So many reviews! Oh wow! Thanks you guys! It made my day! No comments on this chapter. I'm pretty sure that there will be two more chapters after this, plus maybe an epilogue. Sorry...but this chapter ends with another... cliffie. I have left hints throughout the chapter, though, so it will not be a complete mystery.
Three weeks earlier, when Christine had first set her big brown eyes upon the house, she had immediately let out a gasp of delight. Truthfully the stone home was nothing extremely out of the ordinary, especially when compared with the enormous manors she had encountered. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why she liked it, though...that and the fact she was sharing it with someone she passionately loved. Nevertheless, she did not desire extravagance.
As Erik quietly led her through the little home with a rare look of contentment upon his features, she happily babbled about what each room could be used for and where they could put their belongings. The house contained three bedrooms, all partially furnished with featherbeds and wardrobes. The sitting room had several midnight blue sofas and a pine green divan, giving the room a darker but cozy atmosphere. Several mahogany tables and desks were scattered about as well. It was obvious that a lot needed to be added...possibly even another room, but those things would come with precious time.
At the end of the tour, she had turned and kissed him affectionately on the cheek, tears of joy brimming in her eyes. "Thank you," was all she could manage to murmur. He had embraced her, for the first time not loathing himself for causing her to cry.
The next weeks had been spent readying the home with their own belongings, figuring out how they would acquire basic needs. Christine quickly talked of planting a flower garden to which Erik chuckled slightly and asked her if she thought a vegetable garden may be of more use to them. Indeed, their isolation would pose some difficulties, and both knew that at least one of them would have to make occasional trips to the city for necessities. Though money was not a problem at the moment, the suspicion and curiosity of others could continue to be bothersome.
Each night they continued to sleep in each other's chaste embrace. Erik relished the divine fact that she was securely within his arms after years of complete solitude and absence of human touch. Christine, unused to isolation, took immense comfort in their physical contact. Perhaps someday she would pay visit to Madame Giry and her old friends. But for now, Erik was her sole companion.
Slowly Erik began to reveal small parts of his life to her, bridging the large gap between them. On one occasion, she had picked up a small ornate vase from a box, marveling at the intricate designs on it. "Where did you get this?" she had asked curiously. "It is beautiful."
He was quiet for a long moment. "In Persia," he replied softly.
"Persia! What did you do there?"
"I...designed buildings and was...involved in some...governmental affairs." She knew there was much more but did not venture deeper. Christine had laid a hand upon his unmasked cheek, and he had leaned into her touch rather than pull away from it.
Finally Erik announced to her that he had made plans for them to become married. She had run into his arms from her place on the settee, joy within her face. Never had he thought he would receive such a look from her. Only months earlier, she had gazed at him with nothing but fear and contempt.
It was a very simple wedding. Christine had considered inviting Madame Giry and Meg, but venturing into the city this soon could have proven to be dangerous. They were wed with two elderly nuns as witnesses. Both had poor eyesight, a nice convenience for a couple who did not wish to have their presence known. The priest himself was an older man who kept his attention on his work and away from the odd masked man and his very young bride.
Christine had gripped Erik's hand as the vows were read. A strange, distant look had been in his eyes all day, and she decided he was simply as nervous as she was. He had stared at her in awe when he first saw her in the elaborate bridal gown, her curls flowing in cascades down her soft features. She had blushed under his intense gaze, admiring his tall, formally suited frame. When they kissed at the end of the ceremony, she had felt a combination of intense passion and comfort come through his touch.
As they departed from the chapel, he had stopped outside of the carriage for a moment and leaned against the side. "What is wrong, Erik?" she asked, slightly disturbed by the grimace on his mouth.
"Nothing," he replied after a moment. He felt her squeeze his hand lovingly, and he softly kissed her cheek. In the late afternoon, they had returned to their home as man and wife. Christine smiled nervously to herself as she thought of their approaching wedding night, when the embrace would cease to be so chaste.
As she clasped Erik's hand tightly within her own, heading into their home for the first time as his bride, the last thing that Christine had expected was to hear someone's footsteps softly approaching from behind the house. She had frozen in place, and Erik had stepped protectively in front of her, quickly reaching for the Punjab lasso.
It was at that moment that the Vicomte emerged from around the corner, looking up with complete surprised as he encountered the couple. Christine had immediately stepped out from behind Erik in shock, not believing she was staring into the eyes of her former fiancée. As she quickly composed herself and looked back and forth between the two men, she slowly took in the seriousness of the situation. Their hate for one another burned within both of their eyes.
For a moment, she debated whom to address first. Raoul had taken a step backward, one arm in a sling, realizing that he was not in the best of situations. She was very relieved to see that Erik was no longer readying his lasso, but his arms were stiffly crossed and his face held a vague malice. Cautiously she reached for Erik's hand and entwined her fingers within his, both as a form of comfort and as a restraint. Keeping her voice steady, she spoke to her childhood friend.
"Raoul," she began cautiously. "What on earth are you doing here? How did you find us?"
"I...well..." he stuttered, not taking his eyes off Erik. "I was quite concerned for your safety and came to see how you were doing. A friend told me where you were."
Christine looked confused. "Meg," she murmured after a second. She sighed and shook her veiled head. "I am doing fine, Raoul," she said sternly. "I told you that I had met someone else."
"Well," he said, mustering some courage. "I am not sure you were completely honest about whom you were with. You did run off rather quickly."
Raoul nearly jumped as the Phantom spoke for the first time, the soft yet menacing voice giving him chills. "What Christine does is her own affair, Monsieur. Do you think it wise to be trespassing on my property by yourself? I daresay I am not too comfortable with you knowing my location. "
The Vicomte's eyes widened. "I shall get off your property after you release her. I do not know what you have done to force her to be with you, but I will not stand by and watch as you take advantage of her, you vile monster."
Erik stood tall, his mouth forming into a sneer of fury. "Quite daring words to say, boy. You never know what a monster such as myself might be capable of." He took a dangerous step forward, closely eyeing the Vicomte to see if he had a weapon on him.
Christine tensed at the heated exchange. "Please," she pled to both of them anxiously. She knew she had to get Raoul out of there immediately, but she also was aware that he would not be convinced of her safety so easily. Christine needed to talk to the Vicomte alone, and she prayed that would be possible. "Raoul, it is a very inconvenient time for you to be here. Let me be in peace. I am fine."
Raoul knew that he would get nowhere in this situation. Christine certainly was not free to tell him the truth as to what was happening...not in the presence of this very dangerous man. He would wind up dead if he continued this confrontation. Raoul realized that he would have to return to the house with the police.
"Very well," replied the Vicomte quickly as he backed away. "I shall leave you both. Have a good night." At a fast pace, he whirled around and began to find his way back to his carriage, digging for the pistol in his jacket should the Phantom attempt to follow him.
Christine could feel Erik's muscles tense in anger. "He is not done. He will bring the authorities here." A dangerous look came over his face, one she had seen before and never wished to see again. But she knew that Erik was likely right. Raoul was not consoled. The Vicomte believed her to be an unwilling prisoner. Closing her eyes, she began to quickly think before Erik took off after him in a mindless rage.
"Erik, let me talk to him. Alone," she said quietly. "It is the only way."
"What?" his eyes flared at her in fury. "He shall drag you off with him. Do you really think he will believe you could love a monster, Christine? Your friend shall never be convinced otherwise." His heart raced as he prepared for a different course of action, attempting to ignore the pleading fear in his new wife's eyes.
Slowly she drew him down to her, kissing him lightly against his lips. He wrapped her into his chest, fear and anger filling him at the thought of losing everything he had gained in the last month. "Erik," he heard her whisper. "Please. Do not settle this with another death. I beg you. Let me talk to him. He will listen to me if you are not there." He inhaled her lavender scent deeply, not wanting to let her go. What he would have done to strangle the damned boy without repercussions. It would be so easy...so reassuring to not have to worry about his interference anymore.
Christine drew back from him and stared into his golden eyes, silently begging him. She would not leave unless he allowed her to depart with his love. "Go, then," he said softly and without anger.
"Thank you." She smiled gratefully and kissed him deeply. "I shall be back within a moment, my love." He watched her take off into trees, a faint breeze ruffling her white dress and her veil flying out in a stream of lace behind her. His heart beat quickly, and he felt an emptiness eat at him as he wondered if she would have been better off marrying the Vicomte. Away from this isolation...Living a normal life...Strange how dark it was already growing this evening...
Christine took off through the dimly lit bramble, hoping her former fiancé had not already gotten too far. "Raoul!" she called. "Raoul! Come back!" The Vicomte whipped around in surprise at her voice, not knowing what to expect. With shocked relief, he saw that it was Christine alone who came running up to him.
"Christine!" he exclaimed quietly, turning to face her. "I did not think he would let you away from him! My God! It is him. You are married to the Phantom!" She sighed as he grasped her arms and looked into her eyes. It was very similar to when she had confronted him atop the roof. He half-expected her to fall to her knees, weeping in horror. She remained composed, though.
"Raoul, his name is Erik," she began slightly out of breath. "And yes, we are married. And I promise you that I am happy. Please believe me. Please do not destroy everything we have."
"Christine!" he exclaimed again, tightening his grip on her arms. "Have you gone mad? Has he brainwashed you...threatened you? He did nothing but terrorize us for months, lying to you and trying to kill me. And Ames? Christine...did he...?" Raoul shook his head and looked intently into her eyes, trying to find some hidden misery that she was not revealing to him.
"I cannot explain every detail of the past few months. But I am deeply in love with him. I always was...though perhaps was too young to understand it for a while. I shall not deny that there are difficulties, but he loves me. He shall never harm me." She paused before she said the next part. "And Laurent was not a good man, Raoul."
Her eyes confirmed that Ames was indeed dead, and he shuddered. "You expect me to walk out of here, knowing you are married to a murderer...knowing he has killed my friend? I cannot do that. If something happened to you, it would be my fault."
"Raoul," she said, holding back tears of panic. "If you care a thing about my happiness. If you truly care about me, let me live in peace. Laurent's death was done in self-defense. He could have killed both of us that night."
The Vicomte wiped a hand over his face in exasperation as her eyes pled desperately with him. If she were truly miserable, would she have told him by now? He sighed and thought deeply for a moment. Grabbing her shoulders firmly, he looked her directly into the eye. "You are truly here of your own will? You are truly happy? Do not be afraid, Christine. Look me in the eye and tell me the truth."
"I am truly happy. I am in love with Erik." She spoke with a resolve he had not ever heard in her voice before, and he released her shoulders, letting his hands drop limply to his sides. A strange expression, almost one of defeat, crossed his face.
"Very well, then," he said with a sigh. "I shall not ruin your happiness. I will leave you in peace. But you know where to find me if you ever need me. If he ever lays a hand upon you...threatens you..." His voice tapered off.
She softly embraced him in the dim light. "I promise that he never will, Raoul. But thank you." She paused. "You have been a good friend throughout everything, and I do appreciate your concern. Take great care of yourself and find happiness with someone else, my friend." He held onto her momentarily, memories of the past flashing through his mind. Then he let her go.
"Goodbye, Christine," he said softly. "Take care of yourself as well." She nodded kindly at him, her face aglow with a peace he had not seen her possess since her father was alive. She was truly happy.
Slowly he turned and walked away, down the dirt path and into the remaining sunlight. His footsteps crunched lightly against the dried leaves upon the ground, and a cool breeze continued to blow softly. The Vicomte felt a vague, empty feeling consume him as he came closer to the carriage. It was the first time he had accepted her as gone-as no longer needing him after all those months. He still didn't understand it completely, and he did not like this Erik...did not trust him. But Christine truly loved him. She must have seen some good in him.
Waving to his driver, Raoul had begun to enter the carriage when he suddenly stopped and turned around. Had he imagined it? Christine screaming-calling his name? Perhaps it was wishful thinking. He shook his head and began to climb in again with a sigh.
"Raoul! Oh God! Help me! Come back! Please help me! Raoul!"
No. It was real. Her normally soft voice echoed throughout the depths of the woods, filled with pure fear and panic.
Grabbing his pistol with his uninjured arm, Raoul jumped from the carriage and raced back to the house-various horrific scenarios flashing rapidly through his mind.
