A Late Fall
The fall had been a late one. Summer seemed as if it would never end with its beautiful warm weather and the flowers that bloomed longer than usual. But now the trees were almost bare and there was a chill in the air. The scent of burning leaves emanated from the park where the workers raked them into wire containers before setting them alight. And there was the scent of roasting chestnuts from the vendors set up near the park.
Erik had dared to leave his Lair in the early morning for a stroll to enjoy the change in the weather. He pulled the hood of his cloak up to shield his face with its half mask from scrutiny before he left the side gate of the Opera House.
Little did he realize, though, that the unmasked side would draw the admiring stares of women in the area, both young and old, he was that handsome. The side that was covered kept him from noticing. It had drawn screams from more than one woman over the years and when he had been exhibited caged, like a wild animal, during his tenure with the Gypsies, women had been among the paying audience to stare in shock at his uncovered face.
As he wandered the pathways through the park, taking in all the sights and colors around him, enjoying the crispness of the fresh air, his pronounced hearing detected a familiar sound. He glanced around. There on a bench were his pupil, Christine (and, admittedly, he saw her as more than that), and the Viscount Raoul de Chagny. His blood froze in his veins and he stepped behind a large poplar and crept closer, tree by tree, until he was right in front of them.
Christine was distressed. He could see that much. "Raoul", she pleaded, "I know how your family sees me. I am no longer the little playmate you brought home to tea at your seaside cottage. Your brother, Philippe, sees me as unfitting someone in your station. Honestly, he never cared for me. He was older and looked at me and my beloved Papa as street performers, even though my father was made lead violinist at the Opera House not long after that summer. Don't insist I attend your family's masquerade at the chateau, tonight. I will feel quite uncomfortable among all your titled friends and family."
"My dearest," Raoul pleaded (here, Erik physically cringed at those words). "Have no fear. You are a leading light at the Opera. My family's patronage has helped pay your salary…" Erik was outraged at this statement and it took all his self control not to leap out of his hiding place and throttle the boy (he was hardly what Erik thought of as a man), but Christine stood and faced Raoul, her eyes gleaming,
"What are you inferring, Raoul, that you and your family own me?" She spoke coolly, and civilly, but her words were pointed.
"No, Mon Dieu, Christine, You never let me finish a sentence before jumping to conclusions.."
"Is that so, Raoul? I wonder why you would associate with such an uncultured wretch like me"
"Christine, please! What I was trying to say is that you are a star at the Opera and my family has enjoyed your performances. You would be welcome at the masquerade. Everyone will want to talk to you. Besides, you are more beautiful than any Marquess or Countess…"
Christine seated herself beside him on the bench once more. Erik listened intently. He saw Christine's eyes glinted with tears. His heart went out to her. How he wanted to protect her from anyone or anything that would hurt her.
"Please come. It would mean so much to me. Remember the red scarf? I almost came down with pneumonia fetching it for you from the icy sea. You owe me a favor. "
"Oh, Raoul. Why do you go on? I would have given up that scarf to the depths of the ocean if I knew I was going to have to pay you back for it." She smiled at him. Erik cursed him, but stayed put. "Let me think. I wouldn't even know what to wear."
"Leave that to me, dearest. I will send you something befitting." He stood and reached out his hand. "You are making assumptions, again, Raoul. I didn't promise you I would go." She took his hand and stood. He placed her hand on his arm and together they walked towards where the Viscount's carriage awaited them.
Erik stepped into the lane and watched the pair move away. He didn't know what to think about what he had witnessed. Or what the true relationship of Christine and Raoul might be. He knew they had known each other as children. But this? And the inference that Christine was not good enough for the de Chagnys infuriated him.
He made his way back to the Lair fuming. It was still early in the day. Would Christine want her lesson? Or would she be forced to attend the de Chagny costume gala, instead? He wondered. He was too unnerved to even eat a light brunch, instead, he paced the area of his parlor until he found himself within the passage way that lead to Christine's room. Unsure what he would find, he stood behind the huge two way mirror and peered though the gauzy depths.
There was Christine. It was clear she had been to the Girys' for a bath, as her hair was still damp and she rubbed it with a pale pink towel. Then she sat at her dressing table and combed it out. She was heartbreakingly beautiful. Erik could only stare, speechless. There was a knock at the door and Meg Giry, Christine's closest companion, and the daughter of Erik's dear friend, Antoinette Giry, entered and sat on Christine's bed, watching Christine finish her hair and pin it up.
"What was in the package Raoul sent?" Meg could not bear secrets nor was she very good at keeping anyone's but Christine's.
"I haven't even opened it. You can if you want."
Both Erik and Meg brightened at those words. Erik, for he saw that she had not opened this gift, and Meg, because she loved surprises, even if they were not meant for her.
She tore off the string and gasped at what was contained in the package. "Look, Christine, it is stunning!" She stood and held up a deep purple, black and gold satin and lace gown and then, digging deeper, drew out a mask, also in purple, black and gold. "You could wear your lavender boots with it. You will look like a Queen!" Meg cried!
"I wish you could go in my place, "Christine sighed. "I suppose I will go, but I swear it will be the last time. Even if it means hurting Raoul. I would rather never see him again than be sneered at by his family and their guests. It would hurt my dear beloved Papa to see me treated that way. Thank goodness the Angel of Music watches over me. I won't be entirely alone."
Erik smiled to himself. A plan was taking action in his mind.
It was 6:00 p.m. Christine was back in her dressing room after dining with the Girys. She had put on her costume, and it quite took Erik's breath away. She was radiant, but he saw sadness in her eyes. He could not help himself, "Christine, my Angel, is something the matter?"
She turned towards the mirror gazing at her reflection, as if she knew Erik was on the other side of it. "How did you know, my Angel?" she asked. "You always sense things about me, what I am feeling. You are so much a part of me. I must attend a masquerade party at the de Chagnys estate. I would rather be here with you and have our lesson." She sighed.
"Do not worry, my dear," Erik spoke soothingly, "I will be watching over you."
"Thank you, my Angel. I would survive anything knowing you will be with me."
At this, Erik smiled.
That evening:
The carriage had come and collected Christine and taken her to the estate. There she was greeted by Raoul, who came and took her arm. He was dressed as a harlequin, in black and white. As they entered the grand ballroom she glanced around and found all eyes were on her. She could hear the whispers and laughs coming from the women who stood about holding glasses of wine and small plates of hors d'oeuvres. The men were silent, devouring her through their masked eyes.
Christine stood tall, and regal, knowing in her heart her father would have done so, and also knowing the Angel of Music was in the room, a thought that gave her no small amount of comfort.
Raoul was presenting her to his sisters who wore matching bird of paradise costumes and Philippe was there, looking down his nose at her, dressed as a king, in gold brocade, "Is she here as the entertainment?" he asked. "Philippe, didn't I ask you to respect me and Christine, tonight. " Raoul pouted.
Philippe ignored him, and stood at the center of the ballroom, "Let the dances begin! Remember, at midnight, masks off" he shouted, and the orchestra started up, and Raoul, still pouting took Christine's hand and led her to the dance floor. Christine, hurt but not surprised by Philippe and the other women in attendance held herself together and let Raoul twirl her around the dance floor, until, a tall, handsome figure, a man dressed all in black, with a black mask and two black wings sprouting from his shoulders stepped in and said, "May I?" Raoul sputtered in disbelief but there was something about this man, no doubt some friend of his brother, that made him release Christine to his waiting arms.
All eyes were on them. "Didn't I tell you I would not leave you alone, tonight, Christine?" the man purred. Christine stared at him though her mask. "Angel?" she whispered. "Is it really you?" Her heart leapt at the sound of his voice.
"Yes, my dear. I would not let anyone insult or belittle my Angel, the most beautiful and talented presence ever to grace the stage of the Paris Opera House… and many other world stages will be coming your way, I can promise you. If you follow my guidance."
"I would follow you, anywhere, Angel." Christine said softly.
"Is that so?" Erik replied, his yellow eyes gazing into her warm brown ones.
They danced closely together, unaware as the music went on and people all over the dance floor stared at the attractive couple.
"Who is that man?" Raoul standing next to Philippe asked him. "I assumed he was someone you knew, dear brother. He has all the look of a performer about him," and he reached for the whiskey bottle poring himself a drink, and then, taking another glass, poured one for Raoul, who held it, staring blankly at the usurper who had stolen his beloved.
It was almost midnight and they had not left one another's arms for the whole of the evening. "Do you want to stay, or shall we slip away?" Erik asked.
"Let's go. Please."
Erik took her hand and led her away from the crowd, away from Raul who attempted to follow, until he saw the glare Erik leveled in his direction, and they slipped out through the garden doors, where Erik shed his beautiful black wings, and whistled softly, and moments later his handsome black stallion, Isra, stood before them.
He gracefully ascended the stallion's back and seated himself in the saddle and held out his hand to Christine, who briefly looked behind her to the form of Raoul in the doorway, then took Erik's hand as he pulled her up to sit before him, his strong arms on either side of her taking the reins. "Do you understand that I am not just your Angel and tutor," he breathed into her ear, as Isra, took off, "that I am a man, who loves you and adores you and would fight the demons of hell to protect you?"
"Yes." Christine replied.
"Do you know what lies beneath this mask, Christine? Are you strong enough to know that people have looked upon my face with fear and horror. Can you know you won't do the same once I am unmasked?"
She could hear him clearly as Isra pounded through the night, the stars glittering above, Erik's cape streaming behind him. All she could think was that her dream had come true. Her Angel had not only protected her but was in fact a man she had been in love with for a very long time without even knowing it.
They came to a clearing, a place where the full moon shown brightly down. Erik reined Isra to a stop, then stepped down from his horse and helped Christine down. She stood before him. He reached up and removed his mask. She saw clearly the beauty of his left side and looked closely at the deformity of his birth, the sunken cheek and eye. He stood proudly but his eyes looked at her pleadingly. She reached up a hand to caress his cheek. He stood still as she removed her own mask then stood on tiptoe and placed a kiss on his lips. He paused, hesitating before he threw his arms around her and crushed her to him, kissing her passionately, with all his heart and soul and she responded. Then they stood beaming at one another before returning to Isra, who waited patiently.
"You are mine now", he whispered to her. Sitting before him on the huge black stallion, she whispered back, "We are one another's."