Title: The black rosebud

Personal Category: Phantom of the Opera ( proper endings )

M rating for later chapters.

Based primarily off of ALW's Phantom of the Opera, with some Kay elements.

Note: This story takes place 4 years post 'Christine incident'. Flashbacks will explain the story of how Jaquelin and Erik met and became a couple through flashbacks in later chapters.

Contains extreme Christine x Raoul bashing!

~ My very first Fanfic. 3 ~

"Let my Opera Begin!" - Erik


" It will feel like an eternity."

" For me as well, Erik..."

She placed a single, satin gloved hand against his chest, sheathed in a dark-coloured vest.

" It will make our reunion all the sweeter...Think of me, think of me fondly-"

" When we've said goodbye..." Erik finished quietly, twisting her hand gently towards his face and holding it against the smooth skin of the left side. Jaquelin stretched up onto her toes, to place a last, lingering kiss upon his lips, then she turned suddenly away before he could even lean into her.

She was gone.

Erik gritted his teeth and looked at the cold stone floor, clutching his head with both hands. How was he going to survive without his Jaquelin? Turning from the edge of the lake, from which she had disappeared so suddenly, he returned to the house, not slamming the door, but leaving it open. He wandered throughout the house, seeing upon the walls the many pieces of art dedicated to the both of them. One she had drawn of him, sitting at his organ, his white shirt open and careless. Another, one of her, stretched out across the swan bed; stomach bare and dress pooled at her chest, her lower legs covered with the velvet sheets. Then, at the end of the hall, partially hidden behind a vase of dried red roses, a faint sketch of Jaquelin's left hand covering the ruined, grotesque side of his face. He grimaced when he saw that picture, and passed on, self consciously rubbing the white porcelain mask that covered the hideously deformed side of his face. Jaquelin had never found his deformity off-putting...not even once. It baffled him. She must have been insane...but he didn't mind. They could be crazy together. He reached his bedroom door- their, bedroom door, and stopped. He couldn't face it.

Jaquelin had shared his bed, knowing the consequences of such a choice. Now they were separated, for so many long years! Erik moaned with despair and leaned against the dark wall, sliding down to sit with a thump at the base. He sobbed, leaning his face into his knee. No...it was too much to bear!


Madame Giry cringed when she heard, once again, the sorrowful notes of the organ, pouring faintly into her bedroom from so far down...Erik was in one of his fits again. It had been a year since her daughter meg had left the Opera house with Lady Jaquelin, to help her with the coming child. It had been decided among both herself, Erik, Meg, and of course Jaquelin, to wait until the child was no longer an infant to bring it back to the Opera house to live in the caverns far below the ground. The Phantom had not taken it well at all. Once again, he raged with loneliness; Madame Giry knew what a joy Jaquelin had been to him. Perhaps the only woman to ever gaze upon his deformity with love, not disgust. The ballet instructor sighed and turned over in her bed, trying once again to be claimed by sleep.


It cut her so deeply.

To leave her love, her Erik...her dark angel behind whilst she journeyed to the countryside to raise her baby into a youngling before the man in the mask even knew the gender of the little one...

Jaquelin stroked her belly, which had not yet become rotund. She had discontinued the use of her corset already though. She did not want any stress. The carriage rocked violently, and she almost gagged. Meg took her hand and leaned her other against the woman's cheek. Jaquelin smiled at the slightly younger woman who had agreed to journey with her. Meg had been a friend to both her and Erik since the days of Christine Daae. The name turned her insides sour even if she only thought of it. Who could resist the irresistible? To elope with some rich vicomte? Ugh... She turned to the window of the ornate black Opera house carriage with a sneer.

" Christine Daae...ha!" She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Meg did not like to hear her criticize Christine...but Jaquelin couldn't help it. Even if the former soprano singer had led her to the love of her life...it had been at great expense to him. He had wallowed for years in pain, before she herself had arrived, a curious girl who knew nothing of the world. Jaquelin touched the black mask that hid the top half of her face. It had been the mask that she had found the first day at the Opera Populaire...the same one that her Erik had worn during that first performance of Don Juan Triumphant. Jaquelin smiled reassuringly at meg, who smiled and resumed her sewing. She was embroidering tiny leaves onto the corner of a cloth diaper. Jaquelin smiled, knowing that at least her baby would be in the very best of hands. Erik had insisted that the child of the Phantom of the Opera, would have all the best of everything. The most high tech of diapers...the softest blankets...even one of the best nurses. The nurse was riding with the coachman, as the very spacious carriage was already filled with things that would be needed to accommodate the child. There was a simple black carriage following behind with more gear. Every one in the procession was sworn to absolute secrecy by pain of death, courtesy of the Opera ghost. Oh how Jaquelin adored her love. The carriage gave another lurch and Jaquelin smiled and laughed a little, a curl escaping from the simple up-do it was held in. Madame Giry had told her that she possessed the kind of beauty that no birth or strife could ever abolish. The thing that worried both Jaquelin and Erik was...

Would it be the same for their child?


Please r & r!