A/N: This is for flora-gray who convinced me that it was time to just bite the bullet and post some of what I had written for this chapter. Thank you!
Chapter 7: A House of Roses and Dreams
We travel the rest of the way to the new house in silence. I watch from the window as the rows of buildings are replaced with a vast expanse of open country outlined by densely packed trees. Some hang low, casting eerie shadows in the moonlight. Any faith I had that this new life above might liberate me from the dark and endless days of the Opera cellars begins to fade as the hansom travels deeper into this wooden abyss. I shift nervously in my seat, as the carriage reaches a part of the road devoid of all light and the only thing I can see are Erik's bright golden eyes staring at me.
"Do not worry my Christine, for sometimes out of the darkness something beautiful is born."
No sooner are the words out of his lips, the interior of the hansom is illuminated by the silver light of the moon. There is no overgrowth of trees here, rather we make our way down a wide gravel road lined on either side with well-manicured bushes. The carriage continues straight then turns onto a narrower path and comes to a stop. Erik rises from his seat and exists first. He offers me his hand and as I emerge, I take in the scene before me. The landscape is breathtakingly beautiful with low rolling hills and lush forests as far as the eye can see. There are no torture chambers, or trap doors or endless dark passages here. Instead, the area is teaming with life. I hear the soft chirping of the crickets and the melodious songs of the nightingales as they call to their mates. I'm instantly overcome with a deep urge to kick off my shoes and run wild. I want to run until my lungs burn and my legs can no longer carry me. I'm so lost in thought I do not realize Erik is speaking to me.
"Are you well my dear," he asks concerned.
"Yes Erik," I say, my eyes trained on the open space in front of me.
"Chris-tine," he calls and I immediately turn to face him. "Have you heard anything I've said?"
I look away embarrassed. "I'm sorry Erik. I just wasn't expecting," I gesture to the space in front of me, "all of this."
"It is quite lovely, is it not?"
"More than I could have ever imagined."
"There is much still to see, my Christine, but first I must speak with the driver. Wait here for me. Do not venture off alone."
I'm not sure if it's the fresh air or something else but suddenly I'm feeling quite brazen.
"Are you afraid I will run away," I ask with an air of defiance.
"You may try," he says, his eyes filled with amusement at the thought that I could ever manage to execute such a plan. Then he leans in close to me, his good humor disappearing as he whispers, "but know that I will ALWAYS find you." He pauses and places a closed fist over his heart, "MY Christine."
"Why must you make everything sound like a threat," I ask, my confidence replaced by a nervous tension growing in the pit of my stomach.
He cocks his head to the side and sighs. "It doesn't have to be. If you would just give me a chance, I know I could make you happy."
I'm about to object, to explain that I can never be truly happy when he forced this life upon me but the words die on my lips. The truth is, even after all he has done to me, and taken from me, I do not have the strength to break his heart.
As if sensing my weakness, he continues his pleading. "Please Christine, Erik wishes for nothing more than to take care of his angel."
I stare at the ground defeated and silently nod my consent. Then I see his shadow move in the direction of the waiting carriage. Moments later, I hear an unfamiliar voice and I turn surprised to see the driver conversing amiably with Erik.
"Monsieur, there must be some mistake. You have paid me double the fare."
"Indeed. You have made good on your promise to deliver myself and my companion safely to our destination. It is well earned."
"I thank you Monsieur, but I cannot in good conscience accept this."
"Jules, do not argue with me. We both know your family needs the money and your son must attend a university. Promise me you will see to it!"
There is a desperation in Erik's voice that I do not understand. I have never known Erik to care about the fate of another human being other than myself. This knew information revitalizes my hope that he might still be redeemed.
"Yes, Monsieur. I promise."
"Good," Erik responds, relief evident in his voice.
"Monsieur," the unfamiliar man calls again nervously. "Forgive me for being so bold, but I am truly happy you have found someone. I did not like the thought of you living all alone."
Erik shifts uncomfortably and steals a quick glance in my direction. Then he turns his attention back to the driver.
"It is late Jules. Go home to your wife. She will be expecting you."
"Yes, Monsieur," he says obediently and picks up the reigns preparing to leave, then pauses. "Will I hear from you again?"
"Perhaps," Erik replies noncommittally.
"Be well Monsieur."
Erik nods and steps away from the hansom as it begins to move forward then he turns and shuffles toward me until he is within arms reach.
"Who was that man," I ask curiously.
He looks back at the carriage as it disappears into the distance.
"No one of consequence."
I can tell he is feigning indifference as I think of how he worried for the man and his son but I do not pry any further. He turns back to me then, a sly smile visible under the mask as he raises his hand and snaps his fingers together. In an instant, a bright red rose appears out of thin air.
"For you my dear."
I raise my eyebrow at him suspiciously for a moment then accept his gift bringing it to my nose to inhale its sweet scent. He watches me intently and I feel slightly breathless. Then he moves to stand behind me and whispers softly in my ear, "Welcome home, Christine."
Before me stands a quaint house with a pale pink façade surrounded on all sides by rose bushes. I am immediately rendered speechless and it takes me a few moments to compose myself before I can speak again. When I finally do, my voice is trembling.
"How could you possibly have known," I ask more to myself than Erik.
He is understandably confused by my question. "What do you mean my dear?"
"I've seen this house before Erik. When I was younger, it would appear in my dreams."
He seems just as surprised by my revelation as I am. "It has appeared in mine as well."
I stare at him in disbelief. "Erik how is that even possible," I ask incredulously. He doesn't respond right away, and I notice he has a far off look in his eye. "Many years ago, I was commissioned by the Shah of Persia to build a palace for him. All I wanted was to create beautiful things but the Shah and his mother had other plans for me."
"What kinds of plans," I ask foolishly and I am met with a cold and icy stare.
"Tread carefully Christine, there are things about Erik you need never know."
A shiver of fear runs through me and I try not to imagine what atrocities he likely committed in Persia.
"What does any of this have to do with the house Erik?"
"You see Christine, my time in Persia was quite unpleasant. Sometimes I needed to escape."
"How did you…" I being to inquire but he interrupts me.
"That is not important. All you need to know is that during these moments, I would experience the most vivid dreams but there was one in particular that my mind would revisit often, like a melody repeating itself. How I yearned for that dream each night! It brought me a sense of peace I did not know existed." He pauses briefly and I can sense his vulnerability. "I based the design of this house on that vision because it reminds me of you. You are my comfort and my solace. You are my dream Christine."
The weight of his love falls heavily upon my soul and I feel as though I'm drowning. As if sensing my unease at his words, Erik quickly looks away. "Forgive me Christine, I know you do not like when I admit to such feelings. Let us not speak of it again."
He begins to walk away as words fall from my mouth in a hurried whisper, "There was music."
He stops in his tracks. "Excuse me?"
"In my dream. There was this exact house and the most beautiful music coming from within but I could never enter, so I would stand by the door and listen. Sometimes I would even sing along."
"And how did the dream make you feel Christine?" He is standing much closer to me than he was a moment ago making it difficult to concentrate.
"Light, peaceful, happy. I never wanted to wake from it," I answer honestly.
"Perhaps now you won't have to," he says in that velvety voice that immediately clouds my mind.
He holds out his gloved hand and I take it as I let him lead me through the maze of rose bushes toward our house. I've always been fascinated by roses. They are by their very nature a paradox. I examine the one in my hand as we walk. The vibrancy of its color, the delicacy of its petals and the subtle sweetness of its scent masking its hidden danger. Soon we are standing before a thick wooden door as Erik fiddles in his coat pocket and removes a shiny key. A click and a turn of the knob and the door opens as he steps aside.
"After you, Mademoiselle."
As I step over the threshold, a gust of warm air caresses my face as the gentle glow of candlelight illuminates the area. I notice rose petals scattered across the floor and their sweet smell permeates the house. The scene before me is terribly romantic and my heart breaks because I know he planned this moment just for me in the hopes that I might return his affection.
"Which room do you wish to see first my dear?"
It does not take me long to make my decision. "The music room," I reply.
Erik chuckles slightly. "Of course, it is just beyond the staircase over to the right."
He removes his gloves and places them on a nearby pedestal table. Then, he leads me through the house until we are standing in front of two large, white doors. I can sense his excitement as he opens them wide and ushers me inside. The space is larger than a typical music room. In the middle of the area, resides a grand piano and across from it a large ornate sofa. In one corner of the room, a violin rests against the wall, while the other half of the space is lined with shelves that contain a vast collection of books from around the world. On the far wall, are two glass doors that lead out to a small veranda. Erik watches me as I make my way through the room. I approach the piano and lightly touch the keys as I imagine him playing one of his compositions for me. I am brought back from my musings by his heavenly voice.
"I chose this room specifically for the acoustics. I must admit I am eager to hear you sing in here my dear. I'm quite certain it will be glorious!"
I smile down at the keys. "I am equally eager to hear you play," I admit shyly.
Our eyes meet from across the room and the air suddenly feels very heavy. It makes me lightheaded and I casually place my hand on the side of the piano for balance.
"Such music we shall create Christine! The angels will weep from the beauty of it!"
His passionate spirit is contagious and I feel myself nodding fervently in agreement. We stay that way for a moment, eyes locked on each other until I look away clearing my throat.
"Will you show me the rest of the house now?"
He nods and leads me on a tour through all the other areas of our new dwelling. On our way to my bedroom, which is our final destination, we pass by a closed door.
"What is in there," I ask curiously.
My question catches him by surprise and he begins to shift nervously.
"That my dear is a room for Erik. It's a small indulgence of mine."
"Can I see it?"
"Perhaps another time. It is late and I would rather you have a good night sleep."
I do not press him further and we walk the last few steps to the door of my new bedroom. Erik opens it to let me in but I notice he remains in the doorway. As I enter, I am once again struck by the exquisite beauty of the architecture and décor. The room has all the comforts that would normally be afforded to a woman of high social standing. A canopy bed, made from the finest wood and handcrafted with intricate designs is situated across from a large vanity that holds an assortment of expensive perfumes and other feminine products. There is a private bath with a marble tub surrounded by three bay windows, and as promised, a closet filled with a variety of the finest garments money can buy. For a moment I am so overwhelmed I simply stand in the center of the room, my back turned toward Erik.
"You have been awfully quiet tonight my dear. I hope that you have found everything to your liking."
"Erik," I say, swiftly spinning to face him. "Please do not misinterpret my silence for disappointment."
"You like the house then," he asks hopeful.
"Yes Erik. I like it very much."
"I am glad. Erik hopes that he has made you happy."
I smile at him and I see him grab the door frame tightly with his hand as he shakes his head in disbelief.
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you smile, Christine?"
Immediately my face flushes and I look down at the floor unable to meet his eyes.
"Forgive me, Erik does not wish to make you uncomfortable."
Truthfully, I am deeply flattered by his comment.
I glance back up at him. "Erik," I pause searching for the appropriate words to express exactly how I feel. "I know it wasn't easy for you to leave the safety of the opera cellars, but I am truly grateful. This is more than I ever thought I would have."
"You deserve much more than this, my Christine."
The sincerity in his voice and the love I see in his eyes coupled with the knowledge that he built all this with my comfort in mind, brings me so close to tears that I need to bite my lip to try to refrain from falling apart in front of him. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if he had pursued me under different circumstances. If he had not been a murderer and an extortionist but simply Erik, brilliant musician and architect. If he had never manipulated or kidnapped me. If he had given me a proper choice.
I walk over to where he is still standing at the door. He looks at me confused, unsure why I have approached him. I tilt my forehead forward inviting him to place a chaste kiss there like I had done on that terrible night all those months ago. His eyes widen as he realizes my intention.
"Christine," he whispers. "You are such a good girl. No one has ever shown Erik such kindness. Not even his own miserable mother."
A pained expression flitters across my face. "How could she be so cruel," I ask, not wanting to believe that a mother could do such a terrible thing.
"I do not know dear child. I have found it best not to dwell on my past. The memories are unpleasant."
"Erik, I am so sorry."
He moves closer to me and raises his long boney fingers inches from my lips.
"Hush now Christine, there is no need to apologize for something that is not your fault."
Suddenly, his eyes become very serious as if he is deep in concentration. Then he reaches up and places a trembling hand on either side of my face as his thumbs move lightly across my cheeks.
"Your skin is so soft," he says as his breath tickles my cheek.
My legs suddenly feel weak. Without thinking, I place my hands lightly on his chest and I can feel his heartbeat moving in tandem with my own. Then, he slowly leans down and places a gentle kiss to the center of my forehead. His lips feel cold, just as they did all those months ago, but this time they leave behind a warm tingling sensation that spreads throughout my body and I have to stifle a moan that threatens to escape from my lips. His entire body is shaking as he draws back, his hands still cradling my face, not wanting to let go.
"I think it might be wise for Erik to leave now Christine, before his actions have unintended consequences."
The weight of his words brings me back to reality and I quickly step away putting some needed distance between us.
We stare at each other awkwardly for a few moments until Erik turns to leave.
"Sleep well Christine."
"And you Erik," I reply softly.
When the door finally closes behind him, I release a breath I did not even know I was holding. I walk over to my new vanity and stare at myself in the mirror slowly bringing my fingertips up to my forehead to trace over the spot where Erik's lips had been only moments before. Then I ready myself for bed and as I begin to drift to sleep I hear the faint sound of Erik's violin as it plays a familiar melody that I have only ever heard in our shared dream.
A/N: This chapter has been such a challenge to write! What is here is only the first part of what was fast becoming an endless chapter so I had to break it up. There is still much more to come. Reviews are greatly appreciated!