The only thought that permeated Christine's mind was the skin-biting cold that now surrounded her. The chill of the icy waters had shocked her system and knocked the breath out of her as all warmth was pulled into the waters surrounding her. It was too cold even to think about breathing.
No, it was not the pursuit of air that drove Christine's instincts to find the surface of the lake, but rather the need to escape the acute cold. Her feet quickly found purchase on the lake's bottom and she quickly broke the surface of the lake with a gasp. As she stood shivering in the chest high water, too cold in that moment even to move to shore, she heard a voice ring out.
"Christine!" Erik's voice reached her and carried with it a world of relief. He pushed through the water to her side and grasped her shoulders. "Christine, are you injured?" he asked urgently.
"I'm alright, just cold." She replied through chattering teeth "My God, I never thought that there would be anything in this world colder than Sweden in winter."
"Forgive my boldness, but you are chilled to the bone." He replied as he pulled her close and began to make their way through the water to the shore.
The short walk back to Erik's house seemed to last a lifetime to Christine. Never before had she been so thoroughly frozen. I'll never have cause to complain again when the fire takes a while to start, Christine dryly thought. The heavy, now waterlogged, overcoat and cloak Erik insisted she wear only made the chill worse, pulling any stray body warmth away from Christine.
Finally, the pair came to the house. Christine had never before been so grateful for the comforts of civilization. Erik helped her remove the soaked coat and cape, and said "Even if I live under the opera, I have a fully functioning bathroom. Please draw yourself a bath so you don't become ill after that accident. I'm afraid I don't have any women's clothes in my possession, but I'll leave my robe on the sofa for your use. Feel free to use anything I have. I'll go up to your dressing room and fetch you some warm clothes."
Christine bit her lip. It was lovely of Erik to offer to do such a thing for her, but he was forgetting to attend to his own needs.
Christine studied the organ behind Erik with great interest as she quietly said "Erik, you are drenched as well. I… I would not want you to become ill yourself on my account."
Erik snorted. "Christine, all I need is a change of clothes and I'll be fine. You on the other hand are soaked to the skin. I will not have us triumph before all of Paris only to lose it all over a cold. Please ensure this does not happen and take a bath." He gave a tight shrug. "Besides, I'm used to the cold of the caves." He stood firmly, looking down at her, as if daring her to oppose him.
It was too trivial of a matter to argue over and Christine was too uncomfortable to care. If he wanted to make himself sick, that was his affair, not hers. She quietly nodded and began to walk towards the back of the house.
The bath was heaven on Earth. Christine could not remember a time where the warmth of the water had been so satisfying. But it was over far too soon for Christine. As much as she would have liked to, she could not spend an extended period of time in the warm water and she did not want to be caught in such a compromising position when Erik returned.
With a sigh, she stepped out of and drained the bath, wrapped a towel around herself, and went to fetch the robe. As promised, a luxurious robe hung over the back of the sofa which Christine held up for examination. As with anything Erik possessed, it was finely made, some Eastern design that Christine could not recognize. She eagerly wrapped herself in it, relishing its warmth. Standing in a warm house after a refreshing bath, wrapped in a snug robe… This was the picture of comfort for Christine, with one exception. Although Erik's home was quite cozy, it was still situated inside a cave. The stone floor was only slightly warmer than its counterparts outside and had the effect of ice on Christine's bare feet. She went to check and see if her socks had dried out, but to her dismay she found them still damp. She hated to intrude on Erik's kindness further, but the discomfort of cold feet was great. Besides, she argued with herself, he said himself the last thing he wants is for me to catch cold and he told me to help myself to anything.
Timidly, she approached Erik's bedroom. She pushed the door open, and tentatively walked in. She did not have much of a chance to examine it before the incident with the wire. Staring down at her on the wall directly opposite the door was a huge musical stave complete with notes. With a start, Christine recognized it as the Dies Irae. A strange choice for a bedroom by any stretch of the imagination. A strange choice for a strange man.
Directly below this he placed his bed. It was a beautiful thing, carved to resemble a swan. Standing in the corner was an architect's desk, surrounded by piles of discarded designs and half completed sketches. The entire room, barring the wall that held the music, was hung in thick red drapery, casting the room in a sensual glow. Suddenly struck with embarrassment, Christine strode over to a nearby dresser and hastily began to look for the much needed socks. Thankfully, she was not too long in doing so and found the socks with relative ease.
She began to make her way towards the door, but in her haste, the side of the robe brushed against the drapings. She turned to make sure that she had not upset them too bad and went to make sure they were in place. As her fingers grasped the fine material, she realized that the space behind one of the curtains was empty.
Hesitantly, she pulled it back the fine material and peeked inside. Indeed, there was a hidden alcove. She let the curtain fall and quickly stepped back. Erik was full of secrets. Was there no place he touched that did not hide something? What secrets could this possibly hold? Could it be a clue to better understanding this man who simulously thrilled and frightened Christine? Or could it be something horrible such that Christine wished that she had never looked.
Caught in a battle between her curiosity and better judgment, Christine contemplated the potential consequences for her actions. Erik had been gone now for quite some time and if he happened to come back now, she would be caught in an awkward position. But then again, she could always use the socks as an excuse. She knew that if she did not look, she would be forever wondering what Erik took such pains to hide. This was the decisive move in her internal debate and she went to take a nearby candelabrum to better see in the dim light.
Christine steeled herself for whatever she might find and pulled back the curtain. For a wild instant, she thought she saw a ghost. A white figure, almost luminescent in the dark, floated in the darkness. Intrigued, Christine drew closer to the figure. To her horror, incriminating details made themselves known with the illumination of the candles. An intricate wedding dress stood before her on a mannequin. A dark brown wig, curled so that resembled her own hair, was perched on the figure's head, and painstakingly painted on its face were blue eyes, closely resembling her own. Shocked, Christine dropped the candelabrum. The full weight of realization hit her with the force of being struck and she grasped the wall in support.
My God,-I've fallen in a madman's trap.
Breath became scarce as Christine began to hyperventilate.
So this is why he brought me here. To give the underworld a queen. Hades needed a Persephone.
She did not know how long she stood here, gasping for breath, staring in horror at what fate had in store for her. As long as Christine was below the Earth, she was entirely in Erik's power. Her only chance was to somehow, anyhow, charm him into letting her go. Then she could forget the Angel of Music entirely and try to live a normal life.
Collecting herself, she picked up the now extinguished candelabrum, and just before she let the curtain fall, she took a second look at the bride. Its pale arms seemed to stretch out before her, as if beckoning Christine to the fate which lay before her. Filled with fresh horror, she dropped the curtain and ran into the light of the parlor to await Erik's return.
A/N: Thank you SO MUCH to the people who have reviewed! It means the world to me and gives me the motivation to update, more or less, weekly. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! I've been waiting to write this since I started my fic and I'm so excited to have finally posted this!