"Your love has the power to save me
From the darkness that I am…"
Abruptly Erik stopped singing and stood up. I could see fear in his eyes, fear and another emotion…as much as he tried to fight it, I could see the love in his eyes, well hidden as it was.
"That was beautiful," I said softly, as I noticed that while he had sung I had not felt any of the helplessness that I had felt before when I heard his voice. It was not less beautiful, no less haunting, but I did not feel the way I always had before when he sang. "What is it called?" I asked, trying not to think too much about the reasons why his voice held no power over me anymore.
"It is called Saviour," he snapped.
"You wrote it?" I asked, already knowing the answer. Even as he fought it, I could feel his emotions and I knew full well that he had written those words for me.
He glowered at me and began to leave, pushing his way past me.
"Erik!" I said, grabbing his arm to stop him. "Erik, do not leave!" I said as he turned around, glaring at me fiercely.
"What is it Christine?" he snarled.
I cringed at the fury in his voice, but then I gathered my resolve. This would not go on for another day. Regardless of what happened, this would be resolved today. Even if he sent me away. I steeled myself, clenching my fists and calling up my courage. "Erik, do not walk away from me again," I said, inwardly cursing my voice for betraying me by shaking. "Erik," I repeated softly, glancing at the ground as I weighed my options and tried to decide what to say. I looked up and looked him straight in the eye as I took a deep breath.
"Damn it, Erik, I love you!" I blurted out.
His eyes widened at my words, which only served to feed my determination and the words poured out of me, tumbling over one another as I tried to say everything I needed to say before he walked out on me again. I glared at him as he watched me calmly, listening to me rant without saying a word or moving an inch.
"Now," I said as my tirade wound down. "You can either accept the fact that I love you or not. That is your choice. But until you tell me that you do not love me, I am going to stay here and prove to you that the words I say are true." I had a point to make and I was not sure whether I was going about it the right way or not. But I followed my instinct and reached up and pulled off his mask while he stared at me, stupefied. "And you do not need to hide behind this mask. Not from me. When I say I love you, I mean I love you. All of you," I finished, tossing the mask onto the floor while I tried frantically to read the expression in his icy blue eyes. I felt the most wonderful feeling of freedom and confidence as I faced him, unflinchingly meeting his eyes, praying with everything I had that he would trust me and believe me.
The silence grew thick with tension as we faced each other determinedly. It seemed as if we were engaged in a battle of wills and I refused to back down, despite the unreadable look in his eyes, despite the aura of danger that surrounded him. I was provoking him and I knew it, but I felt that it was the only way to resolve anything.
"Oh, Christine," he whispered at last. "Christine, Christine. I love you so much, so very much…"
It took several seconds for the words to sink in. When they did and when I saw the shattered, almost lost, look on his face I grinned broadly. "Oh, Erik!" I cried and I flung myself at him.
He wrapped me in his arms, holding me close as he buried his face into my hair and I leaned against his broad chest. "I am so sorry, Erik, I am so sorry I hurt you, I am sorry I left you. I was so weak, so childish," I said, sobbing with relief that he loved me, that he believed me.
"Oh, Christine, do not apologize. It is all right now, everything is fine…" he whispered, stroking my hair gently, soothingly.
I pulled back and looked up at him, feeling a sort of pain in my chest at the love that I could see openly in his eyes. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned towards him and our lips met in a soft, slow kiss that left me trembling as I clung to him.
When we parted I gently ran my fingers across his deformed cheek, willing him to accept my love and to know that I loved him completely. "I love you Erik, I love you so much! I was so afraid, I was so afraid that you were dead. I have never been so afraid…"
He smiled slightly. "When I woke up and you were not there, I knew it was all dream and that you really had not come back. I could barely believe my eyes when you walked through the door." He paused and then looked at me apologetically. "I am sorry for how I have treated you, Christine."
I grinned wickedly, loving the newfound sense of freedom that came with Erik's love. "You were…difficult," I said and Erik laughed. It was not his normal mocking laugh, nor was it a bitter, cold laugh. It was the first time I had heard him truly laugh and it made me laugh, too.
"I never dreamed that you could love me," he said, suddenly serious once more. "I never dared to dream that you would come to me of your own free will. I am sorry for the things I did, but I only did them because I love you."
"I know, Erik. It is in the past, it does not matter. I love you and you love me, that is all that matters," I said firmly.
He smiled again and leaned down to kiss me once more. Unlike the last kiss, which was slow and infinitely sweet, this kiss was frantic, filled with the passion and electricity that had composed our relationship. His love poured over me, into me, and I shivered from the power of it. I could sense his desire and I felt my cheeks flush as my heart raced wildly.
When we parted he looked down at me, his expression slightly dazed yet happier than I had ever seen him before. He scooped me into his arms and swung me around in a circle while we both laughed.
"Oh, Erik, I love you!" I said breathlessly.
"You cannot imagine how much I enjoy hearing those words," he said huskily as he kissed me over and over again.
When we parted again I was breathless and smiling and happier than I had been for longer than I could even remember.
We spent the next days just basking in our love.
Everything shifted between us after that morning. The uncertainty fell away and left in its wake a pure and complete contentment. For the fist time, Erik talked openly about his past. Though I knew it pained him to talk of the unpleasant memories, I knew that he found comfort in talking to me.
My heart ached for him as he told me of the life he had lived. The abuse, the loneliness, the endless longing for what he never thought he could have. Through it all I just held his hand and listened, showing him nothing but love and acceptance. I held him in my arms as he cried.
We spent much time engrossed in music. Erik played the organ and we sang together. Our voices seemed to be made for each other. The way they sounded together, the way they combined, brought tears to my eyes
After a few days Erik ventured aboveground to check on the managers and the state of the Opera House. When he returned he was clearly worried.
"What is wrong?" I asked.
"The Opera House is closed," he said. "Temporarily, of course. They are without a lead soprano as Carlotta refuses to come back after what happened to Signor Piangi."
Piangi's name sent a chill through me. I looked at Erik. "Why did you kill him, Erik?" I asked quietly.
Erik sighed and turned away from me. He removed his cloak and gloves and hung them on a coat rack. With his back to me he said, "I did not kill him, not directly."
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
He turned and his eyes were burning. "I only meant to tie him up, get him out of the way. I am not certain what happened, but I believe it must have been his heart," he said. "He died, but I did not murder him, though I was the cause of his death."
Relief flooded through me. "Oh, Erik….all this time I thought you had just killed him in cold blood!"
Erik gave a disdainful sniff. "You thought me to be that much of a monster?"
"Why would I think otherwise?" I asked calmly. "You murdered Josef Buquet."
Erik gave a humourless laugh. "Again, I was the cause of his death, but I did not murder him."
"He was hung," I stated.
"Yes, I know. He tried to find my chambers and he ran across one of my traps. I found him the next day."
I stared at Erik. "All of this time….and you really are not a murderer," I said softly.
"Do not misunderstand me, Christine. I have murdered before, on many occasions. But I have not killed merely to kill for quite some time," he said, his voice growing sharp as he became more agitated. "That is the truth of who I am Christine. I do not make excuses for what I have done."
I crossed the room and faced Erik boldly. "That is in the past, Erik. Leave it there."
"And you love me, despite my past…" Erik said, his eyes troubled.
"Of course I do," I said firmly and put my arms around him.
Erik stood stiffly for several seconds before he sighed again and wrapped his arms around me, melting into my embrace.
"Now, what else did you find out aboveground?" I asked.
Erik ran his fingers lightly through my hair. "They are holding auditions and plan to reopen in a few months," he said somewhat evasively.
I wondered briefly what the managers had heard about me, what they thought. I wanted to ask Erik but I feared bringing it up, so I said nothing.
X
A few days later Erik surprised me by asking me to go to the park with him.
"The park? Truly?" I asked delightedly.
Erik smiled and donned his cape, fedora and the mask. We had reached a compromise with the mask. He did not wear it when we were together and I did not protest to his wearing it outside of his chambers. It is what made him comfortable.
It was quite late when we made our way across the lake. I smiled a little, thinking of the many times I had crossed the lake and how vastly different things were this time.
We exited the Opera House on the Rue Scribe. Erik hailed a coach and held out a gloved hand to help me step inside. It was the first time I had been aboveground since I had returned. There was snow on the ground and the sky was cloudy with the promise of more snow.
Though the driver probably thought us mad, he dropped us off outside of the park and Erik paid him well to stay there and wait for us.
We walked arm in arm through the dark and empty park. The trees were heavy with snow and the grass was covered with a blanket of white. When we arrived at the small bridge that led across the creek I could see that the pond was mostly frozen over.
We stopped on the bridge. I shivered slightly in the cold and Erik removed his cloak and draped it over my shoulders despite my protests.
"I am not cold," he said lightly. "But I cannot let you risk catching a cold."
I smiled at him and pulled the cloak tighter around me.
There was a long silence in which we both stared down at the frozen lake, each lost in our own thoughts. After several minutes Erik cleared his throat and I looked over.
He looked decidedly nervous but he turned away as soon as I glanced over.
My brow furrowed as I wondered what was wrong. Erik continued to stare across the lake, his eyes flashing with an emotion I could not read.
"What is it, Erik? Is something wrong?" I asked worriedly.
"No, no. Nothing is wrong," Erik replied.
The silence wore on for another minute when Erik took a deep breath. I looked over again. "Yes?" I asked when I saw him watching me.
"Christine…" he said.
"Yes?" I replied, confused. "What is wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong Christine….I…"
I raised my eyebrows, wondering what on earth could cause the calm and collected Erik to act this way. I could not begin to imagine.
Erik took another deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he took my hands and gently turned me so I was facing him. I gave a little laugh. "What is it, Erik?"
"Christine..." he began. "Christine….I love you."
"I love you, too Erik," I replied, mystified.
"I-I have something to ask you…" he swallowed and looked at the ground before looking back at me again.
"Yes?"
"Christine…" he said, and I could feel his hands shaking.
My heart began pounding, wondering if something was indeed truly wrong.
"Christine, I love you. I love you with all of my heart and soul. You are my saviour, you are the only thing that makes life worth living. I love you so much and I want to spend each day with you, each night, by your side."
My heart stopped as his words began to register.
"I do not have much to offer you, but I would gladly give you everything I have. I would do anything and everything in my power to make you happy," he paused then and the look in his eyes became clear. His eyes were vulnerable and filled with love. And he was also clearly terrified.
"Christine, will you marry me? Will you be my wife?" he asked and sank down onto one knee in the snow, still holding my hands. "Will you do me this honour?" he said softly.
I gasped. "Oh, Erik!" I whispered. "Oh, my God!" My mind was racing and my heart was thumping loudly in my chest as I looked down at him, at the love and adoration that was shining in his eyes.
"Oh, Erik, yes! Yes! Of course I will marry you!" I said, smiling. "Oh, I love you so much!"
Erik let out his breath and laughed loudly as tugged at him and he stood up. I threw my arms around his neck, laughing and crying at the same time. Erik held me close to him and I felt safe and comfortable in his arms.
When we parted I saw that he had been crying, the glimmering track of tears shone on his mask and his cheek. He pulled a small black velvet box out of his pocket and opened it up.
Nestled in the black velvet was the most exquisite ring I had ever seen. It was white gold, with intricate filigree. There was a large round diamond set in the centre of the ring, and the filigree was laid with tiny pave set diamonds that glittered throughout the band. "It is beautiful," I whispered, wiping tears from my cheeks.
"It does not do justice to your beauty," Erik said as he removed the ring from the box and slid it onto the ring finger of my left hand, where he had once placed his black onyx ring the night of Don Juan. When I had returned I had placed it back on his finger and nothing had ever been said of it.
I held my hand up in the dim light of the gaslamp at the end of the bridge and looked at the ring, the simple gold band and fiery diamond that signified our love and our union.
Erik was looking at me again, his expression slightly disbelieving yet deliriously happy. "It is quite late and getting colder," he said softly, brushing a hand lightly across my cheek. "We have much to talk about, my love," he said. "Shall we go back?"
I nodded and he took my arm and we walked slowly back to the waiting carriage which took us back to the Paris Opera House.
I looked fondly up at the building as the carriage drove off. It had all started here, and I would never have met Erik had I not decided to audition for the chorus all those months ago.
Once we were back below ground and across the lake we sat on a couch that sat in the corner of the main chamber.
"We cannot stay here," Erik said once we were settled.
"We cannot?" I repeated.
"No. The managers and the police are planning to raid these rooms once more. They are going to empty them out, seal up the entrances."
Tears filled my eyes as I thought of Erik's belongings, mostly destroyed already, being thrown away. I looked around the room with its candelabras, the gold piped organ. I thought of the lake and the boat and everything that had happened since the Angel of Music had first visited me in my dressing room and I felt an overwhelming sadness.
"How much time do we have?" I asked.
Erik gave an elegant shrug. "A week, perhaps more, but not much."
I nodded resolutely. "What shall we do?"
Erik took my hands and looked deep into my eyes. He had removed the mask and I was struck again by his deformity. It did not bother me, indeed I rarely gave it a thought. But I remembered the stories, the shrieks of the audience at Don Juan when they had seen his face. I thought, with shame, of my own reaction.
"I have money," he said simply. "Quite a bit, too. We will never want for money, I assure you, but…"
"But?"
"My face, Christine. We will never be free of my face."
"Oh, Erik, please…" I began.
"No, Christine. You have not lived with it as I have. We will never find peace. People will always talk, always stare, always hate. There is no escaping it."
"We will manage," I said firmly.
"I have an idea, but it will mean…"
"It will mean what?" I asked when he did not continue.
"It would mean giving up your career, your fame," he said finally.
"What is your idea?"
"We could move to the country. We could find a big house with no neighbours and we could live there. We could go wherever you wish."
"That sounds wonderful. I have had my time in the spotlight, Erik. My life with you is what is important. And besides, I had always known I would quit the stage eventually, when I had my first child," I said before I had thought about what I was saying.
Erik looked astounded and I laughed at my boldness. "Surely you want children?" I asked lightly, laughing.
"I had never given it much thought, actually," he replied. "But I think I would like that, very much," he said with a smile.
"If you agree, we can marry quickly and leave here. We can stay in a hotel if we need while we try to find a house," Erik said cautiously.
"I would like that," I said softly.
"Christine…this will not be easy for me," he said, looking down at our entwined fingers. "I have lived for decades in the darkness down here."
"I will be here for you, Erik. I will support you and help you through this. You will be fine," I said gently.
Erik smiled at me. "I would like to leave in the next few days," he said. "I will send word to my contact, Charles, to get a wedding dress," he said. "And I will also ask him to arrange the ceremony. It will not be much…"
"Erik, it will be wonderful. It is not the pomp and ceremony that is important. It is what the ceremony means that is important."
"You are amazing, Christine Daae," he said softly, leaning over. Our lips met and I melted into his embrace, excitement coursing through me. I was to be Erik's wife.
I had never been happier.