It would soon be time, everything had been set in motion and the touchpaper would be set aflame, burning Erik and Christine's live to ashes. A statisfied smile worked its way slowly across Raoul's face, quickly turning into a smirk as realisation dawned through his drunken haze.
The night was beautiful, the moonlight casting its rays delicatly over anything and everything, turning the world around him milky white. There was a slight chill in the air, keeping him fairly clear headed but still the alcohol had worked its charms on his thoughts and his body. Somewhere an owl hooted, breaking the calmness of the night but inside the De Chagny house there was bustle. Around the table in the room behind Raoul sat four gentlemen, each deathly silent, waiting for command.
As if he had had suddenly remembered he had more important things to do, Raoul turned around and stumbled slightly through the bay windows into the room. The four men watched Raoul as he made his way slowly and slightly unsteadily towards the table, pulling back the only spare chair and sitting down. He plonked the bottle down noisely and banged his fist on the table as if making an attempt to silence the gentlemen around him.
"Right gentlemen" he said gruffly, his words slightly slurred "Let's get down to business"
Erik's eyes drooped, his head too but he caught himself before he fell asleep. He had spent hours watching his beloved, his arms cradling her, resting protectively on her stomach in which grew their baby... his baby. The prickle of his skin at the news had given way to all consuming love.
He silently cursed his reaction to her news. When she had told him, he hadn't been able to breathe, it was if his throat was closing, the whole room seemed to close in around him. He had forced himself against all his better judgement to walk out the room, startling himself in the process. He cursed himself for even doubting her love for even one second, Old habits die hard... Her confession of pure love had touched him more than she'll ever know, more than he'll ever be able to tell her in this lifetime or any other.
Quickly he sent a prayer of thanks up to the Gods, for this blessing, finally they seemed to be looking favourably on him. He smiled to himself and a small tear made its way down his cheek as he contined to gaze lovingly down at his wife, his hands carrassing her stomach possessively, lovingly.
Even though the candles had long since burnt out, still he kept watch, his night vision allowing him to watch with almost perfect clarity each curve and swell of her body, each expression on her face, every silent sigh which made his heart skip a beat.
So he finally had a reason, he had two reasons to be - his wife and his child. He also had another reason to defend them with his very life against those that would destroy all that they had together.
A growl came to his throat but Christine moved slightly under his touch and his mind quickly went back to her. The bandage around her head stook stark in the dark, not as pure white as it had been. 'She will be able to take it off tomorrow' he thought to himself. He had thanked the Gods that she had not been harmed seriously, the wound having been gained from fainting after a bout of morning sickness.
There was still something he couldn't quite shake off, the sense of foreboding that he, even now, could feel in the air, something was going to happen, and soon. He took a deep breath and willed himself to forget, but the niggling in his head kept him on guard, kept him focused, he would make plans to move in the morning.
This eased his thoughts slightly. He kissed her softly on her head and closed his eyes and in her sleep Christine sighed to his touch.
The meeting had been a great success, everyone had made their way back to their own establishments and again the De Chagny residence was calm. Raoul sat at his desk, his quill in his hand, writing words onto several bits of paper. A candle burned slowly beside him and he hummed a little happy tune. Signing it, he placed it carefully into an envelope and reaching over to where his wax stood, he lifted it up and placing a small amount onto the envelope he pressed it down with his seal and placed it to the side, on this one he wrote, in his copperplate writing - "Erik" - and placed it to the side. The other, he signed and repeated the process, only this time he wrote "Christine" - and placed it on top.
Another grin made its way across his face - it was time...
