| Chapter 4 ~ Don Juan Triumphant |
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| A dark depression settled over me. I knew Erik had to be somewhere in the Opera House, but I did not know how to reach him. Plus, I was afraid that if I did try to call him to me, I would be endangering both of our lives. Raoul seemed to think that I had become a danger unto myself. He insisted that I see a doctor who could help me "mend my mind." I heard people whispering about my madness, |
| and I felt like a drowning woman who had no hope of being rescued. The only people who were kind to me were Madame Giry and her daughter, Meg, but even they were cautious around me. I had no one to turn to but Raoul. At last, the night arrived in which the Phantom's opera, "Don Juan Triumphant," would be presented to the public. I stood before my mirror, watching as my maid laced me into my Spanish costume. I thought of the role I was about to sing, Amnita, which Erik had written for me. "At least I can give you this satisfaction," I said quietly. "Pardon, mam'selle?" my maid asked. "Nothing," I said. "I was just thinking of an old friend." She gave me an odd look and quickly completely her task of attending to me. When she left, the guards informed me that the show was about to begin. I thanked them, then I closed the door to warm up my voice. I practiced the lessons Erik had taught me, and I thought warmly of the months we had spent together. I extended my arms toward the grand mirror, searching one last time for my angel's voice and face. "No thoughts within my head but thoughts of joy," I sang. "No dreams within my heart but dreams of love!" I waited for a moment, hoping with all my heart that Erik would answer me. Alas, all was silent. * * * * * The stage was lit and I could hear the chorus bellowing out Erik's discordant melodies. I took a peek at the audience and could see their faces screwed up in consternation. I sighed and took a deep breath. It was time for me to take the stage. I sang as Erik had taught me, letting the music surge throughout my being, a mixture of mystery and unbridled delight. When it came time for Piangi (the tenor who was playing Don Juan) to sing, a very different voice answered my call. I thought for certain my mind was playing tricks on me, and I tried to shake myself from my imaginings. It seemed that no matter where I went, I would hear Erik's voice inside my head. Perhaps I truly had lost my mind. I continued to perform with the Don Juan character, teasing and tempting him, as I abandoned myself to my fantasy. I could almost imagine that it was Erik who was singing to me, Erik who was dressed as Don Juan and was taking such license to touch me. I pulled him to me and pressed my body against his in a lover's embrace. Then I placed my cheek against his cloaked visage and distinctly felt the hard surface of a mask beneath the velvet. A mask! I nearly lost my balance with this discovery and did not know what to do. Was it really Erik? Had he risked his life to appear on stage with me? I felt him grasp my hand as he swept us both across the stage. He pulled me to him seductively, and I felt my curiosity get the better of me. I had to see him! I threw back his hood and was nearly blinded as his white mask gleamed in the hot stage lights. He turned from me, almost embarrassed, and I cast a nervous glance offstage. Would the gendarmes fire at us both? When Erik turned back to me, he held a thin gold wedding band in his hands. He reached out to me and placed the ring on my finger. As he did so, he began to sing a love song that pulled at my heart and mind. I could not think, could not see clearly in the glare of the stage lights. And I so longed to see Erik, to see if his face would still frighten me. Without thinking, I pulled the mask from him and displayed his gruesome visage for all to see. "Wicked Pandora!" he cursed. He swept me violently into his arms, his dark cloak swirling about us. Suddenly, the lights (the entire world!) disappeared from view as we dropped through a trapdoor. I cried out in surprise and fear, but Erik took hold of me and lifted me into his arms. He carried me down the cellar steps to the little boat which would take us to his home by the underground lake. I was shaking with fear as he set me down in the boat. He easily pushed us onto the lake and began to row us over the dark waters. Then he turned his blazing eyes my way and unleashed the storm of his anger. He spoke like a madman, railing at me for my cruel curiosity and threatening to end our lives if I did not marry him. I was shocked at his words and behavior, and feared that I had been foolish in imagining him to be a gentle, loving figure. I had no idea how to comfort him. I tried to speak, but he continued to rant and sob at intervals. I thought if he would only be calm for a moment, I could gather my strength and perhaps give him the comfort he sought. But his madness endured, and when we reached the dock near his home, he pulled me from the boat and ushered me into his house. He locked the door behind us and let out an evil chuckle. I ran into the drawing room, hoping that the familiar surroundings would put us both at ease. "Erik!" I entreated. "Please calm yourself. You are frightening me!" "I? Frighten you, Christine?" he asked incredulously. He stopped in the middle of the room and stared at me. "You weren't just unmasked before a crowd of strangers who were trying to kill you!" He threw his arms around himself and suppressed a shudder. "I risked everything to come to you tonight, and you threw me to the wolves!" he cried. I wept at my cruelty and tried to hide my shame from him, but he pulled my hands from my face and forced me to look at him. "If you preferred me unmasked, my dear, you should have said something," he said wickedly. I tried to sputter out some sort of apology, but my courage had failed me, and I could only sob uncontrollably. Suddenly, an alarm went off in the house, and Erik turned his head to the side, listening to some unseen force. I could see his jaw set in determination, and his demeanor instantly frightened me. I tried to back away, but the motion caught his eye, and he turned his attention back to me. "Going somewhere, Madame Mischief?" he scoffed, advancing dangerously towards me. "You must be freezing,wearing that silly little costume from the Opera! Come! You must be properly attired to greet our guest!" "Guest?" I stammered. "Erik, what guest? I don't see or hear anyone!" "Ah," he answered slyly, "but you will!" He led me to my bedroom, the room he had fashioned for me, and he threw open the door. There on the bed lay a beautiful wedding gown. The white satin gleamed in the candlelight, making me think of Erik's mask. I unconsciously moved towards the magnificent dress and reached out to touch the fine lace. "I had so hoped I could propose to you properly," Erik said sadly. "But you were not to be found. You ran from me, just like my poor mother who could not stand the sight of me." I turned to look at him, my poor beloved Phantom leaning heavily in the doorway. He looked so broken and lost, and my heart ached for me to go to him. But I was paralyzed by anxiety and didn't know what to do. "Erik..." I murmured finally, hoping he would prompt me to find my voice. We both looked at each other helplessly, waiting for the other one to speak. A horrible silence filled the room as he waited for me to unveil my true feelings, and I prayed for my courage to appear. "You left me, Christine," he accused, and he looked at me like a hurt child. "Well, I won't have you run away again! You will marry me, or we shall all be dead and buried!" "What?" I asked, choking on my tears. Why did he have to turn a potentially gentle moment into a threat of violence? "There's no time for questions, love," he answered mockingly. "I must attend to our guest, and you must get dressed!" He locked me in my room, and I found myself mechanically complying with his request. I brushed the tears from my eyes and quickly donned the wedding gown. * * * * * The rest of the evening became a grim farce. Raoul had followed us and was now Erik's prisoner. Erik had caught him with his Punjab Lasso, nearly strangling Raoul. My poor friend was trapped like an animal, and I could not help but think of the cruel jests Raoul had made earlier when he had boasted about catching the "Phantom Beast." Now who was the captor and who was the captive? Erik drew me away from the tormented figure of Raoul and took my hands in his. "You have but to consent to be my wife, Christine, and I will spare his life," he said. I stared at him in horror. Did he really believe that his threats would coax words of love from me? If he had approached me at another time when my thoughts were filled with the sweet memory of him, I might have said, "Yes." But now I was struck dumb with terror, and I didn't know how to respond to his mad declarations. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Erik must have misinterpreted this sign, for he pushed away from me and growled in defeat. "You try my patience, girl! Make your choice!" His anger would have made any normal person quake with fear, but I suddenly realized that Erik and I were far from normal. I looked at him, standing proud and tall in his fine dress clothes, and I somehow knew he would not hurt me. My mind fluttered open with an untapped clarity, and I instantly saw beyond his apparent rage. He was trembling, but not from anger. He was overcome with pain and grief! He looked like some tragic figure in an opera - a deposed king, or a fallen angel. How much had this man suffered throughout his lifetime simply because of the deformity of his face? I moved towards him, my heart full of pity. I reached out to touch him and took his poor face in my hands. The contact startled us both, and he looked at me in surprise. I gazed deeply into his eyes, and let my fingers caress his ravaged features. Then I pulled his lips to mine and kissed him. The kiss was the most incredible thing I had ever experienced in my life. It was dark and deep, full of secrets and desires that fought to come to the surface. Rapture, sweet bliss, and complete ecstasy! The kiss ignited us both with a searing heat that could not be denied. We were on fire with our long-denied passion for one another. I could not stop touching him, and I longed for him to touch me, but he seemed too awestruck to return my caresses. My lips sought his again and again, and I pressed my body to his with the same wantonness that I had onstage. I was enraptured with him, completely his, body and soul. We were electrified, joined forever by that kiss. When we finally parted, we simply stared at each other. A thousand unspoken thoughts seemed to race between us, and I wished that we could have fallen into each other's arms once again. But Raoul was there, and he was still in danger. I heard him gasp as he struggled in his bonds, and I looked helplessly to Erik. As if in a dream, Erik moved slowly towards Raoul and easily cut the noose that held him. Raoul fell to the floor, and I unconsciously moved to help him up. Erik turned away from us and ordered us to leave his house, never to return. I could not believe my ears! Did he really want me to go? Raoul began to pull me from the room, eagerly heading for the door. I asked him to wait for a moment, then I ran back into Erik's drawing room. My mighty angel had fallen. He was cradling my veil in his arms, holding it as if it was a manifestation of me. I knew then that he was mine. "Erik," I whispered. He turned to me with tears in his eyes. "Christine...." he said brokenly. "I love you." I caught my breath, fearing I would not have the strength to go through with the plan that had already formed in my mind. I removed the ring he had given me and held it out to him. "I'll be back," I promised. He reached out to take the ring from me, and the contact of our flesh was like a small shock of fantasy made reality. I had to break away before Raoul came looking for me. I cast one last look at my beloved Phantom then hurried back to Raoul. Raoul was waiting for me in Erik's boat, and he quickly rowed us back to the dock by the Opera House. He jumped from the boat, his boots landing hard on the wooden dock, and he set the pole aside to reach out for me. Instead of taking his hand, I grabbed the pole and pushed the boat away from the dock. "Christine!" he cried in disbelief. "What are you doing?" "I'm going back," I said simply. He nearly laughed. "You must be out of your mind!" "Perhaps," I replied. "Or perhaps I'm in love." "Now I know you must be mad," he said sternly. "Get out of that boat this instant, Christine. You are coming home with me." "Raoul, would you really want a wife whose heart was not solely yours?" I asked. "Would you want a woman by your side who dreamed of another?" He seemed aghast at my speech, but finally answered, "Yes." "No, you wouldn't," I said. "You deserve better than that." I pushed the boat farther out onto the lake. Somehow I found the strength to row myself away from Raoul. "I'm sorry if I hurt you," I said. "You will always be the brave little boy who dove into the sea to fetch my scarf." I cursed my sense of melodrama, for I could tell he was ready to dive into the cold lake to try to take me away with him. "Please don't, Raoul," I said evenly. "I am grateful for your kindness, but my heart and soul belong to another." Fortunately, the boat seemed to pick up speed from my efforts, and I was finally moving on my way to Erik's house. I could not look back at Raoul. I felt horrible for speaking so bluntly to him, but I also felt liberated. I had made my own decision. I returned to my Phantom lover, my beloved Erik, who was waiting for me on the shores of his home. He had replaced his mask, and looked quite the ghost in the darkness. But he extended his gloved hand to me to help me from the boat, and the strength of his hand in mine made him finally and utterly tangible. "Christine Daae," he said softly. "Have you really come home to me?" "Yes, Erik," I replied, moving boldly into the folds of his cloak. He cupped my face in his hands and shyly kissed me. A sensual dizziness overtook me as he grew bolder with his kiss, and I was fortunate that Erik had swept me up into his arms, for I had lost my ability to stand. He carried me into his little palace and sung softly to me as I nuzzled his neck. When at last he set me down on the Persian rug in his drawing room, I stood on tiptoe and kissed him once again. This time, it was as if a dam had burst open, and he embraced me fully, covering me with kisses, searing my body and soul with the intensity of his passion. We sank to the floor, and Erik rocked me in his arms. "Mon ange," he sighed happily, and I nestled against his chest, listening to the fierce beat of his heart. It was like his music, thunderous and passionate. "I feel as if my behavior has been anything but angelic," I confessed. He brushed a stray curl from my forehead and hugged me to him. "Please," I whispered, "please forgive me." "My beautiful Christine," he said gently. "It is I who should beg for forgiveness. I am undeserving of you." "No!" I protested, but he pressed a finger to my lips. "You have given me more happiness than I dared to dream of..." he said softly. "Oh, Erik!" I cried. "There is so much more!" I kissed him again and felt the rush of our passion building between us. After an eternity, he finally pulled away and looked into my eyes. "I find myself in uncharted territory," he admitted hesitantly. "We will guide each other," I said as I snuggled against him. The night, the future was ours! ~ The End ~ Back to the Ghost's Story |
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