Disclaimer: I am neither Andrew Lloyd Webber nor Gaston Leroux.
Author Note: Hi all! After all the drama and the cliff-hanger of last chapter, perhaps what we need is a nice, calm chapter...not likely with Erik and Raoul within striking distance of each other! Poor Erik...I feel so mean, first sadistic Emilian and then Raoul.
Thank you so much to those who reviewed/followed/favourite-d, especially; TMara, Filhound and MarilynKC! Reviews are very much appreciated!
TMara- yes, don't worry, Emilian most definitely hasn't raped Christine. Pali would never let that happen; he has taken on the role of over-the-top protector in Erik's "absence" :-) Though once Erik get's his hands on him, Pali might well need a protector of his own!
Those of you that read my other story will know that Raoul was portrayed as quite a villain and had become quite nasty, being a drunkard and a cruel tempered husband to his poor innocent wife. I decided that with this story I would take a different approach with Raoul, and I decided upon this new outlook after reading something on a Phantom vs. Raoul debate; someone had made the comment that they hated it when Phangirls made Raoul out to be a really bad person, and made him vicious and cruel, because then it made Christine choosing Erik an easy option- who wouldn't choose the slightly creepy but adoring Erik if Raoul had ceased to be his apparently perfect, charming self? So, just to add some more Erik anguish (sorry Erik *SOB*) and to try and improve my writing, I have decided that Raoul will remain his usual charming, slightly jealous and needy, foolish, foppish but nice self.
Sorry about that really long explanation :-D I'll be on holiday next week, so there will be no update, but perhaps this unusually long chapter will make up for that :-)
Twelve- A Mystery Explained
Nadir Khan was not the sort of man who often found himself in a state of complete and utter panic. His turbulent past in the Persian police had left him with a no nonsense, calm and logical outlook and his various, often unpleasant, experiences enforcing the law had provided him with unshakeable proof that panicking, dithering and rushing about like a headless chicken was the least helpful thing anyone could do in a difficult situation. His time spent as Erik's companion had toughened Nadir and his nerves to the point that he could face the hysterical, raging drama queen with little more than a heartfelt sigh and perfectly patronising eye roll- thus the reason that Erik often made fun of him through use of the nickname 'Stoic Saint Nadir'. His lack of frenzied hysteria did not mean that Nadir didn't care about things- he cared a great deal, especially for matters involving Erik, but he knew that if he were not such a sensible and possibly even dull person sometimes, Erik would not be in the mostly undamaged state that he was today.
But even years and years of practise could not make Nadir completely immune to the dramatics most commonly displayed by Erik; if the situation was unusually alarming, he was susceptible to worry and slight hysteria. It didn't happen very often, but at that moment Nadir felt the horridly distinctive sensations of wild panic begin to bubble up inside him as he stood watching the scene before him.
There, sprawled on the woodland floor, clothes covered with natures debris and face flooded with terror, was Raoul de Chagny. But it was not the quaking Vicomte that made Nadir clench his hands together to stop them from fidgeting nervously- no, it was the fact that Erik, his expression murderous and his eyes glinting with malicious joy, was circling him like a lion waiting to pounce on the helpless gazelle. The way Erik glared down at the snivelling young man made it look as if he were actually looking upon some hideous rodent scurrying in his own repugnant filth, rather than a cowering young member of the aristocracy. Nadir watched nervously, wondering how he could ever hope to intervene and stop Erik from doing something stupid, something he would not be able to undo once out of this boiling fury. As soon as he had seized the Vicomte and dragged him deep into the woodland, throwing him down to the floor and kicking him violently, Erik had turned to Nadir with a frenzied light in his smouldering yellow eyes.
"This proves it, Khan!" he had hissed in such a voice Nadir thought his friend had actually turned insane. "The greasy little vermin shall pay for all he has done- for the chaos he has caused, the damage he was wreaked!"
"Proves what, Erik?!" Nadir had asked frantically, stealing glances at the crumpled Vicomte, who was whimpering under the oppressive force of Erik's foot. "Stop being so violent- you'll kill him!"
"Death would be a kindness to such a- such a WRETCH!" Erik had retorted furiously. "Of course I suspected it all along, but I never had any proof, but this-! This snivelling fop caused this whole mess- it is all his fault! He ordered the attack on me that night, he stole her away- THE VERY FACT HE IS HERE PROVES IT! He could not contend with the fact that he was not chosen, that for once the ugly beast from hell triumphed over the handsome young fool with wealth and status- IT IS ALL HIS FAULT!"
"ERIK!" Nadir had bellowed, watching his friend dissolve into maniacal fury, booting the Vicomte again. "You're mad! You're angry about Emilian, angry that Pali prevented you from going to take Christine straight away, and now you're conjuring up this INSANE explanation as an excuse to attack an innocent! LET HIM GO!"
"Some coincidence, don't you think, Khan?" Erik had said in a low, threatening voice that had sent cold tremors running down Nadir's spine- he hated it when Erik behaved like this, as if he were still the assassin in Persia or the Opera Ghost at the Populaire. He sounded so evil when he spoke like that, so capable of atrocity and bloodshed, that Nadir had to look away he felt so disgusted. "He appears as soon as his fiancée is close to escaping her imprisonment. And there is nothing insane about my theories; just think to what levels such a foul excuse for a human being would stoop. Perhaps he shares the earnings from her singing in the clan? Perhaps he sold her and now wishes to steal her away and claim a better price?! Or perhaps he is simply a foul, twisted, pathetic boy who has managed to get himself entangled in some hideous bargain. It does not matter, whichever way you wish to look upon it Khan, HE IS EMBROILED IN THIS PLOT AND HE WILL PAY FOR IT!"
And then Erik had begun to laugh, hysterical dark laughter as he sneered down at the captive Vicomte at his feet; he was in such a rage that he seemed utterly lost to rationality, beginning to circle the collapsed Raoul with a slow menace. And that was when Nadir's panic had started, for he knew that there was no reasoning with Erik now- he would simply have to wait until the madness simmered down, and hope that in this spell of insanity that Erik did not do something terrible.
He glanced at the Vicomte again, pitying the terrified young man who cowered amongst the twigs and the leaves and the mud, wondering for a brief second if Erik's paranoid and violent theories could perhaps hold a strain of truth within them? Raoul had lost out, that night of Don Juan and the chandelier crash; Nadir wondered what the young man had felt, standing in the managers box expecting to at last defeat the Phantom, only to have his beloved fiancée kiss her supposed tormentor and be saved from death by him. The night of the attack, when their mad search around France had begun, was a night Nadir and Erik had tried to forget as best they could- but one thing, one detail, had always stayed firmly in Nadir's mind. The fact that one of the attackers had left with Christine, not stayed to help...clearly, that man who had taken her away with him was not one of the band of thugs who had then nearly killed Erik- they had been a team, a group. But what did that mean?
Nadir brushed off the thoughts, berating himself for giving a seconds thought towards Erik's mad ideas. The situation at hand was the crucial thing to focus on, and with a twinge of horror in his stomach, Nadir saw that Erik had come to a menacing halt, staring down at the Vicomte with a dark amusement flickering in his eyes. Oh Erik, Nadir thought sadly, will you never learn?
"Well, well, my dear Vicomte." Erik spoke at last, adopting a taunting, teasing, mock polite tone that made Raoul tremble, petrified. He seemed not to have realised that Erik was the Phantom from his past, and Nadir wondered if this was a good or a bad thing. "How pleasant it is to see you here so unexpectedly. I trust that you are well? I wonder, how is your conscience since our last meeting?!"
"L-last meeting?" the Vicomte squeaked, turning a deep scarlet as he heard how high pitched his voice had become. He coughed, in an attempt to regain his normal voice, but he only succeeded in looking as if he were choking in fright. "Forgive me Sir, I beg of you, but I honestly believe that I have never seen you before in my life!"
Nadir winced before the words were even out. Raoul wasn't to know, but such a pathetic statement had more or less sealed his own death warrant now. Erik's eyes blazed with fury.
"DON'T PLAY SUCH GAMES WITH ME, DE CHAGNY!" Erik bellowed, leaning in to grab Raoul harshly by the collar so that he began to thrash wildly in panic. Erik was tempted, in a moment of dark fury, to grab the man's noble neck and to exert just enough force that he bruised that lily white aristocrat skin, but he was very aware of Nadir's governing presence and irritating nervousness somewhere behind him, so he held himself back. "Don't pretend and imagine that such pathetic lies will save you. A flesh coloured mask rather than a white one cannot change me so much that our last meeting is eradicated from memory- I assure you, I am unchanged and as ruthless as ever!"
It was as if the mention of a 'mask' had suddenly pierced the darkness of Raoul's confusion with bright, brilliant light, for as soon as the word was uttered he froze, the thrashing and struggling ending as suddenly as it had begun. His crimson cheeks, still flushed from his embarrassed fear and also from the exertion of trying to wriggle free, faded alarmingly quickly to a deathly white just as his eyes became wide, reluctantly looking at Erik's face. He caught sight of Nadir, hovering hesitantly behind Erik, and with a nervous gulp he closed his eyes in disbelieving desperation.
"It cannot be- it cannot be...oh God." Raoul murmured in a sick voice, his eyes shooting open again as he seemed to realise something. "But...but this...this makes no sense! If you truly are the Opera Ghost, the Phantom, I cannot understand...I- you're supposed to be dead!"
"Aha! Supposed to be dead, Vicomte, is that what you said?! Supposed to be long dead and rotting in a dank cellar below the opera, killed by your band of thugs?!" Erik exploded madly, triumphant in the victory of being correct, his suspicions proven and his dominance over the nauseous looking young man complete. Nadir closed his eyes, bringing his hands to his temples in an act of helplessness- dear God, Erik had been correct, or so it seemed; Raoul offered no resistance to Erik's accusations, merely bowing his head and looking as if he might be horridly sick. And it did offer some explanation to the mystery; the man who took Christine away would have been Raoul, the group of men simply a gang who the Vicomte had likely paid to assist him...Nadir groaned. He hated it when Erik's paranoia was correct, for it usually resulted in violence. "Yes, I knew that all this was your doing- I KNEW that such a clumsy, brainless, destructive chain of events could be the fault of none other than such a chimp! I knew that it was you who sent that gaggle of inhumane pigs after me and Christine, once we had escaped the chandelier fall- I expect that you saw the way she kissed me, oh Lordly Vicomte?! Did you see her embrace me and kiss me, of her own free will, before an audience of hundreds?! I expect that you were furious, weren't you?! So furious you decided you would seize by force what you had decided was yours- so furious that someone had beaten you that you would kill the very beast who had won where you had lost! Yes, Vicomte, I know what your bitter, childish jealously can lead to! But you failed again; I am still alive, still here, still towering over you! And now, after all the anguish you have caused, I will take great delight in making you pay for all you have done! I will take revenge for the woman you claimed to love, the woman you destroyed with your incompetent acts of utter idiocy!"
Nadir felt bile choke up the back of his throat- Erik no longer resembled the man he had spent a year travelling with, a man who was sick of guilt and evil and wanted nothing more than redemption and love. This Erik before him now seemed evil to the core, delighting in it, and Nadir could not bear to watch. Raoul, however, no longer looked terrified- he looked astonished and confused.
"What?!" the word exploded from Raoul's mouth, breaking Erik's rant. "Take revenge for what? If you are so angry because you believe that I have done something dreadful to Christine, that I have killed her or something so dreadful, you are very much mistaken! Christine is alive!"
"AND?!" Erik bellowed, the calculated evil menace dissolving and transforming back into Erik's more usual hysterical anger- Nadir, despite himself, felt relieved. "How- how DARE you offer that PATHETIC fact as proof of her health, her well being, her happiness-! To be alive...to be alive means nothing! You will still be alive after I have crushed every last bone in your body and left you writhing in agonising pain with your skin feeling as if it is aflame and burning, but you will not be the same pompous ape that you are now! You will not be happy, you will not be well, you will not be flourishing and living your life in the way that you should be- that you deserve! You- you gave Christine to the filthy, barbaric, scum who own this slavery circus we stand close to and now she is changed irreversibly! She is alive, oh yes, but she is no longer the same woman you lusted after and coveted!"
"NO!" Raoul yelled in response, his voice saturated with distress. "I don't understand what it is you're raving about, what you are accusing me of! I have been searching, dear God I have been searching- and now, after over a year spent travelling around France, I have found her! I have found Christine and I love her. I have come to take her back to Paris, back home with me. I have not enslaved her- I am here to rescue her!"
"Don't you DARE tell me such TREACHEROUS lies-"
"ERIK!" Nadir exploded into the conversation, grabbing Erik by the shoulders and physically hauling him backwards, leaping into the now empty space left between him and the Vicomte. Raoul staggered and stood up properly, dusting down his clothes and picking the mud from his hair, and Erik lunged for him. Nadir stood firmly in the way, his expression so firm that Erik actually obeyed the silent order to calm down and stand still. Nadir rubbed his forehead tiredly, his head buzzing from the argument he had been subjected to listen to. "God's teeth man, can you not just listen for once in your life?! Listen to what the Vicomte is saying to you and stop trying to rip his throat out in response!"
Erik gave Nadir a look of pure loathing, in astonishment and even comically bewildered by the suggestion of actually listening to the fop, as if his pathetic lies were the truth. He raised an eyebrow, deliberately threatening, and snorted. What did the Persian imagine he was achieving by intervening and playing mediator in this infuriating manner?! Did he really think that after seeing Christine suffer so hellishly, Erik would ever be content to shake hands and make friends?! Again, Erik felt overcome with the urge to slap Saint Nadir back into reality.
"Listen to him?" he asked, his tone insulting the idea, as if it were the stupidest thing he had ever heard in his life. "Khan, you honestly want me to LISTEN TO HIM? He sent a band of thugs to attack and kill me, he has not denied it! He could not contend with the fact that for once the ugly beast won and the handsome prince lost- he seized Christine by force, so typically aristocratic, and as a result he is FULLY RESPONSIBLE for the memory loss, her incarceration in this damned gypsy camp AND-"
"Raoul de Chagny is innocent!" Nadir roared over him, losing his temper. "Or should I say, as innocent as you in this matter. If you had listened to him, you would hear that he truly has no idea as to what state Christine is in, just as you had no idea. You both contributed and created the situation that reached deadly conclusion that night below the opera, and thus Erik your violence and rage is completely unjust. That fault, it seems, is both of yours and you are so utterly similar in this instance that neither of you can be blamed for anymore than the other."
Both Raoul and Erik were united then as they both gave the Persian comically confused looks, and also in their mutual disgust at being compared to one another and then deemed to be similar. Erik grimaced as he sneered at Raoul with his fine clothes and long golden locks resting on his shoulders, and Raoul gave a delicate shudder as he considered what it would be like to spend a life with the marred, repulsive face that this Phantom possessed. Raoul replayed both the Phantom's and the Persian's words over in his head, pausing at the mention of memory loss. What could they possibly mean by that?
Raoul did not want to- or dare to- ask the fuming Phantom as to what he had meant by this confusing statement, so instead he directed his queries at the Persian, a face he had often spied lurking in the dark shadows of the opera house. He had always seemed a little sinister then, with the ballet girls spreading all sorts of wicked tales about him, but in daylight he seemed to be an ordinary older man with stress lines creasing his face and a perpetually strained, disapproving expression upon his rather dignified features.
"Excuse me, Monsieur." He piped up with schoolboy eagerness, trying to ignore the exasperated groan that came from the murderous looking Phantom. The Persian turned, one eyebrow raised as if insulting the query. But Raoul was not deterred, even if he was a little patronising. "I don't wish to sound rude, but I think that I am owed an explanation. Would someone please tell me what on Earth is going on?!"
Nadir regarded the Vicomte with a thoughtful frown.
"I believe that I am just as entitled to ask you the same question." He muttered, out of concentration more than irritation. "I apologise for Erik's complete overreaction and any injury caused. But his reaction, however over the top and overly hysterical, did not come from nowhere. These are...desperate times, Vicomte, and finding you here could be the answer we have been looking for, to solve the puzzling mysteries that have surrounded this whole ordeal from the start. We are, I presume, all seeking the same thing. We could be a great help to one another."
"Nadir." Erik hissed, glaring the Vicomte into silence. "No. You can't really be suggesting such a ludicrous thing? He sent thugs to try and kill me! And I am certain, no matter your defence of him, that it is his harebrained antics that caused all this mess in the first place!"
"No, Erik, as we have already established, you are both at fault in this mess." Nadir kept the peace expertly now that he was in control, managing the situation with the skill of a diplomat, and in the same airy manner. "You are to blame for being a complete and utter ass by creeping around the opera house as the dratted Opera Ghost, causing all kinds of problems, and Raoul for bordering megalomania by taking the law into his own incapable hands and behaving stupidly in a jealous fit."
"Then why-"
"It is far from ideal, I know. But we are all here, and apparently all suffering, for the same reason; Christine Daae." Nadir spoke calmly over Erik again, seeing how Raoul looked impressed by such a daring act. Nadir rolled his eyes irritably. "As you are both to blame, I think that you both owe it to the poor girl to get her out of the mess she is in. And there is also the matter that if Erik's accusations are correct, and it was you who organised the attack that night under the opera Vicomte, then it is true that you have caused an awful lot of damage and owe us an explanation. In return, to apologise for Erik's madness and violence towards you, we will share with you all that we know. I suggest that you take this offer, Vicomte, else I will have no real reason to hold Erik back from attacking you again."
As if to emphasise this point, Erik cracked his knuckles menacingly whilst humming a particularly dark dirge under his breath, delighted that Nadir was managing the Vicomte so expertly. Raoul took them both in again with a wild eyed glance; the Persian seemed pleasant enough, if not a little manipulative, and oddly Raoul found himself a little in awe of the Phantom, Erik, whom he had only ever loathed as his evil rival. Even though he seemed violent and dramatic, this Erik before him now couldn't have been further from the madman who stalked his memories. Overcome by the Persian's skilful reasoning, Erik's surprising personality and his slightly murderous gaze, Raoul nodded.
"I've rooms in a nearby inn, in town, that we may all use if you so wish." Raoul spoke softly, trying not to become too bothered by the smouldering scorn in Erik's perplexing yellow eyes that glinted at him. "The clan seems to have given no signs of packing up and moving, so we won't lose them. And, if you don't mind my saying, you both look as if you could do with a proper bed even just for one night."
"That...that is most kind, Vicomte." Nadir sounded stunned, as if it was the last thing he had been expecting Raoul to say, especially after the violence and the manipulation. Still reeling, he lead Raoul- and the fuming Erik- back to the clearing where he and Pali had dumped all their belongings, beginning to gather the few possessions so that they could move to this inn and the golden promise of a real bed and good food. "Really, you don't have to offer us such a thing."
"No, I want to. It is the least I can do to demonstrate how thankful I am that you have clearly been taking some form of care over Christine in my absence." He faltered, turning his head to glance timidly at Erik, who glowered back with no less anger and loathing in his eyes. He had not been won over, and intended that he never would be. "The truth of the matter is that...well, I am afraid to say that my part in all this mess, as you call it, extends miserably further than an order to some street thugs. Whilst I have not behaved in the vindictive, evil manner you originally thought of me, I...I am the furthest thing from innocent. This is why, before I tell you the truly pathetic tale of my idiocy, I ask you-" his eyes were locked upon Erik, "- that you will forgive me, for all these foolish acts I have committed and also for- for trying to- to- it was wrong. I regret it more than I will ever regret anything."
If Raoul had been hoping for a response from Erik, he must have been disappointed, for Erik stubbornly held onto his moody silence as they set off through the moist, leafy woodland- Erik also resolutely ignored Nadir's feeble attempts to drag him into the awkward conversation he had struck up with the Vicomte, just as he also forced himself to remain silent and hold back all the insults and derogatory comments he wanted to hiss and spit and bellow whenever Raoul did speak. There was something so incredibly irritating about the Vicomte, and Erik was bristling with annoyance just to be walking in close proximity to him, having to hear his baby voice and all the utterly stupid things that came tumbling from his mouth. He spoke in a cautious manner, Erik noted irritably, as if he were timid and searching for approval- but when he spoke about Christine, if he even said her name, his voice ceased to be so limp and lisping, instead growing warm and strong. Erik's urges to kill him, or at least pin him to a tree and leave him there, followed suit.
What made the matter even more infuriating was that Erik knew he had no real reason to be angry anymore, and he could practically feel the disapproving stare of Nadir jabbing him in the back of the neck. At the opera house, Erik had loathed this gushing member of the aristocracy and had watched him secure in the knowledge that the man was indeed a fop, with a childish immaturity that lead to jealously, self obsession and a shallow fixation on material matters. Even Nadir had agreed that Raoul de Chagny lacked strength and the mature appreciation for things other than wealth and good looks. But now it seemed that Raoul had matured, and it meant that he was being nauseatingly pleasant and generous. Erik wanted to throw the pompous offers of shelter right back in his charming face, not wanting the charity of his sworn rival and also very aware that Christine was now truly alone and vulnerable in that barbaric gypsy camp, but if he did such a thing then he would never hear Raoul's knowledge of just what had occurred to Christine Daae.
It was odd, to the point that an evil headache began to hammer at his temples with the thought of it, that he was going to sleep in rooms paid for by a man who was both a rival and a threat, and this oddity became more and more painful as they reached the inn and took seats around a small table in the dingy corner of the bar. The atmosphere was not dissimilar to the place where Erik and Pali had met by surprise not that long ago, and although it provided some distraction, Erik could not escape the fact that he was sat opposite Raoul de Chagny and had no choice but to engage in conversation with the fop.
"Before we explain to you, Vicomte, the more recent occurrences as well as the...well, current circumstances, it would perhaps be a good idea if you would tell us the details we are ignorant of- starting chronologically would make the most sense, I think. Start with the attack under the opera house, the night of Don Juan and the chandelier fall." Nadir urged in a low voice, trying to avoid being heard by the curious barmaid, who watched them with interested eyes. Erik turned and glared at her, and she turned away terrified.
"Leave out nothing from your story." Erik spoke in a threatening whisper, his fists tightly curled and resting on the table in front of him like an unspoken threat- Raoul did not need to nod, for the fear in his eyes was evidence that he would not dare to deceive them.
Nadir gave Erik a half-hearted nudge of disapproval, before gesturing towards the now decidedly pale Raoul. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and began.
"You already know that the night of the Phantom's opera, your opera I should say, the managers and myself had come to an agreement that was intended to capture or kill you, to end the reign of terror over the Opera Populaire. I arranged for the police to come to the opera, and positioned in many places around the auditorium, they were under strict instruction to shoot you. Whether we captured or killed you would not matter- the aim was, quite simply, to get rid of you for good." Raoul directed all the words at Erik. "We had Christine's agreement- her presence upon the stage was guaranteed to lure you in. It seemed as if the whole place was secured, and everyone felt at ease with the arrangements." Raoul paused, seeing Erik's expression tighten- his heart lurched painfully at the mention of Christine's agreement, a bitter reminder of what his madness had done. "But I was not at ease. I knew that you were a master of escape, of illusion and magic, and I felt certain that you would evade us easily. So, unknown to anyone else, I decided to take matters a little further into my own hands; I found a group of strong men in the streets and paid them to hang around the back alleys and rooftops that surrounded the opera house, just in case you escaped. "
Raoul's face twisted with regret and anger, his features flushing as he stared down at his clasped hands, suddenly unable to look Erik or Nadir in the eyes.
"Everything was going perfectly. Christine went on stage as she had promised, the policemen were all in position, and as we had all hoped you took the place of the lead tenor and went out on stage with Christine- you were exposed to all the guns, vulnerable and in plain sight. I waited to give the signal, preferring to wait until Christine was well out of the way, but then things stopped going to plan." Raoul's voice was saturated with misery. "When Christine kissed you, and then when you both escaped the chandelier and vanished together, I confess that jealously and anger distorted my common sense. In a rage, convinced that you must have warped her mind again, I left the managers box and went to the men in the streets- I told them that they were to come with me, that the man we were trying to hunt down had stolen away a girl and that we must get her back. I believed you had kidnapped Christine- I wanted to save her."
"Oh, of course Vicomte!" Erik hissed, ignoring Nadir's hushed order to be quiet. "Because that is of course the rational explanation- all young women willingly kiss their kidnappers shortly before they are abducted! She chose me, you selfish ape! Why is that so difficult to comprehend?!"
Nadir, fuming, slammed his hand over Erik's mouth and urged the Vicomte to continue. He did so, but clearly unwillingly.
"We- that is myself and the men I had hired- found Madame Giry amongst the chaos (a small fire had broken out in the front rows and orchestra pit it seemed). She was desperately trying to get through the crowds to Christine's dressing room, trying to get to you and ensure that you were alright, and I seized the opportunity. I told her that the men with me were police, that I had changed my opinions of the Opera Ghost after he had saved the life of my fiancée, and that the police had reason to believe that the chandelier fall had been as assassination attempt against the Phantom- I told Madame Giry that we were going to save you and Christine. The panic and the chaos must have made her so trusting of me, for she told me how to reach your lair below the opera and then fled to find her daughter." Raoul stopped at the sight of Erik's furious expression. "I know I lied to her, the most atrocious lies, and I am so sorry for that. We all pulled our hats low, and our scarves up high, and then we made our way to your home beneath the opera following the route we had been given. Before we arrived, I told the men that they were to retrain you whilst I rescued Christine- I will be honest, I didn't care if you lived or died, so long as Christine was safely recovered. I never meant for Christine to get hurt, to fall like that, but I confess that having her unconscious made it easier for me to take her and leave. I escaped across the lake and left the men do to with you whatever they pleased- I no longer cared, I only wanted to get out of the city."
Raoul seemed to reach the end of what he could force himself to tell, gazing down at his hands with an agonised expression. Erik was too busy trying to restrain himself from throttling the Vicomte to notice his facial expressions- he was furious that the insolent pup had dared to lie to Antoinette Giry, to trick her in such a foul manner-! Antoinette was a dear friend to him, one of the few people in the world who seemed to care whether he lived or died, and Erik was certain that if she ever discovered what Raoul had done after she had told him how to find Erik, she would feel as if the whole ordeal was her fault. The thought alone made Erik furious, and when he looked up and saw that Raoul's eyes were filled with pain, he snorted. He was in no mood to offer even a shred of sympathy to this fool- it was just as Nadir had said; Raoul had decided to take justice into his own hands, and it had ended horribly.
"Vicomte?" Nadir prompted, his voice kind- he evidently was not as irritated as Erik. "Please, do not feel uneasy. There is no need to worry about what you have to say- we will not blame you, or judge you, not now. Anyway, I'm sure Erik knows that his actions as the Opera Ghost lead to any people being angry and murderous- heaven knows I contemplated it myself several times."
Charming Daroga, how warmed I am by your loyal friendship, Erik thought bitterly as Raoul looked up and gave a half-hearted chuckle.
"It is not so much the pain of what I have already told you that worries me, but rather what I have yet to explain. This next part of the tale is embarrassing and horrible to tell, for it reminds me of what I fool I was." Raoul sighed, and Erik perked up at the promise of embarrassment. He leaned forwards, making Raoul look alarmed.
"We will not judge- we simply need to know, so that we can all come together and effectively help Christine." Nadir reminded him in a firm but kind tone, and Raoul nodded in the resigned manner of a man who has worked himself up to the challenge of doing something horrific, knowing that backing out now will be just as painful as the actual act he dreads.
"Once I had Christine, I took her away into the night, out of Paris on horseback with the intention of eventually reaching my family's summer home in the south- my intention was to avoid all the uproar that was likely to be brewing in Paris, after the chandelier fall." He sounded almost wistful, imagining what could have been- a shattering pastime that Erik was all too familiar with. "With Christine unconscious, and just one horse, I rode for as long as I could but eventually I had to stop at an inn. Christine was still out cold, and I realised as I put her to bed in a room that her head seemed badly injured- I consulted the inn keepers wife, who said that head wounds bleed a lot even if the damage is minimal, so she suggested that we let Christine sleep off the shock and that I take her to a doctor in the morning. She was in no danger."
Erik put his head in his hands- he could imagine the scene too well, Christine bedraggled and bloody, unconscious and pale looking, everyone around her oblivious to the fact that even though her wound might not be dangerous, she had still been damaged mentally. If he had been there, he would never have been content to wait a whole night- he would have walked with her in his arms to the nearest doctor if that was the only way.
"Exhausted and with nothing to occupy my mind, I settled into the bar-a few men who were already there had seen me come in, and had seen the bloodied state of Christine. Feeling sorry for me they bought me drinks, suggesting that we play some cards to take my mind off of it. In my naivety, I never thought that they could have sinister intentions- by the time the gambling properly started, they had succeeded in getting me completely inebriated, encouraging me until I was betting ridiculous amounts. Of course they were cheats, and I lost all my money to them." Raoul seemed to have reached the worst part of his story and he looked nauseous. "Because of the drink and the weariness, I had been quite free with my words all evening- I am still not quite sure what exactly I told them, but I had been moaning to them about the ordeal I had suffered in Paris. I made some comment that my fiancée upstairs was a world famous soprano, that it didn't matter how much I had lost to them because her singing would earn me back my wealth, something stupid like that. When I drunkenly went upstairs to bed, as soon as I opened the door to the room they attacked me, knocked me out cold. When I came to, they were gone and so was Christine." Raoul's voice seemed to gain speed, bordering on hysterical as he finished his tale with the final bitter details. "Of course I went straight to the innkeeper, demanding to know where she had gone, where the men had taken her- the man told me that the men were gypsies, and that I had been a fool to brag about wealth and riches to such people, but how was I to know?! I tore out of the inn and searched the whole town, eventually coming across one of them, and I fought him, screaming at him to tell me where he had taken her- but he just laughed in my face! He said that my soprano would bring him much more than riches, and I managed to cut him with my dagger before collapsing in the street."
Raoul stopped, his breathing ragged and his pupils wide in hysteria.
"I began my search for her that same day- I tracked down the gypsy clan, following their disgusting trail of evil through the countryside- for months and months I searched, and I have found her!" Raoul slammed his fists down upon the table, tears dribbling down his face. "I have found my Christine, and I will free her from those- those animals."
There was empty silence around the table, Raoul suddenly letting his head droop in shame and misery, Nadir staring at him with a gape of astonishment, and Erik...Erik was frozen. He shook his head slowly, the words not quite sinking in. His Christine, his beloved Christine, was stuck in that slave trade of a clan all because her supposedly charming fiancée had gambled whilst drunk? His Christine, his perfect Christine, had been discussed as if she were merely some money making tool and had then been passed about like a tradable commodity? His Christine, the woman who had restored light and love to his pitiful existence, had been alone and scared and vulnerable because the man she had consented to marry was so useless he had practically offered her to the gypsies?
And now, the very man who had caused all this mess wanted to LIBERATE HER? The words finally penetrated the frozen Erik, suddenly making sense to him...and he went mad.
"YOU BASTARD!" he exploded, standing up and grabbing Raoul by the neck this time, wrenching him out of his seat, knocking the chairs and table flying as he dragged him outside with the intent to beat him into a bloody pulp. "How could you?! HOW COULD YOU?!"
"Wait, please!" Raoul gagged and choked, Erik's grip on his neck far too tight to breathe properly. He could feel his head start to feel thick, the world spinning slowly. "Listen to me! She's alright! She's alive in the gypsy clan- we can free her! I really don't see why you're so angry- I don't see what the problem is!"
"YOU FOOL! YOU BUMBLING, INCOHERENT, BLOCKHEADED ASS!" Erik bellowed, pinning Raoul to the unforgiving hard wall of the inn and ensuring that he was uncomfortably tightly pressed against the rough surface. "You don't understand anything! The fall, when your harebrained attempt to grab her pushed her against the floor, the head injury you so ignorantly assumed to be trivial- you don't even know what you have done to her! You have broken her, Raoul de Chagny! She hit her head, cracked it against the stone, and now she remembers nothing! She has lost every memory she possesses, you filthy dog! She can recall nothing, NOTHING, after her father's death. Eleven years, Raoul de Chagny. Eleven years of experiences and people and moments and emotion. All obliterated by your jealous rage, your incompetence! You don't see what the problem is. Well, here is one minor issue we face; SHE DOESN'T EVEN REMEMBER WHO WE ARE!"
"No...no, you must be mistaken, that is not even possible!" Raoul sounded winded, falling to his knees as soon as Erik let go of him. He landed on the hard cobble stones without a sound, shocked into silence, but Erik began to sob out the frustration he felt boiling inside his chest- the anger that his one love in the world had been destroyed by such laughable, preventable things. "Oh God."
Nadir was stood a little distance from both men, watching them united again, this time in grief and anger and self loathing for all that had happened. He did not know how he was meant to console them- he watched as Erik too fell to his knees, shaking with the now silent tears, beginning to punch the stones of the courtyard. Nadir rushed over to him, begging him to stop being so mad, but Erik found her could not stop, even as his knuckles screamed in protest. Finally he fell back and lay there on the muck strewn floor, staring up at the immense blackness of the night sky, finding no stars and wondering if this was destined to be his life now if Christine never did recall her memories, or if Raoul somehow managed to steal her away from him. He could not survive an eternity in the dark, not now that he had felt what it was like to have her beside him.
Nadir harshly yanked Erik up from the floor, inspecting his knuckles and swearing when he saw a mashed up mess of skin and blood. He turned towards Raoul, seeing that he too was on the floor, frozen, muttering away to himself- the words sounded like mantra that seemed to make it all so much worse.
"It can't be...what have I done...no...oh God no..."
Nadir was surrounded by hysterical, self piteous fools. He could not take it for a moment longer.
"You both need to stop acting like fools- stop feeling sorry for yourself and pull yourself together!" he said coldly, unfeeling and unsympathetic towards these two grown men who ought to be able to remain standing, not sobbing on the floor. "Stop crying and rolling around on the floor- get up now! You need to realise that in life, what's done is done. You can't keep thinking and dwelling on things that can't be changed. And all that matters now in our particular predicament is that you get up, stop being so utterly pathetic and put your stupid feud aside so that we really can fix this dreadful mess you've both caused."
"Nadir, you can't honestly be suggesting that we cooperate with that idiot, after all he's done?!" Erik hissed.
"Oh for goodness sakes Erik!" Nadir exploded. "You both claim to love and adore Christine Daae- if you really do, then put aside your quarrelling for her sake! Surely you both must realise that it doesn't matter at the present time that you hate each other, or that she doesn't recall much of her past- all that does matter is that we protect her and get her out of that horrific gypsy camp. We have Pali with her, to protect her from Emilian, which leaves us free to formulate a plan to get her out for good, without endangering anyone- Vicomte, as I will soon explain in further detail, recently a brute of a man has returned to the gypsy tribe, and certain details regarding this man and his nature makes it somewhat impossible to simply waltz into the camp and take Christine. I have an idea, but it will require both of you."
"Monsieur." Raoul stood up quickly. "How may I assist you? I will do anything, anything at all, so long as we can free Christine from this brute."
"You have done enough already!" Erik snapped with venom.
"ENOUGH!" Nadir roared over both of them, again frustrated. They were like bickering schoolchildren, and Nadir bitterly resented the role he had apparently assumed; the wretch in charge of them both. "Vicomte, your wealth will be necessary- I hope you truly did not gamble all your money. Forgive my blunt words, but I will not lie- money is vital. And Erik- your physical capabilities speak for themselves. We will manage this- we will liberate Christine, believe me. But it will only occur if you two gentlemen cooperate with one another."
Erik and Raoul faced one another, both looking dreadful- worried, angry, upset and intensely irritated by their present situation. But they were inescapably similar in that their desperate love for Christine was worth far more than a feud. So when Raoul did extend a delicate hand, Erik took it in an amiable manner.
"We will cooperate, for Christine." Raoul said, his voice soft and with no trace of deceit.
"It is an uncomfortable, and to be frank, hideous alliance- but an alliance all the same." Erik spoke in an equally soft, unreadable voice. Then he cleared his throat and dropped the Vicomte's hand, turning instantly to Nadir. "Now then, Khan, I do believe you said you have an idea?"