"Let it be war,

upon you both..."

Chapter Seven

News for a Grasshopper

The sun lay hidden behind the mass of the ominious black clouds. Rain beat against the window in a never ending torent. Inside a fire blazed in brilliant shades of red and orange. A young man sat at a desk across from this fire, his blue eyes boring down into the parchement in front of him. A frown marred his handsome features as he read the words. They were written in a clean if rather hurried hand. It was polite and to the point and the young man breathed a sigh of relief before the letter was through.

Monsieur,

It is had come to my attention that you are searching for a young Mademoiselle Daae. This letter has nothing to do with the money offered, I have no use for such a thing, but it is merely written in the hopes that I might perhaps put your mind to ease and help the mistress as well. Mademoiselle Daae is currently living under the roof of my master, a Monsieur Erik Destler, though I fear it is by no means the mademoiselles wishes. I fear she is being kept here by force and know that you must care for her, if that is so you may find her here. I hope this letter is good news for you, and do not fear, Mademoiselle Daae is well.

There was no name but the address of Monsieur Destler was written. Raoul de Chagny sighed and leaned back in his chair. Finally there was news of Christine! Though it distressed him to find she was being held against her will, he had to thank God for the fact that she was alright! He had feared the worst after she went willingly with that phantom, clearly trying to save his life.

When the mob had finally reached the cellar and untied Raoul there had been no sign of Christine anywhere. He had yet to end his search and had become desperate, offering a large sum of money for any news of her. Thank God he finally had some! Whoever this person was he was dearly thankful to. The thought of Christine in some kind of danger had kept him up more nights then he cared to remember. But who was this Erik Destler? Was it a name the phantom had given himself?

Christine. The thought of her constricted his heart and made a strange feeling enter the pit of his stomach. His little Lotte. He believed he had fallen in love with her that long ago day when he had went after her scarf and saved it from the ocean. When he had become patron of the opera house his surprise at seeing Christine that night at the gala was unexplainable. She had grown from the scrawny little girl to a beautiful young woman, with the voice of an angel.

They had pledged their love for one another on the roof top of the opera and he could not just turn his back on Christine, he loved her to much. They both could have died that night after Don Juan and he would not allow Christine to spend her life with a murdering monster. She was not meant for the darkness, only the pure light. He would get her back.

The address indicated in the letter was one of the wealthier homes in Paris, could that thing that lived beneath the cellars truly have money enough to purchase such a home? Or had he done some vile thing to gain the money? Raoul did not know if he wanted to find out. He called to one of the men standing outside of the door and had the man go and prepare his carriage. He had a visit to pay to this Monsieur Destler, for the man had something he desperately wanted back.

xXx

The rain had stopped for the moment and Christine pushed the hood of her cloak off of her head so she could peer around the garden. The roses held dew drops from the seemingly constant rain and the road and pavement were soaked. Erik had not been anywhere in the manor that day and Anita had said she knew not where her master went. Christine had needed some fresh air and so had come out into the garden.

"Mademoiselle, you may catch a cold out here in this weather," Anita warned. Christine smiled at the maid and continued walking, trailing her hands over the flowers ever so gently. Anita had insisted on coming out here to chaperon Christine and Christine had been unable to refuse.

"It is not that cold, Anita," Christine said. The woman shook her head and followed her mistress as they walked. Christine found her thoughts wandering to Erik, wondering where he was and what he was doing. How was it possible that she could fear him so much and yet become lonely when he was not around. He had always seemed to be there when she was growing up that his absence cut her deep in her heart.

Anita glanced up nervously at the ever darkening clouds. She turned to Christine.

"Mademoiselle, please, we should go inside, it will rain soon," Anita warned.

"A few more moments," Christine replied. Anita sighed and shook her head but followed the young woman none the less.

"This place is so beautiful," Christine murmured, looking up at the towering manor. Anita nodded.

"Yes, the master has exquisite taste," she answered. Christine agreed. Erik had always held an appreciation for beauty, that much she was aware of.

"Mademoiselle...do you hear that?" Anita asked suddenly. But Christine had indeed heard it and she turned her head toward the road, her brow creasing in confusion. It sounded like...horses. But who would come this far out of Paris? Who even knew this house existed, it seemed so distant from reality.

"Oh, God," Christine whispered, her hand going to her suddenly breathless throat. She knew those horses...she knew the carriage in which those animals pulled. As it neared the emblem of the de Chagny crest seemed to sear into Christine's eyes. Raoul...

"Who is that, Mademoiselle?" Anita asked.

"Raoul..." she managed to whisper, feeling the blood drain from her face. What was he doing here? How had he found her? Anita paled slightly as well before looking away from Christine to the handsome man who stepped out of the carriage. His face lit with immediate joy as he ran to Christine. The young woman was in so much shock she could do nothing as he embraced her and pressed a frantic kiss to her mouth.

"Christine! Oh, thank God! You had no idea how worried I was about you!" he cried.

"Raoul..." she managed again. He pushed some wayward curls from her face and frowned as he looked down into her eyes.

"Christine, little Lotte, what is wrong?" he asked, his face creasing with concern. Christine finally realized why it was she was in such shock.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. Christine had to look away from the hurt expression that crossed his eyes.

"I love you, Christine! I came to take you away from that thing!" he said logically, as if he could not believe she even had to ask. Anita was looking around them nervously, as if expecting Erik to come out of no where and kill them all. Christine swallowed and pushed away from him.

"No. You must leave! He must not find you here!" she said hastily. She could only imagine what Erik would do to them both if he caught them together in his home. Raoul seemed unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Christine, has he threatened you in some way?" he demanded, his face instantly becoming angry. Christine was quick in her response.

"No! Of course not! But he will hurt you, Raoul! You must leave!" Christine pleaded. The idea of him being hurt made her sick inside. Raoul remained stubbornly in place.

"He still has you under his spell, Christine. Break away from him!" he pleaded, the love for her never diminishing in her eyes. Did someone always have to get hurt in this triangle?

"Raoul, I refuse to see you hurt! Leave!" Christine cried.

"Ah, but Christine, it is a little late for that, my dear," a cold voice said. Christine, Raoul, and Anita all turned to see Erik standing not far from them. His eyes were narrowed and his mouth set in a grim line. Christine felt her heart begin to pound. Raoul turned to face Erik, pulling his sword from its sheath.

"No! Raoul, don't!" Christine pleaded. Erik smiled stonily. The words Erik murmured next were cold as ice and caused Christine's very heart to freeze.

"If it is a dance to the death you wish, Monsieur, I am ready."