Disclaimer : I don't own any of the characters. They belong to Gaston
Leroux. Alain Choletti and Gerard Carriere belong to Misters Yeston and
Kopit.
Christine's point of view
I did not sleep well, but not only because of the pain. What would Erik do now? He said anyone who saw his face was never allowed to leave, and I had seen him. I now knew he would not hurt me, he would never hurt me, even in the darkest of tempers. He would never let me go either. I would never see my friends again. Meg, Madam Giry, Raoul… A sob escaped my mouth before I could suppress it. I turned and buried my face in my pillow. I didn't want to stay down here forever! I wanted to go back to the light, away from these dark vaults. I realized I had begun to cry. I tried to hold back my tears, but they would not be reined in. They kept flowing down, drenching my pillow, wracking sobs shaking my shoulders. Something pulled gently at my hair. A soft caress meant to reassure and comfort. Erik was stroking my hair. My sobbing subsided after a while, but he did not stop stroking my hair. He was humming softly. His hand slid down to my neck, then to my back, moving in circles. I sighed contentedly, he had never touched me in this manner before. He took my hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. His hand was surprisingly warm. I had stopped crying now. He let go of my hand, but he did not go right away. He leaned close to me, almost lying down at my side, lifted a lock of my hair, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. The he was gone. I fell asleep to embrace much more pleasant dreams.
Erik's point of view
I had put my flute back in it's place to check on Christine. She was sleeping, but not soundly. She was tossing and turning. The poor child must have been having a nightmare. Not wanting to wake her up, I went out of the house for a little walk. I unconsciously went back to the spot I had picked for our picnic. It could have been such a perfect moment, and it was all ruined because I let my heart get the better of me. "If you love me, let me love you too" she had said. The fact that she had seen my face and fainted plunged a knife through my heart, but those innocent, hasty words tore it apart, never to be mended. I knelt down and cleared up the dishes. There was no point in leaving that on the ground. I brought the basket back to the house, emptying it without haste. I pulled out the port bottle, protected by it's metal box. Port, not my favorite liquor, but I was in great need of spirits. I poured a small glass and downed it. No harm done in a single glass. I put down the bottle and went back to the task of emptying the basket, when I heard sobbing from Christine's room. I made my way there quietly, not wanting to startle her. She was probably prey to another nightmare. I opened the door and glanced inside. She was lying on her stomach, her face hidden in the pillow. She was awake then, and not victim of a nightmare as I had first thought. I found that to be more distressing than a nightmare. I went to stand by the bed, silently watching her. She was trembling, but it could not be from cold, the room was very warm. I sat next to her, and let my hand rest on her hair. I took a lock between my fingers and caressed it. Beautiful, golden silk. I stroked her hair gently, mindful of the bruise on the back of her head. She relaxed against my touch, her breathing slowed down and her sobbing subsided. I ran my hand down to her back, savoring the warmth of her body against my skin. My hand took on a gentle circling motion, running up and down her back. I took her hand in mine and held it tight for a few minutes. I let go of her, but I was reluctant to leave now. We had never shared such intimacy, and it was all I could have now. She was not fully aware of the situation. Going any further would have been taking advantage of her, but I allowed myself to indulge one last yearning. I leaned forward and picked a lock of hair. She did not look at me once during our little interlude, but she did not show any resistance or disapproval. I kissed her hair and went away. I had other matters to attend to now.
Christine's point of view
I woke up many hours later. I knew because the candles around the room had almost entirely burned down. I tried to get up, my injured ankle hindering me greatly. There was no sound coming from Erik's room, nor from the banks of the lake. I limped my way through the house in search of Erik, but he wasn't there. I went back to my room to wait for him. Then I noticed a carefully folded note on the dresser. It was from Erik. He said he had things to attend to above, and that he would be back early in the evening. I went to the drawing room to look at the clock. 18:30. He would be back in an hour or two then. I sat on the couch to rest my ankle. It was not seriously hurt, the swelling had considerably diminished, and the pain was retreating, but I still was careful not to put my whole weight on it. It would be pointless to try and run away again. I didn't know the way, and I would not go far with my ankle in that state. I picked up a book and read, patiently awaiting Erik's return. He came back earlier than I had thought he would. He was dressed in his black tail coat once more, his black cloak draped across his shoulders, his usual white mask in place. I had never found his appearance menacing before, but now I found it curiously unsettling. He towered over me, while Raoul was almost shorter than I was. Erik saw me and strode to my side. He placed the two boxes he was carrying next to me and turned to the fireplace, staring into the dancing flames. He did not speak, neither did I. I directed my attention to the packages he had brought. Large, light brown boxes, the kind clothes shops wrapped their customers' purchases in. I turned to ask Erik about the boxes, and saw that he was at my side. I gave a startled yelp. I was not used to his moving so silently about rooms, making no more sound than a shadow would. His dropped his chin slightly, his blue eyes fixed on me. He often did that when looking at me, sometimes as an acknowledgment, sometimes as an approval, and sometimes as an accusation. I shivered, remembering that time when I had lied to him. He had seen right through it. He could have made me die of shame with the power of his eyes that day. I snapped back to reality when Erik spoke my name. "Christine, are you listening? Good. As I was saying, there is a masked ball to be held at the opera in two days, and we shall go together. To make up for the picnic." He added as an afterthought. My heart wrenched painfully. Why did he have to mention that now? He bent down and opened the first box, and I saw it contained a white dress. He picked it up and placed it in my hands, as well as a black mask. "This will be your costume." He said. He took the other box and turned to leave. "I won't let you see my disguise right now, it will be a surprise." He whispered, and disappeared. I looked at the costume he had given me. Colombine *, how ironic it would be if he went as Polichinelle! *
Erik's point of view
I hated the idea of leaving her alone in the house, but I forced myself to go. She didn't know how to leave, and she wouldn't go far with a twisted ankle anyway. I went back to the surface, I had a few things to buy. I could not even begin to figure out why I wanted to take her to that masked ball. Perhaps I wanted to try again and have an outing with her. Had I been reasonable, I would never have taken her on that picnic and would have waited like a good boy for the masked ball. At least that way she wouldn't have asked about the mask, but then I am not sure. How much had Gerard told her? Knowing him, everything, down to the most excruciating details. I sighed. It was no good getting mad at Gerard, he never retaliated in kind, even when I was deliberately provoking him. Through my ravings I noticed I had found the shop I was looking for. I bent my head and went to the counter. I gave my name , not my real one, and the clerk extended two paper boxes to me. I paid for them and left in a hurry. I was always uncomfortable around people. The way they stared at my mask made me sick, but it would be far worse if I actually removed my mask. I shook my head and thought instead of the costumes in my boxes. Colombine for Christine and Red Death for me. It seemed fitting, because somehow, we would be going as ourselves. The innocent maiden loved by all and the murderous monster feared by all. Perhaps the vicomte would go as Arlequin, now that would be an amusing sight, I sneered. Grey clouds were gathering in the sky, it would rain soon. I quickened my pace, yearning to be back to the safety of my home. I reached the opera house as the first drops began to fall. I made my way to the house without haste, safely hidden behind the walls. I took the short cut, not feeling like rowing my way across the lake. The first thing I noticed when I entered the drawing room was Christine sitting on the couch, reading then looking up at me. I felt a surge of warmth in my chest. She had been waiting for me. I had a sudden urge to smile. It felt nice to have someone waiting for you, I mused. "But she would probably prefer to be somewhere else, waiting for a certain boy with blond hair and titled blood" a bitter voice snapped. I hurried to the couch, put down my boxes and went to stare into the fire. I felt like crying now, the truth of that statement hitting me with full force. I regained control of myself, and walked back to her side. She did not notice me, she seemed lost in thought as well. Her head abruptly turned to me, and she jumped. I looked at her, how easy it was to startle her. She started to shift on the couch, my gaze was making her uncomfortable. I returned to the boxes and opened the first one. The dress was made of such rich material that it was absurd to think it suited one such as Colombine, but I would have nothing but the best for Christine. I started to talk, but she was not listening, lost in her thoughts again. I cleared my throat to catch her attention. "Christine, are you listening? Good. As I was saying, there is a masked ball to be held at the opera in two days, and we shall go together. To make up for the picnic." I had not meant to say that aloud, but the words just leaped out. I could see the remark had distressed her. I daresay she felt as bad as I did about that particular event. I put the dress in her hands, along with a black mask in the shape of butterfly. "This will be your costume." I explained, feeling stupid. It was rather obvious it was for her. I wasn't likely to invite someone else, and I certainly had no intention of cross-dressing! I took the other box and turned. " I won't let you see my disguise right now, it will be a surprise." A surprise indeed. brave Arlequin, treacherous Polichinelle, mournful Pierrot and clueless Pantalon were in for some serious competition : The Red Death Stalking Abroad!
**************************************************************************** ****************
Author's notes : Whew! Second part is finished. The masked ball will happen in the next chapter then! I want to thank all those who have reviewed my story. Thank you for the great reviews!
Just to clarify things : Erik's mask doesn't hide his whole face. The mask stops below his nose and hides his cheeks, but his mouth is not concealed, that's why he refrained from smiling, Christine would have seen him.
* Colombine, Arlequin, Polichinelle, Pantalon and Pierrot are all characters from the "Commedia dell'arte" . Colombine is married to Pantalon, but she loves Arlequin, the dashing young hero. Polichinelle is a hunchback with a nasty personality who likes Colombine. I thought it would be interesting to compare the characters from both stories. And yes, all the men above are in love with Colombine.
Special thanks to Gryffindorgrrrl for taking the time to post such nice reviews! (^_^)
To answer "Sweet Thang akas Harrys crush" 's question, the mini series this story is based on first aired in 1990, I think, and starred Charles Dance. There is a DVD of it available, but to find it is another story. I got mine from amazon.com
That version is one of the least faithful to Leroux's storyline, but the atmosphere is the one of the book. Charles Dance is one of the most intense phantoms ever to grace the screen. If you want more information, go to Amazon.com and search in the DVD section for "Phantom of the Opera". They have all the information you need on their site.
Christine's point of view
I did not sleep well, but not only because of the pain. What would Erik do now? He said anyone who saw his face was never allowed to leave, and I had seen him. I now knew he would not hurt me, he would never hurt me, even in the darkest of tempers. He would never let me go either. I would never see my friends again. Meg, Madam Giry, Raoul… A sob escaped my mouth before I could suppress it. I turned and buried my face in my pillow. I didn't want to stay down here forever! I wanted to go back to the light, away from these dark vaults. I realized I had begun to cry. I tried to hold back my tears, but they would not be reined in. They kept flowing down, drenching my pillow, wracking sobs shaking my shoulders. Something pulled gently at my hair. A soft caress meant to reassure and comfort. Erik was stroking my hair. My sobbing subsided after a while, but he did not stop stroking my hair. He was humming softly. His hand slid down to my neck, then to my back, moving in circles. I sighed contentedly, he had never touched me in this manner before. He took my hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. His hand was surprisingly warm. I had stopped crying now. He let go of my hand, but he did not go right away. He leaned close to me, almost lying down at my side, lifted a lock of my hair, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. The he was gone. I fell asleep to embrace much more pleasant dreams.
Erik's point of view
I had put my flute back in it's place to check on Christine. She was sleeping, but not soundly. She was tossing and turning. The poor child must have been having a nightmare. Not wanting to wake her up, I went out of the house for a little walk. I unconsciously went back to the spot I had picked for our picnic. It could have been such a perfect moment, and it was all ruined because I let my heart get the better of me. "If you love me, let me love you too" she had said. The fact that she had seen my face and fainted plunged a knife through my heart, but those innocent, hasty words tore it apart, never to be mended. I knelt down and cleared up the dishes. There was no point in leaving that on the ground. I brought the basket back to the house, emptying it without haste. I pulled out the port bottle, protected by it's metal box. Port, not my favorite liquor, but I was in great need of spirits. I poured a small glass and downed it. No harm done in a single glass. I put down the bottle and went back to the task of emptying the basket, when I heard sobbing from Christine's room. I made my way there quietly, not wanting to startle her. She was probably prey to another nightmare. I opened the door and glanced inside. She was lying on her stomach, her face hidden in the pillow. She was awake then, and not victim of a nightmare as I had first thought. I found that to be more distressing than a nightmare. I went to stand by the bed, silently watching her. She was trembling, but it could not be from cold, the room was very warm. I sat next to her, and let my hand rest on her hair. I took a lock between my fingers and caressed it. Beautiful, golden silk. I stroked her hair gently, mindful of the bruise on the back of her head. She relaxed against my touch, her breathing slowed down and her sobbing subsided. I ran my hand down to her back, savoring the warmth of her body against my skin. My hand took on a gentle circling motion, running up and down her back. I took her hand in mine and held it tight for a few minutes. I let go of her, but I was reluctant to leave now. We had never shared such intimacy, and it was all I could have now. She was not fully aware of the situation. Going any further would have been taking advantage of her, but I allowed myself to indulge one last yearning. I leaned forward and picked a lock of hair. She did not look at me once during our little interlude, but she did not show any resistance or disapproval. I kissed her hair and went away. I had other matters to attend to now.
Christine's point of view
I woke up many hours later. I knew because the candles around the room had almost entirely burned down. I tried to get up, my injured ankle hindering me greatly. There was no sound coming from Erik's room, nor from the banks of the lake. I limped my way through the house in search of Erik, but he wasn't there. I went back to my room to wait for him. Then I noticed a carefully folded note on the dresser. It was from Erik. He said he had things to attend to above, and that he would be back early in the evening. I went to the drawing room to look at the clock. 18:30. He would be back in an hour or two then. I sat on the couch to rest my ankle. It was not seriously hurt, the swelling had considerably diminished, and the pain was retreating, but I still was careful not to put my whole weight on it. It would be pointless to try and run away again. I didn't know the way, and I would not go far with my ankle in that state. I picked up a book and read, patiently awaiting Erik's return. He came back earlier than I had thought he would. He was dressed in his black tail coat once more, his black cloak draped across his shoulders, his usual white mask in place. I had never found his appearance menacing before, but now I found it curiously unsettling. He towered over me, while Raoul was almost shorter than I was. Erik saw me and strode to my side. He placed the two boxes he was carrying next to me and turned to the fireplace, staring into the dancing flames. He did not speak, neither did I. I directed my attention to the packages he had brought. Large, light brown boxes, the kind clothes shops wrapped their customers' purchases in. I turned to ask Erik about the boxes, and saw that he was at my side. I gave a startled yelp. I was not used to his moving so silently about rooms, making no more sound than a shadow would. His dropped his chin slightly, his blue eyes fixed on me. He often did that when looking at me, sometimes as an acknowledgment, sometimes as an approval, and sometimes as an accusation. I shivered, remembering that time when I had lied to him. He had seen right through it. He could have made me die of shame with the power of his eyes that day. I snapped back to reality when Erik spoke my name. "Christine, are you listening? Good. As I was saying, there is a masked ball to be held at the opera in two days, and we shall go together. To make up for the picnic." He added as an afterthought. My heart wrenched painfully. Why did he have to mention that now? He bent down and opened the first box, and I saw it contained a white dress. He picked it up and placed it in my hands, as well as a black mask. "This will be your costume." He said. He took the other box and turned to leave. "I won't let you see my disguise right now, it will be a surprise." He whispered, and disappeared. I looked at the costume he had given me. Colombine *, how ironic it would be if he went as Polichinelle! *
Erik's point of view
I hated the idea of leaving her alone in the house, but I forced myself to go. She didn't know how to leave, and she wouldn't go far with a twisted ankle anyway. I went back to the surface, I had a few things to buy. I could not even begin to figure out why I wanted to take her to that masked ball. Perhaps I wanted to try again and have an outing with her. Had I been reasonable, I would never have taken her on that picnic and would have waited like a good boy for the masked ball. At least that way she wouldn't have asked about the mask, but then I am not sure. How much had Gerard told her? Knowing him, everything, down to the most excruciating details. I sighed. It was no good getting mad at Gerard, he never retaliated in kind, even when I was deliberately provoking him. Through my ravings I noticed I had found the shop I was looking for. I bent my head and went to the counter. I gave my name , not my real one, and the clerk extended two paper boxes to me. I paid for them and left in a hurry. I was always uncomfortable around people. The way they stared at my mask made me sick, but it would be far worse if I actually removed my mask. I shook my head and thought instead of the costumes in my boxes. Colombine for Christine and Red Death for me. It seemed fitting, because somehow, we would be going as ourselves. The innocent maiden loved by all and the murderous monster feared by all. Perhaps the vicomte would go as Arlequin, now that would be an amusing sight, I sneered. Grey clouds were gathering in the sky, it would rain soon. I quickened my pace, yearning to be back to the safety of my home. I reached the opera house as the first drops began to fall. I made my way to the house without haste, safely hidden behind the walls. I took the short cut, not feeling like rowing my way across the lake. The first thing I noticed when I entered the drawing room was Christine sitting on the couch, reading then looking up at me. I felt a surge of warmth in my chest. She had been waiting for me. I had a sudden urge to smile. It felt nice to have someone waiting for you, I mused. "But she would probably prefer to be somewhere else, waiting for a certain boy with blond hair and titled blood" a bitter voice snapped. I hurried to the couch, put down my boxes and went to stare into the fire. I felt like crying now, the truth of that statement hitting me with full force. I regained control of myself, and walked back to her side. She did not notice me, she seemed lost in thought as well. Her head abruptly turned to me, and she jumped. I looked at her, how easy it was to startle her. She started to shift on the couch, my gaze was making her uncomfortable. I returned to the boxes and opened the first one. The dress was made of such rich material that it was absurd to think it suited one such as Colombine, but I would have nothing but the best for Christine. I started to talk, but she was not listening, lost in her thoughts again. I cleared my throat to catch her attention. "Christine, are you listening? Good. As I was saying, there is a masked ball to be held at the opera in two days, and we shall go together. To make up for the picnic." I had not meant to say that aloud, but the words just leaped out. I could see the remark had distressed her. I daresay she felt as bad as I did about that particular event. I put the dress in her hands, along with a black mask in the shape of butterfly. "This will be your costume." I explained, feeling stupid. It was rather obvious it was for her. I wasn't likely to invite someone else, and I certainly had no intention of cross-dressing! I took the other box and turned. " I won't let you see my disguise right now, it will be a surprise." A surprise indeed. brave Arlequin, treacherous Polichinelle, mournful Pierrot and clueless Pantalon were in for some serious competition : The Red Death Stalking Abroad!
**************************************************************************** ****************
Author's notes : Whew! Second part is finished. The masked ball will happen in the next chapter then! I want to thank all those who have reviewed my story. Thank you for the great reviews!
Just to clarify things : Erik's mask doesn't hide his whole face. The mask stops below his nose and hides his cheeks, but his mouth is not concealed, that's why he refrained from smiling, Christine would have seen him.
* Colombine, Arlequin, Polichinelle, Pantalon and Pierrot are all characters from the "Commedia dell'arte" . Colombine is married to Pantalon, but she loves Arlequin, the dashing young hero. Polichinelle is a hunchback with a nasty personality who likes Colombine. I thought it would be interesting to compare the characters from both stories. And yes, all the men above are in love with Colombine.
Special thanks to Gryffindorgrrrl for taking the time to post such nice reviews! (^_^)
To answer "Sweet Thang akas Harrys crush" 's question, the mini series this story is based on first aired in 1990, I think, and starred Charles Dance. There is a DVD of it available, but to find it is another story. I got mine from amazon.com
That version is one of the least faithful to Leroux's storyline, but the atmosphere is the one of the book. Charles Dance is one of the most intense phantoms ever to grace the screen. If you want more information, go to Amazon.com and search in the DVD section for "Phantom of the Opera". They have all the information you need on their site.