Erik sighed, as he kissed Christine's temple, sliding his arms down to embrace her. Holding her in that room…the one that contained so many of his thoughts of her through the years poured out in colored oils on canvas…was both difficult and liberating.
To all others that gazed upon the paintings, they were merely an anonymous girl, in fictitious places. But for he and Christine, they were fragments of a past that they both knew well. He'd captured poignant moments of her life, suspending them in art, freezing the essence of the very events that shaped her. Moments of sorrow, of pride, of love, of whimsy, all woven into the intricate fabric of her days spent on this earth. They were private expressions of love from Erik to Christine…his way of saying… "I know you…I've been here with you….I've watched over you….I understand…" but most importantly, "I love you." Though in truth, he'd never thought she would ever lay eyes upon them. And though they were viewed by many, they would never have betrayed the artist. For none other than Christine would know…that it meant that he had watched over her, had loved her, had cared for the feelings of her heart…all those years.
"This my dear," he said pointing up at the painting where she were a young girl, wreath in hand, snow surrounding her on the ground, "I shall never forget the day. Antoinette had been tending to other ballet mistresses that had come to pay a visit to the Opera Populaire at the start of the holidays…"
Christine turned in his arms looking at him. "I shan't believe I've heard you use Madame Giry's first name before Erik!" She looked up at him quizzically. "Is that…..is that how you address one another in private?"
Erik laughed kissing Christine's ear. "Madame Giry and I have been friends a great long while. To say that we always used proper titles would be untrue. She was rather like a sister to me, and as such, yes, I often addressed her by Antoinette."
Christine smiled at him, kissing his jaw. Of course they had been friends, and as such they would have been on most familiar terms. She blushed, immediately embarrassed at her own folly. "Forgive me my dear for interrupting your descriptions. Though I knew of her name, I'd never once heard it uttered."
Erik smiled at Christine. "Do not worry," he said, running his hand along her back. "Not many have ever been given permission to do so. Even when she was a young woman working in the ranks of the Opera House, she never had want to have anyone call her by name. She preferred miss, or mademoiselle. "
Christine blushed slightly. She'd always known Madame Giry to be rather prim and proper. She'd never given thought that it had gone on so very long! "Do tell me Erik, this day," she pointed up at the picture of the little girl holding the wreath, "where had you been that you'd found opportunity to observe me?"
Erik turned Christine once more in his arms so that they could both gaze upon the painting. "Do you remember the night before…when you'd talked about how you missed your father, and how you were so duly saddened that he'd not have garland nor wreath for Christmas, and how he'd so loved those adornments during advent?"
Christine simply nodded, saying nothing more than, "hmmm, yes."
"That night you cried yourself to sleep as I sang to you 'Silent Night' do you remember it?"
Christine nodded, she remembered it well. "Your voice was reassuring, so tender yet powerful. I felt as if I were in the very presence of God that night Erik."
Erik closed his eyes, placing a delicate kiss on her temple. That night, so many years ago, oh how he'd wished he could reach out and touch her, hold her…for it had truly broken his heart to watch her cry as she did. No mother nor father to cling to for comfort. "How I longed to bring you comfort my love, to bring you peace."
He began rubbing his thumb along her collarbone, his other arm resting around her waist. "That night you struggled with dream after dream, tossing and turning this way and that in your sleep. I watched, just as I always had from the rafters above, humming to you when you woke, reassuring you I was still there for you."
Christine wrapped both her hands around the forearm that he'd extended across her, leaning down to kiss his flesh. "You were so very kind to such a selfish, piteous, little girl that I was."
Erik's eyebrows raised as he looked down at her in such wonder. "Selfish? You my dear were the farthest from selfish of any living soul I'd ever known. Selfish…you knew nothing of being selfish. You were a wonderful young lady, proper and thoughtful. You were the first to offer help to others, the last to leave practice each day, always aiding Madame Giry by collecting prop and costume. No, no, selfish you were not my love. If our daughter is as wonderful as you were my dear, I will be an exceedingly proud father!"
Christine smiled, leaning her head back against Erik's chest, looking up into his eyes. "Our daughter…what a lovely set of words. It is the very longings of my heart that I should bare you a daughter my love. A son as strikingly handsome as his father, a daughter as devoted and talented, or a pair of each one day."
It was all music to Erik's ears. It thrilled him beyond comprehension to think of embracing a wife, a child…. He wrapped his arms tightly about Christine. "Yes one day my dear, but let us first focus on these children. There will be time for more, as many as you like my dear. Once we've resettled into Courtland Manor, and you've given birth, I shall provide for you all of the assistance to have as many children as you like."
Christine, for a brief moment, recalled her day-dream, a pair of governesses chasing their children about…..Meg preparing to marry Raoul, DeChagny and Nadir sipping brandy…Erik reading to their children. "Erik?"
"Yes my love?" He replied, still musing in his mind over thoughts of their children, of having a family to love, to cherish.
"When do you think we might see Meg and Madame Giry?" She said, a bit of nervousness in her question. She'd known he'd made some sort of arrangement or another, she simply did not know how it would be done, or where in fact they were at this moment. To this point nothing of recent events had been spoken of.
"Christine, when first you told me of your want to see Meg, in truth, I did not know if it could be managed. It remains to be seen if it can, but try we shall. I've sent Erphan on with a note to send by messenger to Raoul's house. That is where Madame Giry, Meg, and Nadir have been staying while in Paris. If they are able, and I think that Nadir should have no trouble in making the arrangement, then we shall all meet in the lower levels of the Opera House…in what was once my home."
Christine's eyes grew wide. "But Erik, what of the danger…the dream…what if…" Christine's lips began to tremble, there was so very much she did not know.
"My dearest Christine, I've much to tell you. Crawlings shall not be of any threat to us, nor anyone else, do not worry." He closed his eyes…he'd have to tell her the truth.
"Erik," she paused, "do tell me my dear."
"Crawlings is dead." Erik's heart hang heavily in his chest, she and Nadir would be the only souls who would ever know the truth. He turned her around in his arms, he would tell her face-to-face.
"Dear, dear, Christine, this is most difficult. But you must know the truth, know what has happened, for it will be the last you will hear of the truth of it, for circumstances must allow another version of the story to become the truth in order that all might be protected." Erik had sincere hope that someone would even now be claiming responsibility for the victory.
"I'd learned that Crawlings had gone to DeChagny's house, and so I set upon going there. I feared he'd pursue Meg. In my travel, I met Nadir. However briefly, we had an encounter. It was only then that I found that Crawlings had attempted to claim Raoul's life, and was heading away from there, Nadir assumed back to Paris. He was wild and unwieldy, and Nadir could not estimate if he'd had an unsatisfied blood thirst in his mind."
Christine's eyes grew wide. Erik had met Nadir, but what of Meg and Madame Giry?
"I turned and followed the boy into Paris, with a promise to Nadir that he shan't have any worry, that I would see to it." Erik paused, he would leave out the details that were of little consequence. "It came to pass that he attempted a return to Raoul's, I on his heels. When I arrived Christine, Crawlings was lurking in the shadow. I'd every intention of taking care of the boy, but had hoped to flush him out and dispose of him in the woods, far from the sight of any others."
Christine shuddered. She'd never heard Erik speak of ending a life with such little regard. She would say nothing.
"Christine, I do not know what will be said of the events that took place, I know only that none, save Nadir perhaps, will ever truly know of what happened there."
This was the most difficult bit of the truth, one he'd barely had time to come to grips with himself. "Whilst I waited, trying best to estimate what move he would take, Raoul came out onto the veranda."
Christine stiffened. "Raoul?"
It tugged at his heart to hear that name cross her lips. "Yes Raoul. It was then that I watched Crawlings, and I could see his intentions quite clearly, he'd raised his weapon, he…" Erik could scarcely bring himself to say it.
Christine sensed his hesitation, "Erik, do not tell me that he…" she paused, "Meg will be heartbroken." Her eyes began to fill. Somewhere inside she'd made the split-second association of Raoul and Meg. She shook her head, she'd finally come to terms with it, and now for it to have been ended…the thought was unbearable.
Erik's heart was nearly undone. Christine had not taken the sorrow of Raoul's loss to her own heart for her sake, but for Meg's. Perhaps she had truly released all thought of a life with that boy from her mind. "No my dear, Raoul is not dead, but the Crawlings boy was felled."
Christine looked up into Erik's eyes. "Raoul…he?" She knew well of Raoul's tender feelings regarding life…she could only imagine how even now he would be suffering for it. Her thoughts quickly returned to Erik. "Did anyone see you, was there anyone else out in the yard?"
Erik closed his eyes, the pain of realization in what he'd tell her next resonating in his mind. He'd actually utter what had happened, making it real forever more. "No Christine, Raoul had not even seen the boy, let alone drawn his weapon. And no…there were no others in the yard." He paused, the words struggling to take shape in his mouth.
"Erik……you….you shot Crawlings?" Her mind swirling for that was the only plausible answer. Her heart began to race at the possibility, for surely she knew it would have been something that the Phantom would have wanted…..Raoul dead, though it seemed to serve little purpose now. Erik….the man….her husband…..had defended him!
Erik felt a sob rise in his chest, but he fought it. He began nodding his head. "Yes Christine, yes I did." His eyes searching hers for some answer, some redemption, for something, anything that would provide him with relief from the strange grief that he felt.
Christine slid her hands around his waist, placing her head in the center of his chest, drawing him to her. "Erik….that must have been difficult for you…..it was no secret to me how you felt about him, and after the cemetery…the encounter beneath the Opera House…."
Erik felt rigid as he laid his head to rest on the top of Christine's. "I do not yet know that I fully understand what happened Christine, but I do know that the boy's death will need some explanation, I am trusting that someone, somehow will lay claim to it, though how, or whom, I could not say." He sighed, "I know only that it is safe now. Safe for Madame Giry, Nadir, and Meg to travel to the Opera House, for a meeting this very night. We shall travel there once the sun sets in the sky. We will not return to the winter house as we had planned this night, but stay here with this woman for yet another night. I am certain that she shan't mind the company. That will also give Erphan and the other young man a chance to be of some good use to this woman. It has been a number of months since I've paid her a visit, and I've no doubt she's a project or two she's needing help with, and can put the young men to good use for an evening." He'd taken note that there was a large pile of uncut wood in the room just off the kitchen, perhaps they could start with that.
Christine was nodding, Erik's words brought her both comfort and question as she tried to wrap her mind around the knowledge that Erik had felled the boy, thus saving Raoul's life; and that very evening she would once again be able to see and embrace, Meg and Madame Giry. "I should say she shall be able to make good use of them. Oh Erik, how very grateful I am to you for providing a way for me to see them. Oh how I've missed them so! I simply am elated at the opportunity to share with Meg of our joy my love!" She ran her arms around his waist once more, resting her head on his chest. She shivered, and even she could not say if it were from the lack of being cloaked only in a blanket, or out of excitement of anticipating the impending visit.
Erik looked down at her. "Perhaps we could continue this discussion of the paintings after we are both properly dressed." Erik said, reaching down taking Christine by the hand. "Come, I've something to show you."
Christine smiled at him, "yes, but do not forget the stories you were going to tell me, I shan't have want to miss one word of your explanations of them."
Erik smiled at her as he led her from the room. "How could I forget them my dear, they were part of my life as well as yours. Come let us dress, warm ourselves. I've much to tell you Christine, so very much. After we've dressed, I should like to tell you all that you do not know of these past days, and answer each question you have my love. I've need to tell you, just as I am certain you've need to know."
Christine gave Erik a tender smile. She was grateful for so very many things. Now that he'd told her that he would explain…answer questions…she could breathe a bit more freely. Truly the tension was leaving her with every step that they took.
Erik looked back smiling at her over his shoulder. "I do recall you'd had a particular fancy with the ruby red fabric of one of the frequent guests of the Opera House. I pray that you still have an affinity for it my dear, for there is something rather special waiting for you." He walked her down passed the room they'd been in, down to the woman's workshop. Erik pushed the curtain aside, leading Christine inside.
Her eyes grew wide. There hung a simple yet exceedingly elegant dress, with layer upon layer of the ruby-red fabric she'd seen on the woman's table not hours before. "Erik!" She exclaimed, "it is beautiful."
"Yes, but nearly as beautiful as you my dear." He kissed her hand as he raised it to his lips. "The woman will have it finished for you by the time we leave on the morrow. Now come, I've one more surprise for you." He led her back to the room where they had rested. As they entered he took her to the divan, sitting her down gently. He walked over to the chair, unfolding the item that the woman had deposited there before she'd left with Erphan. He carried it over to Christine, unfolding it as he came near her. "Do stand my dear."
Christine stood, taking in the beauty of the jade dress that Erik had unfolded. It had long dainty sleeves, a fitted bodice, and a full flowing skirt from beneath the bust.
He smiled at her as he reached down sliding his hand beneath her chin, tilting it up to place a delicate kiss on her lips. He laid the dress down on the divan, Christine beholding it with her eyes. It too was simple, yet its luxurious fabric and embellishments made it elegant.
Erik returned with her white slip in hand. He leaned down placing a kiss on her shoulder, pulling the blanket from around her mid section, dropping it to the floor. He quickly glided the silken undergarment over her head. She shivered. He turned and lifted the dress, slipping it over her head, reaching down to lift her abundant curls from beneath it before his hands traveled to her back to draw in the ties that were there.
Christine marveled at how wonderful the fabric felt on her skin, and how perfectly the dress fit her upper frame. She smiled, the dress had been made to fit her now, and no doubt the full skirt would allow for her growing mid section.
"Erik?" Christine said.
He smiled as he finished tying the top of the bow. "Yes Christine, I had to tell her. I had want for you to have something a bit more suitable, more comfortable. Does it please you?"
Christine smoothed her hands over the fabric. "It is exquisite Erik, simply exquisite. Thank you my love." She smiled at him, leaning in to place a peck on his cheek.
Erik's eyes beheld his wife, in a proper dress for her circumstances. A wide smile crossing his face, she was never more beautiful than she was in that dress, in that place. To see her in a dress that suited her for the life that grew within her, his life merged with hers….there was something so wholly amazing about it.
"You my dear, are the most beautiful woman with child that I have ever had privilege to lay eyes on." He walked over placing a delicate kiss on her lips.
She embraced him for but a moment before she pulled away. "Now my dear, let's see to your garments." She glanced here and there.
"My dear, you rest." He led her to the divan. "I shall see to it, and to a pot of tea….and then to that which I must share with you." He looked at her with most serious eyes. "Of what happened in Chausser, of the blood you found on me that night I'd returned, of what happened afterwards, of Nicole, of Sara, of all that you've wish to know." Then he departed.
Christine sat looking at the doorway he'd just passed through. For a second her heart began to ache. Though she knew he'd be back in but a few seconds, she missed him already. He was ready…ready to tell her whatever he needed to.