A/N: This fic came from a video idea I made doing a cross between Steerpike from Gormenghast and Christine Daae from Phantom of the Opera. So this fic is kind of based around that vid, but it's just kind of me experimenting with these fandoms and putting them together.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from either fandom. This is merely for fun and entertaining purposes.

The Loss of My Beloved

A Steerpike/Christine Story

The year could not have been more precise. It was 1870. It was the age of the Paris Opera and every patron in the French city had come to pay their pennies to see one of the most brilliant of actresses. Well, to be fair, she should have been the main actress, however, the old toad Carlotta had taken her place for whatever reason. Nevertheless, she was more of a brilliant actress than that other rubbish any day. And she will one day be mine.

I made sure the preparations for tonight were perfect. Miss Daae will perform as planned by those dirt bag managers as a servant whose voice would soothe a weeping babe. Then, after the performance, she will return to her dressing room and there she will be kept until I have talked to her about her vile behavior with that man who came to see her. I cannot stand him. I was sure she would say no, but he insisted that she stay with him. The sight of them made me want to go to the doctor's apothecary right away and slip him a special antidote to ease his beating heart. Or cease it.

I watched from the wings as the actors and dancers performed. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the man who had come to seek Christine's hand. I had seen him once or twice and did not bother to find out who he was. I had no intention of getting to know him on a friendly basis. Far from it. I planned to kill him if he intended to steal my Christine away from me.

The performance ended and I heard the cheers from the audience. They were never of any assistance to me at all. If I hadn't been in a hurry to see Christine, I would have brought the chandelier down on all of their heads. Then they would know who the real owner of the Opera was.

I crept through the walls, finding the place viler than the last time I had entered the narrow caverns in order to reach Miss Daae's room. Upon reaching the mirror, I glanced inside her dressing room to find her just arriving. I couldn't help having the most impeccable timing anywhere. Madame Giry whom I respected and who I would never lay a finger on followed her. After all, she had helped me escape from the kitchens long ago and I would never forget her kindness to me. I waited until the kind woman left Christine alone. It was then that I started to sing.

"Christine, Christine, why have you forsaken me?"

Christine looked around the room to figure out where my voice was coming from. I have often fooled her with my operatic tone, making it unknown as to where I was. She whispered something and then returned,

"Angel of Music, please forgive me, I did not mean to be so cruel to you."

I frowned and then quietly opened the sliding mirror to reveal myself. Christine turned to look at me and I could tell that she was upset as well.

"Christine," I said. I couldn't stand looking at her while she looked at me with those sad eyes of hers. It was too depressing. I turned away from her and stepped back into the tunnel, stretching out my hand for her to follow.

But she hesitated.

I grew angry as she continued to falter. "Christine, please."

She looked at me with large eyes and turned away. "No, I can't."

I lowered my hand at my side and demanded, "Why not?"

She held onto her chair as she admitted, "He said he would see me again. He said we would go out."

My teeth came together in a grinding motion. "He has no right to take you away from me."

"Steerpike—"

"No! I don't want to hear it, Christine. You are my beloved. Don't you know how much I care about you?"

"Yes, I do, but—"

"I'm not going to discuss this with you." I said firmly, retreating deeper into the tunnel, turning around as I said, "If you truly love me, you will stay here and tell that man that you have plans and that you cannot go out with him tonight."

"Please, Steerpike, I don't wish to be cruel to you."

"What?" I was livid as I returned back into the room. "What do you mean you don't wish to be? How am I supposed to take that, Christine?"

Christine paused and I waited patiently for her answer. I wanted to hold her, to touch her. Why did she have to torment me so with talk of this other man who meant nothing to me?

"You know that Raoul has been kind to me."

I growled in anger at her mentioning that horrid man's name. "That scum doesn't deserve you."

"Steerpike, listen to me. He really is a good man."

"And I'm nothing, right? I would still be nothing even if I hadn't burned my face. I know what you think of me, Christine. I know you detest me…the way I look, but none of that matters. You have to believe me when I say that I would do anything for your love."

"Please, Steerpike, don't say that."

"What would you ask of me then?" I asked her, grabbing her arms roughly. She struggled against my grip, but I held her firmly, not wishing to let her go just yet. I stopped squeezing and ran a hand along her hair, feeling her curls twist around my finger. I wanted her so badly.

"I'm sorry, Steerpike." She said sadly, "I wish there was a better way."

I released her hair in a disgusted motion, stepping away from her. "Of what? Of telling me how much you utterly despise me? Of telling the police about the mysterious "accidents" that I've caused? No, there is no way that you could betray me better than this, Christine."

I regarded her with hatred in my eyes as I disappeared behind the mirror, closing it as I sank behind the wall and cried softly. She would never come to me now that I look as hideous as I do now. Had I not been so stupid and not burned my face, she may still love me, but now…now I'm positively alone. I have no one but my darling monkey, Satan who waits for me down into my chamber. If only Christine could care the same way that I do for her, then maybe we could sing together. We could be the managers of the Opera and we could perform together some of its masterpieces and no one would ever think the better of us because the rest of the world would be under our control. No one else's.

I lay behind the mirror for hours until it became dark. I wanted to visit Christine to apologize and to hopefully make her see that I am not a cruel man.

Silently, I slid the mirror back and stepped into the dark dressing room. "Christine?" I called for her, but she was nowhere to be seen. I searched everywhere in her room and finally, I came across it, a note she had left on her dresser.

I cannot betray you. You know I care deeply for you and I have protected you all this time. However, it's time that I took some action of my own. I have gone to be with Raoul and I am sorry to say I will not return. I have left the Paris Opera for a home in the country. I pray you understand why. I promise to sing every day.

~Christine

I had not noticed the teardrops that had landed on the note until after I read her beautiful name. She left. She left the Opera. She left town. She left me. Furious, I tore the letter and stomped on it endlessly on the ground.

"Christine, I will never forgive you. You have indeed ruined my life. I hope you're happy now."

With that, I left the room and went down to my chamber where I said my last goodbyes to the Paris Opera and disappeared forever.