My first English fiction. It's a one shot. Constructive criticism will be very much appreciated. No flames please, it won't help me at all. I wrote this after a long time thinking about the R/C pairing and it's mostly about Christine thoughts while leaving Paris. Mainly Leroux based. I don't own PotO nor Wicked. Enjoy! And please, if you have the time, review.

Good Night,

Yours always,

Dame en Noir.

"Happily Ever After"

(Based upon "Thank Goodness", from "Wicked")

She couldn't be happier. Everything was perfect in her life now that the ghosts from the past had been buried. Everything had come to an end now: the bizarre adventure, the tragedy, and the anguishes. She had gone through her own fairy tale, her prince charming had defeated the villain, and now they were going to get marry and have their own happy ending. And what a happy ending! They were going away in a white carriage, to the northern lands of Europe, never to go back to the nightmare. They were going to settle in some little town, where no one would know them. Surely her rich husband was going to buy a château, and there they'd live happily ever after. She would have his children, she would raise them, she would be the perfect housewife, and would make their life together perfect.

Oh, yes! She couldn't be happier! Her worries and fears had ended in the moment the horses had trotted out of Paris. Her husband to be was holding her hand, always gentle, always kind, and always safe. She felt safety all around her, wrapping her like a shawl. She wouldn't have to worry about anything, her fiancé had told her. He would provide her with all she could need. She wouldn't have to work anymore. She wouldn't have to sing anymore. Well, it wasn't like he was taking her away from the stage . . . (he didn't enthuse her to sing either) . . . but, no, it wasn't his fault. It was hers, there was that feeling of . . . void . . . No! She was too happy to feel void! This feeling of . . . emptiness. . . No! That either! It was rather a lack of any feeling. Anytime she had tried to sing she had felt like there was something amiss inside her, something broken that made her feel like crying. And she could not stand it, because she knew that the missing part of her heart was never coming back to her. . . It didn't matter of course! The happiness she felt with her childhood sweetheart made up for everything! . . . Even for all the unfixable parts of her heart and all the lost piece of her soul. . .

She couldn't be happier! And she confirmed it with a sigh . . . a broken sigh . . . when once again he gently squeezed her small hand in his fair ones:

"The nightmare is over now, darling. . . You are safe from that monster. We are going to be so happy, my dearest! "

She smiled, and kissed him chastely. She couldn't be happier! She loved him so much! She can feel that sweet, kind, soft, soothing love of theirs flowing between them. A comforting, tender love. . . She loved him so much! So passionately . . . well, not passionately . . . no, her love for him was the tender kind of love. It was certain that it didn't give her a thrill when she though of him, but oh, well! Why her mind wandered to such thoughts! She loved him properly, and that was enough . . . wasn't it?

She couldn't be happier! And yet, as she watched the night through the window of the carriage, she remembered other nights watched through the window of a brougham, in the Bois de Boulogne, and it made her heart shiver with an aching sensation, and she can nearly feel her soul wanting to reach out for someone who was no longer there. There were moments that, although she was so happy, she was seized by despair, and she wanted to free her darker feelings, those feeling that compelled her to run back to Paris, to save whatever was left of that man that loved her desperately, with an immense and tragic love. In those moments she was caught by the hopelessness, the desperation of knowing that, with every passing minute, she was farther away from him, he was nearer to Death.

Oh, what a silly girl she was! Why was she thinking of those things that she did better to forget? Those things were better buried in the darkest corner of her heart, as well as her true love soon would be buried in the darkest corner of the Opera's cellars. She shook her head and unknowingly grasped the plain gold ring that still remained on her left hand. 'No! No! He's not going to die! He's not going to die!' She swallowed a sob, so her partner who was now sleeping wouldn't notice she was crying. He looked so sweet when he was sleeping. He was such a nice young man!

That was exactly why she couldn't be happier! Her fiancé was perfect, and their life together was going to be perfect! This pain she felt now was just . . . well . . . what word to use? . . .the delusions of an over romantic heart, yes. . .just like the Angel of Music. . .And, in time she knew. . .well, she hoped. . .that pain will fade and she will be able to forget and enjoy the wonderful life that was in store for her; a wonderful life full . . . full . . . full of what? Of true love? Of music? No. . . . But, love and music wasn't everything in her life . . . was it?

She would have a life full of wealth and children. . . She would have a handsome, young, loving husband who would always be ready to provide all she might need. A husband that was the dream of every girl, a prince charming who has rescued her and now was taking her away from the horrors of the Paris Opera House . . . but, did she want to leave?

Oh, why to question those things? All her dreams had come true . . . and she couldn't be happier . . . Although, yes, it was certain, she had had to pay a price . . . a bit too high, perhaps. She had lost a couple of things in the process. . . But she was now past the point of no return, and she knew she had realized it a bit too late. . .Too late. . .But, she couldn't be happier, because happy is what happens when all your dreams come true. . .well. . .isn't it?

The soon to be Vicomtess de Chagny burst into heart wrenching sobs, trembling uncontrollably. Her fiancé held her, whispering soothing words to her:

'Christine, dear, you are safe! He's gone, he's gone forever!'

She looked up at him, with a sad look and echoed meaningless:

'Yes Raoul . . . he is gone . . . he is gone . . . forever' she let out another sob, and finally was able to collect herself. Raoul was staring at her with a worried look, so, she managed to paste a fake smile over her pale lips and reassured him:

' I'm fine, Raoul, darling. . .It's just. . .I. . .I. . .I couldn't be happier!'