Chels here. . . in this chap, Erik gets a bit long winded, so for those of you who are quite familiar with Kay Erik's history, it may be a bit boring. Hope it doesn't irk too much, though :)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chapter Twenty-Two

After Christine finished her meal, she got up from the table and scooped Brigitte up for her highchair to put her to bed. "Say goodnight to Papa, Brigitte," Christine said.

"Goodnight, Papa!" Brigitte exclaimed, waving to him.

"Goodnight, mon petite ange," he replied, blowing her a kiss.

Brigitte giggled and blew him one back as Christine carried her out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

He leaned back in his chair once the women had gone, mentally preparing himself for the conversation he knew was coming. He hoped she had forgotten about it, but he doubted she had.

After Christine had finally gotten Brigitte to go to sleep (she had been rather fussy about going down that evening) she went into the bedroom she and Erik shared to ready herself for bed. She changing into her nightgown and pulling on her robe and walked down to the kitchen, where she suspected Erik to be.

He watched her silently, waiting for her to initiate the conversation.

She sat down in the chair across from him. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to..."

"No, I will," he said solemnly.

He began. "I was born in Bosherville, in i forget the year, don't kill me; my mother's name was Madeline... My father, Charles, though he died before I was born. My mother reminded be often that that was a blessing for him, as they had each expected a child as perfect and beautiful as them... My father, and grandfather, were architects; my mother was training to be a singer, but her training ceased when she met my father... She hated me, she told me so... I know she wished that I was dead, that I never was born, or I would die, so she could go on living her life in peace." He paused a moment, unable to meet Christine's eyes.

Christine said nothing... She could not imagine a mother hating their child; she could not fathom what Erik had gone through as a boy. She reached across the table, her hand finding his.

"In place of my mother's love, I received training and guidance from Father Mansart, the priest of the church my mother belonged to. She never let me attend, although I wanted to, I wanted to hear the sung mass... But still, the old priest, whom I was named after as well, by the way, came to our house quite often to give me singing lessons, and religious tutelage. How I hated that house... But she never let me leave it. Besides the priest, my mother's friend, Marie Perrult, showed me the great kindness which my mother lacked... Then there was my tutor, in architecture... I looked up to him with great admiration... He treated me like an equal. And finally, there was... Sasha, my mother's dog.

"I dare say that dog loved me more than my mother did. As a baby, a toddler, when my mother would leave me alone in my room, Sasha would come in, lick away my tears, and let me kiss her... You would not think I would remember such a thing, but I do." He paused once more.

She squeezed his hand, but did not say anything, as to not interrupt his the story of his past that she knew was so hard to tell.

"Then, there was my mask. I never understood why I had to wear it, when no one else did. On my 8th birthday, I asked my mother for a gift, the only one I'd received before from her being my mask. I asked her for two kisses; one for right then, and one to save for later... She refused, she began to cry, protesting. I did not understand why that simple act of affection was so difficult for her to pass to me. I ran to my attic bedroom, staying there until my mother called me down, saying that Marie had arrived. I went downstairs, without my mask on. The two women were shocked, my mother being the first to recover, countering with harsh cruelty as always. I inquired as to why I had to wear a mask... She lost it then, she dragged me upstairs, showed me my face in the mirror. I did not understand; I threw myself at the mirror, believing it was a monster, coming to frighten me. When I woke, Marie was at my bedside, tending to my wounds. Never my mother...

"Several more horrific events followed; I was exorcised by Father Mansart, he and my mother believing me to be possessed by a demon... My mother met a man, who wanted to send me to an asylum, and take her away to Paris and marry her. I began to control her, in ways that I do not even remember... But it did work. After some time, she never went to see the doctor again. Until... One night, an angry mob appeared at our house... I had let Sasha out, and wanted to let her back in, to keep her safe... But the crowd saw me, and started to shout ugly things at me, throwing stones. I shouted back, unable to just stand there and take it. A mistake on my part. Somehow, in the midst of it all, Sasha was killed, her neck broken, and I was stabbed in the side. I ran back into the house, after the mob left, telling my mother to leave me be, that I needed to have a funeral for Sasha. She resisted at first, but finally gave in; I buried her in the yard, and sang my requiem for her.

"That was when the doctor arrived... He tended to my knife wound, not attempted to disguise his vulgar curiosity about me while he did so, however. When they believed me to be asleep, he spoke to my mother, telling her to send me to an asylum once more, telling her they could run off together that very night... They then left the room, and I assumed they were making the arrangements. I got up off the couch, and left. I would not make her suffer on my behalf any longer."

He stopped in his tale once more. "Do you wish to hear more?"

She blinked back the tears in her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat, wanting to be strong for him. "Only if you wish me to know more..."

"I wandered in the woods for the night, and finally fell asleep... When I woke, I found myself in the hands of gypsies... In a matter of days, they had found a cage for me, I was their main attraction. Families would pay just to lay eyes on my hideous face... My "master", Javert... He beat me daily, for not allowing the crowd to see my face, or for not sufficiently entertaining them, or sometimes for no reason at all. Eventually, I persuaded him to allow me to sing at the end of the show... His natural greed made him agree. Slowly, I gained power... Power, and to some extent, respect. Mothers would threaten to send their children to me if they were naughty, even though I was the same age as most of them...

"The camp moved around the continent, until one night we found ourselves in Spain. I contemplated killing myself that night... I ran far from the camp, with a vial of fatal poison in my hand. I was about to drink it, when I noticed a girl, who had followed. On closer examination, I found that her ankle was broken. Once she regained consciousness, we conversed a moment, before I offered to help her up. She quailed from me, screaming... I did not understand how she could treat me as an equal one moment and as a monster the next. I returned to the camp, to my tent. A moment later, Javert... joined me... He spoke of sexual things... and began to unbuckle his belt, and touch me. It was then I understood all the things he'd been hinting at since I arrived... But I did not let him have me... I killed him with his own dagger, burying it to the hilt into his neck... I gathered a few possessions, and left the camp."

Christine's words from their walk home that afternoon came crashing back to her. You don't understand... You can't even imagine what it's like... How much it hurt me... And yet, he could. The same thing had happened to him... Only his situation had been much worse than hers. She felt so ashamed. "Oh, Erik... I'm so sorry about what I said earlier..." she whispered. He continued on, afraid that if he stopped now, he would never be able to finished.

"After a few years of wandering, I found myself in Rome. I believe I was about 13 years old. I was exploring the legendary city, when I ran into a man... Giovanni... He was about 50, perhaps older, perhaps younger... He was a master stone mason; we talked of architecture until the other workers arrived... I told him I must go, but he made me promise to return the next morning. Eventually, he learned that I had no home, and convinced me to stay with him in his home... I became his apprentice, learning how to work the stone... and build. I lived in his spacious cellar, him allowing me to have it anyway I wanted... He respected my privacy, as well, never going down there... I always felt safe, knowing that he dwelled above me.

"We lived in a peaceful relationship... until Luciana. His beautiful daughter. It was so awkward... I suppose I developed a school boy's crush on her, she one on me as well. Giovanni knew, I suppose. He would not have overlooked it. I was indifferent to her... One day, she invaded my privacy, beginning to touch my creations. I told her to leave... She did not until Giovanni ordered her to...

"A few nights after that, the inevitable happened. She confronted me on the balcony, where I was working on repairing Giovanni's bench... She told me to take my mask off... I refused, until Giovanni arrived, and sided with her... I could not believe how he was betraying me, but I listened. I pulled the mask savagely from my face, my rage toward Luciana growing. I advanced on her... She became frightened; frantically she ran from me... She fell from the edge of the balcony... Giovanni and I had been speaking about how, once I finished the bench, I should work on repairing that... We both knew she was dead. I fled, unsure of how to deal with the emotions I was feeling. So I just ran from them...

"During my young adulthood, I worked in Russia, giving singing performances, without my mask... The performances were different than those with the gypsies, but nonetheless humiliating. Then, one day, the daroga, Nadir, came, telling me that the shah had requested my presence in the royal court of Persia. I decided to join him, not wishing to stay in Russia any longer.

"Before going to the shah, we stopped at Nadir's home, where his son, Reza, was waiting to see the "greatest magician in the world". I showed him a trick that I promised was for him alone, that not even the shah would see... Reza's health was failing... He could no longer walk, and his sense of sight was going, as well...

"The next day, we arrived at the royal court... You cannot imagine such a place... So grand, yet so ugly... Teaming with cats, everywhere cats... The shah requested me to entertain the princess, his mother... the real power behind the throne. A more puzzling woman you would never meet... She asked me such odd questions... she asked if I had ever had a woman, if I wanted one... 'I can arranged for you to have one quite easily,' she told me. I refused, too confused was I to fully comprehend her... She asked me to kill for her... saying she wished for amusing deaths. I built the torture chamber then, which seemed to satisfy her...

"All the while, Nadir and I were forming a friendship, but his little boy was dying... I suppose I loved Reza, like a little nephew... But I could not help but feel guilty, as he would always ask where I was over the daroga himself... One day he said he wanted to leave his father, and live with me...

"In the court, however, I was hated... But I did not care. I had begun production on a palace of my own, so disgusted was I with the current Persian architecture... But, after I put on a performance with strong political undertones, my wine was poisoned, with ground glass... Nadir and I thought I would die within a week... I instantly became worried that I would never finish building... But somehow, I survived... At the same time, Reza's condition was unmistakable. He was dying... I told the daroga that... death came in many shades... that Reza could die in a most painful way, or peacefully in his sleep... Nadir allowed me to give him a solution that allowed him to die in his sleep...

"Even with his son ending life peacefully, Nadir had little else to live for... Perhaps that is why he assisted me in leaving Persia... People can fall out of favor quite quickly in Persia, you see, with little reason or notice... The daroga and some eunuchs arrived at my rooms one night... Obviously Nadir and my friendship was not known of to the shah... In any case, Nadir pretended to arrest me, while really he told me what to do to escape safely... And that I did, with all my possessions, as well...

"After we said goodbye, I wandered Europe a few years, returning to my hometown only to find that my mother had died 3 days earlier...

"Finally, I found the Opera Ganier... I became a partner of Charles Ganier, and one of the architects on the opera house itself. It was I who discovered the subterranean lake which I secretly built my house upon...

"When the siege came, I simply could not take anymore... I fled underground... A few years later, the opera house was finished. And you came into my life... I believe you know the rest, dear."

Christine was silent for a few moments. "Thank you... for sharing that with me... I know it was very difficult for you..." she said quietly, still trying to take in all of his words.

"You are welcome. I suppose we should get to bed..."

"Yes, I suppose we should," she said, letting go of his hand and rising from the table; the two of them made their way upstairs. She looked in on Brigitte, who was sound asleep in her crib, before continuing into the bedroom with Erik, and climbing into bed.

He changed slowly into his nightclothes, suddenly feeling exhausted. He slid into the bed and snuffed out the candle which sat on the night stand.

In the darkness, a tear slid down his cheek, though he wasn't entirely sure why... He felt relieved, somewhat, at sharing everything with someone else, but at the same time, melancholy.

"Erik," Christine whispered, searching for his hand in the darkness. He turned away from her, embarrassed.

"Erik," she whispered again, "I love you."

"Thank you," he replied quietly.

Christine lay there speechless. She knew she deserved it though. She turned away from him, saying nothing.

He struggled to stop his foolish tears, taking deeper breaths, until they ceased. He shut his eyes. "Goodnight..."

She said nothing, hoping he would think she was already asleep.

He knew that she could not be asleep already, but he decided not to press her... He did not have the energy to anyway. Relatively quickly, he fell asleep.