Disclaimer: Encountering this tormented Phantom has changed my life, and yet, I do not, cannot own him...ah, but I do, in the recesses of my mind...
Chapter 10: The Aristocrat's Declaration
The silence stretched ominously between Erik and Christine, as they stood in the darkness of the corridor. He had lowered his arm, and the lantern now cast long beams of light over the floor.
At last, Erik sighed, and asked softly, raw pain in his voice, "Is it thus that you betray me, Christine?"
That pain seared through Christine's heart, hurting her more than his anger could have. She was surprised and saddened by the sorrow in his words. Her eyes immediately filled with tears, and she shook her head, her own voice trembling as she answered.
"I would never betray you, Erik, you must know that...I have pledged my love to you. Why would you doubt me?'
Setting his lantern on the floor, he walked over to her, and felt for her face in the darkness, having removed one of his gloves. His searching fingers brushed over a wet cheek, and his already disappearing anger turned into an overwhelming tenderness. Removing his Death's mask, he brought his lips to her cheek, and kissed away her tears as he brought his arms around her. It was then that he encountered the roses in her arms. He stiffened at once.
"He brought you roses, did he?" His anger surged once more.
"Please, Erik..." she whispered, distraught. "He only meant to praise my performance..."
"He means to court you, Christine! I am not blind!"
"My love," she answered, bringing one of her hands up to caress his face, "he was not aware of our betrothal. It is a secret, after all."
"And must remain such, at least for the moment." he countered firmly, as he took her small hand in his large one, and kissed the palm tenderly. Then he sighed. "Come, let us go to your dressing room. We can discuss this more thoroughly there."
This remark carried a hint of menace to her. "What more is there to discuss, Erik? There is nothing between Raoul and I!" Her anger now flared.
Erik laughed softly. "I see my little angel has quite a temper of her own! Come, my sweet, fear not! I simply wish to talk further about this childhood friend of yours. You must tell me more about him, hmmm?"
Taking her arm, he began walking her along the corridor, toward her dressing room.
"What shall I do with the roses, Erik? They are quite beautiful, are they not?"
His grasp on her arm tightened for a moment, then relaxed again.
"You shall not be accepting any roses in the future from anyone except your betrothed," he said sternly.
"But what shall I do with them?" she persisted.
"I care not how you dispose of them, Christine!" His voice had turned quite harsh again. "I will not allow you to have them in your dressing room!"
"Erik! He is just a friend! Am I not to enjoy the beauty of roses given to me by a friend?"
"A friend who would wish to become much more than that! Why are you tormenting me thus? If you keep the roses, he will think you are encouraging his suit!"
She tried to laugh his concerns away. "Oh, Erik, you are so ridiculously jealous!"
"Am I?" He sneered at her. "Am I, really? How very interesting that you should say so! You think it ridiculous that a man such as myself, with a horribly disfigured face, who has only his musical talents, should be jealous of a very handsome, very rich aristocrat who can lay the world at your feet?"
Now she laughed in earnest. "You are ridiculous, Erik! I do not want the world at my feet! I want only you!" She thereupon reached up to his face, and tugged it down to her own.
Their lips met, softly, softly...Erik groaned as he felt her yielding to him, giving him access to her mouth. His arms circled her waist, and he brought her roughly against his body as he deepened their kiss. The roses fell out of her arms. His tongue boldly caressed her own, and his hands began to roam her back even as her own hands twined around his neck, caressing his hair.
"Christine, Christine..." he moaned, breaking the kiss, then covering her entire face with more kisses. "You are the very breath of life to me! Never, never, leave me...I would die were you to desert me to my endless darkness..."
"Why do you have such thoughts, my love?" she answered, breathlessly. "Dismiss them from your mind! You, too, are the very breath of my life!"
He pulled out of their passionate embrace, smiling tenderly at her. "Come, then, my sweet angel. Let us go to your dressing room now."
He went to retrieve the lantern, and used it to guide their steps. The roses lay forgotten on the floor of the once-more darkened corridor.
Meg shrieked again when Raoul re-appeared, walking toward them. Carlotta was finally bearing down on them, surrounded by Bertollini and her retinue of admirers. Madame Giry braced to meet them.
"Well!" Carlotta snorted in derision when she at last stood before Giry. "So you have managed to manipulate the management to your advantage! Your little brat finally upstaged me!"
Madame Giry narrowed her eyes to mere slits. "I refuse to speak with anyone who addresses me in such an insolent manner! You are a disgrace to this Opera House, in spite of your considerable talent, Madame!"
"Bah! You think too highly of yourself! You are nothing but a ballet mistress! You seem to forget your place!"
Raoul smoothly stepped in.
"Madame Carlotta, may I venture to say that you performed divinely tonight?" He picked up one of her hands, and kissed it with gallant grace.
Carlotta simpered at him, her anger at Christine immediately set aside, although not entirely forgotten.
"Ah, Vicomte, you are entirely too kind! Were you truly delighted by my performance? Yet, it would have been much more magnificent had it not been for that little upstart who stole the audience's applause!"
Raoul straightened, smiling broadly at her.
"The little upstart?' he echoed, as if he did not know whom Carlotta was referring to. "Ah, you must mean Mademoiselle Christine Daae, my protegé!"
Carlotta paled at this remark, and the smile slowly began to melt from her face. "Your...protegé, Monsieur?"
"Indeed!" Raoul replied, smugly. "I have decided to further her career. She has an exquisite voice! Her debut tonight was nothing short of sublime! You, Madame, with your vast experience as a diva, would be in a position to know when a true talent emerges! Is that not so?"
"Well...yes, yes..." Carlotta spluttered, totally taken aback. This was truly momentous news! How had it come about that little, innocuous Christine Daae had acquired such a powerful benefactor? She suddenly smiled, her own expression now turning smug.
"Oh, but of course, Monsieur! You are quite right! She is indeed a most remarkable talent! But..." Her voice turned into a sultry drawl. "I wonder, which of her considerable talents you are most enamored of? Could it be, perhaps, that she is incredibly talented between the sheets, as well?"
Raoul's eyes widened in shock as Carlotta's smile turned into a wicked sneer. Shocked gasps came from all those around her, including Meg and her mother.
"You spiteful witch!" Meg screamed at her, as she came right up to her, nearly spitting in her face.
"Meg!" Madame Giry cried out, horrified, as she pulled her daughter out of the haughty diva's way.
"Madame..." Raoul's voice had lowered, and all could see that he shook with anger. "I had always considered you a lady, a grand dame of the opera. Now I see that I was sadly mistaken. You are nothing but a low-bred guttersnipe, who incredibly happens to possess a most impressive singing ability. How very sad that your abrasive personality detracts from your stature as the reigning opera queen. Were I not a consummate gentleman, you would most assuredly feel the sting of my hand upon your foolishly imperious face!"
Madame Giry held a hand over her mouth, her eyes full of tears, as she looked on, holding an equally tearful Meg with a firm grip.
Raoul now bowed stiffly, and turned to leave. The most oppressive silence followed him as he walked with heavy steps toward the exit. When he had reached it, he paused, and turned to the unmoving crowd of performers. All eyes were riveted upon him.
"Take care, Madame, how you refer to my fianceé in future! You shall not speak thus of her again, or you will never sing anywhere in Eruope from now on! I will personally guarantee that you do not!"
More shocked gasps followed him out the exit door, as Meg Giry gripped her mother's arm just as tightly as her mother was gripping hers.