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Do I Dream Again?	By : LaurieBaker Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 10050 -:- 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.

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“Are you quite certain your fiancée is well, sir?” The officiate cast a fleeting glance at Christine, sitting quietly on the divan in the parlor of their new home. “She seems a bit unwell.”

Blast this nosy minister! Or was he considered a preacher? A priest? A bishop? Erik could not recall his exact title for he never paid much mind to pompous religious customs. All he knew was the nervous little man before him was qualified to marry him to Christine. Also, he was willing to do so with no questions asked, given the right amount of financial persuasion.

“We agreed that there would be no questions,” Erik growled in response before furtively peering at his bride-to-be.

As much as it pained him to admit it, Christine did indeed appear slightly mad.

Dressed in an elegant wedding gown of satin of the right cut and color to bring out the best in her ivory complexion, Christine had never looked more beautiful as his delicate bride. With her dark curls swept up in an elegant do that he had created himself, she could have been a princess. Yet her eyes were unfocused as she stared off into space, oblivious to what was going on around her. Her expression would lead a stranger to believe that she had been drunk or drugged.

Curse it all!

Erik had not expected his mind control to last for such an interminably long time. Yet ever since he stole Christine away from the boarding house the evening before, she had remained in a trance which he had as of yet been unable to break her out of. It was as if she did not want to return to reality. Could a mind, overburdened with responsibilities and stress and anxiety, having been subjected to hypnosis time and again, finally snap with the pressure? Erik had never read of such a thing; yet, he suspected that even Mesmer himself would not have known the answer. If he had somehow hurt Christine, he would never forgive himself. Just the thought made him want to sob in frustration and grief. He could not lose her now...especially now when she was so close to being joined to him forever as his soul mate...

“My fiancée is quite well,” Erik answered, hurriedly making up a suitable lie to tell the officiate. “She had a nasty fall off of a horse a few days ago and broke a few ribs. The pain has been quite severe so she is heavily drugged with laudanum.”

“Oh, the poor dear!” the man sighed, shaking his head with sympathy. “She must love you a great deal to marry you in spite of her injuries.”

“Nothing will keep us apart now, is that not right, my love?”

Following his lead, Christine nodded submissively, probably not even having heard the question.

Erik swallowed with remorse. It was horrid that she was to marry him in such a state. Yet he had no choice but to proceed accordingly. The appointment with the officiate had been prearranged days in advance. And he was determined to see them married before the day was out.

“Come, my sweet. We are anxious to get married, are we not?”

Christine rose to her feet, joining the two men. Taking Erik’s hand, she smiled softly, playing the role of the sweet young bride just the way that he would want her to. She was a perfect bride, all that any man could want, if only...if only she were herself...

Rest was what she needed, Erik said to himself. Once she had recovered from the ordeal of the last few months, she would return to normal. And then there would truly be hell to pay, he thought, holding back a rueful smile at the contemplation of Christine’s temper.

The minister looked at the couple with doubt, obviously exhibiting wariness at the sight of the strange masked man and the eerily quiet woman. Yet he must have concluded that Christine seemed willing enough to go through with the ceremony. Hurriedly, he pronounced them man and wife, skipping any undue formalities.

Tenderly, Erik placed a solid gold ring upon her finger before touching her face with his fingertips. Her skin was cool. As still and placid as she was, she could have been a beautiful work of art. Pressing his mouth against hers chastely, he could not believe how blissful he felt, knowing that she was his wife. There was a time when he never thought such a thing would be possible. Although she did not return his kiss, she did not reject it either.

“Christine, my wife,” he whispered into her ear, savoring his moment of triumph. “I shall make you so happy, my dear. I promise that you shall never have a more loving husband.”

“Well,” the minister harrumphed with some embarrassment, taken aback by Erik’s display of affection. “I should leave you two little lovebirds alone...but first...”

“Ah, yes, of course.”

Erik left his bride’s side in order to pay the minister the bargained amount. The man’s eyes bulged comically. Apparently, the man had never having seen so much money at one time.

“Well, all my good wishes, sir,” he gasped. And then as an afterthought, he acknowledged Christine. “And you too, my lady...all my good wishes to you both, indeed.”

The man seemed to be in a rush to escape what he must have considered an unnerving scene.

Erik escorted him to the carriage waiting outside, carefully instructing the driver how to exit from the maze of forestland surrounding the cottage. As the men left, Erik turned about, staring with pride at his new home. How fortunate he had been to find such a place! It was so perfect for their new married life.

Secluded in a seemingly impenetrable forest, the cottage looked like something out of a fairy tale story. Complete with a thatched roof and white cobblestones, the house could have belonged to Snow White or Cinderella or Thumbelina...any of those heroines in a young girl’s storybook. There was even a scenic little pond with lily pads and a wishing well. Erik was certain that Christine would love the place once she had regained her senses.

While the cottage was cozy, it was not too small. After all, Erik needed plenty of space for the possessions he meant to acquire. There were a great many things that he had lost in the Paris fire which he found that he had missed dearly. And now that he had found a place that he was content to settle in for the rest of his days, it was time to rebuild his library and art collection. But first and foremost, a new pipe organ must be obtained immediately for he still had the score of his new Wuthering Heights opera reverberating in his mind. Also, he would buy a new wardrobe for Christine, for he was damned if he was going to see her in any more of her drab black dresses.

As he walked through the secret pathway in the forest, Erik congratulated himself on the speedy purchase and preparation of this new abode. Granted, in a week’s amount of time, there was only so much that could be done, but he was satisfied. It had cost him a great deal of effort and money to get the necessary furniture and furnishings required for a house suitable for his wife. Yet he worked as tirelessly at the project as if he were composing a symphony. Night and day, he feverishly set himself to the task of creating their new home, not sleeping for several days at a time.

At last, entering the cottage, he spied Christine. She had not left the parlor. Once more, she had reclined upon the divan, her eyes half closed in a somnambulant state.

Sitting beside her, Erik felt his heart race when he realized that he was alone with her. Alone with his legally married wife.

And now you are here with me...no second thoughts...you’ve decided...decided...

But she had not decided, the pesky voice warned inside of his head.

Of course, Christine would be understandably upset with him for his actions. Yet he felt he had not choice but to hypnotize her into doing his will. After her maidenly protestations behind her closed door, he found her actions had become completely unpredictable. She was so plagued with fears of religion and sex and love that she no longer seemed to know her own mind. She needed him to show her what path to take. Indeed, it was the only path available for her now for he would allow her no other alternatives.

Perhaps before that night of their tryst in his room, he would have done things differently. Perhaps he would have sacrificed her again to the likes of the Vicomte. Perhaps he would have waited longer. But that night had set his dreams aflame as they had never been before. She wanted him. She would have given herself to him completely had they not been interrupted. Her passionate sighs haunted his dreams. He would never know peace again until Christine was where he had always wanted her...in his bed...

Sitting beside her on the divan, Erik held her hand, kissing her wedding band reverently.

“Please wake up, sweet wife,” he whispered as he bowed his head. “My wife...”

Unable to help himself, he rained kisses down upon her lips, on her cheek and down the line of her neck. She smelled so sweet and felt softer than the satin of her gown. God, how he wanted her!

Sweeping her into his arms, Erik carried Christine into the bedroom, barely noticing the weight of her satin wedding gown. As he laid her down upon the large bed, she looked every bit as seductive as he had imagined. The red velvet bedding set off her complexion and hair to perfection just as he knew that it would. Had there ever been a more beautiful woman?

He should leave her side at once. It would be all too easy to ravish her in her helpless state, taking his hard-earned pleasure with callous disregard of her state of mind and being. Indeed, he would be doing her a favor for she would not remember the pain of her maidenhead being breached. She would awaken by his side and truly be his wife, knowing nothing but pleasure.

But he would not do such a thing. In the first place, such actions would only prove him to indeed be a monster to abuse her in such a cavalier fashion. Secondly, he did not want a mindless doll in his bed. No, he wanted Christine as she had been before, writhing and shivering and blushing. Indeed, he would settle for nothing less.

With a sigh of longing, Erik began to walk towards the door, having made up his mind to sleep on the divan. After all, he had waited for her for so long. What was another night when they would spend the rest of their lives together?

Resolutely, he closed the bedroom door and proceeded to rest upon the divan. Surprisingly enough, he slept. That is until he was attacked by a she-demon who kicked and scratched at him in fury, waking him up into a world of bitter reality.

“How could you!” Christine stood before him, sobbing in her wedding gown. Removing the wedding ring, she flung it at him in fury. “Oh, God, Erik, how could you?!”
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Do I Dream Again?