Chapter Seven
"This is madness."
Christine turned her eyes over to Erik who was shuffling a few belongings into a bag. "Erik, Raoul's just trying to help…"
He shoved the last piece of clothing into the bag and gave her a strained look. "Does it not bother you that he seemed to show no trouble with letting you go?"
The diva stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm. He flinched at first, but then relaxed, covering her hand with his own. "He is having trouble, Erik, he simply shows it… differently than you."
Erik's eyes flashed briefly. "Ah? He doesn't loose himself into temporary madness?" he demanded, harsher than he meant. She pulled away from him, eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry, Christine," he whispered. "I…"
"I know," she answered quietly. "Please, let's try to make it through this. All of us."
He nodded. "If it is what you wish."
"It is."
The trip to the de Chagny home was hell. Erik was paler than Christine had ever seen him by the time that they stopped. Half way through the overly bumpy trip he had curled himself up in the corner of the carriage, as far back in the shadows as he could get. Even Raoul, who had greeted him with a cool formality of one containing his secret loathing, looked slightly worried. Nadir had been shifting nervously until Madame Giry had reached over and placed an aging hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him.
"Christine?"
Christine turned to Raoul at the sound of her name in her ears. "Are we there?"
"Yes." He reached a hand for her and she gave him a slow smile.
"A moment, Raoul," she whispered and moved to the place where Erik sat, his eyes half closed, either not realizing in his haze that the carriage had stopped, or simply not caring. She reached a hand gently to him and brushed the left side of his face. "You're going to have to get out now, Erik," she said gently. "Please, love."
He stirred, his eyes coming to focus on her. They were bright with the fever that had set in and he reached his own gloved hand up to wrap it around her smaller one. "Just a moment, my dear," he said quietly. "I'll be along in just a moment."
Christine's eyebrows knitted in concern. "Erik, you said that your wound was alright."
The Phantom shifted and started for the door of the carriage, as if trying to prove her words correct. He hated lying to her. Hated it more than anything, but the façade must be kept if they were to have any chance of living through this. The dying sun reflected off the white porcelain that covered half of his face and he reached a hand out to help Christine.
She gave him a startled look. "About to fall over and you're offering me help?"
A small smile crossed his lips at the sound of her light voice, but he did help her from the carriage. She hopped out, letting their hands linger. "Please promise that you'll rest," she begged quietly.
"Isn't that what we're here for?"
She nodded. "But somehow I fear you won't."
The house was not small by any measure of the imagination, but it was not the grand home that the de Chagnys would have called their main house. No, this was a summer cottage, for lack of a better term, though "cottage" served it no justice. Even Erik was impressed at the beauty of it.
"People are always here," Raoul was saying as they entered. "So please excuse the other guests. I believe… Yes, two ladies that my aunt knows are here. A friend of hers' – dead for a good many years now – daughter and her friend are staying here as of now. They really make very little racket when here. I've seen them once before. The elder – the daughter's friend, I believe – is overly quiet. I'm not sure I've heard her say more than two words."
"Is there something wrong with her?" Meg asked.
Raoul shrugged. "Lost everything in the world, I'd say. Her husband died before their son was born and I believe that Marie has mentioned that her son has been dead a good many years, or at least they suspect him so."
"That's horrible," the dancer breathed. "Simply terrible."
"Ah, but she is a fan of the opera. Perhaps you might meet her, Christine?"
Christine looked up, startled. They had sat in the library some time ago, chatting about trivial things as servants brought tea in. Her eyes remained fixed on the door that led to the hallway which in turn led to the room Erik was lying down in. Nadir is with him, she continued to tell herself, with little to know good. "I'm sorry?"
"Madeleine is a fan of the opera."
"Oh," the singer answered carefully.
Raoul smiled a bit, noting her distant expression. "I said that perhaps you would like to meet her. Such a sad old lady."
"Of course," Christine answered, rising. "That'd be lovely, Raoul."
He stood as well and reached an arm out for her. "She spends most of her days here in the gardens," he explained as they started out.
Christine made a small sound of acknowledgement as she followed him to the gardens. There sat two women. One looked a bit younger, her greying red hair tied up and she motioned toward the opera singer with a smile on her face. The other woman, the one Raoul had called Madeleine, turned and Christine could not suppress her gasp. Her mind flashed back to the day she had seen the sketch in Erik's layer. The beautiful woman that had looked so much like her was the same as the one that sat there before her. She was aged, yes, and life had been hard on her, but certainly it was the same woman. Madeleine. Erik's mother.
A/N: Yes yes, anyone who has read Kay's novel is screaming at me "Saiko! You fool! Did you skip that whole chapter! Madeleine died!" To which I reply: "Yes, dears, I know, but I've completely erased the end of the book for this phic, and so why not erase that bit as well for my purposes?" In other words, Erik never went back to his home after leaving Persia. He never met with Marie, and Madeleine is, obviously, very much alive.
Lynx Ryder: Oh! The word "confounded" is my favorite word in the world! It's so much fun to use! I regret to say that I did not write the line of "None of us can choose where we will love." That is Kay's doing. I did add the last bit, if that counts for anything lol. And as to Raoul's letting the break go and to him being calm and all that… well as to the calm, he's not, but he's doing it for Christine, and as to them all being at his home, I wanted them there and it seemed like the easiest way to get them there. I had bits and pieces of this written up in my head and had to find a way to piece it all together. Getting them from the layer to Raoul's house had to be written in lol. And as to the rough ride, oh heck yeah! Remember what I put Jack through in all my stories? Hehe… Poor Erik. I might even be a bit harder on him b/c he's just a wonderful angst filled character. Hehe…
