Title: This is the Choice
Rating: T
Summary: Christine makes her choice. EC, ALW with Leroux hints.
A/N: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed! Makes my day. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with The Phantom of the Opera except the 2004 DVD, the 1987 soundtrack, and a rather unhealthy fixation on Gerard Butler/Erik. I am in no way profiting in this beyond the good feeling I get from giving Erik a happy ending. That said, on with the fic!
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Standing on the deck of a ship a few days later, not one tiny cloud of doubt overshadowed Raoul's brilliant plan to rescue Christine. He knew that her Angel had used her, had manipulated her, had threatened her, all to make her his, and Raoul would be the one to save her! He was going to Canada, now, and though it was a big place, he would find her, find her and bring her back to France with him. She would be his yet.
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The next day, he wasn't so sure. While he had had plans to be in the Navy in his youth- or rather, while Philippe had had plans for him to be in the Navy in his youth- at the moment, he was seasick. Desperately so, in fact. He would have regretted setting foot on the ship if it weren't for Christine's awful plight. As it was, he held on to anything he could when he had to walk, but stayed in his room with his eyes and mouth squeezed tightly shut for the most part. He only left when necessary, such as to get food.
It was on one of these occasional forays for sustenance that he happened to bump into one of the other passengers on his way. Immediatly the man turned back to Raoul, eyes flashing.
"Watch where you're going, pretty boy!" It was all Raoul could do just to stare back at him and move his mouth open and closed, without a sound. Suddenly, he felt the need to vomit, and ran toward the side of the boat.
"Don't run from me!" Next thing he knew, Raoul found himself being hoisted up from where he had been hunched over the railing and spun around. The man leaned in closer. "You gonna apologise to me, pretty boy?" As Raoul didn't answer, he tightened his hold on Raoul's shirt. "Over you go then!" With that, he pushed the much lighter Vicomte hard enough to send him crashing into the railing.
What he wasn't counting on was for Raoul's balance to be so off that he fell overboard...
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The next things Raoul saw were the concerned faces of the ship's captain and another man leaning over him.
"Monsieur! You are awake! I must sincerely apologise for the behaviour of M. Lacroix, he has been arrested for his conduct towards you."
"Where am I?"
"We are in the office of Doctor Carey, Monsieur, in Halifax. He has been taking care of you since we landed, you have been asleep since the incident."
"I suggest strongly that you stay in bed, Monsieur, you have a very high fever, and a slight case of hypothermia," the doctor broke in. Raoul nodded in answer, already planning a way to get out.
"Of course." He feigned a yawn."If you do not mind, gentlemen, I am feeling rather tired." Both men nodded and left Raoul alone to his plotting.
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"You wanted to see me, Philippe?"
The Comte de Chagny eyed his companion from across the desk.
"Of course I wished to see you. We have not met for a long time, have we, James?"
"No. But I suspect that this is not the reason you asked me to come here. Raoul is not here." It was a statement, not a question. James Rémy knew what had happened at the Opera house. He knew about Raoul's mental situation. He knew that Raoul would have gone chasing after the Opera wench.
"True. My brother has decided to run after Miss Daaé."
"You need me to find him for you."
The Comte inclined his head. "As usual, a step ahead of me. Yes, I wish for you to find my brother, and bring him back, no matter what. You will be rewarded handsomely for this, my friend."
"So be it. I will look for him." He turned to go.
"One more thing, James."
"Yes?" He turned back to Philippe.
"You will keep this a secret. Raoul has caused the family name enough pain as it is. Nobody knows that he has run off, and nobody needs to know."
"As you wish, Philippe," James replied. Bowing slightly, he turned and swept out of the room, his cloak swirling behind him. As he exited the mansion, he noticed with pleasure that most of the servants whose paths he crossed ran and hid from him. Nothing like scaring the servants, he thought to himself.
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"Aye, I seen the likes of a man like 'im th'other day, mess'r." James, the good actor that he was, kept the condescending smile plastered on his face as he spoke with the drunk dockhand. "In fact, 'e came t' ask me 'bout Mess'r Khan and 'is friends, who came by a few days b'fore tha'."
Nothing like being able to speak properly, thought James. Aloud, he said, "I would be much obliged if you would tell me where he was headed."
"Well, 'e seemed right int'rested in Mess'r Khan and 'is companions. Headed o'er to Canada, I'm thinkin', and the main port o'er there is 'Alifax. Tha' might be where your man's goin', Mess'r."
"Thank you."
James had spent the greater part of the past few days asking around for news of Raoul or Christine. He had now seen several people who had seen both, and had been told each time that Christine and the men she was with had been talking about Montréal, while Raoul only asked about Christine and headed off after her. The boy was determined. Foolish, yes, but determined: he had to give him that.
Now to send word to Philippe, and off to Canada to find the boy.
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Even with everything he'd been through in the past year- Christine seeing him, being on stage, Christine coming back to him, appearing at the Bal Masque to demand his Don Juan be performed- nothing could compare to the nervousness Erik was feeling as Nadir brought him toward the small chapel. Christine was already there; Erik had insisted that it be as close to a traditional wedding as possible, knowing that that was what she had always wanted.
So there he was, practically being dragged into the chapel by Nadir. He had not been allowed to see Christine since yesterday morning, when she had left to get a dress with one of the women from the Opéra Royale that Nadir had made friends with. That alone was wearing on his nerves; he hated not being able to see her. Add that to the fact that he knew what was supposed to come that night, and he was barely able to hear what Nadir was telling him. The thoughts running through his head were of the variety he'd come to be accustomed to. No woman could ever want him; Christine might have chosen him, but that didn't mean she would honestly want anything to do with him...
"Erik! Listen to me, man, or this will never be done!" Nadir's exasperated voice broke through Erik's thoughts as the two of them sat at the front of the church, waiting for the priest.
"Nadir, what am I doing?" Erik asked helplessly.
"Marrying Christine."
"I know that. I mean, what am I doing? Me, Nadir. Getting married. What the hell am I doing?"
Nadir recognised the panic in Erik's voice, and for once, he thought he knew exactly what his friend was thinking.
"Erik. First of all, she chose you. She knew exactly what she was getting into when she chose you. And, while I have only known her a little while, I can say with certainty that she would not have chosen you if her heart lay with the Vicomte. She is not stupid, nor would she play a game like that."
"But..." Erik gestured helplessly at his face. "Do not tell me you do not know what is expected on a wedding night, Nadir." It was the first time Erik had ever mentioned anything that personal to him before, and the Persian was quite taken aback. "I have no idea what I am doing. I have never touched a woman before, except for her, in Don Juan, and that was pure acting, nothing like this. I repulse her, Nadir. I saw it in her eyes when she first saw me, she was terrified."
"If that is the time when you knocked her to the ground, I would say that it was not your face she was terrified of. You are no kitten when something gets you angry, and you are always angry when you are hurt. Do not tell me," he said, mocking Erik's earlier words, "that you have not seen it in her eyes, nor heard it when she speaks of you. She cares for you, my friend. You would do well to remember it. "
"Monsieur Khan. I have not seen you in these parts for some time." Both men turned to see Father Thomas, the priest who was to perform Erik and Christine's wedding ceremony, walking smoothly toward them. Nadir bowed.
"Unfortunately I have not had a lot of time, Father, but I aim to stay for a longer time for the present."
"Because of your friends, Monsieur Leroux and his bride to be, yes?" Erik felt slightly unnerved by the priest's calm gaze. He gave off the impression that nothing could ever could ever upset him.
"That is correct. I hope to be seeing you more often, Father, now that I will be in the area permanently."
"That would be wonderful," Father Thomas replied, bowing to Nadir. "At the present time, however, I wish to speak to Monsieur Leroux privately before the ceremony starts."
Erik, in his current state, barely kept his mouth from dropping open briefly, saying instead, "Of course," and following Father Thomas out into a smaller room.
"You are not a religious man." Father Thomas' blunt statement surprised Erik.
"Not particularly, no."
"Yet you are in a church."
"It is mostly for Christine. I mean no offense, Father, but God has never been a large part of my life."
"To each his own." Father Thomas looked right into Erik's eyes, something that people generally did not do. "I know that you have not had an easy life, Monsieur. It can only get better, with Christine in your life."
Silence. Father Thomas sat down in one of the chairs against the wall.
"I know you must be feeling apprehensive about the whole affair."
"Exactly how much about me has Nadir told you, Father?" Erik didn't really want to know, but at the same time, it was driving him crazy.
"That you have had a hard life; that God has not been a sanctuary for you as He should be. That Christine is your Angel, and your saviour. I said you were not a religious man, monsieur; that may be true. It may surprise you to know that I had little faith myself, not even ten years ago. Let me assure you, monsieur, that peace is the greatest gift that a man can earn. I am certain that you will find it with Christine, with the Earth, and hardest of all, yourself."
By now, Erik was truly surprised. Never before had anyone ever spoken to him like this before, like they were truly unafraid; not Nadir, not even Christine...though that had changed for the better in the past two months. He did not have a chance to answer however, because Father Thomas stood and made his way to the door.
"The ceremony will be starting soon. I am sure that Nadir is quite ready to kill me if I do not let him have his last words with you."
And with that he was gone. Erik stood, shaking his head in disbelief, now with even more thoughts crowding his head as he followed the priest. As the man had said, Nadir was practically twitching with last minute instructions.
"You just follow what Thomas tells you, Erik."
"Yes, Nadir."
"And don't be nervous. Remember what I told you earlier."
"Yes, Nadir." Erik was beginning to get annoyed.
"I'm willing to bet that Thomas talked to you as well. He knows what he's talking about-"
"Yes, Nadir, now be quiet before you get me angry!"
Nadir shut his mouth.
"Thank you."
For both Erik and Christine, most of the service was a blur. Father Thomas talked to everyone present- them, Nadir, a woman Nadir had met at the Opéra Royale, and the men who worked in the church with Father Thomas. The only part that really stood out in the blur of words, sounds and faces were their vows.
"Erik, repeat after me," Father Thomas instructed in his calm, level voice, completely the opposite of what Erik was feeling. "'I Erik, take you Christine, to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish 'till death do us part. And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness.'"
Erik repeated the vow. He could have sworn he heard his voice almost break numerous times as he looked into his beloved's eyes; he felt as though he were baring his soul for her to take.
"Christine. 'I, Christine, take you Erik, to be my wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'till death do us part. And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness.'"
Christine repeated her vows, all the while never taking her eyes from Erik's. Father Thomas added a few more words, which neither of them could make out, lost in each other's eyes. The only thing that made Erik concious enough to pay attention was when Father Thomas, at long last, said, "Erik, you may kiss your bride."
Slowly, still almost convinced that Christine would pull away or run from him, he reached up with one hand to cup her cheek. He leaned down slowly, brushing his lips gently against hers, almost pulling away himself in shock as she responded, pushing herself a little closer to him. They broke apart after what seemed both an eternity and a second, and looked again into each other's eyes, once again not noticing as Father Thomas finished the ceremony. Erik broke the gaze briefly to glance at Nadir, who was grinning like a fool. Erik allowed himself a small grin, looking down to see a similar expression on Christine's face. A brief inspection of the room yielded the information that most of the clergy was gone, except one man who was extinguishing candles. Nadir finally came over.
"Well, my friends, you've done it."
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A/N: Wow. That was interesting to write. Also took a LOT longer than I thought it would. It's longer than I thought it would end up, as well. I have come to the brilliant conclusion that I write the E/C scenes a lot better than anything to do with Raoul xD wonder why that is. Oh well, there'll be enough time for Raoul later. As always, reviews are good :) And I have the whole story planned out, I'm working on embellishment now...updates should be coming faster, unless school gets in the way. Thanks for reading!