Christine and the Phantom
Chapter Eight: Quintessence
Raoul's return to the village occurred a few days earlier than he had planned. However, he was not foolish enough to leave a beautiful girl like Christine alone for long.
At first sight of the village, Raoul was instantly comforted. Smoke curled lazily from the village chimneys and the villagers who recognized him waved enthusiastically at him. He relaxed in the carriage, closing his eyes and imagining the sweet scene waiting for him at Christine's cottage.
Doubtless Stephan would be playing his violin while his daughter prepared their luncheon in the kitchen. Thinking of Stephan caused Raoul to groan. He would have to part father and daughter. Although he hated to wrestle Christine away from the violinist, he knew she would adapt to the splendor of Paris.
The vehicle rolled to a stop and Raoul leaped from the carriage, telling the driver to unharness the horses and wait for him down the road. He made his way up the short path, fantasizing of Christine's sweet embrace. Unknowingly, he hummed a tune to the song in his heart.
A slight breeze rippled through the long grass, and nearby a bird called joyfully to its mate. The cottage's location was truly ideal; it stood just far away from town to retain dignity while avoiding complete isolation. Raoul had loved it as a child, and had fond memories of playing with Christine in these woods, alone and free from the world outside.
His long legs quickly carried him to the familiar entrance. Hoping to surprise Christine and her father, he opened the door without knocking. "Christine! I'm back!"
Chaos greeted his eyes. Broken furniture, scattered papers, rotting food – the cottage had been torn apart.
Placing the flowers down, he quickly searched the small building only to discover it was empty. Raoul sprinted back to his carriage, crying to the driver, "To the village!"
)–/–
Raoul burst through the doors of the bookshop, looking for its proprietor, a kindly man that knew Christine well. The shop was empty, save for two women, a blonde waiting patiently at the counter and a redhead rifling aimlessly through the shelves.
Grabbing the closer one, he interrogated the petite blonde, "Please, miss, do you know where Christine Daae or her father Stephan Daae is?"
"She cannot speak, Monsieur le Vicomte." Carlotta looked up from the shelves curiously.
Raoul turned to the woman, immediately unhanding the startled mute who rubbed her arms. "Then, do you know where Christine is?"
The woman shrugged. "Most believe she ran off with a lover. Her father was a normal show, though, until Monsieur D'Arque took him to the Maison des Lunes. They say he is on his deathbed now, sick with consumption or something like it." She waved her hand carelessly, but peered in interest at Raoul's concern.
"Why was he taken away to that madhouse?"
"He kept raving about a hideous monster that had captured Christine. Of course, that's ridiculous. Christine was such a strange girl, reading those fairy tales. She probably just ran off with some passing stranger while her father was playing for that manor lord." Her lips twitched with amusement.
Raoul clenched his fists and spoke in a dangerously low tone. "Christine would never leave me – not for anyone!" His voice cracked on the last note. Christine, love another? She didn't even know any other men as far as he knew.
"Believe what you want, Raoul. But the whole town knows it's true." With that Carlotta threw back her head and imperiously exited the store.
Raoul breathed deeply, relaxing the tension in his body. Dealing with Carlotta was always stressful. But at least she had given a place to begin his search – The Maison des Lunes.
Turning, his eyes caught the young blonde woman holding a book to her body. "Good day madam, sorry about earlier." She nodded at him, her large brown eyes wide in alarm.
)–/–
Meg clutched her cloak tighter around her frame. She hunched over the book in her arms, protecting it from the fast-changing elements. It was one of the few tomes that Erik did not have in his extensive library, and a volume that Christine had especially requested. Meg had flipped through Selene et Endymion in the store, but found it far too fantasy-based for her tastes.
But Erik insisted on catering to Christine's wishes, especially after her escape attempt. There had been a strange sort of change between the two since he had brought Christine home from the forest. It seemed he no longer desired the girl's love; he only wanted her happy and safe. Christine now spoke of him on her own, telling Meg how much she enjoyed his company.
A strong gust of wind blew Meg's hood off, returning the girl's mind to her present circumstance. The castle was close by, and Meg knew that she must confront Christine. Too much rode on Christine's fickle affections.
Once past the gates, the magic eased the tight confines of her throat so she could speak and Meg rushed inside, up to Christine's room. Catching her breath, she knocked on the door.
She heard Christine call out, "Come inཀ" and Meg boldly entered the chamber. Tossing Christine's fairy tale on the bed, she demanded, "Who's Raoul le Vicomte, and why did he say you were engaged to him?" Christine's face paled considerably.
Christine fiddled nervously with the bedspread as she explained herself. "Raoul was - is a childhood friend. He moved away to Paris when we were little. He returned recently and asked me to be his wife. I told him I needed to think about it, discuss things with my father, but the next day I came here..."
"But surely you'll tell him 'no', won't you?" Meg's voice broke as she spoke the last sentence. Her hopes of being able to talk to people outside the castle were vanishing before her eyes.
Christine nodded, "I've barely thought about him since I was here. Besides, I don't think we have enough in common to satisfy a marriage. He's practically a stranger now."
"What about Erik?" The words popped out before Meg could stop herself, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.
Christine laughed, more at herself than the impetuous girl before her. "What about Erik? I don't know him any better than I know Raoul. He's been unbelievably kind, but he also imprisoned my father. I just don't know what to believe anymore."
The mention of Christine's father jostled Meg's memory. "Your father! Oh my goodness. Christine! I'm so sorry, I forgot. I wanted to tell you right away, but – " The chit broke off her babbling.
"Tell me what? Is Papa alright?" Fear clouded her words.
Meg shook her head, "He's at the Maison des Lunes. He's dying."
Christine leaped into action, swinging her legs out of bed and shouting, "Help me get dressed, Meg. I must see my father."
Read and Review please!
Our Authors' Note: So we're sitting in front of Jazzetry's computer again, tearing each other to shreds over our takes on Christine/Erik's relationship. Padme's all for immediate tenderness and understanding, while Jazzetry insists that Erik should be off drinking himself to death in a dark corner of the castle. Unfortunately, we've come to no conclusion and just decided to postpone that until the next chapter…You're feedback is welcome, so please review and give us your opinion – tender Erik or drunk Erik?
P.S. Jazzetry is excited about the entrance of Monsieur D'Arque, the role she will be playing in exactly three weeks…yayཀ Padme, however, is sweating in her track uniform and brooding in the corner about Jazzetry's slashing of the script.
P.P.S. We've already decided the Erik bit.