Chapter XLIII
The months that followed them moving into the lair were hectic. Christine was always worried about how they would eat, despite the fact that they had food already. After that phase faded she began to grow upset with Erik whenever he failed to announce himself as he came into the lair. More often then not he was silently in the room with her without her knowing, and when she would hear him she'd scream and panic until realizing it was only Erik. A part of her found it humorous, but a larger side of her found it absolutely terrifying.
The lair was beautiful, it was exactly what she could have ever wanted and more. A wonderful piano sat overlooking the large body of water where the ground lifted slightly. Erik could see everything from there. Christine's room was past a narrow cave and Erik's was in another that was adjacent to her own, creating a fork. The kitchen was not a kitchen in the traditional sense. They used crude materials to cook their food but they loved it all nonetheless. Erik even had an organ behind his Piano which forced him to turn his back on the entrance. He did not like this aspect of it but could find nowhere else to put it. There were two main entrances to the lair - one nearest to the kitchen and one through the river, but there were many canals that would lead to one of these entrances. It was because of this that Erik took Christine in and out of the lair whenever the time came. He did not like to risk her hurting herself because she took a wrong turn purely by accident. There were many traps laid out around their home.
Through the months Erik and Christine rehearsed tirelessly. Erik had become accustomed to their schedule. Every morning Christine woke, she sang her heart out to him, took a rest, ate, and back to singing. On days that she was instructed to rest her voice, three days out of the seven, Erik had her rehearse upcoming plays from the theater above them. At night, when all was silent except for the music above Christine and Erik sat by a makeshift fire in his music room and listened, Christine stood before him and mouthed the words to the opera she had learned while acting out all the speaking roles. She flourished and Erik enjoyed it immensely.
At night, when she slept he went up to the opera house and collected what was owed to him. It had not been difficult to instill fear in them, he had only to threaten them a few times and then follow through on those threats if they thought he was bluffing. Two men had ended up injured because of the Opera Ghost. But Erik explained himself in a note, stating:
If the fault lies with anyone, Monsieur's, it is with you. You have failed to heed my warning and an innocent man had to pay for that mistake with his ankle. I am certain that you will pay for whatever this man needs in the future.
Erik had done the man a favor, he thought to himself, if it were not for Erik the man would not be living as well as he did now with the managers paying for everything he wanted.
Christine on the other hand flowered under his guidance. The opera managers accepted her with full knowledge of her importance to the Opera Ghost. While they remained clueless as to what the details of their relationship they knew only that the Opera Ghost demanded that she be taken in immediately, and it was so. Christine pretended to be ignorant to the situation and did her best when the time came for her to take the stage.
The time they spent in the opera house was filled with amusement, boredom, and also many connections – at least for Christine. She had met Meg Giry, a young dancer who did not look like her mother in the slightest. She had also met Carlotta who was the opera star. She was also Erik's most hated singer, but Christine adored the woman's voice.
"I think you should visit Nadir," Erik told Christine gruffly one evening as he sat at his piano, playing a light tune, "you ears need to be checked."
When it came to Christine relationship with Erik it had taken a strange turn. Erik could not tell if it was for the better or for the worse. Christine had not made any attempts at something other than a lighthearted touch on the hand of a chaste hug since they moved in. He had watched her curiously for the first month, anticipating the day when she would kiss him but it never came. He resigned himself to the fact that Christine's love was only platonic and her kisses had been passionate but not romantic. He dedicated himself to making her the opera star and nothing else, but it did not mean that more often then not his gaze did not linger on her lips, or that at night he did not fantasize about what it would be like to have her in his arms once again.
…
"Are you dense!" Carlotta cried out as Signor Piangi mispronounced the words over and over again.
"Roma! It is very hard for me! Very hard!"
"Rome," Monsieur Reyer told him angrily, "Rome!"
"Poor man," Christine sighed from where she stood with Meg Giry at her side, "it seems that that word will ruin him come show time."
The cast rehearsed the show in it's entirety once more before it came time to rest. Monsieur Reyer was finally pleased and Christine couldn't stop giggling with Meg. Carlotta had taken notice and stomped over to them.
"You laugh at me?"
Meg looked up at the woman with a roll of her eyes and cocked her hip to the left, looking at Carlotta with impatience, "what makes you think we are speaking about you?"
The difference in the two women were striking, where Carlotta was tall, broad hipped and busty, Meg was petite, slim and muscled from dancing. Carlotta's hair was the color of flame and Meg was like that of a wheat field. Where the taller woman's eyes were a jarring green Meg's were a steel blue.
"You look at me and then you laugh!"
"We aren't speaking about you Carlotta," Christine assured her kindly – doing her best to ease the tension between her best friend and the redheaded woman, "we were simply sharing stories of our childhood that is all."
"It had best be all!" Carlotta hissed before turning and stomping towards the back of the stage. Christine bit her lip to stifle laughter. She admired the woman's singing voice but her personality left something to be desired.
"I would love to pull out all that hair on her head," Meg muttered angrily as she picked up her things from the ground, "I would leave her hairless!"
Christine smiled softly and looked up towards the boxes past the stage. She had caught movement and did not doubt for even a second that Erik was watching the entire rehearsal. When she looked she saw no one there, just as she expected, but she knew he was watching. She sensed him like she sensed the wind on her skin.
…
From where Erik watched he could see everything. Christine stood to the right with Meg Giry. Madame Giry stood to the left with some dancers, instructing them. Carlotta could be heard laughing at something even from where he stood. That woman was a nuisance of the worst kind. He despised her.
Christine had flourished underneath his tutoring. And the new found fear that the opera managers had in him made it very easy for them to acquire all that they needed, primarily, money. Madame Giry was in charge of ensuring that Christine had all the clothing that she could want. While there was still something of a street girl left in the young girl she had taken a liking to the luxurious dresses that their money could afford them. Erik himself could not deny that he enjoyed to watch her strut from the bedroom and into his presence, showing off her latest dress. The glow in her eyes gave him life. He had been able to give her this, and soon he would be able to give her more. It was all that she deserved.
Christine had also gained the beauty that was always hiding within her. The first few months of their stay in the opera house Erik had forced her to eat three meals a day. She had not refused in the slightest which made it much easier for him.
Christine's face could light up a stage. She was often smiling now, laughing at everything and taking nothing to heart. Her hair was thickened and grown down her back in luscious curls. She tried her best to tame them but had given it up recently. Her pretty wide eyes were rimmed by thick brown lashes and her face filled out, giving her the lift that her cheeks needed. Rosy colors blossomed upon her face and gave her life. His favorite feature was her wonderfully sloped nose, and of course her wide eyes. But her body had filled out as well. She was a thin woman by nature with a slim waist upon her petite figure. It made her look almost miniature, but there was a strange strength in her her hands that made no sense with the rest of her proportions.
When the rehearsals were finished he smoothly moved through the halls of the Opera Populaire. No one would see him, they were all too frightened to venture without a partner around the halls. And being that it was a rehearsal day he did not need to worry about being seen. Not that he ever did. Not anymore.
…
"You are terrible Meg Giry," Christine laughed as they entered the dressing room. She could not be sure if Erik was watching from behind the mirror but she assumed, as always, that he was.
"She is truly vile," Meg told Christine who was taking a seat on the stool before the mirror. Meg stepped up behind her and carefully removed the rehearsal wig. "Do you not hear her laughing like a crow? She reminds me of a demon."
"She is not all that terrible," Christine defended Carlotta. When one of Meg's eyebrows rose she giggled, "alright, yes. She is fairly vile. But that would happen to any one of us if we were in her position. She is praised from day to night. Of course that sort of power goes to your head."
"It is not an excuse to behave like a haughty little brat."
"Agreed," Christine smiled.
"And besides, I do not think that that would happen to you," Meg told her kindly, hugging her friend from behind. Christine blushed, "you are the kindest soul I have ever known. I do not think that if you were in her position that you would behave as she does. You know what it is to suffer and struggle. Would you take advantage of your position to make others feel terribly about themselves?"
"No, I would not."
'Exactly my point." Meg stood up straight and looked at her friend in the mirror. She had always found Christine to be a fair girl. And still could not understand why it was that she was not engaged to anyone at all. "Christine, why is that you are not in love?"
The question through the brunette off guard. She blinked at her reflection and cautiously turned around. Eyeballing her friend with suspicion, "why do you ask me that?"
"It just seems unnatural that a girl as beautiful as you has not found one man with whom she could spend even half of her time with. Don't you think that a girl as talented, as beautiful, and as intelligent as you would have someone interested in them?" Her eyes widened as she realized what she was saying. "Forgive me Christine, I did not mean to insult-
"No, no," Christine smiled softly, "you have not insulted me Meg. But it is simply that..." she did not know how to explain any of this to her. She did not know how she could explain why she stopped seeing a rich man, a handsome one at that. A kind one as well. And why she was constantly falling deeper in love with a man who lived beneath the opera house, and threatened to kill anyone who disobeyed him. "It is complicated."
"Oh come now, I have time," Meg assured her and pulled a stool close to her friend, smiling at her with encouragement. "Let me be your friend Christine, I know so little about you, and yet you know so much about me."
Christine swallowed nervously and looked at the mirror. Are you there Erik?
And so she began to tell Meg about everything, everything except Erik. She told her about Raoul de Chagny, and of course about her romantic relationship with him. Meg was thrilled at the small details Christine could remember about him, such as the color of his eyes and the way he would gently hold her hands as if she were made out of glass.
"How romantic," the blonde gushed lovingly over the words Christine spoke.
"It was," she smiled in memory, "he was a kind man, a sweet man. He was also as handsome as you can expect any man to be. But there was no connection between he and I. I do not mean to say that I did not feel attracted to him, any woman would. In her right mind. But I did not feel as attracted to him as I could have..."
"Then there was someone else," Meg hinted with a raised eyebrow.
"Whatever do you mean?" Christine blushed hard, "why would you think that?"
"Because you said 'as I could have'. You are are insinuating that there was an emotion lacking, and you would not know it was lacking unless you've felt it before."
The words made Christine shiver. This girl was more cunning then she gave her credit for. She would have to be careful with her words around Meg.
"There was..." she swallowed the knot in her throat and looked over her shoulder to the mirror, smiling softly before turning to her friend who noticed the movement but did not think much of it, "there is."
…
"Oh tell me more!" Meg cried out with excitement, clapping her tiny hands and grinning at Christine.
"Yes Christine, let us hear more," Erik murmured curiously, approaching the mirror as if that would allow him to hear better. But he could hear everything. He had heard everything and it took all his energy to not walk away. He knew now that it had been the right decision to stay.
"He is tall," Christine was smiling. Though her back remained turned towards him he could hear the smile in her voice, "he has dark hair, like ink. His eyes are amber in color..."
Meg sighed dreamily, and Erik raised a brow at this. What a curious girl.
"His hands are large, his fingers are long. He is a musician, and he is also quite temperamental."
Temperamental? Erik scowled, I am not temperamental!
"He enjoys reading, and composing music. He is extremely intelligent, well rounded. He is also an architect. Quite handsome as well."
Erik narrowed his eyes, it struck something in him. Was it that she wanted him to feel glad about that statement? Why had she said it at all when it was so clearly untrue? Was she trying to please his ego, to stroke his confidence? His jaw locked with annoyance. What was she trying to satisfy within him with that comment?
"What is his name?" Meg asked softly.
"He has many names," Christine told her.
"Well, he sounds like quite a mystery, and will I ever get to meet him?"
"I do not know. He enjoys keeping to himself. " Christine stood then, "I hope that one day you can meet him."
"I hope so too," Meg smiled and embraced her friend, "I must go. I will see you tomorrow morning Christine. Good evening."
"Goodbye Meg."
When Meg had left the room, and Christine was certain that she was not returning – she threw on her blue cloak and turned to face the mirror. The air grew cold and damp down below and Erik always insisted that she protect herself. It was clear to her that one of his biggest fears was that she grew sick and ruined her ability to practice.
As the mirror moved aside Christine turned her face away. A cold wind blasted forth and out of the cave , stirring her cloak backward and away from her. Erik stood there with his black cloak swaying gently against the draft.
When Christine looked up she met with his amber gaze. She smiled and stepped forward as she always did and took his hand in her own. Erik allowed her to warm his cold fingers as she stepped into the cool darkness before shutting the mirror. Her eyes shined up at him.
"How long have you been standing here?"
"I've heard what you said," he replied coolly, lifting the lantern from the ground and towing her towards the boat. Christine followed with easy steps, "Meg Giry is awfully interested in fantasies of romance. It seems to me that you are much more mature than she is."
"She and I were brought up in different circumstances. Meg is still very much protected by her mother, of course she is going to be fantasizing about romance."
When they reached the boat Erik and Christine climbed in hurriedly. They did not like to linger in the cold, with strength and efficiency Erik began to row them across the wide lake and to their home.
Something was eating at him. Christine could see it in his demeanor. Usually he had comments to make, he would complain about Carlotta or even something Christine did but today he was silent, saying very little. Could it have had something to do with her words to Meg?
"Is everything alright Erik?" She blinked up at him.
"No Christine," he answered honestly and calmly. "Everything is not alright."
"What is wrong then?"
"It is nothing for you to worry your pretty head over."
"Excuse me?" Her eyes widened. The comment rubbed her the wrong way. It made her feel like a stupid little girl with no mind of her own, "what is your problem today Erik?" Everything had been going so well... we haven't fought in months.
"My problem is none of your concern Christine," he told her blankly, he did not notice her hurt expression as he continued rowing. Christine remained silent and replayed the conversation in her head. At no point had she said anything wrong. Perhaps it was her words about Raoul de Chagny? She dared to glance up at him and found that his eyes were trained straight ahead.
When they pulled up on the bank of the lake Christine did not wait for him to offer her his hand, she jumped out on her own, able to do it by herself and strode quickly towards her bedroom. Erik, who was not unaware that she was annoyed did not follow. He simply threw off his cloak and began to play on the organ. The sound filled the cave.
In her room Christine removed her dress and put on trousers and a large shirt. She could not imagine what it was that hurt Erik so much, but she hoped that he would get over it. For the rest of the night Christine remained in her room and eventually fell asleep.
Dreams of M. de Chagny plagued her still.
Woo! We are in the lair! We are also almost ending the story, I'm not sure how long it will be but I know that this is like PART 2 of the story and we are probably going to have... 15 chapters until it ends :) With that being said, soon I am going to Colombia, I don't know what this means for my update rate but that's why I've been slowing down again (busy busy busy). BUt I hope I've kept some of you interested!
