Christine sat on one of the edges of the pond, reading in the sun. It was a different place for her and she was happy with the slight change of setting. She was rather enjoying her book as well when she felt the presence she knew to be Erik's. Immediately she smiled up at him, enjoying his constant initial surprise of her having sensed his approach.
'Hello Erik,' she said cheerily. It had been nearly a week since she had cried in his arms and they had since resumed their previous state of friendship, much to her relief. She knew she had been rather forward that day and did not particularly wish to deal with it.
'Hello Christine.' He replied. Though soft, his voice betrayed something of tiredness. She instantly sensed it and cocked her head at him as he came to sit beside her.
'Is something wrong?' She asked, holding her hand in her place in the book.
'Hmm? No. No, nothing's wrong.' He told her unconvincingly.
'You're a terrible liar.' She announced flatly.
He looked at her, and though it was hidden, she knew he had raised a doubtful eyebrow at her. 'Oh, really?'
'Yes. I would have thought you'd be much better at it, but you're not.' She shook her head in mock disappointment.
'Perhaps I just wasn't trying.' He defended for no real reason.
'All right,' she said, closing her book and folding her hands in her lap on top of it. 'Prove it.' She dared.
He studied her for a moment, his eyes sharp with the challenge, but the longer he looked at her, the softer they became. 'I won't lie to you, Christine.' He promised almost woefully.
'Ooh, that was a good one.' She laughed. 'I take it back.' She told him. He looked like a kicked puppy, so she rolled her eyes. 'You do need to work on taking a joke, though.' She smiled at his silliness. He relaxed a little, but still looked terribly tired. She was about to question this when they heard pompous laughter coming from the covered breezeway across from them. Erik instantly tensed at the sound, getting a fierceness in his eyes that concerned Christine. She brushed her hand next to his, drawing him back to her a bit.
'Oh look, the corpse has found the dying girl.' Came the unmistakeable tone of the Grand Vizier. 'What a wonderfully morbid pairing you two make.' He said a little too boldly for his own health.
Christine felt Erik preparing to launch and do God knows what to the arrogant man, so she quickly covered.
'Hello, Grand Vizier. Yes, we do have a rather exclusive little group here, don't we? I'm sure we could arrange for you to join us if you wished.' She offered, making Erik find himself grinning wickedly at the idea.
The man paled slightly, but only took the challenge. 'How long do you have?'
'Two months, give or take.' Christine answered back easily.
The Vizier got a grin that made Erik's skin crawl. 'Well, if there's anything you wish to do before then that a certain skeleton cannot provide, I'd be more than happy to oblige.' He laughed darkly.
This nearly sent Erik flying at the man, but Christine held his arm rather firmly, hiding her clutch cleverly. She tipped her head to the man cordially.
'Thank you, but I think that one service I shall not be needing.' She told him evenly.
Growing tired of her immovability, the Grand Vizier waved her off and left, his posse of mindless followers close at his heels.
Erik looked at Christine in wonderment. 'How did you…?'
'They were just words, Erik.' She said, sighing.
'Words have power.' He told her sagely.
'Only if you let them.' She shot back just as wisely. 'Now, why did he have it out for you?' She asked, growing darkly curious.
'I've been going over his head a bit in court. The Shah has been favouring my opinions over his, though being his bother-in-law, he still has to listen.' Erik explained cautiously. He knew her feelings on the subject of his immersion in court and how it often consumed men of weaker stuff.
'Hmm,' she hummed thoughtfully. 'I wouldn't let him be a concern. He's got power and connections, but he's faint of heart. I don't think he could bear to have someone killed, and he's not smart enough to overthrow you if you are as close to the Shah as you claim. No, I'd let him be. He's all talk. It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for.' She told him with complete seriousness.
To say Erik was stunned would be an understatement. Shocked would not even do it justice. In fact, he was just a few moments short of his jaw dropping.
'Did-did you just give me advise?' He asked at length.
Christine rolled her eyes playfully. 'Just because I don't get involved doesn't mean I don't understand.' She said, shaking her head as she rose. She waited for him to stand before taking to the edge of the pond, walking along it easily.
'Why don't you? Get involved, I mean.' He looked up at her as she feigned unsteadiness for a moment.
'Because, it's more fun to watch. Humans are funny creatures when they think they have something to gain or lose. But mostly they're just entertaining to watch because they don't know what they're doing.'
'Do you?'
'Oh, no! No one does. It's all a matter of how good they are at pretending.' She said, opening her arms for a very regal Croisé devant. 'The numbers will astound.' She continued with dry charm as she effortlessly lifted into a developpe. 'Take me for example, I have two months left to live yet I act as if it does not bother me, and you are completely convinced.' She explained, continuing her ballet on the narrow edge of the pond without wavering even slightly.
Erik looked at her hard. He wanted to tell her that he did notice, but he honestly had to admit that he found himself forgetting until she or someone else mentioned it.
'How?' He asked, wondering what her secret technique was.
Now it was her turn to look at him hard. 'I thought you were a magician.' She laughed. 'The trick is to act as if it were completely reasonable. If you look at something as if it were impossible, then no one would believe it, but if you have complete faith in its existence, then people will follow anywhere you lead them.'
She took up a fourth position facing him. 'I'm going to fly.' She told him certainly.
'You can't fly.' He argued, feeling childish.
'Why not? I've been told I look like a bird and I think I'm light enough.' She held her head up imperiously before suddenly springing into an elegant jump. She landed gracefully on the edge and looked at him with laughing eyes. 'There now, for a second there you thought I could fly, didn't you?' She cocked her head knowingly.
'Why aren't you the magician?' He laughed.
'Because, I never follow through on my tricks and I reveal all of my secrets.' She said, putting on a playful pout.
'Why do you always do ballet when you talk so seriously?' He finally asked after she did a small arabesque.
'Why do you think?' She retorted.
Erik thought a moment. 'So that your words don't seem quite so serious.' He deduced rather taken aback. He looked at her clever grin with mild wonder.
'And,' she corrected. 'Because it's fun.' She smiled broadly at this before hopping down to stand beside him. She looked up into his eyes happily until her smile started to fade. 'Besides, it keeps you distracted.' She let a bit of her darkness in as he finally registered what she had said earlier.
'Christine, you don't need to be scared.' He assured her, aching to hold her arms, or just hold her.
'I never said I was scared. I just said it bothers me. I don't want to say goodbye just yet.' She told him honestly.
Erik felt something within him stir. He found himself a step closer to her. She was oh so tempting for him to just pull into an embrace. 'Christine, I promise, I will be with you until the end.' He swore. Deep down he felt another promise fill him. A promise he would never tell her of. The promise to not let her die. The promise to save her.
Their moment was interrupted, however, by the appearance of one of the Khanum's messengers. Before she even knew what had just happened, Erik had been –grudgingly- whisked from her side, leaving her to stand alone by the pond and wonder where things were going between them, and where she wanted them to go.
This moment, too, was not meant to last either as someone came to bring her to the Khanum only a few minutes after Erik had left. Something about this summons did not sit quite well with her. It felt oddly wrong, though she was not sure why.
Christine walked into a different room than she was used to meeting the Khanum in and immediately felt her earlier tension skyrocket. She was directed to stand next to the woman as she sat with a diaphanous veil surrounding her. Christine was about to ask what the special occasion was, but was interrupted by the sounds of tortured yelling. Looking ahead she noticed that they were in something of a balcony box looking down at a room with walls lined with mirrors. She felt a strange heat wafting up from the room and saw that there were four desperate men clawing at the walls as they deliriously scrabbled at the slick glass trying to escape. None of them seemed aware of the others and fixated on the cruelly reflective boundaries set before them.
'Khanum, what is this?' Christine boldly asked, not caring if she got on the sick woman's nerves.
'My newest toy from Erik. He built this for me.' She looked up at Christine with a grin that spoke of the true evils that festered in her twisted soul. She was enjoying the unending tortures of others without shame or concern.
'What did these men do to deserve such punishment?' Christine asked, feeling a bit disgusted for having to watch such suffering, and worse yet knowing it went on without second thought.
'Oh, probably killed someone or stole something. It matters little, my silly bird. Just watch, the show is about to begin.' The woman brushed off agitatedly.
Christine was about to ask what, when she noticed a hidden door suddenly open. Her breath caught when she saw the unmistakeable figure of Erik as he stepped out, down to his shirt and trousers, much as he had been that day she found him with all of the cuts. Instantly she began to fear for him, knowing he had sustained injury from this unknown but most likely horrible act. She had to hold herself back as the men in the room started to notice Erik's presence.
The men, who had seemed only desperate to escape turned on Erik with something resembling animalistic hatred. What brought this on, Christine assumed, was the mix of fear of being trapped and his now exposed face.
What scared her, however, was the wicked grin he wore. His face did little to frighten her, but his expression of nearly insane joy sent shivers down her spine. How could this be the same Erik who had been hurt because he could not understand her joke? How could this be the man who had held her only days before as she wept into him when he told her he would not leave her? How could this be her Erik?
Noting the slightly sandy floor of the room, Christine felt her heart lurch when she observed there were weapons strewn about. She looked to Erik and saw his hands were completely empty. She felt her throat prepare a cry as the first man rushed forward, waving his newly retrieved sword wildly. Erik merely sidestepped him, a thin rope suddenly appearing in his hands as he deftly flicked it round the man's neck and gave a sharp tug. A sickening snap echoed through the room and through Christine's ears as the man fell limply to the floor. She knew he was dead before he even touched down, crumpling about Erik's feet as if he were nothing more than a discarded sack.
One after another after another came forward, and all fell uselessly to Erik's skilled hand. When he finished, breathing only mildly heavily at the exertion, he wound the rope around in his hand and let it disappear back up his sleeve. He looked up at the applause, only vaguely seeing into the box. All he wanted to do right now was go up to his rooms and try to contain the destruction that would inevitably follow what he felt of the fogging effects of the hashish. He did not fight it, or care to until he heard one word come from the wickedly appraising tones of the Khanum.
'You see how talented my magician is, Christine?'
Christine.
Erik's eyes growing wide with fear, searched the shadowed box to see his angel, her hands over her mouth and disgusted fear written on every inch of her beautiful face. He would have given anything in this world to never have to see that expression on her again. Much like the day she had first seen his face, which he now absently realised was bare to her, he stood frozen, paralyzed by his own fear and uncertainty.
'Christine,' he said, just above a whisper. He knew she heard it, though, because she shook her head, eyes glistening, as she fled through the door she had come in at. She flew from the room, hurrying down the halls she knew with hateful familiarity. She ran, wiping vainly at the tears which would not stop. When at last she made it to the Gulistan, she collapsed in the moonlight on the edge of the pond.
Still in the room of mirrors, Erik stared up in horror at the fear he had inspired in his sweet little Christine.
'There, now,' the Khanum sighed. 'I knew she wouldn't have the stomach to truly appreciate your skills, Erik. She was meant to leave you eventually. She just doesn't understand you like I do.'
Erik glared up at the woman he had long hated and now firmly wanted dead for her actions against Christine.
'You did this.' He growled.
'Come, come. I did nothing. I merely showed her what you are, what you can do. You should have known she would not accept you. Have I not said that your value is an acquired taste?' She persisted, growing more firm by the second.
'I must go.' Erik turned to leave, feeling the hashish begin to alter his perceptions. He had to find Christine and try to explain, to show her…he knew not what yet, but he would try.
'Leave the dying girl, Erik. She is of no use to you and soon she will be of no use to anyone. You need someone who can give you what you want. Give you power, strength, desire.' She venomously purred the last word, though he was not listening, already heading out of the room. He vaguely heard her shout at him, but the words meant nothing. Christine. He had to get to Christine.
Erik felt like his legs were made of lead as he stumbled and staggered his way to the Rose Gardens. He prayed that this would be where she was. He was mildly surprised to notice it was night time. He had not noted the late hour of the day earlier, but now that the moon was shining with its purest silver glow in the blanket of velvet blue sky, he felt an odd sort of calm come over him. He could feel the shadows reach out their dark hands to take him into their concealing embrace. A part of him had always adored the way the black wings of the night had wrapped round him protectively. He felt safe in that darkness. He lived for night, where he could walk without fear.
He stopped short as he saw the huddled form of Christine, practically glowing in her white top and long, flowing skirt. She looked breath-taking in the moonlight, her skin shone pale against the darkness while her curls cascaded down her pure back and over her shoulders. She shook slightly as she sobbed and brought Erik back to the present.
'Christine,' he spoke with his softest voice. He had not initially wanted to use this tone because of its oddly controlling powers. He could influence even the most stubborn of men with but a word from this lulling tone.
This did little in his favour, however, as she whipped round to look at him, pulling away. Her eyes were wide with fear once again, and Erik looked down in shame. He had scared her.
'Christine, please, I need you to understand,' he tried, taking a small step forward, coming out of the shadows only just a bit.
She flew to her feet instantly. 'Don't come near me.' She cursed him. 'I thought I knew you! I thought I could trust you!' She yelled at him through hurt tears.
Erik felt like he had been run through with a sword. 'Christine,' his voice turned more pleading and despaired.
'No! You aren't who I thought you were. I knew you had a dark side, but I never thought you could…You killed those men, Erik. You did it as if it were nothing.' She wept, creeping ever further away from him.
Erik looked down again, only this time it was less out of shame, more out of pain. Her usually beautiful voice was starting to ring painfully in his ears. All sound, in fact, was beginning to hurt. He always hated this part of the hashish. The drug heightened every sense until it actually caused pain. Clutching at his head with her every word and sob, his already heightened hearing started to sting.
'Stop,' he begged, turning away from her a bit in hopes it would abate the pain.
'What? No. You need to know what you did in there, Erik! I cannot accept it!' She wept, looking vaguely worried for his sudden change in behaviour.
'Stop. Talking.' He growled at her, losing his grip on his patience and control. He felt the thought that he should leave drift through his head before being incinerated by the heat of his growing hate of everything.
'Erik, what's wrong?' She asked, jumping a bit by his harshness. She took a tentative step towards him though every ounce of her being urged her to run. She hated him right now, but she still could not bring herself to leave him if he was hurt.
'I said STOP!' He snapped more than just verbally. Lunging forward, he overcame her in two of his long strides and held her thin throat in his hand. 'Stop! Just stop!' He yelled down at her, no longer seeing her.
'Erik,' she only barely managed to choke out, scrabbling at his fingers at her neck. She was quickly losing sight along with her breath.
He felt himself shouting at her, saying God knew what, as he continued to choke her. He leaned her back, over the pond as her fingers started to slow and her arms grow heavy.
Christine felt the world start to fade around her, all growing black. She saw Erik's face, twisted and warped with fury, become fuzzy and vague as she tried to put two thoughts together to get him to stop. She was not afraid of death, but she was afraid of what would happen to Erik if he stayed in this place. Perhaps he truly wanted to kill her, she did not really care; she just did not want him to have to stay in the poison of Persia.
Erik knew that just a little twist would bring that snap to end her. She would be silent then, but something held him back. He could not stop, but he somehow could not bear to end it so quickly. Her grey-green eyes, turning almost ashen in the reduced light, started to flutter closed.
Suddenly, Erik's vision was filled with a flurry of black and white feathers and an odd sort of honking. He let go of Christine as he tried to defend again the strange attack that was baffling him with its constant and blinding motion.
Nadir had heard some of what had happened from one of the guards and now found himself running through the halls of the palace in the hopes that he would be able to find Christine or Erik before one of them did something stupid. He had not expected anything of what he saw when he finally came to the Rose Garden. Christine was on the ground, coughing profusely while holding her neck tenderly, while Erik confusedly battled a black swan. It would have been comical if Nadir did not know that Erik was still filled with the terrible drug that probably brought whatever pain Christine was currently trying to recover from.
Hurrying to her side, Nadir took her shoulders firmly and lifted her to look at him. Already, angry purple bruises were forming on her usually flawless porcelain skin. He held her to him protectively as the swan had backed Erik off enough to calm down a bit. The great ebony bird kept a distrustful eye on the man, but came over to Christine to make sure she was all right. It occurred to Nadir that this was the swan who made brazen overtures to her on a regular basis. The bird had gallantly defended her against Erik's threat.
'What the Hell is wrong with you?!' Nadir found himself shouting at Erik as the man caught his breath. 'How could you come here when you were like this?! You nearly killed her!'
Erik had felt like he were outside of his body, watching it act on its own with dull indifference, but now he crashed back into the moment at Nadir's words. Blinking, Erik saw clearly as Christine continued to cough, blood splattering her delicate and shaking fingers as she fought to regain breath. From her protective shield of Nadir's arms, she looked at Erik with unbridled fear. He saw the bruises that his cruel fingers had stained her flawless flesh with.
Nadir watched his already pale face lose all colour as he was brought back to reality and forced to see what he had done, and realise what could easily have been. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but nothing came. It was just as well. There was nothing he could say that would make this all right in Nadir's eyes. He felt Christine move in his arms to look up at Erik, she was still gasping a bit, but her look of pure betrayal and unbearable hurt shattered him. Nadir watched every hope, dream, or unknown wish within Erik suddenly crumble away to nothingness. It was over.
Erik stumbled back into the suddenly cold embrace of his beloved shadows. He had never felt so alone. Nadir looked at him with disgusted hatred, but Christine…oh, Christine. She looked at him with such fear and hurt he thought he would just fall through the earth straight to Hell; where he belonged. He deserved nothing less than unending torture, and her sad and betrayed eyes held it all.
Erik left them. There was nothing he could do to fix this. It was all over because of his own foolishness. He had cursed himself.
A/N: *Hides from assured projectiles* It was time she learned a bit about him. Now they're even…kind of. Thank you as always for you kind support for this story, I love every review and am grateful to each follower. You all give me the courage to keep writing and the incomparable joy to be sharing something I have put so much of myself into. See you next chapter!