Madness and Hope
After the gala Christine was on her way to her dressing room. She was used to admirers waiting for her in the corridor and walked past them, smiling a very much professional smile and taking the flowers and little gifts they offered her. Since she did not like to be called by the name Davisseau everyone knew that she preferred Christine. That was no wonder, "La Carlotta" had been La Carlotta and not using her surname - why shouldn't Christine do the same?
When she reached her dressing room, she saw Raoul standing at the door. He bowed to her very formally, greeting her as "Madame".
"Please come in," she said. It wasn't unusual to allow a suitor into the dressing room. And since everyone knew she was married to an old unsightly dull man no one wondered she had a young suitor. On the contrary, they believed that Raoul de Chagny was coming off very well - he had had an affair with her but she married someone else so he could continue his affair without worrying about any scandal for she was married and another man would have to care for the "consequences" of that affair. If they had only known just how wrong they were.
"Christine, how are you?" Raoul asked, as soon as they were alone.
"Thank you, Raoul. I'm fine. How are you?"
Raoul looked at the mirror. Why had Christine been given her old dressing room? The one with that horrible mirror?
"Is he...?" Raoul asked.
Christine looked at the mirror. "Erik? Are you there? If you are, come in, I don't like you hiding there!" she said in a commanding voice Raoul had never heard from her lips.
The mirror opened and Erik came in. He wore a black suit and a fawn mask. "Good evening, Monsieur le Comte!" he greeted and gave a stiff bow. Raoul did not return the greeting, he gave a disgusted snort. Erik tried to ignore that. He could not risk a fight right now. Not in a small dressing room with Christine standing between them.
"I just wanted to know if Christine was well," Raoul said uneasy, "And I want to talk to her alone, so please be so kind as to leave us."
Erik clenched his fists, the knuckles protruding white through his pale skin. He gnashed his teeth and tried to stay in control. "She's MY wife!" he hissed, barely managing to keep his voice low.
Christine grabbed his shoulders and forced him to look down at her. "Yes, Erik, I am your wife and I am well aware of the gossip about the three of us. I assure you that there is nothing true about that gossip, I am faithful to you. But I really would appreciate to talk to Raoul alone." Suddenly she wished that the Persian was somewhere near to help her.
Erik's breathing betrayed his fury. It was hard to control himself now. He glared at Raoul as he snarled: "Why can't you just leave us in peace?"
Raoul decided to give an honest answer as not to provoke Erik, he knew how dangerous that man was. "I just want to make sure she's well."
"I'm not abusing her, as you might see! She's healthy and well!" Erik snapped.
"I'd prefer to hear that from herself," Raoul stated calmly. He refused to show just how much he feared Erik.
Christine cut in: "Erik, please go. Wait for me at the door, I really appreciate that you take me home safely every evening but right now I would talk to Raoul alone. You trust me, do you?"
Erik took a deep breath. "Yes, I do trust you," he whispered, then turned and fled from the room. He needed to release his fury somehow and all he could do now was to run through the cellars, pounding his fists against the walls until his hands were bleeding. Finally he had to stop, breathless and covered in sweat but calm enough to wait for Christine without having to fear he might hurt her in his anger. It wasn't easy to pretend he trusted her for he certainly did not. She was his wife, she would not leave him but he was not sure she would be able to resist to that handsome seducer.
Meanwhile Christine explained to Raoul that Erik was a considerate husband and her life wasn't bad, Erik certainly was not the most likeable companion but he was not abusing her.
"If you want to get a divorce..." Raoul started.
Christine interrupted him: "No. If I asked for divorce I would be the guilty party. I neglect my duties as a housewife so he has to do that work, until now I did not fulfill any of my wifely duties. No, I have no right to ask for divorce and I don't even want to. Raoul, don't you understand that it is true what Erik promised me? I do not suffer in our marriage, I'm... well, happily ever after is not true either but... I'm not unhappy, I'm quite contend. I know you still hate him for killing your brother, Raoul, and I understand that. But please accept that he can be... well, good would be an overstatement but normal. Please accept that I am married to Erik and don't even want to leave him."
"I just wanted to be sure that you are well. We know Erik's violent nature and his mood swings. If you ever need any help - anything at all - please promise me that you come to me," Raoul said gently.
"Thank you," Christine answered, "If I ever need help, I'll let you know."
After Raoul left, she turned to the mirror, opened it and checked that Erik was not there. With a sigh of relief she turned back to her dressing room to change her clothes and prepared to go home.
Erik really waited at the small sidedoor for her. "You did very well today," he greeted her. Christine saw blood on his hands as he bowed to her.
"Erik, what happened?" she asked worriedly.
"Nothing. I just had to let off some steam and... well, I think the walls are a little bit stronger than my fists, but only a little bit," he smirked.
They walked home in silence. When they entered their house Erik suddenly asked: "Is it true that you would not deny me if I asked?"
Christine looked up at him, blushing. "It is true," she whispered, "But I'm scared."
"Me too," Erik answered with a humorless chuckle, "I promise I'd be gentle and if you tell me you disliked something I'll stop it immediately. I promise." He hated himself for his weakness but after leaving his wife and that despicable handsome fop alone in her dressing room he could no longer stop himself from asking her. He wanted her, he wanted her to be his.
"All right," she answered, "But I'd like some of that wine first. And I'd like to have a bath and I want you to take a bath."
"Of course. Please, take your bath, I'll prepare your room and the wine."
When Christine sat on her bed - dressed in a long, white nightshirt and a dressing gown - she wondered if she would have the courage to go through with it. She had told Erik she would not deny him and now she was scared stiff. The touch of his hands and his kiss had not been disgusting, but... she was scared. Erik had put new sheets onto her bed, decorated it with rose petals - where had he gotten rose petals while she took her bath? - and lit a few candles. The honey wine and two glasses sat on her night table.
When Erik entered her room she flinched. Then she looked at him and saw that he was dressed as if he was going out. He wore a suit, complete with a cravat, mask, hat, shoes, cape and even gloves. Every inch of his skin was covered, only his eyes were visible. That told her that he himself was scared too. The more he was scared, the more he covered himself. She just suspected him to wear two shirts beneath his suit.
He sat down beside her on the bed and poured them two glasses.
"To you, my love," he said gently before draining his glass in one gulp.
Christine sipped at her glass. She rather liked the sweet taste of the honey wine. When she had finished she waited for some effects but the honey wine had no other effects that other wine would have.
She looked at Erik who was staring at the candle, twitching his hands nervously. Christine lied down on the bed on her back. She was scared - not disgusted at his touch but scared for she did not know what was going to happen and she was afraid it might be disgusting or painful.
"I'll extinguish the light," Erik whispered, his voice shaking. The darkness helped him - he did not want her to see him.
"Take off your hat and your shoes!" Christine scolded him as she felt him climbing on the bed.
"Sorry..." he whispered and got off the bed again.
"Cape also," she reminded him, "and the gloves." She wondered if he was as scared as she was right now. The thought held a little comfort for her and gave her some self-confidence.
It was nothing like one of them had expected. To both of them it was rather awkward and unpleasant but to Christine's surprise there wasn't much pain, though it surely did hurt.
Suddenly Erik was gone in the darkness and she did not know why or where he had gone. He returned to her some time later, again fully dressed in another suit but without hat and cape. He lightened the candle and poured the rest of the honey wine into the glasses.
"I hope I did not hurt you too much?" he asked, his voice full of concern.
"No, it wasn't that bad," she answered, her face red with shame. Why was she ashamed? They were a married couple, there was no need to be ashamed. But her feelings did not obey her reasoning.
"Thank you, my darling," Erik said seriously, "That was the greatest gift I ever received. I have no idea how to make up for that - even if I could give you the world it would never be enough. I'm so sorry."
"It wasn't that bad," Christine tried to assure him and Erik smirked.
"But you did not like it," he stated.
What to do now? Lie to him? No, that would not be a good idea. "Change of subject. Now!" she said firmly.
Erik took something out of his pocket. It was small jewel box. He handed it to her and she could see him smile as she opened it. It contained a necklace, a ring and a bracelet made of gold, ruby and diamonds.
"My grandmothers," he said gently, "She got them from my grandfather after their wedding. My father gave it to my mother and now you shall have it."
Christine did not know if she wanted to have them - not with the knowledge how Erik came to have them - but then... he certainly was an heir to his parents. And it meant much to him to give her this gift.
"You are free now," Erik said, "If you want to get a divorce, I'll shoulder the blame and confess to forcing you to the marriage. If you want to be a widow, you'll be that at sunrise. Whatever you want, it's yours."
Christine stared at him. He did not make any sense right now. Hadn't she just proven to him that she accepted being his wife? He was talking about suicide! Suddenly she was angry at him.
"Erik, you damnable fool!" she yelled at him, "How can you even talk about something like that? How can you still doubt me like that? If you LOVE me, you never, you hear me, NEVER talk about leaving me or committing suicide! That's no love! I should knock some sense into you!"
Erik stared at her, then he answered helplessly: "I thought you wanted to be free?"
"Did I say that?" she asked, still furious.
"No, but I thought..."
"Stop thinking - it does not make any sense! For all your cleverness you are the most stupid idiot in this world! Can't you accept that I do not want to leave you? My life is not ruined, my life is not sad, why do you insist on hurting both of us like that? Why are you too stubborn, too blind, too stupid to see that I ACCEPT you as you are?" As if to demonstrate her words she snatched his mask away, grabbed his neck with both hands and pressed her lips against his. Erik sat stock-still, he suddenly felt lightheaded and could not think. When she pulled away he just stared at her, his lips slightly parted, a small bruise on his lower lip where it had collided with her teeth. She was not sure what had possessed her to act like this - was it the rage at Erik's behavior? The annoyance with Erik's habit of spoiling every moment of happiness himself?
"Don't forget breathing," she scolded him, not so angry any more.
Erik released his breath. His head was spinning, he did not understand anything of what had happened. He had been sure that after he had taken her, she would hate him and never wanted to see him again. He had been sure she would consider this rape... but she didn't. Why? How? How could she not hate him after he had been so selfish?
Christine took her glass of honey wine, drained it, then took Erik's glass and drained it too. He just watched her. "I want to sleep now," she said and Erik got up automatically.
"And where do you think you are going?" Christine asked annoyed. She wasn't sure if it was still her anger or if it was the effect of the wine that was now setting in. Erik said nothing, just stared at her, his mind blank. "You might as well sleep here," she continued in a much softer voice.
"I don't want to give you nightmares..." he muttered, "I don't want to scare you waking up next to this..." He gestured helplessly to his face.
"You might sleep with your mask on, but for the last time: Take off your shoes!"
A few hours later Christine was asleep, but Erik was still awake. He could not sleep, he just lay there on her bed, staring at her, still not able to believe this had really happened. He pushed a strand of her beautiful blonde hair out of her face and whispered: "My angel, I love you so much." Then he smiled as he heard her snoring softly.
When Christine woke the next day she was alone in the house. She was used to that, Erik always got up long before her. She smiled as she saw that he had left her breakfast at her night table, along with a bunch of dark red roses. Beneath the roses was a musical score with Erik's rather indecipherable handwriting. It was not written in red but in blue ink. Since their wedding Erik used mainly blue ink, knowing she disliked the red ink for it reminded her of blood.
When she had finished her breakfast she looked at the musical score. There were no words, just music for a harp. She looked over to the harp and wished she could play it. On the last page of the musical score Erik had written something and after some time she was able to make out his handwriting. It read: "Now I know what David played to free Saul of his madness."
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Now that chapter wasn't easy. Writing a wedding night (of sorts) without anything that would make it mature content. I imagine their wedding night to be not romantic but rather awkward - Christine is a virgin and very shy, Erik hates his body and is very reluctant to reveal any part of it.
For those who don't know the story of King David from the Bible - King Saul went mad at some times and only David playing the harp could soothe him and bring him back to his senses. Erik rather likes that story.
I hope you like that chapter! Please review!
