Chapter Fourteen:  It's An Uphill Climb

It was Erik's form stiffening in surprise which woke Christine the next morning.  She brought her head up from his shoulder to see what it was that had startled him so.

"It's a darn good sight that no one is here to see us like this, you know,"  Erik muttered as she gazed into his eyes past the mask.  And as he watched her, the trust shining through, his voice dropped to an impossible low octave, and he murmured,  "Propriety be damned!"  And then his lips were descending upon hers.

They stayed in that embrace an impossibly long time, before either of them were ready to part, and when they did, the look in either set of eyes mirrored the opposing set.  Both filled with a fierce longing.

Erik's voice was ragged when he finally spoke,  "We can't keep doing this."  With a swift movement, he disentangled himself from Christine's embrace, and was off the divan, finally choosing to lean on the mantelpiece.

Christine sat, confused for a moment at what seemed to be a strong rejection.  She watched as he stood, stiff, unbending, staring at the wall.  Finally, she stood, and walked over to him, and upon reaching him laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Can't keep doing what, Erik?"

Erik turned, and Christine could see the raw yearning in his eyes.  "Can't keep . . . we . . . Christine, I . . . oh –" the curse came quick, and in a language she didn't understand.  Once more, Erik put distance between them.

"Remember that night . . . the night we went to the Bois . . ."  Erik's tongue stumbled over the words, trying to re-assure her that it was not a rejection he was giving her.  "The dress, Christine, the dress.  And how I lost my temper, and cursed your innocence . . . Christine, the time is not right, not yet.  I refuse to . . . not until it can be right.  Oh, how I want to, but . . . and I'm making a damned botch of this!"

Christine's eyes widened as she thought of that night, and how he had told her to bolt her door.  The way he had acted, almost as if he were ill, and then, after she had went into the room . . . and then the gasp came, quick and loud at the realization of his words.

"You're afraid,"  Christine finally said when the shock wore down.  The words fell from her lips quietly, but with no less power.  "You wanted me that night, didn't you?  And I had thought you were merely . . . oh."  And if it was possible, her eyes widened further, and her hand flew to her mouth as she turned around.

"Yes,"  Erik rasped out.  "I am afraid.  I am afraid that I will lose all control, and I don't want to take you like some mindless beast.  Even though it would mean so much more in my mind, it wouldn't in yours.  Because you deserve to be cherished, and savored, and, oh Christine, you deserve music and magic and pleasure.  And beauty, the one thing I am unable to be for you, I can't be beautiful."

"Oh Erik,"  Christine sighed as she went to him once again, although she stopped before she touched him, for worry of provoking him,  "Erik, true beauty is something we find within ourselves.  It's not an outward thing as you were taught to believe."

Erik's head rose, and the eyes behind the mask met Christine's, still full of a fierce longing, but also filled with a shimmer of doubt and hope.  "You . . . you truly believe that?"

"You have taught me that,"  Christine corrected.  "There is beauty inside you.  How could there not be?  Mon ange de la musique.  You, who have taught me so much already, and at times without even knowing it."

The doubt dissipated, and was replaced by wonderment.  Then, slow smiles spread across both their faces, and Erik held out his hand to her, and his smile completed as she took it in hers.

"Now,"  Christine continued,  "You said last night any discussions we may need to have would have to wait until morning."

"Yes, I did,"  Erik sighed, knowing immediately that something was still on her mind.

"I spoke to Meg yesterday afternoon,"  Christine went on,  "And she would love to come, but we have a problem."

Erik's sigh gave way to a groan.  Madame Giry, of course, did not wish her daughter to travel without appropriate chaperone.

"Madame Giry said that I alone am not an acceptable chaperone, and she wouldn't think of letting Meg go unless . . ."

Erik's eyes narrowed as he heard the unspoken thought in his mind.  "Absolutely not!"  he exclaimed, his voice sounding nearly like  a hiss.

Christine's eyes closed upon themselves, before she came up with a retort,  "And why not meet her?  I doubt that Madame Giry would realize who you are!"

"I would not take that bet if I were you, my dear,"  Erik replied.   "Madame Giry knows exactly who and what I am.  She knows what I look like, Christine."

Christine paled,  "But . . . how?"

"Before I came to the Opera . . . before there was an Opera house in Paris.  She's . . . she's never spoken of it to any one else, nor will she, but, Christine, she's known for quite a while now."

Christine's lips widened into an 'O', and it was a good while before she'd regained her composure.

"She would never allow Meg to come if she knew just who you were marrying, of that I am fairly certain."

"Yet, if she knows, well, if she were really afraid of you, why would she not have said something to someone?"

Erik sighed, and spread his hands in a gesture of defeat,  "Because of certain things I have done for them, I'm sure."

"Erik, I sincerely doubt that Madame Giry would hate you because of your face.  Meg told me once that you were good to her and her mother.  And if Meg is the kind of person who believes that the face does not make the man, then I doubt it could possibly matter to her mother!"

"And just what makes you think that it doesn't?"  Erik asked, rounding on her.

"Because Meg told me so when I-"  Christine abruptly cut herself off before she finished the thought.

"What?"  Erik asked, as his eyes narrowed.  The sudden stiffness in his posture had become very familiar to her as the stance he took just before the anger would strike.  "What did you do?"

"I . . . I told her about the mask."

"You told her about my face then."  Erik answered simply, quietly, even though Christine could still see his hands balling up into fists.

"Yes,"  Christine whispered,  "and she said that it didn't matter, that it was what's in your heart that counts.  And you know, she's right, and I've told you that before."

Erik's hand unfisted, and his posture relaxed slightly.  Yet he didn't move, and his eyes never wavered as he stalked toward Christine.  His hand slowly came up, and his finger chucked her under the chin, a motion for him to bring her downcast eyes to meet his.  As her eyes met his, they locked, and it seemed as if a conversation went on without words, as facial expressions changed from worry and anger, to understanding and forgiveness.  And finally, Erik sighed in resolution,  "I'll think about it."

As he said that, Christine smiled.

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Later that afternoon, as Christine was at rehearsals, Erik made his way out of the lair and through the streets, careful to keep his muffler up around his face to hide the mask.  And thankfully, no one spared him a second glance, and he managed to make his way to Nadir's flat on the Rue de Rivoli without incident.

A sound knock on the door and it opened to show Darius on the other side.  The manservant stood aside and gestured Erik within, then led him without word to the sitting room where Nadir sat, reading a paper.  He heard the movement in the room, and glanced up, almost doing a double take when he saw Erik standing in the doorway to the room.

"Erik!  Well, what brings you here?"  Nadir asked as he gestured Erik to sit in the chair opposite him.

Erik's hand moved to a pocked concealed within his coat and pulled out a piece of paper, which he handed to Nadir.  He watched as Nadir read the parchment, and then as the smile lit up his friend's face.

"I would be honored, Erik, to attend this wedding."

"Good, then it's settled.  Also, if you wish, Christine and I would like it if you would travel with us to Rouen when we go back to see to the final preparations.  Lodging, of course, has already been taken care of."

"Oh?  You two seem to have thoroughly thought things through then.  Are you going to tell me about your journey?  It seems to have been successful."

"Yes, you could say that, Nadir,"  Erik's lips turned into a half smile.  He recounted the encounters they had in Boscherville, Christine's idea to find Marie, and watched as Nadir's eyes widened when Erik told him of his relation to Gerard.

"What are the chances?"

"Slim, I would say,"  Erik sighed contentedly.  "I admit, it was a bit of a shock, and even more so when he welcomed me with open arms.  Nadir, I don't think I've ever gotten that reaction from anyone on first meeting . . . with Christine, when she first saw my face, she was rightfully terrified.  I'm ashamed to admit I didn't handle that well myself, but I know it was some time before I truly regained her trust.  With Gerard, he has not even asked to see, although I know his wife described it.  I've only known that . . . no, well, I've never really known that, not even with . . ."  Erik trailed off as he thought about the past, the one time he thought he'd had someone who accepted him without question.  And then the betrayal he'd felt when asked to take off the mask.

"Erik?"  Nadir questioned, concern written on his face.

Erik's head snapped around, and his eyes lost that lost look that had taken over them.  "I apologize, I'm afraid I was just thinking.  Nadir, they welcomed us, really welcomed us.  And it . . . it amazed me."

"One of these days, Erik, you will come to understand that even though the human race as a whole may be full of people who are filled with prejudiced, that not everyone is."

"You were.  When you first met me, and do not deny it."

"No, when I first met you, Erik, I was angry at the Shah for sending me away from . . . even then I knew Reza didn't have long, and I resented you for that.  Wrongly, I might add."

Erik nodded, seeing the truth in Nadir's word.  "You know, I can not blame you for that.  In fact, I remember telling you something to that extent a time or two."

"Yes, you did,"  Nadir admitted.  "You are certain that it is not a problem for me to stay at your uncle's then?"

"He insisted, Nadir."

"When do we leave then?"

"Christine and I promised to return a week before the wedding."

"And how will we be getting there?"

"Gerard insisted I take his carriage when we came back to Paris.  No matter how hard I argued against it.  He's got a strong will, that man."

"Perhaps it runs in the family then."


Erik chuckled at that statement.  "I almost get the feeling he takes it as a rejection if I don't take his generosity.  Almost as if his giving to me satisfies a need of his own."

"Perhaps it does, Erik.  There are some people who live purely for others.  To be honest, does it not please you to do things for Christine?"

"Of course it pleases me, Daroga.  But it's different, that's . . . that's the love talking."

"There you have it then.  People can be capable of a great deal of love, if you only allow them in, Erik."

"So I am slowly learning, my friend."

"Now then, you only said you needed to be back in Rouen a week before the wedding.  You should know I have never been to Rouen, how long is the journey?"

"Two and a half days,"  Erik answered.  "So we shall leave nine days from now."

"That is what I needed to know.  Is there anything I should bring?"

"Don't worry, just bring yourself and whatever necessities you need,"  Erik replied, and took his pocket watch out.  "As lovely as this afternoon has been, Nadir, I fear I must take my leave."

"Christine,"  Nadir stated knowingly.

"Yes, I promised her I would be at the performance tonight.  Will you be attending?"

"No, not tonight, I have another engagement."

"Pity,"  Erik said, then after a moment's thought, continued,  "but then again, maybe not.  La Carlotta is likely singing tonight.  Unless she had another of her rages, which would be a blessing."

Nadir shook his head, vainly trying to hide his amusement.  "Now, you know no one else goes to the Opera for the music, they go to see and be seen."

"Yes, more's the pity,"  Erik replied somberly.  "They never quite see.  If I don't see you before, I shall see you next week.  I'll send word beforehand of our departure time."

"Alright then, Erik,"  Nadir stood with him, and walked out to the door with him.  Erik gave Nadir a courtly bow at the door, and then promptly disappeared down the Rue de Rivoli.

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Author's Notes:  Ahhh, another chapter!  And our end is coming slowly closer . . . still a few questions, will Meg get to go after all, and will Raoul still play a part in our little Opera?  No, I'm not going to answer just yet!

angelofnight:  No, unfortunately, Ted was on vacation, but Tim Martin Gleason played our Phantom (he's usually Raoul)  Oh, and I got to go on closeout in Philly (that made the third time in a month I'd seen it, and twice in a matter of three nights)  and oh my!  I have seen Ted, he was my first Phantom in November (check out my bio and you will see my comments!) and he was soooo excellent, he made me cry.  Tim is also an excellent Phantom, the first time he was not as good as he was the second time I saw him.  He does an excellent Angry Erik, though!  I really do recommend if the tour comes your way and Tim is playing the Phantom for a night, to go see it.  I would go again, if I could, to see him.

KR:  LOL!  Well, this song is actually one of my fave Celine songs, and it really does suit Erik well, especially in this setting . . . although, if you want to imagine something different, since angelofnight brought him up, I've been listening to Ted Keegan's Music of the Night while writing it, as well as Celine.  MOTN is one of his strongest points in the show, it really is.

Deirdre:  Hope the next test goes better, and um, yeah, the fop, well, no comment, and I will soon enough answer the question about Meg.  Hope you enjoyed the scene with the Daroga!

Fordgirl:  I know this didn't come up in your review of this story, but I'd read in one of yours that you were returning to South Jersey for the holidays?  Mind if I ask where?  I am also from South Jersey, and you have me curious, especially the way you put it tells me you must love your home as much as I do!  Magical, for sure!  And I'm glad you're enjoying this story so far!

With two more POTO visits now under my belt in this last week, I'm sure my muse will be working overtime!  Actually, even though I haven't written it yet, I know what's going to happen next, so . . . next chapter shortly!  And thanks once again, all of you, and hope you continue to enjoy, you are really all making my day (well, almost as good as getting to see POTO!) with all your beautiful reviews!  Merci beaucoup!

@}-----,----- Stemwinder -----'-----{@