Disclaimer: I own nothing about these characters but the stubborn determination to re-shape their destinies...
A/N: I have decided to revise this chapter so that the events in these dreams are told only from Christine's POV. I have also eliminated superfluous material.
There is a reason for the year in which this story takes place: Andrew Lloyd Webber's world-famous musical was first brought to the stage in 1986. So my selection of a year a century earlier is a sort of tribute to him.
This story might seem a bit unusual to many readers. My only explanation is that this is what my unconscious has concocted, with the ever-present help of my muses! In the Author's Notes for a later chapter, I will explain how the immortal Susan Kay has given me some inspiration, as well.
I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter 1: An Unexpected Occurrence
1886, somewhere near the northern coast of France
Christine knew that Madame Giry had done well in choosing Father Girard for the intimate ceremony. Erik had tremendous respect for him. Knowing how very important a religious ceremony was to his beloved soprano, he had agreed to have a Catholic wedding, instead of merely the civil ceremony he would have preferred.
The moment for the solemn ritual had arrived. As the congregation rose, Father Girard motioned for Christine to be escorted down the aisle. She saw Erik standing proudly, like a magnificent dark statue, at the altar, his mask in place. He was trying to contain the strong emotion that had its grip on him. His golden gaze was locked on her, as she waited at the entrance to the chapel.
"The Wedding March" came forth from the organ like an elegant storm of glorious sound. Christine felt, at that moment, that no piece of music ever created could rival it in grand majesty.
Nadir began escorting her down the aisle. She kept her eyes fixed on Erik's throughout the walk. The Persian, who looked regal in his flowing robes, made sure she kept time with the music.
The bridal gown train, strewn with many tiny diamonds and pearls, swept grandly behind her. The gown itself, of brilliant white organdy, perfectly showcased her slim figure without immodestly revealing it. The sleeves were studded with little pearls and diamonds as well. A graceful and equally modest decolletage framed her neck and face, which was covered by a gossamer veil crowned with white lilies. The gown was an exact replica of the one Erik had obtained for her while he still lived at his home by the underground lake. The original had, unfortunately, been lost in the midst of the mob's insane fury when they had stormed the house.
She smiled at Erik as she approached the altar. Nadir Khan gave her hand into his, and stepped back.
She felt the warmth of Erik's gloved hand enclose her own, grasping it firmly. She looked at him through misty eyes, squezzing his hand, letting him know that this was real, this was what she wanted. He responded by lifting her hand to his lips and brushing a kiss upon it, before lowering it again...
The coach lurched suddenly, and she was rudely awakened. Dazed, she opened her eyes, and stared up into the face of...Raoul, who was looking down at her sweetly, illuminated by moonlight.
"Ah, my little lovebird awakens at last," he crooned, while Christine, frowning, brought a hand up to her forehead, massaging it briefly. She felt totally confused. Had she stumbled into a dream, while that other, incredibly beautiful scenario, was the true reality? It had seemed so glowingly real...Yet here she was, in a coach, half-asleep, her head in Raoul's lap...
"What is it, my sweet little Lotte?" he inquired with some amusement. "Have you just returned from an unpleasant dream?"
She tried to sit up, but fell back into his lap. Raoul laughingly helped her back up.
Turning to him, she frowned again.
"Where are we going, Raoul?" she finally asked. She simply could not believe the shift in scene and cirmcunstances she had so swiftly undergone. She had been about to marry Erik...yet here she was, in a coach with Raoul, going she knew not where, although he seemed to. Had she been reliving a memory? Had she, in fact, married Erik, and somehow ended up here, having forgotten...but no, that train of thought led only to madness. She whimpered softly, bringing a hand to her mouth.
Raoul was looking at her strangely. "What is the matter, my princess? You know perfectly well where we are going. Come, you must shake off this nightmare. I am here with you. I will allow nothing to harm you."
Leaning over, he brought her over to his side, her head on his shoulder as he cradled her in his arms. He kissed the top of her head.
"There, my love. You must be extremely tired. I promise you that we shall soon arrive at a very nice little town where they are sure to have a comfortable inn for us."
She smiled , and softly caressed his hand. "Yes, " she agreed, "I do feel quite tired. I wish this entire thing was over and done with, and we were already permanently installed in our new home."
"As we shall be, my little Lotte," he promised, settling her more comfortably in his arms.
Christine sighed, although a little nugget of nagging unease had settled in her heart. She decided to push it away, and promptly fell asleep again.
All of the formal festivities attending a wedding ceremony were at an end. They were now installed in their elegant hotel suite, located in the very heart of Paris. The balcony opened out onto a wonderful view, and the silvery moonlight now softly stole in through the balcony doors.
She had gasped with astonished delight when she walked into the suite, her hand in Erik's. Unbeknownst to her, he had lit and placed several candles on the dresser, night table, and writing desk of the spacious apartment. Christine looked around, tears shining in her eyes. She could not contain her happiness at seeing the sensuous, romantic environment that he had created, just for her... He had even ordered roses of the darkest, bloodiest red brought in, and placed them, in exuberant profusion, in several vases all over the room.
Her trembling gaze finally fell on the luxurious bed. Between the two pillows lay a single rose. Two ribbons were tied around it -- one black, one white. They were laced through a small envelope. She excitedly ran over to the bed, and picked up the rose carefully, gently untying the ribbons. Having freed the envelope, she pulled out the note it contained. She could feel Erik watching her intently, from his position in one of the luxurious armchairs of the suite. She turned to look over at him, smiling shyly. He was indolently stretched out, his booted feet out in front of him, as he contemplated her. The expression on his face was a mixture of amusement and intense love. She knew he found it hard to believe that she was now his wife.
With shaking fingers, Christine now began to unfold the note.
'My Beloved,
You are the glorious reality my music has ever sought to express. You are the dream of love my heart has unknowingly yearned for throughout the years. I am so in love with you that I must have you at my side, until I breathe my last.
Your adoring Erik'
Christine put the note down, speechless. She felt her heart expanding, her joy spilling over in two tears that flowed down her cheeks, as she turned to look at her new husband. As their eyes met, he quietly arose, and went over to her. They gazed at each other silently as he stood in front of her. Then, slowly, deliberately, he removed his mask. Bending down, he took both of her hands, lifting her up to him. She slowly stood, her eyes remaining on his. Softly, tenderly, he gathered her into his loving arms, kissing her forehead and temples, the tip of her nose, before finally moving down to her lips, softly brushing them with his. It was then that she closed her eyes, sighing with happiness, opening her mouth to him. His tongue met hers, sending shivers of delight through her body.
He pulled her closer to him, and she grasped him around the waist, as tightly as she could. Her breathing now came in ragged gasps, and she was beginning to feel as though she could scarcely stand. A slow, raging heat built up and gathered in her belly. She could also feel the heat building up in Erik.
This was a beautiful madness, a fire-filled ecstasy...For she loved this man beyond all reason. She would never love or desire any other. He was entirely hers...She had ceased to think. Her emotions ruled her now, and she rode their heightening intensity with unrestrained passion...Ah, Erik...
Christine felt his arousal, his great love, enveloping her in the most wonderful, sweeping flight of feeling, as the moon filtered through the gossamer curtains, caressing their embracing bodies...
Never had she believed this night would ever be possible...this night, this man, this love that filled her so completely, erasing all her doubts and fears...She knew that she was utterly his as he whispered in her ear, "My love, this night is the realization of my greatest dream..."
The coach lurched again, and again she awoke. Abruptly sitting up, she looked quickly at the man in whose lap her head had been resting. Raoul gazed at her in the dark, puzzled. He could barely see her now, for the moon had fled behind some clouds, but he was aware of her agitation, and did not know what had caused it.
"Christine, what is it? You are worrying me!" he said softly, sweeping her voluminous cascade of hair over one shoulder.
She did not know how to answer him. How could she be on her way to marry one man, while dreaming that she was marrying another? She frowned at the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny.
"Raoul...I have just had the most peculiar dream, but it is just a vague memory now. I can't recall what took place." Here she blushed, for she was not at all comfortable with lying.
"Well, little Lotte," he said, trying to reassure her, "think no more about it. It will soon dissipate by itself. Remember what awaits us -- a wedding in a beautiful church, in the very center of the picturesque little town in which I spent my first years. My parents' chateau is not far away...we shall have a wonderful honeymoon!"
Abruptly, she sat up, straining to hear. She pulled away from Raoul.
"Christine, what is it?" He could not fathom why she was acting so strangely, but came to the conclusion that she was probably simply nervous about their upcoming wedding. He could also guess that she was even more apprehensive about his parents' probable reaction to the news. Raoul had told her that they had yet to know of his betrothal to Christine.
"Something is wrong," she breathed, her voice full of fear. It was then that they heard them clearly -- the distinct sounds of men's harsh voices, the pawing of horses' hooves, the snorting of equine nostrils. The sounds were approaching rapidly, and even now were surrounding the coach.
She turned to Raoul in great fear. "Robbers!" she breathed out in a horrified gasp.
Quite abruptly, the coach lurched again, very violently, and they were both thrown to the floor. The horses neighed in fear as the coachman cried out in terror. A shot rang out, and his cry was suddenly cut off.
"Christine, you must stay inside the coach," Raoul said, as calmly as he could, while he drew out his pistol, making sure that it was loaded. He also quickly fastened his sword about his waist. Then, swiftly opening the door of the carriage, he nimbly jumped out, while Christine let out a scream.