Disclaimer: Unfortunately I do not own any of Phantom of the Opera it all belongs to Gaston Leroux, Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber and Joel Schumacher. Oh and Learn to Be Lonely, belongs to Mr Webber and Sony Classical and Minnie Driver who sang it. I am not making any money, just happy people I hope.

Love you ALL! And Erik too

A/N: Well here we all are again. Another PotO. We all lover them. Well this is set a couple of months after the Movie. This fic is mostly based on the movie with maybe the odd bit of Leroux because she knows him as Erik and not just "Phantom" or "Angel". And after all… Erik is just so much more pleasing to type…

Of Thorns and Roses

Prologue

Christine walked through the many vast hallways of her friends' home. The House was lavishly decorated and had many ornaments and mirrors covering the walls and worktops. There was nothing bland or boring and everything seemed to have a vibrant life about it, reflecting the personality of her hosts.

She had been invited to a large party, to celebrate the birthday of her host's husband, Monsieur Flarier. She had arrived early and was to stay over in their house for a few weeks, as she was a good friend with Monsieur Flarier's wife, Monica Flarier.

They had met one day when Christine's husband, Raoul invited Monsieur Flarier over or Robert as his first name was, over for dinner to discuss some boring matters unknown to Christine.

She wandered idly through the vast hallways, determined not to let one piece of information escape her gaze. It truly was a beautiful house.

Somehow even though the mansion was vast and almost cavernous, she was not cold, and she wondered how the servants managed to keep such a large environment warm.

She walked on losing herself in the huge halls and not really minding. No matter what corridor she turned into on whatever side of the house there was always someone there. A butler pacing the rooms or a maid idly mopping or dusting.

She knew that she had no reason to rush back to the main entrance hall or the large dining room where her beloved Raoul sat even now, discussing boring matters of state with Monsieur Flarier. If Monica had been there she probably would have been spending this free time with her, but unfortunately she was away on business at the moment on the far side of France.

So now, after being told to make herself at home by her humble host and wishing him a very happy birthday, she had gotten permission to explore until her heart was content, and she was.

Aimlessly wandering through hallways was exactly what Christine need at the moment. She was tried from all the travelling that it took to get here, and yet she had the need to stretch her legs after being in a carriage for most of the day. It also helped that she had some time on her own. She loved Raoul very much but even married couples needed space and time alone.

She was proud of herself that over the last few months she had been able to banish all thoughts of the vents at the Opera Populaire from her mind. During the odd time that she spoke of it, even if it just in passing, he went rigid and made short replies. One word if he could manage it, this signalled to her to stop talking and either leave the room or change the subject. She normally did the latter as running away from an angry husband would not be a good step for the marriage.

He would have to get over it sometime. They couldn't live their lives constantly never mentioning things about their past. What about when their children asked how they met. Which she was sure they would ask. They would have to mention the Opera Populaire sometimes. They needed to discuss it and relieve the tension that had been building up over the issue. Christine decided that it was critical to their marriage and also their relationship as friends, which held the basis of love together after all.

However she had made this decision also in passing since she did not allow her mind to dwell on it long incase she decided that she had made the wrong decision. She had come to that conclusion sub-consciously indicating, that there was a situation of a wrong decision in there somewhere…

Her mind began to wander as she walked through the house. Over recent matters, and long past matters. She thought about Raoul and how well their marriage was going. They hadn't seemed to stop rushing about since they had said their vows.

She had been married about four months to him now and she was finding that he had changed from what she had known when she was Little Lotte. He had also changed from the man that she knew at the Opera Populaire, but not in a bad way, just changed from what she knew.

After her mind had skipped over the words, 'Opera Populaire', her thought immediately turned to the huge landing that she had now reached.

There was a long flight of stairs that went down with a delicate step, permitting for a lady in a long dress, and the banisters that flowed down smoothly beside it were dark oak and went well with the dark blue tone of the carpet. She knew somehow that her friend, Monica, had decorated the house. At the bottom of the flight of steps was another tall doorway that was intricately carved and one of the most beautiful things that her eyes had ever had the grace of seeing.

From the bottom of the stairs, many rooms led off to the side and there was a pathway of carpet leading up to each of the double doors. Neither of her new friends were hard-done-by, that was for sure.

But what was the most amazing thing in the whole new hall that she had discovered, deep in the bellies of the house, was the huge glittering chandelier that was raised high above the ground from an almost invisible chain from the roof. It looked so like reminiscent of the chandelier at the Opera Populaire that it stirred her memory and brought events that she didn't want to return back into her mind.

She felt her legs begin to shake at the thought of a chandelier and saw black spots appearing at the corners of her eyes. She grabbed the table that stood beside her for support and so that she could catch her breath.

When she caught the eye of a butler, her run over and gently rested his gloved hand on her arm. He leaned close to her but not too close that he invaded her personal space.

"Are you all right, Vicomtess?" asked the Butler, certain urgency in his voice.

"Yes monsieur, thank you for your concern. Just a bit of a light head, merci," she said waving his concern away with a flick of her hand. She straightened up and placed her hand on his outstretched arm just to steady herself.

"Would you like to return to your room, Madame?" he asked in a gentle tone. Christine could almost tell the character of this man immediately by the sound of his voice and his obvious kind nature.

"Oui, monsieur. I think that would be appropriate, merci," she said in her heavy French accent, making her sound like she had been in France all her life and born there instead of Sweden. She could not remember most of her home-tongue apart from the odd simple phrase, which she greatly regretted.

"Si vous plait, monsieur, comment t'appelle tu?" she asked being carefully escorted by the Butler back to her room. She assumed that all the staff of the household had been informed of her arrival and her room.

"Oui!" He said with a soft chuckle that made her feel like her Dad was alive again, "Je'mappelle Monsieur Liddel. Anglais," he said with quite a bit of an English accent she noticed now that he mentioned it.

"Monsieur! Would you be so kind to teach me some Basic English? I feel that since it is such a common language that I should make and effort to try to learn some of the basics" she said, slightly slower than she would have normally, taking into account that French wasn't his first language.

"Oui, Madame," he said with that soft chuckle again. She knew that she shouldn't be so familiar with a servant but she couldn't help feeling like she had met this man before.

He led her confidently through many turns and hallways as they chatted idly like old friends reunited at last. She saw that he had grey hair that was tidily swept back into a pony tail, and he wore the customary clothes for a Butler in a grand house like this. He had a kind face with soft features that offered a Welcoming smile. He seemed to know his way around the House extremely well so she expected that he had been serving here for a long time.

Before she knew it she found that she was back outside the brown oak door of her room. She turned with a kind smile on her face to the Butler who had been so kind and polite to her.

"Thank you, monsieur. I am sure that you have better things to do with your time than escort a dizzy lady back to her room again. I appreciate you kindness," she said with her hand resting on the brass doorknob that would release her into her sanctuary for the next week or two.

"Please Vicomtess, do not thank me it was my pleasure. Do you know where you are and how to make your way down to the dining hall?" he asked making a gesture in the direction of the entrance hall down the corridor in relation to her room.

"Yes, monsieur, I thank you again for your kindness," he bowed and walked on down the corridor returning to whatever duty that he had been performing before.

She smiled at his back and then turned the brass handle to her and Raoul's room.

It was as lushly decorated as the rest of the house, but tastefully so. There was a large four-poster bed with a blue curtain tied back with white ties from the bed. The bed linen matched the curtains, and the ones covering the window where the same. There was a bathroom in a door off to the left with facilities for a warm bath, which at the moment seemed like heaven to her after a day of travelling.

She walked over to the bed and flopped down on it in a very unladylike way. She closed her eyes and pretended that she was one of the ballet rats again. She thought of this often and most of the time managed to keep the rest of the affairs that she tied to the Opera Populaire out of her head. She wondered how long Raoul would be and how much time she had before the party. Most of these affairs were boring and it briefly flitted across her mind about what she was planning to do this time to amuse herself.

Nothing immediately came to her, as she knew that reading a book would be entirely out of the question and she didn't want to appear rude. Raoul had done a lot for her over the past months and she did not want to let him down and seem spoilt in front of his friends and colleagues.

She wondered if the orchestra would be in any way good because she knew that it would be an affair of dinner with a dance afterwards. These gatherings of the politicians and important men of France and their spouses normally lasted a painfully long time. At least she would have the music to occupy herself.

Even after all these years she still loved music and she still sang. Sometimes when she was feeling lonely or those blissful moments where she had nothing to do, she would go up to the back room of the house with the piano in it.

For some reason she always found herself sitting down and singing the same song. It was a simple melody to play on the piano, which meant she didn't need anyone, and she could sing it easily without needing to make any great effort. As much as she hated to admit it, she loved it and it had been one of the songs that Erik had taught her at the very beginning of their lessons together. Now that she thought back at all that had happened it had been very apt for both of them at the time. She longed to find a piano now and melt into the music.

Raoul still allowed her to sing of course. That was something that he knew he could never get out of her, but he still did not allow her to do anything that reminded them of their times with Erik. Things like Music of the Night, which she knew that she could do if she really made an effort to remember.

Every so often at a dinner party, people would graciously ask if she would sing for them. It was useless trying to hide Christine's past from the world. Everyone recognised her or had heard of the name Christine taking over in the Opera House, and they all knew she was the right age and people like that tended to pry.

She would sing many songs. Songs that she had learned recently or songs that her father had taught her before he died. But never in public did she sing this one. Gently she sang the melodies to herself as she lay on the bed in that room.

Child of the Wilderness,

Born into emptiness,

Learn to be Lonely,

Learn to find your way in darkness.

Who will be there for you,

Come through and care for you,

Learn to be Lonely,

Learn to be your one companion.

Ever dreamed out in the World,

There are arms to hold you,

You've always known,

You're heart was on it's own.

So laugh in your loneliness,

Child of the Wilderness,

Learn to be Lonely,

Learn how to love, Life that is lived alone

Life can be lived,

Life can be loved, alone.

Even singing this quietly to herself brought back the decidedly saddening thought that she was badly in need of a tutor. Although to the untrained ear of Raoul and his guests at parties she sang like an Angel, Erik's sharp voice came into her head, that she was slightly off beat or of key. She could hear the strained almost inaudible vibration of her voice as she sang now that she had never had for years during Erik's training. She also noticed that after she held notes for a while she could hear a waver indicating she wasn't putting enough power into, or she wasn't singing the cord right. It infuriated her that she had had so much effect on her and that she had betrayed him.

No. She wasn't going to think like that. Unfaithful thoughts like that led to nothing but disaster and heartbreak for all.

She had already hurt one man she loved was she going to hurt Raoul as well…

Wait… Did she really just think that? Did she say loved?

A/N: So what did you think. This is only the Prologue so don't slay me for it being so short. I'm sorry. And the story might be developing too quickly sorry about that. If there is anything that you think I should change just tell me and I will appreciate your comment. Come on…

The review button is calling you… You know you want to push it… You know you want to… go on please? My Erik Muse will give you a big hug!

PLEASE REVIEW!