here's a nice loooooooooong chappie for you. i apologize in advance for the christine's lack of backbone in this chapter, but she is wearing the infamous corset! and if you hate raoul, read on!
oh, and everyone's favorite soldier duo is in this chappie so be happy and review!
disclaimer: i own nothing!
Chapter Eight
The Governor's Mansion loomed over the small town of Port Royal like a tree in a desert. It was a beautiful building, grand in its opulence and quaint in its simplicity. But it was cold, made of grey stone. The orderliness of it made it seem vacant, like it wasn't home.
The iron gates clanged shut behind Christine and Will, sending a shudder down her spine. The sound made her feel like she had entered a prison.
They made their way up the drive, which was a considerable distance, to the dark mahogany wooden door. Christine loved this door. Its subtle beauty and delicate carvings emitted a feeling of warmth. She didn't dare touch it for it was too beautiful a door that Christine didn't want to take the chance of ruining it.
Will alerted the household of their presence by banging the brass doorknocker. A hawkfaced, overdressed butler opened the door to them. He looked down at them through his beak of a nose, the faint presence of a sneer on his lips. He took in Will first, sneering at the plainness of his suit and lack of wig. Next, he surveyed Christine, looking her up and down. His eyes seemed to linger upon her low neckline, her small breasts that her emphasized by her tight corset.
Will noticed his gaze and coughed loudly, wanting the man to take his eyes off his cousin before she attacked him. And because he had no right to stare at her that way.
"Sir, I am here to see the Governor," he said curtly.
The butler narrowed his eyes at Will and replied, "May I have a name?"
"Christine Daae and William Brown."
"Very well, wait here," the butler said, turning and heading up the long, curved stairway.
Christine stepped into the mansion, Will following her and closing the door. She had never been in it before. If she could actually breathe, she would have gone breathless at the sight of the simple grandeur. She could never imagine living here, but would enjoy exploring all the nooks and exotic objects in the mansion.
Will took in the look of wonder on Christine's face and emitted a faint sigh of relief. He was happy she was feeling better after what happened with Angel. She had been so sad, so broken after the monster hit her. He remembered the murderous anger that sprang in his chest as he had held Christine, her salty tears soaking his shirt.
Will found himself wishing that Christine wasn't so beautiful. While she was praised for it and could easily find a husband, it seemed to get her into trouble all the time. Due to her dark beauty, men like Angel harassed her and men like that insufferable butler leered at her obscenely. She'd be much better off if she would run away and join a pirate ship.
"Ah, Mr. Brown, you're here," Governor Swann said, looking far too overdressed for a man. Christine bit on her tongue to keep from laughing. He sauntered down the stair with the air of a king. Oddly, he walk reminded her of Angel.
"And Miss Daae," he said grinning at her as reached them. He took her hand and kissed it. "You're looking lovely, as usual."
Christine couldn't help but giggle at his compliment. For all his pompous airs, the Governor was a kind gentleman that one could not help but adore. His dotty ways and sometimes flustered moments made him all the more endearing.
"Thank you, M'lord," Christine said with a smile.
Will presented the sword to the Governor, how was extremely satisfied with it. He mistaked it for being one of Uncle James's creations and Christine was about to contradict him when Will simply replied that "A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated."
At that moment, Carlotta decided to appear.
She dramatically stepped onto the landing, dressed in a fancy beige dress decorated with wine red roses and green ivy patterning. The skirts were rather full, making her hips look far too large for her body. Her vivid orange-red curls were piled atop her head, covered by a flat hat. She was beautiful, that Christine could not deny, but she hid her beauty behind ostentatious amounts of makeup and jewels. Her icy blue eyes met Christine's sienna one's for a moment before settling on Will.
"Oh Will," she simpered, gracefully prancing down the stairs. "It's so wonderful to see you. I had a dream about you last night!"
Christine rolled her eyes, Carlotta's overly sweet and eager voice grating on her ears. She glanced at Will who was struggling to conceal his annoyance in Carlotta's flirtations. Christine knew he could not stand the girl as he hated her for teasing Christine.
"About me, Miss Swann?"
"Yes, about the day we met." She was far too close to him, Christine noted with annoyance. He hates you, you bloody harpy! Leave him be. Meg deserves him more than you!
"How could I forget Miss Swann?" Will remembered all too perfectly the day he met Carlotta. He had been a lad of twelve and Christine had just come from England, a tiny, scared child. He and his mother met her there, along with the new Governor and his daughter, Carlotta. She had been a vicious brat back then, asking if Christine was their new servant and upon learning that she was not, demanded that she leave, that she did not want a bastard on the same island as her.
Carlotta earned the hate of many that day.
"Please call me Carlotta."
"Of course, Miss Swann."
That got her goose, Christine thought happily.
The four of them, headed for the Governor's carriage which had been brought to the front. Carlotta tried to claim Will's arm, but Christine beat her to it.
They entered the carriage and headed to the fort.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
All in all, the ceremony was very boring. It was just a group of over dressed men and women wear far too much makeup. Christine hardly paid attention, as her breathing became more difficult under the sun. Will allowed her to cling to his arm for much needed support as the world around Christine seemed to spin. She fanned herself profusely, desperate to alleviate the inferno that was roaring in her head.
Screwing up her concentration, Christine saw Raoul take out the sword, lifting it high above his head. Admiral Philippe de Changy handed his brother a silver medallion; apparently it proclaimed him a Commodore.
And that was the end of the ceremony.
And just why did we come to this? Christine wondered. Then she heard the strains of string music, boringly proper music that rich people like to have at parties. Apparently there was now to be a party. Great.
"Will, can we go now?" she whispered to her cousin.
Will looked down on her with pity in his gaze. He knew she hated being here, that her corset was hurting her, that she desperately needed to lie down. He also knew that it would be very rude and possibly bad for the family if they left so abruptly.
Christine thrust out her lower lip in a pout to win him over. It always worked and this time was no exception. He nodded to her and took her hand, guiding her away from the party.
Unfortunately, they were met by the new Commodore, Carlotta on his arm.
"Miss Daae, might I have a moment?"
Oh no, please Carlotta, make a scene, make him pay attention to you! Christine thought frantically. Her prayers were answered, sort of.
"Why Raoul, darling, why on earth would you want to see a common girl like this alone for," she simpered, ignoring Will's look of rage. "After all, we shall be married before too long. Seeing as we are the only two young people of noble birth, it is only natural we should be made one in a church of God."
Christine silently thanked God for Carlotta's overblown ego.
"I'm afraid Miss Swann that I shall make my own decisions for my own reasons," Raoul said sharply. "Now Miss Daae, if you would come along."
He took Christine's arm, attempting to lead her away. Christine was too dizzy to react, but Will thankfully came to her rescue.
"Actually, Commodore, my cousin isn't feeling too well. I think it is best I take her home."
Raoul turned an icy glare towards Will, saying angrily, "Mr. Brown, when I make a request, it is to be followed. Right now, I am requesting that Miss Daae come with me and she shall, regardless of her health." That being said, Raoul steered Christine away to the edge of the fort, overlooking the wide ocean.
Will watched them go regretfully. He knew that Raoul would have gotten a well aimed blow to his mouth if Christine hadn't been wearing a damn corset. The difficulty she had breathing was seriously eroding her consciousness, making her vulnerable to whatever that blasted Commodore had in mind.
Christine was vaguely aware of Raoul leading her to the edge of the fort. That view was very lovely. Raoul was saying something about his position and that he was lacking something. She couldn't exactly make out what specifically he was saying. She did catch one thing however, "You have become a fine woman, Miss Daae. I would be honored to have as my wife."
Christine couldn't stand it anymore. The ringing in her head became too much. "Can't breathe," she muttered.
Everything went black after that.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Erik made his way down to the docks, to survey his lovely new ship. The Interceptor was a fine ship indeed, but it could never compete with the greatest love of Erik's life, The Black Pearl.
He had heard about the event at the fort and assumed that there would be no soldiers guarding the docks. He was very put out when he found two there.
They were casually sitting on barrels, only to spring up when they became aware of Erik's presence.
"This dock is off limits to civilians," the small one said.
"I'm terribly sorry. If I see one I shall let you know," Erik said, wishing he could just gut these two and be off. An idea sprang to mind. He got the two into banter, sparked by Erik's tale of his beloved ship. It was easy enough. The pair of soldiers soon became unaware of anything but each other, determined to prove the other wrong.
Erik grinned and boarded the ship. He sauntered up to the helm, revealing in the feel of it in his hands. This was power, this was freedom. Erik had missed this, the exhilaration of being in control of something so mighty that it defied the water. The only thing he needed to complete this was his maenad. He fell into a daydream, one where it was just he and Christine, alone on a ship at night. She wasn't wearing much, pale legs exposed and wrapped around his waist. Yes, she was a very enthusiastic maenad.
"Hey, you! Get away from there!"
Damn, the two soldiers were back. These two were really starting to annoy him, probably because they reminded Erik far too much of Andre and Firmin.
"Get away from there," the small one said.
"You don't have permission to be aboard there!" said the stout one.
Erik made the visible part of his face as sincere as he could manage and said, "I'm sorry but it's such a pretty boat." He noticed the soldier's scowls and quickly corrected himself, "ship."
"Who are you?" the stout one asked.
"Smith, or Smithy if you like." Erik had a feeling he knew where this was going.
"What's you're purpose in Port Royal, Mr. Smith?" the stout one said, saying his name that clearly told Erik the man didn't believe him. Well, perhaps these Redcoats really did have some brains after all.
"And no lies," said the small one.
Erik grinned. If they wanted no lies, no lies they would get. "I confess, it is my intention to commandeer this ship, kidnap a young girl, turn her pirate and make her submit to my will, pick up a crew in Tortuga , raid, pillage, plunder and otherwise pilfer my weasely black guts out!" Erik grinned smarmily, just for the effect.
The small one looked perplexed. "I said no lies!"
"I think he was telling the truth."
"If he was telling the truth, he wouldn't have told us."
Erik fought the urge to laugh as he said, "Unless he knew you wouldn't believe the truth even if he told you!"
The Redcoats just stared at him.
"Why do you wear a mask?" the stout one asked.
Erik felt his jovial mood darken. Even Christine hadn't asked him that. In fact, the last person who had was so displeased with the answer that she fell to her death. Erik winced, he hated thinking of Luciana.
"What's your name, soldier?" Erik said, allowing the black menace that clouded his soul to creep into his voice.
"Mullroy. And this here is Murtogg," Mullroy said, gesturing to his smaller companion.
Erik walked up to the duo, both men drawing back slightly, and put his arm around Mullroy. "Mullroy, my boy, have you ever heard the tale of the pirate James Cooker?"
"Mullroy seemed very unnerved by his nearness for there was a definite tremor in his answer. "No, I don't recall that I have."
"Well, gentlemen, I'll just have to enlighten you."
Erik walked over to rail of the ship and sat down on it. "Might as well make yourselves comfortable, boys, for it's a hell of a tale."
Mullroy and Murtogg, sat across from him on crates, their eager faces making them look like little children at Christmas time. Just how these to got be part of the British army was beyond him.
"Well, James Cooker was a curious being ever since he was a wee lad. He just had to know everything. One day, when he was a man, he came across a chest, plain in appearance, but upon it was a carved message: "he who opens this chest will meet his doom". Well, old James curiosity was deeply aroused by that message. Ignoring the warnings, he opened the chest wishing to see what was so terrible. He regretted his actions a second later, and a second too late. For in that box was a swarm of African bees, deadly little buggers. The swarm fell upon James Cooker and that was the last of him."
Erik smirked at the men, hoping his message would sink in. Unfortunately, they just looked disappointed.
"That's it?" Murtogg said, incredulous. "That's your hell of a tale?"
"Aye," Erik said.
"You made that up!" Mullroy accused.
Erik smirked again and leaned forward, hands on his thighs. "Quite possibly, but I hope you got the moral of my story," he said darkly, a hint of a threat in his voice.
Unfortunately for Mullroy, a loud splash interrupted his before his could retort back.
Erik turned in time to see a flash of blue fall into the water. He heard a call for "Christine" from the fort above, issuing from a finely attired young man. He was gazing down at the spot where the woman fell.
"That's the Commodore de Changy," Mullroy said, pointing at the young man.
Erik felt his blood go cold. From what he had gathered, listening to the men in the tavern, this was the newly promoted, former Captain de Changy, the man who had been pursuing Christine.
It was Christine who fell into the water, and it didn't look like she was surfacing anytime soon. Panic gripped Erik at the thought of her dying. Furiously, he tore of his coat, hat, belt and bag, handing them to Murtogg with an order not to lose them. Without further ado, he dived into the warm sea water.
He swam harder than he ever had before, worry for Christine driving him on. Where was she? He circled the spot where he thought she had fallen, but didn't see her.
Suddenly, Erik felt a powerful tremor go through the water. What the bleeding hell was that?
There she is! Erik spied Christine, lying unconscious on the sea floor, her blue dress pooling around her. He quickly scooped her up, propelling them to the surface as fast as he could. When they broke surface however, he was pulled down again. Erik discovered it was the weight of her dress and ripped it from her without further thought.
The swim back was easier now that Christine was divested of her dress. Mullroy and Murtogg helped him get her onto the deck, but to their displeasure, she was still not breathing.
Erik saw that she was wearing a corset and, pushing the soldiers out of his way, cut it open with a knife and ripped it from her.
Christine came back to life, gasping for breath.
Erik let out a relieved sigh, and quickly tore his eyes from her. Her soaking under clothes left very little to the imagination.
"I never would have thought of that," Mullroy said with awe.
"Clearly you've never been to Singapore."
A faint cough brought his attention back to the petit girl lying between his legs. Christine was slowly regaining her awareness, of where she was and who with.
"Angel?" she said, voice soft and weak. Her lovely face was staring up at him with a mix of fear and confusion upon it. He saw, with a bit of guilt, a dark ugly bruise upon her cheek, remnants of makeup trailing from it. She must have covered it up before she went to meet that boy, that one he had thought she hated.
A flash of gold caught his attention and he tore his eyes away from Christine's face, to see what he never thought he'd see again.
Christine watched Angel warily, still feeling too weak to stand, protest his position on her or do anything. She watched his hand as it picked up her medallion, a look of fear and disbelief in his eyes.
"Where did you get this?" he said, voice shocked.
Before she could answer him, the sound of heavy footsteps reached her ears. She turned her head to see Raoul, Will and a small group of soldiers approach them.
Raoul took out his sword and aimed it at Angel's throat
"On you feet!" he said with an air of menace.
Erik stepped away from Christine, her cousin immediately coming to her aid, picking her up and wrapping her in his coat.
"Christine, are you alright?" he inquired.
"Yes, I'm fine," she said breathlessly, leaning into Will's embrace and keeping her eyes trained away from Angel. His wet, appealing form and tangled wet hair made her grow very hot in the cheeks, and elsewhere.
Will looked at the wet man and recognized him as Angel, the bastard who dared strike his cousin.
"Shoot him," he said to the Commodore.
Christine panicked when she heard Will's command. As much as a bastard Angel was, she would not have a man die because of her. The last time it happened it nearly destroyed her.
"Commodore," she cried, halting Raoul from carrying out Will's request. He looked at her funny, as she had emitted a foul curse word. "Do you really intend to kill my rescuer?" she inquired, raising her brow. She was quite aware of Angel's eyes on her, and inwardly cursed for using the word rescuer. Even Will couldn't believe she said it.
What's that girl trying to do? Erik wondered. He glanced back to the Commodore, studying his face. Behind the anger, he was a handsome young fellow, possessing winter blue eyes and fine blond hair. A total fop, in Erik's opinion.
"I believe thanks are in order?" he said, reaching out to shake Erik's hand. Erik caustiouusly reached out to accept, but the Commodore turned the tables on him and grasped his wrist. The Commodore pulled up Erik's sleeve and exposed his pirate brand to the gaze of all onlookers, including Christine.
"Had a brush with the East India Trading company, did we, pirate?"
Erik winced, feeling Christine's incredulous stare and her cousin's hatful glare upon him. The Commodore pulled up the sleeve further, exposing his skull tattoo. "Well well, Erik Destler."
"Captain Erik Destler, if you please."
"Well, I don't see your ship…Captain," the Commodore said gloatingly. To his men, he yelled, "Gillette fetch some irons. Keep your guns on him men." Back to Erik, he said, "You, my friend, have a dawn appointment with the gallows."
Erik merely narrowed his eyes at the fop.
Christine stared at Angel, rather Erik. She couldn't believe it! He was a pirate, the bloodthirsty Erik Destler no less! Christine felt an emotion she could only assume was disillusionment. Erik was a pirate, he had lied to her, intended on kidnapping her most likely and, wait a minute! Her gaze found his tattoo and she recalled the story Piangi had told her. Erik was the Phantom of the Caribbean! The very man she had had fantasies about but never dreamed she would actually meet was standing right before her. It was too surreal for Christine to even begin to comprehend.
She saw a soldier hand Raoul Erik's "affects" and Erik himself being led to Gillette and his waiting irons. She could not let Erik die!
Removing herself from Will's arms, she followed Raoul and Erik, angrily saying, "Commodore, I really must protest." She stood between Raoul and Gillette who was shackling Erik. "Pirate or not this man saved my life."
Erik could hardly believe what he was hearing. The same girl he had given every reason to hate him was desperately trying to save his life!
"One good deed does not redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness," the fop said, standing much to close to Christine.
"Though it seems enough to condemn him," Erik put in.
"Indeed," the fop said, glaring.
The ponce who was shackling Erik finally moved away. Seeing his chance, Erik swiftly threw the chain of his irons around Christine's slender neck, pulling her against him. "Sorry love," he whispered in her ear, so faintly that only she could hear. He saw the band of soldiers aim their guns at him, only to be stop by Will's cry of "Don't shoot." Erik felt sorry for the boy. He was obviously outraged at being so helpless to defend his cousin. Bully for him.
"I knew you'd warm up to me," Erik said leering.
Christine was frightened. She still felt weak from her fall and near drowning, and now her very life was in the hands of a dangerous pirate she had once trusted. She cursed herself for being so helpless, wishing for some sort of weapon she could use against Erik. Christine gasped as she felt Erik pull harder on the chain, pulling her harder against him. She coughed from the cold metal biting into her throat.
"Now, Commodore, if you would be so kind and hand this young lady my effects. And my hat!"
Christine felt the chain slacken a bit, allowing her to step a bit forward to receive Erik's possessions. The instant they were in her hands, Erik pulled her back against him and spun her around to face him. Christine felt the cold metal of his gun, pressing firmly into her temple. Christine gasped in fear, for she hadn't even known he had taken the gun from her.
Erik mentally cursed himself for frightening her so. But there was another emotion clearly advertised on her face: disgust. Erik used that sentiment to harden himself against her.
"Now, love, if you'd be so kind." When she did not respond, Erik pressed his pistol harder into her head. She did not even wince. "Come, come, dear. We don't have all day."
Erik felt her little hands, placing his hat upon his head, strapping on his bag and redoing his belt. Erik took advantage of her closeness, drawing her nearer to him. The look of possessive anger on the fop of a Commodore face's was very amusing. Her hand accidentally brushed a bit roughly against his pelvic area as she did up his belt. He smirked at her saying, "Easy on the goods, love."
Christine looked at him with as much revulsion and disgust as she could. How dare this man amuse her trust and use her to his benefit. Meeting him straight in the eyes, she whispered harshly to him, "You're despicable, and I'm not your love!"
Odd to Erik, but Christine's words hurt him deeply. Despite his plans to take her under any circumstances, Erik longed for her acceptance. However, he didn't let his demeanor betray his hurt. Sneering at her, he got right into her face, hissing "Sticks and stones, love. I saved your life, you save mine, we're square."
Erik turned her around to face the men, keeping his gun train to her head. "Gentlemen, m'lady, (he whispered this right in her ear, most sensuously) you will always remember this as the day that you almost caught Captain Erik Destler!"
With that, he swiftly released the chain from Christine's neck and sent her crashing into the arms of her cousin and the fop. He spared her no final glance, making his escape summarily.
Christine felt Will's safe arms envelope her once more, bringing warmth back to her that had been stolen by Erik's callous actions. She heard Will demanding they shoot Erik and before she could protest, Raoul shouted "Open fire!" and all the soldiers followed through.
Christine watched up where their guns were firing and saw Erik swinging on a rope, spinning in circles.
Erik heard the gunfire and looked down, all the bloody Redcoats, aiming directly at him. He spied a long rope, hanging between two poles. Swinging the chain of his shackles about it, Erik slid down the rope, landing perfectly on the ground. He ran through the streets of Port Royal, pursued by the Redcoats.
Erik easily gave them the slip by hiding behind a statue of a blacksmith. They passed him without a second glance, giving Erik the opportunity to slip into the smithy.
It was plain and roughly hewn, straw littering the floor. Hammers and other tools were laid haphazardly on wooden tables. There was a warm fire glowing in the hearth.
A snicker met Erik's ears canny ears.
Erik nearly jumped around, only to be met by the doleful eyes of a donkey.
Bloody thing! Erik turned his attention back to his manacles, and after a embarrassingly failed attempt at hammering them apart, he used the donkey.
Burning it with a heated sword, the donkey took off, making the machinery start up. Placing the chain in between the gears and levers of the machinery, it snapped clean through, giving Erik the freedom of his hands.
Now if he could get them off entirely.
Before he could formulate how to go about that, the door of the smithy opened. Erik ducked behind a rather large crate, praying he would not be spotted. He could just see a pair of people coming in, a girl in wet clothing, wrapped in a jacket and a handsome young man with dark hair. Christine…
What on earth were they doing here?
"What happened here?" Will said, looking at the donkey, which was still running in circles. Christine walked over to him and calmed him down, cooing softly in his ear. Will noticed a hammer lying on an anvil. "That's not where I left you," he said with confusion in his voice. He then noticed a hat lying on the table. It looked rather familiar.
As he reached out to touch it, a cold blade of metal rapped his hand. Will looked up to see the pirate standing there, his sword aimed directly at Will.
Christine gasped when she saw Erik, and quickly picked up a spare sword, ready to defend her cousin with her last breath. Her actions startled Erik, allowing Will to pick up his own sword.
"Christine, get out of here," Will said calmly and coldly, never taking his eyes off Erik.
"No," she said, coming to stand by Will.
"I mean it Christine, get out of here!"
Christine opened her mouth to protest, but was cut off, this time by Erik. "You'd best be doing as you're told, girl." He didn't want her here, not when there was a good chance he could kill her cousin.
"Get the soldiers," Will said to her, as she ran off through a door.
Christine spared the two one last glance, wishing terribly she could stay and help Will. But in her common sense knew that with her weakened state she would only get in the way and the only way she could help was finding the soldiers.
But deep in her heart, Christine had to admit that the real reason she left was she didn't she handle fighting Erik. Even after he brutalized, lied to, threatened her, he still tugged at her heart.
Erik watched his maenad leave with shielded eyes, not letting her beloved cousin see the desire that was quelling within him. At the moment she held her sword aloft at him, Erik felt himself go harder than he ever thought he could. Her eyes her blazing and her still damp hair wild, making her look like a war goddess of old.
Erik mentally shook himself, focusing on the handsome youth standing before him with hating eyes.
"Do you think that's wise, boy?" Will looked at Erik confused. "Crossing blades with a pirate?" Erik continued.
The boy did not back down for which Erik had to, begrudgingly, admire him for. "You hurt and threatened my cousin."
Erik grinned and grated his sword along the boy's blade. "Only a little."
Their swords came together in a silent, yet deadly clash. Soft parries and thrusts, neither man moving save his sword arm. Erik studied the boy. He was good, Erik's pride allowed him to admit.
"You know what you're doing, I'll give you that," Erik said with a trace of pride in his voice. This boy was somewhat growing on him, due to how much he cared and risked for Christine. Erik seriously hoped to get out of here before something happened to the boy, knowing the devastation Christine would feel from it would just about kill her.
And she would most likely kill him in revenge.
"But how's your footwork boy?" Erik stepped to the side, the boy going oppositely. "Very good." He stepped again, and the boy followed so that their was no one blocking Erik's way to the door.
"Ta!" Erik said with a smirk and headed for the door.
Will cursed himself for his stupidity. With a bit of reckless quick thinking, he threw his sword at the door, effectively jamming the lock.
Erik felt the blade whiz past his face. He saw the boy's sword, shuddering in the bar that locked the door. He gripped the handle, effectively stilling it, and pulled it out.
Or at least it should have come out.
To his great displeasure, Erik found he could not remove the damn sword, so firmly was it embedded in its confining wood. Erik started to turn towards the boy, but before he caught him in his sight, there was a rather painful blow to his head, and then there was nothing.
Will watched the pirate fall, unconscious, to the dirty smithy floor. He had heard the soldiers coming with Christine and, wishing to make the pirate easier to arrest, grabbed the nearest thing he could find, a hammer, and threw it at his head.
He saw the red clad soldiers burst into the room, the Commodore de Changy in the lead. Christine followed after them, running straight into Will's arms. She was still wet and shivering, her skin pale as snow and hands like ice. Will held her protectively, wishing for the soldiers to take the pirate and go, letting his cousin get some well needed rest.
Christine had run through the streets with all her might, coming across some soldiers rather quickly. Raoul had been among them. When he saw her there, he wasted precious time rebuking her for parading about in such an unwomanly manner, saying that his future wife should behave more ladylike. Christine's temper had been sparked and she slapped him, shouting that she was not his future wife and would never be his wife.
Raoul's anger had been fierce, saying that she would marry him, not matter what she wanted. He said he would have her carted off to a nunnery if she did not consent. Gillette, giving her a pitying glance, reminded Raoul that she knew where the fugitive was. They hastened to the smithy and found Erik unconscious, Will glaring at his recumbent body.
She sought her cousin's comforting embrace, deliberately looking away from Raoul and Erik.
"I thank you Mr. Brown, you have assisted in the capture of a dangerous fugitive," Raoul said, never taking his eyes off Christine.
"Just doing my civic duty, sir," Will replied, sensing it was not the cold that caused Christine to tremble so.
The soldiers shackled Erik once more, this time his feet as well as his hands, and carted him away. They left the young girl in wet clothes crying on her cousin's shoulder, for she knew full well what fate awaited Erik the following morn.