Chapter Text
~Beneath Opera Populaire…~
The dark figure watched from the shadows of the underground maze of the opera house as the young man made his way into the cave. The figure blended in perfectly with the shadows as if it were a shadow itself. It wore mostly black with dark forest green cloth accents. It helped the figure blend into shadows as if it weren't even there, never giving anyone suspect that it was there, regarding them.
As the figure watched, it observed the man, who was dressed impeccably under a black cloak and rages. The man walked over to the organ, which stood there in charred shambles, and silently, slowly, looked on it in sadness before he picked up the envelope that was sitting on the still intact organ bench. The man turned and the figure nodded silently to itself, satisfied that the man was indeed Eric Durand due to pure white mask that adored the right side of his face. His amber eyes were looking suspiciously at the envelope in his hands, his name elegantly written on the envelope's front.
The figure regarded Erik as he opened up the envelope and read the contents of the letter. Erik's eyes went wide with surprise as he read the letter, and then his face twisted in shock. He then sneered in anger before he growled and turned and fled the cave as if the devil were on his heels. Erik cursed and ran from the cavern to go find his Persian friend, Omar. And to find the Girys for advice.
Waiting to make sure that Erik was truly gone, the figure came out of the shadows when he heard and felt the vibration at his hip. He slowly stepped into the cave's nature light and up to the ruined organ that Erik was so recently at. The black shrouded man placed another letter and a picture of Christine sitting inside a room, shackled to the bed behind her with ropes and chains. The figure sighed and soon disappeared the way it came from. The only thing that gave away his presence if one looked hard enough were his eyes that glowed a faint eerily blue.
~Above in the city of Paris…~
Erik slowly walked into his ruined lair beneath the opera house. He had been living in a second, successful life in Norway as a Norwegian Duke for the last two years since the events here in his lair beneath the Opera house. When Christine had left with Raoul… That boy… Two years prior, he had resigned himself to loving Christine from afar and wished her a good life with Raoul even if she didn't return his feelings.
Conspiring with Madame Giry and his friend Omar Dessan, the Persian, he had hesitantly agreed to leave for Norway and to change his name to Richard Rue to prevent the French law from following him. Madame Giry was successful with Omar's connections and her own to people in registering him under his new name. Omar also was able to sell some of the smaller jewels and gold jewelry to keep from being tracked, setting him up quite nicely as a Duke for life. Once he got to Norway two years ago.
He traveled to the Norwegian countryside and found a house, rather a mansion, which had sat abandoned due to the previous residents' deaths to the plague of the flu a few weeks prior to his arrival. After several days of working with the local banks and governing body, he officially purchased the mansion and restored it to its former glory. He had taken several days to hire a staff to keep it maintained, despite him not use to being in a position of authority and being their boss. The maids and menservants were mostly ones who he had determined by their good character and morally good nature, thus he had a trustworthy staff.
Many never questioned him on the reason why he had a mask when he had mentioned that it was to cover a birthmark that caused much uproar elsewhere. His servants respected him on his honesty and were genuine on their feelings for working with him. Never were they condemning nor were they judgmental, all knowing that he was ashamed about it. Only three of his servants who he had come to trust over the last two years had seen his face.
His butler, Geralt Simmons who had returned from war for Norway, found out one day when he was changing his masks. Geralt then proceeded to mention he had a similar birthmark on his arms and hands. He never further explained how he had become so well known to other with such an obvious mark on his arms and hands, but he had. To show that he didn't have an issue with his face, Geralt had show Erik his arms and hands. Erik surprised, relaxed and had reflected on it, understanding more and more each day that people had far more compassion if honesty, hard work, communication, and grace when given time. Geralt had become one of his closest confidants and friends beside Omar Dessan since arriving in Norway.
His stable hand Rashid, from Arabia, had seen his face when Erik had been thrown off a spooked horse. Only thing he said about his face is that it didn't and wouldn't change how he would see Erik. When pressed by Erik, Rashid explained his younger brother had a similar face defect at birth and had come to be one of the best fighters for the Arabian army because his face scared and discouraged his enemies, besides being the best fighter he had trained. His face and his fighting prowess had brought much honor to their family as it helped people to respect him more for overcoming and overlooking a birthmark that had once been considered a curse and now a blessing while in the army. Rashid had also become a good and loyal friend since he hired him.
Erik looked around his ruined lair and remembered the third and final person who saw his face in Norway, and his whole staff knew her and what she meant to himself.
~Flashback...~
Erik's cook and long lost mother, Frigga Masters, a women of 55 years old, and she had lost both of her sons, her older one to who knows where and her younger son two years prior to dysentery, was walking down the corridor to the kitchen. Ambling along quietly, she considered the past as she headed to the kitchen, having had forgotten to put away the clean dishes she done an hour earlier, and she didn't want the master to be annoyed. Though she doubted he would've cared much, for he was kind, quiet, and gracious. She arrived in the kitchen, only to freeze.
There looking through the wine cabinet was Master Erik, he had told her his real name, and his masked part of his face was obscured. Whatever she did to make noise, caught his attention and he turned to her, and she gasped, stunned knowing that birthmark instantly. Angered at her being here, Erik scowled at first yet looked at her stunned yet accepting face as she looked at him with recognition and then with sorrow. For several minutes they stared at each other in stunned, tense silence. Yet after a few minutes she shook of her stupor, and she came forward slowly, as if trying to soothe a cornered animals, even as he leaned back. He froze in shock as she gently took his face into her gentle, soothing hands and leaned up to kiss him right on his unmasked face in love.
After several moments of shock, he was came out of his stunned stupor, and he asked her, "Why do you so readily accept my face Frigga? This..." He gestured to his face, "This is why I hid my face."
She sat down as she looked to her hands, and suddenly he sensed a sorrow and loss coming from her. He awkwardly placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to him with tears in her eyes, "Because I had two sons that I lost, my older that would have been your exact age now, and my younger son died of dysentery two years ago. My older son was lost to me at birth, the gypsies of the troop I was in at the time of his birth said he was cursed because of a nasty birthmark on his face. I only ever did see it once when the midwife was trying to hid him from the other gypsies. And you are him Erik. You're my long lost son. You have the exact birthmark my eldest son had at birth." Tears streamed down her face, and tears threatened to give from his eyes. She gently fingered the markings on his hand that were hidden beneath his glove.
He was stunned, his legs giving out from underneath him as he knelt in front of her. She took his right hand in hers and placed her other hand gently on his marred cheek, "You were the child I lost, Erik. When I gave birth to you, I was part of a travel performing gypsies at the time. The local midwife in the town we were visiting was an old friend, and when I delivered you, she cried, knowing I was in for a tough future with you. I was so weak when I finally did and I could barely move my head. She mentioned the birthmark, but I didn't care. What I saw of it, I still loved you because you were my son. My precious baby boy. I thought you died years after they took you away from me. I do know she had given you four small tattoos though on your hand, three stars with an arrow pointing to said stars."
Erik gasped, wondering where those four tattoos came from. Both he and his mother looked down at said tattoos as he took off his glove. Yes, three stars and an arrow pointing at the stars. He looked up at her, hopeful as she continued, her hands still holding his left hand and his cheek, "When I saw them the other day, I had to do a double take, thinking I had seeing things. But now that I've seen your face and the tattoos Erik, I know it to be true. You are my son. And I looked for you for years until recently, thinking that if you survived, you'd find me. But I never heard from you nor did my midwife friend hear anything about your whereabouts. I am so sorry, Erik. Can you forgive me, your mother, for failing you when you needed me most?"
Erik, uncaring that his tears fell down his cheeks, nodded, somehow knowing what she said was truth. It was overwhelming... Yet it made him feel light... Happy... As hard as it was to admit, it was cathartic, his soul felt much more at peace, his mother loved him, even though they had just found each other, the tattoos clearly establishing she was his mother. For endless minutes, his heart and mind warred, between remaining angry at her and forgiving her. Now knowing that he hadn't been hated by his mother, rather he was deeply loved by her, knowing she wanted him as her son regardless of his face, he reached for the latter. In a moment of rare impulsiveness and truth, he nodded, whispering, "As hard as it is, and as shocking as it is, I admit, that what you say is truth. How else could you have known and accepted me on the spot like this? I forgive you... Mother."
Frigga smiled so wide and thrilled to the moon, overjoyed, pulled him into a hug. Awkward and unused to physical interaction still, Erik stiffly hugged her back with tense muscles. She felt it and shushed him, gently patting him on the back and stroking his hair. He slowly relaxed to her ministrations and was completely trusting her to the hug. For the first time since Christine, he felt loved and contented, as if he found home. What made him trust her fully from then on was when she whispered in his ear, rocking him back and forth as she cried tears of joy, "I love you, my son. My boy... My beautiful baby boy..."
*End Flashback...*
Erik smiled at the memory of his mother and him meeting again. He had fully made the staff aware of the situation a few weeks after that event because he wanted to tract down the midwife and the doctor to confirm his birth and his identity. Once satisfied, he announced it to the staff and the local town's constable and governor. All were surprised, but impressed that the foreigner was revealed to be an actual natural Norwegian returning from being told he was French his whole life. After seeing the documentation, testimonies from the eye witness accounts from the midwife and doctor and Frigga, and the evidence of the tattoos, Erik was fully made into a Norwegian citizen under his name Richard Ruee. And all of his servants up to this point had come to respect him and many of them had become good friends surprisingly. Thus, the staff were protective and loyal to him.
Surprisingly, the staff were shocked and honored when he mentioned he trusted them to see his face under his mask. Upon seeing his face, all addressed him with the upmost respect and acceptance, having been impressed with his history, honesty, and hard work. No one questioned him afterwards, and all decided to accept him as master and friend. After this, all of them further involved him in their lives, inviting him to family events and the nobility even started to send him invites to balls and parties. Further, Erik decided to start hosting simple dinners at his estate to learn about his neighboring nobility. Many were thrilled and further accepted him. Several times he was invited to the royal palace by the Norwegian royals to court, and in return, he hosted them for a week at his estates, thus the birth of an unlikely friendship.
Although he had found a peaceful, quiet, and morally good life, he had a rather hectic schedule after a few months of quietly establishing his new life as Richard Rue. His butler, Geralt, had discovered by accident his blueprints on architect and, having an in-depth knowledge of architect himself from his own father and grandfather, he had come to him in private and convinced Erik to go into the architect business in Norway. His blueprints, once he had gone to a local builder for reconstructing the mansion's east wing into better spacing, rooms, housing, storage, and repurposing several rooms, demand for his architectural skills exploded, from what the builders had told others from what he had seen from Erik's handiwork.
Before that had happened, Erik had made sure to learn Norwegian and once his architect business hit off in Norway, he had been able to meet demands rather quickly. The Norwegians were quick and skilled workers, following orders and understanding his plans, even after only one explanation. Even the king of Norway had asked for a new wing to his palace and had rewarded him with much more property around his already large property. Erik now owned over 2500 acres of land around his mansion and had several people under his command. He even earned the title of Duke.
Fortunately, many respected him and he left them alone to go on with life, managing the people and the land as Duke Ruee. Only once in a while he would have issues with craftily evil men, and he dealt with them and placed in morally upright men before going back into the background. Besides all that he and his skills with music, singing, and playing instruments had been discovered by his head house maid, and his mother Frigga informed him later on that his operas and music were adored by the staff.
He had learned five months after his arrival in Norway, that his mother and staff had discovered his music and operas while he was composing in the music room. His mother Frigga the head cook, and Andromeda his head house maid had eavesdropped on him several times, as had several others without his knowledge over the course of those months before they had made an intervention to convince him to publish his music and operas. After several months just like his architecture, his music and operas were soon highly sought after in Norway, and he became very well known and loved by the Norwegians as a musical and architectural genius, garnering him a vast fortune and a great reputation amongst the whole of Norway.
Having two successful businesses, Erik had gained a great business reputation, and he was known throughout the local area as a morally and wise man. After Christine hadn't given up on him and his good side, he came out a changed man. He made promises in Christine's name never to return to blackmail and murder, only if it were completely and absolutely necessary to that bold, evil, end. He had learned much from his mother as well on how to act proper, thanks to her scoldings after he admitted to her all that he had done at the Opera Populaire in Paris.
He and his mother were set for life, and his mother had become a steadfast matriarch not only to him, but to the staff and surrounding townsfolk. She accepted and loved people from all walks of life and cultures. Having loved on him exactly like the dotting mother to him, Frigga had brought out a side of him he never thought possible. Confidence in himself and his self-image. And in no time, Erik and Frigga had grown close. She worked with the local church and founded her own business as a midwife and doctor herself after Erik had been kidnapped from her without a changeling to love. She did her best to care for the people both physically and spiritual as a doctor and as a retired nun. She had taken times to correct some of his behaviors slowly over the last two years since they rediscovered each other.
Erik smiled, a soft sigh coming from his lips as he thought. Two years, well spent, though having spent away from Christine, it felt like a life time. Oh Christine… I love you… I would slave for your happiness, if only from afar… To the end of days if I could… But afar I shall stay. Erik mourned for her as he stepped lightly and silently. He was thinking of her and her angelic voice and smile as he slowly approached the ruined organ. It had lost the battle to the elements of the underground tunnels' and cave's cold temperatures and moisture without his in-genius system of venting and warming. Many other things of his lair lay in shambles due to the lack of use and upkeep while he was absent. He had touched on the events of Opera Populaire with his mother after they had gotten to know each other more, and after an ear-full scolding from her about his actions and his words, she had made sure he atoned for it all in her way, which was working his businesses well, while she was the master.
Sighing, he came back to the present as he stopped and gently touched the keys of the organ. Pressing down on several keys, Erik cringed and groaned at the sounds they made and stopped. It was beyond repair. He sighed and looked around knowing he couldn't stay and repair anything. He was a fugitive here in France, not that France was his home or did anything for him anyways. Only scorn, hate, and torture came from his… former home people. Now that he knew he was Norwegian, not French, made him let go of his past that much easier. He looked down and spied something white on the organ's bench… An envelope… That's odd… It's new and… has my names on it… Both my real name and my new Norwegian name…
The envelope, he noted, was new and one that was foreign in looks. What drew his flicker of dread and suspicion through him was that both his name Erik Durand and Richard Rue were on the envelope's clean, white face. The writing was clearly not from anyone he knew or any human he knew from his past in France or Persia.
He picked it up and was greeted to the smell of pine and rosemary, greatly piquing his curiosity on why. He opened the envelope and took out the letter addressed to him. It read:
Erik Durand, also known by the name and alias of Richard Rue,
I am writing to you to congratulate you on this new life you have been given and created in Norway. Now I know you want to keep a peaceful life without any connection to the underworld or acts of evil anymore, but I ask you to consider my proposal.
Your Christine is in dire need. I have been watching her and the Girys these past two years in your absence to make sure that they are safe and sound and have bright futures. The Girys, as you know, are in such a state, but Christine… I regret to informed you had some suspicious activity and behavior that are alarming to me. Her relationship with Raoul is not the best I noticed, if not downright toxic.
She seems to have withdrawn from the world. I have gotten to know her several years ago before the opera incident, without your knowledge. And in the time that I have known her, she has been a loving, caring, compassionate, sweet girl having grown into a woman. But now she is shy, scared, withdrawn, and quiet whenever there's a party or outing. Raoul always had her at his side at parties or he prevents her from leaving their mansion.
I have taken note that when I met with her last in our secret meetings that she has bruises on her arms and one on her neck. All evidence of beatings or whiplashes or torture sessions. And when she first married Raoul, a large, jagged scar appeared across her face, from her forehead to her left cheek, about three months after their marriage. Due to this she rarely leaves her home anymore if Raoul does approve her to leave with her maid in waiting.
I suggested to her strongly to go to the police, but she was too scared to do so because she worried that Raoul would give her a beating or end her life if he found out she had told someone. I advise you that we should meet at Parc Montreal to proceed with what to do about her situation. I do want to tell you though… She loves you, Erik. After several weeks married to Raoul, he started to beat her and call her horrible names. Her confidence is low and her images of herself are low as well. She will need time to heal if my plan to get her to safety works. She regrets not going with you that day in the opera house, but, unfortunately, it needed to happen. She has mentioned on several occasions that she wished you would come and save her from her situation.
Meet me at Parc Montreal at midnight of the new moon, which is one week from now. I have a plan in place, not only to save Christine from her situation, but to help Madame Antoinette Giry and her daughter Meg to safety as well. The plan includes having Christine's marriage to Raoul annulled and for her to travel to Norway with you. Omar is aware of the situation as is Phillip, Raoul's brother. I have everything in place and prepared. That is if you want to proceed with the plan and meet with me.
Monsieur Durand, be aware that there are other powers at play besides Raoul that are working. Christine's own maid, Kagome, was kidnapped from her homeland of Japan, which is from the Far East. She has powers that are not easily understood by you and other Europeans. Her husband Toga is sending his son Sesshomaru and a small crew of his from Japan to here in disguise to retrieve her. There is no doubt that your presence by helping me with Christine's rescue, and by extension, Kagome's rescue, they'll reward you greatly.
When and if you plan to meet me, I will be as black as the crow in the night. I strongly advise you to decided quickly and wisely about this, Erik, for Christine's sake and the Girys' sake as well. And for Kagome's sake. Madame Giry and Meg are under suspicion that they helped you escape the French Law. Remember my words, relay your response to me on the organ's bench by tomorrow evening.
Your Servant,
Assassin
Erik, frozen with anger and terror, growled. He thought only Omar and the Girys knew that he was alive and in Norway living a new life. How did this man, Assassin know that I was here and who I was? How does he know Christine personally without my knowledge of him? How did he know of my new life in Norway? He turned and rushed the along the path from his ruined lair, only slowing when he reached the mirror to that pathway outside. He looked around his ruined lair, trying to determine if he needed anything. No… I will have Madame Giry take things if I need... That is if I remember anything that I need from here...
If Christine truly is in danger from Raoul's hand that Assassin had said then I need to make my choice as quick as I can. Though I will need Madame Giry's advice before I make my choice. Do I truly love Christine still? Erik thought as he contemplated his ruined lair. However, when he heard the eerie sound of something splashing in the waters without seeing anything, Erik turned and rushed through the tunnels towards Rue Scribe. He needed to get to Madame Giry's place quickly before the sun rose. He shouldn't be caught dead here in France.
As he left his lair, Erik felt the eerie sensation of being watched, though he didn't turn back to look around again as he walked. He never noticed the faint, glowing, reptilian eyes watching him move from beneath a coil of black and dark green clothing.
~Raoul and Christine's bedroom…~
Christine sat in her bedroom chair, staring into the fire, shaking in spite of its life-giving warmth and the blanket around her shoulders. She was scared of what Raoul would do to her tonight after she had made eye contact with his brother Phillip. All she wanted was to speak with him and tell him how thankful he had been as a friend, but when she saw that Raoul had noticed they had made eye contact, he had sent her up here immediately after dinner was finished. He gave the guests the excuse that she was tired from the day's event and wished to retire. That was an hour ago. She waited… And waited… Ever looking into the moving flames before her.