For nine months, they had lived with awkward silences and uneasy glances. Erik had expected this, to a small extent. He knew that he was not Christine's first choice for a husband. Or second. Or third. She'd probably rather marry the damned Daroga than Erik. But it was starting to get to him; after nine months of living together as husband and wife, she still hadn't warmed up to him. He was a good husband, wasn't he?
He respected her space and her privacy. He never entered her room. When she was engrossed in a book, he left her alone. He took her on walks up above, wore gloves so that she didn't have to touch his skin, and never removed his mask in her presence. What else could she desire of a husband?
He wasn't sure how he was failing her, but he knew that he was.
Christmas' rapid approach gave him an idea. His little wife was becoming almost as reclusive as him. He wanted to make her smile again, to desire his company. It pained him to think that he might be the cause of her misery. And she was miserable, wasn't she? Was he a monster for keeping her, even though she was willing?
Erik pushed those thoughts away. He didn't like to dwell on such things.
He decided he would surprise her over several days by bringing several Scandinavian traditions into their little underground abode, certain she would love them. He had several books he consulted on the subject and outlined several ideas, giddy from thinking of how pleased she would be. Christmas had always been her favorite holiday; this had to cheer her up.
Day 1
On the night of her first surprise, Erik feigned interest in tending the fire, as she rose from the couch and moved towards her room. He resisted a chuckle, waiting eagerly to hear her reaction.
A shrill, unexpected scream startled him.
Erik raced to her side, finding her frozen in her doorway. "What's wrong, my dear?"
"There's… there's a goat in my room!"
Erik slid past her and pulled away the goat, who was happily munching on the sleeve of Christine's dressing gown, giving the bells around its neck a little shake. "It's a Yule goat, Christine!"
She stared at him for a long moment and he was entirely unable to read her expression. "You… got me a… yule goat? A goat… an actual goat… for Yule?"
His confidence was faltering, but he nodded. "They are a tradition, likely Germanic in origin but still observed in Sweden, yes?"
She bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "Oh Erik… that's very sweet of you. But surely we can't keep a live goat down here?"
"Of course not. But Yule goats assist in delivering presents and he has brought you a gift." He raised a small, wrapped box. "The wrapping is only slightly chewed."
Christine took it gingerly and unwrapped it, opening the box. She found several ribbons in reds and golds.
"For your hair." Erik smiled tentatively.
"Thank you, Erik. They're lovely." Eyeing the goat, she moved closer to him and placed a kiss on his masked cheek. "Now please, I think the Yule goat needs to go home."
Erik nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak. He led the goat from her room and Christine watched him go, shaking her head with a small smile.
Day 2
The next morning, Christine awoke to find every pair of shoes she owned lined up outside her bedroom door. "Erik?" she called, almost afraid to ask.
Her husband appeared around the corner. "Yes, little wife?"
"Why are my shoes lined up in the hall?"
"Why, so that the Yule lads may visit and leave you gifts, of course!"
"Did you take my shoes while I was sleeping?"
He hesitated, looking at the ground. "Erik is sorry, Christine. He did not mean to violate your privacy."
Christine sighed. She knew, or at least, she wanted to believe, that he meant well. "I forgive you, Erik."
His lips twitched in a small smile. Christine peered into her shoes and found a little wrapped candy in each one. "You must not eat more than one a day, Christine. Sugar is bad for your voice," he reminded her.
Christine nodded, giving his mask another kiss. "I won't. Thank you Erik."
He mumbled something about thanking the Yule lads, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. Christine had never heard of Yule lads before, but decided not to mention that.
Day 3
Christine had been reclining on the couch, engrossed in a book, when Ayesha, Erik's little Siamese cat, trotted in from the other room and began to nip at her ankles.
"Oh, stop that! Shoo! Erik!"
Erik entered with an amused grin. "Yes, my dear?"
"Your cat is biting me!"
"Ah." He clicked his tongue. "Perhaps she believes she is the Christmas Cat and must devour those who do not receive new clothes to wear for Christmas."
"Erik… do not tell me your cat is biting me… on your orders?"
Ignoring her question, Erik retrieved a large box and placed it in Christine's lap. "Perhaps if you open this, she will stop."
Christine hurriedly opened the box, revealing a dark green dress with gold details on the bodice. "Oh Erik… it's lovely."
Erik scooped up his cat and gave her a small tap on the nose. "No biting." He carried her from the room and Christine inspected her ankles for marks.
Day 4
The fourth day of his plan was a riskier one. This wasn't really a gift, but it was definitely a surprise.
When Christine finally rose for bed, he was immediately at her side. "I will ah… walk you to your room."
She hesitated, before moving towards the hall. Erik stopped her in the doorway with his hand on her arm. She glanced down at his fingers, which he immediately removed from her, and up to his face. "Yes?"
"We… we…" His nerves were starting to fail him. He cleared his throat. "We are standing under mistletoe."
Christine looked up at the little sprig hanging over their heads. "Oh… so we are."
She stood up on her toes and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. Erik closed his eyes, inhaling her sweet perfume. He remained still long after she moved away and disappeared into her room.
Day 5
Erik decided to draw from the song for the fifth day, keeping five golden rings in mind when selecting her gift. This gift was probably the most important he would give her, and he desperately hoped she would like it.
The ring he'd given her when they were married was an old costume ring he'd filched from the opera, meant to be symbolic rather than beautiful. But she was his wife and she deserved beautiful things, including a real ring.
There was no gimmick on the fifth day, no goats or mischievous lads; just a man, who knelt at the feet of the woman he adored and offered her the small box.
Christine slowly took it from him and opened it, revealing a gold ring inside, which was engraved with their wedding date. He watched her nervously, almost trembling. "May I… put it on you?"
She nodded and he slipped the ring from its box. He removed the old ring from her slender finger, replacing it with the new one. He lingered for a moment, staring at his ring, a proper wedding ring, on Christine's finger. He was nearly moved to tears.
Christine slowly sank to her knees, taking his masked face in her hands. "Erik… it's beautiful."
He closed his eyes, wishing her could feel the warmth of her hands on his cheeks. Erik had promised her, however; he would not remove the mask.
"Christine," his voice was thick with emotion, "I love you."
They knelt together in silence for a long moment, until she rose and wished him a goodnight, exiting to her room. Only then did he remove the mask and weep.
Day 6
On the sixth day, Christine found tiny gnome-looking creatures hidden all over the house when she emerged for breakfast. Erik greeted her at the table. "Good morning, wife."
"Good morning, Erik. What are the little gnomes for?"
"We are Nisse!" a little gnome to her left seemed to shout. "We bring presents to good children!"
"I'm not a child."
All of the Nisse hummed angrily and Christine looked to Erik curiously.
"I would not anger the Nisse, my dear." He turned a page in his morning paper nonchalantly. "They are not so friendly when you upset them."
The humming grew louder. Christine looked around helplessly. "How can I appease them, Erik?"
"I will ask." The humming paused and Erik nodded thoughtfully, before it resumed. "They said you must give your husband a kiss."
Christine resisted the urge to roll her eyes and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Immediately, the humming stopped. Erik held up a box he'd had hidden in his lap. "You have pleased the Nisse."
Christine laughed and took the box from him, finding some jeweled hairpins inside. "Thank you, Nisse."
Day 7
The Nisse had all disappeared by the next morning, and instead Christine found Erik trying to prop a massive tree in the corner of their parlor.
"Erik… what are you doing?"
"I am putting up our Christmas tree."
"Where did you get it?"
"From the woods. Where else would you find a tree, Christine?"
Christine shook her head. "You dragged a tree home from the woods… through the sewers?"
"I didn't let it get wet." He sounded miffed. "It's a clean tree."
At that moment, a bird flew out of the tree and past Christine, causing her to shriek. "Erik!"
"A partridge in a pear tree."
"It's not a pear tree and that was a cardinal, Erik."
"Hush Christine, lest Krampus comes and hauls you away for being naughty."
Christine placed her hands on her hips. "Do you have decorations for this tree you dragged all the way down here?"
He looked at her blankly and Christine shook her head. "I'll work on those. You… make sure there's no more wildlife in the tree, please."
Christine made garlands from ribbon she found in his "supply closet" or "the Opera Ghost's hoard", as she liked to call it) as well as pieces of fruit and popped corn. She hung them on the tree and Erik nodded in approval.
"Perfect, my dear."
Days 8, 9, and 10
Erik was mysteriously absent for the next three days. Christine searched the house and found that, not only was he not there, he hadn't even left a note. She was miffed the first day, but grew increasingly anxious the longer he was gone. She paced in the living room and waited for his return.
Day 11
Late in the evening of the tenth day, Christine had unintentionally fallen asleep on the couch, still waiting for her husband to come home. She woke to his voice in her ear, whispering her name. She sat up quickly.
"Erik?"
"Come to the dining room, my dear."
Christine obeyed, seeking him out, and stopped at the sight she was met with.
The dining room table was laden with food, an assortment of dishes; some she recognized and some she didn't.
"Erik, what is all this?"
"It's a Smörgåsbord." He smiled proudly at her. "There is glogg, lussebulle, kottbullar med potatismos, and other dishes from your homeland."
Christine gestured to the meat. "What is that?"
"Goat," he answered seriously.
Christine stared at him, horrified.
"I jest, Christine. It is Julskinka."
"That's not funny, Erik!" But she still took the plate he offered to her and filled it with food.
"Everything looks so good, Erik. Is this why you were gone?"
He nodded. "There are few places in Paris to procure some of the necessary ingredients. I made a short jaunt by train to Sweden and back."
"You… went to Sweden?"
He nodded.
"I wish I could have gone with you."
"Perhaps this will make up for my leaving you behind."
He rose from the table and returned with what she recognized as another dress box. She opened it and found a traditional Swedish folk dress with a blue bodice and yellow apron. She sat the dress and box aside on the table and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Oh Erik… Thank you…"
Erik slowly lifted his arms around her, holding her. "I promise… you will come with me next time."
Day 12
Erik had one final gift for her for the twelfth day, waiting for her to wake.
She emerged for breakfast in the green gown he had purchased for her, her hair tied up with a gold ribbon. He smiled at her.
"My, you look lovely this morning. God Jul, Christine."
"Merry Christmas, Erik."
He moved behind her, sliding a delicate gold chain around her neck. A locket hung at the end, and he opened it for her, revealing two tiny portraits of her parents.
"I'd thought I'd lost these…" Her eyes misted with tears. "Oh Erik…"
She embraced him, but he was ready for her this time, his arms immediately sliding around her. He held her close, reveling in the feel of Christine in his arms.
Christine rose onto her tiptoes and kissed his lips gently. Erik froze, and then began to tremble. She closed her eyes, relaxing into the kiss. A tear rolled down his cheek beneath the mask as he fought to keep from breaking into sobs.
She gave a little sigh against his lips and he was undone, returning the kiss while clutching her tightly to him.
"Christine…" He gasped for breath, breaking the kiss but still holding her close. "We aren't under any mistletoe."
"I don't need mistletoe to kiss my husband."
"Merry Christmas indeed," he murmured, before capturing her lips again.