Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera or Wicked.
Remember: Keep your hand at the level of your eyes, and nothing matters but knowing nothing matters.
A/N: Hey, I'm back early, and with an exceptionally difficult chapter! I know I said I'd publish after Easter, but I got everything done early! Anyway…
Strong PG-13 for attempted rape sequence, and bear in mind that I do NOT intend to make very much of a love scene. Making out is about all you'll get, so… dare I say it? imagine the rest, if you will.
Chapter XII – Love and Hate
It was like a terrible vision of déjà-vu. Erik was once again crumpled in his throne, his mask lying on the flagged stone floor a few feet away, and a half-empty liquor bottle sloshing in his hands. His features had grown red from emotion and drink, and he shot off a number of colorful expletives as Christine's face swam in his brain yet again. She was gone for good, why wouldn't her face leave his thoughts?
After awhile, Erik slipped into a dream. Christine stood staring at him; it was the night of Don Juan Triumphant. He reached out to her and she shook her head, turning away. He called her name, but she didn't look back. She disappeared into a darkness even he couldn't see through. A scream erupted from behind him and he spun around, hoping she was coming back. Instead, he saw a man chasing another woman, and she was running towards him.
Elphaba.
She clung to his chest, frightened of the pursuing figure.
"Erik!" she cried.
Without a second thought he let fly the lasso around the pursuer's neck, bringing him down in one stroke.
It was Raoul.
"Erik!" Elphie cried again, her voice echoing in his mind.
Erik bolted from the throne like he'd been shocked. Had it been some sort of vision? He'd accepted that Christine was gone, but the other half… Erik shook himself. It wasn't his place to waltz in on Elphie. He didn't even know where she was, probably back in Oz by now…
Nevertheless, he was restless and jumpy from the dream. Cursing, Erik whipped his cloak over his shoulders and staggered toward the Rue Scribe entrance.
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Elphaba braced herself against the wind blowing down the narrow street. She had been wandering aimlessly through the city since Fiyero had turned his back on her last night. Elphie blinked furiously as more tears welled up when his face filled her thoughts again. No matter how hard and long she cried, there always seemed to be more tears. Brushing them away as quickly as she could, Elphie pulled her hood up and stumbled into a small café.
The place was dimly lit and a half-finished bar stretched the length of the back wall. Elphie struggled to one of the bar stools, edging past two intoxicated men who were loudly discussing their love lives. She signaled the barman, who immediately slid a tall glass of some frothy red liquid toward her.
"I once bedded three girls in a night," one drunk slurred proudly.
"That's nothing," said another. "I did five at the same time, you have no idea of the pleasure—"
Elphie spat her drink all over the counter at this declaration and the men looked at her curiously.
"S'matter?" one guffawed. "Ya never enjoyed it before?"
Elphie turned slightly away so they wouldn't see her face and shook her head slowly.
"Well then, mon ami," said the larger of the two, "we may as well tell ye all about it so ye know what t'expect when ye fin'lly get a whore f'yerself."
He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her around to face them and her hood fell back.
The man immediately let go, but there was no shout of fear or alarm.
"Etrange…" he muttered to his companion. "As-tu vu une fille comme ça?"
"Non," said the other. "What would it be like, I wonder? Should we test?"
A grin came over his face and Elphie pulled herself up to sit on the counter, as far away from him as she could get. But they were surprisingly quick for being large and drunk. The smaller scrambled onto the bar and caught her wrist as the other grabbed her around the waist.
All Elphie could think was that she could do nothing without the Grimmerie, and that was miles away in Oz. She was in too much shock to even scream as they carried her outside, mumbling to other customers that she was more intoxicated than they.
She was slammed into the ground as he dropped her.
"We're not gonna hurt ye, cherie," said one, tugging on her hair.
"Then leave me," she whispered hoarsely.
Desire filled a smile on his face. "Ce n'est pas possible, I'm afraid," he hissed.
Elphie reached to slap him, but he grabbed her wrist again. She screamed and his hand clamped over her mouth, and her teeth sliced through it. He released her and howled in pain as she swirled her cloak over her protectively. Elphie knew it wouldn't hold for long, but she had to do something to keep them away.
So caught up in thoughts of Fiyero was she that she failed to notice the uneasy quiet a moment later. A deep voice broke the silence, taut with emotion and edged with rage.
"Elphaba, you're afraid. Don't be."
She raised the cloak. Erik stood over her, eyes blazing at the two bodies on the ground, lasso coiled in his hand.
Elphie could only stare at him. Finally she found her voice.
"Where did you come from?"
He looked down at her, emotion still clear in his eyes.
"This is my city, I have as much right to wander its streets as any Parisian citizen."
She stood shakily, dusting herself off.
"Where is Fiyero?" he demanded. "Why are you alone?"
Elphie glared at him.
"I can take care of myself. I'm not a child!"
"Au contraire, it seems."
She sighed.
"He's… gone. How could I be so stupid? He still loves Glinda, he told me and left."
Erik snarled. "That lying son of a –"
"Erik, please!" she interrupted. "Why aren't you with Christine, then?"
It was Erik's turn to look ashamed.
"It's over between us… I should have seen it. She won't leave Raoul."
"That whore!" Elphie cried angrily.
Erik stared at her in amazement, and she returned his gaze.
"What?"
"You do not seem the type to use profanities, mademoiselle."
"This is an exception," she snorted. "How dare she! It's not enough to break your heart once, is it?"
"That's less than Fiyero," he replied. "You two were going on for a few years already, if I'm not mistaken."
Elphie walked over and stared moodily down at the two men. "But you came."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Erik shifted uncomfortably. "I happened to be passing—"
She interrupted him with a wave of her hand. "Erik, you don't 'happen' to do anything."
He sighed. "Alright then, I heard you scream and came as fast as I could. Is that better?"
She turned around. "So, you really… care about me?"
His eyes flickered, the angry flames turning to something else.
"No, Elphie. I love you."
The fear in her eyes was overshadowed by something he couldn't place and Elphie threw herself into his arms, their lips colliding with a force beyond reckoning. It felt as if every emotion she had ever concealed from him came crashing through in that embrace. His tongue ran along her lips and she nipped it playfully. They broke apart and she smirked.
"I knew you felt something between us."
He growled and led her back into the bowels of the opera as quickly as he could. Darkness shrouded them like a familiar blanket and her voice echoed in the cavern.
"Erik, you have to admit it. I know you feel it, otherwise we wouldn't be here. I probably wouldn't be here."
He shushed her with another long kiss, his fingers tracing her jawline. They crashed on the bed in a whirl of black garments and scarlet sheets. As much as she didn't want to, Elphie fought his sensual attempts to seduce her, gripping his wrists in a vicelike hold.
"Admit it," she hissed. "You knew it, I know you did, so just say it already."
To her surprise, Erik raised himself from the bed and backed away from her, his eyes still blazing.
"Not until you say you love me."
She gazed at him and suddenly realized how afraid he was. He wouldn't fully commit until she made the same pledge he had.
An idea came to mind, and she grinned playfully at him. He stared at her, waiting. Elphie stripped down to a thin, chemise-like covering; the scarf Fiyero had given her. She had expanded it to be more than a simple scarf, and it was now the only thing between Erik and herself.
His breath came out in a low hiss. "Say it."
She looked at him serenely. "Erik, I love you. So much. I could burst with my love for you."
That was all he needed. Pinning her back on the bed, he gently removed the scarf, allowing it to whisper along her skin and making her writhe with need.
The last thing she heard before total bliss was,
"Everything I am is yours. And all you are is mine."
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Erik's mind swirled through a fantasy. Nothing had prepared him for Elphie, that was for certain. He wearily opened his eyes, surprised to find himself almost completely drained after last night. Elphaba herself was twisted in the crimson sheets, her head resting on his chest.
Erik smiled contentedly, stroking her hair. His now-warm touch awakened her and she looked up at him sleepily.
"I love you."
"I love you too, Elphie."
A/N: Please review!
Phantomfreak07
