| ~ A Twist of Fate ~ by Laura D. (c)2001 "Listen, my wary one, it is too late to unlove each other." - William Matthews |
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| To the untrained eye, the pair of lovers walking down the Rue Scribe in the rose-colored dawn seemed appropriate to the romantic setting of Paris. They clung to each other in the misty morn, and their soft laughter echoed down the street. They had eyes only for each other, and they embraced and kissed with passionate abandon. They might have seemed like an ordinary pair of lovers, reveling in their clandestine meeting, but the man observing them knew otherwise. Nadir had once been a "daroga," the chief of police in the Persian province of Mazanderon, and his hawk-like eyes never missed a detail. He knew that the man and woman before him were far from the average couple. The lady in question was Christine Daae, the angelic soprano from the Paris Opera House. She was wrapped in a light blue traveling cloak, but Nadir could see her smile radiantly up at her companion, her luminous face framed by a halo of chestnut curls. Her lover was a complete contrast to her delicate form. He appeared to be made from the shadows themselves. His black cloak nearly engulfed Christine as he swept her into his arms, and when he bent down to claim her kiss, his fedora hat hid both of their faces from view. It was only when he pulled back to gaze at his beloved that Nadir could see the white mask that covered his face. “Erik,” Nadir gasped. “The Phantom of the Opera.” The Daroga unconsciously pulled back into the shadows and wrapped a protective hand around his throat. Though he and Erik had once been friends, their recent past was mired with misfortune, and Nadir knew that to catch the Phantom unawares might spell trouble for everyone. Only hours ago, Nadir had betrayed Erik by joining forces with Raoul de Chagny, Christine's acknowledged lover. The two men had journeyed down into Erik's lair below the Paris Opera House in a mad attempt to save Christine from the Phantom. But Erik was too clever for them all, and he had trapped Nadir and Raoul in a torture chamber. Nadir had pleaded with Erik, begging for some compassionate sanity, but the Phantom was hard-pressed to win Christine's love, and he was not above taking hostages to do it. But then something miraculous happened, something the Daroga (due to his confines in the torture chamber) had not been able see. The Phantom turned off the ghastly torture chamber and released them all. He had even placed Christine's hand into Raoul's, and congratulated them on their nuptials. Then he bid the young couple good-bye, hurried Nadir off into a cab, and returned alone to the depths of his black labyrinth. Or had he? As Nadir watched Erik and Christine embrace again, he had to wonder what had happened in the few hours since his hasty departure from the Opera Ghost’s lair. He had flown home to his flat upon his release, and immediately downed a stiff brandy to calm his shattered nerves. Then he paced the floor, nearly wearing a hole in his carpet, as he tried to decide what to do about Erik. Should he hand him over to the police? No, he decided at last. Erik had suffered long enough. He deserved to be left in peace. But Nadir could not do that. He remembered hearing his friend’s moan at Christine’s departure, and it haunted him. To live alone, without love, was perhaps the greatest crime of all. So the Persian hurried back to the Opera House, a decanter of brandy tucked under his cloak, and good intentions in his heart. He was so intent on his friend's melancholy that he was ill-prepared for the vision of Christine nestled comfortably in the Phantom’s embrace. Nadir stopped dead in his tracks and gaped in surprise. He had to shake himself to make sure he was not dreaming. Indeed, it was Erik and Christine that he saw before him. Not wishing to intrude on the lovers’ tender moment, the Daroga slipped into the shadows to observe the pair further. “I will meet you tomorrow night,” Christine was saying. “You promise?” the Phantom asked, caressing her cheek with a gloved hand. “Oh, Erik!” she sighed, but her smile was that of a coquette. “Do you doubt me still?” The Phantom glanced towards the rising sun, and Nadir pulled further back into the shadows. “I am uncertain of so many things,” he confessed. “I have never been so happy in my life, and I am afraid that my dreams will turn to dust in the morning light.” “Mon ange,” Christine murmured. “You have nothing to fear. I am here to walk with you through the night and into the daylight.” “You would really wish to be seen with me?” Erik asked in amazement. “Of course!” the diva said, her voice full of love. “I want to be with you always.” Nadir marveled at her words, for he had once heard Christine speak of Erik with only fear in her voice, fear of his ghastly face. But now she seemed to be made of stronger stuff, and Nadir could not comprehend the sudden change in her demeanor. Erik, however, was completely enchanted and did not hesitate to believe his beloved’s words. “Tomorrow night,” he said with growing confidence. “I will come for you tomorrow night.” “I shall be waiting, my prince,” she said, and she kissed him good-bye. Then Christine reluctantly left her lover’s embrace, and nearly floated down the street, heading in the direction of her flat. Erik mirrored her jubilant state, love beaming from every particle of him. It was then that Nadir chose to make his appearance. “Daroga,” the Phantom said, giving his friend a formal bow. If he was surprised to see the Persian, he did not show it. “Erik,” Nadir returned, walking briskly towards his friend. “What has happened here?” “She loves me,” the Opera Ghost said dreamily. “I am the happiest man alive!” Nadir shook his head in confusion. “I have seen much happen this night, but I cannot believe what I have just seen!” “What do you mean?” the Phantom asked, suddenly growing cold with suspicion. Nadir halted his footsteps and tried to remember whom he was dealing with. For all of his power, Erik was as emotionally unstable as a child, and Nadir did not want to upset him. But the Phantom assumed that Nadir's silence meant something far more judgemental, and he drew his cloak about himself in a protective yet threatening manner. “You mean you cannot believe that an angel is capable of loving me?” Erik whispered icily. “A monster who is best kept locked away in the cellars of the Opera House!?!” “No, no, no,” Nadir apologized. “But I am perplexed. Earlier this evening, did you not release Christine and her intended fiancé, Raoul, the Vicomte de Chagny?” “I did,” Erik answered steadily. “Then….what possessed Mlle. Daae to return?” “I don’t know,” Erik replied, his voice once again filled with awe. “Just when I thought my life was over, she came back to me...” “How can that be?” the Daroga queried. “Or was this the payment she promised you in return for my life and the Vicomte’s?” “You miserable cur,” the Phantom growled. “Do you really think me capable of such wickedness?” Nadir wisely chose to hold his tongue, and the Phantom released a defeated sigh, hanging his head with shame. “True, I was ready to force her hand,” Erik confessed. “I would have done anything to make Christine stay with me forever. But then she kissed me, Nadir, and for the first time in my life, I was free from the confines of this wretched face and all of the hell that has come with it. For a moment, I tasted Heaven. And I knew... I could not keep any of you prisoner – least of all Christine! I released her and the boy; then I returned home to die. But she came back, Nadir! She came back to me with words of love on her lips!” “But what of the Vicomte de Chagny?” the Daroga persisted. “I don’t know where he is, and I don’t care,” Erik replied. “What does he matter to me when Christine has consented to be my wife?” Nadir looked at the Phantom in shock, but Erik stood proud and tall, almost daring the Daroga to refute his claim. The Persian sighed heavily and wiped a hand across his brow. Could Erik’s story really be true? Nadir could not doubt what he had seen that night, but neither could he shake from his mind a sense of foreboding that something was not right. What had happened to Raoul de Chagny? And what had made Christine return to her disfigured music teacher? Was it possible that the fickle Miss Daae was toying with his friend? “Erik….” Nadir began. “I know what you think, Daroga, but I will not let you sour this moment,” the Phantom said. “I have waited for it my entire life. Do you know what that is like, to wait an eternity for love’s embrace?” “I do,” Nadir relented. “Then do not come to me with these sad looks and despairing attitude! I have too much to do! Bags to pack, a carriage to arrange for all of our trunks, and gifts to buy for my beautiful bride!” The Phantom turned to enter his lair, his black cloak swirling about him. He reached out to touch a secret panel in the wall, but he hesitated to look back at his old friend. Nadir seemed to be rooted to the spot, and he looked completely perplexed. The Phantom sighed. “If you wish to accompany us on our journey to the chapel,” he offered with quiet nonchalance, “you may.” Nadir was torn; he longed to tell Erik of his premonition, but he was unable to find a way to voice such concern. “Or if you’d rather hang about like a morose shadow,” the Phantom said tersely, “then I shall have to bid you adieu!” “No! Wait!” Nadir cried suddenly. The Phantom turned to regard him, his strange eyes glittering in the beauty of the dawn. Nadir was momentarily dazzled by the rosy glow that played about the Phantom, and he took a step towards him. He knew that Erik was looking to him for some hope, for some sign of encouragement, and he knew he could not deny him that. “I would consider it an honor to attend you on your wedding day,” Nadir said softly. And he extended his hand to shake the Phantom's in congratulations. ~ Chapter 2 ~ |