The Match©2006

By Phantasmarose

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to any of the original POTO characters such as Erik, Christine, Meg, Raoul, and Madame Giry. These belong to Leroux, and ALW. The settings outside the lair and all original characters to this story belong to me.

A/N: Sorry I took so long to update but I took a few days off and went to a Spa upstate. I took my laptop so I did get some work done. I expanded this chapter a bit. Please Review.

Rook to King's level 1

Raoul sat at the dining room table. He was impeccably dressed and looked as if he were hosting a dinner. The notes from the music box drifted down the stairs. Raoul groaned and took a sip of his wine. While the Creature lay unconscious, Christine had not left Erik's side from the moment of their arrival. Several times, he had stood by the door where the Creature lay. He had seen the tenderness with which she cared for him. Even his puke was not abhorrent to her. On the contrary, it made her smile, because the Doctor said it meant he was reacting…a good sign.

Raoul was mystified by the way she caressed the putrid face. He was beginning to accept the inevitable. Although he was not a vain man, he knew he had so much more to offer Christine. Her life as his vicomtess would have been wondrous, their children beautiful, he would have made sure of that. He and Christine would have been the toast of Parisian society. Yet, she chose the Creature, dying, disfigured, and destitute. She chose him. He wondered how Philippe would handle this situation. Would he allow himself to be rejected in this manner?

For the hundredth time he wondered if, he should throw them out. Let them both crawl into a cave. That is where the Creature would be most comfortable anyway. He did not doubt that Christine would follow him there with the same devotion she showed him now. He could not bring himself to be cruel to her.

Making sure that Christine was still in the kitchen Raoul crept up to the Creature's room. He had begun to think of that second floor area of the mansion as the Creature's wing. Some dark power emanated from that area, and Raoul no longer felt comfortable there as if it were not part of his home.

When he entered the room, the creature was laying there with his eyes closed. Half his face covered by the white mask. Dead? He would never have that kind of luck. Raoul did not notice the slight movement under the covers.

"I suppose I should thank you Vicomte. Christine says you saved my life," Erik said, suddenly startling Raoul. Erik's tone of voice was laced with such subtle disdain that Raoul wasn't sure he had caught the insult correctly.

"I also owe you for your hospitality to us."

Us, he had said. Raoul contained himself from jumping on the Creature and pummeling him where he lay. 'Us', indeed! He reminded himself again that he had to remain civil, if he wanted to retain even a shadow of a chance of regaining Christine.

Raoul looked around the plain, but comfortable guest bedroom. It looked the same, nothing had changed, but the Creatures presence permeated and transformed the room into something dark that Raoul could not get a handle on. "I noticed a chess set in your… home…by the bed."

"Yes." Erik wondered what the vicomte wanted with all this small talk.

"Would you care for a game?" Raoul asked as casually as he could.

Erik shrugged. Erik would have loved to throw the Punjab lasso he had under the sheets at the vicomte's neck, but because of Christine, he could do nothing.

Raoul had his father to thank for his chess prowess. Count de Chagny had had his two sons tutored by the best chess master he could find in France. First, Philippe mastered the game and eventually when Raoul was of age, he too had received special training. He had the further advantage of practicing with Philippe and other noblemen who had had similar training. He was as well trained in the game of chess as he was in scrimmage. The outcome of that encounter with the Creature had been favorable, despite a slight scar on his right arm. Raoul was counting on his expertise in the game to humiliate the Creature. First, he would beat him in private, and then he would challenge him to a friendly match in front of Christine. He wanted the Creature on the ground, stomped and defeated before him.

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Raoul returned immediately holding a chess set in his hands. It was old and looked expensive. He noticed Erik's admiring eyes on it. "It belonged to François Philidor the world…"

"Yes, I know."

Raoul pulled up a small table and began to set up. Erik touched each of the pieces, admiring the artistry.

"Philidor, you say it is an honor."

Raoul allowed him to admire and touch the chess set, but was anxious to start the game.

"Let us play then." Erik opened with his pawn. Raoul smiled, sat back, and played his knight. The game continued until Raoul heard Erik say "Check mate vicomte."

Erik kept a serious face, too serious, too controlled, Raoul thought. The bastard is laughing at me! Raoul's eyes and mouth opened as he looked over the board and took in the outcome. It had caught him by surprise. Raoul could not see any errors in his game…yet.

"You had a good teacher." Erik was honestly impressed he had been sure he could beat the vicomte in ten moves or less, but out of a rare sense of politeness, he did not say so. "What was his name?"

"Sodovesky," replied the younger man.

"Sodovesky…Sodovesky…it is so familiar."

"I doubt you know him. He was World Champion in his own right in…"

"In Fifty-seven. Yes, I played him a couple of years later."

"Impossible! Why would he play an amateur?" The impertinence of the Creature was more than Raoul could bear.

"If I recall, it was an exhibition game." Erik clicked his tongue as if it were a key to access his mind.

"…and he played with you?" Raoul was loosing his patience.

"Andre Sodovesky. Yes, I was young, and he was very kind to play me."

Raoul wanted to ask him the outcome of the match, but when Erik made no other comment, he suddenly knew. Raoul's eyes widened and his face reddened when he recalled a story Sodovesky liked to tell when he felt a 'life lesson' was necessary to reel in his cocky young student. He told about a strange boy wearing a mask who had beaten him twice at an unofficial match. The boy had gone on to beat every other player at the exhibition, then disappeared like an apparition. Then, Sodovesky told his student "There is always someone better out there. You just have to play enough opponents to find them. I did."

Like a man running toward a sword pointed at him Raoul had to ask.

"Who was your teacher?"

"Why, I never had your possibilities vicomte, I couldn't afford a teacher," Erik answered unceremoniously.

Raoul's face fell, and he felt the weapon twisting in his gut. "How then?"

Erik continued, "I read everything I could, and played everyone who would play me. I often play myself invariably, I lose then," he smirked. "It is just a game vicomte and even a phantom has to have a pastime."

Raoul's breath was ragged and his jaw hung loose. He was about to remove the offending chess set when Erik said, "Leave it please, maybe we can play again later." How clever this Creature was. Now it was he that had to fear being humiliated in front of Christine. How he hated him! How he hated that half face, that despicable leer. Yet, despite the consuming hatred he felt for this creature, he found that he begrudgingly admired him for his innate abilities.

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Christine stood at the door with a bowl of hot soup and a huge grin. "I knew you would find something in common." She said to the two men. "Did you enjoy your game?" Neither man said a word.

She moved to Erik's side putting a big napkin under his chin. "I can feed myself Christine," he protested.

"Maybe, but you won't. I know you'll leave most of it."

He screwed up his nose and she coxed him into taking the first spoonful of soup.

She has to coax him! What I would give to have her spoon the vilest soup into my mouth. Damn him! I have barely eaten in two days, and she has not even noticed. Raoul refused to watch his enemy being mollycoddled by his; yes, he admitted it, his former fiancé.

Christine continued spooning soup into Erik's mouth, and every once in a while she would coax him with a little smile.

"Erik you have to eat so you can regain your strength."

"I do not need all this food."

"It's only been two days. You are still weak."

"I am not weak. I am simply a little tired."

She bent over him and wiped a little soup from the corner of his mouth with her lips.

He shuddered at the contact. Her lips remained in touch with his. Erik reached up behind her head to deepen the kiss but she pulled back and fed him another spoonful. This one he took greedily, and allowed a tiny dribble down his chin. Almost imperceptivity, he lifted his chin. Christine smiled and moved in closer to lick him clean. He sucked in his breath and closed his eyes.

As they broke the kiss, he said, "I am going to beg you for soup everyday."

"And I will be happy to help you drink it, if you are feeling weak."

She licked his lips again, and Erik felt his heart strain against his chest, his breath no longer rhythmic. His whole body reacted to her ministrations.

"Do you think you might be feeling weak tomorrow my love?" she asked, feeding him another spoonful.

"Tomorrow, I will probably be even weaker than today," he answered with a wicked smile on his soup stained lips.

When he was finished, she covered him up and tiptoed out. Erik rested unable to take his mind off him meal.

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Raoul sat reading by himself in the library. As Christine passed him, she asked him if he had eaten.

"Sure," he answered feeling pleasure for being in her thoughts. "Christine, if I hadn't, eaten I mean, would you…have fed me?" he was sorry he'd said it as soon as it was out of his mouth.

Christine regarded him for a moment. "Raoul, you are strong and healthy. Why would I?" He looked crestfallen, but nodded. Christine approached him and said "If you needed me Raoul, I would do all I could for you." She rewarded him with one of her smiles, which only served to make him yearn for what he had lost.

"I need you Christine," Raoul rasped, but she had already closed the doors to the kitchen.

Once more, Raoul made his way to the Phantom's wing late in the afternoon only to find both of them fast sleep on the bed. Christine curled up on top of the covers, and Erik's arm thrown protectively over her legs. They were completely innocent at that moment and that was what bothered him. As they lay there, they looked like a couple of youngsters gleaning pleasure from the barest of contact. The scene reeked of intimacy and Raoul had to look away in shame and rage. The image burned itself into his skull. Raoul made up his mind never to set foot in the Creature's wing again.

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That evening Raoul came up from his father's cellars with one of the finest bottles of wine there. He had already had an aperitif of a lesser quality of wine. If you are going to have wine as dinner, it has to be the best. He smiled at his father's humor.

As he opened the door, he nearly hit Christine.

"Oh, Raoul."

"Well, so here is Little Lotte."

"I was looking for a book to read to Erik."

"Of course, Erik," he said bitterly.

"He's not used to being in bed all day."

"We wouldn't want him to get bored," he said sarcastically.

"Raoul, he's still not well!"

"I'm surprised, with all the nurses he has."

She did not look at him but in a firm voice offered, "We can leave if we bother you."

He caught the 'we'. Did they both sit up there, and plan what they would say to him to hurt and humiliate him the most? "No, No, Lotte. Don't be silly, I love the company."

She gave him a little shy smile. His Lotte, was no longer an "I" but part of a "we" and he, was not the other half of it. He felt disgusted with himself for letting the situation get away from him. For the first time in days, he was grateful that Philippe was not around to see his utter disgrace.

"Come, have a glass of wine with me Lotte."

"All right, but just a little Raoul." He opened the bottle and poured two glasses.

"Christine, did you ever love me? he blurted out. He was again sorry he'd asked, but unable to take it back.

She wasn't sure how to answer him and decided to just be straightforward.

"Yes Raoul I did." She lowered her head.

"What happened to us then?"

"Nothing, Raoul, I still love you…but it's a little girl's love for her first friend."

"You love…loved me only as a friend or was there ever more? For God's sake Christine, we were engaged."

"Maybe there was Raoul, but I can't compare that to what Erik and I have always had."

"Always had?" he asked confused.

"I'm sorry Raoul. Erik has been everything to me since father died. He has been an angel, a father, a teacher, a friend, and now…"

"Your lover too, I suppose," he said bitterly.

"No." she shook her head,

"But…I see…you're that close?"

"Yes." she said looking down.

He kissed her forehead and they drank to each other's health, although his heart was beyond mending. Christine picked up the book and walked upstairs to read to Erik. Raoul raised a glass of the finest wine to the Creature, in capitulation. He could almost hear a low baritone whispering, Check mate.

End of Game one

Note: François Philidor. French Chess world champion 1747-95