Disclaimer: Don't own Phantom. Drat.
Notes: A story I thought I had lost a long time ago. This was written for a fellow author Singing Moon. It was shown to her but never uploaded here, but now the world can enjoy it!
King of All You See
XXX
Rain misted in the air, humid and causing a subtle fog in the early morning light. The sun had only just begun to rise over Paris, small rays fighting to streak across the sky and cast awkward shadows over the ground.
The Opera Gariner was held within a darkness shaded by large trees from the start of the day and its light.
Upon the roof stood a dark shadow of a man, a fedora pulled low over his face to hide the glint of a white porcelain mask. His cloak swirled in the early morning breeze, the air chilly, although he didn't seem to notice.
Drawing the fabric tighter around his shoulders, the Opera Ghost looked down on Paris like a God over His Earth, watching as the city awoke. The flower carts opened, dew flying through the air that had collected on the sheets during the night. The shop signs began to turn, the moist air filled with the alluring scents that drifted from the baker down the street. The church bells rang powerfully, the sound reverberating off of large buildings of stone as men, women and children alike flocked to mass.
And yet the Phantom watched as if apart from mankind, no longer human at all.
Children yelled and ran down the streets, oblivious to the scolding of adults all around as they threw balls, stones, anything light enough to be lifted.
Movement behind the being on the roof caused him to turn majestically, cloak whipping as he stood and looked to the newcomer.
"Erik... I thought I might find you up here." Came the small voice of the gentle woman who hugged her velvet cloak tightly about her shoulders.
He only smiled, not speaking, and he looked back down to the streets below.
Christine Daae, former chorus singer and ballet dancer, now the Prima Dona of the Opera frowned, walking to the dark man's side and putting a gentle hand on his arm. Together they looked down at the world, and as time slowly ticked by, Erik's arm slid around her shoulders, holding her within his cloak.
"Up here," he began, still not looking at the woman, "one can feel divine, almost as if they could forget every injustice the world has ever served them."
Glancing down at the brunette beside him, he caught her gaze and his eyes twinkled just a little.
"Up here, I am the King, and all I see I can call my own."
"And me? What am I?"
He smiled out across the sky as the sun's rays finally filtered over the roof of the Opera, bathing the two lovers in a light glow.
"You, my dear... you are the queen."
Christine smiled up at her husband, leaning against him and looking down at the people below.
"Happy birthday, Erik."
FIN