Pity Comes Too Late: Chapter Seven

Phantom of the Opera: Pity Comes Too Late

Chapter Seven: Prelude to a Man and Wife

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"Please don't go to any trouble Belle." Christine said timidly, following the red haired woman out of the kitchen where they had just finished having their late breakfast.

"It's no trouble dear; it's my job. Master Erik pays me well to keep his home and belongings in order." Belle paused for a moment before she added, "And besides, what would he think if his beautiful guest wasn't taken care of properly?" Belle smiled as the younger girl blushed.

"You are too kind Belle," Christine replied, blushing even harder. "But I can't let you wait on me. It wouldn't be right."

The plump woman nodded to her, "I understand sweet, and I would let you take care of yourself. But I promised my Master that I would assist you, whenever you needed it."

Christine couldn't help but smile at her. "Alright Belle, but I get to help."

Belle shrugged indifferently, "I guess that's fair. But the moment it's too much for you, you stop an' let me take over. Agreed?"

Christine nodded in agreement. She couldn't wait to see where the well was.

Belle smiled, and walked to the front door, where she shouldered her gray shawl. Christine, following her lead, put on the nearest coat. It was a black, and obviously made for a man. Christine nearly giggled when she realized that the coat came down clear to her calves. How silly I must look in Erik's coat; she thought, snuggling into the warmth that now encased her.

"Ready duckling," Belle asked, resting her large hand on the door knob.

"I'm ready," Christine answered happily.

Belle opened the door, and a cold wind came blowing in, and Christine was thankful for the coat.

Though the snow fall had stopped a long time ago, it was still very cold out. Belle walked briskly, her eyes roaming the white ground in front of her. Christine eagerly followed her, outside towards the side of the house.

After a moment the red haired housekeeper stopped, and the young singer almost bumped into her.

"Why are we stopping?" Christine asked, her brown eyes looking around for any sign of a well.

Belle gestured towards the cottages' wall. Christine looked in wonder at the sight that met her.

Embedded within the wall surface was a long metal lever with a handle that jutted out a few feet. It was very strange to the eyes after looking down at the snow for a couple of moments. And Christine was no exception. She had seen made metal contraptions in her life at the Opera Populare, but this object was foreign to her.

"What is it?"

"That is one of Master Erik's contraptions dear." Belle answered. "It heats the water in an underground well, and makes it possible for use to bathe in the winter without freezing."

"How does it work?" Christine asked in awe.

"You pull out the lever there, and count to ten. And then you push it back in and turn it counterclockwise."

Christine made a mental note to herself to ask Erik about the details later. Madame Giry was right; she thought astonishment. He is a genius, and an inventor.

Before Christine could ask any more questions Belle asked abruptly, "Want to try?"

"Oh, yes, please."

Belle motioned for her to grab the lever in her hands. Once Christine had, Belle further instructed her, what she needed to do.

"Pull it out from the wall towards you."

Christine did, which was much harder than it looked, and waited for the next direction.

"Now, count to ten and then push it back in. Then you're gonna need to turn it counterclockwise." Belle said from where she was standing, a couple feet away.

Christine counted in her mind, 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. Then she pushed it back in and began to turn it. But turning it was even harder than pulling it. Every inch she turned it took her pushing it as hard as she could.

After another minute of this, Christine heard something click and Belle grinned.

"It's hard isn't duckling?"

"Indeed," Christine agreed, panting slightly, which made her breath come out in a foggy cloud.

Belle couldn't help but laugh again, "Well, now that we've accomplished what we set out to do, how bout we head inside before we turn into human icicles hmm?"

"Please," Christine huffed, turning around to follow the older woman back inside that warm cottage.

Once they were inside and had taken their coats off, Belle ushered Christine into the kitchen. She poured a strange liquid that had been heating in a kettle above the stove into a mug and handed it to the girl.

"Here love," she said kindly before pouring herself a mug as well and sitting down as well.

Christine took a sip, and felt her tongue begin to burn. She gulped it quickly, and set the mug down. Never before had she tasted anything like it. It was sweet, and yet it burned with an intensity that was foreign to her. And even though it had hurt her tongue, she was dying to get more in her mouth.

"What is this?"

Belle sipped from her mug, "Its hot chocolate; with a couple special ingredients, of course."

Christine blew softly into the dark brown drink, and tried again. But it still burned taste buds.

"Special ingredients," Christine replied quietly, forcing herself to drink some more.

"Yes," Belle took another long drink from her cup. "Two such ingredients being, chili pepper, and softened sugar to add more flavor to it."

That explained the burning, and without another thought, Christine tipped back the mug, and finished off her drink. "Thank you Belle."

"You're welcome dear," Belle said finishing her drink as well, and standing up. "Now that I've gotten you warmed up, it's bath time."

"But we still have to take the water up, and pour it into the tub." Christine said, walking to the foot of the staircase.

"I know. But I'll be the one pour while you get undressed."

"But I was going to help you," Christine interjected with a slight frown.

Belle smiled kindly at the girl. "Yes you were. But Master Erik will be home soon, and I promised him I would have you awake and dressed."

"Are you sure you don't need help Belle," Christine asked again as she began to climb the stairs.

"I'm sure, duckling. Go get ready for your bath."

Christine smiled at the older woman, and left to prepare for her bath.

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The Phantom had been riding hard for nearly an hour now, and Aria was getting tired.

"Come Aria," Erik coaxed gently, spurring the horse onward. "We are almost there."

The black mare complied, sensing that her master was anxious. Aria's pace quickened and her breathing became even more labored. She was pushing herself to her limit, for him.

"Good girl," Erik whispered gratefully in her ear, patting her side with one of his gloved hands. "Thank you."

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Belle poured the last bucket of hot water into the large washtub, and chuckled as Christine dunked her head underneath the soapy water.

When she resurfaced, Christine smiled at the laughing Belle, and wiped the water out of her eyes.

"The water is perfectly warm," the girl exclaimed happily. "It feels wonderful!"

"I'm glad duckling," Belle said letting out another low chuckle. She then placed a big white towel next to where Christine's head rested.

"I'll leave you to your bathing now. Call if you need anything."

Christine relaxed, and the red headed woman left the bathroom. And for the first time since Christine had agreed to leave with the Phantom, she stopped thinking, and merely was at ease.

The young singer closed her eyes and paid attention to her body. She felt the hot water sooth her achy arms and legs, before it reached her back and truly began to work its wonders.

Christine moaned aloud. It felt so good. . .

The girl felt herself slipping into a peaceful stupor; and for once she didn't fight it. And ever so quietly, Christine Daae fell into contentment.

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"Belle," Erik called out before he had even dismounted Aria. "Belle!"

The Phantom ran towards the small cottage praying that he wasn't too late. Had he run out of time? He needed to get Christine and leave immediately, before the accursed Vicomte arrived.

Erik opened the large wooden door and called to his housekeeper again. "Belle answer me!"

"In here Master Erik," the plump woman called back after a moment.

Erik followed her voice into the drawing room where he found Belle crocheting a beautiful white shawl, with little light blue flowers on the edges.

If the situation hadn't been so dire Erik would have complimented her on her extraordinary work. But now wasn't the time for such things. Now was the time for action.

"Belle, we must leave."

Belle didn't look startled, but nodded. "I figured we'd have to sooner or later." Standing from where she had been seated she asked, "What do we need?"

"A day's provisions and the silver, nothing more," the Phantom answered quickly. "Make haste."

Without another word, Belle Delacour was out of sight, heading upstairs.

The Phantom, wasting no time, strode into the kitchen and pressed the secret knothole. When the counter slid open Erik rushed down the passageway and into his underground workroom.

He had some things settle before they departed. He began to grab all his papers and music sheets, and stuff them into a saddlebag he had brought inside with him. After he had finished, he was about to leave when he remembered the two envelops in his inner pocket. One, a bounty for a criminal, with his life history and the details of the crime he had committed, and the other. The other envelop, that held his future; and Christine's."

He slowly brought the letters out and looked at them. The Phantom put the bounty down, and opened the other carefully.

Erik's gaze shifted over the marriage certificate, making sure that every detail was perfect. And with satisfaction he replaced the document back into its paper covering.

Soon, very soon, no one would be able to take his beloved Christine from him. Soon, she would truly be his.

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Raoul remounted his white stallion. He had been successful in his tracking. The Creature owned a Cottage on the outskirts of town, somewhere in the forest.

It was only a matter of time before he was reunited with Christine. And every second away from her was precious to him. He had to find her.

"Hyaaaa!" he yelled, setting his horse into a long gallop.

"Hold on Christine! Wait for me," the Vicomte thought fiercely, as he raced through the trees that now surrounded him. "Don't give in to that Monster!"

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