CHAPTER 9

Christine stirred, as she groggily opened her eyes. She had slept so soundly, so content, that she hadn't noticed Erik had left. A rose lay beside her along with a note. She brought the delicate beauty up to her nose and took in the sweet scent of its bloom. Carefully, she opened the letter to read its contents.

Mon Ange,

I returned to my home to assess the damage and to clean myself up. My apologies for having you sleep next to a man that was less than satisfactory in groomed appearance. I did not want to wake you, as you undoubtedly needed rest. I shall return soon.

Yours,
Erik

Christine hadn't minded his scent throughout the night, but she knew very well how her Angel took pride in always looking his best. She noticed he had substituted his white mask for the black one. She hoped that one day he wouldn't feel the need to wear a mask, at least not around her. A smile came across her face at the thought. She let out a yawn and stretched, like a cat that had napped the day away.

She picked herself up and straightened the wrinkles out of her dress as best she could. "This was lovely at one point." She looked upon her gown. Erik had forced her to wear the wedding dress upon arriving to his lair in such haste. She had hardly noticed the intricate weavings of lace and the opalescent sequins that were scattered about so strategically. The golden accents highlighting the ensemble finished the masterpiece. "So like Erik to have picked out something so simple, yet so complex in perfection," she sighed. It was a shame to see it as it was now.

Her stomach grumbled. Christine then realized she hadn't had anything to eat since the day before the now infamous Don Juan production. She looked around the little room and found herself at the crates along the wall. Poking around a few, all she found were a few medical supplies, more blankets, empty sheets of music paper, inks, candles, quills, and, "Ah some crackers!" She smiled.

She brought the box to the table and sat herself down. Saying a quick prayer, she crossed herself and nimbly worked at the container. She took one out and snapped it in half. Frowning before placing it in her mouth, she thought, "Stale… oh well, it will have to do." She rubbed her stomach trying to calm it, as she chewed.

"Would you like some tea, Christine?" Erik smiled as he looked upon her scrunching face.

Startled and almost choking on the dry bits of cracker, unmoving down her throat, she could only nod in compliance.

He reached for her hand and kissed it as he pulled her up from her seated position. "Come, mon amour. Madame Giry wishes to hold court with us."

Christine placed a hand at his shoulder. Clearing her throat as best she could, she mumbled, "Madame Giry?"

"It's quite a long story, mon ange. I shall tell you of it soon." Erik lifted a hand under her chin and she smiled. Turning again to the direction of his home, he led her down the passage, her dainty hand held within his.

Christine wondered why on earth Madame Giry was here and what part she played in Erik's life. As the light at the other end began to grow, she found herself on edge with anticipation. Walking into her Angel's home, she was startled. She had expected to see it in ruin, but surprisingly there was little damage, and she noticed it seemed to have been picked up a bit too. The strange foreigner that appeared at the opposite end of the room had come as a shock, and she gasped suddenly. She expected Madame Giry, but wasn't prepared for this odd, dark skinned man in strange dress.

"My apologies, mon ange. The Daroga has that effect on women," Erik snickered.

Nadir shot a dirty look at Erik as he approached Christine holding out his hand.

Hesitantly she offered her hand to him.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mademoiselle Daae," Nadir bent forward to kiss her hand.

"Monsieur," Christine nodded.

"Nadir. You may call me Nadir, Mademoiselle. Unlike my friend here, who insists on reminding me of my title of Daroga."

Erik clenched his fists at Nadir's remark.

"Then please, call me Christine." She quickly countered, sensing the tension, although she found it more like some strange kind of friendly bantering. She giggled slightly inside.

"Christine, come have some tea. I've warmed some rolls as well. You need to eat child." Madame Giry gestured to the setting she had placed on top of the table.

Christine ran to her and embraced her, ignoring her stomachs pleas at that moment. Madame Giry was like a mother to her. "Where is Meg? Is she alright?" Christine asked, fearing the worst.

"Her curiosity had gotten the better of her and she had a run in with that terrible mob. She acquired an injury to her head at the hands of that ruthless crowd, but le Vicomte was able to get her to a hospital to have it taken care of. She comes home tomorrow morning." Madame Giry motioned at one of the chairs for Christine to sit in.

"Erik, Nadir, please come join us." Madame Giry glanced at the two men in the corner eyeballing each other.

Madame Giry's words filtered inside of Christine's mind and she took a sip of her tea. "Raoul had come back? He took care of Meg? What of the mob and why was there no eagerness to flee from their wrath? Would they not come back in search of my Angel?" Her mind drifted back to Raoul. "Why on earth would Raoul return?" She was sure that he had fled the opera house after they had said their goodbyes. "What possessed him to return?" As she weighed the questions in her mind, she concluded that, no matter the reason, she was glad that he had returned, for Meg's sake. "I'll have to thank him someday." She whispered to herself.

Author's Note
Thanks to my regular readers! I've been inspired enough to keep going. I cannot express enough how much I appreciate all your kind words. I'm humbled. Thank you all! Special hugs to my newest reader PhantomLover05! Enjoy! -hug-