A/N: Fluff ahoy! About damned time, right?
Christine waited until Erik's footsteps faded into silence before dropping the bloodstained blanket at her feet. She stretched her aching spine and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, shaking her head to rid herself of the haunting images left over from her brief nightmare. Raoul had waited on the other side of consciousness, his honest blue eyes swimming with tears.
"Little Lotte, you betrayed me," he whispered brokenly.
"No!" she insisted, flinging herself into his arms. "Never!" Despite her words, the Punjab lasso whipped out from the darkness, and Erik stepped out from behind a mirror, pulling the rope tighter and tighter around her husband's neck. His green eyes blazed as he slowly drained the life from Raoul. Christine held tight to her husband, pleading with him to forgive her.
He reached up a hand to touch her chin as he took his last strangled breaths before falling limply at Erik's feet. The victor took a step forward and grabbed Christine around the waist, his eyes glinting in triumph.
"Mine," he snarled savagely. "You are MINE."
She had nearly screamed when she woke a moment later to find Erik huddled over her. But in the flickering candlelight his eyes had been kind, and seeking solace in his arms, she had eagerly allowed him to lift her from the bed. Now, alone in the bathroom, the memory of Raoul's tormented eyes haunted her soul.
With a shaky sigh, she grabbed the rim of the porcelain bathtub and stepped inside. The water was scalding compared to the frigid air of Erik's underground home, and it took her a moment to adjust. She lowered herself slowly, gasping a bit as the water hit her stomach and chest. The skin of her legs had flushed to light pink, and she rubbed her calves absently as if it would return them to their normal color. Little curls of steam drifted upward from the surface of the water, carrying with them the intoxicating, familiar scent of roses. She played with a few of the petals scattered in the water as she lay back, smiling softly at the gesture. Erik had always gone out of his way to pamper her.
But I've never appreciated it until now, her mind finished. She winced, trying to free herself from memories of both the men in her dream. The task quickly proved impossible, however. With a sigh, she plugged her nose and submerged her head completely, as if the air itself plagued her mind.
What am I doing here? She wondered to herself, enjoying the sensation of being completely weightless when above-water her head felt like it was weighted down with little pieces of lead. I should be at home, with maids tending to my every whim. I'd be on my feet just as quickly as if Erik tended me, and I wouldn't cause him any trouble. She resurfaced when her lungs began to burn, blowing out through her mouth and creating little ripples in the water, sending the rose petals dancing across the surface. She watched them, fascinated, until they grew still again, then she tilted her head back against the tub, closing her eyes. Nadir had been quite right; the cramping had eased significantly, and the steam radiating from the water also soothed the slight cough she'd developed over the past few days. She had not felt so healthy and rejuvenated in weeks.
Minutes slipped by as she relaxed, her eyes lightly closed, trailing her fingers through the water. When it occurred to her that Erik would return at any moment, her eyes suddenly snapped open, and she glanced feverishly into the main room. The rest of the lair was quiet, but that meant nothing; Erik moved like a panther, and often announced his presence in a most disconcerting manner. She shuddered, placing a hand self-consciously across her chest and curling her knees up to her stomach. She didn't know if she could tolerate being carried to bed, completely naked, by Erik. Raoul's watchful eyes still lingered beneath the surface of her mind. Squeezing her own shut, she reluctantly pushed herself forward and climbed from the comfort of the tub to stand in the frigid air. She looked around the bathroom fruitlessly for any sign of a towel, little streams of water cascading from her damp curls onto the stone floor. Finally she grabbed the blanket from where she'd discarded it near the door and dried herself off with it.
Still shivering, goose bumps trailing down her bare limbs, Christine wrapped her arms tightly across her chest and peered cautiously into the main room again. There was still no sign of Erik. Taking a deep breath, she suddenly bolted forward, racing across the room and up into the safety of her bedroom before collapsing in a ball on her swan bed. Her muscles screamed in agony, and she whimpered softly as she lay perfectly still, waiting for the pain to ebb. Gradually the searing cramps left her throbbing muscles, and she stood gingerly, taking slow, easy steps toward her armoire.
Her features twisted in an expression of disgust as she discovered the floor still covered in her own blood and vomit near her wardrobe. She choked back the urge to retch again, plugging her nose and sidestepping the mess. Her clean chemise and dress were still laid out across the divan, and she retrieved them, along with another corset, before hurrying back to the other side of the room, where the stench was much less noticeable.
Erik is going to kill me, she mused as she pulled the chemise over her head. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Oh yes, he would undoubtedly rage and fume because she was, God forbid, capable of taking care of herself. Well, let him throw his little temper tantrum. She was perfectly able to put on her own clothes, and she would insist when he arrived that from now on...
Right on cue, she heard a distinct thud from the bathroom, followed by Erik's frantic cry, "Christine!" She quickly finished tugging the corset over the top of her chemise, and turned to smile nonchalantly at him as he burst through the curtain.
"Right here, Erik," she said sweetly, reaching behind her back to begin lacing up the corset.
As expected, he raced forward immediately to clutch her arm. "What the devil do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
She shrugged. "Getting dressed."
Before she could utter a sound of protest, he scooped her neatly off of her feet and carried her back to the bed. "Oh no you're not." She squirmed in his arms, beating her fists against his firm chest.
"Let—me—go! I'm not a child anymore!"
"Well you're certainly acting like it!"
"Oh, I'm acting like it?" she fumed as he deposited her a bit less gently than before on the bed.
"Yes!" he insisted, sitting on the edge of the bed to block her from getting up. "As a matter of fact…" He dodged her flying fists and grabbed her wrists, pinning them down on the bed. "You are!" He glared down at her stubbornly, and she returned the expression, panting hard as she tried unsuccessfully to squirm out of his strong grasp. "Which part of 'bed rest' didn't you understand?"
"I'm fine!"
He sighed sharply. "Which explains why I had to carry you, unconscious, soaked in your own blood, to Nadir's house?" He eyed the puddle in the far corner of the room pointedly.
Christine rolled her eyes, but ceased to struggle as her body was racked with violent coughs. Erik allowed her to raise one hand to cover her mouth, his eyes softening as she curled up in pain. To her surprise he released her entirely and swept out the door.
"Stay there!" he called over his shoulder, just as Christine began to stand up again. She sighed wearily and lay back down; there was no sense in fighting him. She had to choose her battles. Minutes ticked by, and Christine was just about to get up to investigate Erik's whereabouts when he reappeared through the curtain, carrying a steaming mug. He handed it to her with the simple instruction of "Drink this."
She eyed the substance for a moment, and sniffed it experimentally. "Tea?"
"Verbascum thapsus, Tussilago farfara, Althaea officinalis, and Pimpinella anisum." At her blank gaze, he sighed and nodded. "Demulcent tea. Should help with the cough."
"Ah." Christine coughed into the back of her hand and took a delicate sip from the proffered mug. She could feel the hot remedy slide all the way down her throat and pool in her stomach. Within moments she had drained it all, and she handed the mug back to Erik, blushing slightly at his intense gaze. "Thank you," she said softly. He accepted the cup, but did not move from her bedside, nor break eye contact. Her blush only deepened as she lowered her eyes. "Erik… I'm sorry for lashing out at you."
He eyed her severely for another moment before dropping to his knees. His posture was a bit friendlier, but the guarded look didn't leave his eyes. "You didn't harm me."
She bit her lip, fidgeting with a corner of the bed sheet. "I just… I didn't…"
"Want my assistance," he finished for her.
"Want to be any more trouble to you," she corrected.
She was surprised to find, as she looked up into his face, that Erik's eyes were filled with a deep pain. He shook his head slowly, his gaze never faltering. "You are no trouble to me, Christine." She shivered slightly as he rolled the "r" of her name, but covered up the movement by pulling the sheets up to her chin. He stiffened slightly at the gesture and rose to his feet, the guarded expression returning instantly. "Get some rest now."
She was only too happy to comply. The soft velvet beckoned to her heavy head, and Erik's herbal tea had already loosened some of the pressure in her chest. Worn out from her exertions, she was asleep within moments.
A/N: Notice that I end a lot of Christine chapters with her going to sleep? Haha. Meh, she's sick, so I'll forgive myself. This is going somewhere, people, I promise! My cousin and I laid out the next 35 chapters or so yesterday. It'll be fuuun!