The Crystal Rainbow
An Alternate Universe – Phantom of the Opera Story
Nyasia A. Maire
© 2007
DISCLAIMER: I do not hold the rights nor did I create any characters found in The Phantom of the Opera or Phantom, nor have I received monetary compensation for writing this story.
Awakening from our dreams
brings us another step closer to them.
A Fool's Book of Wisdom
Chapter Nine – Awakenings
As their bodies calmed, the desire began to rise once more and the two sets of lips locked together again. Two sets of arms began to draw the body they held, closer. Two sets of hands began their urgent exploration of the unknown.
And, then a voice intruded into their passion.
"Erik! Christine! Wake up!"
They held each other tighter, but the voice became more and more insistent.
"Wake up! What is wrong? Christine! Erik! Really! Wake up! Do I need to fetch a pail of cold water and throw it on the two of you? What on earth is going on here?"
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Christine hurriedly sat up from the unladylike slouch in which she found herself when she awoke. Her hands immediately moved to smooth her skirts and then patted at her hair in a vain attempt to bring order to her unruly locks.
Erik, too, sat up quickly. His hands flew up to his face, his shoulders rigid. His entire body relaxed as soon as his fingers touched the stiff surface of his mask. He adjusted its position and sighed. Suddenly, his head tilted down and he hissed. Helen and Christine turned questioning eyes towards him, only to see a twirl of black envelop his form within the folds of his cloak. He seemed to glare at the women, silently daring them to question him. Helen, used to his strange ways, shrugged her shoulders and turned back to Christine. The young woman stared at him for a moment, but he would not meet her eyes. With a slight frown, Christine drew upon the acting skills her father had taught her and cleared from her face all of the signs of hurt Erik's action caused her. Although, inside she seethed over his apparent rejection of her and her cheeks flooded with color.
"Wonderful! He is going to act stupid again! He is a grown man and still acts as a foolish boy! After the way he touched me, how can he act so cold towards me? Does he not remember?"
She paused and licked her lips.
"Perhaps, he remembers, but believes our visits are no more than dreams."
She shook her head almost imperceptibly.
"If that is the case, he is the most intelligent fool I shall ever meet. Mon Dieu!"
As she often did at times when she was upset, Christine unconsciously began to hum. She turned her eyes to stare unseeingly out the window at the passing countryside and without realizing it, her mouth opened and the words of the song slipped past her lips. At first, the sound of her voice was no more than an almost imperceptible impression of song, but quickly grew into a quiet vocalization of joy as the young woman allowed the music to sweep through her being. She reveled in the sweet emotions she felt while in the embrace of the music, but in her secret heart she wished it were the young man's strong arms holding her.
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Erik continued to shift uncomfortably in his seat.
"It is bad enough to fall asleep and have an erotic dream about Christine, but then, when I awake, to find the evidence standing visible for all to see that is quite … embarrassing … humiliating … disgusting …. It is no wonder that she sits there, frowning at me. She must think that I am a depraved beast. Thankfully, she has no idea what caused my arousal. I am certain that if she knew she was the reason for my tumescence, she would not only refuse to continue traveling with Helen and me, but my face would have received a rather resounding slap."
He continued his surreptitious adjustment of his aroused manhood. All the while attempting to keep Christine in his line of sight.
"The last thing I need is for her to think that I am committing some sort of perversion while I look at her. Why does she keep staring at me? I would almost swear that the last glimpse I caught of her, it seemed I saw her eyes leveled at my member. And, now her cheeks are so red that they almost glow. Could it be that she does not find me disgusting?"
He took a deep breath, releasing the tension from his body as he exhaled. With a well-seasoned control taught to him by Helen, Erik cleared all thought from his mind. He replayed every moment he spent in Christine's presence, from his first glimpse of her shadowed form exiting her quarters to the sight of her currently scarlet cheeks and impassive eyes. He searched through the memories, freezing a look, an expression, a touch, but nowhere could he find one that provided him with evidence of her fear or loathing. Indeed, the closer Erik examined his brief acquaintance with Christine, the more confused he became.
"She shows absolutely no signs of fear or loathing towards me. And, not only does she not attempt to avoid my touch, she has gone out of her way to initiate physical contact with me. There is something else … I feel as if there is something else that I need to remember."
The nagging thought tickled at the corner of the man's awareness, but it remained just beyond his grasp. Just as he began to despair, a sound touched his soul and brought him out of his introspective state.
"Mon Dieu! She is singing and it is the same song she sang in my dream. Could it be that the dream is not mine, but ours? After living with Helen all of these years, I have seen stranger things. Oh! If this sharing of dreams could only be true, my heart would soar to the heavens with joy! How can I know? How shall I ascertain the truth of this thought? Dare I ask her? Oh, Seigneur! I cannot!"
As he remembered the fervent kisses and the burning, passionate caresses they shared, his face grew hot. His body grew hard and he trembled. He felt shame at the almost overpowering lust his body felt as he remembered the soft curves of her body and the jutting points of her nipples. Then a thought struck him and left him breathlessly reeling in shock.
"She is the one that kissed me. What does that mean? Does it mean anything or nothing at all? It must mean something. I do not believe that Christine would grant her favors on someone that meant nothing to her. She is not a wanton strumpet. Perhaps, she only allowed herself to kiss me because she thought herself safe in a dream. After all, dreams are not real. Well, not most of the time, anyway."
He almost chuckled.
"I must speak in private with Helen about this. She needs to know that I may share a bond with her niece. Hmmm … when was the first time I dreamed of Christine?"
His body gave an involuntary jerk as the possibility of their first meeting being a coincidence vanished and his mind began its awakening to all of the possibilities this memory implied.
"The first time I met Christine in a dream was the first night I spent sleeping under Helen's roof. It either means everything or it means nothing, but I must know. Damnez-le! I really do need to speak privately with Helen. Hmmm …."
A myriad of possibilities ran through the man's mind, each one quickly discarded. He tilted his head back to loosen the muscles in his neck and bit back the sigh, which threatened to escape his pursed lips.
"Simple is best, Erik. Anything complex raises questions. Questions might lead to suspicions and that could be disastrous. So, what to do … what to do …."
And, then the man smirked.
"Of course!"
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Helen sat between Erik and Christine and for the first time in her long life, felt at a loss for words. Her head pounded, but not because of the burgundy she imbibed. The reason for the tormenting pain, which she thought would split open her skull at any moment, were the young couple on either side of her. She had fallen asleep shortly after hearing both of her companions inform her of their intentions to nap. Her sleep had been deep and dreamless, until suddenly she felt as if someone had forcibly taken hold of her and thrust her into a round room. The room felt old with its walls made of rough-hewn stone blocks. The room had no windows, but had several beautiful tapestries adorning the walls. The centerpiece of the otherwise barren room was a large Persian rug. The swirling patterns of the carpet held her eyes and distracted her from noticing that she was not alone in the room, until a man's groan and a woman's sigh drew her attention. Helen gasped as she watched Erik and Christine lying on the rug with their mouths locked in a passionate kiss as their hands ran in feverish exploration over each other's body. The pair took no notice of the old woman, their minds lost in the madness of their newfound desires. Their bodies burned with an internal fire of desperate need. As they lie upon the floor, they writhed, thrust and stroked one another in a frantic attempt to discover the means to quench the flames threatening to consume their souls.
Helen placed a hand to her chest and the crease in her brow deepened further as the pain tore into her body. Her knees buckled and her chin fell to rest upon her chest as she began to construct the spell, which would delay the now certain death that awaited her. She murmured words of the ancient tongue and then fell silent. With a look of steely determination in her eyes, the old woman lifted her head upwards and raised her arms above her head. Her words thundered forth from closed lips, as she reverted to her native French.
"I swear upon the honor of my lineage. Upon the nobility of my mother's line and her mother's and hers and on and on back into the dark recesses of time that I invoke this rite only for the sake of she-who-follows. For myself, I ask nothing. I ask for more time because she is not ready. Please grant me more time, so that I may teach her all that she needs to know."
And then, just as suddenly as the pain began, it was no more. Helen breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly.
"Merci, mon Dieu. I shall make the most of the time left to me. Merci, Seigneur!"
The old woman glanced at Erik and Christine and shook her head.
"This needs to stop right now. Well, it needs to stop at least until I can speak to each of them separately. There is more here than one night's acquaintance, of that I am certain."
Wrenching herself out of the dream, Helen hopped to her feet. She turned, cleared her throat and loudly proclaimed.
"Erik! Christine! Wake up!"
The sexual tension that Helen sensed between the two continued unabated, so she tried again and placed greater force into her voice.
"Wake up! What is wrong? Christine! Erik! Really! Wake up! Do I need to fetch a pail of cold water and throw it on the two of you? What on earth is going on here?"
◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊
Helen allowed herself a minute sigh of relief as she felt her lips curl into a small smile. The emotions she sensed from the two on either side of her were so typical of their widely divergent personalities that she could not help feeling somewhat amused. Her amusement, however, lay thickly entwined with her sense of irony. Erik felt self-loathing and Christine felt anger.
"She lashes out and he whips himself."
A voice speaking quietly into her left ear caused her to start before she realized the source. She arched her eyebrow and narrowed her eyes as she turned to look at Erik. The young man had one foot upon the floor and the other resting upon the seat. He leaned his elbow on his thigh and rested his chin on his hand. He wore a smirk that bordered on the edge of being a grin.
"Madame, might I have a word with you?"
Helen bit her lip and gave Christine a sidelong glance, but the girl seemed lost in her own thoughts, completely unaware of her companions. The old woman returned her attention to Erik. She responded to Erik's inquiry by throwing her voice in the same manner that he had.
"Oui, Erik. I agree. We need to talk. More importantly, I must know what is happening between you and my niece. The emotions between the two of you were so strong that it dragged me into your dream. Really, Erik! You should be ashamed of yourself! How could you be so bold? You only met Christine last night, yet today you kiss her with such passion that had I not interfered, you would have made love to her. What is happening between the two of you? I do not ask this out of idle curiosity. Surely, you must understand my concerns. You must be forthcoming in your response, Erik. Please! The future of my line's heritage rests upon that young woman's shoulders. You must tell me, Erik. You must tell me everything!"
Author's Note: I'm still chugging along, really I am! My goal is to post another chapter by Wednesday night, but we'll see. Please feed the kitty – read and review! --ny