.Yet another update! Of course you know that I don't own anything or anybody, but I'll repeat it just to be on the safe side.
Second, thank you to my readers and reviewers, please don't stop! Let me know what you like or dislike about this or any of my other stories (reviews to finished stories are still welcome as well!)
Anyway, our not-yet-couple is alone again, and towards the end of the chapter it gets really fluffy again. But we also learn something new about Christine's marriage and we can look forward to meet two old friends soon.. I hope you will like this chapter
Chapter 9 – Rest
Even though Erik avoided difficult territory, forced César to run at a steady trot and tried to hold Christine in a way that she was as comfortable as possible, after a while the young woman grew exhausted and asked her Angel for a short break. Erik looked around and spotted a little clearing ahead, with soft, green grass, where Christine could rest. He directed César towards the clearing and they got off the horse. Erik lead Christine towards a huge oak-tree which offered protection against the hot summer sun. While César started to browse, Erik looked around for some more berries and Christine lay down on the soft grass. As safe and protected as she felt in her Angel's arms, her pregnancy was making her uncomfortable. Not only did she tire easily, her back also gave her problems because of the baby's extra weight she was carrying and therefore, from time to time she simply needed to lie down flat on her back.
After a while Erik returned, both his hands full of ripe berries. Christine smiled at him. She much preferred those to the hard bread and cheese that Erik carried in his saddle bag. Her Angel really went out of his way to make her as comfortable as possible. She once again had to think how different her life had suddenly become. Until a day ago she had lived in luxury, but had been lonely and unwelcome, now she was on the road, everything was primitive, but she was loved and accepted. "Sit down with me, Erik," she asked her dear friend, "have some berries, too!" She almost added that he needed to put on some weight, since he was much thinner than the last time she had seen him, but suppressed those words in time. She knew by now that he had a rather low self-esteem because of his face and she was not sure how he would take a comment about his weight. She did not want him to think that his face was not the only thing about him that was ugly.
At first Erik did not want to eat his share of the fruit, but Christine proved to be rather stubborn and insisted, so that he finally ate a few raspberries. Erik was still relishing the feeling, that Christine, his Christine, would want to share her delicacies with him, when her next words brought him out of his reverie. "Erik, once we have reached Paris, do I have to go to the de Chagny town house?" Christine looked up at him. Erik realized that he had not yet thought that far ahead. He could understand that she would not want to live with her in-laws, who probably blamed her for her husband's death, and would once again treat her in a condescending manner, insult her, or simply ignore her. He also had to admit, that she would most likely not be safe in the de Chagny household, where Théophile-Auguste could come and go as he pleased, while Erik and Nadir could not be with Christine every moment of every day to protect her. On the other hand, her baby had to be born in the de Chagny house, to leave no doubt that the child she presented as the de Chagny heir was really hers and not a changeling.
"Where else would you want to go?" Erik finally asked. Christine bit her lip. If she were completely honest, she would have had to say, "Let me stay with you, protect me against Monsieur Théophile-Auguste, keep me and my baby safe," but she knew herself that that was impossible. It would not only be completely inappropriate for her to stay with a man she was not related with, it would also confirm all the rumors and suspicions about her lifestyle as a performer. Besides, Erik did not even have a place of his own, since as far as she knew, he was staying with Nadir. And of course, there also was the problem of Erik's feelings for her. Who knew what he would read into her desire to stay with him for safety and protection? She did not want to give him false hope. Of all people on the whole world he was the last one she would want to hurt, and after her negative experiences with love and marriage, she was positive that friendship was all she would ever feel for anybody or want from anybody again.
Christine racked her brain. Where could she go? She did not want to go to her in-laws and she could not stay with Erik, the Opera was not completely rebuilt yet, what other possibilities were there? "Madame Giry!" She suddenly blurted out the name of her surrogate mother. "Could you bring me to her and Meg?" Erik hesitated. "Do you know where they live now?" he asked. He had not been in touch with the Girys since the fire at the Opera, and did not even know if they were currently in Paris. Christine nodded. "Of course, though I have not seen them in quite a while. Raoul did not want me to socialize with the theater folk, as he called it." She blushed, remembering yet another fight she had lost. She was fairly certain that Raoul would have had no objections against her seeing Meg and her mother, but the Comte had categorically forbidden any visits to her former colleagues, and Raoul had taken his father's side in the argument, as he had done so often.
"But you think they would still take you in for a few days?" Erik inquired. Christine nodded. "They know that I would have come if I could have," she explained. "I am sure they will be glad to see me." Erik hoped she was right. It would only be for a few days anyway, since the moment Christine showed up at her husband's funeral, his family would force her to stay with them, at least until the birth of her child. But it was probably a good idea for Christine to stay hidden until then, letting Théophile-Auguste wonder what had become of her. Maybe her sudden, unexpected reappearance at the funeral would cause that unsavory character to reveal his involvement in her accident, which right now they could not prove.
"In that case," Erik finally decided, "I shall bring you to Antoinette." He chuckled. "I wonder what she'll say when we suddenly show up at her doorstep. I am fairly certain, she believes me dead." Christine gazed at him with her huge, brown eyes. "As did I," she whispered. "But I am so glad you are not dead."
Erik stiffened. He did his best not to read too much into her words. Of course she was glad that he had been there to rescue her. There was absolutely no reason to think she might have deeper feelings for him. Christine sensed his sudden withdrawal and sighed. Erik was her dearest friend and she loved him to pieces, but his low self-esteem was sometimes hard to deal with. She shyly grabbed his hand. "Erik, please," she pleaded with him. "Look at me. You must believe me. I am very glad that you are alive. Not just because you saved my life yesterday, and my baby's life as well. You do mean a lot to me. You always have and you always will. I have missed you terribly this past year. You are the only one that understood me when my father died, the only one that was able to help me deal with the pain and the loss. You are also the only one that shares my passion for music and you have trained my voice and helped me in more ways than I can tell. You have always been there when I needed somebody. You have always put me first." She paused, glancing at him, trying to read in his eyes whether or not he believed her.
"Erik, please," she continued. "You must believe me. I really mean it. I do not have a better friend than you, and since my father's death you have been the most important person in my life." Erik shut his eyes and winced. "Except for … your husband," he murmured. His voice was strained and Christine sensed all the pain of his unrequited love in those few words. "Oh my poor Angel," she whispered. "Don't you see? Friendship and love are two different things. I loved Raoul, yes, but that does not mean that I did not care for you as well, though in a different way. Or that I stopped loving my father, the moment I fell in love with Raoul. One can care for more than one person, in different ways, but with the same intensity. You do have your place in my heart, for all eternity, and nobody will ever be able to chase you from there."
Erik laughed bitterly. "Until you find another young man to fall in love with. You are way too young to remain a widow for the rest of your life. Sooner or later you will remarry." There was so much pain at the bottom of his eyes, so much hurt in his voice, that Christine had to fight back tears. What else would it take for her to convince him that she truly cared for him? A little bit exasperated, she continued, "Erik, don't be silly, first, I just told you that your place in my heart is secure, and second, I will not marry again, I can promise you that."
Christine looked Erik in the eyes to show him the sincerity of her words. She was not ready to discuss the reasons for that decision with him, but she had no desire whatsoever to get married again. She shuddered at the memory of what indignities a woman had to endure in a marriage, if she wanted to have children. She had been so naive and had had no idea what to expect during her wedding night. Therefore she had been utterly shocked when Raoul had suddenly stripped naked in front of her and told her teasingly to take off her nightgown as well. He had explained to her that it was her duty to do so now, and that all married couples acted that way, and that this was necessary in order to have children. He had finally stripped her of her nightgown and when she had tried to cover herself with her hands, he had laughed and called her his little prudish girl. She was sure that she would not have taken such humiliation from anybody but her beloved Raoul – and even with him it had been more than awkward. She had finally given in and allowed him to explore her body with his hands and lips and tongue, but she had stiffly endured, she had not enjoyed it. She could not convince herself that what was happening to her was right. It felt inappropriate. And it hurt. Raoul had ensured her that it would not hurt the next time, and that she would be able to enjoy it then, but she never did. She had understood, that Raoul enjoyed those activities and she was also aware that certain things were necessary in order to get pregnant, but she had concluded that this was obviously a male thing, that women could not derive pleasure from such indignities and just had to play along in order to please their husbands. As much as she had loved Raoul, she had always feared those hours in the bedroom and had prayed for a pregnancy, since she had hoped that Raoul would then leave her alone for a few months.
Of course she could not talk about these things to anybody. Not even to Erik. Least of all to Erik. She blushed. If Erik had not released her that night, if she had had to stay with him – would he have forced her to undress in front of him and would he have stripped naked before her eyes as well? She somehow could not imagine him treating her with anything but the utmost respect.
Erik wallowed in self-pity. All he had heard was that Christine would not marry again. To his ears that sounded as if she still loved the Vicomte, no matter how poorly he had treated her or allowed his family to treat her, that her love for her dead husband was so deep and strong that she would never consider another relationship. She could not have told him in more uncertain words that there was no chance for him, no hope, not even now that she was free again.
Christine glanced at Erik. Had he noticed her embarrassment when she had told him she would never remarry? Had he guessed the reason for her embarrassment? To her dismay she saw that he was utterly shaken, fighting back tears. Whatever was the matter now?
"Erik," Christine tried to get his attention. "Don't be so sad. I really mean it, when I say you are my best friend. I know you have troubles believing me. You think that nobody can care for you because of your face. But that is not true. I do like you, and I am not the only one. Nadir likes you, too, and I think so does Mme. Giry." Erik looked away, desperately trying to control the various emotions that assaulted him.
Christine felt bad. Erik had done so much for her, and she had made him sad again. She wanted to help him calm down, for him to accept that he would always have her friendship so that he could feel secure in that knowledge. If only she knew how to achieve all this…
"Erik," she began once again. "If only I could convince you, that your face does not matter to me, that what you look like has no influence on my friendship. None whatsoever. I wish you would allow me to prove it to you by showing me your face, all of it." She hesitated as she felt him stiffen. "You know that I have seen your face before, Angel," she finally continued, softly. "But of course never with your permission. I am asking your permission now. I am asking you to give me a chance to prove to you that my friendship does not need certain standards of appearance, that it is the person I value. That you don't have to fear your face will end our friendship or that a prettier person will get between us. Let me see the face of my dearest friend. Please."
Erik was an emotional wreck. She sounded so sincere, as if she really believed what she said, as if his abomination of a face did not scare her, as if she could be his friend even when forced to look at his naked face. He wanted so much to believe her, oh God, how many years had he dreamed of her learning to look at his face without fear? But what if she overestimated her strength? If she could not bear the sight of his face after all? If his face scared her, she could go into premature labor.
"I cannot," he whined. "Even if I could muster the courage, I could not do that to you. You seem to think you will be able to look at my face without fear or disgust, but I know from experience that this is not possible. Nobody can do that. You also have to think of your baby, if you go into shock because of my ugliness, you could harm the child." Christine smiled at him reassuringly. "I am willing to take that risk, Angel," she said. "And think back, I told you once before that your face does not scare me. I meant it then, and I mean it now. That night I even…" she blushed deeply at the memory of her behavior. "If I had been scared or disgusted, do you think I would have…" Christine struggled to get the words out, but failed. She simply could not get herself to admit that she had actually kissed Erik. True, she had considered herself his bride then – but what self-respecting woman would kiss a man first?
Erik understood her anyway. The memory of those two kisses was what had kept him alive during his long illness. The feeling of her soft lips on his, her hand caressing his deformed cheek – those few moments had been the happiest ones of his miserable life. Of course he knew that she had kissed him to save her beloved's life, and maybe out of pity as well. Certainly not out of love. But she did have a point. If she had been scared or disgusted, she most likely would not have been able to muster the courage to kiss him. He looked at Christine hesitantly. "Please, Angel," she begged. "Show me your face. Let me prove to you, that I do care for you and that your face does not matter."
Erik sighed. He would do anything for her if she looked at him like that. Anything, except what she was asking of him. "Please." Christine had tears in her eyes now and Erik's heart melted. He could do it. For her, he could. After all, what was the worst that could happen? That she would not be able to look at him without fear. He was used to that reaction. He would deal with it as he always did. He stiffened. Was she aware how hard this was on him? Nervously his hands went to his mask, his fingers fumbling, not quite succeeding at first in untying the mask, that second skin which hid his shame to the world. He closed his eyes and braced himself for Christine's reaction, while at the same time preparing himself to quickly put the mask back on in order to spare her further distress. Slowly, he lowered the mask, baring his face to Christine. She looked at him, memorizing each wrinkle and crevice, each vein and each lump of flesh. True, his face was ugly, but that was not Erik's fault, and it was unfair to make him suffer for something he could not help. "Erik, Angel," Christine whispered. "Look at me. Do I seem scared or disgusted to you?"
Erik slowly opened his eyes. Christine was looking at his disgusting face with so much genuine affection, that he thought he might die with joy. She raised her left hand and asked "May I?" before putting it on his marred cheek, gently caressing his deformity. Erik gasped. He had not expected this. Oh, how good it felt to have her touch him in such a way! And she was smiling at him, too! Surely, not even Heaven could hold greater wonders than what he was experiencing right now.
Christine saw how moved Erik was, and how unused to caresses of any sort he obviously was. Her heart ached thinking of how much cruelty and unkindness he must have endured because of his disfigurement, if such a simple gesture as her small caress could affect him so deeply. She pulled him close to her and hugged him. "Do you finally believe that I care for you, and that your face does not matter? Do you believe now, that you will always have my friendship?" Christine asked. Erik nodded. He could not speak. He was too overwhelmed by the intensity of Christine's courage and friendship and his own emotions. For what she had just done was the ultimate proof of her affection for him. She might not love him the way he would want her to love him, but her feelings for him were definitely strong and deep and he knew beyond any doubt, that nothing and nobody would be able to break their friendship, for Christine had accepted him for who he was. With that knowledge he almost felt like a normal man.