Belle Nuit

Part one: Nuit

Paris, 1870:

Alone. That was the only word she could think of to sum up her life. She was all alone, and she had been for some time. It didn't mind her so much anymore. The young girl had quickly grown accustomed to the quiet crypts beneath the theater. After all, it was all she had. She couldn't remember anything about the world outside, or her family for that matter. All she knew was that they had abandoned her outside the Opera Populaire on a soggy night ten years ago.

She was only one and a half years old at the time, and an elderly cleaning lady employed by the theater had carried her inside and cared for her in secret, hiding her below the theater. However, the woman died four years later, leaving the poor girl lost amidst the deep caverns and passages beneath the church. After crying for five days straight, she finally gave in and let the darkness consume her. She was no longer afraid of the rats running rampant through walls, or the spider webs clinging to everything she touched. She embraced the cold, damp tunnels with their watery floors. She welcomed the crypts as her own, but most importantly, she welcomed her loneliness. Soon she knew every single secret buried beneath the theater, and she was fast. She could race through the crypts at astonishing speeds without making the slightest sound or even disturbing the pools of water scattered about.

The girl was now nearing thirteen. She had grown tired of endlessly wandering through the passages, and was content with just sitting on the roof watching the stars. They had always mystified her, with their timeless beauty gazing down upon the Earth. She smiled to herself, thinking how her old caretaker would have reacted seeing her so high up staring out at the world. The old woman never had any sense of wonder. Or fashion for that matter, she added with a laugh, recalling the outrageously poofy skirts that used to adorn the woman's chubby torso.

She looked out at the stars again. They glittered so peacefully over the silent city laid out before her. Watching them slowly twinkle relaxed her and she remembered when she had first seen the sparkling wonders..

6 years ago:

A teenage Christine Daae ran through the halls of the ballet dormitories. Late for my lessons again! Oh, how could I have been so stupid! she thought angrily. Suddenly, she stopped. She could have sworn she saw a flash of hair disappear round a distant corner. Passing it off as one of the other ballerinas, she continued racing towards the stage.

Later that evening she found herself walking up to the large balcony at the rear of the theater. She had been ridiculed by the other girls for being late again, and needed to escape. Not even her best friend Meg knew Christine came here. It was the perfect sanctuary. Upon reaching the top, though, she stopped again. There was a little girl walking towards the railing. Tentatively and silently, she stepped, staring at the sky the whole time. It was as if she made any noise, she would scare away the stars. Utterly mystified, she did not hear as Christine walked up behind her.

"It's alright, they won't disappear." Christine reassured.

The girl whipped around, looking frightened and awestruck at the same time.

"The stars are the lights of angels," Christine continued gently. "They're always here watching over us."

She surveyed at the poor little thing trembling before her. The child had large, dark eyes that shook with a mixture fear and awe. Her jet-black hair fell past her waist, loosely tied back with a discarded, old ribbon. The sharp moonlight accentuated the pallor of her skin, yet her face was shining with emotion just the same. She looked so frail compared to the muscular, yet sleek, ballerinas to which Christine was so accustomed.

"My name is Christine. What is yours--," she started, but the girl had fled.

So swiftly had she disappeared from the terrace, that Christine couldn't help but murmur, "..just like the night.…un enfant de nuit..."

A ways away, in the safety of the secret passages, a child stopped to catch her breath. Her head was swimming with thoughts and emotions, each one stronger than the last. At last, she calmed herself down. That girl called herself Christine. I wonder if I could have a name too.. She listened. Nuit...I like it..

Present:

A gentle breeze blew past, arousing Nuit from her memories. Slowly, she climbed back down towards the crypts she called home and quickly feel asleep on her cot.

The next morning:

An indignant screech shattered the silence, echoing from above. It was enough to rouse the girl from her slumber. She sighed then started to giggle. La Carlotta was at it again...

A/N: This is my very first fanfic, so bear with me. I know it's bad. Anyway, I'm not sure at all where it's exactly headed. I just had an idea and started writing. The beginning seems a little choppy to me at the moment, I swear it will get better. So far all I have are the very beginning and the very end, with very little information on whats happening in between.

I decided to name it after the first two words in the famous Barcarolle from the French opera, Les Contes d'Hoffmans. It seemed fitting, considering the setting and main character.

By the way, this isn't really EC or RC. It's just the same story told from a different perspective. Both guys will get bashed around to some degree.