Disclaimer: I am neither Andrew Lloyd Webber nor Gaston Leroux.
Author Note: It's huge apology time! A thousand apologies for the lack of updates- I was literally drowning in essays. Hopefully I can continue to update weekly, and keep the story progressing, but if I do miss a week please bear with me and trust me that I will update at some point! Thank you so much for your patience :-)
Another huge thank you to the usual suspects, the lovely reviewers from last chapter; MarilynKC, TMara, Filhound and Billy4Me. Any fluffy Erik/Christine moments in this chapter are for you guys, to say thank you for being so kind with your reviews, and for being patient despite the lack of updating. Thanks guys! :-)
And now, FINALLY, onto chapter fifteen!
Fifteen- Childhood Sweethearts
The world was wild that night- the sky dark and ominous, rolling with billowing clouds and grumbles of thunder, lighting up with brilliant flashes every so often to reveal where the smoky clouds thinned out to the immense black of the night sky. The air felt alive and alert, almost crackling with the energy of the storm, the humidity so thick that any movement felt as if it were through some sticky substance, like honey or syrup. Christine Daae had heard the low growls of thunder when she had been stuck in the stuffy tent with all the other women, sewing the ripped clothing and sacking-like material of the tents themselves, and as she was walked to Pali's tent by a grim faced gypsy she had wanted desperately to stop and stand still amongst the energy and power of nature, to tip her head back and drink up the angry sky above her. Pali hadn't been there when she reached the tent, only Rose, who shook her head at the storm and muttered something to herself about the idiot getting wet (Christine could only assume that 'the idiot' was referring to Pali).
Rose hadn't understood her request- to go and stand outside and feel the atmosphere of the storm- and had encouraged Christine in a motherly voice to stop being silly and to just go to bed. She had obeyed the gently spoken command of this woman, changing into a nightdress and taking her curls out of the woven plait, laying down in the darkness and listening to the rain and the thunder and the soft breathing of the sleeping Rose. But she couldn't sleep- whenever she did, she was vulnerable and helpless against the onslaught of nightmares and also the pain of thinking about what could have been, had Erik not left her here. Christine couldn't decide what was worse; the hideous nightmares that made her wake herself with her own maddened screams, or the dreams she so desperately wanted to be real- to have Erik appear at the door of the tent, smiling, holding out his hand and beckoning her to join him. Even closing her eyes brought sadness, as she saw his face in the darkness there and her heart contracted with such misery she thought it would shatter, unable to bear the anguish anymore.
Unable to sleep, and too frantic with her own thoughts to simply lay there and savour the peace, she got up and left the tent- Pali was still not back from wherever he had disappeared to, and Rose was sound asleep. She slipped out of the stale air of the tent and into the outside, taking a deep breath of cool, fresh air and closing her eyes as the sensation of bliss overcame her. The world had calmed, the sky no longer raging and erupting with thunder and blasts of lightening, and the thick cloud had cleared to reveal the emptiness of the universe above her.
There was no-one around, no gypsies prowling, no mean faced men to chase her back into the tent- Christine knew that if she ran fast enough, and didn't look back, she might just be able to make it out of the camp and far enough away that Emilian wouldn't be able to find her. But it was as if the beauty of such a simplistic moment had paralysed her; she didn't feel any sense of urgency, of relief at the chance of freedom. In a trance, she took a few light steps through the damp grass, her bare toes tingling with the cold, and leaned against the trunk of the nearest tree, feeling her shoulders slump as she stood there and merely stared at the world.
I am so small compared to everything, she thought distantly, so insignificant in the face of nature and time and things never ending. It feels as if my world has ended, and yet it hasn't- everything continues, regardless of me and my misery. I am nothing.
Oddly content with such a depressing conclusion, she stood up straight and stepped out into the open, no longer sheltered from the light rain but not caring as she gazed up at the vast expanse of that black, endless sky where the glimmer of stars could just be made out amongst the wisps of cloud that were slipping silently across that dark canvas. The pattering rain drops were fairy kisses to her face; the cool rain and the unbelievable serenity of the night was so perfect that she laughed and tipped her head back, lifting her arms up and spinning slowly, knowing that if anyone saw her they would think she was intoxicated or under some sort of hypnosis. It was almost comforting to feel the cold shock of raindrops colliding with her skin- in this light rain, she could allow the trapped tears to escape down her face and she could pretend that they were also raindrops, not the undisputable evidence of her weakness.
Suddenly her trance like state froze and shattered. A hand clamped down on her shoulder, pulling her roughly out of the rain and her peaceful moment with the stars and the clouds, and she turned in both surprise and sick terror as her mind began to whirl, wildly thinking of just who was dragging her back into the trees. She opened her mouth to scream, suddenly all those urges to run away flooding her, her mind turning accusing against her- why didn't you just run while you had the chance?!
Of course, there was a small and irrepressible part of her that thought this hand on her shoulder could belong to Erik. It was a sick hope that she immediately crushed, wistful longing turning to dread as she began to wriggle and try to break free, thinking that this might be one of Emilian's brainless lackeys come to collect her on his behalf. She had been astonishingly successful in hiding from that beast so far, quivering like a leaf in a hurricane whenever any of the men came into the tent where she was sat amongst all the other young women, always certain that this would be it, no more lucky escapes- the request for her to come to Emilian's tent, alone...
The mere thought of it, what he and his barbaric minions wanted and joked about, made her innocent cheeks flush with a livid red and her heart freeze in cold terror. She didn't know much about such things, and her ignorance made the whole thing worse- what would such a thing feel like? What was even involved in such...such primal and embarrassing occurrences? And, perhaps more importantly, had she ever had that sort of intimate contact with a man before?
Judging her repulsion and her fiery blushes at the mention of the male fascination, she doubted it fiercely, trying desperately to push away the memories of certain feelings she had experienced in those blissful days and evenings spent in Erik's company, feelings that had the terrifying potential to explain some of the questions she would never dare to ask. But despite whatever strange sensations she might have felt around Erik, Christine was still disgusted by the idea of such animalistic behaviour. No matter how the other women cackled and teased her, or how the men tried to pull her towards them and whisper filthy rewards for such behaviour, she wanted to remain untouched by their disgusting hands, to be innocent of their aggressive desires and their tormenting dominance. She clung to this as a sign of her true liberty; even though they held her captive and forced her to cook and clean and sing for their gain, they would never possess such a power of her body- she would never allow them to degrade her so far that she became nothing but a cheap pleasure. They may treat her like the wild young horse needing breaking in, but Christine was determined to be as stubborn and difficult to break as possible. She would never willingly conform to their ways, ever.
She eventually managed to wriggle free to such an extent that she had free arms, so she reached round and pounded the stranger about the head as hard as she could, hearing him swear violently as his hold on her disappeared. She tumbled to the damp ground, scrabbling to get up and to run, but as she looked up through the tangled mass curls that exploded around her face, her heart gave a great shudder of relief and the adrenaline stopped pounding through her veins- it was only Pali.
His face was badly bruised and swollen still from when he had so selflessly thrown himself between her and the grasping hands of Emilian and Christine felt terrible , knowing that her valiant attempts to wriggle free were bound to have inflicted further pain. She got up from the ground and pushed her hair back, breathing hard, and she forced her eyes to look at that damaged face- the face of a man she had, in the past, scorned and never taken seriously. She had always held bitter resentment against him and his allegiance to the clan who were responsible for her captivity, but now as she looked at him she realised that her impression of Pali had been the furthest from correct. He was a good man, an astonishingly good man. And right now he looked more miserable than she had ever seen him.
"Pali." She tried to muster some warmth in her voice, to demonstrate her appreciation for all he had done for her recently, but she failed miserably. She sounded as miserable and deflated as he looked, only there was something else odd about Pali- he looked as if he had been haunted by something, so that it was preying on his mind. She didn't know if she had the courage or the tact to ask him what was wrong, fearing that hearing of someone else's depression might just make her feel worse. "What brings you here, in the rain at this hour? Rose didn't know where you had gone earlier, she was worried about you."
"Surely I could ask you the same? You do realise how dangerous it is to be out of the tent- you're supposed to be under my constant guard, and I don't know what would happen to either of us if anyone saw you out, alone." Pali sounded cold and bitter, which made Christine feel like she wanted to cry again. He had been beaten and tormented to ensure her well being- he had sacrificed so much for her, offering her a chance at some freedom from Emilian and the other elders. But now it seemed he had also sacrificed his happy nature, his bubbly personality; he had been so carefree, so filled with joy and utterly ridiculous, and now he was drooping and unable to even bring some warmth to his eyes. Christine could not help but feel that this was all her fault, and she felt terrible for it.
"Yes. It was stupid of me, I suppose." She replied in a small voice, bending her head and trying to stop the silly tears from showing, biting her lip hard to keep them in. "I'm sorry Pali, for everything I've done, for all the pain and destruction I've caused. You and Rose, you've been so good to me, and I...I..."
She felt Pali take her hand, and she looked up and saw that his face has softened, his eyes pooled with guilt.
"Don't you dare say that, Christine. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for- nothing that has happened is your fault, and I never want you to believe otherwise." He said in a fiercely protective voice, shocking her into silence. "Now, please don't cry. I...I have exciting news for you."
"Exciting?" Christine asked with a gasp. "Oh dear God, please tell me that Emilian is dead."
"No, unfortunately. That would be more a miracle, than exciting. Anyway, this news is better than Emilian dropping down dead." Pali's face suddenly broke into a small smile, a mere hint of his old glorious grin but still holding the power to cheer Christine up considerably. It put the mottled black and blue bruises on his face to shame. "I don't know the best way to say this, but I have just recently spoken to Nadir Khan. Erik's companion."
At the mention of Erik's name, Christine's heart did an odd and unexplainable thing inside her chest- it contracted, suddenly tight and filling her stomach with a swirling mix of nervous delight and hysterical joy. I must be calm and rational, she tried to tell herself sternly, this could be nothing at all- I mustn't get carried away, I mustn't let myself be so disappointed again-
"What he told me can be condensed into one important fact- Christine, he told me that Erik hasn't left you." Pali continued, watching as the girl before him suddenly seemed to glow with pure joy, her face drained pale in shock but her eyes suddenly sparkling with the energy she had been lacking these last days. Pali felt his own heart squeeze tight, not wanting to put Erik within Emilian's reach again, not wanting his oldest friend to become entrapped once more within the confines of this festering clan. But how could he obstruct this plan Nadir had told him about now that he had seen Christine's reaction to finding the truth about Erik's disappearance? The girl looked happier than he had ever seen her, and he knew with a certainty that made him smile a little to himself that Erik's own joy to see her again tonight would put Christine's reaction to shame. Oh, love is mad, he thought with the ancient air of sadness he had sometimes seen in Nadir's eyes whilst watching Erik and Christine singing of an evening in the camp. "The truth of the matter is that he and Nadir left the clan whilst they still could, aware that if Emilian realised they were there he would not take too kindly to the intrusion of outsiders. They are currently devising a way with which they can get you out of here, so that they might take you to Paris with them."
"That...that is...oh my goodness, Pali, it is so wondrous, it cannot be true!" she sounded astonished, squeezing his hands and rewarding him with a beaming smile. "Oh, I cannot thank you enough, you have restored me!"
"But that is not all; in a short while, Erik and Nadir will come here in the darkness, keeping hidden from any possible watching eyes, to talk to you and explain the details in person. They can't take you with them now, there are too many complications and it might end badly for Rose and I if you were to suddenly escape, but the end is coming Christine. You will not be trapped here in this- this barbaric place for much longer." Pali practically exploded as he said the words, and Christine's frantically beating heart seemed to follow suit, flooding her veins with a dizzy, drunk sort of warmth that seemed to overshadow every pain and dreadful feeling of rejection she had endured over these last hideous few days.
It didn't seem real, more like a part of those wistful dreams that made her heart ache deep inside her- Erik had not left her! He hadn't abandoned her; he wasn't one of those typical men Adriana had spoken of so smugly! And she would see him again, soon-!
The haunted look of despair and guilt mingled into one melancholy cloud seemed to have left Pali's eyes, as if he were warmed to see her so hysterically happy. She looked at him, and he looked at her, each of them taking in the others flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, and at once they began to laugh together in glorious synchronisation. The explosion of joy that erupted from them both sounded as if the trouble with Emilian hadn't occurred. When he was laughing like that, the hideous cuts and bruises on the gypsy's face seemed to disappear completely- Christine, too, felt as if all the aggravation and despair had faded away instantly. It was a precarious situation to be in, as if everything fell through and ended badly it was likely to hurt even more now that she had allowed herself to succumb to optimism and hope again, but the joy was too glorious to stop.
Her heart, a long dead weight, a burden, a cold lump of metal stuck jaggedly in her chest, was now leaping and pounding over and over against her ribcage as if urging her to find Erik immediately, demanding to know exactly where he was.
"Oh Pali, Pali-!" he burst out, suddenly leaning in to kiss his cheek before giving a euphoric cry and flinging her arms fully around his scrawny frame. "This must be a dream- this is so wondrous, so perfect!"
"It will be even more so once those fools actually arrive." Pali patted her back slightly awkwardly, not used to such displays of affection from anyone but Rose, but smiling all the same. Christine's reaction had calmed his worries for now- if Erik and Christine really found such happiness in each other, it would be the work of a mad fool to prevent them from finding one another.
"When will they arrive?" Christine sounded like a child, over excited and desperately pleading with a stern parent, bordering on hysteria. "How soon?"
"Nadir will not risk being seen, and neither will I allow them to take such a risk. They will wait for the right moment. But do not fear- as soon as they arrive, I will tell you and bring you to them. They won't be able to stay for long, Christine, you must understand that. They will only stay the required time to explain to you the-"
"Then I had better go and get dressed, hadn't I?" Christine interrupted him as she grimaced down at her nightgown with irritation, before her hands went to her matted curls and the look turned to one of horror. Pali found himself laughing at the sight, patting her arm and feeling strangely pleased to see that Christine had become a normal person again- with the right to fuss over her clothes and hair, rather than how to evade a lecherous, sadistic gypsy clan leader.
Pali only knew Christine for what she was now- he had never known her as anything but the ragged, slightly weak, vulnerable girl who his clan had picked up from a bar, injured and scared half to death as a result. He had never seen her as the glittering, glamorous soprano who had won the hearts of all who listened to her seraphic voice; he had vague memories of reading about her talent in a newspaper, some time ago, but what did cold newspaper print ever reveal about a person? But even though Pali only knew this, apparently false, version of Christine Daae, he could still see a little of what made her so amazing to a man like Erik. She seemed, without meaning to do so, to evoke something within everyone around her that made you feel oddly protective of her, paternal almost- perhaps it was because she was so ignorant of the world, or that she was constantly yearning for someone to love her and protect her. Pali knew that being orphaned, as he knew Christine was, could do many things to a person- they might become resilient and strong, they might become warped with hatred and resentment, they might become someone a little like Erik or they might be like Christine; lost.
Pali had always thought that Christine was lost. Even when she was with Erik, smiling and having the time of her life, there was still a look in her eyes that told him she didn't truly know what she wanted, who she was. And the nature of that look told Pali that her lack of direction or stability had existed before she lost her memory- if he had to guess, he would have thought that Christine had been afflicted with a great weakness and tendency to rely on others rather than be strong ever since her father had died and left her all alone.
"I'll leave you to change, then." He smiled at her, watching her rush back into the tent and shaking his head sadly as she disappeared from sight. Pali did not know many things for certain, but what he did know was that Christine's weakness, her complete lack of self believe or strength, could only end badly. And a pessimistic part of him knew that if it ended badly for Christine, it would end badly for Erik too.
With a sigh, he moved silently through the shadows of the dark, walking to the edge of the camp to watch and to wait.
Almost an hour later...
Erik tried not to look at either of his two 'companions' as they crept silently through the damp, mossy woodland. The darkness was thick and clutched at him, making it difficult even for he- the Phantom, the master of night- to see where he was going. It was taking every ounce of his concentration to keep himself from tripping on one of the evil tree roots that were so devilishly placed in the undergrowth, waiting wickedly to catch his feet and bring him tumbling down to greet the woodland floor. It didn't help that he was practically trembling with both nerves and anticipation, greatly reducing his usually razor sharp senses, and several times when either clumsy Nadir or the bumbling fop snapped a twig he had to force himself not to jump out of his skin and leap upon the nearest person, thinking them an attacker rather than the idiots accompanying him.
Accompanying him. Erik's head still hurt to think about the concept, that Raoul was now apparently classed as a companion, joining him and Nadir on this potentially dangerous visit to Christine. Raoul's presence was comparable to having a sharp knife constantly dangling over his head, reminding him with every step that this meeting was bound to be the first competitive act between them, jostling for Christine's attention, and that he must be constantly alert and aware so as to notice any underhanded tricks before Raoul could use them to any real advantage. Despite their agreement earlier, and the slight decrease in animosity between them (Erik gritted his teeth and mentally reminded himself that the animosity was all his own, seeing as the fop had taken a similar moral route to stoic Saint Nadir and was now insisting that he wanted to be the best of friends) Erik could not bring himself to feel comfortable about the present situation. He still could not shake off the peculiar sensations of having someone constant stumbling after him, trying to be friendly- Erik was so used to harsh treatment, even from those he considered friends, that Raoul was constantly unnerving him and leaving him paranoid that this might all be an elaborate trick.
What a way to taint and spoil and evening that is meant to be good, Erik thought bitterly, practically tearing the branches off of the trees as he wrenched them out of the way in order to avoid being smacked in the face as he stormed along in the darkness.
The damp carpet of fallen foliage beneath their feet was a blessing, no matter how perilous it might be to cross, constantly dreading the presence of some hidden rock or root that would lead to tripping, falling and a disturbance loud enough to bring the gypsies running with their daggers- the rotting and fallen leaves cushioned each footfall, and meant that when they did finally arrive at the camp perimeter, Pali did not notice their presence until Erik walked right up to him, lifting his fedora a little and yanking down the scarf he had pulled up over his mouth, revealing his unimpressed face.
Of course, he hadn't been expecting to see the loathsome decoration of black and blue bruises all over Pali's face. It took him completely by surprise, filling him with a sudden feeling of rage, and Erik at once had to force himself not to think of stalking into the depth of the festering camp with the intent of ripping Emilian's eyeballs from his sockets. It was one thing to be a vile, barbaric drunkard, and even worse to be the leader of a clan which relied upon slavery and cruelty, but to inflict such torment on your own people as easily as that? Erik shuddered, remembering from his time in the clan that the gypsies regarded their tribe as the most important thing, like a family, a blood heritage that made them united in such a way it made all other allegiances disloyal and wrong. Emilian turning on Pali would be equivalent to Erik turning on Nadir, or even further than that, for someone such as Antoinette Giry to turn on her daughter Meg. He shuddered at the horror of it; barbaric ways, he thought with disgust and anger, do they never change?
"Erik!" Pali gasped with such a look of happiness on his face it was almost unnerving, suddenly giving Erik a vice tight hug. Erik was alarmed, and became even more so when he saw that Pali's eyes were wet with joy. "I'm so glad that you are alright, you seem well! I take it the, er, head injury is fully recovered?"
"Indeed it is fully recovered, no thanks to you, you idiotic creature." Erik said in a dark voice, only now remembering that the last time he had seen Pali he had been knocked unconscious with the barrel of a gun and unceremoniously dragged into the woods. Rather than looking worried, or annoyed at the anger in Erik's tone, Pali looked overjoyed. Erik shook his head in disbelief and decided that the gypsy truly was insane. "But never mind me. Your appearance would suggest that you have suffered far worse than I did. Are...are you alright, Pali?"
"Goodness gracious, Erik, are you actually asking after my health?" Pali laughed softly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake anyone in the camp. "I'm fine- I've been far worse, I'm sure. And she'll be here in just a minute, Erik, you needn't look so concerned." He dropped his voice another level, his eyes drifting over to where Nadir and Raoul were stood together talking, a few metres away. "Who's that, over by Nadir?"
"Christine's fiancé." Erik replied indifferently, not even bothering to put any emotion into the words. Pali opened his mouth to demand an explanation, clearly taken aback by the response and how blasé Erik sounded considering the nature of what he had just said- of course, Pali didn't know that the bland tone came from Erik's continual efforts not to pin the Vicomte to a tree and leave him there.
But the gypsy's protest never came. For at that moment, Christine appeared at the edge of the camp, stepping out from behind a large tree and into the clearing where Pali and Erik were stood. Erik's eyes locked onto her as soon as he saw her, as if it would be physically painful to look anywhere else but at her- the rest of the world faded away, he could no longer see or hear or feel anything that did not centre around her. His heartbeat came to a crescendo as his eyes swept over her and confirmed that she was unscathed and perfect as ever, to his relief. He savoured the look of her gorgeous curls, tied back to expose the elegant shape of her neck, her wide brown eyes, her vibrant dress. She looked oddly optimistic, bubbling with life and optimism as her gaze swept over the clearing, and Erik felt his mouth dry up as her eyes met his own.
There was a moment of frozen silence, where nobody seemed to move or even breathe- but then, as rapidly as water exploding from a dam and with as much force, Christine ran straight at Erik and threw her arms around him with all her might, burying her face into his chest and clinging onto him with all the strength she possessed, making him stagger backwards as he caught her in his arms.
Erik's reaction to her was, for once, instantaneous and not slowed by idiotic moments of being too dazed to react or move- he wrapped his arms tightly around her, shivering with the delight of feeling her cling to him as if he were all that could ever matter to her, kissing the top of her head and those wild curls, murmuring sweet nothings and apologies and anything at all to her as she continued to bury her face into his chest, refusing to let go. Was she crying? Was she angry with him? Or was she just insanely happy, just as he was? Erik did not know, or indeed care, for she was in his arms and savouring such a sweet miracle happily took up all of his consciousness. He could have shot a smug look in the direction of Raoul if he wanted to, just to demonstrate that this time around he was not completely unappealing to her, but there was no need- this bliss, holding onto Christine, was far sweeter than a victory in the childish contest he and the Vicomte were staging.
"Erik!" Christine was laughing as she lifted her head so that she could look up at him with those beautiful sparkling eyes of hers that always left him mesmerised. He wanted, with all his heart, to bring his lips to hers and kiss her with all the adoration and joy and love he felt- but no matter her elation to see him, she hadn't stated any sort of romantic feeling or attachment to him, so to do such a thing would be stupid and risk far too much. "Erik, Erik, Erik, you're here! You didn't leave me- you came back!"
"Of course I came back!" he replied in a disbelieving tone, seeing delight sparkle in those gorgeous eyes and smiling. "My intention to take you to Paris remains, Christine, and will always remain. I'm sorry if you were upset and thought my promise was broken- I'm sorry for any hurt I caused you."
"No, no, please don't say you're sorry, you've done no wrong! The fault is entirely mine- I was foolish enough to believe you had abandoned me. I don't know how I ever thought that was true for one moment, knowing that you are the kindest, truest, most amazing man I have ever met. I should never have doubted you for one moment, not when I know the kind of man you are." She smiled up at him, turning a little pink as he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She froze for a moment, before shyly reaching up and placing a small, sweet kiss on his surprised mouth, not lingering long enough for the kiss to deepen but leaving sweetness and euphoria when she broke off quickly. "I'm sorry, Erik, I...I have missed you so. Unbearably so."
Before the pleasantly stunned Erik had a chance to collect his thoughts to respond to her, Christine spied Nadir as he lurked in the shadows, and her face stretched into a full beaming smile. She ran over to him and thanked him profusely, obviously pouring on praise and being very appreciative, as then Erik was delighted by the sight of his old friend blushing and fidgeting like an awkward creature, not used to such praise and gushing words as a companion of the ex-Opera Ghost. He laughed at Nadir, and saw Pali smother a grin, and Erik almost forgot why he had even been tense and anxious, coming here. But then he saw Raoul, waiting patiently beside Nadir, and Erik watched as Christine caught sight of the extra member of the group, going very still as she stared at him. Erik found that he was holding his breath, not wanting to watch whatever was about to happen but unable to tear his eyes away- he was frozen in morbid curiosity as to how Christine would react.
Raoul smiled at the surprised Christine, his face gentle and open, his eyes slightly too intent and fixed upon her own. It was clear to see that he was desperately trying not to come across too familiar with her, his whole posture tense as he held back from embracing her or kissing her in relief that she really was alright- Erik had to remind himself that this was the first time Raoul had seen her after losing her over a year ago. He recalled his own moment like this, stumbling into the stuffy tent and hearing her angels voice soar and call to him, as if she were a siren, and how he had paced and raged and gone utterly mad with the knowledge of what had happened- that although he was reunited with her and so close to her, he was still so very far away. It had felt like torture, the most horrific limbo a man could ever exist in- that pain, that agony, was what Raoul was enduring right this very moment.
It was also clear from Raoul's intent expression that he was hoping she would recognise him, wishing that a memory would spark inside the void of her emptied mind as she took in his youthful face and his adoring eyes. She seemed about to say something, but then she faltered, puzzling over him, her eyes skimming over his handsome looks and gentlemanly attire. The silence, and the tension, was near unbearable.
"Good evening, Mademoiselle Daae." Raoul murmured, clearly unable to take the silence and the agony of waiting any longer. In one fluid gesture, he reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips in a deliberately courteous gesture, and Erik gritted his teeth as he saw Christine stiffen at the contact. Pali lay a restraining hand on his friends arm, but his fingers were gripping tightly, a sign of his own irritation.
"I'm sorry...I must confess that I have no idea as to who you are." She replied quickly, clearly uncomfortable with his intimate hold on her hand. She took it firmly back from him with a small, forced smile, and glanced back at Erik with a helpless expression.
"Raoul. Vicomte de Chagny." He offered in a polite voice, as if he were exchanging greetings with a total stranger. But of course they were not strangers, and of course he finally got the reaction he had been hoping for- Christine's eyes widened in amazement, her face instantaneously flushing pink as she gaped at him, her mouth opening and closing as if she were trying to speak but was unable to formulate the words. That slimy little demon, Erik thought menacingly as he watched Christine suddenly throw her arms around the Vicomte- the brat knew she would react exactly like that!
Suddenly the unexpected, sweet kiss she had given him was gone from his thoughts; all he could think was that Christine had thrown her arms around Raoul, clearly overjoyed, and that Raoul's position- whilst not entirely truthful- was far less deceitful than his own. Erik felt sick, watching them, as if realising now the true gravity of the situation he was in, how the bridges had well and truly burned. Oh God, he thought faintly as Christine drew back from the embrace and treated Raoul to her beautiful smile, what have I done? What have I done?!
"Raoul! It cannot be you!" Christine laughed, sounding like a child again, fondly touching Raoul's cheek with her fingertips, marvelling at how he had changed. His face was so adult and handsome- a million miles from the rounded, cherubic little boy she had played with. She wondered if he was as surprised by the change in her appearance as she was by his. "Goodness, it has been so long! You do recall our brief childhood together? The stories, the games, the music-?"
"Indeed I do...Little Lotte." He smiled down at her, slipping in the old nickname and making Christine giggle in delight, even clapping her hands excitedly. Raoul's eyes drifted towards Erik for a moment, and Erik could not tell if it was paranoia or merely the light that made the Vicomte look just a little smug with triumph. "It has been so long, you are entirely correct. I lost all contact with you after our time together as children, until now. Erik here informed me all about your current state, about your lack of memory. I am sorry, Christine, it must be decidedly unpleasant."
"Oh, no, don't be sorry Raoul- be happy that by some divine miracle we are reunited again, after so long spent apart!" Christine beamed at him, spinning round in a whirl of curls and colour to face Erik, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling with dizzy excitement. "Erik, I can't believe this- you must be the saint responsible for finding Raoul for me?! He was a childhood friend, he knew me and my father so well- he could be the solution to my memory loss, he could help me learn my past! Do tell me- did you find him and bring him here, for me?"
Erik waited a second before he replied, frozen by the look of utter adoration and happiness on her face. If he did go along with this monumental lie, and pretended to have single handedly managed to track down her dear childhood friend despite the fact he was supposed to have never met the man before in his life, Christine would probably declare him wondrous, if not slightly magic to accomplish such a feat. She would be likely to hug him again, perhaps even kiss him, and she would think he had gone to great lengths and endured hardships just to help her. No doubt she would think him lovelier than ever before.
Pali gave him a gentle nudge, coaxing him to go along with this attractive new storyline that had bloomed so perfectly before him, so perfect in fact it seemed more like a cue in an opera rather than reality. But no- Erik harshly corrected himself and his delusions. This, whatever it was, was most definitely not reality. All these lies, all these perfectly orchestrated scenarios, all these meticulously planned moments that came across to her as his lovely perfection, not the warped work of a conniving madman-
He felt sick of it. All this deceit, making up the facts as if they were being put aside to join a novel he was penning, not the real life of Christine. He had felt guilty about his less than truthful actions before, of course he had, but never had he felt quite so repulsed by himself. This was the woman he loved- the woman he would gladly die for, simply to make her smile! And he was lying to her, spinning a web of deception and leading her straight into it. What sort of deluded act of love was that?
What made the whole ordeal worse was that Raoul was nodding at him, encouraging him to use this golden opportunity that had so aptly presented itself- Erik stared at the Vicomte in complete horror, feeling suddenly desperate to get out of this madness, feeling crushed by the weight of his own guilt. Monsieur le Vicomte ought to know better.
"No, Christine." He said finally, the words heavy and reluctant, and her eyes lost their fantasy veil and returned to reality with a stunned blink. "That is to say, I did not find Monsieur le Vicomte and bring him here for you. Though, of course I am certain that he will be invaluable to helping you rediscover the years you have lost."
"Y-yes." Christine nodded, confused as to why she suddenly felt so cold and awkward, as if old barriers had suddenly gone back up between them. The conversation suddenly felt forced- it never had felt that way before, at least not since Erik had offered to whisk her away to Paris with him. They were friends, weren't they? Excellent friends, a bond forged in times of distress, a life saving companionship...and, Christine felt a foolish blush dust her cheeks to even think it now, surely they were edging further and further towards something far more than friendship? Something that might explain why she had spontaneously kissed him? Christine wrapped her arms around herself, hugging herself tightly, and looking away from Erik, knowing it was silly to feel hurt by his dismissive tone but wounded all the same.
She turned to look at Raoul, marvelling again at the ways he had changed, his appearance bearing little to no resemblance to that brave little boy who had gone charging into the iron waves to fetch a red scarf. His gentle features and soft eyes were warm enough that she felt comfortable around him, as if she knew instantly that he was a man who could be trusted. But there was something else about him, something about the way he looked at her with those soft eyes of his, so intently focused on her- she frowned a little, feeling awkward to think it. His eyes looked at her filled with adoration, his gaze seeking her out. He looked at her the way she imagined a man in love might gaze at the woman he adored, but it was not even this that made Christine's skin crawl- it was the fact that such a thing felt utterly normal. Right, even. As if such love and adoration was supposed to be in his eyes as he looked at her.
It was utterly ludicrous, but Christine could not deny it- a part of her seemed to think it was correct that Raoul looked at her as if he were in love with her.
"Christine, there is so much we have to talk about!" Raoul smiled earnestly, taking her hand again and unnerving her with how natural the gesture felt. "Forgive me, as this may sound a little mad, but I confess to you now that not a day has gone by since our childhood together where I did not think of you. Those days...they were the fondest of my life- they constitute my dearest memories. I cannot express enough how wonderful, how perfect it is to see you again."
This time it was Erik holding back Pali, for the gangly gypsy muttered an obscene curse under his breath and made to go and haul Raoul off into the bushes, well out of Christine's sight. He complained bitterly, in whisper, about the restraint but Erik did not release his grip on Pali's scrawny shoulder. He was bound by the deal he and Raoul had made, he had to remain silent and allow this- in truth, even if he had not been tied into such an agreement, he would not have broken up their conversation. It was the sort of reunion he wished he had been able to have, and Erik could hardly begrudge Raoul for using all the charm he had. Not when he himself was using complete lies to woo her.
"Raoul, it is not mad. I, too, treasure those memories of our childhood- my only memories, as it stands." She sounded emotional, perhaps bordering on tears, and Christine felt her heart squeeze as she looked down at hers and Raoul's clasped hands and had to close her eyes and convince herself this was not a dream- this was real. This really was the boy who had been her dearest friend and the silliest of childhood sweethearts- the answer to her confusion, her loss. "It's a huge thing to ask you, considering we are only just meeting again, but...would you, please, help me piece together the past I have forgotten?"
"Christine, I will make it my mandate." He vowed in a mock princely manner, making her laugh as Pali mimed the action of vomiting in disgust, enthusiastic in his irritation and distaste. Raoul glanced at the direction the sound was coming from, and seemed to realise something. "But we can't start that now- we must go, Christine, else those barbarians in the camp might wake up and the whole plan will be ruined. We must leave you now."
"Plan?!" Christine asked frantically. "You haven't even explained a thing about this plan of yours! You can't go now! Please Raoul, Erik, I beg of you! Stay just an hour more- we still have so much to discuss, and the gypsies are unlikely to hear us if we are quiet!"
Erik looked again at the hands of Christine and Raoul, still clasped, and he turned away. He felt ancient with sadness, with regret, and most of all foolishness- why had he allowed himself to become so entangled within something that had the capacity to break his heart into a million pieces? He couldn't blame Christine for any of this, innocent to her past and clueless as to why he looked so dejected, and even Raoul was innocent for once in his irritating existence. Any faults were his own, and Erik felt so saddened and burdened by his own thoughts that he felt he could not stay there a moment longer.
"Raoul will explain it all." He murmured, turning and walking from them and the clearing without hesitation, feeling as if he were drifting, not walking. Pali watched him go, slack jawed, and Nadir shot a quick glance at Raoul, seeing the young mans face explode with shock and hurt and pure misery that made him frown in confusion. But he had no time to dwell on that- instead, he murmured a quick goodbye and went hurrying after Erik into the dark of the woods, his irritated demands as to what exactly was going on inside Erik's insane mind already burning on the tip of his tongue.
"Come on then, Christine, I suppose I had better tell you the details." Raoul said, sounding glum, and Pali snorted and turned on his heel, storming away from the clearing.
The brat had clearly made things difficult for Erik concerning Christine, and Pali felt enraged by this- he had not agreed to let Erik risk being caught by Emilian only for some pretty boy to come swaggering in to steal the limelight. Pali glanced back at where Raoul and Christine were stood close together, talking, and he muttered a curse under his breath- as irrational as it seemed, he already despised the stupid young man and all the fops like him.