Bit of a lapse in updates, i know. The next one will come soon though! Within the next few days. Many thanks to those who are still reading this, and to the new readers! Please review! It really helps with my process! Many thanks!
Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.
"What? How do you know them?" Christine asked; panicked.
"I... I can't explain it now." He replied nervously. "...Suffice it to say that we cannot afford to be caught..."
She tightened her hold on him. What sort of people must they be for Erik to act like this? Surely, he wasn't afraid to face anything at all..? He had faced the mob with such indifference that she had thought him impervious to the worries and anxieties of a regular man.
"What are we going to do?"
"It's alright." He called back to her. "We will lose them." Deciding against his previous plan he made an abrupt turn; steering Caesar into the forest. It was the only way. Caesar was an old horse and he was carrying a lot of weight; he had no hope of out running them.
They rushed through the forest; darting in and out of the thick greenery, evading trees and jumping over the occasional felled one. Christine held onto Erik, not loosening her grip for a second. In spite of the fear she felt, she knew that he would do everything in his power to keep her safe. Deep down, she had always known that...
After a few minutes, the calls of their pursuers began to fade into the distance and Caesar slowed under the calm yet forceful instruction of his master.
Silence.
Silence except for Caesar; exhaling audibly and circling impatiently, his hooves crushing twigs and undergrowth with every step.
His master; also out of breath, scanned the greenery for movement.
A bird chirped in the distance.
Silence.
Christine could feel his chest rising and falling with every breath; it was ragged but steady. She held onto the sound and closed her eyes.
"I can still hear them." She whispered into his back.
"I know." He breathed, allowing himself a small smile. "But we are losing them." This slight reprieve gave him room to notice that which he had neglected to before. Christine was holding him so tightly. Yes; she was afraid... but she was choosing to cling to him for comfort. That was something which he would never take for granted. He placed one hand over hers, the other holding the reins and closed his eyes. She had held him like this last night; pressed up against him, arms wrapped securely around him, but not for comfort or reassurance... purely because she wanted to. He exhaled and leaned back into her slightly. Reluctantly he opened his eyes and spoke.
"Let's go."
With the slight movement of the stirrups they were off again. They rode for a few more miles before Erik was convinced of their safety. Truly, he had doubted the plan from the beginning and doubted himself. He had known that there would be a slim chance of escape and at the sight of his old acquaintance he had momentarily lost himself. He could not afford to do that again, not while he was responsible for Christine.
"We can stop here." He said as they made their way to small clearing beside a river. "It will do for one night."
Christine peered over his shoulder at her surroundings. The river was familiar; probably just an offshoot of the Seine but she could not help but think she had visited this very spot prior to tonight.
"Are you sure?" She asked him, looking around nervously as he dismounted Caesar.
"No." He helped her down. "...But I will stay up tonight to keep watch."
"Erik, you can't keep doing that. You need sleep."
"Nonsense, Christine. I told you, I hardly sleep... And I would rather be a little fatigued than risk your life... and mine... for what that is worth."
"Firstly, the last time you told me that you hardly slept we ended up in quite a mess. And secondly... your life is worth something." She took his hand in hers. He smiled at her.
"You don't need to say those things, my dear. But thank you."
Christine rolled her eyes playfully. "I know I don't need to. How is your back? Are you in pain?" She asked, gently touching his side.
"I'll be alright." He said, removing her hand. "I will be able to rest it soon. Now... let us make a fire. In a few hours, night will be upon us."
"I used to do this with my father, you know." Christine began. Erik smiled at her, willing her to continue. He threw a piece of cheese into his mouth before picking up a stray branch and prodding the fire that glowed in front of them. He lay on his side, propped up by his elbow, Christine sat across from him. The fire crackled as she spoke. "I remember it like it was yesterday, we would pack the nicest foods we could think of and just leave. Sometimes we would travel for weeks on end, sometimes only a day or two." She looked down at the fire; eyes glistening with a particular memory she was no doubt caught in. Erik stared at her as she spoke. Was it wrong to find her so beautiful when she was so clearly upset? The fire gave her skin an inviting, orange glow and he wanted nothing more at that moment than to kiss her.
"We would eat and laugh and he would play the violin and tell me stories...We used to spend hours on end just talking... much like we are now." She looked up. "We may have visited this very spot... come to think of it." Erik stared at her for a moment longer before clearing his throat and speaking.
"I'm sorry that you lost him. He seemed like... a wonderful man." He could not believe that after all they had gone through he had never offered her something as simple as his condolences. The selfish part of him could not help but think that he and Christine would never have met had it not been for Gustave Daae and he cursed himself for it. "I would have liked to have met him." He added.
He had not known Christine's father.
He had never met him.
Surely now... Christine knew that? He knew that at some point he would have to explain himself; explain everything. Who he was, why he had deceived her, why it had gone on for so long... In all of what they had been through over the past few days, it had all simply slipped his mind and it must have slipped hers too. But he knew that he needed to explain himself. He owed her the truth. If anything real was going to eventuate between them, she needed to know. Soon enough, she would ask about it and he would simply have to be prepared for that moment.
"Yes." She smiled, hastily wiping away tears as if to hide them from him. "He would have liked you, I expect."
Erik doubted it. There was no way that any respectable father would approve of how he had treated Christine... No way at all.
He had claimed at one point to be her father...
Claimed to be an angel sent by her father...
He had lied to her for so long and it was eating away at him...
What if he were to address it now?
No, not now. Don't spoil this moment.
Deciding to take the easy way out for now, he simply smiled at her again and prodded the fire absentmindedly.
Suddenly, he remembered what he had brought with him.
"I could play for you, if you'd like." He offered, removing his jacket and cravat. Yes, in doing this he was unintentionally likening himself to her father and he had decided that he didn't want to remind her of the past... his deceit. But if helping her to reminisce would bring her comfort then that was what he would do.
"Play?"
"Yes..." He smiled. Still lying down, he reached into the small, makeshift tent he had built for her and pulled out a violin. "I brought this with me..." He scoffed. "It seems trivial, doesn't it? Truthfully, It... was just one of the first things that came to me when packing."
She smiled. Of course it was. That was one of the things she loved about him; one of the signs telling her that she had made the right decision; music. Her love for music was matched only by Erik.
"I would love for you to play for me." She said,
"Alright." He said, sitting up. "What would you like me to play?"
"Surprise me." She said to which he raised an eyebrow and nodded.
From the moment he began, she was enraptured.
She watched his face change as the music did; his expression switched from that of elation to one that was almost consternation. At some parts he looked at her, seemingly directing the music at her. At other times as the music swelled he simply closed his eyes, completely and utterly lost in the one thing that had always brought him joy.
After a few minutes, the music slowed and stopped.
"That... was beautiful."
Erik lowered the violin and stared at it as he responded; seemingly entranced by what it had done, rather than what he had.
"It was Chopin; a piece from his cello concerto in G minor... Albeit it should be played on a cello and it was only a piece of the full number..."
"It was beautiful." She repeated.
"I wish that I could take credit for it, but, alas I cannot. It was not my work."
"But you played it beautifully... You're so talented. I can't believe that I haven't said that to you until now." He set the violin aside without looking at her.
"Thank you for that." She said.
"You're very welcome." Finally, he looked up. "Are you warm enough?"
He was changing the subject...
"You don't take compliments well, do you?"
"You must forgive me. I am not accustomed to hearing them... nor do I need them. My achievements are for my own gratification."
"Don't do that."
"What?"
"Don't put that wall up. Not for me. Save it for other people. It isn't for me, is it?"
"...No."
"Well, I'm the only one here." She stared at him until he met her gaze. "Will you play me something else?"
A slight smile on his face, he lifted his violin to his chin once more.
"What will it be this time... some Gounod perhaps? Mozart?"
"Will... you play me something of yours?"
His eyes narrowed as he was taken back to that night; the night of Don Juan Triumphant. Recalling the last time she had witnessed his own work, he decided against it.
"No... I don't think so." He said softly, lowering his violin. Her face fell. Part of her had not expected him to deny her wish.
"Why not...?" She asked, crestfallen.
"Not this time, Christine." He reached placed it on the ground beside him. "I don't think that's wise."
Christine sighed; knowing that this was another instance where she would just have to accept Erik's vague answer and not pursue it. If her time with him had taught her anything, it was that he would explain himself in time... In his own time.
"Will you come and sit with me at least?"
"You aren't warm enough?"
"I am warm enough, Erik. I just want you to sit with me."
"Oh..." He got up and walked to her side of the fire. She held her hand out to him which he shakily took and sat down next to her, cross-legged. She held onto his arm, entwining her fingers in his.
"I'll get us through this safely, Christine. I promise you."
"I know you will." She said, resting her head on his shoulder. She trusted him... she did. But she would feel better knowing who the enemy was; surely a little information was not too much to ask? "Erik?" she asked apprehensively.
"Mmm?" He was staring into the fire pensively.
"I'm not sure if I should ask this... Or if you will even answer me..."
"What is it?" He said, looking down at her.
"I want to know who they are. I do feel safe with you... but I would feel better with some information..."
"Yes." He sighed. "I was afraid you would ask that. You have every right to know." He said, squeezing her hand affectionately. "Don't ever feel as if you shouldn't ask me something."
"I... just know that you're quite private and... a lot of the time when I ask about your past you just switch off."
"...For good reason." He mumbled under his breath. "This... is hard to talk about, you understand. Most of my past is."
"Well, I want to know if you want to tell me." She rubbed his arm reassuringly.
"I... don't really know where to start."
"Just start where you feel comfortable..."
He scoffed.
Comfortable?
He took a deep breath and nodded. He would start from the beginning...
