A Visit from an Angel- a POTO story
Synopsis: The story of how the Angel of Music first met his protege.
Pairings: Some mild Erik/Christine
Rating: All ages
Little Lotte let her mind wander. Little Lotte thought, Am I fonder of dolls or of goblins or of shoes, or of riddles of frocks, those picnics in the attic, or of chocolates, Father playing the violin, as we read to each other dark stories of the North?
No, what I love best, Lotte said, is when I'm asleep in my bed, and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head, the Angel of Music sings songs in my head….
Christine smiled as she remembered those fond memories. Her father had always called her Little Lotte, as did Raoul. Raoul was alive, but her father….. Her father was in a better place.
When I'm in Heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to you.
She remembered her father's words as clearly as the day he had spoken them. She missed him dearly. But at least he was in…..
Wait.
Christine felt a cool breeze caress her cheek, blowing her hair back slightly. The candles on her desk had mysteriously blown out.
What…. Could this be?
And with that, a voice spoke from the sudden darkness. No, it wasn't speaking, it was singing. A slightly raspy yet dulcet tenor echoing around the room and in Christine's bones.
"I am your angel of music, I'm here, your angel of music."
Her father had been right- the Angel of Music was here. The voice seemed to wrap around her like a warm blanket.
"You've come…"
"You are correct, dear child. I am the Angel of Music, sent by your father to teach you in the ways of music." The voice was soft, yet Christine could hear it from everywhere. "What is your name?"
"Ch-Christine," she managed out. "Christine Daaé."
"Chris-tiiiiiine…." the voice sighed, like the faintest whisper of a breeze tickling the back of her neck.. "What a lovely name for an equally lovely woman..."
"Will you teach me everything you know about music?" Christine asked. "You are my master and I am your student. I will obey your every command. Teach me, oh Angel."
"Anything for you, Christine. Anything for you."
There was a sudden burst of light, the candles had relit themselves. There was a knock at the door, and soon after, Meg Giry stepped through the entrance.
"Christine, you were talking to someone. Who was it?"
Christine closed her eyes, and the faintest hint of a delicate, blissful smile curled across her lips.
"I have been visited by an angel…."
No, what I love best, Lotte said, is when I'm asleep in my bed, and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head, the Angel of Music sings songs in my head….