Disclaimer: Everything is the property of Webber/Schumacher/Kay/Leroux/etc. I don't own anything.
A/N: PLEASE READ! I've discovered a slight issue in the plot with the rings. I started writing this after the movie, but then I reread the book and elements from that clashed with the movie adaptation when I wrote them in. In the book, Erik gives a separate ring to Christine, while in the movie at the end she just gives back her engagement ring that she originally received from Raoul (which is kinda confusing, but whatever). For the purposes of this fic, I'll use the idea that there are two rings. As a consequence, the little prologue thing has been very slightly rewritten. I apologize for this! It's only one little sentence.
Once again, I love all my readers to death! I wish you could all have Erik plushies to cuddle in times of sadness/loneliness/lust.
Sorry for taking so long with this chapter! Lots of drama in the past week.
Oh, and Erik in England? Nooo…of course not…that would be…um…tooo…obvious…uh…heh. What can I say? Lucky guess?
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Chapter 4
The English countryside flashed by in a dazzling array of sparkling, white landscape, majestic and other-worldly in its appearance. No where in Paris had there been such gently-sloping hills, such pure and untainted countryside. It felt both refreshing and frightening at the same time to be far away from the urban life that I had always known. I had grown accustomed to the shuffling of carts upon the cobbled streets, the smell of fresh bread baking in the morning, or the drunken songs of revelers that floated into the sky long after all persons of respectable nature had gone to sleep.
As I traveled within the relative safety of the carriage, I could not help but remark upon the wildness of the landscape. I supposed that it was just because I was unused to the spread of miles and miles of land relatively untouched by the centralization and corruption of the city. It was, I decided, ultimately a blessing to be here.
While I was captivated by the alien beauty about me, my companions were a great deal less enthralled. Madames Penous and Renois were engaged in a leisurely card game and Adelle sat beside me restlessly, distractedly reading a novel of some sort. None of them had a glance to spare for this territory, its beauty and enchantment diminished for them on account of the fact that they had already seen it many times over.
Still, I continued to gape with all the delight of a simple child. If not for the cold weather, I would have been happily leaning out the window of the carriage, reaching to capture a few soft snowflakes upon my outstretched palms. It would have been behavior entirely appropriate for Little Lottie, and I found myself hoping that perhaps somewhere inside me that innocent, absent-minded little child still lived.
The horses clattered through a small lane between two massive hills, upon which scant groups of people were scattered about. This time I pushed my face against the side of the carriage in an attempt to gain a better view of what they were doing.
All the figures were zooming down the hills again and again, usually in groups of twos, squealing all the way. Their joyous laughter could be heard faintly through the enclosed walls of the carriage and I was quite suddenly caught up in their mood, "Look!" I exclaimed, clapping my hands together, "They're sledding!"
Madame Renois gave me a look that clearly emphasized her belief in the fact that I was a simpleton.
Adelle, on the other hand, gazed at me with disbelief, "I take it you've never been sledding?"
I shook my head, "No. Oh, it looks so charming!"
Madame Penous reshuffled the cards, "Well, we must be sure to take you sledding while we're here, right, Karine?" The woman appeared to have picked up on the dislike that Karine Renois harbored for me, much to my surprise. Penous was a lovely woman, yet I had always thought that one of her greatest faults was failing to see the flaws in her friends – which, I suppose, was excellent for me in the end.
Renois, however, demonstrated no signs of surprise. "Yes, we'll introduce her to the joys of sledding," she murmured smoothly, assessing me with that ever-indecipherable glance.
That woman was surely trouble and I was liking her less and less with every passing day.
Madame Penous, however, took this as a favorable sign. After the sledders were at least half an hour behind us, she rapped on the roof of the carriage several times. "I'm getting awfully cramped in here," she commented as the horses slowed to a halt.
Adelle stretched, "I agree. Let's get out of this dismal thing."
The four of us piled out into the snow-trodden path, where we proceeded to amble about awkwardly for some time on tired legs. The driver patiently ignored us in favor of his horses, while the other carriage containing the rest of the circle pulled up beside us. Everyone else mingled, but I wandered a ways to the side through a heavy thicket, and halted beside a frozen brook at the edge of the path. Curious, I tested my weight experimentally on the ice and found that it held me up securely. I was overcome with an urge to skate on the slippery surface and did so, slipping about in my laced boots. I would have begun to sing had I not been in the company of some of Paris' most respected and important society.
By this time my skirts were beginning to hang heavily from my waist with the amount of snow they had absorbed. I pulled off my gloves and began swatting at any additional snow on my clothing, shaking my head over my silliness, as I walked back to where my companions were resting. Before I had a chance to clamber back through the thicket, however, I felt the sudden brush of something against my side.
I whirled around, startled. "Who's there?"
A shadow swung down from a tree limb and much to my surprise, I discovered the small form of a young boy crouching in the snow. He could not have been much older than ten, his features still young and unkempt, his skin scratched and muddied with dirt. I could tell that he had probably been out and about, clambering around the forest all day, yet his attire was too fine to belong to a tramp.
His hair was a messy chestnut brown, twigs interwoven among the fine strands. Clever dark eyes regarded me calmly from beneath long bangs, his thin lips pursed in a smirk. I wondered what the lean creature was so happy about as I took a step towards the child.
"What are you doing all the way out here?" I phrased the question kindly, my wariness beginning to dissipate at the sight of the dirty boy. Although I was in England, I spoke in French. My knowledge of the English language could be described as flawed at best.
The boy rose to his full height, deliberately slow in his motion. His movement seemed almost catlike in a way, and I could not help but be reminded of the graceful way that Erik had carried his considerable height. I shook myself to clear the thoughts when I noticed that the boy had begun to circle me with interest. He was young, yet there was something about him that was almost dangerous in a way.
Suddenly, the boy laughed and pulled himself up on to a tree branch. He perched on it for a moment, dangling his legs over the edge. "Look!" He laughed childishly and reached into his pocket. Rather unexpectedly, he addressed my inquiries in heavily accented French. After rummaging a bit, he finally extracted something and held it up for me to see, "It's all shiny and must be worth a fortune!"
There in the boy's palm, Erik's ring glittered brilliantly in the winter sunlight.
My heart dropped to my feet and I knew a desperate panic. "Give that back, you stupid child!" I screeched the words, advancing toward him. I knew that I would climb the tree if I had to.
Much to my annoyance, the boy cheekily rose to his feet and danced nimbly out to the edge of the tree branch. "Oh, calm down. It's only a gold band. Be thankful I was nice and didn't take that ugly rock on your finger instead. It must be worth at least ten times more."
I cast my glance down at Raoul's wedding ring and hastily slipped it off my finger. "Here!" I held it up toward the child, "Take it! Only give the other back to me!"
The boy raised an eyebrow and examined the band he held. "Well, this must be worth something if you're so eager to get it back. Perhaps I'll keep it."
"Vile beast!" I bent down and packed a snowball. "Give it back!" I tossed the snowball at his face, and much to both our surprise, my projectile connected with its target.
It was not enough, however, to knock him from his perch. He quickly regained his footing and favored me with a furious look. "You should be more careful, lady. It's dangerous to provoke a thief."
I did not have much time to ruminate upon these words, as he dropped back to the ground and scuttled by my side once again. Before I knew what had happened, I was sprawling on the ground and the little imp held my wedding ring as well. He juggled the two objects in his hand thoughtfully, looking at me mockingly. "I was going to let you keep the ugly one," he held up the wedding ring, studded with fat diamonds, "but you should be punished for hurting a small, innocent child."
"Beast!" I began to pack another snowball, but he danced away.
"My thanks for your generosity, great lady!" With those words, he scampered off and disappeared into the woods.
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"Christine! Where have you been?" Adelle rushed to my side as soon as I emerged from the thicket, looking for all the world like an ambling bear in my dark skirts and warm furs.
At that moment, I was torn between tears and hatred. So help me, if I saw that boy again, I would kill him.
"Christine?" Tiffanie Penous put a comforting arm about my shoulders and pulled me into the carriage. "You're soaked to the skin! What happened?"
"Someone…someone stole it," I mumbled quietly, trembling from anger and the cold. "That little thief…he…he took it." I put my head in my hands and tore at my hair pins, "It was the last thing I had!"
Tiffanie gently pried away my fingers and took them in her own palms. "Tell me what's wrong, darling. Come now, you're safe."
"The ring. He took the ring!" I sat up and lurched to the door, "I have to get it back! Let me out!"
Adelle caught me in my frenzy and pulled me back with surprising strength. "It's all right, I'm sure that Raoul will understand." She took my ringless left hand and patted it reassuringly.
"No, I don't care about that! I don't!"
At this point, the carriage began to move once more. The landscape increased in beauty as we moved along, but this time I did not have the energy to pay attention to it. All I could think about was that I had somehow betrayed Erik once again with my carelessness. I knew it was silly, but I could not help but pity myself even more.
I did not care a whit for the loss of Raoul's wedding ring. It was, after all, simply an 'ugly rock' to me now. Raoul would surely be furious that I had lost it, but then again he had so many other reasons to be furious with me for. In the grand scheme of things, it was but a minor problem.
For the remainder of the trip, the rest of the women comforted me as best they could, although their glances plainly informed me that they thought I had been taken with an illness. Madame Penous advised me that a warm bath and bed with heated bricks would be prepared for me upon arrival at the villa.
It was one of those days where all that you can think about is depression and how sick of the world you are. All I wanted to do was crawl into that bed and hide under the covers forever with my warm brick and suffering heart. Maybe all I needed was a good dose of brandy to dispel my troubles. I had only tasted the substance once before and had been nearly knocked off my feet by the acid taste, much to Raoul's amusement.
Erik had never approved whenever he saw me with alcohol. I smiled, remembering how protective he had been of my innocence, always cautionary and reproving whenever I was around. In fact, it was now that I realized I had never seen him with a drink himself. So like a father he had been to me at times and I suddenly wished that his warm presence were surrounding me right now, comforting me with gentle arms about my miserable shoulders.
Was there a time anymore when my thoughts did not turn to him? I was worse than a lovesick puppy, batting heavy eyes at the world and dragging my heavy heart along with me like a weighty ball and chain from my feet.
I had never been as innocent as Erik deceived himself to believe. I may have looked a child, but betrayal, deception, and cruelty had been hidden all along in my soul for him to discover. I was his Pandora's Box, and in me he had rediscovered all the torment and agony in the world. I had not even left him with Hope, for she too had escaped with her flitting gossamer wings.
I knew that I would forever be plagued by his memory and the remembrance of my final and ultimate betrayal.
Christine…Christine…
Even now, his voice teased at my senses as it had in those long-departed days at the Opera Populaire. Then I had believed the disembodied voice to be the spirit of the Angel of Music, but now I knew it had been yet another one of Erik's elaborate tricks. At the same time I did not care, for even with the unmasking of the deception, the magic had never truly disappeared. That life had been a genuine dream; one I now wished that I had never awoken from.
If only I could hear him sing to me once more: just one last song, and I would be satisfied for the rest of my life. Not happy, no, but somehow it felt as if things had never been given a proper end after that last night of Don Juan.
How I wished that I could sing again! Perhaps if I danced upon a snowy hilltop and gave my voice to the winds in the dead of night, then he might hear me! If only!
A lone tear streaked down my right cheek at the same time as Adelle touched my shoulder lightly. "We're here," she informed me, nodding out the window.
I followed her gaze and found that we stood at the brink of a long gravel avenue meandering through a sweeping arch that disappeared to reveal a vast orchard. Through the vast multitude of trees, I could not yet see the villa that lay at the end of the avenue. The horses continued to clatter through the trees heavily clad in snow, their boughs bare of leaves but stooping with weight. In the dim light of a setting sun obscured by heavy snow clouds, the entire place had a mournful look reminiscent of my father's graveyard in winter. I shuddered, recalling that one day I had walked forlornly among the weeping statuettes, singing for both my father and for Erik.
No! I will not think of him! I had to stop ruminating upon the past and things that could never be, or it would surely drive me mad.
I was mad with love. How ironically stupid I was! Erik would have laughed in my face had I ever declared such a thing in his presence!
Yet, if I had been brave, then perhaps things might have been different.
If only I had possessed the courage to stay with him after Don Juan.
If only he had heard my muffled protest as he pushed me away after I kissed him.
If only I had told him honestly that I loved him.
He might have given me a disbelieving look and then hesitantly reached forward to brush his fingertips against my burning cheek. I would have allowed him to draw me close until our bodies melded into one perfect shape and we were consumed entirely by the fire of our passion. I recalled the feel of his lips on mine; how hesitantly he had responded that first time, a fleeting look of fear in his lonesome eyes. But I had guided him until he breathed his love into me, ever so gently probing as if afraid to frighten me away.
But in his eyes was all the sadness of the world.
If Raoul had not been watching, I would have stayed.
Please, Erik, I wish you could understand why I left.
I wish I could understand why I did not come back.
We clattered to a stop before a rather menacing-looking villa that was larger than anything I had ever seen. As I stepped out and looked up, I thought it dwarfed my Parisian home by a factor of at least twenty. With three levels, it seemed to sprawl out in every direction imaginable. The stone architecture was done with a firm and plain hand, but the windows glinted large and welcoming. Overall, the impressive hall somehow managed to retain a homey air despite its otherwise imposing features. I thought that it must look gorgeous in the spring when the vines caressing the stonework budded and the trees displayed soft leaves.
A prim butler inched out the elegant doors at the forefront of the villa, standing at attention with a mildly disinterested air. It seemed to be the look that most butlers retained. Only when Madame Penous clambered out of the carriage and coughed several times, did he deign to turn his attention to her.
"Peers, how wondrous to see you again!" Madame Penous was never one to be easily deflated by icy attitudes.
Peers, as his name was, smoothed back his balding gray hair and sniffed imperiously. "Your usual rooms, Madame?"
"Yes, and we'll need some additional rooms for a new guest this year!"
Peers blinked several times in indignation. "Madame, how many more guests are you planning on bringing this time? Do you not remember that disaster with - ."
"Yes, yes, Peers. Only one this year!" Penous interrupted the elderly man with a nervous laugh. I only wondered briefly about what this escapade of last year had been, before I found Peers examining me with a critical eye.
I shifted uncomfortably beneath his scrutiny, put off by his potent air of condescension. It was much like the looks I had received from much of Raoul's staff at the manor when I had first come to live with him. Yet at the time, they had known me to be a simple chorus girl; these people knew nothing about me or my past.
Peers, however, said nothing and snapped his fingers several times. Three young maids spilled out of the house, tripping over each other in their haste to obey and mussing their uniforms. Without any further words from the butler, they scooped up our belongings and darted back in to the villa. Peers sniffed once again and indicated that we follow him inside; immediately, snowflakes began to drift from the sky and fell lightly about us as we retreated. It seemed that we had made a timely arrival before another snowstorm could hit us.
"Don't worry about him, my dear," Madame Penous placed a comforting hand on my arm. "Peers is like that with everyone."
Adelle giggled, "Last year we stole his wig and placed it on the altar in the chapel."
Renois' eyes narrowed, "We? I recall that only you and Esmeralde were involved in that idiocy. Hopefully you've grown up by now."
"Karine, honestly, let's not fight. We're on holiday after all!" Penous continued to escort me into the house. The décor inside the villa was surprisingly bold and innovative for a structure that on the outside, appeared elegantly plain at best. Here, the home was no less than a modern architectural wonder with daring arches creeping into every aspect of the design and much that was reminiscent of classical and renaissance design. In fact, I could not even decide if there was a pattern to all this, or if it was just a muddled blend of a disorderly mind with an active imagination.
Directly in front of us the most grandiose staircase that I had ever seen swept up to the upper levels, dividing into two separate forms that curved around the gallery of the entrance hall. Portraits of severe men and women hung everywhere, presumably past masters of the house.
The current master of the house appeared at the top of the impressive staircase. According to Madame Penous, it was more appropriate to say 'mistress', for although the woman was married, her husband was a man too old and weary to concern himself with much besides gambling these days. At the beginning of our ride here, Tiffanie had informed me of much of the history associated with the house and family, and from the information I had deduced that Lady Barlow was a bit of an eccentric.
Slowly, she descended the staircase, enveloped in a feather boa that accented the rouge on her cheeks. If I hadn't known better, I would have believed her to be an actress from glorious days long past. She was even more matronly than Tiffanie Penous, and despite her slightly strange appearance, her plump and graying countenance was kind. I could immediately see why Lady Barlow and Madame Penous were friends as they stepped forward to embrace each other.
Lady Barlow clapped her hands together in much the same way as Penous often did, and exclaimed in accented French, "Oh, Tiffanie, I'm so glad you brought the girls along! Adelle, it's lovely to see you here!" She swept her boa over her shoulder and rolled up the sleeves of her voluminous pink gown as she moved to greet the other six women in our party. When she came to Karine Renois, I noted the forced look of welcome in Lady Barlow's eyes, but did not have much time to ponder its significance, as the lady turned her eyes to me.
"My, you must be the lovely Christine!" She grabbed both my hands and flashed me a cheerful grin, "Tiffanie wrote and told me all about you! You'll simply love it here! I myself adore the Opera, just don't have that much time for it. Usually I hold these little soirees for a few personal friends – nothing formal, mind you! Small; tiny, really, and we all sing. Myself, I can't carry a tune, but I know some girls who can!" She smiled at Madame Penous and Adelle as she began to lead me up the staircase with the rest of the entourage following. "I hear you have a formidable interest in the arts, Christine!" She continued to babble, addressing me informally, and I found it comforting in a way.
Madame Penous cleared her throat behind us, "Lizzie, Christine was not feeling well during the trip here and I was wondering if she might simply be allowed to rest for the evening?"
"Oh, but I've had the staff cook such a sumptuous meal for us all!" Lady Barlow peered into my face, "Are you truly too ill for some of our local English specialties?"
I shook my head weakly.
"See, Tiffanie? The girl is a genuine bundle of energy! Aren't you, child?"
Lady Barlow was certainly old enough to be my mother, and dimly I wondered if her children ever felt as exhausted from being around her as I now did. Truly, she seemed a kind soul, but I wondered if she ever took the time to simply sit down and relax. Even now, she was fairly trotting up the stairs at a steady pace.
I realized suddenly that I had been asked a question and turned back to my hostess with the most happy look I could muster in my exhaustion. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
Lady Barlow laughed, a sound that was surprising in its delicacy for such an vigorous woman. "I asked if you can sing, Christine! You simply must indulge us at one of my soirees!"
"I…I really can't sing at all." I hoped I didn't seem too flustered by the inquiry.
"Well, that makes two of us! Maybe we can croon a horrid duet together sometime?" Lady Barlow addressed the other women, "Remember, dinner is at six o'clock, sharp! If you're late, Peers is liable to become rather irate."
At the mention of his name, Peers appeared behind our group as if by magic.
"Peers will show you to your rooms," Lady Barlow waved a hand in the direction of various hallways as we emerged on the second level. She released my arm, "I do hope we'll have a chance to talk soon, Christine!" She flounced away in another direction, whispering directions to Peers, who was looking more and more sour by the second.
By the time Peers actually revealed the location of my room to me, I was too exhausted to even remember where the front door was. I changed into a warm nightgown and barely had time to remark upon my lavish surroundings before I collapsed wearily on the soft bed and lost myself to sleep.
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When I next opened my eyes, I found that night had long fallen with a bright moon hanging high in the sky. It seemed that someone had been in and drawn a coverlet over my body as I slept. It had probably been Adelle or one of the other women who had decided to let me rest after my inexplicable breakdown earlier that day.
The bleariness rapidly dissipated from me and I clambered to my full height. I suddenly felt very restless and quite in need of a brisk walk to clear my thoughts and to think about what I was really doing here. I had decided to come to England initially to escape Raoul for a time, but was this also the first step to escaping my marriage forever?
It was certainly a frightening thought. I knew divorce was not something they did in France, and even in cases of abuse or the like, wives seldom had the power to escape their husbands. Raoul had never done anything to harm me; at least, he had never hurt me physically. Still, I believed that he did not truly realize that he was stifling and hurting my very spirit.
It was possible my spirit had been lost long ago. Perhaps I had forgotten it in a cave and left it to bask on the sepulchral shores of an underground lake.
A maid had also built up a warm fire which was now blazing cheerily at the foot of the bed. I knelt beside it for a moment, floating my palms just beyond the reach of the flames. Presently I drew myself up and resolved to take that walk I had been debating. I paused to collect a warm woolen robe hanging on a peg by the bed and inserted my feet into slippers toasting by the fire. My hair was loose and unbound with curls spilling messily in every direction, but when the clock tolled once to signify the hour, I was hard put to care.
I slipped out of my room and into the hall where candelabra hung with silent candles. The hallway seemed to stretch for miles in either direction and so I set off in a completely accidental direction, trusting myself to remember the way back to my room. In the darkness, it was hard to see anything but the shadows that clung to the walls. Several times I nearly turned back, frightened by the peculiar villa that had seemed so welcoming in the full light of day.
I paused at an enormous vertical window for a moment, regarding the still landscape outside. Above the trees in the orchard, the sky continued to throw snow upon the ground. Tomorrow, the alien landscape would probably seem ethereal to me since I was unaccustomed to such heavy bouts of snowfall. When morning came I would explore to my heart's content and I would not care what Karine Renois or any of the others thought of me.
For several more minutes I hovered at the window, thoroughly enchanted by the falling flakes. I reveled in the beautiful light of the moon that sent shafts of ethereal illumination into the hall, feeling as if I were the only person in the entire world who now saw this beauty.
"Who are you?"
I screamed and flattened myself against the cool glass panes of the frostbitten window. When I saw who the owner of the voice was, my fright instantly switched to fury.
It was the little thief who had robbed me earlier that day.
"You!" I recovered myself rapidly and lunged for the boy without further thought. "Give it back!"
"Aieee!" The boy shrieked, obviously caught off his guard at this late hour. I tackled him and began to turn out his pockets, frantically searching. He was still wearing the vagrant clothes from earlier, so it was a good bet the ring was on his person somewhere.
"Where is it?" My wrath had certainly begun to drive me insane.
Presently, the boy began to shout again. "Help! Someone! Grandma! I'm being attacked!"
"Cheeky little bugger!" I had half a mind to slap him across the face, but in the end I did not have an opportunity to do so. Somehow, he managed to place a well-aimed kick to my stomach, and scuttled away. I was knocked on to my back by the force of the blow and sprawled in a very unladylike manner on the floor. Unluckily, it was a hard wooden surface that connected with my backside quite painfully.
"You could be locked up for attacking an innocent child." The boy crossed his small arms over his chest and nodded at me imperiously. He stood over me, an impertinent smirk on his face. "Oh yes, Grandma will have you shipped off to prison first thing in the morning!"
"I hate you," I hissed, attempting to sit up. My back protested heavily, every muscle aching as I moved.
The boy's sneer only grew larger. "Who could hate such an guiltless, amiable child who has been attacked by a madwoman?"
"You stole something from me and I want it back!" Aching back or not, I pounced at him once again, but this time he was prepared and easily sidestepped my attempt. I ended up only tripping clumsily back to my feet and slumping in a heap against the wall. Where had all my grace gone? I had once been a polished dancer, and now I fairly tripped over my own feet.
Impudent brat that he was, the boy began to laugh. It was soft at first, but slowly grew louder and more obnoxious in nature. I was unpleasantly reminded of the false laughter that Raoul so often irritated my ears with these days.
"Lucien!"
A nebulous form had materialized in the shadows above us, the voice masculine and callous.
At the harsh utterance of the name, the boy instantly shut his mouth and turned his back to me. For my part, I sagged against the wall in an attempt to hide myself and my shame. After all, I had just been thoroughly beaten by a small child who was probably no more than a decade old. On the other hand, I was also curious who my rescuer would be; the boy obviously seemed to respond to whoever the owner of the voice was.
"Lucien, what is the meaning of gallivanting about at this hour?" The man reached forward and shook Lucien by the shoulders harshly, "Your mother has been absolutely ill with concern ever since you disappeared yesterday morning!" When he stepped into the moonlight, his face was cast into the ghostly light, and for a moment I feared that I had indeed lost sight of all my mental faculties.
I had come to England to escape my vast multitude of troubles, not confront them head on in a dark hallway in the predawn hours.
"Erik…" I breathed, my voice so soft that I scarcely heard it myself.
At that precise moment he turned and looked right at me. His astonishment was plain on his face, but only for a brief moment. After the initial look of disbelief, he recovered himself rapidly and addressed the boy calmly, "Lucien, go to your mother."
"But – but I've been attacked!" Lucien darted out of Erik's grasp and pointed at me. "She's a madwoman! She tried to kill me!"
"Did she?" Erik's tone was one of dry amusement. "Somehow I cannot envision such a thing occurring."
"Honest, look at her!" Lucien jabbed a finger in my direction again, "She was all wild and everything! She tried to steal from me!"
At that, I forgot about whom I was talking to for a second. "That's not true! He stole from me!"
"Oh?" Erik raised one eyebrow at the boy. "What did you take, Lucien?"
Lucien immediately pouted, "You believe her?"
"Unless you want to spend the next month sanding in the quarry, you'll answer the question."
"But !" The boy broke off at the look that Erik was giving him. He shuffled uncomfortably and reached into the messy folds of his tattered clothing. "Here! It's only a stupid, ugly ring!" He tossed the object at Erik, who caught it easily with a curious glance.
Lucien began to stomp away in the manner that only a child could muster, but was halted by one further inflection. "Wash and change before you present yourself to your mother; you know she hates it when you're dressed like that."
"Yes, sir," Lucien sighed, obviously beaten and hunching his shoulders.
"Afterward, you will meet me by the gates an hour before sunrise."
Lucien twisted back resentfully, "But you said !"
"You believed that I would not punish you?" Erik toyed with my wedding ring, deftly winding it through his fingers.
Lucien abruptly snarled something in English, but stalked off nevertheless. Even when we could no longer see him, his irate muttering could still be distinctly heard.
When we were alone, neither of us said another word for a time. I felt quite vulnerable and helpless on the ground, and it was all I could do not to begin crying on the spot. I did not know exactly why I so wanted to weep, but in the end it did not really matter. Everything was so muddled and confused right now that it was all I could do to keep my wits about me.
"Well, this is certainly interesting."
I gasped, for Erik had unexpectedly knelt easily by my side.
He offered his hand to me, angling his head in invitation, "Come; that floor looks most uncomfortable."
Hesitantly, I slid my small hand into his gentle grasp and allowed myself to be pulled to my feet. He steadied me about the waist easily, as if righting one of his painted dolls that he had once crafted for the Opera Populaire. I shuddered at the contact, but it was an intimation of pleasure and not fear.
Erik, however, missed nothing as usual. He hurriedly withdrew his touch, clearly believing I trembled from aversion. I did not miss the look of pain in his intense eyes, but I also could not find an appropriate way to mend his mistaken supposition. So it had always been with us, our intertwined lives one long tale of erroneous assumptions and repressed words.
"What are you doing here, Christine?" He finally demanded this of me sharply, stepping away from me to stand by the window. "You're the last person I expected to see."
"So are you," I returned, watching as he began to toss my wedding ring into the air. I followed its path intently, wanting to focus on anything but him. When the ring of shimmering diamonds suddenly disappeared in midair, I could not help but draw on a rough intake of breath. "How'd you do that?" I demanded, curious despite myself.
Erik placed a long finger against his lips and smirked in a way that was reminiscent of Lucien. "It's a secret," he whispered playfully. "I am sure, however, that you have seen this trick before," he reached behind my ear and presently the ring reappeared before my startled eyes.
I smiled, "Magic has always been utterly incomprehensible to me."
"It is not as mystifying as you make it out to be. But what I am curious about is how you managed to lose this." He held out the diamond ring and dropped it into my waiting palm.
Almost automatically, I slipped the ring back on. "That boy stole it from me this morning," I explained softly, twisting it on my finger. For some reason I could not tell Erik about the other object that Lucien had taken from me…I could not bear to bring up that ring, for its very mention would surely incite a torrent of inquiries that I was not prepared to handle yet.
Erik appeared to be greatly entertained. "You really should not wear something like that in broad daylight in the middle of a forest where there are bandits and robbers at large."
"I didn't!" I protested loudly. "I just took off my gloves for a second, and the little monster managed to snatch it off my finger!"
"He's getting better," Erik commented thoughtfully. "You should be careful around him."
Something was bothering me about the way I had seen Erik and the boy interact. The Erik I had known had despised being around children, and his disposition had been entirely unsuited to even coming in contact with them. What then, was the nature of his relationship to this Lucien who had obeyed him almost unquestioningly?
"The boy…" I mumbled softly, "Is he yours?"
Erik tilted his head with a sly smile, "Why? Does it bother you?"
"No! I just…" Truthfully, I did not even know what to think. I myself had proved unable to bear any children, and it was almost as if this was the world's cruel way of throwing that fact back in my face. "I'm just surprised, that's all."
"Really, Christine, you continue to amaze me with your idiocy," Erik remarked, folding his hands behind his back.
I noted that he wore a long, dark robe that hugged the length of his trim form. It was rather flattering on him, and I could not help but allow my eyes to focus on the length of bare skin that his white undershirt revealed beneath the robe.
Erik continued, "I actually caught the boy trying to rob me several years ago in London. He very nearly succeeded too."
I could not help but feel relieved that my suspicions had been denied. I flung a teasing glance at Erik, "Losing our touch, are we?"
"I said very nearly."
I regained my serious expression and inquired, "But that still doesn't explain how you came to be here."
"Lucien is Lady Barlow's grandson. I met her in London as well and she managed to convince me to apprentice the boy."
This was too much incomprehensible information at once. Erik absolutely hated people. Many times he had not even counted himself as a member of the human race, always referring to others as creatures wholly different from himself. The last thing I had expected was to find him consulting with people like the socialite Lady Barlow and the young pickpocket Lucien. I had so much to ask; so much I wanted to know, but I settled for an innocuous question instead.
"What could you possibly be teaching him?" I feared that my words had come out as too harsh-sounding and skeptical.
"Thievery and innovative methods of torture," he quipped lightly.
Nadir's words came back unbidden into my mind. I felt a chill curl around my spine and I took a step back almost without knowing what I did. "You…you should not jest about such things." My voice shook despite my best efforts to steady my heartbeat.
Erik's expression by the window was despondent as he murmured sadly, "Do you really think so little of me, Christine? Is the cold-blooded monster the only thing you see whenever you think of me? I see that you shrink from my touch; I hear the apprehension in your voice. Even now, you fear me. Even now it repulses you to be around me." He sighed and fixed his attention upon the moon; from this angle, the light cast a curious shadow across the unmasked side of his face, throwing the porcelain into illumination.
"No! I - ."
"Christine, why are you here?" Erik cut me off abruptly, leaning against the wall.
"I'm…I'm on holiday," I spoke softly, even as I looked at him earnestly. Silently, I pleaded for him to at least glance at me so that he would see that all his fears were not true! So that he could see I loved him unconditionally despite everything else that was between us!
In the muted twilight, it was easy to believe in such things. It was effortless to convince myself that nothing else mattered and that we could overcome any obstacles. Still, somewhere my senses were rooted in the present, and they told me that whatever I longed for…I had best forget it.
He frowned, "The arts circle?"
"Yes."
"Oh," was all he said.
I gathered my courage and touched his arm lightly. "Erik, look at me. Why do you insist on maintaining this barrier between the two of us? Why won't you - ."
"Why won't I what, Christine?" He roughly extracted the velvety fabric of his sleeve from my hand, "You just don't understand, do you? This barrier which you speak of – it is your doing, not mine. You made your choice, and God, don't I know it!"
"Stop saying that!" I cried out the words, flinging myself in front of him. "What if I made the wrong choice! What if I've finally realized what I truly desire!"
Erik began to back away from me slowly, his eyes wild and dark in the dusky light. "You are the one who should not jest about such things, child."
When he addressed me as child, it truly stung. Once it had been a comfort to me; a sign that I could always find solace in this man who was so much to me. Now, it was a denial of every thought and emotion that I had ever tried to bring to light. It was as if a door had been locked, and I had only realized just now that I no longer possessed the key.
"What did you call me?" My tone was low and forced; on the brink of rage.
"I called you a child, Christine! A foolish, spoiled princess! Perhaps I was the greater fool for always treating you as such!"
"How dare you!" Forgetting myself once again, I tried to hit him in a moment of pure fury.
Erik easily caught my fragile wrist in his strong grip; I stumbled and fell against his strong frame, my wrist twisting agonizingly. He held me there against his body, bending forward to brush a hard whisper into my ear, "You cannot have everything, Christine. You must learn that the world is an unforgiving and heartless realm. You are not a princess, nor are you an angel; you are a human being who must learn to suffer as the rest of the world suffers."
I nearly lost the strength to stand, being so close to him yet again and feeling the very pulse of his heart against my cheek. His skin was hot and enticing beneath my touch, and oh, how I longed to take his face into my hands and press my body into his until we were one! We had once sung of such passion, but to truly experience it would sweep my senses into a wholly other world!
"You still do not realize, do you, Christine?" He suddenly thrust me away and shuddered severely.
I stumbled back and fell to my knees, my limbs finally giving out. "I do realize," I protested stubbornly, "I finally understand!"
Erik looked down at me with an unfathomable stare. "You're too late again. Even now, you still haven't learned."
"I have! I-."
"You cannot possibly comprehend how much it is that I want you to suffer, Christine. I want you to know all the agony and torment that I have known; I want you to feel the true pain of what it means to love someone." He crouched down beside me and sighed deeply, "How sweet the irony of it all."
"What do you mean?" I looked up at him wretchedly, aware that I had been weeping for some time now.
Although the bare skin of his chest had burned beneath my touch, his fingertips were surprisingly cool as he traced the marks of the tears upon my face. I began to sob ever more noisily when he spoke his final damned words; "Our roles have been reversed, Christine, and you cannot acknowledge the fact that you no longer hold me in your power as you once did."
I threw myself at his feet, beating the floor in anguish. In all my dreams; in all my longings, I had never once imagined such an outcome! I had never imagined that he could smile even as he spoke such heartless words! How could he!
"You are a pitiable sight, Christine." Erik stepped away from me, his words thoughtful, "But somehow, I can no longer bring myself to care."
After he left, I do not know how I managed to drag myself back to my room. I only knew that I found a soft pillow and wept until my body could no longer sustain me, and I fell into an abject sleep.
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A/N: At first I had problems with Erik when I reread this chapter, but then I decided to try and go along with him switching moods so quickly. After all, we do know that he is an extremely mercurial individual. You never know what that Phantom's going to do next!
Anyone remember the time he went all psycho on Christine after she told him that she had a cold? Yeah. Craaaazy, but lovable all the same.
As usual, thanks for reading! I'll try to crank out the next chapter more quickly this time!