Chapter Ten:
Meg Really Does Meet Erik
(We're Hoping Anyway)
The heavy door swung back to reveal the dimly lit sitting room of the underground house. Several candles still burned, the wicks barely protruding from puddles of wax. Christine stepped in confidently, no longer even slightly perturbed by anything in the house; darkness had long since become a trusted friend of Erik's wife.
"Erik? Are you here darling?" she shouted cheerfully. Turning back to find Meg still standing nervously on the threshold, "Come on Meg! It's bloody cold out there!" Meg walked in tentatively, surprised to find it pleasantly warm and lavishly decorated, comparing to her own home: luxurious.
"It's beautiful Christine, really beautiful." She spun in circles, looking about her wonderingly.
"It is. I thought so too the first time I found myself here… Which is really the best phrase to describe it. Meg snickered lightly,
"So, he's not here?"
"It doesn't appear so; but with Erik that's a rather good sign to the contrary." She leaned over the hearth, the smoldering coals gleaming with a warm red heat. The glow played across her features and made her face ruddy as she lit a long slender wooden stick, with which she could light the lamps.
Cradling the small flame with her hand she scuttled about the room lighting the glass domed oil lamps, finishing she tossed the stick into the fire along with a few faggots to bring the flames to life from their sleep.
"He should be here…" Christine muttered anxiously, hugging herself with a nervous shiver. Meg eyed her,
"If you're nervous I should run about in sheer terror."
"I'm sure it's nothing… Perhaps he-" And without any decent warning; there he was. Christine let out a cry of relief and stood with a wide grin splitting her face.
Meg just stared, not at all upholding a lady's grace. One moment they had been talking alone, and the next, there he stood in the middle of the room without so much as a sound to reveal his prior presence. She took him in in stages, not seeing any other way to cope with him.
He was an overpowering presence, tall and imposing. Quite possibly, the most intimidating person she had ever met, just as much mentally as physically if Christine was to be believed.
A long swirling, flowing black cloak poured over his broad shoulders and down his back, accentuating his perfect posture. The velvet of the cloak masking his figure so much as white cloth masked his face. His eyes were on her, piercing her and seeing her thoughts as easily as if they were written upon her face. Meg took a few shallow breaths as she looked at him, seeing that the lines of his features beneath the mask were strikingly handsome.
The cascade of black stirred and glided over his arm as he extended a hand, a gloved hand, but that could not conceal its beauty and exquisiteness. The fingers were long and slender, easily deft at any task, moving with and unfurling motion submersed in grace and laced with elegance.
Meg stuttered to no effect at this gesture of acknowledgement until Christine rescued her from her moment of struggling,
"Meg, this is my esteemed husband Erik: the Phantom of the Opera. Erik you already know Meg." He smiled with a rather devious glint sparking in his eye, still keeping his gaze trained on Meg. The look was barely caught as he swept down into a magnificent bow with a flourish of his hand, taking off his hat as he did so. Once the hat that overshadowed his features quite effectively was off he did not replace it, but set it down. In the absence of the hat, several wisps of his thick hair slid down into his face, silky and shimmering black it hung just below the bottoms of his eyes and in back, Meg could see he also had a little (unbraided) pigtail.
The cloak, however, peculiarly remained. It stayed in place for the most part; he tossed the left side over his shoulder, but kept the right rigidly taunt against his body.
"What's wrong?" Christine asked with confusion, obviously perturbed.
"Nothing my dear, why?" he replied silkily, almost coaxing with the auditory caress that was his voice. Such a voice! Meg's mind couldn't process anymore wonders! It hurt her; the beauty of it overloading her already preoccupied senses. She could not have told you why, if you could have asked her, but she began to cry. Christine was not distracted,
"Your cloak. You never wear it inside, especially in a lady's company." She crossed her slim arms, glaring at him expectantly,
"My dear, we are both displaying appalling manners, we do have a guest, do we not?" she was undaunted,
"Meg will forgive us I'm sure. Now, what are you hiding from me?" he sighed, one of those wonderful hands reaching up to pull out the knot that held his cloak in place.
It slid to the floor in a waterfall of black velvet and fell in an unlovely heap. Revealed, was a fine white shirt with billowing sleeves, now stained a dark red by a fluid as thick as pudding oozing along the fibers in the fabric.
"Erik!" Christine gasped, her hand flying to her throat as she stepped back in astonishment. He sighed again, obviously hating himself for causing her pain,
"A group of vagabonds were attempting to rob a beggar and child. I…there were twelve of them, but I do not think it is my blood."
"You don't think?" Christine asked wiping at a tear that rolled down her cheek as she bent to examine him. "Can you not feel anything?" she asked miserably. Not waiting for an answer, she sought to assure herself of his well being by her own means.
"Christine!"
"You're hurt, Meg knows that, don't you Meg?" she spared a glance at her friend for the first time since Erik came home. Meg had recovered from initial shock and nodded, Christine turned back to unbuttoning his shirt with a 'so there' look on her face.
"I must apologize Mademoiselle," Erik began helplessly,
"No Monsieur, I quite understand." She took a deep shuddering breath, "Perhaps I can help?"
"Wait until I see if he's bleeding, then I can tell you what's what." Christine muttered, peeling the soiled linen away from his skin where it clung viva the blood. Erik never spoke a word of protest or uttered a whimper as a gaping hole was revealed in his side.
Christine cried out almost as if she were in pain herself at the sight, then leaned closer to survey the gash with more care, finally she let out a sigh of relief.
"It only looks serious!" she pulled the shirt off his back and used it to mop at the blood still seeping from the wound. Meg covered her own gasp by motioning toward the brilliant red vaguely.
In actual truth, she had never seen a man before without the three or four layers of clothing that society required. Of course she wouldn't have, she was unmarried after all. She snuck another glance at him; Lord he was beautiful, and most impressive. I will tell you in confidence that Meg was quite justly awed, Erik was a fine figure of a man that the ancient sculptors would have wept to behold. Christine was a lucky woman, and she definitely knew it.
She chose that particular moment to call Meg over and bade her make certain that Erik stayed put while she prepared a bandage. He grinned lopsidedly,
"I'm crushed you do not trust me alone."
"I know you too well." She squeezed his hand and left the room quickly. Meg stood shyly on the other side of the room opposite him, not knowing what she ought to do or say. She observed rather abruptly that Erik was looking at her with a compassionate smile.
"How goes dancing Mademoiselle?" he asked, she started at the sudden question but silently blessed him for it with her eyes,
"Very well Monsieur, for which I have largely you to thank. My gratitude Monsieur." He waved away her thanks dismissively,
"I merely enjoy the success of the talented." Meg smiled,
"A fine taste that has won you a wife." He seemed reflective,
"I never considered it, I was really drawn to her, for it seemed such a heinous waste!" he muttered darkly, "There is nothing so terrible as waste Mademoiselle Giry, it is an ugly thing." She nodded, seeing 'ugly' as the horrific expletive that his voice made it.
"Christine never could have been what she is without your help."
"My teachings Mademoiselle." Meg shook her head to indicate she had been right the first time.
"You did far more for her than teach her to sing Monsieur, far more." She paused, "I'm her best friend, really her only friend and she has confided in me very much. I think there is little I do not know." Erik laughed; wincing slightly as a jolt of pain reminded him of the gash in his side.
"You assume too much, I know what Christine has told you and there is a great deal more to it then that." He paused in thought, contemplating the situation. "Perhaps some day I will tell you more…" a lifetime of distrust and wariness is not easily disregarded and cast aside to be forgotten. Meg would have to earn Erik's trust; he was not capable of giving it freely.
Now that Christine had time to think whilst she hunted around for material to make a bandage she reviewed that she was rather impressed with her husband's behavior thus far. It would be nice to have some one to invite over other than Nadir, not to degrade that particular gentleman.
She loved him dearly, but there was no substitute for a good girlfriend to chatter with. Besides, she couldn't talk about Erik to Nadir, not in the manner she wished to. (Having been through a great deal of high points of her life with no one to talk to she was bursting with things to say.) Erik had been remarkably accepting of Meg and Christine took it as an excellent sign.
"I've returned!" Christine exclaimed triumphantly, entering the formally quiet sitting room. Meg jumped, Erik, (evidently) had heard her coming. Christine crossed the room and began to wrap a neat bandage around Erik's middle while he lifted his arms for her and rolled his eyes at Meg.
"I saw that darling." She murmured in a faux polite tone.
"As was my intent." He retorted. She giggled and poked him just as she finished with the bandage. "I had best clothe myself, and for that I am afraid, I shall require your assistance my dear." She nodded as though she'd deduced as much and walked over to Meg.
"I'm dreadfully sorry, I know it's terrifically rude but we must leave on your own for a moment." Meg smiled,
"It's quite alright, I should like a moment to collect myself at any rate… I've had a great deal of excitement."
"Charmed Mademoiselle!" Erik laughed just before he disappeared into his (and Christine's) bed room. Christine shortly followed him with an apologetic smile.
What seemed to Meg an eternity later she grew restless and wandered toward the semi-closed door, opening her mouth to speak and rapidly shutting it again when she caught sight of them in the midst of an embrace.
Christine and Erik were kissing frantically with a ravenous hunger and deeply passionate need, it was beautiful thing to behold (especially if you knew either of them at all): they complimenting each other in an ineffably elegant dance. In a time when it was considered vulgar and scandalous for a married man to kiss his wife when outside of closed doors even in the briefest brushing of lips to cheek, Meg had never seen a couple hug, much less devour each other's mouths and bodies with lips and hands.
It seemed to her that they looked different in each other's arms; Erik looked younger and innocent, strangely unsure while Christine appeared more greatly mature and more beautiful. It were as though in this one instance she was the teacher and he was the pupil, Meg couldn't help but notice (if that were so) he certainly excelled and soared under her guidance.
It was very like a dance, Meg thought absently, watching Christine's hand splay over her husband's shoulder blades caressingly. Ending it with a few more quick little kisses Erik smiled at her.
"We forget ourselves, my love."
"It's just so easy to do!" she protested playfully, "I must get you some dark glasses."
"Whatever for!" he exclaimed with a laugh,
"To keep me from getting lost in your eyes when we have guests. Oh stop laughing!" he tried, but failed most abysmally.
"Sorry." I myself can most definitely see her point. His eyes were like nothing else. One was a pretty, genuinely innocent and caring blue; the colour itself as the morning sky on Midsummer's day, extremely pale but clear. The other was silver, silver not gray; and this eye was everything that he was (or appeared to be) to strangers: mysterious, piercing, unusual, sensual, astoundingly intelligent and aware and oh so very sexy.
"You're so beautiful." Christine murmured wistfully after a moment of silence, resting her head in the hollow of his chest.
"Christine…"
"It doesn't matter though, don't think that it matters because it is here," she put her hand in the crook of his arm, squeezing the thick muscle, "that you protect me." Her hand moved to rest lightly on his throat, "And it is here that you entrance me," she held his head in her hands lovingly, "here that you astound and baffle me." Finally, she lay her hand flat against his chest where she could feel his heart beat through the clean shirt and vest he now wore. "But it will always be here that I love you." having watched her through this he bent and kissed her again wordlessly, though this time managing to maintain control.
"I think you will do me in one day with loving you too much." He said, kissing her again on the forehead once before gesturing for her to precede him out of the room. Meg scurried over to the sofa and tried to appear busy at twiddling her thumbs.
"We apologize again Mademoiselle."
"Not at all." Erik escorted Christine over to the couch and left with the excuse that he would prepare some tea, completely ignoring Christine's protests that he ought to rest.
"Well?" Christine asked excitedly, taking Meg's hand on the sofa,
"Well what?"
"What do you think of him?" Meg hesitated to answer,
"How does my humble opinion matter at all, I rather missed the courting stage."
"Not really, you were there the whole time, and I did sort of tell you about him…" she caught up to herself and shook her head to clear it of speculation about the painful past, "Meg." She said levelly with slight irritation, "You're my friend and I'd like to know how you get on with my husband." The little dancer sighed, looking around helplessly for an escape route and, not seeing one, decided to face the music and be blatantly honest,
"He's wonderful Christine, absolutely extraordinary, more so then you said. I felt like I was dying when he spoke to me, that voice! And so blessed good looking, oh yes I know about the mask but…" Christine laughed delightedly at Meg's sudden outpouring of reaction, wishing she'd been able to express her feelings when she met her 'Angel'.
"Lord Christine, I don't know what I was expecting but it doesn't compare to reality."
"That isn't even the half of it, you must hear him sing and play." She got a look in her eyes that were perfectly malevolent, "You must hear one of his songs, you'll never hear anything the same way again, everything will be music! Oh Meg, he can make you feel anything."
"I await the moment with anticipation, dear ladies." Erik interjected from the doorway, bearing a tray of tea things. Both women giggled inanely for a moment as he set the tray down and took up a seat in the large chair opposite the sofa.
"Tell us a story darling." Christine said, coming over to kneel at his feet.
"I thought I was to sing." He countered jovially, tweaking her chin in a foolish manner to make her laugh,
"Not just yet." She lay down her trump card with the expected giggle and batted her eyelashes at him, making a gesture with her hand that told him something Meg did not understand. He complied just as Christine wanted and Meg found that when she listened to him telling it, it was like the story came alive in that very room.
She saw in the tongues of fire licking at a cedar log the figure of the ancient king of which he spoke, the flames forming his proud and rigid face with its sharply angular nose and hawkish eyes while the others crackled enviously at having no such purpose.
"Here sits the king eternal, watchful always.
Forever: unseeing eyes look upon their kingdom,
See not the people changing.
But living beyond his life,
For all time eternal, here sits the great king."
And so the tale ended, Erik supplying that the verse was really about a king of ancient Egypt's enormous statue hewn from stone. While he was speaking, the room had seemed empty, vast and cold, full of the conniving whispers of rulers and peoples long dead. Meg could have sworn to you that for a brief, fleeting fragment of time she and the chanted words, even as they fell from Erik's lips were transported to the stone temples, sands and solitude of Egypt.
Now it was a comfortable and welcoming sitting room once again with a great menacing pipe organ on one wall and a merry fire in the hearth. The spell of the story left them in silence for a moment,
"My dear, Mademoiselle, you are both required upstairs for rehearsal in a quarter hour." Meg jumped,
"I completely forgot! My thanks again Monsieur, come on Christine!" she rushed toward the door then, turning to see Christine just sitting and looking up at her husband with a look of amusement rushed back and pulled vehemently on her friend's hand, "Come along!" Christine sighed, but finally stood.
She bent over her husband, still seated in his chair, and kissed him on the forehead at his hairline where the mask ended. This being done in an acute display of her thoughts on society's view of public affection.
"Goodbye my love, be at home tonight." She whispered, he stood and saw them to the door, opening it saying,
"Fare well Mademoiselle Giry, until tonight darling." The moment the door clicked shut, (Or rather slammed with a vastly echoing thud, being made of an enormous slab of stone.) Meg hurried Christine into the boat and wouldn't allow her any peace until she had been thoroughly convinced that no amount of nagging would make the boat go any faster.
At which time she decided instead to attack the poor phantomess with a array of questions that had been on her mind now that she had a minute to collect her thoughts. When most of the trivial tedious ones were appeased, she grew quiet and thoughtful; they were already across the lake at this point and making their careful way through the labyrinthine passages beyond.
"Christine, what is it like to kiss a man?"
"As opposed to kissing a woman?" Meg would have elbowed her if she didn't fear knocking the candle out of her hand,
"Grr." Christine laughed,
"Simply wonderful, it's like… I can't really begin to fathom something that even compares… I suppose it's a lot like flying and being under water at the same time. You understand?"
No… Christine?" the singer rubbed her temple and let out a heavy sigh, Meg could be very childish when she wanted to ask an embarrassing question,
"Yes Meg?"
"Isn't it usual for men to have hair upon their breast?" Christine giggled and cast a surveying glance at her friend over her shoulder in an attitude of slyness,
"I suppose, why?"
"Well…you see…that is what I had always heard, the ballet girls you see and well…Erik didn't." Christine giggled again, lifting her candle to better light the way as she turned another corner,
"No, he hasn't any," she shrugged, "I haven't the faintest idea why, but I am glad he hasn't."
"Oh…I was confused you see, I've never seen one before…"
"I know Meg, and you may ask anything you like, I'm only silly." The sole response to this was a grunt and she couldn't help laughing all over again.
"I never did get to hear him sing." Meg added some time later,
"Next time."
"Next time?" Christine nodded, brandishing an enormous grin,
"I will make quite certain of a next time."
A/N: Yay! The long awaited chapter ten is finally complete! It was in production a long time and then with the technical difficulties during filming, not to mention keeping Erik and Christine off each other between takes… There was a hefty bit of symbolism concerning Erik's physical person, a free bucket of cyber-cookies to anyone who knows what it is and what it means. Oh yeah, for much better poems by moi, particularly better then the song in chapter nine, go read "The Notes". (No one's reading it! *Cries* It's CATS fiction though…I thought it was purtty nifty!) And, am I losing readers? Or are they just not reviewing? Please let me know what you think of the new chapters! Glomps to those who have reviewed, are reviewing and ever will review!!!!