Chapter Three:  When you're ready to go

"We still need to figure out how we are going to manage to be married,"  Christine ruminated the next morning as she sat on the divan in the drawing room.  Erik stood by the

"While I admit that I haven't paid much attention to the laws that the leaders of this country have put into place, I am sure I have some contacts who have,"  Erik replied.  He leaned over and kissed the top of her forehead.  "Don't fear, we will find a way."

"I know there has to be a way, Erik.  I'm afraid I'm as ignorant as you are in this endeavor.  I've never been married, never known anyone about to be married,"  Christine continued.  'And the one person I have to ask, I can't ask anymore.'

Almost as if reading her thought, Erik said,  "And I highly doubt that if you were to ask your Vicomte for help that he would help us."

Christine sighed outwardly, not understanding the uncanny knack he had for figuring out the direction of her thoughts.  "No, I couldn't ask him."

Erik nodded his head, almost as if he understood. 

"Who would you ask?"  Christine inquired, her thoughts returning to the little man in the passage, the man who had told her about the wedding dress.

And she wondered, if not for that ill-fated trip to the Bois, would he have given in to his obvious desire to see her in that dress?  That was the night she had known, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Erik did indeed desire her.

Erik reflected silently for a moment.  He had no doubt that she'd run into Jules, he'd realized that the moment he'd discovered the packet of morphine on the script of Don Juan Triumphant.  "I know at times you think me a total recluse, but I do have a few people I trust."

Christine frowned slightly, realizing he wasn't going to give up any more information than he already had.  'One day,'  she vowed,  'one day he will tell me.'

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Erik waited impatiently on the far bank of the underground lake for Nadir to appear.  And very impatiently consulted his pocket watch – the Daroga was very late.

An eternity passed in the span of five minutes and Nadir emerged from the passage.

"You're late, Daroga,"  Erik chastised.

"I was unavoidably detained,"  Nadir replied.  "I've never seen you quite this tense, Erik.  Would you care to explain why you are so snappish this afternoon?"

"I'm not snappish,"  Erik denied.

Nadir shook his head sadly.  "You've also been pacing.  I can see your footprints in the dust."

Erik rounded on him, stood mere feet before the Persian before checking his temper.  Sighing, he turned away from the man he still believed to be his conscience.  "If I am impatient, it is merely because I require your advice, Nadir."

Nadir's eyebrows raised at Erik's admission.  "Advice?"

"Yes, advice.  I know little of these matters, you see, and Christine,"  Erik spread his hands in supplication.

"Christine?  Christine Daae?  You have her again, then?"

"You make too much of the matter, Nadir.  She is with me completely of her own accord, I assure you.  I merely needed to ask a question of you that neither of us quite knew the positive answer to."

Nadir sighed, and asked,  "Your question, Erik?"

Erik's eyes lit although the rest of his face remained devoid of emotion.  "How does one go about getting married without a birth certificate, without knowing one's own last name?"

"Marriage?  Erik, you jest, do you not?"

Erik circled Nadir as a vulture circles a bird of prey, the dangerous overtones evident in his body language as he raged,  "Would I jest about so important a matter?  Does it surprise you that I could contemplate marriage?  Do you honestly think that I am less of a man merely because I have the face of a monster?  Is it truly that unbelievable that a woman could come to love me, despite my curse?"

"I never doubted that you had the desires of any normal man, Erik.  You forget I was there when the Shah presented you with the gift of a bride all those years ago.  Or did you lose that particular memory in an opium induced cloud?"

"No,"  Erik rasped,  "I haven't forgotten.

"It just took me by surprise.  The last I heard, Christine was engaged to the Vicomte de Chagny.  It is a natural assumption, Erik, nothing more."

Erik stopped his circling, and stood to face his friend.  "Do you plan to go in circles all day, or will you answer my question."

"If you answer a few of mine in return."

Erik sighed, deflated.  "As you wish."

"Mind you, I'm not sure of the exact laws in France Erik, I don't know how things work in your church.  Now, don't get angry, I am well aware that you don't practice the religion you were born to.  I know full well you would never go into the church uncertain of your acceptance."

Erik waved his hand in dismissal of the thought.

Nadir continued,  "I do believe that there are others who can perform these rituals in Europe, are there not?"

"Possibly,"  Erik answered thoughtfully.  "But the matter of my particular dilemma."

"You do not know your last name, Erik?"

"No,"  Erik replied, the sadness in his voice apparent.  "As a child, the few people who came to our home would address my mother either by her given name, or merely as Madam.  As a child, I thought little of it.  And the few people who came and saw me,"  he spread his hands again, this time in defeat,  "Merely addressed me as Erik.  Or child.  Possibly someone addressed me as monster."

Nadir shook his head in sadness.  "Perhaps if we knew where you were born.  Do you know any of that, Erik?"

"Boscherville,"  he answered,  "St. Martin de Boscherville."

"Perhaps record of your birth would be contained in the parish archives?"

"Perhaps,"  Erik admitted.  "I had not thought of that, although, you see, I heard Mass at the house, never at the church.  I do not know if I would even be on record as a parishioner.  My mother would, most likely.  I?  I am not so certain."

"Your mother evidently cared enough for your soul to see it had proper guidance when you were young.  Perhaps the priest that performed Mass for you is still there."

"Nadir, it has been over forty years since I lived in Boscherville.  Father Mansart was an old man even then, much older than I am now.  Although perhaps . . ."  Erik's thought trailed off.  "Perhaps there may yet be someone there who would know."  A strange smile twisted his distorted face.  "Thank you, Nadir, you have been most helpful."  Erik sought at that moment to disappear, but was halted by the sound of Nadir's voice.

"You have not yet answered my questions, Erik.  Deplorable manners, forgetting a promise already."

Erik whirled around at that, his face grim yet accepting.  "Ever the Daroga, Nadir?"

Nadir gave his own gesture of supplication.  "As always."

"Your questions then, Daroga."

"You are not blackmailing the girl, or the boy?"

Erik growled, and his fists clenched.  "You require proof?"

"It would help, Erik.  I have no doubt the girl is unharmed, I know you too well to think that.  I merely wish to soothe my own conscience.  You understand, of course?"

The growl deepened.  "Of course I understand, Daroga.  You still think that this face of mine means I am a monster in spirit as well as physically."

"Nothing of the sort, Erik.  I know you have a soul, you have remorse for your past actions.  I've seen enough of that to know that your monstrous deeds were not all of your own making.  I know what your life has been, Erik.  Allah forgives the man who kills in self defense.  If Allah can forgive, then so can I."

Erik's defense began to crumble.  It was not the first time that Nadir had let on that he knew more than Erik would ever admit to.

"You wish to see her?"

Nadir nodded.

Erik sighed.  It went against every instinct of his to bring Nadir to the lair, yet if that was the way it had to be . . . "Get in the boat, Nadir."

The surprise was instantaneous on Nadir's face as he did what any sensible person did when Erik gave them a direct command.  He obeyed without question.

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Christine rose from the divan as the two men entered the house, and the surprise was written on her face as for the first time, she saw another living soul in Erik's domain.

Nadir quickly wiped his own shock off of his face as Erik gracefully motioned to Christine to join them.  The joy on her face was evident, the way she looked at Erik shone with a love so pure, a love he had not seen since the day Rookheeya had died all those year ago.

It was he who broke the silence in the room, as he lapsed into Persian,  "I apologize for my disbelief, Erik.  One merely needs to look at her face to know that she is in love with you."

Erik's face betrayed a host of emotions, a quick frown of displeasure at his friend's manners, and then the look of absolute devotion as his eyes returned to his beloved.  He answered quickly in Persian,  "It is forgiven,"  before continuing in French.  "Christine, please excuse our deplorable manners for conversing in a language you do not understand.  I would like you to meet an old friend of mine, Nadir Kahn."  Turning slightly to include Nadir in the tableau, he gestured,  "Nadir, may I introduce Christine Daae."

"A pleasure, Mademoiselle,"  Nadir bowed formally.

Christine smiled serenely, making a similar, more feminine gesture.  "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Monsieur Kahn."

"Nadir,"  he corrected instinctively.

"If I am to call you Nadir,"  Christine replied,  "Then you must call me Christine."

"Of course,"  Nadir returned, and then turned to face Erik.  Erik merely nodded his approval as he moved to take Christine's hand in his own.

"I have asked Nadir his advice on our problem,"  Erik continued without preamble.  "He did come up with a suggestion that may help us."

Christine raised her eyebrows in question as she glanced between the two men.  "And that is?"

"That perhaps there may be some record in the town where I was born,"  Erik answered.  "It would mean a short journey, two weeks at most."

Christine sensed Erik's unasked question.  "Then we must go,"  she answered.

The corners of Erik's mouth lifted and his eyes lighted.  "As you wish,"  he said simply.

Christine returned his smile freely as Nadir stood back and watched them in wonderment.  His friend had finally found love, and was loved in return

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