Chapter 14
Love is a raging storm
The boat pitched and tossed roughly as a storm raged on the choppy waters, it was a dreadful night to wake to that was for certain. The pitching and tossing of the boat was dreadful and though she was a heavy, heavy sleeper it woke her. She was tossed out of the bed and face-planted on the wooden floor painfully. She hit the floor with a resounding smack and Christine groaned and stumbled to her feet, still mostly wrapped in her sleep and oddly exhausted all the time now. She wanted nothing more than to fall back to sleep and fought to keep her heavy eyes open.
She had no idea why she felt so sick lately, why her back ached and her stomach felt like it was flipping. Her stomach churned as she got up, a dizzy spell taking her over her and she rubbed her temple. Her head was pounding and the room was spinning and she teetered on her feet. Erik was nowhere to be found or maybe it was the darkness of the cabin, but she sighed when she heard the whistle of the kettle and knew Erik was making his evening coffee and blinked when another shadow came in the room.
Christine turned her head and muttered sleepily to herself as she was woken fully to the sound of Erik muttering as he spilled his coffee on his lap. She went to the circular window and squeaked with fright as a bolt of white lightning hit the sky and plummeted to the black waters. She looked at Erik, shaking his head and muttering at the stain on his usually immaculate white shirt. Christine shook her head and wet a white cloth, thinking that if she helped her husband she would distract herself.
Another thunderclap echoed and this time a bolt of lightning cruelly illuminating the room and landing on the gruesomeness that was the deformity. Normally it didn't bother her; after all she had sex with the man more than once. Spent countless hours singing with him and had even married the man so his face was not an issue. But the enormity of it hit her and she threw up, all over herself careful to clutch her belly so it looked like her stomach was upset so she didn't hurt him, she knew how sensitive he was about her reactions to him.
Erik looked up and saw how pale she was, her hand was shaking as she mopped at the brown stain only making it worse. He grabbed at her hand stopping her before he looked at her face and raised his other hand to stroke her cheek. He gave her a paternal smile and wrapped his arms around her pulling her into his lap where she laid her head over his heart, listening to the thump-thump of his heart; Erik ran his fingers through her hair rocking her back and forth gently. She had not feeling well lately and thunderstorms didn't help.
Christine snuggled him wanting the safety of her husband's arms at that moment. It seemed strange that such a dangerous man who had mercilessly killed so many could make her feel so comfortable in his arms. She leaned over the place in his chest where his heartbeat thudded steadily beneath her cheek. The sound was calming, a quiet thud-boom that steadied her fears and unsettled mind and for a moment she forgot all about her troubles and relaxed but not enough to make her fall asleep. He ran circles over her back and said nothing until she was breathing gently.
He was so gentle; it was odd that he had been so cruel once to kill innocent men in cold blood. She hadn't thought of it much since the wedding, no since before that since their first night together. Christine shook her head as she realized she had been so damn caught up in the thrill of being in love with him that she had not thought of what being committed to the man might mean for her future. She had been enraptured with the thrill of commanding the sexual needs of such a powerful man that she hadn't realized that he was a wanted murderer and how she could never see her mama or Meg or Madame again.
Poor mama Valerious had not gotten to attend the wedding of the only child she had ever raised or had. She remembered the day her father had married the sweet blind woman when she had been four. Christine had wept over dear mother who was lost to her, when Grandfather had lifted her into his strong arms and sang to her. Professor Valerious was an old man of sixty-two
It made her weep and so Erik removed one arm from around her as he reached under him and pulled out a thick leather bound book. It had some symbols on it that she recognized as letters but could not believe he could read at a time like this. But that was Erik, a strange man, brilliant in a way any philosopher would only dream of and stranger than any man she had ever seen. She felt sick again and made the mistake of looking at her husband when he spoke to her.
"Come Christine." He said, "It's time you began learning English." His voice was belaying arguments.
"All right," she said wearily.
He took out the book, "Repeat after me." He said, "Say hello my name is Christine Mansart pleasure to meet you."
"Bonjour mon nom est Christine Mansart plaisir de vous rencontre…"
"Well yes," Erik said slowly, "but now in English my dear."
Christine's brow furrowed and she sighed thinking hard, finally she said, "Hi."
"Good enough…" he said, giving her an encouraging smile.
The boat tossed and she threw up on him again but this time the worst thing that could possibly happen did. She had looked at him and thrown up and now the pain was in his eyes, then he released her. Christine opened her mouth to apologize but didn't have the opportunity as he raised a hand and knocked her backwards in a gesture showing not abuse but self-hatred. She backed away and the room went as silent as the eye of a raging storm.
Erik's harsh breathing was the only sound to be heard as his icy hand's gripped her and yanked her forwards. She had a sinking feeling in her heart as they moved on and on into his madness, she did not struggle that only made it worse. Her eyes stole a glance over her shoulder at the fading light of a lightning flash, wicked and white as a sword. The sound of the crew shouting to tie down the anchors was growing fainter by the moment and the mists of the windows surrounding the cabin shrouding them were thick. It swallowed him hole as he pulled them forward to that never-ending darkness that she feared so much and threw her onto the darkest corner of the bed. But then as the dim glow of his candles came into view she knew what was to come was far worse.
She saw none of the architectural beauty of whence she had first explored this room in the thrall of wedded bliss. Rather she saw it for what it really was, her husband's rage and the fear he still struck inside her fragile heart. The young girl saw this path laid nakedly before her, a stairway down to his madness where music swirled in a twisted waltz of agony. It was a torture no amount of love could heal and she had unwillingly aggravated the situation.
He would never leave the dungeons of his black despair, it did not matter how far away from Paris they went. Erik would always be trapped in the prison of his mind as long as he lived. True love or no, this man was one doomed to be abandoned by the world and only time would tell if her love would be enough to keep him happy. The only problem was he freaked over the tiniest things like her vomiting and now they were back where they had begun that fateful night.
Thus was the torment of her husband Her eyes searched for a way out but she saw none so she let him pull her head up to gaze at his repulsive face. She had no idea what would become of her when she was alone with him in that dark. Her head began to spin as the dark spiraled around her and as Erik tugged her forward relentlessly in his anger, she felt light-headed as though she were falling into a never-ending tunnel.
They said nothing as he forced her further down till she stood facing his gruesome features with a look of pure apology. It had no effect on him this time, his silver eyes were as hard as pebbles and she knew in that moment the full impact of what she had done. No pleas for mercy would help her this time and no amount of appealing to his love would ease the consequences. His grip tightened on her wrist crushingly and she winced pulling away. He turned to her and then as threw her to her knees before him he fell also his hands gripping his face in intelligible agony.
"Why!" he grated.
Christine jumped out of her skin when he spoke, the tone of his voice unfamiliar to her. It held none of his suaveness or that genteel tenor she had become used too. It was raw and full of despair as, a horrible grating sound that hurt her ears. He stood before her, trembling and then with a wretched cry he dropped to his knees. Christine winced a little as her tutor dissolved into a man more pitiful than anything she had ever seen. Was this what real love was? Thus was a broken heart at it worse, the look in his silver eyes was one of absolute agony
She sighed and crawled toward him, extending her hand to touch his shaking shoulder and once again he caught her hand. He rose to his feet, a full 6'2 and forced himself to look into her tearful eyes without expression. He hated those tears but tonight he felt she deserved them, but then she reached up and placed her cool fingers on his neglected face and ran the caress down his cheek. Christine touched him longer than he wanted, her pale fingers fitting into the holes of his skin and sticking to their pads as she tried to pry them free.
She winced as he cried out when his paper thin skin tore when she moved her hand. His poor skin came away and like the fabric of a pauper's curtain. It was apparently incredibly painful and he let out a scream worse than a man who was being dragged off to the firing squad. Christine winced with apology knowing that even though it hurt him she had to unstick her hand from his head and the best way to do this was to make it quick
Erik groaned and stared the smeared blood on her fingers, almost like a sinewy black panther attempting to heal a wound with a pitiful, penetrating look. Christine winced as she looked into his eyes and turned away shaking, could this be the same man who had not too long struck fear into her heart simply by uttering the word 'no'? It was shocking to think so. This raging raving lunatic was not her husband, this was not her Erik. This was the Phantom, that rampaging madman ready to wreak his unholy revenge on those who got in the way of his ultimate goal.
This was not the man she had wept over in the cavern and the very thought of losing him was enough to drive her to suicide. The man that had waited for her even when she was to marry someone else, the man willing to wait for her till he died if he must but it wasn't anyone else for him. Not even if he died alone. No this was the man who had threatened to make her his by force if he must, a dangerous man who had no name and was wanted in Paris for slaughtering three victims and that was just the ones he had been suspected of. The ones the Police knew about.
Her Husband was a criminal and no matter how hard he tried to repress him the Phantom would never leave. The man she feared would never ever leave her, her black knight was a necromancer both beautiful and terrifying at once. His anger was lethal but his love was eternal and it was that love, she realized that kept her going. It was the man beneath this anger that pulled her back to him that night when she had left her safe and secure life behind.
Christine felt this overpowering urge to back away from him but he grabbed her by the hair and slammed his mouth over hers. In that instant he was her Erik again, the man that had awakened her passion and given her everything she ever dreamed of. Christine could feel him tearing and she placed her hands on his shoulders. It was instant, the fire between them blazing. She rose with him knowing she should push him away but being powerless to do so. Her heart and body would not listen to her mind and so she did the only thing she could. Christine responded to her husband, her arms wrapping around his neck.
He reached up and shrouded her fingertips in his black glove taking the smears of crimson into the shadows of his clothes. Christine met his eyes again but this time there was no anger only torture. Tortured love as though he were ready to tear out his heart and offer the broken pieces to her if only she would try to put it back. Christine knew that look on him too well, it was the look she had seen the night she had broken his heart.
It was that same look of weary resignation he had in his cavern when he had let her go with Raoul. That defeated, nothing matters anymore look that had broken her heart. He pulled away and went to the stool where his mask was and lifted it. She watched as he stared grimly at it, eyes slits as he peered down at its perfect surface. Erik ran his graceful hand over it and placed it back on his face before he met her eyes. His like raindrops arched in the shape of tears as he gazed with sadness at the beauty who had sworn to love and comfort him.
"Do you hate me?" he asked at last.
"No my love of course not…" she said.
Erik cried and felt a sudden urge to kiss her and so he did just that. He kissed her with everything in his heart, and when he grabbed onto her that was it. She groaned, into his mouth and allowed him to push her against the wall and kiss her so hard that she rocked backward. The flame between them flared and she leaned into his touch, wrapping her legs around his waist just before she pulled out of his arms and paled in a sickly way.
He released her but stared at her all the same till she got up and ran to the chamber pot where she became violently sick. Erik's brow furrowed and then it dawned on him that it wasn't his appearance making his beloved ill but the pitching and tossing of this blasted vessel. Erik went to her and held back her hair while she emptied herself out and then lifted her into a cradle position. Christine knew she should order him to put her down after such a disastrous altercation but all she really wanted was to be held. Erik leaned down and kissed her lips, uncaring of the sick taste in her mouth and she pushed gently on his chest.
"What are you doing," she moaned, thinking the man had truly lost his mind.
"The best cure for seasickness is a distraction and the best distraction is to make love." He said and dipped her head back to kiss her.
Christine knew she should deny him that she was sick and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into her bed and sleep. But she was just so weak when it came to her husband that he could kill her and she would still derive some sick pleasure from it. He kissed her deeply and she wound herself around his waist and settled just over his power where he took her to the bed. They deepened the kiss and relaxed into the sheets. He placed one hand on her breast and then slowly lowered his mouth to her nipple. She arched her back as he nursed there sucking and nipping there like a nursing infant; she moaned and gripped his neck.
She struggled up and pulled her shirt off, her bare breasts pressing against his chest, kissing as she tore his shirt open caught in frenzy. Erik untied his trousers and rode her dress up, both frantic with need to be loved and prove their love for one another. They were so hurried they didn't even undress completely, just enough to couple. He braced her against him and they moved, her sitting on his lap, both panting and crying till they were spent to the point of exhaustion, Erik finished as a bolt of lightning flashed across his face and she screamed. He released and collapsed still inside her, the storm raging as intensely as their passion and he lay down on her chest.
They slept then, and as they drifted off the water calmed, her eyes closing as he sighed into her chest. Their love was calm now as calm as the now steady raging storm.