They were sitting in her dressing room, having their usual cup of afternoon tea. Raoul was chatting gaily, and Christine once again found herself entranced by his smile. God, he was so handsome…and so sweet, and so caring, and so good to her. He was the kindest, most loving soul she'd ever met. He was the light of her life. Surely this could not go wrong.
Although, her heart hammering in her chest and the terribly sick feeling in her stomach told her otherwise.
"Raoul," Christine breathed, interrupting his story, which quite honestly, she hadn't even been listening to.
He stopped and looked at her, confused. "What is wrong, Christine?" he said, noticing for the first time how she trembled.
"I…there is something…" She took a deep, shuddering breath. "There is something I have to tell you."
"What's wrong?" He put down his teacup and reached across the table for her hand. The look of concern he gave her was enough to make her heart melt. It was almost silly how twisted and scrunched up his perfectly sculpted face was. Had the situation been less grave, Christine might have laughed.
"You…you won't ever leave me, will you?" Christine whimpered.
"Never," he said passionately, tightening his grip on her hand. "Not for all the world."
"No matter what?" she continued. "You must promise me. No matter what happens, you must promise me."
"I promise, Christine," he said firmly. "Why are you doubting this?"
She looked into his eyes. He was being genuine, she knew. He would never lie to her, and he loved her so, she was certain. But fear and doubt can change a man, and he could be gone by morning, sincere or not.
"Tears," he gasped, reaching across the table to wipe them away with his gentle thumbs. "Why, Christine? What has happened?"
"To the roof," she said suddenly, and she seized his hand and dragged him up to the roof of the Opera once more. The last time this had happened, they were both in much danger of that shadow that loomed over them, and Raoul feared that they were once again in danger.
Both breathless, they reached the roof and once more retreated to the statue of Apollo.
"What on Earth is this about?" Raoul panted. "Is he planning something? Need I take you away? Say the word Christine, and I will take you as far away from here as possible, and I will protect you until the ends of the Earth."
"No, no…" She shook her head. "I…" She bit her lip, forcing back more tears.
"Christine," he said gently, gripping her shoulders and rubbing them soothingly. "There is nothing you can't tell me."
"You can't leave me," she cried. "You promised."
"I would never!" He tightened his grip on her shoulders. "What is this about?"
She stared at the ground for a moment, taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves. Around them, the air had fallen still; not even the sounds of the streets of Paris below them could be heard. She looked back up and stared into his deep blue eyes, forcing herself not to break contact with them.
"I am with child," she whispered, a single tear trickling down her cheek. "Your child."
His eyes widened, and his mouth popped open slightly. Their two pairs of blue eyes stared at each other for a moment, one in disbelief and the other in petrified uncertainty.
"You…my…" he stammered. "I…oh, Christine," he moaned. "I'm so sorry…I never meant for this to happen!"
"You won't leave me?" she gasped out. "Please, do not leave me! You can't!"
"No! Oh, no, no…" He drew her into his arms and held her to him. She sobbed quietly into his chest, partly in relief, and partly still in terror. "Nothing could take me away from you. I promised you that."
His heartbeat in her ear and his gentle hands stroking her hair did wonders for her nerves. She lazily traced her fingers over his chest, trying to stop her tears.
"I love you so much, Christine, more than life itself," he said. "And this child…our child…I will love it just as much."
"Oh, Raoul!" Her tears began anew, and she fisted his shirt in her hands, desperate to be closer to him. "I don't deserve you! You are wonderful! Oh, I was so worried…The ballet girls and the chorus girls…there have been so many…and the fathers just leave them…"
"Hush now, my love," he soothed. "Everything will be alright. I will keep you and our child safe."
"I'm frightened, I'm so frightened…" she sobbed. "I am not ready…my contract with the Opera is not through, I…I'm only eighteen, Raoul…I know nothing about children…we…we are not married…"
"I will marry you," he said without hesitation. "Hang the Opera, Christine. I will run away with you this moment and marry you."
She pulled back slightly so that she may gape up at him. "Truly…? You would leave everything behind to marry me…?"
"Anything. Anything you want to do." He took her chin between his thumb and finger and gently pressed his lips to hers. He pulled away upon feeling her tears on his cheek, and he wiped them away with his thumbs.
"It's going to be alright," he said again, stroking her wet cheeks. "I promise, everything will be alright."
"What about your family?" Christine said. "They don't even want you to be engaged to me…I'm sure they would never approve of a marriage. If we did it so quickly surely they would know why…they would disown you, Raoul. I would never forgive myself…"
"Christine, I am just as much at fault as you are," he said firmly. "No matter what my family choses to say about this, always know that we are both a part of this, and it is not solely your fault. If they chose to disown me, then so be it. We can start anew. Isn't that what you wanted anyway?"
"I…I suppose…" she said. "But I never would want you to give up who you are, your title. I never would have asked that of you."
"Christine," he laughed, and she looked up at him, baffled that he could laugh at such a time. "My title is not who I am. My family does not define me. I would still be your little boy from the shore no matter how much we have or where we live."
It was Christine's turn to take his face in her hands. She sculpted over his handsome features with her soft fingertips. "I love you so much…"
Raoul smiled softly, and he suddenly dropped to the floor. He took her lily white hand in both of his and got up on one knee.
"Raoul, what on Earth?" she giggled. "We are already engaged - !"
"But it was a secret," he said. "And we did not know what was to become of it, then. Now we will officially be married, and very soon. And I want an official proposal." Christine blushed wildly, not able to suppress the silly grin that plastered itself on her face. "Will you, Christine Daaé, run away with me, and marry me?"
Christine giggled like a little schoolgirl. "Yes," she said breathlessly. "I will run away with you, and I will marry you."
He suddenly stood up and seized her around the waist with both of his arms. He swung her around, laughing out loud, and she giggled madly.
"Raoul!" she scolded. "Do be careful! The baby!"
"Oh!" He immediately stopped and gently placed her back on the ground. They both desperately gripped each other, swaying with dizziness and laughing at their own foolishness. Once they were steady, Christine threw her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately, nearly knocking him over as she did so. They both laughed into the kiss, and they were beaming at each other when they pulled apart.
"Where will we go?" Christine asked.
"Anywhere," Raoul answered. "England? Italy? Sweden?"
"Perros," Christine said, her eyes lighting up. "Imagine, Raoul: You and I, raising our child on the shore. We will teach it to love the sea as we did. We will be married in the little village church, the church where I sat with Papa every Sunday…Oh, just imagine!"
"Then we will go to Perros," Raoul said. "Oh, Christine! We have our whole lives ahead of us!"
Christine laughed out loud and kissed him again. "I love you…"
"I love you."
"Oh, I cannot run away without telling Madame," Christine said sadly. "She will be worried sick. I only hope that she will not be ashamed of me…"
"Madame loves you like a daughter," Raoul assured. "She may not be pleased, but her love will stay the same, and the same goes for Meg, who loves you as a sister."
"I do hope you're right," Christine said.
"I suppose I should at least attempt to speak to my brother about this," Raoul said. "He will be ashamed…"
"We must be strong together," Christine said, firmly grasping his hands. "No matter what happens, we will find our way back to each other. No matter what the world has to say, we will come back together and live our lives together…as a…a family."
Raoul's eyes twinkled strangely, in a way Christine had never seen before. He released his grip on her hands and wrapped one arm around the small of her back as he gently placed his other hand on her stomach, kneeling down so he was eye level with it.
"There…there is life in there," he marveled. "This is our child…"
"Yes…" she breathed, tears welling up in her eyes again. "This is our family."
Raoul looked up at her, and she was taken aback by the tears that lingered in his eyes. "Oh, Christine…"
She bent down and kissed him again. He stood up to his full height once more. "You will speak with Philippe, and I will speak with Madame and Meg. Come back to my dressing room and have a carriage waiting for our departure with everything we need. I will pack whatever I need while I wait for you."
"Yes…yes." He kissed her again. "I love you."
"And I love you, my soon-to-be husband." Her heart fluttered at the sound of the word on her lips. "Until tonight."
They parted ways and Christine made her way to the ballet dressing room, praying to find Meg there. She approached the door trembling with anxiety, knocking on the door with her shaking hand. Sorelli opened the door and rolled her eyes.
"Meg! Someone is here to see you!" she called behind her.
The little blonde bounded to the door and smiled. "Hello, Christine!"
"Where is your mother?" Christine said.
"She's in a meeting with the managers," Meg said uneasily, sensing the urgency in Christine's voice. "Is something wrong?"
Christine pulled Meg out of the doorway, and Sorelli was all too glad to shut the door behind them.
"Christine what on Earth is this about?" Meg said, baffled.
"You must take me to your mother," Christine said. "There is something both of you must know."
"Well…we can wait outside the managers' office," Meg offered. "But I am not sure how much longer it will be…Something is wrong," she said. "You're trembling, Christine…"
"I…I am afraid to tell your mother," Christine said, tears welling up in her eyes. "She will be ashamed of me."
Meg looked at her with confusion, and then suddenly gasped. "Are you…are you in trouble, Christine?"
Christine bit her lip and nodded, her tears overflowing. "I've brought shame to your mother, I know it…"
"Hush now," Meg said gently, pulling her friend into an embrace. "I know my mother. She will do everything in her power to help you. She will not cast you away, I swear it." Christine cried quietly, suddenly wishing that she'd just run away with Raoul without even coming back to the Opera. It would have been so much easier…
"Oh, Christine…I didn't even know that you were…that you both…oh…" Meg sighed sadly. "Does Raoul know?" she asked. "You are planning on telling him, aren't you?"
"Yes, yes…" Christine sniffled. "He knows."
"He isn't leaving is he?" Meg asked, terrified of the answer.
"He is not that kind of man," Christine said confidently, her heart warming at the thought of her gentle, caring fiancé. "No, he is not leaving, but we are leaving."
"What do you mean?" Meg asked, pulling out of their embrace.
"That is what I need to speak to your mother about - "
"What is it you need to speak to me about, Miss Daaé?"
Christine and Meg both nearly jumped our of their skin, and they whirled around to see Madame Giry standing there.
"Mother," Meg sighed with relief. "We were just about to go and find you."
"What is it, child?" Madame said, suddenly concerned, noticing the tracks of tears on Christine's cheeks.
"I must speak to both of you," Christine said. "Come; we must leave the Opera."
They gathered themselves and left the Opera. They walked across the street to a small cafe and Christine found them a corner where no one was sitting. She'd been to this cafe many a time with Raoul, and she knew very well that no one ever came to that spot. She and Raoul had never been found kissing there, and Christine allowed a tiny smile along with a little blush as she remembered the last time they were here. She then looked at the two women standing before her and remembered why she'd brought them there, and reminded herself what she must do now. She gestured for them to sit, and they sat beside each other and Christine sat across the table. She took an enormous breath.
"I…something has…happened," Christine began, unable to look at Madame and fixing her gaze on the cracks in the floor instead. "Raoul and I…we have not been…" She bit her lip again in shame, angrily twisting her skirt in her hands. "We have not been careful." A tear dropped into her lap. "I am with child."
Madame Giry's eyes widened slightly. There were plenty of things that she'd been expecting, and that was most certainly not one of them. Meg nervously looked back and forth between her friend and her mother.
"I know I have brought you shame," Christine said, her voice breaking. "I know I ought to be ashamed of myself. I've sinned and now I am paying for it. I am so sorry…" she sobbed.
"Raoul knows?" Madame asked calmly. Christine nodded silently. "And what of your career? You'll be showing for months by the time your contract is up."
"I…I know…" Christine stammered. "I…I'm running away with Raoul," she said, looking up at Madame for the first time since she'd sat down. "We are going to Perros. We will be married and raise our child far away from Paris."
"You would leave everything behind?" Madame asked coolly.
"What other choice do I have?" Christine said. "I will not…I won't get…rid of it. I am sick even thinking of it. This child is my flesh and my blood and I intend to raise it as such, with its father right beside me. I…I love him, Madame, and he loves me. We were bound to be wed eventually…now it is just…a bit sooner than we had anticipated."
"You realize, child, that you will never be welcome back here again," Madame said, and Christine felt as though someone had kicked her in the throat.
"Mother," Meg said harshly, in disbelief of what she was hearing.
"Hold your tongue, Meg. I do not mean by me," she clarified, and Christine exhaled the breath she had sucked in. "I mean by the managers. You will be unable to renew a contract that you've broken, and they certainly won't write you a new one. By the time you're able to work again they will have found someone new. You won't ever sing again, Christine."
Christine bit back more tears and breathed deeply. "I know," she said shakily. "I know I've ruined my career and my future. But I cannot do anything else. I fully intend on taking responsibility for my carelessness. Perhaps someday some other Opera will take me. But I…I cannot think that far. Right now I must get away as soon as I can. It…it will start showing very soon, and I cannot take any chances. It…it already has I think. I feel…different." There was a long silence, in which mother figure and daughter figure stared at each other. "I…I'm sorry, Madame." Christine hung her head in shame.
There was the sound of Madame leaving her seat and taking a few steps, and Christine was sure she was leaving without saying a word, too ashamed to even look at her anymore.
"Christine," came Madame's voice. Christine was surprised to see her standing before her upon picking up her head. "Stand up, Christine."
Christine obeyed, trembling like a leaf. Against the expectation of everyone present, Madame gently took the trembling girl into her arms. Christine stiffened, entirely unsure of what to do. After a moment, though, she gratefully returned the embrace, a sob escaping her lips. In that embrace, Christine knew that she would not be alienated, that Madame would still love her just as fiercely as she had all along.
"You already know that you've made a mistake," Madame said, stroking the girl's hair. "The last thing you need to hear is me tell you that, and berate you for it."
"Thank you, Madame," Christine cried. "Thank you…"
"Hush, child," Madame said. "When are you leaving?"
"Tonight, when Raoul comes for me," Christine said. "I…I will forever be grateful for everything you've done for me. I will not ever forget you, Madame. I've truly come to think of you as my mother."
"And do you truly think that a mother would let her daughter walk out of her life forever?" Madame said. "You can not get away from us this easily, Miss Daaé. We will be visiting as much as we can."
"Oh, yes, please…" Christine tightened her arms around her. "We would appreciate your company so very much…"
"Let me tell you this: I was not ready for my child either. It was a most terrifying time for me and my husband. But I can say with great confidence that she has been my greatest joy." She met Meg's eye, who smiled brightly. "And as have you."
Christine could not find the words to express how much those words meant to her, so she simply tightened the embrace again and blinked back a fresh set of tears.
They remained silent in their embrace for a moment before Madame gently pulled away, resting her hands on Christine's shoulders. "Does he know?" She asked suddenly.
"Yes…I…I told him. We are leaving tonight…"
"No, child," Madame said urgently. "Him."
Christine's blood ran cold, and her body went stiff. She rigidly shook her head.
"Then he must not," Madame said. "Worry not. I will keep him distracted long enough for you to pack your things and get away. How long will you need?"
"An…an hour…?" she stammered, her head now swimming.
"It will go faster if I help," Meg offered. "We'll be done in no time, Christine. I promise."
She nodded once, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to stop trembling. She would pull this off. Madame would keep her safe until she must leave, and then she would leave behind the Opera, Erik, forever. Oh, Erik will be absolutely heartbroken…
"This will kill him, Madame," Christine said suddenly with dreaded realization. "I will break his poor heart…"
"Enough of that," Madame said. "Your safety and that of your child is more important than his fragile and dangerous heart." Madame began ushering her girls out of the cafe. "And believe me when I say this," she stopped walking and looked Christine straight in the eye. "All pity will be gone if he finds out. You will feel nothing for him but sheer terror. I promise you that." Christine stared at her with wide eyes for a moment. Her heart screamed that her dear Angel would never hurt her…and yet he'd kidnapped her and thrown her about, who was to say he wouldn't do it again? And surely betraying his heart and his trust would be worse than removing his mask…
"Do you understand?"
"Yes," Christine said firmly. "Yes; I must leave him."
And to her surprise, she had never been so sure of anything in her life.
The three women made their way back to the Opera and Madame Giry went off to find Erik. Meg and Christine frantically packed all of Christine's clothing in their dormitory, and they then hurried into her dressing room. Christine lovingly tucked away the photograph of her father, and suddenly there was a familiar clicking noise.
The two girls whirled around to see the mirror slide open, and terror seized both of their hearts. That figure that they both dreaded so stalked toward them, and they both knew not what he wanted. It all happened so quickly that no one could stop it from happening. There was a flash of white, Meg's scream, and a little body dropping to the floor.
"Meg!" she cried out. "What have you done - ?"
"Keep quiet, dear, or you'll be next," he snarled. He dangled the white cloth before her eyes, and the hideous scent of chloroform wafted to her nose, making her head spin and her stomach churn.
"Erik, why are you doing this —?"
She was cut off by his abrupt seizing of her wrist. She cried out in shock as he began dragging her to the mirror. She threw a terrified glance back at her friend who lay sprawled across her dressing room floor. The mirror slid shut behind them, and she was immediately encased in damp, echoing darkness.
Yikes! We all know that is not going to end well...
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