Christine dans Deux
An Alternate Multiverse - A Phantom of the Opera Story
Nyasia A. Maire
© 2006
DISCLAIMER: See Chapter One
Chapter Thirty-One – Mother's Room
Following in their wake, we find ourselves outside a door I have yet to enter. Lost in thought, I am not certain just where in the chateau we are, so I await the opening of the door with a sense of pleasant curiosity.
"This is the room I would like you to make yours while you stay here, my dear." My father says to her. "This was Erik's mother's room. I think she would be very pleased to have Erik's bride-to-be stay here."
I feel a knife thrust of panic and pain radiate from Christine. I attempt to use my mind to comfort her, but I am uncertain on how to go about this. For a moment I have a horrible picture of Christine refusing to enter the room. She amazes me with her poise and grace and acting ability as she floats into the room. Everything about her seems to show an air of pleasure and curiosity. If I had not felt the knife edge myself, I would never have had any idea she in truth did not want to enter this room. My father completely unaware of Christine's discomfort is graciously showing her about the room. Through our bond I feel the panic turn to pain and decideI must rescue her from this place. Although, I like my father believe my mother would want Christine to have her room there is something about this pleasant room, which is causing my dear heart pain. I think quickly.
"Father? I believe Christine wished to use …."
"What? Huh? Oh my dear! How thoughtless of me especially with the two of you being so gracious. Well, I believe you two young people would like some time alone, so I will leave you in the capable hands of my son. He will show you the way. When you are refreshed I would be extremely pleased if you and my son would join me for the midday meal. Erik, would that be agreeable with you?"
"Very much, father."
"That settles it. I dine at half past one. Oh, we only dress for dinner, dear." He gently presses Christine's hand to his lips and retreats from the room with a knowing smile at me that I acknowledge with a slight nod. I hear the soft click of the door behind me. I run to Christine as she slumps to the floor holding her head with both hands.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
Her eyes well and huge tears stream down her cheeks.
"My God, Christine! What is it?"
"Oh," she almost wails. "She is so sad! Was so sad! I swear her despair and pain are so strong I almost cannot bear it. She loved you so very much and it almost destroyed her when she lost you! This room throbs with her pain. I correct myself. Please help me leave this place! I cannot bear it! Please remove me from this place for I cannot see the way! Uh!" She groans.
She casts her arms out seeking me as if blind. I consider the copious tears pouring from her eyes and running down her cheeks and I think she just may be. Again, I marvel at her strength and compassion. Before I met this wonder and became whole, I never considered the feelings of others as I always assumed they had no concern for me. A thought occurs to me and I wonder what my beloved felt from me on our first meeting. It causes me a moment's pause. I had never thought to include myself among the assaults on her psyche. My poor Christine! What an assault I must have been! The rage and sorrow I was feeling when we first met was almost unbearable for me. She never gave a sign of discomfort and sought only to console me. And then, in spite of everything she felt radiating from me, she loved me anyway. I feel lost in a wave of overpowering love for this woman. My miracle of love.
She raises her blind eyes to me and blinks. An uncertain smile slides wavers on her lips and then slides away. I help her to her feet and lead her from my mother's room. I wrap my arm protectively about her and support her faltering steps. So many things I never knew. Christine's words to me are a wondrous revelation, but one I would have foregone if I could have saved my beloved from this pain. I firmly close the door behind us.
"I will explain this to my father somehow and ask you be lodged elsewhere. Here, let me help you to the commode." Trying to lighten the mood. "It is a good thing you don't wear makeup mon chére cœur."
"Yes, what a fright I must look already. Thank you, my dearest. I need just a moment. I'll pull myself together as quickly as I can."
"You could never be a fright. Believe me, I know. Take as long as you need mon chére. I have nowhere else I would rather be than here with you." I plant a gentle kiss on the top of her head. Her steps are wobbly and small sobs occasionally escape her lips.
"Christine?"
"Yes, Erik?"
"How could you love me?"
"How could I not? Do I need air to breath so I may live? Yes. You are the same. When we met I knew you were the air for me to breath for the rest of my life. And each moment since I fall ever deeper in love with you. Erik, people say things like you complete me! Or we are two halves of the same person! Or we are soul mates. Well, oddly enough, we share the a soul. I am the female and you are the male. There can be no other for me ever. I may be empathic and prescient, but I have never been given forewarning of my tragedies or triumphs by the powers that be. No, I always knew my life was wrong somehow, but try as I might I could not unravel the mystery. I convinced myself to love and even when I knew it was not right, I married anyway. And when I was unhappy, I lied to myself. I told myself I asked for too much or expected too much. That what I had was the best I could expect. And then, Trystin was born. She helped fill the void, but still something was missing. That something was someone. That someone was you. You were the missing part of my life. I missed you. I knew you not, but I have missed you my entire life. I love you and Trystin more than my life. As I said, I could sooner do without air then either one of you. No matter how many lives I live, my soul will never again forget that you are required if I wish to breath. I will seek you out lifetime after lifetime and I will love you always."
Her words bring her strength and she is able to stand on her own. She halts suddenly and turns to me.
"Do you not feel the same?" Her eyes search mine, wide and frightened. The evidence of her recent tears still fresh in them.
"Oh! My beloved, yes!" I pull her within the circle of my arms and embrace her tightly. "I never thought to love anyone much less have someone love me. And you loved me as I was. You loved me and you wanted me! You loved me for myself. When you looked at me you did not see a monster as all those before you did. I did not have to hypnotize you to lull your fear. You had none. You are my miracle. Yes! You are my miracle. I have never loved another. I had never hoped to love or be loved. Yet, unasked and unhoped for you came and gave your love to me freely. I live only to love you and Trystin. You are mine and so is she. Wife and daughter. We only lack the social trappings of marriage, but our soul is married. Yes! Christine! Yes! I feel the same as you. I love you always."
As I hold her close to me, I feel her heart beating wildly in her chest and know she must feel mine beating in the same way. I do not want her to think that I want her only for the acts of love she offers me, but I am a man and my love always seems to become physical. Holding her close to me and feeling her heart beating wildly brings me erect. I cannot help myself. I want her. I need her. My comforting embrace tightens into one of need and I grind myself into her. We both moan. Hearing her moan with me incites the fires of the furnace within me. She wants me just as I want her. I feel the invisible fingers of her mind caressing the length of me. I need her so. My eyes close and I lower my mouth to her neck. My lips taste the sweetness of her. I want to be inside her, our bodies joined in love. I am only truly alive when I am inside her. I cannot stop the torrent of desire for her that floods my body. Groans escape me that I cannot stop. Oh this woman! I will never be able to love her enough. I will never be able look at her without wanting to be inside her. As we are joined together as one soul, my body desires to be one with her. I cannot stop my lust for her any more than I can stop my love for her. I find that I have backed Christine up again the wall. My need is urgent and uncontrollable. And although we are both fully clothed and stand in an open hall, I thrust myself against. Over and over. I seek for her. And this miraculous woman responds to my thrusts with those of her own. I am lost in my need of her. My hands roam wildly over her body pulling her closer to my need and my lips afire with love devour hers. My mind tells me to stop, but my body cries for more. My hands begin lifting her skirts. God help me! I am going to take her here in the hall of my father's home. Her desire is as great as mine is.
Her body freezes mid-thrust and her breath ceases.
"Someone is coming. I feel them. Erik, please. We must go now or my reputation here will be ruined."
I stop and reluctantly release her. She is correct. If a servant sees us rutting in the hall, she will be branded forever a harlot.
"They come the way we arrived here."
She answers my question before I have time to speak it.
I take her hand in mine. "This way."
Fortunately, the commode is further down the hall, but not too much farther. I open the door and we both enter. She places both hands on the vanity and hangs her head. I hear her breathing, rapid and erratic and it fans the flames, which already burn bright. She holds up a hand and wags a finger at me. Her face is flushed bright crimson and glows with a sheen of perspiration. Any fool looking at her face and hearing her shortness of breath would realize what we had been doing. She takes a deep breath and slowly blows it out her mouth.
"Breathe in pink. Breathe out blue. Breathe in pink. Breathe out blue." She murmurs this chant so quietly I almost do not hear it.
"Mon chére cœur? Do you speak to me?"
"Old joke, sorry!" She cocks her head as if listening and then reports. "Whoever it is has been sent to find us. Is it proper for you and me to be alone in my boudoir?"
"As long as we are fully dressed, have both feet on the floor and the sun is shining."
"Come here, my dearest. Finding the two of us in here is not a good thing, right?"
"Correct."
"All right. Erik, come here."
I walk to her wondering what she has in mind. She takes another breath and slowly blows it out. I hear her clear her throat. She turns to me, takes my forearms in her hands and looks deep into my eyes.
I am falling.
And a clap of thunder.
I blink for a moment and am surprised to find that instead of being in Christine's bedroom, we are back in my mother's room. Christine groans. Her hands grip my arms in a hold like two iron vises. Her eyes roll up until all I can see are the white of her eyes.
"Oh, Christine! Let's get you out of here."
She silently nods her head. And I beat a hasty retreat from the painful place half carrying my poor Christine. In the hall, she quickly draws herself up and releases my arms. The consummate actress, she places a pleasant smile on her face and turns facing the way we came. A chamber maid rushes toward us and drops a clumsy curtsey to us.
"Monsieur, the Vicomtessa is requesting your presence. Please come, Monsieur! She be very distraught!"
"Thank you. We know the way. You may go."
"As you wish, Monsieur." This curtsey wobbles even more than the last and the poor girl begins the fall. Christine gracefully puts out her arm and steadies the girl whose face is beet red.
"Beg pardon, Mam'selle." Before another word can be spoken, she turns and disappears from sight.
Christine sways and I steady her by wrapping my arm her.
"I'll be fine. Do not worry about me. I can walk. Shall we go see why Christine is distraught?"
"Yes. Something was wrong when I left her, but she would not say what. She was very short with me." I shake my head. "I've never heard her use that tone with anyone, but then again, people can change quite a bit in ten years. I suppose."
"My darling, you are certain that you are not in love with her, true?"
"Yes."
"Are you certain that she is not in love with you?"
Her words stop me dead in my tracks. "Am I what?"
"Now, dearest, think. When did she become short with you? What were you talking about? Think."
I begin walking again and think back to our conversation.
"I was talking about Etienne and how he seemed interested in her. Then a manservant came and said you had arrived. And, uh, yes, that is when she became cold and abrupt."
"Dearest, it is possible she thinks she is in love with you. You are her knight in shining armor. The only person that has actually tried to save her from le Vicomte. She has convinced herself that the two of you were meant for one another. And my presence interferes with her fantasy, but I will know if this is true when I meet her. I just thought you should know that this is a possibility. Erik, I could be completely wrong. I just feel it's impossible for her not to be in love with you. After all, I found you irresistible, didn't I?"
I squeeze her hand. "You are different. You are the only one that ever found me that way. But, we will see. Christine, may I ask you something?"
"Of course, dearest. What it is?"
"How did we move from the commode to my mother's room?"
"Oh! Pretty cool, huh?"
She must have seen confusion on my face.
"Sorry, I will rephrase. Good magic trick?"
"Indeed. So, I take it you did that?"
"Well, the last couple of times we traveled I concentrated on feeling the energy that moved us between worlds. In my mind I created a door leading to the energy. When we needed to be elsewhere, all I did was concentrate on your mother's room a place I had been and knew. I opened the door to the energy and led us through to your mother's room. I would rather have gone someplace else, but the only other places I know here are your father's room or places which are too public."
"Have you tried this before? Or is that how you found your way to the front gate so quickly?"
"Oh no, this is the first time I tried that. I used these to get to the front gate." She bends and from a hidden pocket in her skirt she removes the claws she had taken from Su's shop. She smiles angelically at me and returns the wicked looking things to her pocket.
"Just used good old-fashioned ninja know how."
"Should I be upset about what we just did?"
"Only if you think I would risk both our lives."
"No … no, I know you would never do that, my beloved." We share a smile.
She appears to be completely recovered from the effects of my mother's room, but it never hurts to inquire.
"You look better are you or are you putting on another face?"
"I am quite recovered now, thank you, dearest. Just a little fatigued and the beginnings of a headache. Are we almost there?" A pause. "I think I feel her."
"I am most pleased to hear you are alright. We must avoid that room or find a way to clear it of my mother's sorrow."
"I have been thinking about that dearest. The only way would be to heal it."
"But it is too late for that now."
"Is it? You and I were separated by years and universes. It did not prevent us from finding one another. Perhaps I could use the door to take you to your mother?"
My voice catches in my throat and a croak escapes my lips. She smiles at me.
"We'll speak more of this another time, alright?"
"Yes, beloved. We most definitely will. Christine's room is that door there on the right."
"Would you like me to wait here in the hall?"
"No! I will not hide you from her nor mislead her about you. You are my love and she needs to realize, if you are correct in your guess, that I love you and I have always only ever been a friend to her and nothing more."
She smiles her gratitude.
"Well, be gentle. She has had to live with a loveless and abusive marriage for ten years. If I had been forced into that fate, I would have created a great love to help me through it too."
"We will be gentle. Will you tell me if your guess is correct?" I tap my forefinger to my forehead.
"Of course." She gives a small shake of her head. "You have accustomed yourself to me there very quickly." She pauses. "Of course! I had forgotten. You and Madame have spoken this way for years."
"Yes, mon chére cœur. The quiet talk. No more delaying. Come."
"Very well."
I smile as I see her hand smooth her hair and she runs her tongue along her lips. Then she does something that is one of the little unconscious things that endear her to me, she bites her lower lip. That poor lip. She has bit it so often she has a small permanent purple spot there.
"Don't bite your lip." I tease. "May I take the hand of the most beautiful and wonderful woman ever?" I say with complete sincerity.
"Monsieur, I love you and I would be pleased to allow you the gallantry of escorting me for the rest of my life."
Her words fill me such inexplicable joy that I feel will burst. I make no reply, but she must have seen something in my face that pleases her for she plants a brief, passionate kiss on my lips. She then stands at my side and offers me her hand. I take her hand and with the other I knock on the door.