Christine Daaé is a delight, sweet and humble and shy, but Rahim can see the sadness that lurks behind her eyes, and though he barely knows the girl his heart aches for her. She is, in effect, how he always imagined a daughter of his might be (well, in the moments that he permitted himself futile thoughts) – innocent, and gentle, and kind. And within hours of meeting her, of seeing her shy smile and the way she squeezes Erik's hand, Rahim knows he would do anything to protect her.
The rush of his feelings for this girl is very nearly alarming until he remembers that Erik has cared about her, in his own silent way, for months. Erik has taught her and helped her and if Erik, a man who once freely confessed to having only truly cared for one person in his life (Rahim), has come to care for her, than perhaps the depth of Rahim's own feelings are not so surprising.
Erik introduces him as "my dearest friend", and when Rahim addresses her as "Mademoiselle Daaé" she insists he call her Christine. And it begins as easily as that.
Over the ensuing weeks, Rahim comes to know her slowly. She confides in him about the way Erik gave her her voice back, and Rahim goes home to his lover and holds him in his arms all night, telling him what a wonderful man he is, and what a good heart he has. She confides in him that she often feels lonely, feels different from the other chorus girls, and Rahim invites her to the Rue de Rivoli for dinner, and Darius cooks a wonderful meal, and Erik wears the mask that lets him eat when there's company, and they pass a delightful evening. Another time, she asks Rahim how he and Erik met and he gives her vague answers. And she confides in him her dreams of being loved for her music, her worries, and fears for the future, how she has grieved for so long, how she knows her guardian, the veritable Mamma Valerius, will someday, too, be gone, and she does not want that to happen. And Rahim comforts her as best he can, and offers soothing words, and when there are tears in her eyes he hugs her. She soon becomes a regular caller to the Rue de Rivoli, and Erik always wears a mask in her presence though he usually foregoes one at home, and she never questions it, and they maintain a peaceful balance.
They have known each other for all of two months, when she says, softly, one evening at the theatre, "He looks at you as if you are the greatest thing in the world."
The words catch Rahim off guard. They are discussing Erik's newest opera, a re-interpretation of Orpheus and Eurydice in which she is playing Eurydice, to Carlotta's disgust, when she raises the remark. For a moment Rahim stumbles over his words, his heart swelling. "D-does he?" Erik is composing, deep in his lair, and Rahim can just see the way he would stiffen if he heard her.
Christine, her eyes warm and smiling, nods. "And you look at him as if you've never seen anyone more precious." She sighs, fiddles at a loose thread in her dress. "Forgive me for asking, I do not mean to be impertinent, but are you and Erik a, a coup—"
He cuts her off. "A couple?" It crosses his mind to deny it. Suppose someone were to overhear, to suspect? It would not do for someone less-than-understanding to find out. But Christine is not one of those, he knows. Christine would be discreet, would protect them, and she is looking at him with a hundred questions in her eyes, and besides, how could he ever deny his love for Erik? He would rather die!
It is easy, in the end, to admit it, and he nods, a faint smile twitching at his lips at the thought of Erik. "Yes, we are."
A slow grin spreads across her face, and she throws her arms around him, catching him off guard with her hug. "Oh, I hoped so!" She laughs, letting him go, her eyes positively dancing with happiness. "How long?"
Rahim can't keep from grinning now either with the force of her enthusiasm. "Almost five years." In a month's time it will be five years, and his heart flutters at the thought. Five years of being with Erik, of holding him, and loving him. How has he been so fortunate?
Christine sighs, breaking into his thoughts and sitting back against the wall. "I'm so happy for the two of you. I never really thought before, about two men, but there are rumours about some of the boys in the ballet corps, and the way they look at each other reminded me of you and Erik, and I thought I'd ask, just to see. Oh, it's wonderful!"
That night, as Rahim crawls into bed beside Erik, he pulls him close and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. "Christine is very happy for us." He cannot keep the smile from his lips as he remembers her reaction, and Erik frowns.
"Did you tell her?"
Rahim shakes his head. "She guessed."
A slow smile spreads across Erik's face, and Rahim's heart stirs at the sight of it. "I always knew her to be far more perceptive than she gives herself credit for."
A week later, Christine comes to them, clearly troubled. She sits in her usual chair by the fire, her fingers wrapped around a cup of cinnamon and lemon tea. The circles under her eyes show she has hardly slept, and Erik's fingers are curled tight around Rahim's, his knuckles white.
"Raoul—the Vicomte the Chagny has asked me to dinner," she says, her voice soft, eyes looking steadfastly into her tea. "I—I do not know if I should accept. Mamma says I should, but—"
"Do you want to accept?" Erik cuts right to the core of the matter, and Rahim feels an urge to berate him for not letting Christine finish, but clamps down on it.
"I—" She casts her eyes about the room, fingers curling tighter around the cup. "I don't know. I do, but I don't. I mean, I like him. He was a dear friend of mine, for a time, when we were children, but—but I don't know if I like him in that way." She bites her lip, looking as if there is more she wants to say, but is unsure how to frame it. "His family would frown on me."
"He's just asking you to dinner, not marriage." The words seem the logical thing to say, roll off Rahim's tongue at the same moment as Erik says, "His own brother is having an affair with La Sorelli!"
Rahim's neck twinges with the speed his head turns to look at Erik, and Christine is staring at him. Erik, for his own part, simply blinks and sits deeper into his armchair. "I thought everyone knew that," he says, his voice mild. "It's been going on for years." Rahim emphatically did not know about the Comte and the leader of the ballet corps, and by the look on Christine's face she didn't know either. "What I mean to say is," Erik sighs, and Rahim can hear the roll of his eyes, "if you want to have dinner with the Vicomte, you should. By all accounts he seems a sensible boy."
When, at last, Christine leaves, it is with smiles and giggles and many thanks for helping to clarify her thoughts, and it does Rahim's heart good to see her so happy. But hardly has the door closed behind her when Erik pulls his mask off, his smile dropping. "If that boy hurts her I'll kill him."
For the next three days, Rahim slips back into his old role of Daroga. Well, not truly, but he does make a study of the Vicomte de Chagny, gleans every scrap of information he can. He tells himself that he is just worried for Christine, that he wants her to be safe, and happy. Erik makes no comment, but broods over his violin, and when the night of the dinner comes, he unfolds himself suddenly from his chair and says, "I'm going out."
Rahim does not question him, knows it is futile, simply raises an eyebrow and says, "Don't kill the boy." A moment later, the front door bangs closed, and Erik is gone. It crosses his mind, a moment, to follow him, but then he sighs and shakes his head. Life is too short to try and stop Erik when he is intent on spying on someone.