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No Easy Way	By : secretlysecretly Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 7568 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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A/N: Take a deep breath before reading this chapter. From this point on, Christine makes an appearance and OUR Christine is not exactly the sweet, innocent, docile creature that most of you are used to. So, approach at your own risk! ;-)

Chapter 16

It had been three days since Marianne’s arrival to her aunt’s house and she was beginning to terribly miss Erik Destler. She had been spending her days idly sipping tea with her aunt and her guest, while having to endure long preachings from her aunt regarding how foolish she was being, not yet married at her age. The groom after all had been chosen for her since before she was born. The Baron Dervaux was the perfect candidate for the ‘job’ since he was anything a woman could ever hope for. Handsome, refined, rich, a gentleman that would always take care of her and ask only for her devotion in return.

Marianne simply couldn’t convince her aunt that there was more to a woman’s life than money, titles and the need to procreate. She had been told time and time again during the past few days that all her ravings for love were utterly foolish. After all, if she were to finally settle down and marry the Baron, surely love would follow.

They had been friends since childhood and in her aunt’s mind this fact alone, combined with Baron Olivier Dervaux’s vast property guaranteed a life of happiness to the pair. The perfect example for that was her young visitor and Marianne’s second cousin, the Viscountess De Chagny. True, the young Viscountess was not of noble origin herself, but she had incredible luck when she reunited with her childhood friend and was rescued from a lifetime spent as a Primadonna at the Opera Populaire. Fortunately, the young Viscountess had been logical enough to agree without a moment’s hesitation to abandon her formerly scandalous lifestyle.

However, when the young women would take long strolls in the gardens of her aunt’s estate, Marianne could discern a certain air of melancholy about Christine De Chagny. The petite woman would often complain about not spending enough time with Raoul, or being unable to meet with her old friends from the Opera as often as she would have liked.

The couple still did not have any children after spending nearly three years married to each other and although Christine would always say how caring and wonderful Raoul was being to her, she had admitted on one of their walks that her life had become trivial now that routine had settled in their marriage and that she sometimes missed her life as a Primadonna at the Opera Populaire.

When Marianne had asked her why she didn’t follow her husband on his business travels since she had no children holding her back, for the time being at least, the Viscountess had replied that it was no use following Raoul around if she wouldn’t be his main concern anyway. The remark had seemed somewhat egotistical at the time but then again, who was Marianne to judge this woman whom her favorite cousin absolutely adored?

Would she ever find a man to love her so much as Raoul adored Christine? Did true love really exist? Had her cousin really found it? As much as she had envied Raoul for his good fortune when he had announced his engagement to his childhood sweetheart, she couldn’t help but notice that his wife seemed preoccupied with something- and she could swear that it wasn’t due to her husband’s absence from her side.

Many a time during these days they had spent in each other’s company, she would notice Christine would drift off as if in a daydream. The first time it had happened she had tried to turn Christine’s attention back to the present by saying “I see you are truly in love with Raoul, Christine. Were you just dreaming of my lucky cousin?”

Perhaps it had only been her imagination, but she thought at the time that Christine had a guilty look upon her face. Although it could be attributed to the truth of her words, Marianne had tested her suspicion and pressed the young woman on. “Don’t worry my dear. I’m sure he will be back by your side in no time.” To which Christine’s only response had been a dismissive pursing of her lips as if the matter didn’t interest her one bit.

It was times like this that Marianne grew guarded regarding Christine De Chagny. She hoped that she was just being paranoid but she just couldn’t help herself.

Hence these doubts that kept her up this third night visiting with her aunt. She stood from the bed, putting on a peignoir to protect herself against the night’s chill and opened her window to let some fresh air into the room. Perhaps it would help clear her head and she would finally get some rest.

Marianne had always been a hopeful romantic. Hopeful? Maybe hopeless was more like it. Bearing witness to Christine’s indifference to mentions of her husband, less than three years into their marriage, she couldn’t help but think that maybe-just maybe- true love was a foolish dream only existing in the hearts of eternal optimists who read romantic novels.

She had reached the 27th year of her life, and still love eluded her. Never had she met a man who could stir her heart with a mere glance-when would she finally find her soul mate?

‘Wait… I can think of a man who makes my heart beat wildly every time he’s around.’

Yes that was true. Her new neighbor did indeed make her pulse race in her chest, her stomach turning into a knot since the first time they had met. What good could come of it though? The man was a riddle! Obviously he must have suffered some kind of terrible accident that deformed his face, he wouldn’t wear that damnable mask otherwise, would he? Also, he seemed to be preoccupied with his appearance and what others thought of him, as it was evident to Marianne that although Erik was one of the most ravishing men she had ever laid eyes on, he obviously thought himself unattractive; perhaps even repulsive to the fair sex.

She had to admit that not only did she find Erik Destler handsome, but she thought the man was absolutely breathtaking. His eyes were the most peculiar pair she had ever seen. Normally green, they would alternate colors depending on his mood. They were almost yellow whenever he was in a jovial mood; they would turn a deep forest green when he was angry; grayish when he was sad and a dark-green-almost black when he kissed her.

Her hands flew to her mouth as she remembered the touch of his lips upon her own. Those full luscious lips moving against hers, parting to allow his tongue invasion to her mouth. His hands traveling to her hair as she lost herself in his sensuous kiss. His hard torso beneath her fingers which were itching to explore his lithe form.

‘This train of thought is definitely not going to help you relax and go back to sleep. Cease these impudent thoughts at once! He would be disgusted if he even dreamt that you are so shameless!’ She hurried over to the bassinette and poured some water into it, taking some into her hands and touching it to her enflamed cheeks and suddenly a thought passed through her mind.

‘No man that reads Baudelaire would ever be such a prude as to think a woman incapable of having such daydreams. Well… night dreams is more like it.’ She giggled at herself.

She lay back on her uncomfortable bed, shutting her eyes tightly and trying to clear her head of the shameless images of herself in Erik’s arms. When sleep finally came, her dreams were of a tall, brooding man and the haven of his embrace granted her a feeling of such safety as she had not felt ever since her parents had passed away.

Meanwhile, in the room adjacent to hers, Christine De Chagny was fantasizing of the same dark man bearing a mask, imagining that she was once again in his lair, faced with a grave dilemma. In her fantasy though she chose him, no longer captive to her fear and disgust brought on by his hideous face.

Perhaps in time she would learn to accept his deformity. Perhaps he would agree to keep his face hidden for ever only to keep her by his side. Perhaps he would make her the sun of his life, buying her expensive gifts and offering everything her heart desired were she to grace him with her presence in his life. True she wouldn’t bear the title of Viscountess, but perhaps he would compose more operas for her and then she could carry the title of Primadonna. Perhaps her nights in his bed would be spent in searing passion instead of lukewarm companionship.

As the days progressed, Erik started feeling restless. He had spent the better part of the week thinking of Marianne and every once in a while chastising himself for fear that he was raising his hopes way too high. By the end of the week though, he couldn’t help but yearn for her return, anxious to see her once again.

The sunset found him at the labyrinth with a rose in his hand, identical to the one he had presented to Marianne that day. He brought the rose to his face inhaling its intoxicating scent and closed his eyes remembering her sweet blush when she had accepted the flower from his hands.

According to his estimates, Marianne should return the following day. Would she be happy to see him again or had he ruined all his chances with her the last time they had met?

He could only hope that she had missed him a little during her absence as not a single minute had gone by when he hadn’t thought of her.

On an impulse, he took a turn and strode hastily out of the labyrinth.

Marianne sighed in relief. The scenery around her carriage transgressed and became familiar once again. The days she had spent in her aunt’s and her visitor’s company had taken their toll on her. All those sermons about finally settling down and getting married in combination to the blunt young Viscountess, had proven too much for her. Finally, she had made some lame excuse about having to return one day earlier to her house, but not before being courteously obliged by her aunt to invite Christine de Chagny to her estate, so that she would attend the grand opening ball of the season in a week’s time.

Fortunately, upon hearing of the ball the Viscountess had decided to have a dress made, so it came to pass that Marianne was returning on her own to her home, while Christine would follow her in a week and leave Rouen after the ball to return to her husband.

When the carriage crossed the road leading up to her estate’s gate, she squinted through the darkness that was rapidly descending to peer at the direction of Erik Destler’s property. She could make out the outline of the imposing mansion and imagined him seated in his enormous library, leafing through some book. Had he thought about her at all during her absence? The carriage crossed the gate that led up to her house and quickly covered the distance to the door. The next few minutes were filled with commotion as all of the servants working in her household were alerted to Marianne’s return and hastily came to welcome her back.

Meanwhile, Erik had crossed the fields that separated his from the Pinon estate on horseback with great caution not to be seen and was now climbing the wall that led to the only window of the house with no lights. He could only hope that these were Marianne’s quarters as he saw that this was the only room on the second floor with a balcony.As he stretched his torso, grabbing the railing of the balcony, he smirked thinking to himself that even if he had guessed wrong, he could always look for Marianne’s room later. After all, he was used to lurking around in the darkness…

As he stepped onto the balcony and peered through the window, he became confident that indeed he had made the right choice. The room that lay before his eyes gave off an air of elegance, fit only for a lady. The mahogany furniture, the silk bedding and the valuable objects such as the silver handheld mirror and matching hairbrush, or the ivory jewelry case that lay on her vanity set, simply bore witness to his estimates. He attempted to open the window to step into the room but the latch wouldn’t give in and he certainly didn’t wish to provoke her temper by damaging anything.

Looking around him to find something that he could use to break the lock, he suddenly heard voices approaching. ‘Probably maids walking around’ he thought to himself, but at that very moment he saw the doorknob turning. Instantly, he hid in the shadows, supposing it was the chamber maids coming to prepare the room for Marianne’s return. ‘Perfect!’ he mused, ‘Perhaps they will open the balcony doors to let some fresh air into the room.’

He pressed his body further into the wall, becoming one with the shadows as the voices died down and footsteps approached the window. The balcony doors opened and he smiled to himself as the footsteps retreated back into the room and he heard the bedroom door being shut. Looking down to the rose in his hand, he separated himself from the shadows and turned to step into the light that emanated from the bedchamber.

With a satisfied smile, he looked up as he walked into the room to place the rose on Marianne’s pillow, only to find himself staring into the eyes of the object of his affection.

The astonishment in her eyes slowly gave way to amusement as Marianne raised her brow questioningly at him.

“Erik?”

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A/N: We would really appreciate your comments now more than ever!

P.S. A special thanks to BRP for her feedback and the all the info. It seems quite an interesting movie, and we will certainly try to find it!
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No Easy Way