Disclaimer: I am neither Andrew Lloyd Webber nor Gatson Leroux.
Author Note: Hey guys, a second chapter in one day! Hopefully that should make up for all the waiting and my inconsistency.
I'll not say much, but a pre-warning that this chapter is very dark, especially towards the end. The rating of this story is a T and I am sure that such a rating is sufficient, but it is rather upsetting. A horrible chapter to write, but Emilian is evil, in such a way that Erik could never be, and that needed to be conveyed.
Nineteen- True Evil
After the morning conversation with Raoul, which had both shocked and scared her, Christine experienced three consecutive days of the very same thing; sewing, silence, a grumpy Pali and a daytime visit from Raoul. It was a strange and almost hilarious thing that Pali's furious face became the wordless signal to her that her Vicomte friend had arrived for their daily conversation, and now she didn't even look at the cackling women in the tent as she strode out with their head high- she knew full well what their dirty minds assumed Christine was doing when she was summoned by Pali, but she couldn't care less what they thought of her, not now. The improvement in her conversations with Raoul was huge- he was far less intense, or strange in his behaviour, and she found herself easily melting into the laughter and jokes, telling him easily all about her feelings and her hopes for the future. He didn't seem to have a repeat of his tormented episode from the first morning, and Christine liked to think that she had helped him to reach a happier place.
The only problem with these carefree visits was that Christine was missing Erik. Dreadfully so. Still, he had not come to see her and it was clear from Raoul's ambiguous words that there was something more to the lack of visitation than simply that he was busy. Her paranoid mind instantly worked itself into a frenzy, deciding that he was purposefully ignoring her, and the feelings that followed that dire conclusion were horrendous.
The decision that he was purposefully avoiding her both was and wasn't the truth; Erik really was terribly busy at the Théâtre de Rue Marché , both he and Nadir working all hours of the day and the night to prepare the venue for the performance and the escape, but he had also chosen to stay away from her. Preparing for the escape and the flee to Paris seemed to have heightened every guilty feeling in Erik's heart, making him feel so sick with the fact he had woven such a great web of lies he knew he would not be able to face her without dissolving into a fit of hysteria. Of course, in this maddened state, it never truly occurred to Erik that whilst he was lost in his frenzy to ready the theatre and submerged in guilt for all his fiddling with the truth, Raoul de Chagny might be doing just the thing he had decided not to do- visiting her.
Still, the days passed with little fretting and languishing, all things considered; Raoul continued to meet with Christine and bring the pointless bouquets of flowers but finally realising that he ought to drop his terrible attempts at flirtatious flattery, Pali spent what felt like his whole life stood outside that very woodland standing guard in case a sadistic gypsy master might stumble upon them, and Erik and Nadir continued to ready the theatre. It was peaceful, for Nadir at least, to be back in an alliance with just one person. He liked being an industrious pair, supporting Erik, laughing and joking with him as they had done all those years ago when it really had just been the two of them. Before opera ghosts and beautiful young women got in the way and complicated everything.
Since the decision had been made to use the mock chandelier as their distraction during the escape, it had become a major problem in itself trying to work out how to safely unhinge the damned thing, so that it would fall when they wanted it to, without killing anyone. It was also a struggle to hide this plan for destruction from the owner of the theatre, and it made anything resembling a test run impossible, as the over excited man would spend his days constantly popping his head in to see what his wealthy customers were up to. The wrought iron light was pathetic in comparison to the chandelier of the Populaire, which had been truly magnificent- like a star or the sun itself, a huge glittering mass of crystal and light. But practically, the Populaire chandelier, due to its decoration, had been far heavier than the measly fixture they had to work with now, and so the pendulum motion towards the stage had been just perfect.
Erik ended up spending almost three hours pacing around the shabby rows of the theatre, scribbling calculations onto a scrap of paper and scratching his head, before finally being satisfied that they could safely unhinge the metal contraption and send it plummeting at Christine on stage without mass murder occurring due to it crushing the audience. Not that Erik would mind terribly if Emilian was impaled...
Once all the calculations were complete, the appropriate ropes rigged up and the trapdoor set for easy descent, Nadir took the chance to drag the stubborn Erik out of the theatre at long last, pressing the first instalment of money into the grubby hands of Monsieur Cartefour and bundling Erik into an awaiting carriage before the man had time to protest. Nadir knew Erik had been using the theatre as an excuse to avoid Raoul and Christine, and enough was enough.
"We have done well to bring the theatre to order within such a short space of time, Erik." Nadir commented as the carriage left the soothing terrain of cobbled streets and started out on a bumpy mud track, the scenery being overtaken by vast greenery. "But there are still many matters to bring to order."
"Such as?" Erik sounded exhausted, his eyes drooping and his shoulders slumped as he leant back into the seat, too tired to care for the gorgeous scenery that was rolling by outside the window. With an irritable sigh, he reached out and harshly yanked the flimsy, translucent lace curtains across the grubby glass, causing Nadir to bite back a complaint. He did not want to anger Erik, not when he was in this mood, grumpy from his refusal to sleep and being an obstinate pig in general, torturing himself with the oddest things.
It was an odd thing, though, that Nadir felt as if the real Erik had resurfaced in recent days. Working the bring the theatre to their desired standards had given him a purpose, something to work for, and amid all the calculations and the decision making, Erik's true genius had been given the chance to come back to use. It had been just like the old days- Nadir watching in awe as Erik solved every problem, exchanging well meant insults and patronising advice along the way. The truly emotional moment had been when, late in the evening, Nadir had decided to check the backstage access. Upon walking into the auditorium, his ears had been met with the glorious, rolling melodies that could only come from Erik and a piano- he would never admit it, but standing and listening to those surging, flowing, luxurious notes had left tears free flowing down his face. Erik had played long into the night, the melodies never ceasing to float from the dark depths of the orchestra pit where he sat and teased the music of heaven from those battered keys, and Nadir stood and listened to every sacred note.
"There are matters of the performance itself that demand our attention, and Christine's too; what she will sing, what she will wear- I gather this is a large consideration for ensuring she resembles a performer and not a tramp- what sort of musical accompaniment she will need-" Nadir paused, worrying what response he might receive for the next question, but knowing that he must ask it, "-and of course, there is the question of what happens afterwards. When we go to Paris."
The sigh that fell from Erik's lips was as melodic and soft as a summer breeze; if Nadir was feeling particularly poetic, he might note the distinct hint of yearning, fading, pining and defeat all in that simple sound, but he preferred not to dwell on such things. The arts were Erik's domain, as were pointless comparisons and descriptions that made his head ache- that did not mean, however, that hearing such a noise didn't make Nadir feel very sad for his friend.
"I think the matter is more the question of if she comes to Paris with us, don't you Khan?" he replied gently, his fatigue making him sound soft and calm. "As for clothes and music and all those details...Christine will need to decide what she wants to do. In fact- I will arrange her clothing and she can pick whatever song she wishes to sing. It only needs to be sufficient to convince that sadist that the whole charade is genuine; considering that he will likely be inebriated, or as thick headed as his delightful father always was, I doubt that we will have much trouble. Then we can watch the horror dawning on his foul face as we ruin everything for him, and trust me Khan, such a spectacle will be far sweeter than any music we create that evening."
"Whatever is the matter now, Erik? Why are you so downcast all of a sudden? I thought that you were back to your old self...ready to rebuild Christine's memories and win her love before even considering what might occur after that?" Nadir asked, his voice saturated with disappointment, which made Erik feel very odd indeed- it wasn't often that Nadir actually conveyed his disappointment.
"I...I just don't believe that I can face her. Not now." Erik replied in a voice that conveyed nothing of how he felt about such a thing. "You see, Daroga, now that I have realised how terribly cruel and manipulative my actions have been, I can think of nothing else. It doesn't matter that I have done such things out of a desire to ensure her wellbeing...I have removed her right to choose. And any bond forged between us at present is false, whichever way you look at it. It is simply a rather hideous thought, that once we get to Paris I am supposed to reveal the whole dreadful truth to her and I am expecting her to be understanding and not mind at all that I have deceived her."
"But surely the very fact you are having these thoughts and torturing yourself over it will show her that all you have done is act out of love and in her best interests. I urge you, Erik, if she does start to remember the past, don't be hysterical or hide away from her- you must show her the depths of your feelings, show her that you only did this out of love and that you will be beside her and helping her to recall every part of the past, good and bad."
Erik laughed under his breath and looked at Nadir as if he were mad.
"Daroga you appear to be working from the presumption that she won't be screaming and hysterical. You can't tell me that you really imagine that she will recall those memories, good and bad, and then simply shrug her shoulders and nothing will change?" he challenged Nadir and, in his usual tortuous manner, himself. "I can tell you exactly what will happen. Firstly, she will be terrified- considering that her nightmares are all centred around me, the real evil, murderous me, I think that fear will likely last a long time. Then, once she has stopped fainting in fright or fleeing for her life, she will remember that she knew me as a man too, that she loved me...and that is when she will also realise that I could have told her everything and saved her from her state of terrified ignorance so much sooner than I did. Then she will feel angry, perhaps let down and disappointed, so she will ask me why I did it. And when I tell her my pathetic reasons, any love she feels or felt for me will disintegrate as she comes to understand how I have used her ignorance to my advantage and played a wicked game without her consent. She will not understand that I could not have told her before, for fear of driving her away or making her think I am mad, or that all my actions were out of some twisted, warped version of love. Because that will be the conclusion she reaches- how could someone who claims to love me use me like this?"
"Erik, you assume far too much." Nadir warned.
"And you know the very worst part of this whole dreadful situation, Khan?" he asked in a voice that sounded almost as if he were about to laugh- Nadir braced himself for whatever bout of hysteria was sure to follow. "The worst part is that this deceit, this web of lies and this use of her ignorance...it is the worst thing I have ever done. I was sane and the closest I have ever been to normal when I chose to take Pali's advice and go down this disgusting path. I have no excuse- this time the evil is truly me! I really am the manipulative, twisted, insane bastard that all of Paris rightly loathed! Because I chose to do this, to inflict this, on the woman I love." He paused and have an odd smile. "I have one of those poetic comparisons for you, the ones you have always hated. Some people are not meant to be happy, Khan- the beast was never supposed to win the beauty. Frost may destroy the delicate rose, but once the cold has been banished by light and warmth, it shall bloom brighter and bolder than before...I am like that frost, Khan! It seems to me that fate has decided I will never be happy with her! I will fight, fight for her with all I am and all I have because I love her, God I love her, but I think that I shall die fighting."
"Gods teeth, Erik, you truly are the most irritating, defeatist block head I have ever had the pleasure of talking to!" Nadir snapped, thrown head first into anger by Erik's stupidity. Three days ago he had been practically the Opera Ghost again, fighting with fire in his eyes, but now he was back to that pathetic wretch who sat around moaning rather than changing things. "Get a grip on yourself and stop being such a melodramatic ass! You seem to forget that she will remember all of her love for you, how she kissed you the night of Don Juan, how she refused to let Raoul and his armed monkeys shoot you, how she spent that year in constant battle with herself, confused as to why she was catastrophically in love with a madman, but being utterly helpless to changing that fact!"
"Khan-"
"No, Erik, for once in your hysterical existence, shut up!" Nadir yelled. "You are right- she will remember that she was engaged to Raoul and that she loved him. She will remember her opera career and all the jealousy from that stupid diva woman. She will remember the Angel of Music singing to her through a mirror and the terrifying myth of the Phantom of the Opera- she will remember your murders and your kidnapping, of how she was terrified. But she will also recall a man, a man called Erik, a man who she loved so very much that she could look past his murderous personality and, in horrific honesty, his disgusting facial deformity! And what then, Erik? WHAT THEN?"
Erik stared at Nadir in mute astonishment. The Persian man stared back, panting from the exertion of his rant, and could not help it when tears leaked out of his eyes.
"You are such a frustrating creature, Erik, you really are." He said thickly, not bothering to wipe the few tears away, because he had already humiliated himself and there was nothing left of his dignity to plummet and smash against the floor.
"You honestly believe that she will understand, don't you?" Erik murmured. "You honestly think that I can live a better life."
"I don't think it, Erik, I know it." Nadir slumped in his seat, exhausted. "And it scares me that you don't know it too."
"Thank you, Daroga." Erik whispered, resembling the young, skinny, deformed man Nadir had been told to capture and kill back in Persia. "Thank you..."
Meanwhile, in the gypsy camp, Christine was working up the courage to ask Pali to send a letter for her. It was no easy thing- the letter itself was a matter of great concern, and the crumpled, untidy, barely legible result she had clutched in her fist was her fourth draft. She still doubted its content and had to forcibly push the thought of writing it again from her mind when Pali at last emerged from his tent, catching sight of her and instantly looking grouchy as he peered defensively around, as if expecting to see Raoul stood there too.
The gypsy's fierce aversion to Raoul was a cause for amusement, so Christine had to struggle not to laugh at him.
"Lovely Mademoiselle, who looks so radiant this fine morning." He trilled, bowing low in what she realised could only be a mocking impression of Raoul- she sniggered before she could help it, earning a wicked grin from the gypsy. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Enough of that, Pali." She cautioned with a smile, glad to see the old mischievous twinkle back in his eyes. It was alarming to remember how truly mad and funny this gypsy had been before all the Emilian worries had begun. Even before that, before Erik had arrived at the clan and before she had been restored to a relative state of happiness, Christine recalled with a guilty jolt that all the girls had giggled with Pali but she had rolled her eyes and tried her best to avoid him and his overzealous humour. "I've told Raoul to stop coming to visit me in the daytime, it was unfair on you. But that does leave me in need of asking you for a favour."
"Oh?" Pali asked suspiciously. "This favour doesn't entail me tripping through some dense woodland in the hope I stumble across your adored Vicomte, to pass on some silly message, does it?"
"No!" she cried, exasperated and going pink at his words- adored? It was more that Raoul seemed to adore her, which was still a shock to her, considering his status and her tramp like appearance. "This favour doesn't concern Raoul- it concerns Erik."
As soon as Erik's name was mentioned, Pali's face lost the defensive mask and he relaxed considerably, grinning and dropping all hints of animosity. Christine shook her head slightly, bewildered and a little frustrated by these men and their behaviour- they were all grown men but at the same time so childish, ruthless and ready to pick sides even though she knew of no reason for them to quarrel. It wasn't even as if Erik or Pali or Nadir knew anything about Raoul- he was a total stranger to them!
"Erik, you say?" Pali smiled, clearly elated that he was not discussing the Vicomte. Christine had a distinct suspicion that Pali would not mind tripping through dense woodland if it was Erik he was supposed to be finding, but she decided not to press the matter. "Well, Christine, of course I am most happy to assist you- especially as you have been so cruelly isolated from Erik recently, given his time spent readying the theatre. You must miss him."
The smile on Pali's face suddenly disappeared and he looked around suspiciously, as if worried that someone might have overheard his words. There was no one there, but with a threat like Emilian, it would be foolish not to be careful- Christine gulped, shaken, and it took her a moment to remember what it was she was meant to be asking.
"I just wondered if you might post a letter for me, Pali, seeing as I have no way of doing so. It's a letter for Erik...to ask him to meet me and speak to me." She explained hastily, unnerved by the fact that Pali's face was still completely serious, and his eyes were still darting all over the place. Had he seen someone? Or was he simply being paranoid, because he knew what Emilian would do should he find out that such smuggling of messages and secret meetings were occurring? She wanted Pali to break out of this scary expression, to laugh at her, to tell her that he was only teasing. But he didn't. "You're right, I do miss him and I...I need to ask him if he will sing onstage with me, and help me escape. I can't do it on my own, really I can't, and I would feel so much better if he were there to help me through it."
The suspicious, serious expression on Pali's face was at last replaced by ecstatic joy, grinning before all the words were even out. He could hardly contain it, the excitement as he considered what Erik's face would look like when he delivered this letter and told him that Christine missed him-! He eagerly took the crumpled little note from Christine's trembling hands, offering her a warm smile to soothe the nerves and wishing that someone could calm him down, as even though he was very happy to hear this news, he felt that odd prickly sensation on the back of his neck that made him feel as if someone's eyes were on him. He didn't like all this creeping around, the nerves, the constant worrying, but if it made Erik a happier person he would be thrilled to help.
"I will take this to him immediately- I should think that they will be coming back to the inn, where they are staying, very soon. I will wait there as long as it takes!" Pali grinned, and was gone before Christine even had a chance to thank him or even say goodbye. She stood dazed and watching him run off for a moment before smiling to herself and walking into the heart of the camp to find the tent where all the women sat and sewed, joining them in their arduous task in silence.
She had been put at ease by Pali's enthusiasm and his optimism, and had complete faith in his ability to be cunning and go unseen, so much so that when two gypsies barged into the tent and forcibly began to drag her through the camp, kicking and screaming, it was a complete shock. She thrashed wildly, like a fish beached in shallow water and trying desperately to get free, and as she saw Emilian's tent loom into view she felt a nauseating swirling motion starting in her stomach. The harsh grip of the gypsies bruised her skin and they threw her down on the floor on the tent with little care or delicacy, making her wince and bite back tears. When Emilian suddenly appeared, standing sneering down at her, she was filled with such extreme emotions of anger, hysteria and fear that she began to laugh as if she were insane. They forced her to kneel at his feet and she wished she had the courage to bring the full force of her curled fist down upon his perfectly placed toes.
Looking up at him, now no longer laughing but trembling so violently her teeth rattled, she willed him to get on with whatever barbaric thing he had in mind, telling herself that if he dared to lay even one finger on her, she would fight back with all her strength, all her power. Not that her strength was much compared to his.
"Ah, if it isn't the little Mademoiselle." Emilian drawled, signalling for the two gypsies to stand back and offering her a hand to help her up off of the floor. She ignored the hand and stood up, hiding her trembling hands by balling her fists and placing them at her sides. "It is lovely to see you again- I feel as if we have been parted far too long. And you are so full of life, so happy...I wonder, why is that?"
"I don't know what you're trying to imply, but I can assure you that I am not guilty of anything." Christine shot back, the words coming out as a hiss. She did briefly glance about her, to see if there were any objects laying around that could be potential weapons, but there was nothing. She did have her fists, if all else failed, but she had never been taught how to use them properly in a fight.
Emilian laughed uproariously, displaying a full set of black stumps and discoloured gums in his repugnant mouth, the foul breath that radiated from that disgusting cavern and the rotting remains of teeth making her want to gag. But she kept her focus, and stared at him levelly, trying to show him that she was not as weak as he might think and that she could be a force to be reckoned with. He merely stared back at her, eyes glinting, completely unfazed.
"Oh my dearest Mademoiselle Daae, I would be so happy to accept that pitiful defence, but first I need you to explain something to me." Emilian made his request sound reasonable, even amiable, and as he took a step closer to her Christine found that his calm manner only multiplied her fear. She began trembling again, wishing that Erik could somehow burst in and end this, but that was impossible- she had to survive this time on her own. "I shan't keep you long- just explain to me why one of the members of this clan came to me today with the observation that you, after a lengthy conversation, gave a letter to our dear friend Pali? Presumably he was instructed by you to take that very note to someone outside the camp. Oh, dear Christine, don't pull that face- you didn't really think that this would go unnoticed?"
Christine wanted to vomit she felt so scared, her stomach clenching in agony and her ears ringing. She stumbled a little- so someone had seen her hand a letter to Pali. No matter how discreet she had tried to be, someone had still seen- thank goodness Raoul had not decided to come visiting today! There was no room to dispute the claim Emilian had so calmly explained to her, no chance of persuading him that this tale he had heard was fictitious. Swallowing the acidic bile that collected in the back of her throat and tossing her curls back, Christine decided she had no choice but to take on this challenge of his. She tightened all her muscles, so that he would not see her trembling, and then forced a laugh past her gritted teeth.
"And? You saw me sending a letter- what of it?" she tried to sound cool, calm. Oddly, she managed to sound genuine, and this relaxed her a little. "A long standing admirer of my singing sends me notes from time to time, love letters if you can call them that. I respond when I can be bothered- you cannot object to that, Emilian, surely?"
"No. No, Mademoiselle Daae, I cannot." He said, sneering as he spoke her name in retaliation for her using his. "I only have one concern, regarding your innocent tale...where once I would have been happy to accept your version of events, now I am not so easy. You see, my dear, ever since I returned to this clan I have noticed things, changes... things are not the way they were when I left, and the only new addition to our collective, and thus the only person who could possibly cause such unrest, would be you. Something is brewing, trouble, unease- old friends seem hostile, the hierarchy is disrupted. I have even heard whispers that we were, for a month or two, joined by travelling musicians! As if we were some travelling circus!"
Christine fought to hide even the slightest flicker of emotion, even though her heart suddenly squeezed tight at the mention of the 'travelling musicians', knowing that they were Erik and Nadir. She was trying to contain her feelings so desperately that when Emilian suddenly reached out and held her face with one cupped hand, his eyes boring into her own, she didn't even respond.
"It may surprise you, Mademoiselle Daae, but this clan was not always a happy place. We were a small group of impoverished nomads, without money or skill or purpose in life. But then a few, a brilliant few, including my father, decided that we should take ourselves out of the gutter! That we should seize the chance to make something of our lowly existence!" he whispered the tale, his eyes wide and clearly in awe of his father. "My father's greatest triumph was a certain exhibit, an exhibit which would make your blood turn cold in fear and your heart tremble with disgust and loathing for such an animal, a monster. But this great triumph of his, in the end, was his undoing. The foul creature is responsible for such ruin, such pain, and no one expected it- it was a threat no one saw coming. You, my darling soprano, are a hidden threat just like that beast and that is why I will not settle for your wild claims of love letters- ha! Love letters?! You're a disgusting tramp, more like a prostitute- who would do anything but use you for pleasure and then discard you like the piece of filth you are?!" his voice had become wild and angry, but he stopped then and leaned in closely, his tone dulling down to barely a murmur. "Tell me who you were sending letters to, Christine Daae. Or shall I make you tell me?"
"I do not know what it is you want me to say- I am telling the truth! It was an admirer I was writing to!" Christine exploded, and for a moment she thought that she might have just managed to convince him- but then his grip on her face became like stone, hard and cold, and she began to shake and struggle to get free.
"Wrong answer, my girl." He intoned darkly, and suddenly before she could speak anything else in her own defence or appeal to him to let her go, a slap came sailing through the air and collided with her face. She gasped in pain, tears leaping up in defiance. "I will get the truth out of you, Christine, not matter what I must do. I have endless hours to waste upon you and your filthy lies, Mademoiselle, and believe me; I will get what I want."
"I wouldn't be so sure." She murmured softly, but he must have heard her, for he snapped something at the two men standing by and in the next moment Christine felt herself being pushed to kneeling at Emilian's feet again, her head being wrenched backwards as hands tugged at her thick, unruly curls, her scalp burning. Emilian leant in close again, taking her face in his grip and ensuring that all his talon like nails dug in to the delicate skin.
"This is your last warning. Tell me the truth or I will make this painful." He hissed at her, spittle hitting her face.
"Go ahead, you bastard. Just try and get what you want from me!" she challenged, the adrenaline pumping round her body making her head pound. He was silent for a moment, silent with fury, and then suddenly she felt herself being pushed to the ground, until she was lying there, so much pressure being put onto her body it felt as if Emilian were trying to push her into the earth to leave an imprint. She had no idea what it was he was doing, feeling dizzy with the courage and the joy of having stood up to him, knowing she would bear whatever pain he inflicted, that she would win this time-
But then Emilian moved her arms to above her head and, still holding her down, began to lift the tatty skirts of her dress. The realisation of what he intended to do to punish her, of how far out of her depth she truly was, made her start to scream in blind panic, refusing to stop screaming until one of the gypsies standing by gagged her with a wad of cloth that no matter how she tried she could not spit out. In the fierce struggle that followed, her nose somehow was hit and it started to bleed everywhere, but she did manage to head butt at least one of the men, although eventually they overpowered her and tied her wrists together with coarse rope, making the skin burn as she fought to get free.
Now that she was tied up and whimpering softly, Emilian ceased to be violent. He looked at her, his eyes trailing over her in such a way that made her feel exposed and dirty, and then he leaned in and started to kiss her. She began to cry hot tears as his lips moved over her face and down her neck, his hands opening the top of her dress to reveal more skin, which was where his lips moved to next. Christine was sobbing with fright, so overcome with fear and hatred that she could feel herself going limp and on the verge of fainting, feeling no pleasure as he began to softly stroke her cheek, his hands actually wiping away her tears with gentle murmurs for her to calm down.
He bellowed at the two men to leave them, and once they had gone, he leaned in closely to her and kissed her forehead.
"Christine, Christine, this could be so much easier for you." he whispered to her, and she squeezed her eyes shut to block him out, not wanting to hear him or see him or know that he was there. She could feel his breath on her face, his hands on her, his lips almost touching her. It was hideous, horrific, and she couldn't stop the tears. "You can just tell me the truth and this will all end. You can even cease to be a threat to me- join me. Become a true member of this clan, this life- let me trust you and then the suffering can end." He stroked her face again. "Wouldn't you like that? Wouldn't you like me to protect you, to care for you, to hold you like this, to touch you like this-" he stopped suddenly, his hand moving to her knee and caressing there instead. "I know all about you, Christine Daae. I know all about your preference for violent passion, for a man who is a monster. I know you are enjoying this."
"The only thing I want is for you to be dead." She whispered, feeling his grip tighten and knowing that this was it. She squeezed her eyes shut as tight as she could, tears leaking down her face silently, and she waited for it to happen. But instead of the dreaded thing, a female voice suddenly cut through the horror.
"Emilian! What are you doing?! You can't do that, not like that!"
Christine's eyes flew open in shock, hearing Adriana's voice, the last voice she would have expected to hear. She saw the look of fury on Emilian's face, staring down at her, and she turned her head to look at the gypsy woman instead, begging her with her eyes to help her. Adriana looked horrified, taking in the scene, and her eyes flickered to Christine's, answering the silent plea.
"Get out, woman, can't you see that I'm busy?!" Emilian growled, but Adriana merely stepped into the tent properly, walking over to where they were sprawled, and in an act Christine could not comprehend, Adriana put her hand on Emilian's shoulder.
"Please, Emilian, don't do this. Why would you waste your time on some filthy rat like her- why would you force her company when you could have mine?" she said in a soft voice, and Emilian allowed Adriana to slowly pull him back from Christine. Once the gypsy was off of her, she knelt beside her and untied the rope at her wrists and took out the gag, briefly touching Christine's face with a gentle hand, her eyes ancient with sadness. She helped Christine to stand up, shakily, and murmured in her ear- "You were right- you aren't a gypsy whore like me. Get out before that changes."
Christine didn't have the time to thank the girl- before she knew it, she was being shoved out of the tent, into the fresh air and the daylight, away from him and his dominant need and his fear tactics. She began to run, stumbling through the camp, not knowing where she was going but unable to stop, her legs moving without her even needing to think. She reached the woods, and managed to keep running, until she tripped and went falling to the ground, collapsing there and starting to cry as the horror of what had just nearly happened to her penetrated the numb shield around her. So that was what happened if you faced up to Emilian- that was what happened if you dared to play with fire. That had been so close, too close, he had so very nearly gone through with it, if it hadn't been for Adriana, oh God, Adriana-!
The more and more she thought about it, the harder she cried, blood and tears mingling and forming a ghoulish stream down her grey face.
"Erik I need you, Erik please I need you, just take me out of here, get me out of this place-!" she began to sob uncontrollably, ending up just crying his name over and over.
She would have been stuck there, frozen and sobbing, had Pali not been coming back to the camp through the woods in that particular direction. When he found her, and heard the story, she had to beg him not to go straight back to Erik and tell him, so that they might all go on a mission to kill Emilian then and there. She ended up so hysterical that she began to choke on the words as she tried to implore him not to do something so stupid, so he gave up, and carried her to his tent and bathed the wounds with a herbal remedy that stung and made her feel dizzy. She recalled the smell of it, pungent and bitter, from when the gypsies had first taken her in- they had bathed her head wound with that very potion and it made her turn her head and vomit.
"Ssh, ssh, Christine, it's alright. You needn't cry- you're safe, nothing happened." Rose soothed her, stroking her hair and cradling Christine's head in her lap as Pali tried to tuck blankets around her.
"But it did! Adriana-!" Christine wept, but Rose silenced her with a stern look.
"No, Christine, don't think about that. Adriana made a choice to intervene and you should be glad she did, not guilty. Close your eyes my poor, sweet child and do not think about it. Nothing happened, and everything is going to be alright..."
As Rose continued to stroke her hair and Christine continued to weep silently, Pali watched with a grimace, and only remained sitting down and not going to kill the beastly Emilian because he had promised not to do so. The likes of Emilian tainted the gypsy name, the gypsy blood- he was a monster.
There was a small victory from this disaster- Pali had left the note for Erik, which meant the fool would learn of Christine's need to see him and hopefully such a meeting could soon occur. The only worry was that if Erik saw the mess of bruises and cuts that now adorned Christine's poor face, he would demand to know just how such injuries had occurred.
And Pali knew that if Erik ever did find out that Emilian had beaten and tried to rape Christine Daae, there would be no force on this earth that would prevent the bloodshed.