And Christine finally gets a break! Er... sorta. But she's far from out of the woods.

I really love this Erik because he's cruel and at the same time in love, So what he does is because he 'loves Christine,' such as the Raoul part. He was happy that she had saved him while ridding them of him, then he didn't have to kill him with her knowing, as she would be upset over that. I feel like this Erik, though dark, is more accurate to canon than my Lilacs one, too.

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My last will had gone away with those cruel words to Raoul. I doubted he was gone for good, but I lied to myself that he wouldn't return. I had wounded him deeply enough.

Perhaps Erik saw that I wasn't even a threat to myself at that point, because he was gentle with me all evening, and permitted me to prepare for bed alone.

I slid beneath the sheets with heavy eyelids. I knew Erik would come in at some point, unable to resist the temptation, but I found I didn't care. I didn't care.

By some miracle, I managed to fall into tumultuous nightmares, but then awoke in opaque darkness. The dreams had set me on edge, and I called out, "Erik?"

"It's alright, my dear," he whispered from the corner in front of me. "I won't do anything, I'm merely here to be sure you're safe."

I nodded weakly, "Goodnight..."

My next nightmare was incredibly real, of Erik violating his promise, and I woke up flailing and panting in horror.

"What's wrong?" Erik asked, the chair creaking as he stood. "Are you alright, my darling?"

"A nightmare..." I whispered. "O-only a nightmare."

"You're safe here, no matter whether you believe it or not, you are."

"I believe it," I lied. "I'll be fine..."

He sat back upon the chair. I remained tossing and turning with taut eyelids the rest of the night.

In the morning, I found a vase of roses by my bedside. Erik's chair in the far corner was unoccupied.

I pulled the covers over my head. As a child, it had given me a sense of comfort and safety to do this, and somehow it repeated the feeling now.

Raoul... my poor Raoul...

I began to cry just before Erik came into the room. He pulled back the bedsheets from my tear-streaked face, and I stared up at him passively.

"You shouldn't cry so much," he told me. "It will exhaust you... I made you breakfast, you must eat some of it. Don't trouble yourself with getting dressed, just come in your nightgown and shawl."

I have no sign of assent.

"Did you hear me, my dear?" He asked.

I nodded weakly.

"You didn't sleep well. I should've given you something for it, but I was afraid I would leave and come back to find you had harmed yourself... But you seem well enough now... I'll permit you a bath, only I'll remain just outside the doorway to be sure you're alright... Isn't that nice? A bath?"

I repeated the same head motion from before.

"But let's eat now, then you can have one."

He brought me into the dining room and sat me down at the table. I stared at my empty plate for a good minute until Erik began to fill it for me with a few fruits and some toast.

"You only need to eat that," he told me. "It's not much... Come now, my dear, just a bit of it?... Why won't you speak? Are you alright?"

"No," I whispered.

His chair scraped against the floorboards as he stood, "I understand... But you must eat. That's all I require of you for now, for a whole week, you must only eat. You can do most anything you like if you only do that."

My body comprehended faster than my mind, and I couldn't taste the food, nor did I know how fast I was eating until I looked down at the plate and found it bare. Then I glanced up and realized that Erik had been reading in his armchair, evidently knowing I might be some time.

I hadn't the energy to stand up or call to him. I rested my head against the varnished wood, shutting my eyes.

"Are you asleep?" Erik whispered, coming over to me.

I didn't stir.

"Poor little dear, but she'll be fine in a week or two... maybe a month... perfectly fine..."

He slid an arm beneath me, and another one around me so that I could be carried to my room. He placed me upon the bed with delicate attention.

"I know you're not asleep," he told me. "But it's alright, only, tell me when you're going to take a bath."

I shifted onto my side, curling up into a ball. Perhaps an hour later I found myself turning on the silver tap on the bath and adjusting the temperature with my hand. I played with the waterfall, letting it glide between my fingers.

Erik came into the room, his arms crossed.

"Didn't I tell you to say when you would have a bath?" He said.

I stared at him blankly, then began to cry.

"Oh, I didn't mean to upset you. It's alright, perfectly fine, you were tired and didn't hear me, yes? But I'll wait just outside the doorway to be sure you're safe."

I turned off the water and put a handful of fragrance in it. Lavender. I slipped out of my nightgown and folded it in the corner, with my sea-green shawl atop it.

I dipped my foot beneath the surface. It was too hot, but I didn't care, and continued until I had sunk as low as I could, my chin level with the foam. Then I sat further upright, rubbing my arms with a bar of soap, and began to sing to myself:

"Källan sprang ur jordens barm,

Log mot solens kyss så varm,

Klar som dagens blick den var,

Lika skön och underbar.

Kom så fram till kallans brädd,

Liten tärna, blyg och rädd,

Såg sin spegelbild i den,

Tvådde ros och lilja se'n.

Källan, grumlad en sekund,

Af den leken på dess grund,

Stod snart åter lika klar,

Lika djup och underbar.

Tiden gick med barnets lek,

Snart en jungfru, skön, men blek,

Fram till källans spegel gick,

Med en bruten liljas skick.

När hon såg sin bild där stå

Föll en sorgens tår därpå.

Och fast nyss så spegelklar,

Nu förmörkad källan var!

Och där växla höst och vår:

Mörk och grumlig källan står."

Sommar kommer, vinter far:

Aldrig mera blir den klar..."

"Do you often sing when you bathe?" Erik asked from the doorway, where he sat with his back facing me.

"Sometimes..." I whispered.

I stood up, dripping beads of water, and wrapped a towel about myself, dabbing at each individual droplet with the corner. I was too exhausted to be efficient.

"What would you like to do today?" Erik offered.

"Knit, read a book... play music..." I answered monotonously. "What else is there?"

"There will be more once this week is over. I'm taking you to look at houses on Monday."

"Houses?..." I said, glancing at him as I wrapped myself in a second towel. "You promise we will?"

"Yes, and we should move into it within two months," he told me, evidently delighted to share the news. "It'll be on the edge of Paris. I have four in mind, though two I prefer, but of course, you ought to choose. You're the wife, after all. And you can have it look however you please, with anything you like inside. I understand you're not one for antiques. And it will be wonderful, with three bedrooms or more, two bathrooms, perhaps a library or music room, if you so desire. I really don't care what it is so long as you approve of it. And I don't want you troubling yourself with money at all, don't ever ask me about that. It'll be an expensive home, though, that I promise... But don't worry, you won't keep it, I'll have a maid come by a few days a week, so you needn't work... Doesn't that sound nice?"

I began to cry, "I was afraid I would be trapped down here forever."

"Why would that happen? I already told you we would have a house."

"I didn't believe you..."

"But now you do, yes?"

"I do..." I said, though I still wasn't fully sure.

"Good... You can cease crying now, everything's alright... Now get dressed and then we can play music for the morning."

"Could-?" I asked as he started to leave the room.

"Could what?"

"Could we... go outside at all before then?"

Silence. I swallowed my trepidation.

"I'll consider it," he told me. "I expect a brougham through the Bois would be acceptable to you?"

"It would make me so happy, Erik."

"Perhaps tomorrow night, then... or tonight, let me see..."

The door shut behind him, and his footsteps faded away.

It was then I realized that, knowing Erik, these kindnesses were likely to have some expectation attached. He would want something from me. Perhaps a kiss for whenever he took me outside, and when he had the house... w-when he had the house...

I shook my head. No need to think of that now. I should only think about the present, not the past nor the future, here and now, or else I would cause myself further suffering.

"Perhaps it won't be so bad," I lied to myself as I dressed. "If he does procure a house, but then doesn't expect anything from me, it won't be so terrible... not so terrible..."

I turned to the mirror. My nose had almost returned to its normal shape, though it had a sickly hue to it. My forehead still bore fading bruises. I glanced down at my wrists and found they were healing rather nicely, though their mistreatment was still evident.

"Christine, my love?" Erik called from the door. "Do you have a request for music?"

"I don't care," I replied.

"I couldn't quite hear you, your voice is rather faint today. What was that?"

"I don't care."

"Would you mind if you sang a piece I wrote for you?"

"Couldn't we just play Mozart?" I asked.

He chuckled, "You change your mind so often. But I suppose, if that's what you want, it'll do... Are you nearly done?"

I stared into my reflection, "I'm pinning up my hair."

"No, no, I would prefer it down. Just leave it how it is."

"Okay..." I whispered, shuffling over to the door.

I didn't want to be with him. He had made me tell Raoul that I hated him.

No... I had done that to save Raoul. Erik would've killed him had I not. Murdered him within earshot of me.

I shivered and emitted a whimper at the thought. The door to my room opened slow enough to creak.

"Why are you taking so long?" He asked. "You know how much I love you."

"I'm so tired," I replied. "So very tired..."

"Perhaps we should wait for music, then," he offered hastily. "A book, maybe? Could I read to you?"

I nodded, "Yes, that's fine..."

I spent the morning at his feet, my head resting on the side of his knee. Every once in a while, Erik would take a curl in his finger and twirl it softly enough he thought I wouldn't notice, then quickly replace it. I didn't mind so much. I didn't feel like I would mind anything now.

And that day dragged on like that. I could tell Erik was becoming upset at my attitude, as he yelled at me a few times without warning or reason, and spewed apologies swiftly following.

I collapsed onto my bed in tears at the end of the day, and fell asleep curled up like that, atop the covers in my lace nightgown. I woke up in the middle of the night and found I had been tucked in. Erik offered me a tonic to help me go back to sleep, and when I said no, he told me he needed me to sleep in longer so he could run errands in the morning without having to worry about me. So I drank it.

The following morning, Erik came in all cheerful and excited, talking without breathing about how happy he was to have a wife, and how happy I would be once I had a proper house to live in. He left me alone to dress, but paced outside the door as I did so. There was something about his manner that made me shut my eyes in dread. He seemed to be waiting for me to come out so he could show me something.

"What is it, Erik?" I sighed as I emerged.

He took my hand and patted it, "I know you said you didn't want pets."

"Yes."

"But you also told me before that, as a girl, you had wanted a dog, so I thought, for just a day, you might enjoy a few puppies."

"Puppies?" I mouthed in confusion.

"Poodle puppies, and their mother."

"But for the day?"

"Yes. I found a way to have them for a day and then send them back... Are you happy about this?"

My features rose slightly, "It's very nice of you..."

He had set up a white pen in the drawing room, and inside were three little clouds and their well-groomed mother, who was curled up as they pawed at her gray stomach.

Erik picked one up for me, "You women are so curious for liking these sorts of things."

"Some men like them too," I replied quietly, taking the puppy and placing it in my lap. Its little pink tongue flashed across my fingertips.

"They do? But they're rather annoying, yipping all the time and ruining furniture..."

"But they're cute."

"Yes, adorable," he replied sarcastically. "But have fun with them. I'll return them after we go on our ride tonight."

I caressed the puppy's ears. I didn't know what to think of Erik anymore. He defied definition. Was he a madman? An evil one? Only trying to love me in the worst ways he could think up?

But he hadn't made use of his marital right yet. At least there was that.

That night, after dinner, he told me to change clothes if I so desired before our ride. I put on his favorite dress, thinking if I pleased him enough, he would let me out every day, or at least often. I couldn't bear being trapped beneath the earth without a ray of sunshine or a breeze. It was torture enough even without him.

"How beautiful you look," he told me, in one of his nicest suits and his false nose.

I averted my eyes in mock shyness, though truly I had developed a disgust for his appearance within the four days since he had brought me down here, chloroformed and white with fear. Before, I had managed to stare directly into his eyes without a shiver, but now I found myself near incapable.

He helped me into the boat, and I glanced around into the darkness as we pushed off into musty air and black waters.

"Would you like to go shopping with me sometime?" Erik offered as he rowed.

I was staring blankly into the water, and answered emotionlessly, "I would love that."

"Is there anything you would like? Combs, pins, jewels? Oh, I don't believe you have a brooch at all, would you like one?"

I nodded, my ears not retaining a word.

He tied up the boat and then assisted me out, all gentlemanly. I was barely retraining myself from running to the cool air.

He pulled on my arm, "If you make a fuss of any sort, you will remain at home for quite some time, understood?"

I nodded.

He patted my hand, "I had to be sure... I didn't hurt you, did I? You were walking briskly enough I feared you might be too excited."

"You didn't hurt me," I lied. "I'm only excited to be above ground again."

"Yes, it's terrible for you to spend so much time down there, but there's nothing else to be done at the moment. Once you decide on a house, I'll have it prepared as quickly as possible. You'll be much happier then..."

I knew a house above ground wouldn't be any better than the one below, save that I could see sunlight through a proper window. I would be as much a prisoner there as I was here... hopefully not more so...

The brougham was waiting for us. I stared up at the moon, my lips parting, and Erik gently prodded me through the door.

"How beautiful the world is," I whispered. "Could I open the window?"

"Leave it closed for now," he replied.

I nodded weakly. Once the sun had fully set, he told me I could open it, but only enough to let in a thin breeze.

"You've been quiet ever since yesterday," he told me.

I continued staring outside, my lips gently parted.

"I don't understand why," he remarked.

My heart reddened at this, and I nearly snapped at him, but managed to restrain myself.

"Won't you reply?" He asked, his hand finding mine.

I snatched it away from him and brought it beneath my chin.

"I decide to take you out of the house and you won't even let me hold your hand," he said coldly and calmly.

"I'm sorry..." I whispered. "I was surprised is all."

I let my hand fall back into his grasp.

"You don't know how pretty your little hand is," he told me. "Your eyes are pretty, too, if you would look at me."

"The moon is lovely," I replied.

"Quite..."

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Version of Swedish song in English:

From Earth's heart a spring there welled,

To the sun's warm kiss it smiled,

Clear it was as day's own light,

Just as pure and wondrous bright

To the spring comes, half afraid,

Now a little, childlike maid,

At her picture takes a peek,

Wets each rose-and-lily cheek.

Now this sport a little while

From below the spring did rile;

Very soon 't was clear and pure,

Just as wondrous as before. —

Flies the time, the child is gone,

Comes a maiden fair and wan ;

Goes and gazes in the spring

Like a broken lily-thing.

On the face she sees below

Falls a tear of grief and woe,

And the spring, but now so clear,

All at once grows black and blear.

Fall and winter changes bring,

Murk and muddy stays the spring;

Summers, winters, year by year,

Nevermore the spring shall clear.