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Phoenix	By : LadyMeda Category: M through R > Phantom of the Opera Views: 4486 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any variation thereof. I do not make any money from this fiction. Tags include things that will be in future chapters.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
Thank you so much for the reviews! They are greatly appreciated!
Oh, and misspossessive? Prompt accepted. Stay tuned!
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“Hurry, child. We mustn't waste another minute.” Meg heard her mother call as she followed the woman onto an otherwise quiet stage. “At the rate we have been going, you will not have all of the dances choreographed before the new opera's opening night. You and I have yet to finish a single act, and that is unacceptable.”
As Madam Giry took her usual place near the orchestra pit, Meg could not help but smile down at her slippers. After last night's inspiring carnal rendezvous, she and Erik had diligently worked over the second act. It was completely finished, and Meg was very confident in the final product. Erik had an amazing ability to bring out her passion and personal sense of style. She suddenly wondered what it had been like all those years ago, when Erik had helped her mother train.
“Let us begin with no more delay!” Antoinette Giry ordered, lifting a readying hand towards the pianist and fixing her eyes towards Meg. “We were about halfway through-- What are you grinning at?! This is hardly a humorous matter!”
Meg's smirk widened. “Actually... I think I have this dance worked out.”
Her mother looked at her incredulously. “Don't be ridiculous.” She hissed. “Now take position! We have no more time to waste!”
“No, truly!” Meg insisted. “It came to me last night in a dream.”
Madam Giry let out an audible scoff. “More nonsense! And may I add that your confidence in such silliness is far from comforting.”
Undaunted, Meg lifted her chin and stood her ground. Her mother paused, clearly unconvinced.
“Well if you are so sure of yourself, then you should have no problem showing me!”
“None at all.” Meg said with a curtsy before moving to center stage. “I hope you do not mind, but I altered some of what we already created.”
For several moments the stern woman looked as though she might speak, but instead moved a hand to signal the pianist to begin. To Meg's surprise, the man glanced at her for approval. She answered it by striking her beginning pose.
Meg's eyes slid shut as the seductive melody began. She let the world drop away, and imagined that she was dancing for Erik's pleasure, and his alone. Without hesitation, her heart answered the call. It spoke of an overwhelming desire to enchant and entice his affections. Her feet began to move as if of their own accord.
As she simmered gracefully about the stage, the song's longing flowed and shifted through her body like light through a tinted pane of glass. The nuances of the writing rang true with every movement, and yet intertwined with the very essence of who she was.
When the final notes of its climax sounded, Meg took to the air in a double pirouette that exploded into a grand jeté; all before her feet met the ground again. Such a stunt had never been tried, and its perfect execution sent a nearly electric thrill coursing through her limbs.
Meg landed in a proud and unapologetic pose as Carmen's song relented into silence. When her eyes opened to look around the room, the tension in the space was palpable. Madam Giry stared at her, mouth agape. Meg could not help but blush.
“Do you find my choreography acceptable?” Meg asked as she stood winded. Her mother continued to stare in bewilderment before ushering the pianist to leave. The man gawked at the two women for a moment, then stumbled to his feet and shuffled out of the auditorium.
“That was... incredible.” The Madam breathed. “And it came to you in a dream?”
“Yes.” Meg answered. “I fell asleep reading the script, and it all sort of... flowed together.”
“I can hardly believe it.” Her mother exhaled. “Remarkable. Simply remarkable.” A rare smirk crept across her lips. “If that is all it takes, I have half a mind to slip a sedative in your morning porridge!”
“Are you really so surprised?” Meg asked with a wry grin. “I am the daughter of a prima ballerina after all.”
A hint of rose graced her mother's cheeks as she let out a lighthearted chuckle. “Yes, but I had--”
She stopped suddenly, eyes glassing over as if lost in a distant memory. Her smile faded. “I had... help.” The last word tumbled out in a whisper as every ounce of color drained from the woman's face.
A thousand shards of glass coursed into Meg's limbs as she realized with horror that her secret had been discovered. Her eyes locked with her mother's, almost unseeing as they shared a juxtaposing moment of epiphany.
In less than an instant, Madam Giry was on the move; transformed into a whirl of black cloth. She darted offstage with startling agility, disappearing behind the giant theater curtain.
Meg's breath caught in her throat. She knew precisely where her mother was headed. Hastily making chase, she flew behind the curtain; but Antoinette was no where to be found. Her mother was privy to a good deal of Erik's secret passages, and Meg knew of only two. Throwing curses to the wind, she ran for the one in her room.
It felt like a lifetime before her feet found the damp stone of the tunnel. She sprinted towards Erik's home as swiftly as her tired legs would carry her. Meg prayed that either she would reach him first or that he had closed off the false rock face; but he rarely did so these days. Thankfully, he'd agreed to take down the noose-trap that had nearly killed her on their first meeting. Being hanged would not put her mother in a better mood.
Meg rounded the last bend and was met with a dismaying sight. The light of a candelabra sliced through the darkness, forging a direct path towards the open rock wall. Her lungs burned with exertion as she bolted forward to close the final gap.
“Back so soon?” She heard Erik say from inside. “You are truly insatiabl-Antoinette.”
Meg ran into the music room at last, wheezing for breath. Erik gradually rose from his piano bench, stealing a glance at her before looking back to her mother. Madam Giry stormed forward until she stood glaring up at him.
A thundering smack reverberated through the room, followed by a crash as she slapped him hard enough to send his mask shattering to the floor.
Erik's lips pulled back in a snarl as he slowly recoiled. “Those aren't exactly cheap!” He spat.
Madam Giry began to shout. “Strike me down! Hang me! Kill me if you must! I don't care! But stay away from my daughter!”
Meg ran between them and grabbed her mother's arm. “Maman, no! You do not understand!”
Madam Giry shot a glare at her child; eyes burning like pools of liquid fire.
To Meg's relief, Erik was quick to regain his composure. A hand worked to smooth his tousled hair as he lifted his chin high. She was surprised to see he made no attempt to hide his face. “It is good to see you too, Antoinette.”
In an instant, Madam Giry rounded on Erik once again. “I did not procure you safe passage overseas four years ago so that you could return and make the same mistakes! And this time you choose my daughter to manipulate?!” Her body shook with rage. “You WILL stay away! If you ever come near her again, I will have you arrested!”
Without another word, Madam Giry seized Meg's arm and began to drag her out of the room. Meg tore from her grasp and ran to stand beside Erik.
“Mother, please listen! I am the one who sought him out. Not vice-versa.”
Her mother turned to look at her with disbelief. “What? Why would you do that?”
Meg wracked her brain for the best way to explain. “It was an accident, really.” She stammered before issuing a dismissive wave of her hand. “But the details are unimportant, and I can tell you about them later. The point is that I owe my success to him, along with my well-being. It was Erik who saved me from Martine. And he has never been anything but kind, loving, supportive and generous.”
Madam Giry took a tentative step towards them, her voice falling to a whisper as if Erik would not be able to hear. “He is a dangerous man, cheri. You know from experience that if you try and leave, all his kind support will vanish, and you will see nothing but rage.”
For a moment Meg considered lying about the extent of their relationship, but quickly thought better of it. Instead, she looked up at Erik with a warm smile and took his hand in hers. “I have no intentions of leaving, because ... I... I...” Meg hesitated. The words were somehow much harder to say under the scrutinizing eyes of her mother. Erik seemed to sense her discomfort, and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. That secret show of affection provided Meg the courage to continue.
“Because I love him.”
For a second time that day, Madam Giry stood staring at Meg with her mouth agape. “How... you can't possibly... he...”
“I can and I do.” Meg cut in. “If you would only give him a chance, you will see that he has changed.”
As the older woman slowly recomposed herself, she looked skeptically to Erik. “And what of you?”
Erik ran gentle fingers over Meg's hair before pulling away to address her mother. “Please believe me when I say that the man who stands before you now, is a far different person than the one who left four years ago. That is almost entirely due to the love I feel for your daughter.” He glanced back to look at Meg, before returning his gaze to Madam Giry. “Her happiness is more valuable to me than anything in the world. I would end my life if I knew it would make her smile.”
As Erik's words sank in, it took every ounce of self restraint for Meg not to step forward and wrap her hands around his waist. She resisted, watching as for several long, unsure moments Antoinette seemed to search his eyes with determined scrutiny.
Finally her mother let out a hefty sigh. She tightened her lips and poked a sturdy finger into his sternum. “If you so much as rub her feet too hard, I swear by the heavens that somehow I will make you pay. Dearly.”
Erik took the hand that had struck him into his own. “Then as a show of truce, I will provide you with the metaphorical dagger that would best pierce my heart.” He said quietly. “All you need do is deny me her love.”
Madam Giry looked speechless. As Meg finally gave in to her desires and moved to tuck herself within Erik's grasp, her mother's exacting gaze flitted between them.
“Fine.” She finally said with a curt nod. “Then perhaps I should leave you two alone.”
When Erik interjected, surprise was evident on her mother's face. “No. I think you two should go together. Odds are you have a great deal of catching up to do, and the last thing I want is to come between you.”
Meg glanced up at him worriedly, fearing that he might be upset. He offered her a comforting smile and a kiss to the forehead before pushing her gently towards her mother. Antoinette opened her mouth, shut it again, then intertwined her arm with Meg's. After one final look at Erik, she led Meg away.
“He really has changed, hasn't he?” Madam Giry whispered once they had walked far enough towards the surface to be out of earshot. “In days past, if my palm had ever managed to reach his cheek, I would have been dead before his mask hit the ground.”
“Yes.” Meg answered with a grin; all too happy to break down the barricade of secrets separating them. “Yes he has.”

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~Lady Meda
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Phoenix