Chapter Nine
The Truth Revealed
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera...still.
Erik drank a hot cup of black coffee the next morning, still with a lingering headache from the Vodka the night before. He was sitting at his piano reviewing the music he had written when Christine walked in for her lesson. He stood at the sound of her approach, taken aback by what he saw. Christine's eyes were red and swollen, with dark circles beneath them from weeping and a lack of sleep. The color had disappeared from her cheeks, leaving the rouge she had put on to make up for it. Her appearance was otherwise neat and tidy, as usual.
"Christine..." Erik's brow creased with concern as he walked towards her. "Christine, my angel, what is wrong?"
Christine fought back her tears and attempted to smile, "I've just been...thinking...about...everything." she finished lamely.
Erik raised an eyebrow. "And...is all resolved?"
"Almost."
Erik stepped closer to her and took her by the arms gently, looking into her eyes. "Christine, why don't we cancel our lessons for today...and simply spend it together?"
Christine hesitated.
"It's quite alright." He assured her.
She smiled a little and nodded.
"Good." He smiled and rubbed her arms comfortingly. "Where would you like to go?"
Christine blinked. "You mean, within the Opera Populaire?"
"No, I mean anywhere. This day is yours, Christine; my apologies, this is long overdue."
Christine thought for a moment, "I know of a beautiful garden near the borders of Paris. Hardly anyone will be there, especially at this time of day, so you needn't worry about being...seen by anyone."
Erik looked at her, "Christine, you can go anywhere, even if it is densely populated, don't worry about me."
Christine nodded. "I'd like to go to the garden."
Erik nodded. "Very well." He hesitated, then kissed her lightly on the lips, pleased that she didn't pull away. "Get your cloak and I'll meet you at the carriage house in fifteen minutes."
"Alright." She smiled at him, then left.
Erik watched her go, then groaned as soon as she was out of earshot, putting a hand to his forehead. Anywhere? Erik, you fool! There are reasons why you stay out of public areas as much as possible...you rememberHe quickly blocked out the memories of his tormented past. Why did you do this? But he already knew the answer to that question. Because I love her.
Fifteen minutes later, Erik met Christine in the carriage house. To spare onlookers the horror of the Opera Ghost, he had Madame Giry find a driver for the carriage and tell him of their destination beforehand. Erik covered his face with his cloak and turned his back to the driver as he helped Christine into the carriage. He climbed in quickly after her and shut the door, making sure the blinds were closed on the right side of the carriage to spare Christine any humiliation.
Christine frowned. "Erik," she laid a hand on his, "Are you sure this is alright?"
"Of course." He forced a smile and patted her hand.
Christine looked at him, then closed the blinds on her side of the carriage and smiled at him.
"Christine"
"No," she placed her fingers gently on his lips, "This is your day too, Erik. If the blinds will make you feel more comfortable then it will make me feel more comfortable."
He looked into her eyes, unable to speak, then turned away to hide the tears in his eyes. "Thank you." he whispered. He couldn't remember anyone ever saying that to him, anyone ever wanting to be sure that he was happy, to go out of their way to do so.
Christine merely smiled in response and faced forward, still holding his hand.
They reached the garden in thirty minutes time. Erik climbed out of the carriage, hiding his face, and blinked against the bright sunlight. His headache had significantly improved since the beginning of his morning, luckily, so adjusting to the sunlight wasn't too painful. He helped Christine out of the carriage and began to walk with her down one of the garden's many paths. They walked together in silence for a few minutes, gazing at the flowers, happy just to be in one another's company.
"They're so beautiful." Christine whispered.
"Like you." Erik said sincerely.
Christine smiled, "Sometimes I come here just to be alone, to think. It's one of my favorite places."
"Then we must visit it often."
"I'd like that." Oh how I would love it!
Erik plucked a red rose and handed it to her with a smile.
Christine took it and closed her eyes, savoring it's pleasant, unique aroma.
They laughed and launched into conversation, roaming all the paths and talking about almost everything, returning to the carriage only once to retrieve a picnic basket and eat it's contents in the warm sunlight of a field. Then they returned to their roaming, heedless of the passing hours until the sun began to set.
"Oh," Christine's voice was sad, "I have to get back to the Opera, Erik; I have a performance tonight."
"Of course." If only this day wouldn't end... "Christine," He took both her hands in his and looked at them, gathering his thoughts, "You said that you had almost resolved 'everything', which I can only assume concerns your affection for me and Raoul. Please, Christine, will you tell me where your heart truly lies?"
Christine looked into his eyes, his pleading, desperate eyes, only one of which was not framed by the mask. So much pain was there, and she couldn't put away the thought that she was the cause of it. She looked away, "Erik, I...I can't,"
"Please be honest with me, Christine." His voice pleaded with her, she dared not look into his eyes.
"I will be," she took a deep breath and looked into his eyes, attempting to prove to him her honesty, "I am...and I'm so sorry that I wasn't before. Please believe me, Erik, if I could go back and undo all the pain I've caused you, I would." She fought back her tears...she would explain everything. No more lies or deception. "I pretended to be in love with you so that you would teach me your music and I would become a famous singer, not just a chorus girl."
Erik swallowed hard. Deep down...he had always known his was true.
"I pretended to be in love with Raoul," she continued, "because he was rich and had a station, I could take my career anywhere. So I used the two of you to further my career, and I regret it. I realized that I had to choose between the two of you, if I was in love with one, or just break off the whole thing. I thought about it long and hard, and I found what I had known, but somehow forgotten about until it was too late. It's not Raoul that I love, Erik, it's you."
Erik's grip tightened on her hands. Is she really saying it? Can it be true? No, I must be dreaming!
"But I can never marry you, I know that also. Because you deserve better. I've been so horrible; I don't expect you to forgive me, I just wanted to tell you the truth...for once."
Erik shook his head, "No, no Christine, you're wrong. I do love you. I always have." He placed his hand on her cheek, "Do you really think that I would nullify all my feelings for you now? After I have repeated my feelings for you time and time again and told you that I've forgiven you?"
"Yes! Because you deserve better, and I've wronged you so, past forgiveness. I considered Raoul briefly because of that, but I can't marry him, not after what you told me. I can't let him win."
"Then marry me!" Erik knelt, "Christine, please believe me once and for all that all is forgiven and my love still stands, as true and as deep as it ever was."
Christine was speechless.
"Too long you've wandered in winter...far from my far-reaching gaze." Erik sang softly.
Christine smiled through her tears and continued, "Angel of Music, I've denied you, turning from true beauty! Angel of Music, my protector...come to me, strange Angel!"
Erik smiled and stood, holding her hand close to him and reaching for the other, "I am your Angel of Music...come to me: Angel of Music!"
He kissed her, unable to believe her love for him and overcome by his for her. She was kissing him back, with as much love and more than she had professed. His love was shared now, his joy was complete–
"Angel of Darkness, cease this torment!"
Almost.
The two betrothed broke apart and stared in surprise at their intruder.
Raoul stood, with his arm outstretched towards them, eyes opened wide in surprise and fear that his plan would never succeed.
"Christine," Erik whispered, "I'd hate to have to dispose of this boy in front of you, so perhaps you should speak with him."
"Me? Whatever would I say to him? You know how stubborn he is."
Erik stared at her calmly, "Simply tell him that you don't love him."
"Ha! Surely you jest! He won't listen!"
"My dear Christine, think of whom we speak." They turned to look at him momentarily, then looked back at each other. "How difficult can he be to confuse?"
Christine nodded. "True, but what if it doesn't work?"
"Broaden your vocabulary." He paused, "Any word exceeding three syllables ought to sufficiently addle his preposterously inbred mind."
Christine sighed. "Alright."
She walked over to him, "Raoul, there's something you should know."
He grabbed her hand and began to walk towards his carriage, "Tell me on the way home."
"No, Raoul!" She jerked him to a halt. "I don't love you. I love Erik...we're engaged."
Raoul looked at her, "I don't understand..."
Erik choked and turned around.
"Christine, look at me." Raoul continued, "I know my hair's probably mussed by now, but I can fix that. I have a pimple, but that will go away and I'll make sure it doesn't leave a mark. I'm rich, Christine, think of all the new clothes I could buy for you, and a mansion, jewels–"
"Erik is also quite wealthy, " Christine responded cooly, remembering the vast sum he had received for quite a long time from the managers, present and past, of the Opera Populaire. "In fact, now that I consider it...I have reason to believe that his wealth might even exceed yours, if not entirely dwarf it. But that doesn't matter anymore. I'm sorry it ever did. I love my career, but I love Erik more."
"Christine have you been drinking?"
"No! But from what I have been toldyou have, cheri," she added sarcastically, "I have heard all about your devious little scheme! For shame, Vicomtechasing after innocent little ballerinas! Your family would be appalled."
Raoul laughed nervously. "Christine, my love, I was drunk. People say things they don't mean when they're drunk."
Christine tossed her hair nonchalantly, "Wellfrankly, I do believe that Meg deserves much better than you, Monsieur le Vicomte. However, she is not in love with younor will she be, I think, once she discovers the truth about all of us..."
"Forget Meg," Raoul changed the subject hastily, "Do you really want to live the rest of your life with this, this–"
"Alright, monsieur," Erik drew his sword, "That's quite enough of that and Christine has a performance to prepare for. So, either you leave this moment, or I shall be coerced into ending your pathetic life."
"Coerced..."Raoul frowned, pondering the meaning of the word.
"See?" Erik looked at Christine. "You should have used bigger words. 'Coerced' is hardly the limit on what I could have chosen, but we are in a hurry and I was rather tired of hearing his degrading remarks upon my person."
"Degrading?" Raoul frowned again, giving up on 'coerced' and attempting to ascertain the meaning of this new word.
Erik rolled his eyes, "Why don't just go and marry your sister?"
Raoul looked confused, "I don't...have a sister..."
Erik grinned, "Then I'm afraid your family line will die off rather quickly."
Raoul blinked, "I–"
"You try my patience, Vicomte; either you elect to leave this moment, or I really will end your little inbred life without a moment's hesitation."
"Christine–"
Erik lunged at him, giving his adversary barely enough time to parry the blow.
"Villain!" spouted Raoul, "I'm unprepared!"
"Needless to say, you always are, Monsieur Vicomte. If you choose to put such a low value upon your life, then perhaps you ought to allow me to end it for you, and therefore spare the world the space, and the air that you are currently wasting on your person. However, I am not so dishonourable that I would have struck at you had I known that you were entirely unprepared for a duel! Is your faithful comb not about to act in your defense?"
Raoul parried another blow.
"Please! Perhaps we might reach an agreement with a little less...violence! EEP!" He ducked as the Phantom's blade sliced through the air where his head had been.
"What would you suggest?" Erik growled.
"Tea at the cafe?" He jumped back as Erik's sword came dangerously close to his chest.
"A facial?"
Erik growled, "Do not insult me, Monsieur. I know you are a gambling manbut that is verging on ridiculous."
"No, no, no! Pardon! I only wish to solve thingspeacefully!"
"Do you realize that I've been missing you on purpose? I could have killed you by now! Thrice over!"
"Christine, speak to him! Get him to see reason!" The Vicomte cried wildly.
"Leave her out of this, Vicomte, this is between you and me. She's already done her part, telling you that she doesn't love you. Now you must do yours. Leave!"
"Never!" Raoul barely missed the exposed portion of Erik's face.
"Fine! Then I you leave me no choice!"
"Wh-what are you going to do?" Raoul stepped back, eyes wide.
"Slice you into mince-meat, you asinine fop, what else?"
"Wait!"
"Ugh! I don't have time for this, Christine has a performance tonight and I must to return her to the opera house."
"I'll do it." Raoul offered meekly.
"Ha! I think not, monsieur."
"But–"
"Let's end this. What will it be, monsieur Vicomte? Leave Christine alone, or fight me to the death. It's your choice, but choose quickly."
A lightning bolt struck the Fop's brain just then; he suppressed a smile just before it could be detected by his adversary and the chorus girl. "Perhaps...perhaps we might...resolve this...tomorrow? After allwhy should we duel one another in front of Christine? It isn't dignified for gentlemen..."
Erik snorted. "And she has likely found your pathetic attempts at bravery to be quite boring as far as sport is concerned by NOW, Monsieur."
He thought for a moment, then glanced back at Christine, who raised an eyebrow. Well, she did need to return to the opera, and what did he have to lose? Christine would never be wooed by Raoul again, not successfully anyway, and if he chose to leave Paris instead of fighting him tomorrow, he'd still be gone.
"Then you would agree to meeting here, tomorrow, at the noon hour? And you shall have your duel, as you wish, Monsieur le Fantome."
"Very well." He said slowly. "Until tomorrow then, monsieur Vicomte." He sheathed his sword and gave the fop a quick nod farewell before turning and guiding his new fiancé by the small of her back to their carriage and helping her in, hiding his face, mask and all, as before. He turned to look one last time at his adversary, who had not moved from where he had stood a few moments before, then stepped into the carriage and rode away to the opera house.
