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Chapter 3

Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

The song she sings is "Pablo and Maria" by Zane Williams. I have loved/hated this song from the moment I heard it. It will make you cry. It made me cry and I don't cry.

sarahlet2999

P.S. There are two * in the song behind certain words. I took the liberty of replacing the original words with the ones you see there now. If you listen to the song, you will hear the different words but it made more sense to use the ones I substituted.

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"Candela de la Vaga." The former maid answered back, relaxing despite the knee that was in the small of her back, the hand that icily gripped her wrists, and the hand that covered her mouth, almost keeping her from being able to speak. "Now, please be so kind as to release me. This is no way to treat your nurse. This is most ungentlemanly." She made it a point to sound most upset with him while not tensing even a bit when he pressed harder into her back, ending all movement she might have attempted. While Senorita Daae had been completely terrified of him, the child had seemed to believe he was a gentleman at all times. But, this restraining a girl upon her bed was hardly the work of a gentleman.

"So, you're the one to which I owe this unwanted life I now have?" He snarled into her ear, the faint smell of death hanging about him. The girl was absolutely infuriating. The only struggle she had put up was upon waking but as soon as her senses were gathered, she was as limp as a rag doll beneath him, and, on top of it all, talking back to him like a bantam, demanding that he free her. For decades he had relied on the power he held to frighten, cajole, or shock anyone into obedience. This ugly girl was completely stripping him of that power.

"Yes, I am. If you'll let me go, I'll explain." And, for the first time since their conversation, she yanked on her hands, only to find he held them all the tighter. "You know I was under the impression you were a gentleman. 'A gentleman who dresses in fancy evening suits and haunts an opera house' I was told. Honestly, you're a disappointment." For a moment, she almost managed to turn her to head to face her captor, but at the last moment he forced it back so she was once more staring at her pillow.

"Violent too." She muttered to herself. "And, all this after I spent nearly a week nursing you back to health even if you did want to kill yourself. Suicide is the coward's way out, after all." Candela rattled on as if oblivious to her current uncomfortable position.

"I am not a coward." The Opera Ghost retorted, restraining her tightly enough to begin causing minor pain. Candela shrugged and her sarcastic mind quickly formed a verbal way out of the physical restrains she was in.

"If the mighty Opera Ghost isn't a coward, explain why he's imprisoning a girl half his size and strength as if she was a threat?" There was silence for a moment before the body over top her vanished and, turning over on her back, she saw the austere Phantom now residing at the foot of her bed. In his death's sleep in his coffin, he had cut an imposing figure, yet, now as he stood, straight and tall albeit trembling a little from his resent malnutrition, Candela could understand easily how he would strike fear into the most tenacious of hearts. Oddly enough, she felt herself unmoved by his persona and sat up, holding the blanket against her chest for modesty sake.

"Now, we may speak as civilized human beings. In answer to your question, I fell through your doorway into this subterranean burrow and became lost in the maze, stumbled upon your lake and boat, and found my way over here." Deciding it wouldn't be too wise of a decision to mention her original intents to him, she paused for a moment. "I found you in your coffin and saved your life. By the way, you will need to restock your larder soon." Candela pointed out. "Three healthy meals a day for two people will drain one's food stores very quickly."

The Opera Ghost merely watched her, not belaying any emotion in his eyes or stance. The maid rolled her eyes and grabbed the gilded pocket watch sitting on the bedside table. Squinting, she read the time.

"Three o'clock in the morning." She grumbled as she threw back the blankets and stood up, choosing to ignore the impropriety of their situation with her dressed only a nightgown. "I don't relish being woken up at time of night but since I am, I might as well get to work. There is laundry and meal preparations to begin." Scooping up her dress, she walked behind the dressing screen and, after slipping off the silk nightgown, tugged the dress over her body and walked back out while still buttoning the last button on the back. As she strode to the door, she glanced back at the Phantom who was staring at her as if she was strange sort of bug.

"Breakfast will be ready at seven." She said over her shoulder before leaving the room and leaving Erik to his own thoughts.

"My house has been invaded by a mad woman." He whispered to himself as he followed her out the door but instead of going all the way to the kitchen with her, he returned to his bedroom, making sure the lock the door behind him and began to think as to what to do with girl.

"She is quite mad."

E-OC

As soon as the music began echoing from the bedroom, Candela sighed and began to sort through the laundry. There wasn't much of it. merely some unmentionables of hers and then a few clothes and rags. One of the luxuries she had grown to adore was the fresh, running water the house was equipped with. Even the Comte's house didn't have such amenities.

"And, they think they're so much better than him simply because they have a fancy titles and a mansion." She muttered to herself as she began to scrub the first item against the washboard. More often than not, Candela had heard Señorita Daae call the Phantom "a monster" but, she concluded inside herself that monster's didn't have parlors, dining rooms, or nice kitchens with the latest in culinary delights, especially considering he never entertained.

There was no logical reason for him to keep up the air of a proper gentleman.

"No, I don't believe he really is a monster." Candela said out loud, blocking out the violent organ music echoing through the house. "Some of us are just more eccentric than others for one reason for another. It is not for one mad person to judge another equally as mad."

After that conclusion, Candela fell silent, content to wash, scrub, and hang up the cleaned clothing inside the mirror torture chamber, a place she had found perfect for the drying of clothing. It was naturally hot in there when the lights were on so the clothes dried quickly and effectively despite the damp hole she was currently living in.

As she began to fix breakfast, the tune being played on the organ changed and she listened for a moment before beginning to softly sing,

"Pablo Escobedo took Maria for his bride, in the dead of winter in 1865*. Bitter snow was falling as a dozen ragged men, Surrounded the little chapel trapping Pablo in." The original melody was a sweet one and oddly paired with the passionate, uncontrolled cadence of the organ. Daringly, the maiden continued.

"They called out, 'surrender or we'll burn the whole place down.' Pablo whispered, 'death can't hurt me now. Stay here, my Maria, and remember me this way,' Then he kissed her lips and they dragged him away. And she heard him calling to her, 'Sweet Maria, can you hear me?' Muffled echoes up and down the frozen canyon walls. 'Maria, how I love you.'" Her voice crescendoed as the music echoed the rise before abruptly dropping to finish off the chorus, "'Til the lonesome sound had nowhere else to go, and was swallowed in the January snow." Candela paused long enough to catch her breath before beginning the next stanza,

"Silence fell as the solemn priest said, "God will avenge, my child." Maria just stared right through him hollow eyed and wild. Stumbling into the muddy streets, she lifted her eyes to see, the twisting awkward silhouette now still beneath the tree. No one dared to touch her as she left her lover there, and ran down towards the river with the hair whipping her hair.

"The snowflakes swirled behind her like the finest flowing train, and the north wind moaned and whispered as if it knew her pain. And she swore she heard him calling, "Sweet Maria, can you hear me?" Muffled echoes up and down the frozen canyon walls. "Maria, how I love you." 'Til she reached the edge of the river far below, and leapt into the January snow." The organ's music softened, causing her to close her eyes, picturing the heart-breaking scene on the back of eyelids.

"If you're ever down in Spain* in the January snow, and you hear a mournful whisper in the north wind as it blows. You may feel a lonesome presence of a lady all in white, weeping in the distance just out of your sight. And you may hear him calling to her, "Sweet Maria," muffled echoes up and down the frozen canyon walls. "Maria, how I love you." 'Til the lonesome sound has nowhere else to go, and is swallowed in the January snow."

The music ceased but it felt as if it lingered in the air, not willing to depart, reverberating in her ears and leaving her winded. Never had she sang so passionately in her life and enjoyed it quite so much. Glancing about her, she laughed to herself.

"I suppose singing to oneself is better than talking to oneself." She said as she shook herself and scooped the pieces of ham and fried eggs off the small stove into a bowl.

"Breakfast." She said with a smile as she closed her eyes breathed deep of the savory smell. "I wish I had some biscuits but one mustn't be picky." After setting the bowl down on the table, she set it for two and pulled the whistling tea kettle off the stove. After filling the two cups, she spooned several servings of sugar into her cup and left the Phantom's alone. He didn't seem to be the sort to enjoy lots of sugar.

When the place was set perfectly, she walked to his bedroom and was about to knock when she saw a note at her feet, having been slipped under the door for her to find. Knitting her black eyebrows, she picked it up and read it,

Dear Mademoiselle;

Enclosed are directions for your departure. Do so immediately.

Your humble servant,

O.G.

Candela de la Vega wasn't known for spending much time thinking over things; a trait that often led her into some sticky situations. The contents of this letter were no different. A rebellious smirk on her face, she drew herself to her full height and tucked the instructions away in her bosom.

"No, I think not."

E-OC

Erik had been listening at the door when the little Spanish maid made her declaration and he had half a mind to forcibly remove her or even kill her.

"You would be even more of a monster." He whispered to himself as he slinked away from the door and back to his organ, the well-worn keys responded willingly to his touch. For a while, he played, trying to bury his pain deep in the music of his Don Juan Triumphant, not caring if it damaged the girl in the kitchen. But, his music failed him.

Gazing down, helplessly, at the skeletal hands glaring back at him he gasped, trying not to break, trying not to cry.

"You deserve to live in this pain. You deserve to live. Dying is mercy. You deserve to live with the knowledge of all the ruin you've caused." He balled his hands until blood oozed from his cut palms.

"You don't deserve mercy."

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