Chapter Twenty Three

A/N: A very long chapter that I hope you enjoy and don't kill me over. I promise to update soon.

P.S.

Can you believe I've written over 300 pages for this story?!

"Have you thought about your wedding trousseau?" Meg asked slyly as the pair sat in the Valerius' parlor sipping tea.

"No, I guess I haven't given it much thought," Christine responded, flushing at the idea of shopping for intimate, lacy apparel that would, undoubtedly, please Erik.

"You haven't much time before your wedding you know," Meg stated pointedly. "And every bride needs a trousseau."

"I know, Meg. I just suppose the thought of acquiring those items is a bit nerve-wracking. You know I love Erik….But I am truthfully very nervous about going to bed with him for the first time." Christine ducked her head, her face feeling overly hot.

"Oh, Christine, it will be alright. I cannot say I know very much about the act itself but the ballet girls talk about it quite a lot….from what I hear it can actually be very pleasurable if the man is gentle. No doubt Erik will see to your comfort."

The girl blushed further, slightly embarrassed at the intimate turn their conversation had taken. "Will you take me shopping, Meg? I would like to have your input."

"Of course! Why don't we go tomorrow and make a day of it? Then we can get some lunch or supper afterwards."

Christine smiled. "That sounds lovely!"

True to her word, Meg took Christine along with her for their more intimate shopping quest the following day. Christine was excited-she had put away quite a lot of money from both her time as a seamstress at the opera house and from her substantial salary as lead soprano. No doubt Erik would have insisted upon paying for the items had he known what she was doing, but Christine knew he would already insist on providing her with everything once they were married. She sought to enjoy this bit of independence and even told Meg she would like to get her fiancée a wedding gift while they were out.

"Here we are," her friend announced as the pair stopped suddenly. Christine's heart was beating erratically. She had never shopped for lingerie before, and knowing it would be for Erik's eyes only made her all the more anxious. They both stepped inside and the girl relaxed slightly; the inside of the store had a light, clean, mint-like scent and did not at all smell of cloying perfume like she thought it would.

Immediately, they were greeted by an older woman with a kind voice. For a minute, Christine wondered if she would be recognized as the new diva of the Populaire; luckily, the salesperson said nothing and merely inquired as to what she was looking for.

And so for several hours Meg and Christine searched and bought an abundant amount of wedding items. Christine rubbed the assorted lacy apparel between her fingers, only settling on those she found soft and pleasing to the touch. They were mostly white-a theme suggested by the salesperson, but some other colors were also accounted for including lavender, peach, and one dark blue. Finally, the trousseau was finished: garter belts, stockings, corsets, nightgowns, brassiers, drawers and the like were all packed together and would be sent to Christine's residence the following day.

The girls opted to take a lunch break before searching for Erik's present. More wedding details were discussed; Christine asked Meg what she would be wearing and offered to give her some money to buy a new dress if she wanted. Her friend refused the offer, declaring she actually had a very nice blue dress hanging in her closet that would be perfect for a winter wedding.

"You would look beautiful in anything, Meg. I am sure of it," Christine replied, reaching across the table to hold her friend's hand. "Meg…I really want to thank you for everything you've done for me. When we met…I felt so alone in the opera house. You've always been so good to me, not caring about my blindness. I've always felt so…human around you and well…you know I'm not good with words…I'm just grateful you will be at my wedding and for being so accepting of Erik and I." The girl finished, her ears straining for a response. Christine almost felt silly pouring her heart out so suddenly to Meg.

She then heard a sniffling sound across from her. "Oh, Christine. You are going to make me cry! I love you so much," Meg exclaimed, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Stop, Meg. Now I am going to cry!" Christine admonished, a giggle escaping despite the tears threatening to spill.

To lighten the mood the two engaged in some discussion considering Christmas and later, the masquerade ball. Christine confessed she had planned to spend a quiet Christmas Eve with Erik, later sleeping in the separate room in his lair. Meg invited her over for a Christmas dinner at her and her mother's flat.

"Do you think Erik would be open to coming over with you?"

"I do not know Meg. I feel as if I have pushed him too much already. I will ask him. It's just…your mother will think him strange with the mask and I do not want him bombarded with uncomfortable questions."

"I can tell her he was disfigured after fighting in the Parisian forces. She will not question it! Perhaps we may invite Monsieur Khan as well and then Erik would feel more comfortable."

"I still do not know. And Meg, your apartment is so small-I don't think we can fit so many people in there. What if, instead, I hosted the dinner? There is more room in Mama's house and I think it would be nice to have it so lively around the holidays again. I will help you cook and the men can sit in the parlor and drink!"

"Your plan is to get Erik drunk?" Meg scoffed, although Christine could hear a smile in her friend's voice.

"Not drunk. Just…comfortable."

"Alright. I'll ask maman if she would be willing to do that. To be honest, I am sure it would be a relief not to have such a mess at our apartment this year. You have a larger kitchen anyway. Make sure you invite Erik and Nadir."

"I will." Christine smiled, excited at the possibility of the five of them all together under one roof. She had dreaded the thought of being in an empty house during Christmas without her guardian for the first time.

"And what of the masquerade ball, Christine? You said Erik would be attending with you?"

"Yes, he told me he will be dressing as the 'Red Death.'" Christine declared, grinning at the thought.

"Merry fellow, isn't he?" Meg quipped.

"Yes, he is quite prone to dramatics. I dare say he would make a fine actor! What will your costume be?"

"They wish me to dress as Coppelia. Some of the costume women are already working on my outfit. It is rather nice being Prima Ballerina-I don't have to make my own dress. What about you, Christine?"

"They wish me to come as Marguerite from Faust, but costumed from the final act and fashioned with angel wings to represent her ascent into heaven."

"That will be interesting! An angel and the Red Death-how romantic," Meg teased.

The pair finished their lunch and then set off to find Erik's present.

"What are you thinking of getting him, Christine?" Meg asked as they strolled down the street.

"I am not completely sure. He has so many talents. He is a musician, an architect, an artist…"

"Why don't we go in here?" Meg asked suddenly, gently squeezing Christine's elbow.

"What store is it?"

"An antique shop."

"Alright! There must be something in there." Christine pulled the other girl forward.

After browsing for several minutes Meg whispered into Christine's ear. The girl reached out and touched the object, delighted.

"Yes! This is perfect!"

She walked out later with the gift tucked into her arms and pressed against her heart.

The girl had planned to spend a quiet evening at home- perhaps wrapping the gift she had bought for Erik. She had been rather cautious lately, heeding the strange warning she had heard in the dressing room all those nights ago. Christine double checked all the locks, pressing her palm against one of the windows, its iciness greeting her flesh. The weather had worsened, a snow storm threatened to sweep in come nightfall.

She moved to the kitchen, bustling about to make some more tea. A soft humming escaped her lips as she stirred a sugar cube into her drink.

"Christine!" The feminine shout came from the parlor. The girl froze, certain her heart would stop its beating altogether. No, no, no, not again! She crouched down, remembering her cane was in the parlor by the front door.

"Christine!"

The girl scrambled to her feet, walking with trembling legs towards the voice. She cried out. "Who is doing this!?"

"Christine, my darling girl." The voice spoke, so soft and gentle. It had to be Mama Valerius. Christine sunk to her knees, sobbing.

"Please, Mama. I cannot take this anymore. I feel as if I am going mad!"

"Danger is coming, Christine." Mama's voice spoke into her ear, causing the girl to shake even more than she already was.

"Stop this! What danger? WHAT DANGER?" Christine reached her hands out, hoping to make some kind of contact with flesh but only finding air in its stead.

"Danger…" the voice faded, as if carried away by an invisible wind.

The girl stumbled to the front door, tearing her cloak off of the hook and grabbing the cane tightly in her hand. It was dusk; with any luck she would be able to catch a carriage to her destination. She could not stand being in that house any longer, regardless as to whom the voice belonged. Christine hoped desperately that her friend would be able to help make sense of this madness. With a deep breath, she set out into the bitter chill of the outside world, locking the door firmly behind her.

"Christine? What are you doing here? Is everything alright?" Nadir's gentle voice greeted her as she stood on his doorstep in tears, her cane hanging at her side and her cloak whipped over her shoulders.

"May I come in?" She asked, shaking and furiously wiping away the snow that had fallen onto her bare face.

"Yes, yes please. Erik will kill me if I let you stay out in the cold any longer." She felt his hand on her arm urging her inside to the warm interior of his home. Christine sighed in relief. Nadir possessed such a comforting presence and his home made her feel safe.

The man ushered her into a chair placed by the fire and took her now-soaked cloak away to dry. In a few minutes he came back with some tea to warm her person as she was still trembling from the cold and the fear. Finally, he bid her explain her sudden appearance and she could not help but cry, apologizing as she told her story.

Nadir was silent until she finished. Softly, he began to speak. "Erik told me of the voice in the dressing room, Christine. After you left with your friend on closing night, he searched the place to see if anyone had tampered with the door's lock or had found some other way to enter."

"Erik was looking to see if some stranger had broken in to-to terrorize me?" She gasped. "He-he only said I must have been exhausted and that was why I heard the voice again…"

"He did not wish to frighten you, child. And, he did not find any evidence of someone breaking into your room."

What was more startling? The thought of someone blatantly terrorizing her under the pretense of being her dead guardian, or the possibility that Mama Valerius was sending her dire warnings from beyond the grave?

"Nadir, do you believe…ghosts of loved ones may warn us of danger?" She asked, feeling quite mad.

He paused before answering. "In all my years of living, Christine, I have found that many things are possible. Once, after my Rookheya had passed, I woke up to her voice in my ear, warning me I should go to the parlor immediately. When I got up and went to see what had caused such alarm…there was a small fire beginning to spread on the rug. I-in my foolishness and exhaustion from taking care of Reza-he was still an infant then-had left a lit candle on the tea table. Somehow it had fallen over. I was able to quickly put it out but if she had not told me I believe my son and I would have died that night."

Christine gasped, pressing her hand over her mouth. "She-she saved you!"

"Yes, I believe she did. Christine, it is possible you are very stressed and exhausted from taking on the role of Prima Donna and worrying over Ashkan…but I would not discount the possibility of your guardian looking after you even now."

Christine blanched. "Do you think he is the danger she warns me of?"

"Ashkan? It is possible…I do not wish to frighten you at all child, but we all must stay on our guard until he is taken care of."

Christine shuddered at the man's statement. "Do we even know where he is now?"

"Erik and I are currently trying to locate him. It appears he has vanished for now."

"Erik told me he must still be in Paris. Are you both so certain he has not merely returned to Persia?" she asked.

"The Shah's men do not give up. They do not return without a prisoner," Nadir stated simply.

Christine put her head in her hands, feeling a headache suddenly coming on. "I just want this to be over, Nadir! This constant worrying on when Ashkan will strike-on whether or not he will hurt Erik-it is too much!"

She heard the Persian rise from his seat and cross over to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Everything will be alright, my child. Erik is very skilled-nothing will hurt you."

"That is the problem, Nadir. I don't want Erik to have to kill again! I want him to be free of his past."

"You have freed him more than you can possibly know, Christine. You must accept that he will protect you no matter what. We cannot stop him."

The girl's shoulders sagged. "I know," she murmured, feeling very tired.

"You may stay here tonight, Christine. The weather is terrible outside. I will make up the guest room for you."

"That is so kind of you, Nadir. Thank you. And I am sorry for coming here uninvited. I didn't know where else to go," her voice cracked.

"It is alright. I am just glad you are safe, and I'm sure Erik will be relieved to know that as well."

Christine finally bid her host good night and slipped in between the covers of the guest bed, clad in only her chemise and drawers. She heard no voices now, and she fell asleep quickly.

The girl woke to the sound of two men's voices somewhere outside of her room. She shifted under the covers and then threw them off, still groggy from sleep. Christine wondered what time it could be as she slipped her dress from yesterday back on and washed her face in the basin by the bed. With her hair a tangled mess and no brush to work through her curls, she opted to tie the mass in a knot at the nape of her neck. She had no idea how she looked, but she guessed it was not radiant by any means.

With a breath she opened the door, registering Erik's voice in the parlor. She walked out shyly, her cane in hand as she navigated the novel layout of Nadir's home.

"Christine!" She heard Erik exclaim before being crushed tightly to his form. She wriggled her arms free, rubbing his back lightly.

"I am alright, Erik." The girl reassured, feeling guilty that he was worried about her so.

"Christine, breakfast has been prepared. You must be hungry," Nadir spoke up.

"Food would be wonderful," she replied after Erik released her, still clutching one of her hands tightly in his.

While she was eating, Christine learned that Nadir had found Erik early that morning. After hearing what had happened, Erik returned with the Persian, but not before they both made a trip to the Valerius' residence to examine the locks.

"There was no sign of a break-in," Erik stated after they had finished.

"And Nadir told me you also checked my dressing room after closing night," Christine said quietly.

"I did not wish to worry you, Christine." Erik's voice was cautious as he spoke.

"I know, but you really thought-think-someone has been playing some kind of sick joke on me?"

"I am a naturally skeptical person, Christine, and your safety was and always will be my first priority. But I could not find any evidence of someone playing a cruel trick on you," he ended quietly.

"It must be Mama Valerius," she whispered. "She is warning me of something, Erik. I think it is Ashkan! He is going to do something terrible!"

"He will not touch you," Erik growled. "I will not allow it."

"Erik, I am not worried about my safety, I'm worried about yours!" Christine shouted, startling the two men.

"Erik can protect himself, child," Nadir spoke up, his tone attempting to soothe.

"I know! I know…But I told you, Nadir, I don't want him to be put in such a position that he would have to-to kill someone again!"

"Nadir!" Erik snapped suddenly causing Christine to shrink in her seat. "Could I please have a moment alone with my fiancée?" His tone held a fury that frightened the girl.

"I will be in the other room," the Persian assented. She heard his footsteps cross the floor and the door closed behind him.

"Christine, I am going to kill Ashkan," Erik stated, his voice low and emotionless.

"Please Erik, I don't want you to have to do that! I just-I just wanted to help you leave your past behind and instead I have brought it right back to you!" She sobbed helplessly, knowing he had no choice.

"Do not blame yourself ever Christine!" he hissed, clutching her hands in his. Erik's grip was almost bruising in its force but she did not pull away.

"I am so sorry, Erik," she cried.

"You have done nothing wrong," he insisted desperately, his hands moving to grip her forearms as she trembled.

"I just want you to be happy," she whimpered, knowing Ashkan, the Shah, would do anything to cause her beloved unimaginable pain.

"You have made me incredibly happy, Christine. My Christine." His words were so tender it made her heart ache and she flung her arms about his neck, clinging to him tightly.

"Before we are married, I will take care of him," he whispered into her ear with a tone of finality. "I will not let our married life be haunted by the Shah or his followers," he vowed as she pressed her face into his neck.

"I promise to love you no matter what you must do," Christine replied, her voice stronger than she had expected.

"After the masquerade, I will end it," he told her somberly, his arms wrapped around her.

"Alright, Erik. Promise me you will be safe. Promise you will come back to me alive!" She begged, her hand caressing the back of his neck.

"I promise."

Christine could not help but shudder but kissed him fiercely on the lips, sealing her vow to love him forever, even if it meant he must kill for their future.

Christine was wracked with anxiety nearly every day but tried valiantly to keep it under control as Christmas approached. Erik had actually agreed to spend Christmas dinner at the Valerius' residence with Meg, her mother, and Nadir.

Christmas Eve was spent quietly in Erik's lair; the couple sat curled up on the futon together while a blazing fire warmed them.

"I have something for you," she said softly as she moved to retrieve his gift.

"What?" he asked, bewildered.

"Erik, tomorrow is Christmas! You must have a present," she smiled even as a sorrow threatened to overtake her. His mother had probably never gotten him any gifts, whether it be for a holiday or his birthday. Christine was determined to change that in their future.

"Here it is!" she announced giddily, nearly running back to where he sat.

"You did not have to get me anything, Christine," he insisted, a break in his voice evident.

"Yes I did."

He took the box out of her hands delicately; she heard the lid opening. "Christine…"

"It is a new ink and pen set! Since you compose, I thought this might be helpful!" She smiled widely. When he didn't respond anxiety threatened to replace her earlier eagerness.

"Is it alright? I can get you something else-."

"No one has ever gotten me a gift before," he breathed in awe. "It is…beautiful Christine. The pen is exquisite and the ink bottle is also finely crafted. Thank you, my love."

"Joyeux Noel, Erik!" she declared, embracing him tightly after he set the box down carefully.

"Joyeux Noel, Christine," he responded, sounding as if he may cry. "You have already given me so much." His fingers curled into her hair.

"I love you, Erik." Tears began to pool into her eyes at his gratefulness, his disbelief.

"I have something for you as well," he declared, leaving her side for a moment. She sat excitedly on the sofa until he bid her to put her hands out. Something was placed in her fingers-a leathery material.

"A book?" she asked, confused.

"Feel the cover," he instructed.

She did as he said, noticing bumps along the top. Then she opened it, surprised when the pages were not flat but instead filled with ridges and various raised dots.

"It is braille. The dots form letters individually, and together they form words. I know you cannot understand them yet but I have an instruction manual that will teach you how to use them-."

"I can read again?!" she nearly shrieked, astonished. "If I learn braille I can read books again? Oh, Erik! Thank you so much!" she cried, leaping up and throwing herself into his arms.

He embraced her back, laughing at her excitement. "Yes, my love. First you must learn what the dots mean but then you will be able to read. I can have any book you like made with braille."

"You are so wonderful to me! What is this book?"

"It is a collection of fairytales. I thought you would enjoy it," he admitted.

She kissed him hard before he could say another word, her arms wrapped around his neck. "I love you," she murmured over and over again against his lips. Christine could feel his smile against her mouth.

The masquerade was a lively affair between Christine, her Red Death, and Meg dressed as Coppelia.

A week ago the trio had enjoyed a pleasant Christmas dinner together at Christine's residence where they had all exchanged gifts. Meg's mother did not mention Erik's mask and merely welcomed him into their family as Christine's husband-to-be. Nadir was consistently charming as the night went on and told fabulous stories of his time in Persia, recounting magicians he had seen and the beautiful architecture the country boasted.

The women bustled about in the kitchen making sweets and supper while Nadir and Erik were banished into the parlor to drink and have conversation. It was all quite a new concept for the girl's fiancée but he had told her later it was not entirely unpleasant.

They played games; although, Erik insisted he would watch instead of participate. Christine gave him a quick peck on the cheek and told him that would be fine. Somehow, the girl had been coaxed into singing carols and had pleaded with Erik to join her. After some reluctance, he agreed and the pair was met with awed silence as they sang their duet. When they finished their audience applauded. Meg's mother sounded as if she were crying.

The night ended and soon everyone went home with Erik lingering behind until Christine gave him a passionate 'good night' and 'Merry Christmas' kiss.

Many of the Populaire's patrons flooded Christine with praise as she sipped champagne with Meg. Erik stood behind her, not wishing to draw any attention to himself. When the task of mingling was mostly over and the managers told her to enjoy the rest of the party (they had seemed too frighten to address her fiancée), Christine was delighted to have Erik sweep her into his arms and guide her across the dance floor, his movements graceful and lithe.

She could hear the people whispering and supposed it made sense. After all, she was dressed as a pure white angel, her hair let down but decorated with tiny jewels that were meant to catch in the light. Her costume was beautiful; she could tell as much when she felt the satiny fabric and the delicate embroidery in the bodice. The angel wings were a bit of a bother, and she wondered if any feathers were trailing behind her as she floated in her beloved's arms.

Her beau, on the other hand, was clad in a stark red costume with a mask resembling a skull, or so he had told her. He also wore a great long ruby cape; how he managed not to fumble over it astounded her. There they were-an angel and a devil in one another's arms. Surely the intrigue surrounding Christine would only be heightened after the night.

She smiled as Erik spun her around. I cannot wait to be his wife.

Christine and Meg found some time to dance with one another as well while Meg described the various costumes surrounding them. The managers, apparently, were already quite drunk, and so were most of the cast members. Christine laughed, feeling bubbly from the champagne.

She returned to Erik soon, already missing his arms around her. A wave of sorrow crashed over her as she thought of his promise.

"After the masquerade, I will end it."

Her smile faltered slightly. Would he find the man this week? Tomorrow? Would he be alright? Would he stay safe?

"Something is troubling you, my love," she heard his low voice in her ear.

Christine shook her head. "No, I am just tired I think," she replied, holding his hand tightly.

"Then perhaps we should get you home and to bed," he replied, sounding slightly concerned.

"Alright. Let me just say goodbye to Meg and the managers."

Because he was in full costume, Erik felt comfortable accompanying Christine home in a carriage. When they arrived at the residence he bid her get ready for bed while he checked all of the locks.

Christine knew he must be anxious as well for his confrontation with Ashkan. She absolutely knew he feared for her safety above all else, and so she was not surprised when he meticulously locked all the windows and doors in her home as she changed into her night clothes.

Finally, she opened the door to her bedroom as she tied the sash of her dressing gown about her waist.

"Everything is secure," he announced as she approached.

"Thank you, my love," she replied wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Do you feel safe?" he asked.

"Always with you," she replied softly.

"I am going to find him tomorrow," he stated somberly.

"O-oh. I see. Be safe," she pleaded, her heart beating frantically.

"I will. You are going to spend the day with Meg tomorrow?" he asked, perhaps worried about the possibility of her being alone.

"Yes, we are supposed to get lunch together. Promise me you will come to me as soon as it is done?" Her voice was quaking.

"I promise."

"I love you, Erik."

"I love you so much, my Christine."

"You should get some rest," she stated, biting her lip as she thought of what he had to do.

"You as well. I will be back soon." He pressed her hand to his heart.

"See to it that you return in one piece," she jested, although the seriousness in her voice could not be mistaken.

He pressed his mouth to hers suddenly, and she returned the bruising pressure, frightened this may very well be their last kiss. He pulled away after several minutes.

"I will come back," he vowed as the warmth of his body left her arms. She heard the door open.

"I believe you," she whispered.

She woke up surprisingly early, although perhaps the worry she held over Erik's violent task was the cause of her restlessness. Christine dressed after a bath and left the bedroom. She halted. A breeze wafted through the house.

Erik had said all the windows and doors were locked. Trying not to panic, she grabbed her cane, listening for any footsteps. She heard none. Then, still feeling uneasy, she made her way to the kitchen and found a small knife that she tucked into her bodice.

Christine found the breeze was chillier as she made her way to her guardian's old room and froze when she discovered the window had been wrenched open. Snow whipped inside, causing her teeth to chatter.

She knew she needed to leave, knew someone was in there with her.

Fighting the bile rising in her throat she made her way back to the front door preparing to twist the knob open.

Then a large hand covered her mouth.

She screamed at the feeling of such a substantial, solid presence pressed against her back and struggled against the grip, finding the button on her cane that released its blade.

The man immediately wrenched her arm backwards, causing her to drop the weapon as pain shot through her wrist.

"No tricks," he spat, roughly yanking her hair. She cried out, kicking against his shins with the heel of her boots to no avail. Then she bit him as hard as she could on his middle finger. A copper like taste entered her mouth.

Her captor yelled in pain and for a moment she was free and stumbling back to the door, flailing to find the knob once more. She heard him curse in another language while she fumbled with the door. It just started to open when he wrapped his fingers roughly into her hair, tugging the tendrils so hard she could not believe the agony he caused.

He threw her onto the ground; the wind was completely knocked out of her. He straddled her, his thighs digging into her ribs while one hand pinned her wrists above her head as she kicked and shouted.

Then she felt a wet cloth being pushed over her mouth and nose and feared she would suffocate to death. She writhed under his heavy weight for what seemed like hours before darkness began to take over. Her last thoughts were of Erik and the future they would never have.