Author's Note: Ah! The story is half-way posted already! Where does the time go? Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. And as always, I love to hear your thoughts, so please leave a review!
Riding and Soaring
Christine wanted nothing more than to sleep the day away in her room, but knew that she had a few responsibilities to take care of before she relaxed. The first of which was Raoul. She had obviously not been able to call him last night and was afraid to call him today.
'I wouldn't, but I don't want to imagine his reaction if I neglect to call him two days in a row…'
She picked up the phone with a shaky hand and slowly dialed his number. The line was picked up on the first ring.
"Hello, Raoul?" she said in a small voice.
"Christine!" came his angry reply. "I order you to call me every night, an instruction that I did not think so difficult to obey, but evidently I was incorrect." He launched into his triade immediately, not even giving Christine time to take a breath after her greeting.
"But Raoul," she tried to interrupt. "I was in town last night and…"
"I do not want to hear your excuses right now, Christine. I told you to call me and you disobeyed. I think you should come home right now."
His suggestion horrified Christine; she almost dropped the phone. 'Explaining what happened to me isn't going to work…not like I would have told him the truth anyways…' The thought of telling Raoul the truth terrified her even more. 'He would have had the whole of Rennes arrested and probably come here himself to make sure I was alright.'
"Christine? You should come home. Here, I'll even book your plane ticket."
"No! Raoul, please let me stay. I've only just begun my vacation. I'm sorry that I didn't call you last night. I was being careless and stupid. Please let me stay?" Christine begged, trying her best to sound sincere. "I promise I'll be more careful. Please?"
Raoul was silent for a moment, thinking it over. Finally, he responded. "Fine, Christine. But one more slip up, and you are coming home. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Raoul."
"Good. You obviously don't have to call me tonight, but you had better call me tomorrow. Understand?"
Christine rolled her eyes and fought to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. He was talking to her as if she was a child, and she hated it.
"Yes, Raoul, I understand. Thank you."
"You're welcome. Goodbye Christine."
Christine was about to say goodbye, but Raoul had already hung up the phone. She pulled the receiver away from her ear and glared at it, imagining it to be Raoul's head. She sighed, exasperated at his behavior.
'At least I can get on with my day now,' she thought.
Christine dressed in a long-sleeved shirt to hide the bruises on her arms and used concealer to cover the bruises on her face, putting on a hat to further veil her visage. She left the room only to assure the docent that she had arrived back at the château safely and to grab a bit of food and ice from the kitchens. For the rest of the day, Christine remained in her room, nursing her bruises and trying to read, but thinking about what the night was to bring instead.
XOX
Christine snuck out her room at a quarter to 10, ready to shift and dodge through the castle in order to reach the forbidden south-west wing. She had a few close encounters with the night crew, but escaped into the shadows before they would get a clear look at her.
She reached the wing earlier than she anticipated. Christine wondered why he asked her to meet him here. The question was not pondered too heavily, though, as she soon spotted a figure moving towards her from out of the shadows.
Erik's deep voice floated to her ears. "You are ready?"
"Where are we going?"
"This way," he responded, intentionally giving her a vague answer. She rolled her eyes and followed him closely to their mysterious destination. Erik opened a fireplace, again too quickly for Christine to see where the trigger was. They entered together, walking down the dark passage, Erik slightly in the lead, lighting their path with his small flashlight. Christine noticed a slight temperature change.
'We're outside,' she thought, happy that she had kept on her long-sleeved shirt. They approached a flight of stairs which led to a door. Christine instantly recognized the earthy smell of hay and manure. She smiled.
"We're going riding," more of a statement than a question.
He reached for Nacre's tack and was about to get started when Christine intervened. Taking the equipment out of Erik's hands, she said, "I can take it from here, thanks." He looked doubtful for a moment, but a look from Christine made him relinquish the saddle and prepare his own horse, Lance.
Ten minutes later, the couple left the barn atop their horses. The night was clear with just a slight breeze. Christine's hair blew back from her face lightly as she lifted her eyes to the heavens. The whole cosmos was spread out before her. Millions of stars twinkled brightly, almost outshined by the full moon. The light it cast lit their path sufficiently. Instead of the eerie feeling the moonlight lent to the scenery the night before, the night she was attacked, everything was now soft and ethereal.
The spirits of the forest came alive with the moonlight. Nocturnal animals moved in the dense brush. Crickets chirped softly and the low hoot of an owl sometimes punctuated the night. The trees themselves seemed able to talk. Their leaves rustled in the light wind and their trunks settled further into the earth with a creak. The experience was enchanting.
"This is beautiful," said Christine quietly, trying not to disturb the music of the night.
"Yes, beautiful." Erik shot a meaningful look at Christine. She blushed and looked down with a smile.
"Do you come out here often?" she asked.
"I go riding about four or five days a week and visit the stables almost everyday." 'Everyday since you left,' he added silently.
"Is that how you can ride Lance then? Not everyone can tame a stallion."
Erik looked down at his steed and gave him a hearty pat on the neck. "I would not say that I have tamed him. I have found that when you spend so much time with one so wild, an understanding develops. I am merely lucky he tolerates me."
"Well, he seems to like you as well," Christine said, noting the stallion's more-than-contented demeanor.
"Yes, that helps as well."
Christine's gentle laugh drifted for a moment and disappeared into the night. They were silent for a while, enjoying their calm ride through the night.
Christine decided that enough time had passed and determined that now was the right moment to approach the subject that had eluded their conversations thus far.
"Do you remember that night 10 years ago?"
"Every second of it," he replied without hesitation.
"That was…what did…" she faltered. Erik was silent, patiently waiting for her to continue. "I haven't forgotten either," she finished lamely. Despite her dumb reply, she was gaining confidence now. "I wanted to, to forget, you know. I thought it would be silly to hang on to the idea that I would ever see you again. But I haven't been able to forget. And I'm glad that I didn't."
"It's fate," he said simply.
"Maybe," she replied with a smile. "Maybe."
XOX
They returned to the barn and Erik took her back through the passage.
"I don't want this to end, Erik. I want to keep remembering."
"Then you shall," he said. Bidding her goodnight, he gently kissed her hand, which had been enclosed in his for the majority of the evening.
Christine watched the fireplace door slide shut, and smiled broadly. Changing and rethinking the evening, she crawled into bed, a silly smile still spread across her lips. As soon as her head hit the pillow, Christine descended into a peaceful sleep.
XOX
Christine woke up in a good mood that was only brightened when she saw a letter on her desk. It was from Erik.
Christine-
Let's keep remembering. Meet me at the same time in the same place.
-Erik
She was more perturbed at the shortness of the letter than the fact that he was at one point in her room while she was asleep. He gave no other details, which made her somewhat nervous. She pushed the thought out of her mind, though.
'I have until 10 tonight. I must find something with which to occupy my time.'
She decided that, because of her bruises, which were now a sickly green color, the pool was out of the question. Donning a long sleeved shirt and hat to avoid questions, Christine decided that the library would be a good place to occupy her time. She ventured through the corridors, easily finding the library. Plush couches and tables were scattered amidst the numerous bookshelves. Looking in the classic section, Christine located a book that piqued her interest. It was Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy. She immersed herself into it, wrapping herself in the plot and the characters.
The hours passed slowly. After a few hours in the library, she headed up to her room to call Meg, and more importantly, Raoul. Soon, the clock read 9:50 p.m. Christine left and met Erik at 10 o'clock on the dot.
Erik greeted her and, taking her hand, led her to a familiar place. It was the music room, the room in which she had first encountered Erik and his music. She was about to ask a question when Erik shushed her.
"We can talk later. Right now, I want to hear you sing."
"How do you know I can sing?" Christine asked. She did not remember telling him about her life at all.
"I can hear it in the way you speak," he said. "Now ready yourself."
Christine felt like she was in one of her college classes again. She positioned herself as Erik took her through scales to warm up her voice. When he was pleased, he started her on an easy piece, obviously trying to gauge her talent. She sang it without one flaw, so he moved up to a more difficult piece. A few pieces later and Christine was singing advanced arias that made Erik's heart soar.
He decided to really test her talent and handed her a piece that he composed.
"'Think of Me'?" she asked. "You wrote this?"
He nodded and gave her time to look over the aria.
Confidently, Christine said, "I'm ready."
She began to sing, hesitant at first because of the unfamiliarity of the tune and lyrics. Soon though, her voice gained power and confidence. By the end of the aria, Christine's voice had soared. Like a bird, it alighted from her mouth and ascended to the rafters. From there, it reverberated off the ceiling and flew out the door, sweeping down the halls, losing volume, but not beauty.
The last note was sung, and the song was finished. Erik rested for a moment, in awe of the talent he had just witnessed. 'With my music,' he thought proudly.
Recovering from his initial shock, he then launched into his criticism. Christine took it with grace.
"You are great," he explained, "but you are not perfect. Not yet."
They practiced only a little more; Erik did not want to strain Christine's voice. He invited her to sit while he fetched tea. He seated himself in a massive leather chair facing the loveseat on which Christine was comfortably lounging.
"Now," he said, "we can talk."