Chapter Ten: Faith
Can you bow out
when they're shouting
your name?
"NOOO!" She screamed, upon arrival to a conscious state. Where am I? Where is Erik? She was so frightened and alone in this new pain, that all she wanted was to return to the comfortable embrace of her lovers arms. The park, how they had been so comfortable, so gentle with each other, why had they been ripped apart?
She looked at her stomach, swollen with life. Suddenly the pain made sense, as she held herself asking herself whose it was. She tried to remember, and all she could think of was that face, the stark white mask and those amber eyes. Was it Erik's? It had to be, who else was there? She knew there was something missing. Wasn't Erik dead? She had been so sure, had that been all a dream?
She certainly got a surprise when he entered her room, bringing with him a basin of water and more towels.
(')'
-
This hour shall see
your darkest fears. .
Erik saw her staring at him in wonderment and did not know what he was going to do.
His first instinct was to play the ghost aspect of it, until she moaned out for him.
"Erik, Erik it hurts..." She started to say, "Min ängel! Ängel av musik är tillbaka."
Erik checked her head to find it was feverish. He breathed a heavy sigh. She was speaking in Swedish? She had never used her native tongue in front of him, and if he hadn't spent sometime in Sweden for awhile, among many places in his travels, he would have been quite confused. He felt a little more at ease knowing that she was delirious, if she was feverish, she would not be taken seriously about him being there, and she may even think he was an apparition. However, he knew that there was a curse amongst this blessing. After all, her being feverish would not help her pass a child that was already being brought into this world under harsh circumstances.
His heart was in his throat, and he hated himself for admitting it, but he wished that Raoul would get here.
Yes Raoul! He was wishing that the man who stole the only love of his life would get here to take care of her!
Oh that insolent boy, He thought bitterly, still feeling his rage to kill.
Where the hell was he? He would definitely kill him if Christine died!
Of course, he knew that it wouldn't be the younger man's fault, but he would be so stricken with grief, he knew that nothing would stop his blind rage and fury, for the one thing that always had stopped him. His one love, Christine would be dead, and no one would stand in the way on his decent into madness.
Leaving him the opportunity to be rid of the Vicomte once and for all.
He wanted to be with her, he truly did, but he could not do anything for her while there. All he knew was that if he went to his small cabin, he could concoct an herbal remedy to bring her fever down so she could have the baby under its irregular conditions already.
So, he sat there, washing her forehead, as her breathing was reduced to short haggard breaths of air, and he saw the life slipping away on her. The color was draining from her face, and her eyes were frantic.
"Var er jag? I am so terribly afraid..." She said incoherently.
"Relax Christine, relax my love... breath in, breath out..." Erik said as her first contraction gripped her and she screamed out in pain. He held out his hand to her so she may hold it, and looked away as she unknowingly dislocated two of his fingers. He felt as if he was going to vomit, to see her in this state.
She is not ready; she will never be ready for this... He thought.
Slowly her gripped loosened and when he looked back, she had fallen asleep again from the pain.
"She is this way monsieur..." He heard Michelle say loudly, as to give him warning they were on their way up.
"How could you leave her alone?" The midwife and doctor both said to her.
"There were no other servants left in the house. Madame! It is because Mme de Chagny gives every servant leave when the Vicomte goes away. She says that people have to experience the quality of life and will never do that cooped up serving arrogant brats. We had no other way, Charlotte had left to warn the Vicomte as soon as possible." Michelle explained defending her actions.
Erik, got up gracefully, careful not to make a sound and retreated to the balcony, where he was now waiting to see what the Doctor was to do.
"She really is a caring soul isn't she?" The Dr. Leblanc said.
"Yes Doctor, Charlotte and I stay with her because we have no where else to go, she is like our sister, though we should never mention this to anyone else." She said shyly as they came closer to the room.
"That's understandable, Michelle, you do not want to ruin her position in society." the Doctor murmured not really thinking of her stature.
They reacted the same way he had at the sight of the disheveled Vicomtess, bloodied and unconscious in her bed. The Doctor stared steadily at her body, lying in the bed, covered in blood. The midwife had to look away before she could turn back to the site of Christine's position.
"Dear lord have mercy..." The midwife said, crossing herself and rubbing her rosemary beads.
"Michelle, take my coat please, this is to be a long night..." Dr Leblanc said gravely.
This confirmed what Erik already knew.
Christine, well... Christine's chances were...
NO! He refused to believe that.
He would not think that! He quietly started to think of the herbal remedy's he knew that he could concocted so at least the pain wouldn't be as fierce, giving her more of a chance.
"Whose cloak is this?" Dr. Leblanc asked and Erik peeked to look and see that he had left his black cloak still wrapped around Christine.
"It was the Vicomte's sir, she was wearing it in reminder of him while he was away... it is his old one sir..." Michelle said trying to find a suitable lie.
Quickly she looked over to the balcony, not seeing him, but knowing he was there.
The Doctor seemed to be satisfied with the answer Michelle produced and unwrapped the black cloak, beginning to undress Christine. "How did the Vicomtess get on the bed?" The midwife asked cautiously. "I uh… there was…" Michelle began. Both the doctor and the midwife looked at Michelle expectantly.
Damn it! Erik thought, why must people be so stupidly curious?
Just as Erik was sure that Michelle was going to break down and admit Erik's secret, Christine let out a blood-curdling howl.
"ERIK!" She screamed, having the Dr. Leblanc and the midwife, look at her with a mixture of horror and surprise. "It's the name she had chosen on if her child were to be a boy." Michelle said, rushing to help the doctor undress Christine faster. Struggling, he got out of the way, as the midwife began to undress her as well.
"Michelle, you must tell Erik, Tell him that I know… I see now, I love him!" Christine cried out as she gave into another contraction. "Yes Madame, I shall tell your child, I shall tell him." Michelle said, trying her best to cover up Christine's constant innocent betrayal. If the doctor or the midwife found it odd or thought it was untrue, their faces never showed one sign of disbelief. Erik sighed a shaky sigh, part relief, and part sadness at her desperation for him to be there.
"Mlle's, this might be the best job for you two." Leblanc told Michelle and the midwife. "I shall be preparing for the delivery. When Charlotte gets back Michelle, one will have to send for Father Leverett."
Erik took this as his chance to bow out and return home to find something, anything that would help Christine and her child.
(')'
-
A red scarf . . .
the attic . . .
Little Lotté . . . . .
Christine was a child again, skipping along the road dressed rather comfortably for the weather. Her curls bounced as she skipped along side her father, her protector, the only man she loved.
Suddenly in a gust of wind, her scarf flew from her neck.
"No!' She cried out a desperate plea, as the scarf blew out to sea. She watched as it danced in the wind, before it fell onto the waves. She wished to run after it, to be the scarf itself, she wished to be free and do as she pleased, to sing and dance weightlessly like the scarf had.
"I will save it for you Mlle!" A boy, older than her called and, against the pleas of a woman with him, he ran into the bitter cold sea to retrieve the small scarf that's only purpose, up to that point when it had danced carelessly, was to look pretty on her throat.
When he had it in his hand, he began to swim back to her, diving under the waves and back up. The sun was glimmering in Christine's small eyes, making it hard to see him clearly, until that boy grew into a figure of a man as he walked up the shoreline.
"Here is your scarf, my love." The stranger said to Christine, and she noticed that the world around her was fading to black. Scared, she looked to her right, where her father had been standing.
No longer was he there; she was alone. Alone with a man calling her his love and she was afraid! Not of this man, but of the dark. She was afraid of the dark.
"Protect me!" She yelped running into the strange, handsome man' s arms. They were strong, and she felt safe in them, like she would in her fathers. She knew that he would take care of her, he was so kind… so gentle.
"I will always feel the need to protect you Christine..." She heard him say as she held on to his legs for dear life and shut her eyes.
Suddenly her fear went away, she felt safe in this man's arms. He would protect her, he would love her, and he would be there to serve her needs lovingly and tenderly forever.
She loved him, everything would be fine when she was in this man's arms. He was not dangerous, like the dark that surrounded her.
(')'
-
Should he suspect her
God protect her!
Raoul did not wait for the carriage to stop.
Instead, as the horses were slowing outside the chateau, he opened the door and jumped from the cab. He did not even stop to help Charlotte out.
If she was offended she didn't say anything but followed quickly behind at the same running pace into the manor. As fast as he could, he ran up the stairs, two at a time. He made it in time to find the midwife coming out of the room with a grim expression.
"Is she?" He asked. She crossed herself, and shook her head sadly, as she began to walk away. Panicking he opened the door to Christine's room only to find the doctor holding a small bundle in his arms. He stopped, not expecting to see the man rocking the infant back and forth.
"Is, that... my child?" Raoul asked walking closer.
"That she is, my dear young man." Doctor Leblanc said trying to smile.
Raoul took a step closer, only to see a very, very small child in the arms of the elderly man.
Her eyes were closed and she was a pink little ball of flesh, beautiful, and tiny. So small, and yet she was so quiet. It was eerie to him, weren't newborn babes suppose to cry?
Suddenly, he felt ice run through his veins.
"Is she?" He started.
"I don't know, if she makes it through the night, then the chances are she will live. Only time will tell. I tried to have Michelle go for Father Leverett, however apparently he is on leave until tomorrow. It's going to be a trying night for you Vicomte."
"And what of Christine?" He asked looking to the woman shaking uncontrollably under the covers. The doctor's eyes grew sadder, then they turned to look at the mass of flesh and agony that had become of the once beautiful Vicomtess.
"I am not going to lie to you, there is very little hope." He said staring back down at the child in his arms, and passing the girl over to her father. "I must go, there is nothing I can do for either of them. I suggest you spend some time getting to know your daughter, if… chances make it so you may not." Leblanc said and walked away from them. Raoul held his daughter for the first time and suddenly felt at loss for words.
Here, he was holding the world in his arms, and knew that it was possible she would slip away into nothingness leaving him void.
He looked over at his wife who was struggling against death and back down to his daughter.
Finally, he passed the girl over to Charlotte and went over to Christine's side.
"Dearest?" he asked getting closer to Christine. She slowly opened her eyes, making his heart leap for joy until they did not clear and he could see the hazy confusion in them.
"Vem er du! Bli bort! Var er Ängel! Ängel av musik!" Christine screamed trying to escape him. Slowly he backed away from the bed and looked over to Charlotte, rocking his daughter back and forth.
"I shall be in my study Charlotte, please put… the child… in her cradle." He asked and began to make his way down the steps.
He may not speak Swedish, but music was music in almost every language he heard it in… and he was doubting he reminded Christine of Melody's long past. Now he sat in his study, biting his knuckles, waiting for Christine's fever to break so he can be with her without her feral fear of him. Again, when Charlotte had walked down the steps, he asked of Christine's condition. Numbly he walked into his study and poured himself some brandy. Part of him wanted to race to Christine's side and bleed for her, if it meant she would be alright, and part of him wanted to stay as far away from the room as he possibly could.
He admitted it; he didn't have what it took to see the light in her face slowly slip into the darkness he tried for so long to keep from her.
Looking over to his bookshelf, he saw his bible.
Raoul was a known religious man, and yet, he had truly never been devoted.
Yes, he and Christine went every Sunday to mass, he donated to Father Leverett's collection plate, but he had always thought it to be to make an appearance, and keep social ties.
Now, there he was, feeling ashamed to even ask for God's help in this time of his life where he could loose it all. As he fell to his knees and bowed his head, letting his soft blonde hair fall into his eyes, he began to pray.
(')'
-
Say your prayers,
black angel of death.
Erik rushed down to the property with the vile of liquid in his hands.
It had taken him the three and a half hours away from Christine to make it, and in that time, he had seen the Vicomte's return.
"Good," He thought mechanically, "At least someone who loves her is there now."
He tried not to make comparisons between his book and the situation at hand, his over annalistic mind always finding it's way to work at the most emotional of times. Slowly he made his way down to the Estate that was in an eerie silence.
Swiftly, he climbed up the drainpipe once more, to the room where he left Christine. Once making sure no one was in the room other than Michelle, he entered quickly.
"Where is her husband?" He asked the timid girl who held his secret.
"He has shut himself up in his study and refuses to see no one except Mme once she has waken." Michelle said, trying to vocalize to the intimidating man that the Vicomte was emotionally broken.
Erik felt rage enter him again. The selfish child! He cannot even look past his own needs to see that he should be here beside her?
I would KILL him if he didn't have a child to support now!
Slowly he made his way over to the fussing Christine. She was deathly pale, like the moon this evening and if he had not known the consequences of this beauty, he would of found it intriguing.
"I shall keep watch..." Michelle said getting up to leave, partly because if he was found in the presence of the Vicomtess, he surely would be arrested, or even murdered, and partly because he terrified the girl so much she did not want to be in the same room.
Before the door was eve closed, Erik was beside Christine, aiding her head so that she drank the bitter liquid.
The taste on her tongue woke her from her feverish dream, and he found she was still extremely incoherent.
"Erik, Erik please..." She whispered with a rasping voice and hazed eyes, not at all surprised to find him beside her.
It confused him, but he accepted it as her believing she was hallucinating.
"Erik, where is our child?" She whispered, clutching his shirt.
"Our... I... Christine..." Erik began, not knowing what to say.
"Please Erik, I fear for her, see if she is alright, please check if our daughter is alright..." Said the babbling and distressed, young woman before him.
"I cannot do that right now, I have to stay here to make sure your medicine works." Erik said trying to keep himself calm and collected.
"Where are the children? Where is..." She was loosing curiousness again and he thanked the gypsies once again for teaching him the art of medicine. She needed to rest, or she wasn't going to make it through the night.
"Promise me you will check on her," She said, "Erik, Promise me!" her muscles beginning to spasm in pain.
"I promise..." He said, hoping this will calm her so she could relax and let the drug take over.
"Sing to me Angel, please sing to me, sing me to sleep so I can sleep with the angels, till sova, till sova med det ängel av musik…" She said trying to stop herself from tossing back and forth...
Erik began to softly sing her a wordless melody... almost instantly when he begun, her body, racked with pain, relaxed and her short, rapid breath began to follow a pattern. Within minutes, she was asleep.
He had gotten up to exit through the balcony door, when he felt someone staring at his back; it was a sixth sense he could not shake and hated more than anything. For anyone to stare at him was a great offence and most paid dearly.
He never suspected when he turned around, to see Michelle there, with her cheeks stained by tears.
"Here is your cloak monsieur I took it before, the Vicomte could see." She said holding out his bloodied cloak. Silently he took it and turned to leave once more.
"Monsieur do not tell me after years of service to the Madame, you would break her a promise..." The meek girl said, still in awe by the majestic and luminous aura that his voice held.
"Mlle, surely you would not dare to tell me what I should to do..." Erik said only with a touch of venom, for he knew she was right. He had never once broken a promise to Christine, so why would he now? Even if she did believe the child under this roof was his and wouldn't have asked him if she knew the truth.
"I shall show you the way, rest assured Monsieur, no one will see you, the Master is in his study, and the doctor left a short while ago." Quietly, Michelle tiptoed him to the cradle that had been set up in the guest room of the large manor.
She then left him to watch the child in quiet wonderment. She was very tiny, but he could tell that she was to be the exact replica of Christine herself. Slowly he touched the small child and realized how much danger she was in as well. She had been a month early, and for her tiny exterior, he could tell that tonight was a crucial test for survival for both the female de Chagny's.
Feeling the tears begin to well, he spotted a window on the other side of the room, he quickly slipped out and began to tread his way home before Michelle could open the door and see where he went.
As he returned to his cabin, he slunk to the floor, feeling his legs give out.
She couldn't die, nor could her little one. If they died, he would have no reason to live, and for the first time in his life, he was afraid of dying.
He did not want to die! He wanted to be a better man, in seeing that little girl he knew what he had fully given up. It was the first time he realized that he had not only given up Christine, and a normal life, but the lives together they could create.
And in knowing this knowledge, he felt something else, he knew that that was not the last time he would see that little girl and he had to stay alive for her, even if Christine did die.
Oh but how hard that would be, and how miserable he would be.
So there, on his knees, for the first time since Father Mansart exercised him, Erik began to pray.
To pray for the life of Christine, and the unnamed child she bore.