| ~ Chapter 2 ~ |
| Christine Daae walked home on a cloud of ecstasy. She sighed and hummed happily to herself as she basked in the rosy rays of the dawn. “I'm in love!” she said. “I’m in love, and I’m not afraid!” She veritably giggled with the realization as she let herself into the building that housed her flat. She felt like a schoolgirl, flushed with the excitement of first love, and that feeling seemed to carry her up the three flights of stairs, through the door of her apartment, and into the cozy comfort of her bedroom. Her lavish clothes were discarded in exchange for a plain white nightgown, but Christine loved the feel of the cool cotton against her warm skin. She still felt Erik’s kiss upon her lips, and that made the fire within her burn all the brighter. She blushed furiously when she thought of how she had first kissed him. It had been a bribe, she convinced herself, a bribe to make Erik release Raoul. But then the kiss had transformed into something else, something that overwhelmed and consumed them both. Christine smiled to think of how timidly Erik had first responded to her kiss. He was far more innocent in such matters than she, and in that instance, she had been the teacher. But as she drew him hungrily to her, the intimacy of her gesture broke through any lingering inhibitions, and the Phantom returned her kiss with a fierce and powerful passion. Unbidden, Christine finally succumbed to the pleasure that coursed through her. It was an awakening of her body, mind, and spirit, and she reveled in the discovery and clarity of her senses. Oh, but it felt so good to enfold him in her arms, to release the passion that she had held hostage from him for so long. In that one act of courage, she had finally conquered her fear and acknowledged her true love for him. But then Erik had withdrawn from her embrace, his mien and manner suddenly heavy with resignation. He had turned his back to her, tears catching in his beautiful voice, and he had told her to go away. He had even turned to Raoul for assistance in the matter, ordering the younger man to escort her from the premises. Confused, Christine had obediently followed the excited Vicomte through the dark maze beneath the Paris Opera House. But she could not turn her mind away from the man who had captured her heart: Erik! As she stumbled into the Rue Scribe with Raoul, she suddenly realized that Erik would never come for her again. If she ever wanted to see him, it would have to be of her own volition. Fueled by this revelation, Christine had stopped mid-flight. In an uncharacteristic moment of strength, she turned to Raoul and told him that she could not leave with him. “I’m sorry, Raoul,” she had said, trying to ignore the pained expression on the Vicomte’s face. “But I love him. I have to go back!” Raoul had looked at her like she was completely insane. He had even tried to force her into his carriage with him, but Christine had pulled herself from the Vicomte’s grasp, and hurried back to the Phantom with the wind at her heels. She lightly touched her lips, reliving the elation of Erik’s kiss at her return, and her heart once again flooded with joy. Her face broke out into a smile, and she fell back onto her bed, exhausted but content. As she pulled the covers about her, Christine drew the small curtain to her bedroom window that would shut out the morning light. There was something in the brightness of the forthcoming day that made her think guiltily of Raoul, and she did not want to dwell on unpleasant thoughts. “Forgive me, my friend,” she said again. “But I need my Angel of Music…” For as long as she could remember, Christine had wanted to belong. Whether that was to a person or a place, she had never been certain. But now she knew. She belonged with Erik. And nothing would keep her from that course. As she snuggled into her pillow, sleep finally tugged at her mind, drawing her into its peaceful embrace. For the first time in months, Christine Daae slept soundly. * * * * * * Erik could hardly sleep. He felt like a child anticipating the arrival of Father Christmas. “And Christmas was never a grand event at my Mother’s house,” he mused. A soft mew came from his feet, and Erik looked down to see Ayesha, his beautiful Siamese cat, pawing at his trouser cuffs. He reached down to caress her soft fur, and she rubbed up against him, insisting to be lifted. With a smile, the Phantom scooped her up into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Ah, mon petite,” he said to his purring little lady. “The angels have answered my prayers! She loves me! And she will grow to love you too. I know that you and Christine have not been the best of friends, but you shall get better acquainted on our travels together!” Erik sang to Ayesha and gently rocked her in his arms. Then he placed her on her velvet pillow and turned back to his trunks to continue to pack. * * * * * * When Christine awoke, her room seemed dark. She looked out of her window and saw that the sun was beginning to set. “Mon Dieu! I’ve slept the day away!” she exclaimed. “Why, yes, you have,” a voice said from the shadows. Christine nearly jumped out of her skin and instinctively drew back. She pulled her covers about her and cautiously peered into the dark corners of her room. “Raoul?” she asked shakily, recognizing the Vicomte’s voice. “Yes, my love,” he answered, lighting a candle near her bedside. When the candle flickered into existence, Christine could see that he had positioned one of the chairs near her bed, and was sitting quite close to her. “How long have you been there?” she asked nervously. “Oh, don’t fret, my sweet,” he said with a strange smile. “I have been watching over you while you sleep.” Christine suppressed a shudder and tried to summon her courage. “You should have knocked, or made your presence known,” she scolded him lightly. “It is improper for you to see me like this.” “You will become more accustomed to my presence in your bedroom once we are married,” he said, rising from his seat. “Raoul,” Christine began, “I told you last night….” “Your behavior last night gave me great cause for alarm,” he said, eyeing her dangerously. “I have been so worried about you, Christine. You have not been yourself for some time, and when you told me to leave last night, I knew that a madness had taken hold of you.” “What are you saying, Raoul?” Christine dared to whisper. "I have brought someone to help you," he answered. With a dramatic air, Raoul walked to the door and opened it. Waiting outside of the bedroom was a small, wiry man dressed all in black. He had hawkish features and small beady eyes that darted about excitedly. He spied Christine and quickly came into the room, giving her a minor bow. “Mademoiselle Daae,” he said, his voice rasping like an over-used squeezebox. “Monsieur,” she said, still holding the covers to her throat. “Still in bed, I see!” he exclaimed with a leer. “I told you, doctor, she has not been well,” Raoul explained. Christine gaped at the two men towering over her, the shock preventing her from responding promptly. “Ah, yes! An artiste, is she not?” the strange man muttered. “They are known to be rather high-strung.” He leaned down and peered into Christine’s wide eyes. “Forgive the intrusion, Mlle. Daae. I am Dr. Gerard Ratierre, a physician hired by your dear Vicomte to look in on you.” “I require no physician,” Christine said carefully, looking from the doctor to Raoul. “Yes, yes, I see,” Dr. Ratierre said, taking the liberty to sit on her bed. “But the good Vicomte explained to me that you have been troubled by strange voices in your head. Voices like ... the Angel of Music?” Christine gasped and looked wildly to Raoul, who was trying to hide his smirk beneath a mask of concern. “Tell me,” the doctor continued, “do you hear his voice now?” “No,” Christine answered shakily. “Do you hear any other voices?” the doctor persisted. “No, no!” Christine said vehemently. “But the Angel of Music, what of him?” “You shall know nothing of him!” Christine cried before she could stop herself. She clasped a hand to her mouth and looked at them both in terror. “I see,” Dr. Ratierre said with a twisted smile. He rose to his feet and gave Raoul a knowing look. Then he quietly left the room. “How could you?” Christine hissed once the door had closed. “How could I?” Raoul retorted. “How could you? I risked my life to save you last night, and you decide to fling our love away on that monster? You are not in your right mind!” “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Christine rebelled. “All I know is that you have shamed me!” he spat. “I have offered you my protection and my heart, and you have repaid my kindness with behavior befitting a trollop!” He tore the sheets from her body and grabbed hold of her wrists when she tried to escape. He held her pinioned to the bed. “I have fought my family and my friends,” he seethed, “risking everything to take you as my wife! They have finally accepted this situation, and now you shall fulfill your promise to me!!!” “I can’t, Raoul,” she whimpered. “You can and you will!” he cried, choking on his rage. Christine shook her head and tried to writhe free from his grasp, but Raoul held tightly to her. He even pressed his advantage with a kiss, but Christine fought wildly, biting him and thrashing about. Cursing, Raoul released her and drew back, smoothing the creases from his fine velvet jacket. “You have gone mad,” he said with disgust, and then he reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a set of documents. “I did not want to have to do this, Christine, but you have forced my hand. I have obtained signed confessions from numerous parties stating that you are mentally unbalanced and require medical attention. You see, I have not been the only one to take notice of your altered condition.” Christine stared at him in disbelief. Who would have conspired against her? She looked frantically about the room, hoping for some means of escape, but Raoul blocked the door, and the window was too small to crawl out of. She barely heard Raoul as he rambled on with his rehearsed speech. “You can either accept treatment at my country estate, or in one of the lunatic asylums in the city. While in custody, you will have time to rethink my proposal. I believe you will realize in time that this is all for the best.” “No,” Christine protested weakly. “Erik won’t let you….” “Ah, yes,” Raoul sneered, a dark glint in his eye. “You didn’t think I’d forget about him, did you? I’ve heard that the managers of the Opera House are quite desperate to find him. Who better to show them the monster’s lair than myself?” “No!” she cried. “You can’t possibly….” He leaned towards her and whispered excitedly, “Marry me, Christine, and I’ll never tell Monsieur Firmin or Andre of the Phantom’s whereabouts.” Christine nearly choaked as she struggled to keep the tears at bay. This could not be happening! “I need some time to think,” she answered shakily. “Of course,” he said, standing over her. He straightened his jacket and looked the part of the perfect gentleman once again. “You have fifteen minutes to dress and to pack your things. The doctor and I will escort you from your flat.” Raoul turned from the bewildered Christine and locked the door behind him. He tried to convince himself that he was doing the right thing, that Christine was seriously ill and in need of help. As if to confirm these thoughts, the doctor caught Raoul’s eye and gave him a reassuring nod. Raoul breathed a sigh of relief and reminded himself that he had saved Christine once before; he would do so once gain. Christine bolted from her bed and ran over to her desk. Her thoughts raced wildly as she penned a quick letter to Erik. She had to get word to him somehow that she was being abducted! It seemed impossible – just when she was on the brink of such happiness, to be torn from her beloved before they had the chance to make their dreams come true! She dressed hastily and stuffed the missive into her sleeve, thinking perhaps that if worse came to worse, she could drop the paper in the street, and word might somehow reach Erik. If anything, whoever found the letter would know she was in trouble and would alert the authorities. She whispered a prayer that time and fate would be on her side. ~ Chapter 3 ~ |