Disclaimer: I do not own Erik the Phantom, and yet he owns me...Neither do I own the rest of the characters invented by Leroux, except for any that I might have created for this story.

Chapter 7: A Love Unerring

Raoul was met with a most unwelcome sight as he slowly opened the door. There she was, her hand tightly enclosed in Erik's good hand, as she knelt next to his chair. They both faced him as one. He realized that he was the intruder here, having been totally shut out. Sadness overwhelmed him, but he attempted to squelch it. He must show no weakness before this most formidable foe.

No one spoke for several long minutes. Then, it was Christine who broke the heavy silence.

"Raoul...as you can see...Erik is healing. He should soon be able to..."

"To what, Christine?" He found he could not keep the sadness out of his voice, after all. "To take you away from me? Yes, I suppose he will soon be strong enough to walk out of here, with you on his arm!"

Christine held a restraining hand on Erik's shoulder as she felt his muscles flexing in anger.

"Come now, my dear Vicomte!" he said through his teeth. "Surely you must have known that she could never belong to you! She has been mine long before you ever saw her!"

Raoul smiled, his anger beginning to rise, as well. "Is that so, you shameless murderer? Has she not told you that we were childhood friends in Sweden? I have loved her ever since I saw her, playing with the scarf that blew out into the ocean, and which I retrieved for her!"

Growing increasingly more passionate, he went on. "Her father, God rest his wonderful soul, told us stories of the North, on blustery winter nights! We were playmates, we loved each other in our childish fashion, but my heart loved her with the love of a man!"

"Raoul, please..." Christine's eyes held sadness, as well.

The Vicomte's chest heaved in anger. "What next, Christine? Will you ask for my understanding? Yes, of course...you wish me to be gone as expeditiously as possible, do you not, now that you have been reunited with your monster!"

At these words, Erik wrenched his good hand from Christine's, and, holding on to one of the chair's arms, attempted to get up. His face was contorted with a bloodthirsty rage.

"Erik!" Christine cried out, her voice full of fear. "You will hurt yourself!" Grasping his arm, she did her best to restrain him. Erik, however, was too furious to allow her to deter him. He was able to pull himself up to his full height, and stood firmly in front of the chair.

"Monsieur..." his breath hissed venomously through his teeth. "You may thank Mademoiselle Daae for the fact that you still live! Were she not present, I would not hesitate to crush your words in your throat!"

Christine was totally appalled, although she herself had witnessed Erik's powerful anger on more than one occasion. However, she was shocked at the depth of his hatred for Raoul. It was even more daunting to hear him give full vent to this hatred in her presence. Raoul, noticing her reaction at once, was quick to take advantage of it.

"Well, my dear Phantom...it seems your beloved can now see for herself exactly what sort of a monster you really are...This doesn't bode well for your future relationship with her, I daresay!" He smiled quite smugly as he finished speaking.

Erik felt as if his rival had struck a mortal blow to his gut, knocking the wind out of him. Slowly, he turned to Christine, and saw for himself the anguish and fear on her face. She was also very close to tears. Defeated, he gingerly sank back into the chair, seeking her eyes. When she avoided them, he groaned from the depths of his soul, leaning his head on the back of the chair and closing his eyes wearily. The specter of Death immediately rose to taunt him. It would indeed be a most welcome one, if Christine were to leave him once more. He knew he would not be able to survive this time...

Christine painfully looked up at him, her eyes now brimming with tears. She grasped his hand, which hung limply by his side, and kissed it, then caressed it with her now tear-stained cheek. When he did not react, she began to sob, calling out his name softly, and laid her head on his chest. "Erik..." she whispered between sobs. "Remember...you saved his life just the other day...Please...no more talk of killing..." She broke into loud sobbing as she clung to him.

"Christine," Raoul said softly, as he looked down upon them. "I find that I am unable to let you go...I must have you as my wife. You will lack for nothing, my love! Most of all, you will have a devoted husband, without a shadowy past that would haunt our lives forever! I can overlook this as the result of the hypnotic effect this man has always had on you. But surely you must realize that you cannot possibly live with such a man! What if his rage should one day turn on you? I know you do feel something for me...Oh, say that you do, and make me the happiest man in the world!"

Erik heard each of these impassioned words, which might have been spoken by him, and sighed deeply. Each one was a deadly knife, ripping at his heart. His spirit was vanquished. Surely she would respond to the Vicomte's desperate plea. Surely she would now come to realize that she could never be happy with a man who would not hesitate to kill, coldly and efficiently, when sufficiently provoked. His other-worldly experience with her had been nothing but a dream, and had never really happened, he told himself. He braced himself for her rejection, his muscles loosening in utter defeat. Then, to his great and joyous surprise, he felt her stir, and move up to the level of his face, which she took in her hands, pressing a kiss upon his lips. Thereupon she stood, to face Raoul.

"My choice has been made, Raoul. It has not been an easy one, as I do feel love toward you. It is the deep love one would feel for a very dear friend. I shall always treasure the memories of our childhood. But you must know that the love I feel for Erik is of an entirely different order...It knows no bounds, and fills my heart and soul with an ecstasy I have no words for...I love him, such as he is. I do not condone his actions, but you have not taken into account all he has suffered, the cruelty he has undergone for most of his life. His conscience has been twisted to an alarming degree. Yet, I see the goodness shining in him. I believe in that goodness, Raoul. And even if I did not, my heart cannot feel otherwise. Love is completely irrational. It needs no reasons for its existence, but is merely itself...I would like to remain your friend, but I am aware that this may not be possible, given the circumstances. I hope you will be able to forgive me one day, for leading you to believe that we could have a future together. You should understand that this was motivated by my fear...a fear I must endeavor to overcome. I do not think that Erik could ever really bring himself to hurt me. Please do forgive me, Raoul. You will in time find another woman who can return your great love, for you are truly deserving of it!"

Erik slowly opened his eyes to gaze upon the scene. She was speaking firmly to the Vicomte, who stood before her, almost impassively, stoically enduring what must have been very painful moments. She was breaking off her engagement to the handsome young aristocrat! She was choosing him, a horribly disfigured murderer!

Christine now brought her left hand up, and with her right hand, gently removed the ring Raoul had previously given her. She then picked up his left hand, which he unresistingly yielded to her, opened its palm, and deposited the ring upon it, thereafter closing his fingers over it.

'You are free, Raoul..." she whispered, tears in her voice. "I release you from our engagement. Please go, and may the blessing of the Almighty be upon you..."

Raoul looked upon her stricken face, his own full of the greatest pain he had ever felt. Their eyes met, and he read hers quite easily, for the emotion reflected in them spoke more eloquently than any words might have done. He lowered the hand that held the ring in it, and with the other, picked up her left hand, now no longer wearing the token of his love. He kissed it very respectfully, and then straightened, to look once more into her eyes.

"I must accept your choice, Christine, although it pains me so..." His voice broke. "I wish you both the greatest happiness in your life together. Unfortunately, I cannot be your friend. It would cause me fresh anguish to remain within the confines of friendship in your presence, as I will always wish to be so much more to you...Be happy, and be well, with God's help."

He could say no more, as he feared losing his composure entirely. Turning, he blindly groped for the doorknob. Finding it, he turned it, and swiftly exited the room.

With a cry, Christine knelt once more by Erik's chair, laying her head in his lap, and wrapping her arms around him. He, with loudly pounding heart and tears streaming down his face, brought his good hand to her hair, caressing it softly, tenderly, possessively.

"Christine..." he whispered, his soul having been set free at last to love completely, and to have that love returned. "Christine...my love, my angel, my darling...I love you, I love you, I love you..."

She brought her head up, and moved her body so that it was placed between his legs, her face level with his own. The ensuing kiss was consuming, burning into their hearts with its passion. Her arms locked around his neck, and he brought both arms up to embrace her, even though his wounded arm pained him. Thus they remained for a long time, as the rays of the morning sun slanted into their room, and the day effortlessly lifted its wings into the brilliant sky.