Christine paced up and down her room, halting at the small side table every now and then to sip from her tea. Dottore Romani had been to visit her and had found no objections to her lessons.
"You will find your own balance, Signora. Be careful with drafts, drink plenty of fluids and make sure you eat amply. That should suffice in your healing."
And so their lessons would start today. She could not understand her nerves. Her vocal training had been part of her every day routine from the early age of ten, he needn't even encourage her to start. But this was different, her life had changed so much since then...
"Are you ready to commence?" She hadn't even noticed him coming in. Without looking at her he had walked over to the piano, sorting papers and aria's he had brought.
"I'm not sure..." This caught his attention. He pulled up his brow, apparently awaiting her explanation. He noticed her trembling hands.
"Am I wrong in assuming you haven't sung much these last years?"
"Not since that night...my music left me that very night." She had not dared speak the words loudly, but it had been loud enough for him to hear.
"You mean to tell me that in all those years...?" His question remained unanswered. He did not know whether to be flattered by her loyalty towards him, or angry at her disregard of the wonders they had accomplished together.
"My singing was so easy once. I closed my eyes and sang to you. Even in that sold out Opera, filling in for Carlotta at such short notice...It was easy because I knew you were there, hearing me and guiding me. Without your presence it simply seemed...utterly useless. Wrong in every way."
She heard herself blur out her confessions, not knowing where they came from. It were the doubts she had been struggling against since that very evening she had asked him for her lessons. She hadn't noticed him getting up and silently as ever he was now standing before her. She couldn't anticipate how he would react to her words but to her surprise, he let out an almost fatherly sigh, shaking his head at her.
"Well then, this will be more work than I had anticipated. You passing through such an important age frame without any training..."
Silently she scolded herself. From 18 to 23 she hadn't sung a note. These had been the years where her voice would make its final growth, before fitting into a certain frame. From then on they could merely work with what they had, rather then allowing her to reach even greater heights.
"Close your eyes, Christine."
She looked up at him puzzled, suddenly realising he had already begun. This was a trick he had used often, when she was still younger and uncertain of her abilities. He meant to make her less aware of her surroundings, so that she could focus entirely on her voice, on the things that lay within. Closing her eyes, she sighed deep.
"That's correct, steady your breath." She felt him move closer to her and found it increasingly more difficult to steady her breath.
Two hands on her shoulders. "You are way too tense. How do you suppose to let the music pass when your whole being is centered around your muscular strains?" She noticed his voice was warm and encouraging as he tried to shake the tension from her aching muscles. It worked, he noticed it.
"Well then, let's start with the middle bars and see if we can get you up from there."
Automatically Christine began her exercises. Softly at first, but growing under his encouragement.
Every now and then she heard him hit a note on the piano to indicate the tone he required of her, but mostly she noticed him walking around her, slightly touching her on occasion to help her on technique, the position of her head, her chin, her frame. Her eyes still closed she felt her music return to her as from a far distance. Like a carriage on a foggy road, where at first you hear only its wheels and its whinnying horses, before it passes into full view. She did not even notice the tears coming down her face, nor Erik's. As the final note had passed, she turned at him, shaking.
"That was...it felt so..."
He nodded, his face once again a perfect marble. "That was very good. I had expected nothing less, Christine." She noticed he had very aptly reobtained his role of mentor and seemed very comfortable in the part.
"We will start with a familiar piece, so you need not yet bother searching the melody and can focus completely on your singing."
The morning passed more quickly than she wanted. The piece he had selected for her had indeed not been a difficult one, but she found it hard enough. She had not anticipated the lack of training to bother her so, and found herself quite tired at the end of it. She noticed Erik being very gentle on her, and Erik in turn found Christine more critical of herself than before. She recognised her mistakes before he could correct her and instead of pouting at his remarks she took a deep breath and tried again. Five years had been a great gap indeed. Not only had it matured her voice, but also her body and mind. The chorus girl was no more. Before him stood a diva in the making.
"That shall be enough for today." It were the words he had used for many years upon hearing the Ballet Rats move through the corridor, knowing Marie would not allow him to make Christine miss her ballet rehearsals.
"Your voice sounded better then I had anticipated. You have worked hard, Christine. I'm very content." His praise meant even more to her now as it had done before.
"You are too kind, I'm sure."
"It was your first training in five years. Let it rest. This afternoon you will enjoy this fine weather and tomorrow we will continue." He started clearing his papers, absently addressing her as he would his servants.
"I must ask you to repeat the ladders to yourself a few times each day, they will help warm your vocal chords, help them realise they once again have hard work on their hands. Sing lullabies to Céline if you wish, anything to keep them busy."
Before she could speak again he interrupted her. "Rest now, have your tea. I am late for my meeting with that fool Galdoni as it is." Recognising that might have sounded too harsh he added. "Not to say that the delay was not a welcome one."
He nodded at her once more, before turning on his heals and leaving as suddenly as he had arrived.
Christine sat down, realising she really longed for another cup of tea. She was tired and her vocal chords were aching from their hard labour, but she felt more alive than she had in many years. It was the first time she actually sat down in her own sitting room. Most of the time she had been in her bedroom, or if the weather permitted it in the garden. She looked around, once more baffled at the room's delicate design. It was as if he had visited her dreams and had seen her innermost thoughts and desires. Picking up one of the books, she suddenly realised that the idea was not so strange. After all, she had confided in him for many a year.
"What a pretty new dress you wear today, my dear."
"It was a gift from Maman Giry. She wanted to buy me a pink one, but I prefer the blue so much better. It is like the colour of heaven!"
"Late again for your lesson, my dear?" "I am sorry Angel, but I was reading in my book of Les Misérables and Cosette is so alone and scared!"
He had always let her talk and talk, about her books, her friends, her new ballet piece that she could not grasp, the heroes from her fairy tale stories and how one day she hoped to meet just such a hero.
"If you sing to him as you do for me, my dear, he will whisk you on his white horse and carry you off to his castle in a second." How true those words had proven to be!
"He was born to love you, when he heard you sing..."
"I'm sorry?" Galdoni had made a remark concerning the main altar, but Erik had constantly felt his attention drawn away. Good God! Even in his waking moments she had begun to haunt him!
"Without your presence it simply seemed...utterly useless. Wrong in every way..." How he had wished to say the same to her! He had not been able to compose in her absence. All it took for him was to hear her voice again. Now his head was once again so full with the loveliest melodies it was driving him to insanity. He quickly concluded his meeting to return to his home, his piano. He knew it would be a long night...
The aria they were working on was a difficult piece. For a while they had pondered about with familiar pieces, but Erik yearned to push her limits, see just how much she had grown and discover where her boundaries lay. Seeing her being so critical of herself had allowed him to do the same, and today he had plenty to remark to. The pianoforte ceased abruptly, followed by a frustrated moan.
"That was absolutely appalling. Where did that come from? Have you perhaps been to tea with the disastrous Carlotta? Has she infected you with her sour voice?" Before she could argue or object, he started the aria from the beginning. "Again Christine, from the beginning. Concentrate!"
She sighed, closed her eyes and tried not to be affected by his ruthless remarks. She had dealt with them before and always managed to survive. She had learned to recognise them as a result from lack of sleep. Whenever he had brought her near tears, he had appologised at the end of their lesson, claiming he had been up late writing music. Could he be composing once again? Would he share the piece with her once finished? Before she knew it she had missed the bar again. She simply could not find the right technique!
"That was..."
"I know! I know, no need to rub it in so fiercely each and every time! If I were perfect at every aspect, I would not need your lessons, would I? I am here to learn, so teach me in stead of stating the obvious!"
For a moment he sat dumbfounded. She had learned to stand up for herself. Would she have addressed the Vicomte as such? He grinned at the idea.
"You are utterly in the right. I am very sorry. I suppose a lack of sleep..." Now it was her turn to smile, she had been right!
"You are composing then?" He nodded vaguely, of course he would never admit that that was not the only thing depriving him from sleep. Thoughts of Christine's warm body to his, covering her in kisses, hearing her whisper his name, her voice thick with desire, longing for his touch...
"Will you share it with me?" Her enthusiasm sounded almost childlike. He remembered her excitement on being revealed to the first parts of Don Juan. How could she have known then what it would lead to!
"I may, when I have progressed far enough for it to be a coherent piece..." He frowned.
"But first things first. You are cleverly trying to avoid your duties, Signora and I will not accept it!"
Instead of the cold Madame he now usually addressed her with the Italian alternative, which sounded ever so much friendlier. She sighed, as he came behind her to give her instructions on composure.
"Lower your shoulders, tuck in your chin. Only tuck it, do not tilt your head, like so."
Again she felt his warm hand on her face, making her think back at that night after the Opera. He did not seem to notice the shiver in her body as he continued towards her waist.
"Make sure you remain in a straight line, you have a tendency to tense your abdomen region too tightly, causing the tone to overstress." She nodded, convinced her voice would tremble too much upon speaking.
"Try it once more, just this bar." She doubted for a second, his hand still resting along her waistline, waiting. As she started the bar, keeping her head in check, she felt his hands correcting her line and noticed what he had meant with his remarks on straining the wrong muscles. As she tipped the high note his hand shot flat across her abdomen, making sure she would not tilt them inward once more. She was astonished at the change.
"Very good. I trust you felt the difference?"
Unable to utter another word she turned at him. He noticed the flush on her cheeks, the trembling of her breath, and in the same fragment of a second he realised what had happened, her lips were on his. Cautiously at first, as it had been that dreadful night, but then more self assured.
A whirlwind of emotions overcame him. There was no other lover this time, no noose around his neck, no impossible dilemmas. She was kissing him by her own choice. How he wanted her to continue, how he wanted her to stop! By now her hands were wrapped around his neck, begging him closer, unwanting to leave him. But he made the decision none the less. Pushing her from him with more force then perhaps intended, he closed his eyes and tried to forget what had just passed. But upon opening them again he found she was still there, her lips still moist and rose from their recent excitement, her eyes feverishly searching his face for a reaction, an answer to her questions that he knew he did not have.
"I cannot Christine...please...I just..." Flashbacks of that night, their kiss, that same look of disbelieve on his face...
He turned and walked, as he had so many times, but this was the first time Christine sincerely feared whether she would ever see him again...
Ha! Leaving you with a cliffhanger here! Depending on how many reviews you guys give me, I'll reward you with all the answers shortly... -x-