Disclaimer: I am neither Andrew Lloyd Webber nor Gaston Leroux.
Author Note: Hello again! It feels so great to be able to update this story regularly again- and finally in this chapter we reach some ACTION!
Any new names in this chapter were/are really used by the Romani people. Just in case you're interested in what these names mean;
Nadya means 'hope'.
Viollca means 'violet' or 'violet flower'.
Adriana means 'dark'.
Emilian means 'rival'.
Thank you so much to the lovely people who reviewed; Filhound, TMara, MarilynKC and ListenToTheRainS2. I'm so happy that you are enjoying it! :-D Also a huge thank you to anyone who has favourite-d, followed or read this story- it is all very much appreciated!
Now enough of my nonsense and onto the chapter...
Ten- Emilian
It was as if Erik's proposition of going to Paris had sparked a fountain of ridiculous joy amongst him and his companions- it was a change in mood that reminded Erik that no matter what consequences might lay ahead after such an altering move, it had been the right thing to do. After all, none of them wanted to remain festering in a travelling slavery circus for the rest of their lives- perhaps excluding Pali, for it was his home and life, the essence of his very existence- and even Erik's gloomy worrying seemed insignificant compared to the huge relief each of them felt. This was it, at long last, a gap in the stormy rainclouds to allow that single ray of hope shine through- a promise of returning home.
Nadir and Pali had relished in the transformation of Erik from moody, stubborn and perpetually angry to mellow, agreeable and even happy. For not only did it warm their hearts to see their so often troubled friend with a smile upon his face- Erik's new cheerful state of mind meant that he no longer snapped at them, argued with them or became the violent ogre he could often be if provoked by Nadir's patronising lectures or Pali's tactless babbling. At first they had been confused as to why their friend seemed so changed- Erik had not informed them of anything so they watched in amusement and confusion, speculating silently, Pali snickering as he imagined somewhat improper occurrences that could have had such an impact on Erik.
But the day after Erik had suggested to Christine that they go to Paris together, Nadir- still ignorant of this development- had stumbled across Erik and Christine sprawled on the floor of the tent, laughing and teasing one another as they sifted through piles of sheet music. The sight had been astonishing- they had honestly seemed like a newly married couple, no embarrassment at all as they happily lay there and prodded and pushed each other, giggling madly, occasionally throwing sheet music into the air and laughing as if it were the funniest thing in the world.
Of course, Nadir had asked Erik what was going on. The reply Erik had given him, smiling broadly in a way that he had never done before, had made Nadir so happy he nearly kissed his idiot of a friend. For although he also understood the risks of such a plan, if they were going to Paris it meant that Erik intended to stop lying and coax Christine gently back into reality- Nadir could not have wished for a better resolve. It was decided, after telling Pali and receiving a similarly enthusiastic response from the gangly gypsy, that Erik would put forward a request to the leaders when the clan arrived at the next major town or city- this was to minimise hassle when it came to transport and, Erik thought darkly, to ensure that they were far away before the cruel leaders could change their mind and summon them back.
"If I were you, I would offer the reason that you're engaged to be married, and you want her to leave the clan with you." Nadir offered in a relaxed tone that night as they sat around the tent, talking over the details. "The gypsy culture takes ceremony such as marriage very seriously- it is likely that they would let you take her away without complaint."
"It's worth a try, but I wouldn't be too hopeful." Pali interjected, for once the pessimist. "Remember that Christine is the biggest attraction, and brings us in a lot of money- I think the only way would be to buy her. Don't pull that face at me, Erik, you know I think that it's wrong and no different to slavery, but if that's the only way you can take Christine away surely you would do it."
"But I don't think I have enough money to make a good enough offer to them, if she really is your biggest source of income." Erik spat the words; they left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he hated to be talking about Christine as if she were merely an object with a price- she was worth so much more than any sum of money, and it made him feel wretched to consider paying a price for her when he knew she was far greater than that.
"Then perhaps you will have to remain with the clan for a while longer, earning until you have enough." Pali had replied in a careless tone, not angering anyone even though he seemed disinterested and unaware of the gravity of the situation they found themselves in.
For the truth was, despite the ominous worries about how they would fulfil their intentions, they were all far too happy to sit around and be gloomy. Each of them had the sweet taste of excitement dancing on the tips of their tongues, and the elation of planned success brewing inside them- the sensation of being happy to the point of not caring for worries or details was intoxicating, dizzying even. Nadir was no longer grouchy or righteous and found it easy to withhold his critical comments, Erik found himself composing almost stupidly lively tunes on the violin and constantly smiling- yes, smiling, even when he had no real reason to- and Pali was just his usual self; endlessly happy.
But the biggest change caused by this new hope was not the transformation of melancholy Erik; it was, to the complete delight of all three men, Christine who became the happiest of them all.
It was as if that heart of fire within her, that Erik had long feared extinguished or dampened, had at last been stoked into full blazing glory again and she seemed to shine with it, her face always bright with a huge smile and her eyes glittering with a thirst for knowledge and excitement and joy. Although she had recently become far less of a recluse, now she seemed to spring straight into the centre of the clan, talking to everyone and anyone, eager to be a part of anything that was going on and to see whatever was happening. In the evenings she no longer simply sang to the violin- she became a part of the music, dancing and laughing and whirling around so that the onlookers cheered in delight and threw their coins whilst begging for more.
Of course, the gypsies were astonished by this overnight transformation. Their beautiful Angel of the clan had changed dramatically, and it seemed that everyone had their own theory as to why. Whenever Christine left her tent she was hounded by them, bombarded with endless questions, so many gypsies desperate for snatches of detail as if she were suddenly some sort of elite amongst them. It was bewildering, and once upon a time she might have found the sudden attention terrifying, but now she could not help but laugh at them all- so needy and disgruntled to think that they might not know something. They would never understand why she was so happy, and she was glad of it, for she wanted this ecstatic state to remain pure and untainted by their greedy minds.
Of course, with everyone guessing, there was bound to be someone who was close to being correct, no matter how hard she tried to keep it mysterious and unknown.
"Is it true that there is something between you and that tall man whom accompanies your singing in the evenings, Christine?" Nadya- one of the gypsy women- probed her one morning as they all sat and sewed, her narrow eyes sharp like a bird of prey's, scrutinising her in such a manner that made Christine prickle with awkwardness. Nadya had never engaged in any kind of conversation before, always too busy cackling away with her closest friends, but now she was attentive and waiting for answers.
"Is he going to marry you- is that why you're acting so strangely?" asked Viollca, delicately shoving Nadya aside and taking Christine's hands in her own. It was meant to be an expression of companionship, probably to make her feel comfortable and willing to spill her secrets, but Viollca's talon like nails dug into Christine's soft flesh and made her wince and cringe away from the woman's wide, imploring gaze.
"Marry her?!" Adriana snorted, her voice dripping with scorn as she dumped down her sewing with a disgusted expression. The other's turned to look at her, affirming Christine's suspicions that Adriana- with all her confidence and superiority- was like a leader to these cackling women. She was stunningly beautiful; long raven black hair that tumbled elegantly down her back in a striking contrast to her bright clothes, piercing deep blue eyes, full lips which seemed to beckon the men over- there always seemed to be something alluring, something provocative, about the way Adriana stood or sat, as if she was tempting the men over simply by standing there.
The other women envied her, it was clear to see, but Christine felt nothing but an odd sort of pity for the girl. Her beauty and seduction meant she was always spared the hard tasks and the men of the clan gave her special favours, but Adriana's looks and nature made her the mistress of the camp- it appeared that there was not a single man who had not been... entertained by her at least once. Even Pali had made a comment about her once, a faraway look in his eyes, and it made Christine shudder to think that even the most humane of men seemed to think Adriana was an object for their pleasures.
"Why would he marry her?" Adriana continued in her siren's voice. "Are you all utterly mad? Men don't marry girls like us- they don't want to stay after they've taken their pleasures. They're all the same when you're like us."
Christine wasn't entirely sure as to why she responded to the comment- she'd never dared to argue a point with anyone in the clan before, except for Pali who she knew would never hurt her, and her fear of being attacked by these sometimes feral women or of being sucked into the system she had tried to remain detached from had always held her back in the past. But now, as she watched this group of women cackling together and giving each other knowing looks, as if they could ever hope to understand the relationship she and Erik held, Christine suddenly felt a fiery urge to defend the man they had so wrongly accused and judged and assumed to be like every other filthy wretch, just as she had at that first encounter in the woodland by the stream. She forgot all her wishes to remain mysterious, to keep her business private- all that mattered then to Christine was that her wonderful relationship with Erik was not tainted by their dirty opinions.
"No, they're not all like that- Erik certainly isn't." She said softly, watching with satisfaction as all three women turned in shock to gape at her. But then the superior feeling was ruined, as they simultaneously erupted into coarse and humiliating laughter. "It's true! He is different to all the men here; he is kind, and considerate. He teaches me things and always ensures that- that I am happy!"
Adriana gave an airy laugh and patted Christine on the top of her head in such a manner that she seemed to radiate self assurance. She was condescending and acted as if she alone had experienced all that was worth doing and knew all there was to know- with the other's lapping it up and fuelling her superiority, Adriana ruled like a queen. Christine tensed under her patronising touch and resisted the urge to shake her off.
"My, my, dearie, he does have you strung along in his little scheme." She said in a pitying voice, grinning as she earned appreciative laughter as Christine burned bright red with the embarrassment of it. "Don't you see, sweetheart? He's sweetening you up, leading you along a trail with those soft words and gentlemanly acts- when he does decide to drop the niceties and reveal his real intentions my guess is you'll be begging for it anyway."
Christine cowered from the bold words, suddenly feeling incredibly innocent and stupid. But it wasn't true- the stupid woman knew nothing, her words meant nothing. Christine tossed back her curls- wild and unruly compared to Adriana's gentle cascading waves- and lifted her chin, defiant.
"That's strange you think that, because taking me out of this cheap circus act seems like an awful lot of bother for a man simply trying to lure a woman into bed." She almost spat the words, but still Adriana merely laughed at her.
"Look, sweetie, I know that you're still as innocent as they come, but that won't be for long. Ask yourself this- why does your gentlemen want to take you out of the clan and whisk you away somewhere, if not for you to be his little gypsy whore?" she cackled in delight. "Believe me, my lovely, that for girls like us the men who come crawling only want one thing- and that thing will never lead to whatever fantasy romance you're dreaming of. Men are liars, their words just another way of making us believe that they're such wonderful people. There's no use in hoping or believing otherwise."
"Adriana," Christine hissed, "Just because all the men that you have ever stumbled into bed with have treated you like a 'little gypsy whore' doesn't mean that we'll all experience such treatment. I'm not a girl like you and Erik is far from the lowly scum that you've spent your time with!"
When Erik saw her that evening, ready for the night's performance, and asked her where the scratches on her face came from in a voice that told her he was bubbling with fury, Christine had happily made up some silly story about falling into the thorns. The scratches had hurt when first inflicted, and had stung to the point she had wanted to cry, but as Nadya and Viollca had dragged the hissing Adriana away Christine had managed to keep her chin up and her eyes challenging- the scratches were victories, a sign that she was no longer the pathetic, droopy wretch who would let anyone treat her with no respect.
She felt utterly invincible, as if her confidence had soared and she was flying up above the rest of them, untouchable- and all because of the promise of Paris. A fragile promise, which could be shattered by a cruel fist. None of them, in their ecstatic bliss, had expected the cruel fist to come crashing down and obliterate their plans, but as Nadir often spouted- ignorance does not mean safety. This cruel fist materialised one morning when Christine was taking a short walk through the woodland near to the camp, savouring the fresh air before returning to her duties.
One moment she had been happily walking along without a care in the world, a small smile on her face as she remembered the embrace she and Erik had shared yesterday when she had flung her arms around him on impulse, and the next she felt someone grab her by the arm, tugging her roughly and pulling her so that she was held firmly against the stinking, repugnant body of a man she had never seen before. But although he was a complete stranger to her, she knew just from the way he had lurked in the trees and pounced on her that he was someone to fear, someone that she really ought to escape from- but he had a firm hold of her and there was no way that she could wriggle free.
Her heart began to thump desperately in her chest, aching with each throb, and she turned in the vice tight grip of the stranger and instantly her eyes widened in terror as she took in the sickening gleam of yellow teeth and glittering brown eyes, all set upon a leathery face, twisted with jagged scars and the faint shadow of past scowls and grimaces. He was unkempt and messy, in brightly coloured yet tattered and blood splattered clothes, his manner and greedy stare a sure sign that he was one of the scum she had insulted so passionately to Adriana a few days before- yet, she did not recognise him. Though he wore the clothes and expression of a gypsy, she was certain that she had never seen him in the clan; she knew she would remember a man with such a vile, evil expression.
He grinned at her terror, delighting at how she flinched as he moved and pressed her tightly against a huge tree trunk- he began to move in closer, his boots almost trampling her bare feet, and at such a close proximity the stench of tobacco and body odour was choking and unbearable. She tried look him in the eyes, to pretend that she was not terrified, but even his eyes were horrifying. They were unlike Erik's or Nadir's or Pali's; they were cruel and cold and greedy, no sign of humanity in their muddy depths whatsoever.
"It must be my lucky day. What a tempting delight to stumble across in the woods." He said in a scratchy voice, low and ragged, his sour breath hitting her face and wrinkling her delicate nose. He reached out with a scarred, talon-like hand and held her face, turning her head from side to side, as if examining her to decide if he really did think she was a 'delight'. Christine felt utterly repulsed.
"Let go of me." She said in a trembling voice, trying to sound brave as he leaned in closer, pressing her firmly back against the tree trunk so she was stuck there, as if being offered to him, powerless to move. "I'm warning you- let go of me now, or I'll scream."
"Scream then. See who comes." He offered with a wheezing laugh. "And even if anyone does arrive, they'll not spring to your aid and slaughter me. They won't help you at all. Do you know who I am?"
Christine, oddly, found herself trying to answer him. Once again her eyes combed over his face, over every twisted scar and every feature, not daring to linger on those horrid eyes which sent chills down her spine.
"Other than an evil bastard?" she offered recklessly, shaking as if the ground under her feet was trembling. His grip upon her tightened and she bit back the gasp of protest.
"I am the leader of the gypsy clan you are bound to- I am your master, I own you." he announced the fact with little theatrics, waiting for some kind of response.
"No-one owns me."
"Ah, I think you will find that you are very much mistaken, Christine Daae." She gasped to hear her own name and he gave a low chuckle, clearly satisfied by her shock. "Are you forgetting that we saved your life, picking you up from that sleazy tavern? You owe me your life, my dear Mademoiselle Daae, and I intend to claim everything I am owed."
In that long, drawn out moment of horrific terror, Christine was honestly convinced that this vile man would kill her, or rape her and then kill her. She was crying before she realised it, hot and angry tears spilling onto her face, and soon those silent tears became sobs. She briefly wondered if begging would do her any good and was about to plea that he leave her alone, but then he did something unexpected. To her astonishment, he gripped her wrist and stepped back, motioning for her to step away from the tree trunk. She did so, trembling, wondering if this was good or bad luck as he began to drag her along after him, crashing through the thicket and bushes into the camp; she was astounded to see how the gypsies who were walking along chattering, or standing around outside their tents, all fell silent and sombre just to catch sight of the man who towed her along. As he came to a halt, the gypsies all moved silently closer, surrounding him, still all silent with matching expressions of shock, disbelief and confusion on their faces.
Christine glanced around, desperately begging with her eyes for someone to release her from this painful grip, and at last she caught sight of Pali's stricken face amongst the crowd. He darted away into the maze of colourful tents, and her heart gave a thud of relief- she knew, somehow, that Pali was going to fetch Erik. She would be safe, as long as Erik was present.
Erik and Nadir were busily discussing travel plans when Pali erupted into the tent, his face an odd colour and his lips white, his expression a mix of horror, astonishment and worry so that Nadir and Erik were on their feet in seconds, hurrying towards him. Erik gripped Pali's arm and tried to help him to sit down, fearing that the gypsy might be ill- he felt as if his veins had filled with ice, seeing Pali's expression, and he could not shake the feeling that something had gone disastrously wrong. Pali was panting and gasping for breath, half from the exertion from running here and half from panic, his eyes constantly flitting over the contents of the tent, unable to rest on anything. Whenever his uneasy gaze met Erik's though, his face became torn with anguish and guilt, which made Erik tremble in fear. After about the sixth time this agonising ritual occurred, he could no longer take it.
"Pali, you've had time to regain your breath and not die- tell us why you've come barging in here like this!" he demanded, wrenching Pali up from the floor.
"Erik!" Nadir gasped in outrage, but Pali shook his head violently.
"No- you must be angry with me." He said softly, his huge brown eyes so pitiful that, with a snarl of self loathing, Erik stepped back and began to pace around angrily, holding back the stream of abuse. "I have...I have ruined everything."
"Now, before you start to act like another diva we all know-" Nadir coughed and nudged Erik, who gave a low hiss in retaliation. "- why don't you explain what has worried you so. Pali, you have aided us in such a way that has been marvellous, we simply could not have come this far without your assistance. I find it very hard to believe that you could have possibly ruined everything, or even done something as atrocious as your words suggest."
Pali did not seem to be comforted by the praise, looking and feeling uncomfortable and he fidgeted and did not dare allow his eyes to rest upon Erik again. He kept recalling the sight that had terrified him and made him come running to his friends; Christine, poor Christine, in the clutches of such a vile man, a vile man he had long thought gone from the clan, a man he had thought dead-! And the knowledge of who he was, and what this would do to Erik-
"I have been a fool. I failed to see a great problem during all my assumptions and ignorance and now- now it is too late, far too late." Pali took a deep, shuddering breath. It seemed to take all of his will power to lift his head and look at Erik directly. "Erik, I...I am so truly sorry, I cannot think of what to say that will...will..." he paused, agonised. "The truth is that something has occurred, something that means that it will be impossible for you to take Christine out of the clan."
As soon as the words were finally out, Nadir dove for Erik, gripping onto both of his arms and pinning him in place, certain that his friend would want to leap across the tent and throttle the gypsy for daring to suggest that Christine would be unable to leave the clan, ever. Erik, however, had no such intentions and he gave the Persian an irritable look. He could tell, simply from the agony in Pali's eyes, that this occurrence that he spoke of was more than just a silly mistake on his part, more than an oversight. The imploring look in Pali's eyes told Erik what he had feared- this awful occurrence somehow involved him.
"Tell me why, Pali. Please." Erik said in a soft voice, no trace of anger in his mild words. The gentle tone seemed to break the gypsy, for his shoulders sagged and began to shake.
"No, Erik, please do not ask me that." Pali begged in a hoarse voice- he seemed ashamed, as if the guilt was so great he couldn't even say it. It made Erik feel terrible.
"Pali, you must tell us, else we will be unable to solve this problem and liberate Christine!" he begged in an ardent voice. Nadir's grip on his arms disappeared, so Erik crossed the short distance to stand before Pali, forcing the gypsy to look at him. "Listen to me- when I was a child in this clan, and I spent every day and every night locked in that cage, spat upon and sneered at and treated as if I were a monster, an animal...you were the only one who allowed me to feel human still. It was you who reminded me that no matter how I was treated, I did still have some value to someone- it was something that stayed with me for a long time, all through Javert's abuse, all through my years in Persia, all through my time as the Opera Ghost. You gave me hope, Pali, and it saved me when I was close to oblivion. Now, please, let me repay that favour by helping you now. I beg of you."
Erik's words brought tears to Pali's eyes, but still he could not feel hopeful. He felt weighed down with fear- fear of Erik's anger and disappointment, fear of what would happen to Christine and also a fear of what would happen to him now that he had apparently returned to them. But he could not deny Erik, not after such a confession, so he closed his eyes for a second and wondered how anyone could decide how to purge their darkest fears.
"This clan...it is more like a travelling circus these days, than a real gypsy tribe travelling around for the thrill of freedom, or a truly cruel clan who enslaves people as we used to. The days of slavery and cages and torture are gone- at least, they have been gone since...since our leader left us." Pali paused, uncomfortable with telling the story but feeling that it was rather like a poison existing in his body- it had to be released. "He left us around a year ago- he and a few other men went into the town closest to where we were camped, as they normally did. But this time it was different- the men came back drunk and- and carrying Christine, unconscious and with her head injury. But our leader did not return with them. No one knew what had happened, the men far too drunk to recall and far too pleased with themselves for bringing back such a pretty young woman to care. Of course rumours soon got around, some saying that he had fallen into a ditch and died, others claiming that a young gentlemen had killed him in some sort of a duel. Some thought he just went off on his own...but it doesn't matter. I thought he was gone for good."
"And I take it that this barbaric leader of yours has returned?" Nadir asked calmly. Pali nodded. "Well, I don't see what a lot of difference it makes. If he believes in the practice of slavery, then we must simply barter for her. Erik can continue to earn money playing his music in the clan, and once we have enough-"
"No. No! You don't understand!" Pali seemed to fall back into hysteria. "He is a ruthless man, cold and cruel and of the belief that he can do whatever he likes, take whatever he likes, and that any opposition can be crushed. Besides, he has already taken a shine to Christine; he won't want to give up a pretty young girl, pure as snow, who brings him money and interest. That's what brought me running here- he was pulling her along after him, as if he were leading a horse-!"
"WHAT?!" Erik exploded, leaping up and grabbing the small pistol that Nadir always carried with him from the Persian's waistcoat pocket, brandishing it in such a foolhardy manner that Nadir was convinced he would shoot someone accidentally. "Christine is not anyone's property- she is certainly not a toy for some barbaric, evil bastard to leer at and paw over! I'm going to get her right now, and then we can leave, on horseback. I refuse to sit by and allow Christine to become a sadists pleasure!"
Pali went mad. He leapt up and grabbed Erik by the arm, pulling him back with all of his strength, his face bright red- Nadir was astonished that the tiny gypsy managed to restrain the tall Erik, especially as he was boiling with fury.
"No, Erik, you can't!" Pali yelled hysterically, well and truly lost to his fear and frenzied attempts to hold back the murderous looking Erik, whose face was a seething mass of red and the burn of those smouldering eyes- the emotionless, flesh coloured mask had never seemed more out of place then. Pali was flailing about so wildly that he looked as if he were about to knock the mask flying. Erik noticed this too, so growled and held it down with one hand.
"AND WHY NOT?!" he demanded, finally managing to throw Pali off with his other hand, reaching to take the sinister black gun again and gripping it menacingly. "GO ON, YOU BUMBLING MILKSOP! WHY NOT?!"
"BECAUSE OUR LEADER, EMILIAN, IS- IS JAVERT'S SON!" Pali bellowed the words. Immediately there was silence, and the furious Pali turned all his hysteria into anger, which he directed straight at the frozen Erik. "If he saw you...if he realised who you are...dear God, Erik, you must understand now! If you go charging in there to seize Christine, Emilian will see you. If he recognises you as the masked monster who killed his father, he will kill you! He is obsessed by it, the Devil's Child- there would be no stopping him. And if he saw me or Nadir with you, or saw that you cared for Christine, he would not hesitate to go on a rampage and murder us all. He is a- a monster, a truly evil monster, and had I thought he was still alive I would have told you to flee with Christine straight away and I would have had to bear the consequences. But I didn't think- I didn't think!"
Nadir couldn't bear to look at Pali and his anguished face, but when he turned to Erik he felt as if he might be sick- Erik looked terrified. Not terrified in the usual sense, but as if he were a child, trembling in fear at the mere memory of the hideous bully who had tortured, tormented and almost raped him as a young child. It was no surprise that Javert had fathered a son- he probably had many children, as Erik recalled many ladies pawing over his beastly master and whispering in his ear, making him drool over them in disgusting delight. But it was the fact that this particular vile spawn, this Emilian person, had inherited his father's evil and now had Christine in his grip that shook him.
"Erik, I'm sorry, but there is no choice. You must leave the clan before he sees you." Pali whispered, snapping Erik from his trance and filling him with horror.
"You think I will do that? Leave Christine here, with him pawing over her? To let her think I have abandoned her and broken all my promises?!" Erik hissed, clenching his fists. "No! No, I don't care for your fussing Pali- I am going to face this Emilian and I am not leaving this place unless Christine Daae is beside me. Now stand aside Pali."
"Don't do this to me, Erik. Please." Pali whispered.
"I've only just found her after losing her- I refuse to lose Christine again!"
"Then I am sorry, Erik, but this has to be done. For your own good."
With that cryptic sentence, Pali grabbed Erik suddenly by the collar and wrenched him forward. He reached out with lightening speed for the gun in Erik's hand, and brought the barrel of the weapon smashing down against the back of Erik's head. There was a fiery burst of pain, a snatch of stunned agony, then warm darkness and the faint sound of Nadir cursing in the background, before nothing.