind was somewhere far away.

"Through long hours of reading and boredom. I also held a fascination for anything beautiful and was eager to learn what makes it beautiful. Music was the most compelling art to me as it influences a sense unrelated with vision. A blind person can appreciate the beauty of music, as it never attempts to deceive the recipient. I guess that was what drove me to obsess with aesthetics."

"You mean you did not have a teacher to teach you all this? My, my You must have been a prodigy, Master." Desiree asked incredulously.

"I did have teachers. I was deemed both a prodigy and an oddity by all of them, however brief the time they spent with me. Living as a phantom was not my choice, rather a choice placed in front of me by society. And that is why I decided to go with the name Opera Ghost or Phantom. Mostly, people wish to experience beautiful things but not always the maker responsible. That is the nature of things."

Desiree could just imagine the feelings he harboured about beauty. For him, beauty must have been a mystery of nature, one that he had to unravel. This must have been the driving factor for his dedication in arts, she concluded. However, she just couldn't stomach that he felt himself needed to hide behind imaginary names.

"But not me, Master. I want to know you as a person, not some unknown artist. In fact, I don't even want to call you as Monsieur Phantom or Opera Ghost. I feel quite detached using such names. They make the idea of you so... deceptive."

He was quiet for a long time so Desiree deemed their conversation was over. She finished her sewing and got up, starting to walk towards her own storage quarters.

"..Erik.."

"Yes, Master." Desiree paused and replied, thinking that he was calling her name (Derrick).

"You may call me Erik when there are no people around. It is my name." The Phantom repeated. His voice was level, casual, even, but Desiree noted a hint of vulnerability in the baritone.

Hand on the curtain, Desiree's back stiffened and her eyes widened in recognition. She then whirled around suddenly.

"Oh my god, can I really call you by your name, Master? I mean, I have always called you Master, so it might even be difficult to change now. But of course, I would call you Erik if it pleases you. Nevertheless, it would make me sooo happy. Thank you," Desiree gushed, almost giddy with butterflies in her belly.

Erik just groaned. He growled in a low voice,

"Do not make me regret my decision, boy."

"Oh, of course. I'll leave you be now." Desiree agreed and turned into her room. However, her mouth was already curling into a contented smile. She whispered the word "Erik.." testing the way it rolls of her tongue with glee.

*****

Days bled into weeks and weeks seeped into months. It had become a routine for Desiree to prepare meals for him, go to the market and listen to him struggle to work out the last notes to Don Juan Triumphant. She was always there to encourage him to continue his work, but it was progressing painfully slow. Sometimes, he would slam his hands on the keys with frustration, producing a cacophony of jumbled noises from the organ. But a headstrong Desiree would sat by him silently doing her chores, never betraying any emotion or attempting to calm him down until he calmed by himself and started to work again. They have worked out a mean for less confrontation and learned to share a companionable silence in the lair between the two.

Three days a week, Desiree would go up to the Opera house and help out the staff with the refurnishing and redecorating the auditorium. Since there were no foreseeable productions for months, Desiree found herself teaming up with both Clara and Meg to help Madam Giry around the Theatre with numerous chores. As her close friend was absent, Meg Giry seemed to take a liking to both Desiree and Clara. She was always the one to liven up a dull chore by her ceaseless chatting. As Clara was equally fond of conversing,the arrangement left only Desiree to smile along and nod with their conversation.

The uninterestingly simple routine in their life was crashed one day when Meg plunked one set of very urgent and stirring news to the Opera House. 

"Christine is coming back!!" Meg exclaimed and Clara smiled widely.

"Oh really, I am so excited, Meg. It is never the same without Christine. If we were to make new productions, I would rather it be her than that horrendous Carlotta as Prima Donna." Clara ranted on.

In contrast to the gleeful reactions from her two friends, ice filled Desiree's veins.

"Wha.. what did you say, Meg?" she heard her voice falter like a girl and Clara glared at her to signal that her cover is almost blown. However, Meg did not seem to notice as she babbled on about the latest letter from Christine, excited on the prospect of seeing her best friend again.

"She will be back in time for the Halloween masquerade dance where the final refurnishing will conclude and the Theatre will be open for a new Opera soon!!"

"I hoped that she would return. Although it is true that we haven't seen much of the Opera Ghost since she left, she sure was the kinder Prima Donna. I wouldn't mind being her dresser once more..." Clara chirped.  

If both girls were paying more attention, they would have noticed that the third party of that conversation as well as a noiseless shadow hiding near them had both became strangely quiet and apprehensive. However, they unknowingly carried on their conversation, oblivious to the others, about the return of one runaway and melodramatic former Prima Donna of the Opera Populaire...

*****

       

Author Note: Hi everyone, here is another chapter. Although I am sorry to be late as I promised a new chapter yesterday, I promise(tentatively) another new chapter on next Friday. I hope you will understand (gooey eyes).

And finally, Please comment, vote and share my story with others who might enjoy it too. It would mean a lot to me.

Yours,

Myat Noe