I don't think that I really have anything to explain for this chapter... I hope that you enjoy reading and please take the time to send me a review or PM with your questions and/or comments. :)

Chapter fourteen: The Illness

Christine sat by the edge of the lake, staring down at her reflection. Why did she bother coming back? No one was forcing her to return, so what had compelled her to come back? She had so much freedom when she was out on the surface. What if she would never be able to enjoy those freedoms ever again? For how long had she unknowingly agreed to submit herself to being Erik's underground slave? Oh, if only Raoul were there… He would surely know what to do. Raoul always seemed to know just what to say and do to cheer her up. He seemed to understand her perfectly. She heaved a sad sigh. Was she really destined to be nothing but the little wife of some madman who had a siren in his lake and who feared a tiny kitten and who saw her as no good for anything besides keeping the house and raising children. How could the same man who had given her so much power before suddenly take it all away and expect her to be nothing more than a humble servant in his home? How could it be the same man who had given her so much hope be so shallow as to crush all of her dreams in a single blow? She allowed a tear to roll off of her ivory cheek and fall into the ominous black waters of the lake. Her reflection was scattered by the ripples from her fallen tear. She watched as the tiny ripples grew and spread out encompassing the entire lake. She marveled at how such a small tear could cause such a commotion that it disturbed the entirety of that vast aquatic world. Her reflection reformed in the water in front of her and she stared at it once again. What could Erik possibly see in her that made him fall so madly in love with her? There was nothing extravagant about her. She did not come from a wealthy family. She was just a plain, poor, Swedish orphan girl. She dipped her hand in the water, but she felt something brush against it and quickly withdrew her hand. A figure rose from the water. It was the body of a woman. She had bluish gray skin and long ebony hair. Her body was very trim and her soaked, flowing hair clung to it. Her face seemed to be completely expressionless except for a searing hatred burning in her piercing blue eyes. At her hips, her skin began to flake out and form shimmering scales which shined a deep evergreen colour. Her fingers were very slender and webbed. She rested her bony hands on the deck where Christine sat.
"Why do you disturb my resting, girl?" the ghastly woman hissed.
"I did not mean to, Madame," Christine stammered. "Please forgive me. I was just sitting by the lake and…"
"Silence! You are not welcome here, trespasser. These waters belong to my master."
"Then you must be the siren that Erik told me about…"
"I am she, and you are not welcome here. My master gave me strict orders not to allow any soul who dares to wander upon his home to live another moment after."
"But I am not intruding. Erik invited me here…"
"Do not call him Erik. No mortal woman should ever be given the privilege to call my master by his first name."
"But why not? He enjoys being called Erik. I am sure you have a name that you prefer to be called over simply being addressed as 'the siren'."
"I have no name because I require no name. I am the siren of this lake and I am the only siren of this lake. Therefore, I have no need for any name other than the Siren. Besides that, the Master does not need to be troubled with the burden of uttering so many names; especially yours, Mademoiselle Christine. The last thing that the Master needs is to be thinking about marriage!"
Christine couldn't help but to stumble back a bit, nearly knocked over by the rage exerted by the Siren.
"Marriage!" Christine stammered. "I thought that I had made it perfectly clear to Erik that I have absolutely no intention of marriage. Look, I am very sorry if you feel that I am interfering with any relationships that there may be between you and Erik, but you must know that I have wanted absolutely nothing to do with any of this. It is not my fault if Erik has fallen in love with me and I fully assure you that I have absolutely no intention of ever marrying him.
"You lie," she hissed.
"I am not lying," said Christine, now in tears. "I do not love Erik and I am not here by choice. Yes, Erik is a very close friend, but he is nothing more. My heart already belongs to another man."
The Siren was about to remark upon this, but there was a click as the door handle began to turn, so she quickly dove and splashed away. Christine could feel the icy water droplets from when the Siren had dived hit her face as Erik stepped out of the house on the lake. He went up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders and she leaned back against his body for comfort. He ran his fingers through her soft blonde curls.
"Look…," he said to her softly, "I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. I know that I have been forcing all of this stuff about having children on you all at once. I realize that you are a bit young to have to be considering such things and I apologize."
"It is fine, Erik. I just want you to realize that I have not yet agreed to marriage and that I was hoping that, when I do marry, I would be able to enjoy married life a bit before thinking of things such as children… Oh, Erik… I just…"
Christine sighed.
"I understand," he said. "I don't want to rush you into anything, but you must come to realize that I am not a young man any more. I don't have much time left. All I am asking is that you consider the possibility. But whatever you choose, just always remember that I love you and that I respect your opinion and decisions no matter what happens… Come inside now, dear. It's getting late and you should really get to bed."

It was a little after noon the next morning in the little house on the lake. Erik sat in the dining room, alone at the table. He sipped a cup of coffee and glanced over at the clock.
"Where could she be?…"
He sat and waited. Another half an hour passed by. He tapped his fingers on the table. Finally, growing impatient, he left the table and headed to the Louis Philippe room.
Erik opened the door, and when he found Christine, he was mortified at what he saw. She was so pale that he could almost see his reflection in his colourless skin. Her eyes had lost all of their sparkle and her normally rosy lips were drained of all of their colour. He would have thought that she was dead if it were not for her barking cough.
"Christine! Are you alright?"
Christine closed her eyes sadly and opened the hand which she had been coughing into. She showed it to Erik and to his horror, he found that it was covered in blood.
"Oh no… Tell me what happened. How do you feel?"
She tried to speak to him, but her voice was so hoarse that he stopped her.
"Don't speak," he said. "It will only make it worse. Just rest, and I'll figure out what to do. Are you hungry? Thirsty? I'll go make you some tea with honey. The honey will be good for your throat. Wait here; I'll be back with your tea."

A couple of minutes later, Erik came back into the Louis Philippe room carrying a silver tray on which was a porcelain tea pot and cup. He poured some tea into the cup, blew on it, then handed in to Christine. She took it from him, but refused to make eye contact with him. It was almost as if she was ashamed to take it from him. Erik sensed that she was troubled, and so he set the tray down on the chest of drawers and sat down at her side on the bed. She turned away, still refusing to look at him.
"Christine…"
He placed an arm on her shoulder, trying to comfort her, but still nothing. Very gently, he turned her face toward him and found that she was crying.
"Christine, what is the matter?… You're going to be fine, alright? We'll work our way through this… Look, I don't know why you're sick, or what's causing you to suddenly become all emotional like this, but I want to be able to help you…"
Just then, an idea entered his mind. He went over to the vanity and grabbed a few sheets of paper and a pencil, then returned to Christine's side.
"Here," said Erik. "Since you are unable to speak, write what it is that you desire to say on this. Now please tell me; why the sudden urge for seclusion?"
Christine took the paper and pencil and began to write. After a few minutes, she handed the sheet of paper back to Erik.
"You no longer have any use for me," she wrote. "Without my voice, I am nothing more to you than a little bird with a broken wing who ha forgotten how to sing…"
"That's not true!" said Erik, now nearly in tears himself. "Christine, I love you – with or without your voice. What kind of man would I be if I were so hypocritical as to shun a woman who was ill and lost her voice and yet still expect her to be able to accept my face as hideous as it is?… There's more than just that troubling you, isn't there?"
Christine nodded and sighed.
"Perhaps there's something that you would like to tell me about the events which took place during the couple of days in which I allowed you to return to your dear old Mamma Valerius?"
Christine hesitated, but she nodded.
"Something involving a certain young man of whom I know that you are very fond of."
She bit her lip and turned away.
"Tell me," he said, shoving the paper and pencil back toward her. She took them and began to write. This is what she said:
"I did not mean for things to turn out the way that they did, Erik. It started out as simply Monsieur de Chagny coming over to pay a visit to Mamma Valerius. He was not aware that I was at home, and I was not aware that he was coming. Things began fine, we were both happy to see eachother, but then he started talking about things that he shouldn't have known about. You at the masked ball, the ring that you gave to me… And then he mentioned you, Erik, and he knew your name. I was afraid for both him and for you. The only way that I could make him leave was to promise him that I would meet him the next day and to spend a bit of time with him. I know that you strictly forbade me from any type of rendezvous with him, but it seemed harmless enough. It had been such a long time since we had spoken to eachother face-to-face, that I suppose I just wanted the comfort of seeing an old friend again. So the next day, the two of us went out to lunch together, took a nice walk, and then went to his house after dark and shard a bottle of wine on his balcony. It was a bit of a tender moment so I kissed him and the next thing I knew it was morning and I was lying in his bed."
Erik shot Christine a glare and she shrunk a bit.
"Christine," he said, "I specifically told you to stay away from this man and not only did you disobey me in that, but then you go and stay the night in his room as well! I thought that I cold trust you. I mean, I had come to expect this much from a man lie him, but to know that you willingly submitted yourself to all of this… Why, the very thought of such a thing is simply horrific. Christine, I am afraid that you leave me no choice. This man is a dangerous threat to both of us and I think that it is about time that I put an end to it."
Christine clasped his arm and shook her heard despairingly. By then, the tears streamed down her ivory cheeks. Erik looked into those sorrow-stricken eyes and began to shake all over like a leaf.
"Please don't cry," he said, softly. "I can't bear to see you cry like that. Please, Christine, you must realize that it causes me infinite pain to see such sorrow and suffering come from you… What ever happened to that sweet, charming young lady I used to tutor in her dressing room and who would so endearingly call me her Angel of Music? I miss her, Christine… Would it be too much to ask you to atleast pretend to be happy here with me? I know that you're a much better actress than this…"
Erik sighed.
"Look," he continued, " that man isn't right for you anyway. He's far too wrapped up in politics to ever be able to love you the way that I can. Mary me, Christine. Marry me and I shall prove it to you. I can make all of your dreams come true. I can make you the greatest star in all of France. I can see to it that you are decked in the finest of jewels and clothed in the richest of garments. Name your slightest fancy or whim and I shall be there to cater to it. If you wish to travel the world, I'll carry you to every far off, exotic land on my back. If you want a castle by the sea, I shall build it there with my bare hands, every detail done exactly to your specifications. If you wish to become Queen of the Earth and all of the Heavens, I'll sell my soul if it means making you happy, and lay there at your feet as your lowly servant and husband. Marry me, Christine. Say that you'll love me and marry me."
He had become so madly delirious in his love for her, that he began to shake her frantically. Christine was dumbstruck with terror, unable to muster the courage to even breathe. There before her was that hellish nightmare of a face. That withered, sunken skull with those deep, hollow eyes that seemed ready to consume her. She could feel his hot, damp breath on her face. Why had she come back? She should have run away and eloped with Raoul when she had the chance… Finally, Christine took a deep breath and with all of the courage of which she was capable, removed the ring that Erik had given to her previously and threw it at full force across the room. Erik looked at where the ring had stricken the wall and then looked back at Christine in disbelief.
"It is over," Christine thought to herself. She knew that her only hope of ever escaping Erik and to ever know that both she and her belovèd would be safe from him, was to find Raoul and when the moment was right, to run away.
Erik's face grew red with fury.
"I didn't want to have to do this, Christine, but it would appear that you have left me no choice…"
He grabbed her swiftly and firmly and shoved a handful of small, round, white pills into her mouth. Christine could feel her head spinning and her surroundings become an incomprehensible blur as she slowly drifted into an unconscious state of being.

It was a few minutes later when Erik went outside and knelt down before the lake. He looked down at his reflection in the water and sighed. He was not at all pleased with the half-formed face of a man which stared back at him, but what could he possibly do to fix it? H knew in his heart that it was the only thing keeping him and his belovèd Christine apart, no matter how many times she denied to him that it was true. If only he could just create a new face to wear rather than hiding behind some hideous mask… But alas, life was not all so simple as that. Ashamed of his own ugliness, he smacked at his terrible reflection with his hand and masked himself. The ripples spread slowly across the startled surface of the lake, and after they had finally reached the opposite shore, slowly the Siren began to rise from the inky waters. She saw Erik sitting there as a tear trickled down the cheek of his mask.
"What could ever be the matter, dear Master?" she cooed softly.
Erik looked up as she swam closer to him. He reached a soggy hand out of the water and gently placed it on his.
"Oh, it's just you…," he said in a tired voice.
"Yes, it is me, and I am here to make things feel all better. Now, tell me what is wrong, my belovèd Master."
"Well… It's Christine… I don't know… It's just that… well… things between the two o us haven't exactly been peachy keen…"
"Do tell me more, Master…"
"Well… I had asked her about her trip to the surface and after a bit of prying found out that she had been spending a lot of time with her dear old friend, Monsieur le Vicomte de Chagny. I spoke to her a bit more and found out that after a stroll though the park and a candle-lit dinner, they went over to his brother's mansion, shared a bottle of wine, got a bit tipsy, and in short, she ended up spending the night with him in his bed wearing nothing but a chemise and pantaloins…"
"Oh my! And I thought that things were going so well between you and your hot young lady friend," she said with a sarcasm which he was unable to detect. "What ever could have gone wrong between the two of you?"
"Well… Things between us just got a bit bitter this morning with me finding out about her little rendezvous and... well..."
Unable to complete his sentence, he pulled the plain gold ring from his pocket.
"Oh, Erik... Things like this happen all the time in relationships. Perhaps it is just not meant to be."
"That's not the only thing though... When she gave me back the ring... well... I was upset and... perhaps I took things a bit far, but..."
"Hush, dear," she said, stroking Erik's cheek gently. "I am sure that whatever it was, she completely deserved whatever it was that you did or said to her. Surely she will be healthy as a horse and on her way out in no time. You can do so much better than that lying, cheating wench..."
Gently, she placed her soggy hand under his chin and slowly took away his black, silk mask to reveal the disfigured death's head that hid behind it. Erik tried to say something to her, but she hushed him and pressed a cold, bony finger to his should-have-been lips, then withdrew her finger and kissed him passionately. It was then, feeling the coldness of her heart pulsing through her veins like the eruption of some icy volcano, that Erik suddenly realized the truth of what had happened. Had she, the Siren, not said that 'she will be healthy as a horse and on her way out in no time'? He had not told her that Christine had fallen ill. She could not have possibly known unless... He pushed her away and stood angrily.
"You had something to do with this, didn't you!" said Erik, fumbling to replace his mask.
"Why, dear master," the Siren said coyly, "what ever could you be talking about? I have something to do with a great many things. You really should be more specific..."
"I never told you anything about Christine having taken ill, so spit it out. What did you do to her!"
"Oh, nothing really..."
"Nothing! The woman that I love appears to be gravely ill. She is paler than a sheet, coughing up blood, has a high fever, and is too weak to even step a foot out of bed, and you have the audacity to claim that whatever it is that you did to her is 'nothing really'! Tell me exactly what you did to her and how to cure it this instant or I swear that there will be more fish than just the prawns I was planning on serving for dinner tonight."
"All right, let us not be too hasty here and do something that we might both regret. If you must know, I slipped her a bit of poison last night when she was sitting out by the lake."
"You did what!"
"Relax. A bit of ordinary tonic should suppress the poison enough for her body to mend itself in a weeks time at the longest."
"You had better hope for your sake that she makes a full recovery."
"Oh, master, if something like that ever happened, then what possible reason could you have for getting rid of me?"
With this comment, the Siren gave a flirtatious smirk and then swiftly swam away.

Erik stepped within the threshold of the house on the lake only to be immediately greeted by a fluffy, purring kitten rubbing against his foot, which he instinctively kicked away.
"Hey, Erik," said Mina. "Where's Christine? I haven't seen her all day..."
"Well... She seems to have... taken ill and... well... I was wondering if you could run into town for me and... well... pick up some tonic for her... I'm going to make sure that she's doing alright..."
Mina stared after Erik as he gloomily headed for the Louis Philippe room. She had never seen him this worried before and she could not help but to wonder exactly how ill Christine really was.

It was a matter of minutes before Mina had made her way to the streets of Paris square and found a small drug store.
"Can I help you?" asked the pharmacist as Mina walked through the front door.
"Yes," she said, glancing around. "I'm looking for a tonic."
"Then you've come to the right place," he replied. "What kind of tonic is it that you are looking for? A tonic to suppress coughs? A tonic for hair growth?..."
"Actually," she interrupted, "I was just looking for a simple nightly children's tonic."
"Oh, well then, here you are," he said, pulling a small bottle of thick, greenish liquid from one of the many medicine cabinets and handing it to Mina cautiously. "That will be three francs, please."
Mina took out her change purse and pulled from it three one-franc coins, then handed them to the pharmacist. He took them from her and turned them over approvingly in his hand.
"Will that be all for you then, Mademoiselle?"
"Yes, thank you, sir," said Mina, making her way to the door.
As Mina was making her way down the street back to the Palais Garnier, she passed by a small shoemaker's shop, and in its window sat a pair of little red shoes which reminded her of a story that Christine had told her on the train while they were on their way to Romania to see her friend, Dracula. It began like this:

Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing.
Her hair was gold as the sun's rays and her soul
as clear and blue as her eyes. She wheedled her
mother, was kind to her doll, took great care of
her frock and her little red shoes and her fiddle,
but most of all loved, when she went to sleep,
to hear the Angel of Music...

She had told Mina that her father used to tell her that story on the beach some evenings when she was very young and that she always though that Lotte was very lucky to hear the Angel of Music when she went to bed at night and that it was the story which first led her to believe in the Angel of Music, and that it was after this story that her father first made her the promise that, when he was dead, he would send to her the Angel of Music.
Mina stared at those little red shoes in the window. The little red shoes of Little Lotte. She knew how close Christine had been to her father, and thought that perhaps a small gift to remind her of him could cheer her up in her time of illness.
Mina stepped inside of the shoemaker's shop. It was ill lit and smelled of metal, leather, and shoe polish. There were shelves everywhere, stacked high with shoes of every size, colour, and variety. At the center was a middle-aged woman in a tarnished brown dress, writing down numbers in a sales book. She heard the door open as Mina entered and looked up from the book, smiling.
"Henry," she shouted, "you have a customer here."
Out of a nearby door came a bearded man with graying hair and a cane. He made his way to the counter and pulled a pair of glasses from his pocket, then proceeded to put them on. He smiled at Mina.
"What can I do for you, Madame?" he asked in a husky voice.
"I'd like to buy those red shoes in the window," said Mina.
The man made his way over to the shop window and took the little red shoes from their resting place, then headed back over to where Mina stood and set them down on the counter before her.
"That will be ten francs," he said.
Mina pulled out her change purse dumped what coins were left into her hand, but there were only eight francs there. She looked at the shoemaker despairingly.
"I seem to be a couple of francs short," she said.
"Well, I'm sorry about that, Madame, but if I gave the shoes to you for any lower price, I wouldn't be making any profit..."
"Don't worry, Mademoiselle," came the familiar voice of a man. "I'll cover the last couple of francs that you need..."
Mina turned around to find Comte Philippe de Chagny standing before her. He took her hand and to it, pressed a friendly kiss. Mina blushed.
"Philippe," she said shyly, "it has been a while..."
"Too long if you ask me," he replied, chuckling and handing the shoemaker the last couple of coins needed. "Where have you been? I haven't seen or heard from you at all since we met at the masked ball."
"Oh, I've been around..."
"How have you been?"
"I've been doing well. And you?"
"I've had a few family issues recently, but other than that, things have been just fine."
"Well... Thank you for helping me out just now."
"It was no problem."
"We should see eachother again sometime."
"We should... Hey! Your birthday is on the thirty-first, correct?"
"Yes."
"Then come to my house that evening and I shall hold a ball in celebration of your eighteenth birthday."
"Are you sure? I mean, I wouldn't want to impose..."
"Oh no, you won't be imposing at all. Feel free to invite your friends and relatives, and anyone else whom you please.
"Thank you, Monsieur le Comte de Chagny. I shall see you then."
"Goodbye, Mina."

It was about six thirty that evening when Mina finally returned to the house on the lake. She entered the Louis Philippe room and was touched by what she saw. Christine was fast asleep in her bed and Erik sat beside her, holding her hand and singing to her softly. On her finger was the gold wedding band. Erik seemed completely unaware of Mina's presence, so she gave a soft tap on the wall. Erik stopped singing, but did not turn to her.
"What took you so long?" he asked, his voice quivering.
"Sorry," she said. "I came back as soon as I could... Is she alright?"
"She is for now. Hand me the tonic."
Mina did as he said and after he had taken the bottle of tonic from her, Erik set it down on the Louis Philippe chest of drawers, and then gently shook Christine awake.
"Christine," he said softly. "Christine, I have some medicine here for you. It's going to help you to get rid of this nasty cough that you have. Now, it's going to taste a bit bitter, but I need you to swallow it cooperatively. Can you do that for me?"
Christine nodded and coughed a bit as Erik reached over onto the chest of drawers and picked up a spoon and the bottle of tonic. He poured the green, syrupy liquid into the spoon and turned back to Christine.
"Now open up wide..."
Christine opened her mouth and Erik quickly shoved the spoonful of tonic into her mouth. She made a face, but managed to swallow it. Erik saw her wincing and picked up the cup of tea that he had poured for her earlier that day.
"Here," he said, handing her the cup. "It's cold by now, but perhaps it can help to wash a bit of the taste of the tonic out of your mouth."
Christine took the cup from Erik and began to sip her several-hour-old tea. Slowly, Mina made her way closer to the side of the bed where Erik sat faithfully beside Christine. She cleared her throat and Christine turned to look at her.
"Christine," said Mina, "while I was in town earlier today, I happened to see something that I thought that you might like in one of the shop windows and... well... this is for you.. I hope that it will be able to cheer you up a bit and perhaps help you to feel better."
She handed Christine the box and Christine proceeded to open the box with great care. When she removed the lid, she saw the little red shoes and began to cry. Memories flooded her mind. She thought of all of the stories of Scandinavia which her father used to tell her as a little child. She thought of those nights that they used to spend together, laying close beside eachother on the straw when they were so poor in Sweden. She thought of the walks on the beach in Perros, singing and playing the violin together, and of that fateful day when there was the strong wind that blew her scarf out into the sea and how she first met Raoul as he shouted to her, "fear not; I shall fetch your scarf from the sea." She thought of the times when she and Raoul would sit on the beach at night and listen to her father's tales of the Angel of Music, and how Raoul would then, endearingly, call her "Little Lotte." She thought of the promise that her father had made to her and of that life-altering night when, all too soon, he was taken away from her. Both overwhelming joy and unendurable pain welled within her young heart all at once. She missed her father so much and yet those shoes, the shoes of Little Lotte, forced her to relive those memories and emotions which she had thought she had buried forever. Christine turned to Mina and faked a smile.
"I thought that you would like them," said Mina, smiling triumphantly.
Christine continued to smile as the two hugged, but the tears still welled in her eyes. Her father's death had been a thing of the past, but as she reflected on that picture of him in her head, lying there, cold and dead, she couldn't help but to wonder if perhaps she could have done something differently that might have been able to save her poor father's life.