Hello, hope you guys are having a great summer. I just need to clear up a few things:
1) Christine does have blonde hair, and she is much like the Leroux and Kay version.
2) however Erik will be more musical based. When I created the first meeting between the two, I thought of Erik's mask as a Don Juan Triumphant mask, instead of the Kay mask, which Erik wears throughout.
R&R
...
"No," I said, willing my voice to stop shaking. "I will not marry you."
"I'm afraid, love, you have no choice. You were the only one alive in that utter hellhole. Besides, you're not even a lunatic. I checked extra carefully."
I feel my knees hit the floor, and hear the click of a gun behind my head.
"Oh god, why are you doing this to me?" I feel nauseous.
"Later Christine, you will join me for dinner and I shall tell you what is to be expected of you."
He eyes me with unhidden interest and I shiver.
"For now, De Chagney will take you to your room."
I follow Raoul silently, hoping, wishing he'd remember me.
He doesn't even look at me.
We arrive at a large wood door, I presume its oak, but the trees are running out.
"This is your room," Raoul says gently. He walks into the room and deposits his gun on my bed. "I'm not here to hurt you, Christine. I'm just following orders." He walks over to the wardrobe, opening it to reveal hundreds of dresses. He trails his hand lazily over the fabric, his hand finally settling on a deep blue, silk dress. It's beautiful. "If you want to get changed, I'd use the bathroom," he lowers his voice to a whisper, "It's the only place there isn't a camera."
I do as he says and pick a dress out of the wardrobe. I turn on my heel and head for the shower.
...
7 minutes I am in the shower for. I know because it is so much time compared to what I got in the asylum. I scrub my self over again with a soap that smells fresh, and wash my hair over and over again. I don't look at my reflection in the mirror as I step out of the shower; I don't want to see myself. Slipping on the dress, I feel it slide against my torso and thighs. It wasn't the deep blue one, it is instead a soft white and it falls just above my knee. Finding a brush, I brush the snarls out of my hair, sending it straight down my back, instead of its usual ringlets.
When I emerge from the bathroom, Raoul is sitting on the bed, waiting. He spins when I cough lightly, and looks at me. What he sees must surprise him, as his eyes widen and his mouth opens. I wonder how much different I look to him.
"Destler wants you now, are you ready?" He asks, opening the door and walking out without a second glance at me. I trail behind him, taking note of the long corridor and dim lights.
We walk towards a bright light, and for a moment, my eyes go blind before adjusting.
What I see shocks me.
A huge table is set in a huge room. There is food everywhere, and yet I know that the majority of the world are suffering of starvation. A huge chandelier is hung above the table, in the centre of the room, gold and white and I begin to see a rainbow. I'm actually enjoying this. I see people; maids. They're scurrying around, getting final preparations ready before he arrives. Raoul ushers me into a seat, his voice more threatening than usual, but I realise its for show. The dining room slowly files in, Raoul is sat opposite to me and I am beside the empty chair at the head of the table. Other guards come in, always looking at me. Some grin at me and it gives me shivers up my spine; I don't know why.
When Destler arrives, (my stomach is rumbling so loudly) everyone stands up, except for me. I sit there and glare at him defiantly. His amber eyes shine back with amusement and irritation. He is wearing a different mask, one which shows half of his face. I'm surprised that he is actually attractive. With a strong jawline, the slightest bit of stubble and a thick brow, I am undeniably attracted to him, yet I hate him.
"Good evening, everyone." He lazily strolls closes the gap between us, and takes a seat at the head of the table. He smiles evilly at me, showing a perfect array of white teeth.
A light chatter starts as dinner is served, however Destler just stares at me, and I feel my cheeks grow warm.
When my food arrives, I stare at it. My frame is so emaciated, that if I were to eat this much food, I would be sick. However, I don't not eat it for that reason, I don't eat it simply because I hate this place. I hate the offer he has given me, and I hate him.
He notices I'm not eating, leans over and whispers in my ear, "do not mistake bravery with foolishness, love. You will eat because you have been starved."
A white hot fury blinds me as he orders me to eat. "I would rather die than eat your food and listen to you call me love."
I realise the table is now quiet and I am standing up, slamming a fist against the fancy wooden table. Destler pulls out a gun and fires it, all the while looking directly at me. I break eye contact to see where the bullet has landed, and find it has lodged itself into the neck of a pig that was being brought out to eat.
"Sit down, Christine." I gaze at him with all the hatred I can muster, and risk a glance at Raoul. His eyes are pleading with me to do as he says. I eventually make my stiff feet move, and sit back down again, but Destler doesn't miss the interaction.
"Must de Chagney do all my work for me?"
"What?" I ask, flinching, looking at him.
"It's pardon, my love." He corrects, "Surely, you should listen to your fiancée more than your guard. I thought rebellion was your type of party, my dear." Sarcasm drips from his last sentence and I wince at the word fiancée. Instantly the table goes up into cheers and congratulations. I want to cry.
He pulls me up from the table, grabbing my hands. I almost pull back as his hands are long, bony and very cold; but pulling back is not an option.
I eat the rest of my meal silently, only managing a quarter of the plate.
"Are you finished?" He asks, wiping his mouth on a handkerchief at the table.
"Yes," I speak quietly, never looking away from my plate.
"Then you shall retire now." He states firmly, rising once more and pulling me from the table. I'm so tired. Raoul goes to stand up to take me back to my room, but Erik stops him, wrapping an arm possessively around my waist.
We step into an elevator and my brain is whizzing with questions despite my fatigue.
"What is your name?" It slips out.
He faces me, slowly advancing until I feel my back hit the wall of the elevator. His arms go to either side of my head.
"I mean, Destler obviously isn't a first name." I mumble, aware of how close he is.
He leans even closer - if possible, so his lips are centimetres away from mine, and chuckles. He smells like mint. "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours." His eyes are bright with a fire as he looks me up and down.
"What?" I whisper weakly, praying he will move away from me soon as I can feel my cheeks begin to flush.
"I meant, I'll tell you mine if you show me yours." His voice has taken on a low purr, but i hardly notice as his fingers are tracing my lips, and slowly make their way down to the column of my neck. He holds them there.
Is he going to strangle me in the elevator?
"Show you my what?" I manage to rasp out. My throat is dry with fright and some other emotion I do not know the name of.
"If you sing for me, Christine." He exclaims suddenly. As though he had been playing a game of surprise, but has grown bored of the guessing. He moves away as the elevator doors open, still keeping that stupid, stupid hand around my waist
"I-I don't sing."
"Nonsense! I know everything about you Christine Daae, and you can sing."
"I haven't sang in years. I'm no good." I protest feebly.
"Goodnight, Christine. We shall begin your lessons tomorrow." With that, he leant in and kissed me. It is the first real kiss I have ever received from a man. Too tired to push him away, I stand still. In a strange way, I enjoyed it. I spot Raoul outside my door and give him a soft smile as I walk past, into my room. To tired to even change, I got into bed and waited for sleep to hit me.