Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. This chapter does have a few direct quotes from the novel by Leroux.
Author's Note: This was a fun chapter to write. I hope you enjoy it. Please review!
Journal,
If this sounds strange, that is because it is: I think I might be married. Yes, I said 'I think', for I do not know for sure.
"Christine? Are you ready? We wouldn't want to be late."
Erik could not repress the soft gasp that escaped when he saw Christine. She was wearing a beautiful ivory gown--Erik recognized it as one of the first that he had chosen for her during one of the giddy highs that came only after her voice lessons. Occasionally--even before it had occurred to him to kidnap the girl--he would give in to such moments of whimsy, purchasing clothing and trinkets for the room in his house that his subconscious had classified as 'hers'.
Now, she stood before him, looking a vision in an outfit that he had provided for her. At that moment, he thought it was not possible for him to feel any happier. Oh, my dear Christine!
Christine grew nervous by his silence, afraid she had unknowingly done or forgotten to do something important. She cleared her throat discreetly, successfully drawing Erik from his daydream.
"I-is… is it okay? Do I… do I look alright?" she stammered
"At this moment, my dear," he whispered breathlessly, extending a gloved hand to her, "words cannot do justice to your loveliness. You are truly exquisite"
She exhaled in relief and gratefully took his hand. From a closet he retrieved her black domino, draping the hooded robe lightly across her bare shoulders and placing the mask in his coat pocket for later. They walked in companionable silence until they reached the entrance behind Christine's dressing-room mirror. As it seemed clear that this is where Erik intended to part ways, Christine decided to speak up.
"Are you not coming, Erik?" she asked, thinking that a masquerade in his own opera house would be reasonably within his narrow comfort level.
He chuckled lightly at her concern as he lovingly tied the black domino mask around her face. "I might stop by at some point, my dear, but I have a few matters to attend to first."
Then his tone changed. He was more serious... nervous almost. "I… I did… have something… to talk to you about…"
"Oh?" she asked cautiously.
"I want you to know… I… I know about the boy… de Chagny. I know that he intends to see you tonight."
It was dark enough that Christine could see his glowing eyes, but she worried at the unreadable expression they betrayed. Oh no! Raoul! What does he know? How does he know? Is he angry? No, he would not be letting me go if he was angry… Has he done something to Raoul? Her mind raced but she did not allow that to show in her face or in her voice.
"He does." she stated softly, feeling odd at the realization that she was confessing to Raoul's intention to meet with her… it was like she was confessing just enough of the truth to keep him believing her deception.
Apparently, it worked.
He sighed, continuing, in halted breaths, words that he seemed to have trouble forming. "He loves you, Christine…"
Christine made to speak but he gestured with his palms for her to wait until he was finished. What he was trying to say was difficult for him and he would not be interrupted.
"…How could anyone not? He… he is going abroad soon and… you shall not see him again. I want you to know that… that I'm not angry if you wish to see him tonight… to say goodbye."
That was not what Christine had expected. Perhaps the man had some capacity for compassion after all. She was not quite sure what to say or whether an answer was even required.
He gave me his ring.
Luckily, the awkward silence was brief. He took one of her hands in his and looked at it intently, caressing the pale skin with his gloved thumbs. Then he slipped a plain gold ring on her fourth finger.
"I give you back your liberty, Christine, on the condition that this ring is always on your finger. As long as you keep it, you will be protected against all danger and Erik will remain your friend…" he looked deep into her eyes and she smiled. But he continued dangerously, "But woe to you if you ever part with it, for Erik will have his revenge!"
Christine's eyes grew wide and she snatched her hand away from his. She was not sure whether to be afraid or angry.
Then, his tone softened again and he grew timid like a child.
"I trust you, Christine. I will part from you now… but… but you will come back to me tonight, yes?" he pleaded.
Christine was at a loss. It was not a request… not really. For about three seconds, when she saw that he was not coming to the ball, she toyed with the idea of making her escape tonight, but she dashed the thought almost as quickly as it came. She knew he would come find her if she did not return, he had told her so earlier that day.
Actually, most of today had been filled with subtle threats regarding tonight's event. She would never be able to keep up with his moods. One minute he was dominant and threatening… the next, gentle and fearful.
However, one thing was perfectly clear to Christine. He wanted her to come back, he expected her to come back… he had made that evident in his threats. But, in the soft pleading she found in his eyes, she knew it went deeper than that. He wanted her to want to return. Letting her go right now was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. And, yet, out of love he forced himself to trust her. He was begging for some assurance that he would not have to come find her.
The thought made her heart ache for him. Everything thus far in her scheme had been calculated and planned. Now, however, she did something completely on impulse.
And I gave him mine.
Releasing the long chain around her neck, she removed her father's wedding band from its place beside her mother's crucifix.
Erik stood frozen in shock, watching in rapture as she gently removed one of his gloves and placed the gold band on his icy finger.
"This is a promise, Erik…" she said earnestly, looking into his eyes and still holding his hands, "consider this a promise that I will come back to you."
With that, she disappeared through the mirror, leaving them both alone to ponder the gravity of what had just happened between them.
Why did I do that? I wonder why I do any of the things I do. I guess I just wanted to show him what it is like to give a gift without accompanying it with a threat.
Feeling suddenly exhausted, I took a second to steady myself and hurried off to the ball, hoping to find Raoul and get this all over an done with. I was not in a rush to get back to Erik by any means; it's just that I was not looking forward to seeing Raoul in the aftermath of what had just occurred and I was eager to get it over with so I could go be sick by myself.
Vicomte Raoul de Chagny paced restlessly and fiddled with his costume. He had been up all last night, after his encounter with that mysterious phantom with cat's eyes. The household staff must have thought him mad and, indeed, he was beginning to wonder if that was not the correct assumption.
He thought about what his brother had said to him. Perhaps it was time to end this obsession.
All night his protective nature had warred with his pride.
Was she really such an innocent girl? Was she really a victim, and to what extent?
Whose prisoner is she? Had that man indeed carried her off? And, by what means?
Or, perhaps, has she been playing him? He was new to love, he knew it and so did she. Was the opera singer merely trying to make a fool of the nobleman? At one point, she had spoken to him about life being a game. She confessed to him that she would manipulate people on purpose. Is that what she was doing here? Was she playing a game with his heart? To think! He wanted to marry her… to give his name to a singer!
He cursed her and pitied her alternately in rapid succession.
However, at some point during this turmoil, he had put on a white domino and showed up at the ball.
By the time he arrived near the end of the event, the party had become far more wild than he was accustomed to. A masked ball at an opera house is considerably more… bohemian… than the masquerades given by members of his own social class. Already he found himself dodging the mad whirl of dancers, brushing off the bold familiarity of those who had partied a little to hard, and ignoring the masses of masked, drunken, would-be philosophers who would try to engage him in a war of wits.
On top of that, he felt like a complete buffoon white, puffy domino with a mask trimmed with long lace. On the plus side, he mused, nobody would ever recognize me like this!
Five minutes before midnight, he contemplated leaving one last time. He wasn't sure he could handle it if Christine did not show up or, worse, if she did show up only to mock him. His jealousy and self-doubts came back full force and he was on the verge of walking out and putting that blasted woman behind him once and for all.
On the other hand, he was already here, already dressed like an imbecile, already braced for rejection. Why not just take a few more steps to the top of the staircase? What else did he have to lose?
Apparently, his body was not listening to his inner conflict because, by the time he had made his decision, he was already upstairs, leaning against a doorpost, waiting for his love to find him.
However, it would not be so easy. I waited most of the night for Raoul. I was about to give up, thinking he was not coming, when I saw him at the top of the grand staircase.
Suddenly, a woman in a black domino passed by him, squeezing his fingers to get his attention. He turned to speak to her, but she put her finger to her lips to silence him and motioned for him to follow her. At the sight of his beautiful Christine, all resentment and suspicion in his heart melted. He no longer had any doubt of her innocence and good intentions. She came! She loves me! She wants to see me!
At some point during the evening, Erik made an appearance. I will give him this: the man knows how to make an entrance!
As the progressed up the stairs, Raoul was distracted by a crowd gathering around an individual, dressed in scarlet, with the words 'Don't touch me! I am the Red Death stalking abroad!' written in gold letters across his immense red-velvet cloak.
I had the intention of keeping the two apart for… well… indefinitely, if possible. However, that has proved more difficult than it would seem.
Christine paled as she recognized the Red Death slowly following them up the stairs. Raoul saw her expression and felt his jealousy return tenfold.
"That's him, isn't it?" he hissed
"Be quiet. Follow me!" she demanded, practically dragging him further up the stairs and shoving him inside one of the Opera's private boxes.
"I'll kill him! I shall take of his mask and see this angel that you love so well!" he swore passionately, trying to push past Christine and open up the door. With surprising strength, she shoved him away and blocked the exit with her small frame.
"In the name of our love, Raoul, do not pass!"
She put her ear to the door and listened for him. Only once she was convinced that he had passed by the closed door did she turn around and face Raoul, who had shed his white domino and stood panting and confused. Did she just say she loved me?
No, she was just trying to give her lover time to escape! I hate her! Foolish woman!
"Do not lie to me, woman! You're heart is not capable of love! I can't believe that I let you lead me on… that I let you convince me that you could care for me… that I thought you honest and sincere while you make love to the Red Death behind my back! I despise you… you faithless, heartless woman!"
The rest of his attack was incoherent, he had burst into tears and was nothing more than a sobbing heap on the floor. Christine felt her heart constrict as she let him hurl insults upon her character. Forget me Raoul, please! It is the only way I can protect you. I'll endure you're hatred… I'll endure anything if it keeps you safe…
He looked up to see that she had removed her mask. He was shocked to see the haggard look on her pretty face. She was pale and had dark rings under her eyes. She was not crying now, but she had the look of someone going through hell inside. Oh, my beauty, what has happened to you? Christine…
He held his arms out, beckoning her to come to him. She shook her head sadly and replaced her mask.
"Goodbye, Raoul. I am so sorry. I will not see you again."
She turned from him and left, never once looking back.
It takes a tremendous amount of energy to say goodbye to someone you love. I have had the misfortune of doing it several times. I wonder if that was how Erik was feeling today when he was so jittery and irritable.
Determined not to give up, Raoul followed her in secret.
He watched in despair as she sank dejectedly into a chair and throw the black mask carelessly aside. She sighed and buried her head in her hands. What has become of you, my happy little Lotte?
She sat like this for a bit and then took her little journal from a drawer and began to write.
Erik! The ring! Oh, for a brief moment I had forgotten…
"Poor Erik" she sighed and Raoul gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. I am jealous! I am jealous! I am jealous!
I realize now that I took this game too far when I did that. I wanted him to trust me, I knew I would be playing with his heart--but this was too much. I know now that I have made a grave error. What came over me? Why would it occur to me to do something like that?
What can I do to make this right? Can I still be saved from this nightmare?
I will continue these thoughts later. He has returned.
Christine
