The Usual stuff: Yeah, I don't own these characters; credit there goes to M. Leroux and in this case Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber. At least I can manipulate them in my own little world. :)
Yet another chunk for those of you out there. This chapter is mostly some bonding time between Erik and Christine. I really hope I don't get too far from the character here; if I do, I'm going to claim that love changes everyone.So there. ;)
Again and again, thank you SO much to everyone who's put in a review. (not only do they make me smile but I'm more liable to update) I'd thank you all personally but I don't trust my computer to holdout that long... it's been kinda quirky lately. Special one for wendela though who keeps sending them. Thank you all.
And now without further adue...
Unaware of the plot forming about her, Christine slept peacefully, willing her body to heal and forget the dreadful potion she had taken. She vowed silently never to drink from that vial again; playing hooky wasn't worth the anguish… or maybe it was. Erik was safe and she was free to return to her old worries, a mixed blessing: what was she to do? One the handsome prince and the other the proclaimed monster, each professing to care for her above all else, but what is the real measure of man and monster? It's all a frightful mess, there's no way to win. Why do I have to choose? Must I be the inamorata of two such men? Christine pounded her pillow in frustration but did not force any other unnecessary efforts; Erik's medicines, for surely they had come from him, had helped but she still felt like a weak kitten that had just escaped drowning, though she was still drowning.
Sighing heavily, she threw her arm over her eyes as if to shield herself from the blinding urgency of her dilemma. She felt like screaming.
A gentle knock on the door disturbed her cogitation and she welcomed the interruption as well as whoever was on the other side with a brief, "Come in."
Raoul entered the dark room slowly and sat down heavily on the chair beside her bed. His discomfort was palpable but Christine did not ask, his ordeal would have been enough to disturb any man's stasis. He continued to shift in his seat before attempting to speak.
"Are you feeling better, Christine?" It seemed only proper to ask about his fiancée but Raoul fought biting jealousy down in order to form the words. His reason and emotions battled heatedly, one beseeching him not to jump to conclusions and the other proclaiming he ought to trust his instincts.
Christine's pale face was drawn but she replied with a weak smile, "Yes, I believe the worst is over. It's just a matter of time." She bit her tongue, fighting the question she wished to ask him but soon lost the struggle. "And have you recovered from the morning's excitement?"
Raoul looked at the floor, further enraged by the fresh memory. Excitement, that's putting it a bit lightly. "Still a little shaken." And terrified, and mortified, and fuming, and vehemently wishing to choke the life from 'Erik's throat, and... Raoul was surprised by his own thoughts; he was normally never so malicious. He blamed this new development on the Phantom; in Raoul's eyes, the Phantom was to blame for most everything.
Christine pulled her head away slightly, leaving Raoul to question if it had truly been a smile that graced her lips. Rising from his chair, he gently laid a kiss on her forehead. Before he shut the door, he whispered, "I love you."
His spirit continued to wage war on his conscience. Without a doubt he cared about Christine beyond understanding but his forced silence weighed heavily on his mind. She had no idea, she couldn't, on what plans he had nor what was tormenting him. Raoul resolved on his decision then, he was willing to walk through hell to save Christine.
The lady herself puzzled over Raoul's visit. Duplicity of some sort was involved, she could feel it. And she could feel something else…
"Erik, you can come in."
Erik gave a start, how had she known? Slowly he emerged from behind the mirror, erasing his shock and carefully settling into his normal air. He had debated for sometime on whether or not to return and risk another visit; the fearless Phantom of the Opera felt his courage wane on facing Christine. He was just about to enter when the Vicomte strode into the room. He observed the entire situation and gripped the tiny parcel in his hand to steady himself from murderous thoughts. Erik was relieved that Raoul had chosen a short visit and reorganized his thoughts and what he'd rehearsed in his head to say; he forgot all his carefully chosen phrases when he saw her silky brown locks splayed out on her pillow. Erik longed to run his hands through that hair but refocused on the small parcel in his hand.
"I thought this ought to be returned to you." He held the package out to her, refusing to watch her reaction.
"Raoul's ring." She said nothing more but held the chain up; the stones glimmered in the candle light.
"Yes," he stated simply. "I had no right to take it. Nor did I wish to continue looking at it." He chanced a glance at her, she did not place the ring on her finger but instead placed it on the bedside table where the rose he'd given her sat in a glass of water; Erik took all this in, feeling new courage and throwing off his encumbering caution. "And I wanted to speak with you."
Christine merely watched him and bade him to continue. "I had every intention of stealing you after the curtain call of Don Juan Triumphant, taking you away from the world—from the Vicomte—to live…to live with me." Christine was stunned, not merely on the revelation but rather that the Phantom of the Opera had confessed it. He'd never in her knowledge felt the need to explain himself and she thought quickly trying to absorb his frank truth. "I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, Christine. To lose the only light in my life of darkness would be truly devastating." She let out a small sound but Erik pressed on regardless. "I've regained some of my senses now, although nothing about this entire matter makes any real sense. Even had I succeeded in avoiding all the guards—yes, I knew the patron had them strategically placed—and brought you down to my home there would be two problems: first, if Raoul was true he would try to free you, as I would if the situation were reversed, and second that I could never force you to love me. I just prayed beyond reason that maybe you could care for me. Few have heart enough to love on their own. I adore you, Christine. I love you." He took her hand and kissed it gently. The next part would be more difficult and he could not deny that he prayed she would refute him: "If the Vicomte has been lucky enough to secure your affections, then I must step aside though it will take every shred of will and even then the gentlemanly thing to do will never be easy, to give up such an angel."
Erik turned away, burning tears threatening to escape.
Christine's voice was shaken by her own tears, "Oh, Erik. I don't know what to think anymore."
Momentarily relieved that she had not shunned him for his intent, Erik reached into his pocket and pulled out another precious parcel. "I request you will accept this gift Christine, with all my love."
She accepted it from him with shaking hands. She took the ring out and surveyed it carefully. No diamonds but a simple blue sapphire set in gold, lovely, simple, and unique. "Erik I—I…" Words failed Christine so she concluded with what was proper: "Thank you." She slipped the ring on her finger, handling it fondly.
"It suits you."
"Where did you get it?" she breathed.
Erik smiled, "it took some time to find the right one."
Christine looked back to the ring, its value increasing in her eyes. Erik had braved the Parisian streets and peering eyes to look for this. "Thank you," she breathed again.
Erik smiled once more and kissed her hand delicately.
Christine grinned weakly, "I suppose I should make a confession of my own, it seems only fair." For the briefest of moments, Erik froze but allowed her to continue unhindered. "I'm not really sick."
"But then—"
"Oh no, I don't mean to say I intended to stay bed-ridden just for fun. That was an unfortunate result. I took something from my medicine cabinet to make myself sick."
Erik was perplexed, "Why?" Anger rose in his chest, "Could you not bear to perform my opera?"
Christine bit her tongue, cursing her impulsiveness, "No, nothing like that. I was afraid." Erik, calmed, coaxed her gently and she continued, "First off, I was certain that if the opera ended as planned you would indeed take me to your lair and I didn't want my freedom stolen away." He scowled slightly and turned away, though he'd already admitted as much earlier. Christine plowed on, "If I was not down in your world, Raoul would not allow me to sing." Erik blanched at the thought of Christine's voice caged by a title. "By the end of the opera, I would be restricted one way or another. But more importantly, I did it because I wanted to protect you."
Erik dared a look into her eyes again and they sparkled with unshed tears. "Protect me?"
"Erik, if they'd caught you, I don't know what they'd do. I don't know what I'd do. Some would give their right hand to capture you and I can't begin to imagine what sorts of torture they'd have in mind. It just wasn't safe."
"Then again, performing on stage with a murderer is far from advisable," he grinned ruefully. "I never would have let you set foot from your dressing room, Christine. I'd never do anything to hurt you."
Pulling herself to a more elevated position, Christine boldly ran her fingers through Erik's raven hair. "I know," she said in a calm voice. He closed his eyes under her touch, savoring the sensation. He opened his eyes involuntarily as he felt a slight pressure on his mask. In response to the question in her eyes, he gave a small nod. With a gentle tug, Christine removed Erik's mask and placed her hand on the angry and twisted skin. She continued to caress his face gently and he stifled a sob as he placed his own hand over hers; he'd always dreamt of a moment like this, Christine looked at him without fear but instead an entirely different emotion. His hopes had entered the realm of reality.
Her eyes still sparkled in the dim light, but a few errant tears glimmered on her cheeks. Erik's vision clouded and he realized tears of his own were brimming in his eyes. Forcefully pulling his mind away, he knew that Mme Giry would be checking on her charge soon but he never wished to leave Christine's presence again. It could not be helped. With all the will he could muster, he decided that he had to leave.
He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "You should rest. I'll come back later. I promise." She nodded lightly as didn't trust her voice to answer. Erik tilted his head to kiss her cheek. But Christine surprised him once again: she turned her head and met his lips. Erik was shocked at first but only at first; he felt the warmth of a strange peace in his chest. It was perfect.
With increasing chagrin, Erik pulled away and wistfully glanced back one more time before exiting behind the mirror.
A/N: Awww...
Well, I hope this came out well; it was one of two really difficult parts to write and even still I'm not entirely certain it didn't come out awkward (I guess I'll find out when some of those biting complaints come :)ah well...).
What's to come: I have Spring Break next week here (Woo Hoo!) so the gameplan is to have the next chunk for this one relatively soon (we'll get to Raoul's plot) and, if I can get myself editing again amidst hanging out with buddies, I'll put up the first part to the other one I've been working on.
Take care everyone
