Disclaimer: I am neither Andrew Lloyd Webber nor Gaston Leroux.
Author Note: Heehee, I do love a bit of E/C fluff! Well I do hope you're in the mood for more happy relationship development as this chapter is the cutesy-Erik-and-Christine-become-friends chapter :-D
Thank you so much to the usual suspects, my lovely reviewers; TMara, Filhound, ListenToTheRainS2 and MarilynKC. As always, it's brilliant to hear what your thoughts are on the story and all reviews are very much appreciated- particularly your predictions for what could be the cause of this strange situation :-) So again, thank you!
Are you ready for some fluffy trust building? 'Cos it's time for chapter seven!
P.S - This chapter was originally two, which explains its length. I didn't want to have more than one chapter based solely on trust building as it might have become a little tedious. :-)
Seven- Trust
It was a bright, clear and pleasantly warm morning, with the rolling green landscape spread out either side of the dusty track and the immense canvas of blue sky littered with wisps of cloud smiling happily down at the rumbling, lumbering procession as it jolted and juddered along. The sun was still low in the sky, the watery rays only just kissing the earth but warming everything it touched, including the faces of the riders as they eased their horses along, content with the lethargic pace for now as they savoured the sunshine.
Erik, far too tired to whinge about the bright sunlight or even to complain bitterly that they were moving at barely a walking pace, stifled another huge yawn and shifted the reigns from one hand to the other and fought against his drooping eyelids. The horse, sensing his fatigue and weakness in the saddle, weaved its head uncertainly and skittered a little, making Erik sit suddenly bolt upright as he feared that he might actually fall asleep in the saddle and fall to the ground as the procession continued its lumbering crawl without him. He doubted that anyone would notice that one horse seemed to have lost a rider somewhere along the way- many of the gypsies would disappear and turn up later at the camp with no real reason or explanation as to why- and the irritable part of Erik's mind threw up the paranoid idea that Nadir would simply laugh and continue the ride, leaving him sprawled asleep in the dust to be trampled by whatever passed him by.
Nadir, who was not tired as his companion was and was at total ease on his relaxed mount, grinned to himself as he saw Erik's thin shoulders begin to sag again. He decided, with a slightly wicked chuckle, that he might as well make the most of Erik's weariness and complete lack of energy, as today his friend's usual fearsome wrath would not surface- even if he had not been half asleep, he would still be mellow and easy, warmed by music and the company of Christine that he had experienced last night. Nadir was resourceful, and he fully intended to utilise this lapse in violent temper as far as he could.
"Come, come Erik. Stay awake or you'll fall of your horse." He teased wickedly, earning an exasperated look and a weak dig from one of Erik's sharply pointed elbows. "But I suppose it can't be helped- this is what you get if you stay awake all night, singing with Christine. I do believe that she is sleeping now in one of the caravans...perhaps you should join her?"
A leafy branch came sailing through the air and smacked Nadir right in the face, but Erik was laughing as he made this attack and soon Nadir was too, smiling in a slightly smug manner as he watched Erik sigh and turn his head up to the soft blue of the sky, his eyes lingering on the cotton wool clouds. It warmed Nadir's heart, as sentimental and patronising as it sounded, to see Erik so happy and mellow after so long spent under the clinging cloud of depression and anxiety. The last year of searching and constant worrying as to whether Christine was alive or dead had taken its toll on Erik, and Nadir hadn't realised how badly until they had joined the clan- Pali was a skinny and scrawny little man, but when Erik stood beside him it made him look normal and Erik like a living skeleton. Nadir had also noticed, from stealing concerned glances whenever Erik took his mask off to allow fresh air to reach the warped flesh, that the skin underneath that harsh barrier was red and inflamed as it had never been before. Whether it was from the dirty conditions, or stress or something else altogether Nadir did not know, but he knew it was hurting Erik to wear his mask now and such a thing was making Nadir feel dreadful whenever he looked at his companion.
So to see Erik this calm and content was a sight to savour. It wasn't just Erik who had benefitted though- Nadir had noticed that during the performance last night, the smile on Christine's face had grown wider and brighter with each song they played, gazing at Erik with a kind of awe that had shocked even Pali, surprised at how quickly the girl was trusting Erik and looking up to him as some kind of guardian amongst the gypsies. Of course, seeing such a successful development had made Nadir terribly irritated too, smacking Pali hard about the head and berating him for planting the idea to lie in Erik's vulnerable head. Pali's idea to take advantage of the girl's memory loss and to pretend to be the perfect lover was calculated genius, and had Nadir been a supporter of foul play- or had not been a spectator to how all Erik's own tricks had come round to haunt him- he might have been in awe of the gangly gypsy. But as it stood, Nadir prided himself on having enough of a conscience for himself and for Erik, and with this he fully intended to advertise the honest plan wholeheartedly.
Pali had commented last night, when faced with Nadir's annoyed wrath and having just been belted about the head, that surely the only really honest way of going about this would be to simply tell Christine Daae the whole grisly truth and not hide anything from her- of course this had not made Nadir feel in any way disheartened, as to do such a thing would be the work of a madman, or perhaps a warped sadist. An emotionally unstable, not to mention terrified, young woman such as Christine Daae would be utterly shattered to learn such a history in one violent attack. No- for now, what they were doing was the best thing, and Nadir was so sure of this that he sat happily back in the saddle and returned to watching Erik with amused eyes, snickering when the low hanging leaves trailed in his friends face and startled him out of his half-conscious droop.
The huge, rumbling procession stuck resolutely to the dirt track and then to the dusty roads, horses lumbering and plodding with no real haste, the wooden wheels of the carts and caravans creaking and complaining as they jolted and bumped over stones and dips in the uneven terrain. Erik, perhaps turned half mad with the exhaustion and desperate to wake himself up, suddenly decided that he could not stand this tortuously slow pace any longer- with a low snarl of irritation, he urged his horse onwards and up onto the grassy banks, making for a wider open space of damp, muddy greenery. Once there he lowered himself close to the horses neck and spurred his mount onwards, into a fast paced gallop across the greenery, violently throwing up great clods of mud as the horses hooves pounded against the saturated ground. Nadir, startled by this sudden explosion of energy and valiantly trying to follow his mad friend, was completely covered by the mud and grass but harshly told himself to ignore it.
He contented himself with following at a slower pace, watching as Erik- who had always loved his horse, in a manner that seemed a little odd for such an angry man- galloped into the breeze, letting it take all his worries and thoughts away and into the open air, shouting in jubilation as the horse pranced and jumped for no reason save its own pleasure. Nadir watched this spectacle with a paternal smile, saying nothing when Erik returned to the lethargic procession with red cheeks and sparkling eyes, happy with the silence and the rhythmic sound of hooves on firm ground beneath them.
They were heading for the South of France this time, the temperature change so gradual that they did not notice it as the day and journey progressed. Nadir was excitably anticipating the humid air and perhaps sunshine that actually made the Earth hot and sleepy, hoping that such weather would remind him of home and satisfy that slight ache he always felt when recalling the hot, vibrant days of his youth that seemed to belong in another world, far away from the drizzly, colourless grey that seemed to form most of France.
They passed through several small villages, the people coming out onto the cobbled streets to wave and call out to the passing gypsies, and to Nadir's complete surprise Erik found smiles for those who talked to him, even calling a greeting out to a few who said hello or waved with particular energy. It was a sight that made absolutely no sense to Nadir and yet filled him with such a sense of relief and joy he could not help but comment on it once they were well away from the little stone villages and their smiling inhabitants, even though he knew that Erik would not like to talk about it and would accuse the Persian of being purposefully annoying and patronising.
"I saw you amongst those people, and I saw a different Erik." He said in a soft, low voice, looking up at the sky and seeing that it was now streaked with the orange sunset, looking mythical and magical and like something that should exist on a canvas, the work of some brilliant artist not just the daily occurrences of the natural world. Erik looked up, instantly suspicious, but not annoyed or threatening. "It was very pleasing to see."
"I'm not sure I understand what you are mumbling about, Khan." Erik replied wearily, sensing that Nadir was about to say something utterly stupid yet well meaning. It was something he always claimed to loathe about the Persian, yet he knew he would miss it if Nadir were gone.
"You were so natural and friendly and calm with those villagers." Nadir continued gently. "You know that such a thing is astounding, considering that you lived alone, in a cellar, isolated from humanity and hating all humanity for well over ten years at a time!"
"I was not alone- I saw you and tutored Christine." Erik muttered, neglecting to mention that the Persian had met with Erik more often than not due to his curious investigations ending with him being trapped in one of Erik's many defences against such intrusions needing rescue from Erik himself, or that the tutoring had occurred through the wall with Christine believing him to be an Angel.
"That is hardly humanity- and anyway, there is no need to look so defensive, Erik, you oaf! I meant it as a compliment, you know; I'm happy that you're happy."
Erik pulled a face and did not reply. When at last they reached the chosen site for the gypsy camp, and began to unload the various carts and string up the lopsided tents, Nadir saw that there was a troubled look in Erik's eyes- a thoughtful look that normally appeared when he was thinking too much about something and blowing it completely out of proportion. He went to say something, but then realised that it was probably his comment from earlier that had provoked such a strange behaviour. As soon as the camp was set up, Nadir saw Erik go into the tent- presumably to sleep- and once he was gone the Persian went to hunt down Pali, in desperate need of company to make him laugh and take away the images of Erik's troubled eyes from his mind.
The next morning...
"Errrriiiiiiiik!"
A shrill, annoyingly enthusiastic and exceedingly irritating voice pierced the silence of the tent and buzzed painfully in Erik's ear, shattering the warm state of sleep in which he had been happily oblivious. The pain that shot down his right ear, entirely unexpectedly, was so great that in that dazed moment he was convinced that the noise could well have caused his eardrum to explode. With a snarl, he batted at the air, trying to rid himself of this pest making such a horrid shriek. But this did not work- the tortuous noise echoed on and on and was closely followed by drops of shockingly cold water being dripped onto his forehead.
Startled, surprised and beyond angry Erik shot up from the blanket he had been laying on and grabbed Pali- clearly the only person mad enough to be such a pest- by the neck and squeezed hard, his irritation heightened by the ache in his muscles that could only be the result of a day's riding and a nights tossing and turning. His muscles screamed in pain and Pali gagged a little, looking decidedly worried as his gesticulations became frantic and panicked, forcing Erik to relent and let go off his scrawny neck with an annoyed hiss.
"I take it you are not a morning person, then?" Pali immediately said, his voice annoyingly cheerful- the panicked expression and gestures had clearly been staged to make Erik let go of him. Erik massaged his temples wearily, not knowing what time it could be but certain that it was far too early for social visits or for such energy.
"Do shut up, you irritating little rat, and get on with whatever trivial thing you wanted to say." Erik hissed, wincing as his joints creaked. "And if there is no good reason for such madness, I'll-"
"Christine asked me to fetch you."
Suddenly it was as if the rude awakening or the pain in his muscles had never occurred- Erik was up and off the floor, dashing around and frantically pulling at his crumpled clothes, trying desperately to find clean garments in the mess of bags and blankets all over the floor. Pali was now massaging his neck with exaggerated reactions, grimacing and groaning with some terrible pain until Erik had no choice but to stop panicking about where his possessions were in favour of throwing something at the gypsy's head.
"Ouch." The skinny, wild haired man complained, flopping down onto the scattered cushions with a sigh of annoyance. "You would think, really, that being called upon by your darling soprano might just cheer you up and make you a little more pleasant towards the dear friend who bothered to relay such a message to you, you old grouch."
"I have cheered up." Erik replied easily, ignoring the face that Pali pulled and straightening his dark jacket , immaculate and forbidding as always. He always had been that way, dressing formally even in the cellars and catacombs of the opera house, not caring that the walls oozed a mouldy, musty stench as long as his clothes were formal, presentable and as perfect as he could make them. It was not a matter of vanity, more a deluded attempt at self preservation that had never truly worked, and yet he still religiously stuck to his age old routine even now. Pali muttered something unintelligible, which made Erik whirl round and fix him with a firm stare. "Pali, why did Christine ask for me?"
Pali heard the excitement and suppressed joy in his friend's voice and hid a smile, happy with the knowledge that Erik was well and truly infatuated with this odd, lonely woman who apparently had much more of a past with him than anyone could have guessed. The attraction was, in some ways, quite obvious; Christine Daae was a beautiful young woman with amazing talent, and Pali supposed that she was quite a pleasant person. But Pali knew, just from the look in Erik's eyes, that his love for the girl went beyond a pretty face and a nice personality- he was captivated, obsessed, utterly enthralled by her and Pali, in honesty, could not see why.
"I don't truthfully know why, Erik." He declared airily. "She approached me when I came back into the camp this morning- I went into the town to buy a few items- and when she came up to me she asked me where you were, how you were. I told her that you had been very tired, and had retired to bed very early last night, and she requested that when you woke I might ask you to meet her by the trees towards the back of the camp, by that hill...she seemed very chirpy, Erik- she actually smiled at me!"
"And she gave no reasons to see me?" Erik frowned.
"None whatsoever- but it can hardly be a bad thing, can it?"
Erik did not bother to reply to the overzealous Pali, nodding a thank you and goodbye before ducking out of the warm, stuffy interior of the sagging tent and into the trees and the biting breeze. It was another bright day, the air colder and crisp too, stinging a little as the breeze kissed Erik's warm and flushed face, shocking him awake and into a sense of anticipation as he began to make the journey to the place Pali had described, where Christine was supposedly waiting for him. The weak sunlight was watery and pathetic as ever, still blinding as Erik looked up the sky unaware that the sun was still so low. He cursed it with venom, wanting nothing more than the comfort of darkness and a serene moon, with its pearly glimmer and sympathetic gaze.
Muttering to himself and still vexed by Pali's continually stupid behaviour, Erik found the hill that the gypsy must have been ranting about and began to walk up the steep slope, the grass still dewy and damp and making his feet slip a little. Cursing, he made the short walk and arrived at the crest of the muddy slope, wincing and bringing his arm up to shield his delicate eyes from the merciless sting of that pathetic sunlight. As soon as his eyes, narrowed in futile hope of reducing the discomfort brought by the wretched sun, saw Christine waiting at the bottom of the hill the curses ceased to form on his lips, and the bad thoughts seemed to blow away into the breeze that whipped about him.
Seeing Christine made Erik change his opinion of the harsh sunlight immediately; those weak, pathetic rays that caused him such aggravation brought everything about her to life- her moonbeam white skin seemed radiant and glowing, the tumbling brown curls suddenly shimmering with a thousand different shades and when she turned round to see him standing there her eyes sparkled like diamonds. Erik prided himself on being someone who could value what lay beneath the exterior of a person, beautiful or hideous, but even his firm resolve was crumbling just from looking at her like this. He stood in slack-jawed astonishment, drinking in the look of pure delight that filled her face as she saw that it was him stood there, trying to fix the image of that gorgeous smile permanently in his mind so that it would be the only thing he saw when he closed his eyes.
She waved at him, laughing at herself for being such a fool, beckoning him towards her with all the carefree teasing of a young woman toying with a young man whom she admired- Erik felt his own rare smile creep onto his face and he began to walk swiftly down the hill, making a conscious effort not to trip and fall in the mud, his hands trembling- mentally, he cursed himself for being such a blathering idiot.
"Christine. Good morning." He sounded nervous and hesitant, even to his own ears, and Christine bit her lip to disguise a laugh. Erik didn't know why she was so happy this morning, or so happy to be around him- last night, although she had seemed very comfortable around him as they sang together, she hadn't been this happy. "Pali came screaming into my tent earlier, telling me that you had asked to see me-"
The happy look on Christine's face faded alarmingly quickly, instead becoming a look of embarrassment and apologetic horror, her hands flying to her mouth.
"Oh my goodness, I'm- I'm so sorry!" she gasped, going bright pink. "I didn't mean for him to wake you like that! I only asked that he-"
Erik held up his hands to try and stop her before she knelt and grovelled at his feet, a little shocked by how horrified she was to learn that her actions might have caused his discomfort- he had never experienced such a sense of care before, with Nadir too busy lecturing him and Pali too busy being stupid. Although he was amused by how aghast she seemed, he also felt a little unnerved by it.
"It's fine, Christine, honestly- I know Pali very well. He would have done such a thing anyway, request or no request." Erik offered with a smile, and Christine removed her hands from her face with a sheepish expression. "Now, what was it that you wanted with me?"
Christine coloured again, a pretty shade of pink, and she seemed a little embarrassed.
"I...I only wanted to ask you, seeing as we don't have anything that needs to be done until the evening...I presume you are free in the daytime- I mean...I..." she trailed off, sounding nervous. "I only wondered if you...if you would perhaps like to- to spend the day with me." With the words finally spoken, she seemed to find something in her speech that was demanding or embarrassing or foolish, suddenly starting to speak again at a mile a minute, stumbling and tripping over the words in her haste. "You don't have to, of course! I- I don't even really know what I am planning on doing, I only though it might be good to get to know each other as we will be singing together- but there is no need! You probably have other things-"
"Christine." Erik cut her off with a soft smile, and she peeked at him through a curtain of thick brown hair. "It would be a pleasure to spend the day with you. I would like that, very much"
The smile that filled Christine Daae's face that morning did not leave her in the weeks that followed the conversation in the bright, dewy morning- as the time passed and spring bloomed into its full, flowering glory, the light and the warmth of the days seemed to reflect her mood. She seemed brighter and happier every day, going around the gypsy camp with a skip in her step and a huge smile on her face, happy to talk and laugh with all those she had previously avoided and tried to ignore.
The girl who had, for a whole year spent with the clan, been a desperately lonely recluse was blooming- a rose amongst the coarse brambles and thorns. But flowers do not bloom on their own, as people do not change of their own accord, and as Nadir stood listening to Christine singing one warm evening, accompanied by a mournful violin, the reason for her change in emotion and attitude was clear; Erik.
To the delight of the cautious Persian and the hyperactive gypsy, Erik and Christine had spent every day since their early morning hillside conversation in each other's company- it had started with extended rehearsals that might occupy a few idle hours, or perhaps a brief walk in the surrounding countryside or a trip to the nearest village. When Christine made some passing comment about a particular little stream or dense expanse of forest, the next day Erik would find some excuse to take her to these places. When he discovered that Christine could not ride a horse, it suddenly became essential that Erik should take her out into the open air for days on end, encouraging and teaching her until she could gallop freely into the wind, laughing as the exhilaration coursed through her veins and made her feel as free as the birds that soared above her the soft blue of the skies.
She and Erik could disappear on horseback or on foot for hours and hours, escaping the camp to explore the awaiting world around them, returning with only minutes to spare before they were supposed to sing for the paying crowds, making Pali jittery with nerves and Nadir suspicious with worry. Neither the Persian nor the gypsy would ever admit that they were curious for details and a little more than displeased that Erik would never reveal anything when they bombarded him with hundreds of questions, one after the other in a rapid onslaught of curiosity, hoping that he might reveal even the most trivial detail to appease them enough to make them be quiet. Whenever they pleaded with him for information, even just to ask if he had enjoyed the time spent with Christine, Erik would merely smile mysteriously and look away.
"You know, Nadir, I bet that he and Christine have become nicely reacquainted in these hours spent together- he's quite the Don Juan, seducing her so easily." Pali murmured to Nadir on one occasion, hoping to provoke a response from Erik- his mood had been increasingly mellow with so much time spent with Christine. Erik merely sent a playful wallop in Pali's direction and no information was revealed.
Over the weeks Pali grew less interested and soon the fact that Erik withheld such details from him no longer affected him, but Nadir was still curious. Part of the desire to know the facts was down to pure curiosity, that was true, but Nadir also felt a little hurt- they had planned this together, as a trio, and even if Erik did not want to share his intimate thoughts with Pali he had hoped that he might still confide in his most loyal companion. There was, of course, also the concern that Erik's lies might be spiralling out of control and Nadir, not knowing what had been said between them, could not reassure himself that this was not the case. Teaching the girl to horse ride and talking about music was one thing, but with each day that the friendship between Erik and Christine deepened the ability to go back and be honest was taken further and further out of reach. Now, if Christine did recall her past with no prompt utterly randomly, she would be faced with the fact that Erik had befriended her and not told her the truth- such a thing suggested that he was using her memory loss to his advantage, which (Nadir gritted his teeth) he was.
Erik was aware that Nadir was burning with curiosity, and yet was too scared to pester him for details, and he found such a thing hilarious.
On one particularly sunny day, when he and Christine had decided to go for a leisurely walk as the air was far too hot and sticky for riding, he laughed aloud as he recalled the Persian's expression from last night's carefully worded question bombardment, and this had caused Christine to ask him how he knew Nadir, and Pali. As they walked together in the gentle warmth, Erik therefore entertained her with the funnier tales of his time spent with Nadir or Pali, altering a few details such as the location and the reason such events had occurred, but keeping all other details the same. It was very comforting to be able to tell something to Christine that held some truth in and to receive laughter and smiles in return.
There was still a definite awkwardness between them, as Erik had suspected there would be even on that first day when she had dared to make the shy request- Christine was very aware of the fact that their sudden friendship, and her sudden dependence on Erik, was very odd but she enjoyed the company of someone else who was an outsider to the point that awkwardness did not matter. She was still a little uneasy as to why she felt as if she had known Erik for far longer than a few weeks, and often found herself questioning if she should be so happy and comfortable to spend such long periods of time alone with this one stranger. Erik, too, was often far from relaxed in these days spent in the company of Christine; it was a constant battle to find the medium between acting too comfortable and intimate with her and acting too cold and withdrawn from his efforts to appear a stranger and on more than one occasion Christine had looked perplexed and eve n slightly offended as he tried desperately to play his role faultlessly.
But, despite the tension and the unease, they got on well and Erik was starting to succumb to the sweet sense of optimism. On that sunny day, as they walked and talked and she laughed at his countless tales, she found a large tree and flopped down in the cool shade beneath the leafy canopy, her eyes and ears still intently fixed on him as he finished his story.
"...and so by the time Nadir finally managed to decide which carriage the thief had taken, it was already thundering down the streets and we had no hope of chasing it. Nadir fell and broke his leg and I had to argue with the shop owners, in Italian, for twenty minutes just to convince them that I was not the man responsible for smashing their entire weeks produce." Erik finished the story with an airy wave of his hand, making Christine laugh. "Nadir has always been useless in the spur of the moment- appalling at making split decisions, incapable of being at all cunning or agile. He is utterly useless with his hands, too- he can barely hold my violin properly, let alone attempt to play something that doesn't resemble a dying animal. He has such dainty hands, too...such a waste, for he has the delicacy of an elephant and the ability of a slug."
"A slug?! But they don't even have hands, Erik!" Christine giggled.
"Precisely." Erik grinned in return, holding up his own long fingered , skeletal hands before his face, scrutinising the translucent, ghostly white skin and his calloused fingertips. His whole life was made bearable by these hands- hands that could write, hands that could make music, hands that could build...hands that, for one brief snatch of paradise a year ago, had brushed the face and hair of Christine Daae. They meant such a lot to him, and yet they were far from stunning. "Though my own hands are far from dainty- soon they will have forgotten what a piano feels like. The violin can be so painful on the fingertips after a while..."
Encouraged by the theme of the conversation, Christine looked down at her own hands, small and pale though now cracked and well worked, the nails short and a little dirty, stained with the grime that came from clearing away the charred remains of fires and helping to shift logs, or even from washing and sewing. Had she ever had elegant, soft, clean and dainty hands- ladies hands? She noticed that Erik staring at her, puzzling over her troubled expression, so before he could voice any concern and allow her to dwell on her needless pessimism she moved to sit a little closer to him, taking both of his hands and flipping them so that they lay palm up. She took his left hand in her own and, using the fingers of her right, began to trace lines on his exposed palm.
"I've been with the clan for over a year now- I have picked up on some tricks and truths of the gypsy culture." She intoned in a mysterious voice, peering down at his cool hand and tracing invisible lines.
"Don't tell me you will be so typical as to palm read?" Erik scorned her with a smile, to show that he was teasing and also to hide the erratic beat of his heart that he was sure she must hear, being so close to him. It felt like some form of tortuous bliss, testing his patience and composure to sit and feel her trace her gentle fingers all over his palm, her face so close to his that he could smell the astonishingly pleasant scent of herbs and wood smoke that clung to her clothes and hair.
"Don't be so scathing, Erik! The lines on your palm can reveal a great deal of your future!" Christine scolded him with a wicked grin, finding a line on his ghostly white palm and deciding in that moment that it meant something very important. With an exaggerated cry she prodded his palm and stared into his eyes with mock solemnity. "Oh, dear me, it would seem that your future is a troubled one. There will come a point, in the near future, when you will have to decide between what you desire and what is right- things will never be the same again!"
"You're a fraud." Erik replied smoothly. "If I had paid money for this, I would demand a full refund."
"Indeed, I am a complete fraud and have no idea what i am talking about, as I expect is the same for all the others who do this in the clan." She replied proudly, smiling. "I hope that my reading is utter rubbish, Erik, and that your future is bright. You deserve it more than most, I think."
Funny, Christine thought with a wistful sigh as she allowed Erik to take his hands back, most people would be desperate to know their future, to know what lies waiting in the next chapter of their life as if it were already written for them and I only want to know my past- the one thing we should all know.
It was as if the melancholy thought had formed a grey raincloud that now hung miserably over her, dulling her good mood. For although she had been happier, much happier, as of late, she was still plagued by terrifying nightmares and was still shaken by the horror of them. There was real terror lurking in those sinister dreams, a real terror that she could not justify and it was this that made her wonder if she actually wanted to understand her past- it terrified her to think that she might have encountered such horrific things that still held enough power to make her tremble with fear, and yet she did not know a thing about them.
Erik suddenly pulled her out of her depressed musings by taking hold of her hands, holding them and turning them over in the same way she had taken his, his eyes peering intently down at the limp hand he held in his warm grip. She gave a small gasp, taken by surprise, and his burning eyes stole a quick look into her own before returning to her upturned palm.
"Erik?" she asked, suddenly realising how intimate this gesture was- she hadn't noticed when it was her doing the mock palm reading, but now that it was her having her hand stroked and probed with gentle fingertips she felt a blush creep over her innocent face. "Erik, you can't tell me that now that you want to palm read."
"I'm not palm reading." He said distantly, still examining her hand and making her heart flip over in her chest with the sensation of his fingertips tracing a line on her calloused palm. "I'm going to show you what skilled people may do with the palms- I'm going to tell you about yourself and your past, simply by looking at your hands. I'm not very good at this, as it requires great skill and many years of practice, but let's see..." he paused as he traced her palm again, and Christine found that she was leaning forward slightly, her heart pounding and her lips white with nervous anticipation, as if Erik might suddenly be able to reveal her whole past just from looking at one grubby hand. "Your hands are calloused, and we know that this is because of your work in the clan, but look- they are newly calloused, still sore and not yet acclimatised to the hard work; so, you once had soft hands that were not involved in heavy work. Your nails are strong and healthy- well, it sounds obvious, but you must have good health in general. The fingers are slender and long...suggesting the ability to play a musical instrument, though of course you already know that you can...and here, look, a scar on the heel of your hand- from a childhood fall or game, perhaps? There is no indication of an engagement ring, but-"
"Oh, stop it, you mad fool!" Christine began to laugh, gently taking her hands away, a little chilled that Erik had known somehow that she would be more interested in the past than vague guesses about the future. "Engagement ring?! Why would I have been abandoned and taken by gypsies if I had some sort of lover?"
"Maybe...maybe he was injured too, as you were, and was not able to help you in time." Erik murmured quietly, almost to himself.
"I don't know, it's a complete mystery to me." Christine sighed again, still wistful but happier. "So my hands were once fine and beautiful-"
"Christine, they still are."
As soon as the words were out, Erik knew that they were too much, especially accompanied by his intense, anguished stare. Christine went bright red and shifted uneasily where she sat, as if uncomfortable. Wishing that he could go back a few moments and pull himself together, Erik tried to mend the damage he had caused.
"What I meant is-"
"No, stop. Please." Christine shook her head, her voice firm. "That was terribly rude of me- all I can offer in my defence is that most people are not as kind as you, so I am not used to compliments and kindness. Thank you, Erik."
Most days came and went in the same amiable fashion; outings, conversations, learning and rehearsing various songs and then singing every evening, serenading the moon, the crowds and- though none of them mentioned it- each other. Normally the crowds would linger in the camp until well past midnight, and so the songs would have to last until such times also, but one evening when there were less people than usual Erik and Christine took the chance to sit down for a few minutes beside the flickering tendrils of a small campfire, enjoying the homely scent of wood smoke and basking in the heat, savouring the pleasant sounds of crackling and spitting wood. They were talking about nothing in particular when Christine said something that chilled Erik to the bone.
He had prompted the comment, of course, stupidly. He should have known.
"You look tired, Christine. Do you find it difficult to sleep at night?"
"No." She replied in a soft voice, the orange flames flickering in her brown eyes, making her look like a fairy creature out of a myth. "I can fall asleep without trouble- but I...oh, it sounds so terribly silly. I always wake myself up crying, in a sweat, panicked...and then I can't get back to sleep."
"Why?"
"Nightmares."
The word alone had sent warning shivers down his spine; cold fingers jabbing him sharply, warning him not to be such a fool and ask the question dancing on the tip of his tongue. But it was as if he could no longer control what he said- he asked the question, knowing full well what reply he would be given after hearing a few details from Pali. What he didn't realise was how terrible it would make him feel to hear it from her personally and see the emotion play out in those eyes he loved so much.
"What are they about?"
"Oh, more nonsense really- silly things that should not affect me so much." She tried to laugh it off, shivering as fear clouded her eyes. "Darkness. Terror. And- this sounds odd- but...as if I am trapped in some sort of cave, encased underground, unable to break free and escape into the light even though I want to. And in the cave, in this underground darkness, there is a voice- a man's voice, though hard to understand and hard to comprehend as it is twisted with rage and fury and insanity. The voice bellows at me, screaming that I can- can never leave. And then...then the voice c-cracks and sh-shatters and starts to sob my name. Then, I wake up." She shook her head sharply, as if trying to shake the images from her mind and trying to stop herself from trembling and stuttering over the words. "I can never tell which bit is the worst, what part makes me so afraid and so upset- the fear and the screaming and the darkness, or that terrible sobbing that fills me with sadness and guilt-! It scares me, Erik! I do not know where such a horrible dream could have come from and yet it never leaves me; every night, without fail, it seizes me with terror and I wake crying and terrified as if I am in that underground prison and the man is really screaming and sobbing beside me."
And what could Erik ever hope to say in response to that? He felt his tongue go dry and prickly and at once he knew with blinding certainty that he could do no more than make sympathetic noises and change the subject of the conversation as quickly as he could, still feeling nauseous as he found the trace of fear left in those wide, pleading eyes. There was no disputing it, no way of pretending that the truth was something else- all she remembered of him (and she didn't know it was him, thank goodness, despite that fact that it was his voice screaming at her) was now forming a dreadful nightmare.
Erik spent a few miserable days in the clutches of depression, trying in vain to think of a way to stop himself from dwelling on this less than savoury fact and also trying to think of how he could stop Christine being so terrified. She was made to do more chores about the camp than usual, due to another girl being too sick to work, so Erik did not even have the distraction of her company to make him feel any less melancholy. He paced and ranted and fell into bouts of gloomy silence, so mad with his own manic deliberation that he resorted to asking Nadir and Pali for advice. Such a request ended badly- he throttled the gangly gypsy as he smirked like a schoolboy and suggested disgustingly inappropriate ways to "cheer up" Christine, and Nadir could only offer insults.
"Ignore Pali and stop pacing about like a child! Stop this hysteria and use your brain, Erik, for goodness sakes! You have all the time in the world and there is no need to be so dreadfully hideous to us both after all we have done for you! Perhaps if you stopped lying to her, you wouldn't feel so terribly guilt all the time."
After that icy comment, Erik had reached the end of his patience. Knowing he was likely to punch one of them if he remained in their company, he stormed out of the camp and into the fresh air, kicking at the grass and grinding any flowers underfoot as he stormed along with a face like thunder. In his bad mood, Erik found himself angrily questioning what he was even doing, why he was even bothering. If one thing was evident from Christine's nightmares, it was that she was never going to recall the Opera Ghost with a blissful smile- if snatches of memories that were far from the full truth had the capacity to terrify her to such an extent, what would fully recalling the past do to her and- Erik let out a low hiss- to their relationship?
Recalling the night of Don Juan- the night that seemed to belong to another life, another world- just made the whole situation seem far too perfect and unrealistic. She had kissed him and proclaimed to love him even though he had tormented her, scared her and was in competition with another man who, by common standards, was the perfect Prince Charming. It was a fact he had refused to dwell on whilst searching for her, knowing that her safety was far more important than who she loved, but now he had found her and in such extreme circumstances, Erik was met with the terrifying question- what did he actually want?
Did he want to restore her memories, to become the Phantom again? She might love him, but she would always remember what he was capable of, what his insanity had led to- there would, no doubt, always be a part of her that would question if he really was a changed man, or what life would have been if she were a Vicomtess on the arm of her rich, gentlemanly fop. Their love would always be tainted by the dark roots from which it had bloomed and Erik did not know if he could force himself to willingly choose that.
But if this guilt, this terrible guilt, was only the result of a few careful lies...what horror would come from rebuilding a new false life? Could love really be called love, if it was the result of lies and manipulation?
When Erik returned to the camp he sat in miserable silence, not engaging in conversation with either Nadir or Pali as they gently tried to coax him with teasing and humour. He did not react when Nadir became frustrated and angry, throwing accusations and being held back from shaking his shoulders by a thoughtful Pali. He simply remained in a gloomy corner, his eyes troubled and his face ashen.
Pali, having not seen Erik since he was a scrawny little boy, did not know how he was normally brought out of these spells of depression. Knowing that Nadir was far too annoyed to help, he decided to leave Erik alone and instead find the one person who would cheer him up no matter the mood he was in.
Christine was changing into her dress for the evening performance- it would be the first time she had seen Erik in a few days, since her increased number of chores had left her unavailable for evening performances or daytime outings- when Pali barged into her tent without so much as a greeting to warn her. She screamed and leapt for the blanket crumpled on the floor, hiding behind it and screeching at the oblivious man that he should get out of the tent.
"Mademoiselle, please listen to me!" he pleaded, and Christine tried very hard to look angry. But this was difficult, as she was bright red and covered only by a blanket.
"I am happy to listen to you Pali, once I am dressed!"
"No, please, it is a matter of urgency!"
She gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes, but stopped talking and nodded to motion that he should continue.
"I'm sorry to intrude on you like this." He said, his eyes going to her strange appearance and making her glare angrily at him. "But...there is something wrong with Erik."
Christine stopped angrily playing with the edge of the blanket in her shock, trying desperately not to show her astonishment on her face. She did not like to imagine that there could be something wrong with Erik, that he might be ill or sad. He was far too nice a person to be upset or suffering and the thought of it made her feel quiet distressed, so much so that she had to take a few moments to ensure that her voice would be calm and controlled when she spoke.
"I'm sorry to hear that." She and Pali could both hear the strain in her voice, and for some baffling reason Pali smile as he heard this. "But as much as I do not want Erik to be ill or sad, I don't know why you have come to tell me at this moment when-"
"I have come to tell you because I think that you should go and see him, Christine."
"What!" she spluttered, looking at Pali as if he were insane. "I will see him when we perform, Pali! Why would I go to him now, when I will see him in less than half an hour?!"
Pali stopped smiling, his childlike manner crumbling with the severity of the moment. His dark eyes looked troubled and even torn in such a way that Christine felt her heart speed up in worry, the sensation nauseating and aching inside her for reasons that had no rational explanation.
"Christine...I have noticed something, from watching you sing together." Pali spoke softly, and Christine found that she was leaning forward to catch the words. "Erik is my friend- I know him well. He is a troubled soul, more than you will comprehend, and he is very alone and very uncomfortable with gypsy life. He is not here through choice, though had the situation been different, I know that he would have left the clan by now. He remains here because of you, I think, because of your company and the solace it brings him. It would mean the world to him if you went to him out of concern- if you showed him with such a gesture that you value his friendship."
"Oh, Pali, I can hardly believe that I could have such affect on him!" Christine forced a shaking laugh, wondering why her heart was now fluttering-yes, fluttering, as if a butterfly were encased within her chest. "It is I who dissolves into silly tears every other moment, it is I who requires a patient person to listen to my feeble tears! How can I be making him happy when I do nothing except exist?"
Pali looked at her sternly.
"He finds comfort in you, Christine. And I think, if you would, that he would be far happier for a visit from you."
Christine didn't know how to reply, or if she even could reply, to such a comment. As she quietly ushered Pali outside and returned to dressing as quickly as she could, she found herself remembering his words over and over, as if they were now embedded in her mind. She tried to analyse them, figure out if Pali was suggesting something else altogether from those words that made no sense, until her head ached in complaint.
Even as she left the tent and nodded her agreement, trailing silently behind Pali and looking up to see the beautiful dusk sky streaked with fire, she continued to torture herself with the seemingly unfathomable puzzle; how could Erik, a near total stranger whom she had latched onto for comfort and companionship for no real reason save the fact he was seemingly like her, an outsider, be in any way comforted by her when she did nothing except be there beside him?
When they at last reached Erik's tent, and Pali gestured for her to go inside with a solemn nod, Christine was still feeling troubled and confused by Pali's observations that, to her perhaps ignorant mind, did not make any sense.
So when, upon hearing the gentle rustle of the tent that signalled her entrance, Erik looked up and instantly the sadness clouding his odd jewel eyes faded to happiness as he saw her, Christine felt paralysed- both by her honest amazement and the aching stagger of her long dormant heart within her chest as she stared back, locked into place by the expression on his face and the pure joy that danced in his eyes.
He was happier to see her- then, without warning, amid the heady daydreams and staggering heartbeats, Christine Daae felt as if she were soaring up and above her mundane, dismal existence, utterly lost to the power, allure and emotion in his wide, jewel like eyes.