Author's Note: (Updated as of 7/16/2018)
Hello darlings! I have been in so much love with the "Phantom of the Opera" story ever since I saw the movie. So, I thought it would be cute to write a fic where one can see Christine's life at the opera house when she's still a child.
I know the phantom doesn't actually show himself to her until she's older, but I thought in my story, she gets to meet him when she cries for him one night. The phantom/ Erik takes it upon himself to become more of a father figure to her than ever before, until she becomes older and his love for her transforms from paternal to romantic.
Also, Christine doesn't realize that her "angel of music" and the feared "opera ghost" who haunts the opera house, are really the same people. So, that's why she'll show him disdain at first without realizing she's hating on her own angel. But don't worry…the truth reveals itself eventually.
So we have a "Daddy Erik" story here, it will be cute with some drama here and there. Just to warn my readers, there will be "spanking of a minor" in some later chapters, but nothing too severe since Christine is a sweet, innocent little girl.
Her curiosity and temper is what gets Christine into trouble in later chapters of the story. I hope you all enjoy!
If you don't like cp (corporal punishment) please do not read and kindly do not flame me.
Little Lotte's Angel of Music
The Manager of the 'Opera Populaire' dropped onto his desk chair with an exasperated sigh. The note from the phantom of the opera lay open before him. Yes, it was another demand from the feared 'Opera Ghost' (as what all in the opera house called him.) The usual salary was mentioned, as well as the changes to be made concerning the chorus girls.
Christine Daae, who was eight at the time, was a part of the chorus group as well as the ballet. The manager grudgingly admitted to himself that she and maybe a few others were the only decent sounding voices in the whole bloody company!
The Phantom of course knew who sounded good, but he also had a great ear for picking out the horrible voices.
That morning after breakfast, the manager, Monsieur LeFevere, had come into his office to start work.
Alas, as soon as he had sat down, he saw a letter with that dreadful skeleton face seal on it. Sighing with more frustration than fear, the manager took up the letter and began reading what the 'opera ghost' could possibly want now.
The letter read:
My dearest manager,
It has come to my attention that nothing is being done about the chorus girls whom I have asked you to take care of. There are voices within the group who are ruining the operas on the night of their performances! I advise you to do one of the following: either remove the chorus girls that are the cause of the deplorable singing; or find a suitable teacher that can teach them how to sing properly.
If these demands are not met, then I will take care of the situation myself. Only I will not be so merciful about it. I will also demand a raise in the salaries you pay me if these demands aren't obeyed.
The choice is up to you monsieur.
Your faithful and obedient servant,
O.G.
After reading the letter, the manager noticed with surprise that the phantom added another note at the end of the letter:
(P.S.) Christine Daae is never to be accounted as one of the distracting, screechy chorus girls. She is talented both in her dancing and especially in her singing. Her vocal technique is progressing rapidly even as we speak, so leave her alone. If you or anyone should remove her from the chorus, expect to find something more dreadful to occur to some in your employ within MY opera house.
Once again, heed my warning and accept my advice wisely monsieur.
Sincerely,
O.G.
The manager couldn't help but feel morbidly curious and confused regarding the 'opera ghost's' favor with Christine. What was it that made her so appealing to him? She was merely eight years old. Why would a fierce thing like him be so attached to a little girl like her? Did he and little Christine have some kind of connection between them?
The manager dismissed this idea with a laugh. Surely not! He didn't think that the 'opera ghost' would take much interest in children.
Monsieur LeFevere, on the other hand, was quite taken up with sweet little Christine Daae. Although she was a charming child, capable of ensnaring the hearts of even those who held a dislike for children, he still couldn't seem to grasp the reason for the 'opera ghost's' fondness for her.
Yes, it was true. Christine Daae was a personal favorite of the manager's. She had captivated his heart with her beautiful smile, innocence, and loving personality ever since the first day she'd arrived at the 'Opera Populaire.'
She had only been seven the day she arrived at the opera house, and the manager had pitied the little girl because of the recent loss of her beloved father.
She was warm, friendly, welcoming, loving, unselfish, encouraging, obedient, never bragged about her talents, never complained or argued; oh no, Christine was a little angel…a cherub.
Over that past year, Monsieur LeFevere began to consider Christine as the granddaughter he never had. The child would usually come and visit the manager during her free time. Whenever she was with him, she was always expected to refer to the manager as 'grand-père' rather than 'monsieur' like everyone else called him.
The manager smiled at the thought of darling little Christine.
He decided that he would ask the little girl if she had any connections with the 'opera ghost' during her visit with him later that day. In the meantime, Monsieur LeFevere spent half of his morning thinking about a way to satisfy the 'opera ghosts' needs.
The clock struck 3:00 p.m. The manager was still in his office and knew that Christine would be arriving at any moment for their routinely planned visit.
The ballets for the younger girls were usually let out earlier than all the other ballerinas. Since they were so young, they did not have very large roles in the operas, and required much more rest than the older ones.
There was a knock on the door; the manager slowly looked up from his desk and administered a pleasant, "come in."
The door opened slowly and a little girl entered, looking rosy and happy; it was little Christine Daae.
"Bonjour Grand-père!" She exclaimed while running over to the manager, who stood up and caught the child in his arms, giving her a warm hug.
"Bonjour, mon petite' cherub. How were the rehearsals today, my dear?" He asked while sitting back down in his chair and setting Christine upon his knee.
"They were rather tiresome, but everyone did well today, Grand-père. I wish you could have seen those of us in the Petite ballet, Grand-père, we actually triumphed over the older dancing girls." Christine couldn't help but brag with enthusiasm.
"Oh? How so, little pet?" The manager replied with a smile as he caressed the little girl's dark curls.
"Madam Giry said so! She told us that we performed one of the best practices she's ever seen so far, and that the older girls should be more diligent in their practicing like we have been. Madame said this loudly enough so that the older ballerinas could hear."
"Oh really? And how did they respond to such a compliment? Did they become jealous?" Monsieur LeFevere asked, amused by Christine's story.
"Oh…they were jealous alright…" she replied, her voice turning dramatically serious. "One of the older ballerinas, Alice, got very offended at Madam Giry's approval of our performance over theirs. Do you know what that bold girl said to Madam? She said, 'it is not fair that they be praised so highly when we practice in a far more grueling manner than they do. If you're looking for progress, Madam, then I suggest that you discontinue our grueling practices where you drill us with the same harshness as a slave driver, and cause our very own toes bleed by the end of the day! We will not be outdone by those annoying little ballet brats!"
The manager gasped in astonishment. "Oh my goodness. I bet that ballerina got into some serious trouble." The manager tried to picture Madam Giry's reaction.
"Oh, she certainly did!" Christine exclaimed, her eyes widening with excitement. "Madam Giry marched right up to the girl and slapped her hard across the face, telling her to hold her horrid tongue! Madam Giry then explained to Alice that aside from wanting to inspire the older dancing girls to work harder, she was praising our flawless performance because she also wanted the older ballerinas to add in their own approval and words of affirmation as an encouragement to us. Madame wants them to be a good example to the rest of us, both morally and as dancers."
'Ah, I bet that ballerina felt thoroughly embarrassed after her outburst then, eh?"
"Oh yes! She was too ashamed and reeling from her tongue lashing to say anything to Madam Giry at first. But later after we were dismissed, we all saw Alice go up and apologize to Madam Giry. We could tell she accepted the apology, as Madame graciously embraced the girl and gave her a kiss on the same cheek she had slapped."
"Well that's a relief then; all is well that ends well then."
"Yeah…" Christine hummed sweetly. "Now enough about me, tell me how your day has been Grand-père?"
The manager shrugged at the little girl's question. "Oh, I have not done many exciting things today. My morning and afternoon have been rather dull, I guess you could say. I have been trying to figure out replies to some letters I have received just this morning."
"Such as this one?" Christine asked, pointing to the letter written in red ink which lay open.
The child had seen letters like that one on the manager's desk before. Whenever she was looking for the manager in the past, she would sometimes find his office unoccupied.
Christine would then take the opportunity to look around his office, and a couple of times, she would find one of those peculiar letters written in red ink. Of course, Christine's curiosity would always get the better of her and she would eventually read the letter.
Even though she was very young, Christine was a wonderful reader thanks to her father's early teachings when he was still alive. After reading one of the letters, she would wonder of the 'Opera Ghost' was constantly threatening her surrogate grandfather.
The worried child would then intercede on behalf of her dear manager, and pray for her 'Grand-père' protection from the dreadful phantom.
(Remember, Christine does not know that her 'angel of music' is also the phantom of the opera. She thinks they are both different spirits.)
The manager nodded at Christine's indication of the note. "Yes my dear, that was the first letter I received this morning. Since then, I have been trying my hardest to figure out a proper response."
"Is it from the 'phantom of the opera' grand-père?" Christine asked, already knowing the answer.
The manager glanced at the little girl in surprise before asking, "My dear, how on earth did you know?"
"Well I can read...and his signature was left with the initials 'O.G.' I know that stands for 'opera ghost.' Besides, I have heard you talking to your assistant manager and patron about the 'opera ghost,' and I already know quite a bit about him." Christine would not add that she had read the phantom's letters in the past times she had snuck in the manager's office. She feared he would be put out with her if he found out.
The manager sighed while bringing his hand to his forehead. "Yes, little cherub…the letter is indeed from the phantom himself."
After a moment of silence, Christine timidly asked while holding out her hand, "May I read it, si'l vouz plaiz?"
The manager seemed reluctant, but hesitantly handed it over to the child for her to read.
He watched the little girl carefully, as her eyes read through every word and sentence contained within the threatening letter. Christine's face lit up when seeing the unexpected praise that Opera ghost attached to her name, but then her expression went right back to its solemn one as she reached the end of the note.
"Well child, what do you think?" The manager asked as she handed it back to him.
She frowned before saying, "I do believe it is rather rude of him to threaten you about such things…he might be a little bit more polite about this whole situation, and ask your permission rather than force this burden upon you."
The manager thought he heard a faint chuckle in the room after Christine said this, but shook his head, convincing himself that it was only his imagination.
"You are correct my dear. But what am I to do? I cannot hire another voice tutor, as there are hardly any decent ones in Paris anymore."
Christine did not reply, but looked down at her hands, debating whether or not she should give the manager her answer.
The manager saw the expression on the little girls face, and knew that she might have some sort of answer for his problem.
"Is something weighing on your mind Christine? Do you know of anyone who could possibly help me?"
Christine finally looked up, her face pale and her hands trembling slightly. "I do…" She finally replied hesitantly. "I may have the answer to your problem…but-but I don't know if...HE will do it…"
"Who? Who is HE little cherub?"
Christine looked nervously around the room, before turning back to the manager and saying in a low whisper, "the person of whom I speak, is an angel, Grand-père. You must believe me when I tell you this, for if you don't, then he may not help you. I have an angel who comes to visit me every night…an angel of music…oh, I do hope he won't be angry at me for telling you this…"
The manager waited patiently, his interest and curiosity now fully sparked at what Christine was telling him.
"You see…" she began again, "when I first came here to the opera house after my father died, I would always go into the chapel and light a candle for him. I would pray that he would send me the 'angel of music,' like he promised me when he was dying. Well, the first few nights, I got no answer. But then on the fifth night, I heard a voice…a voice from above…he was talking to me...singing to me; and whispering the most soothing words to me that I have ever heard in my life."
"He claimed that he was my angel of music. I was thrilled when he told me this, knowing that he was the promise my father had sent me. Well from that night on, he has been visiting me at night...in my dreams...in my room…he is the voice inside of my head. He has been teaching me to sing. Oh Grand-père, when he sings me to sleep, he has the most beautiful and soothing voice. It causes me to have such pleasant dreams."
"Anyway, here is my idea. This may sound a bit silly, but perhaps he can teach all of us chorus girls to sing better. I have never seen him before, for he will not show himself to me. But his voice could be our guide. He could help us all with our singing; all who hear his voice will never forget it. I am sure that with his help, we could all please the 'opera ghost' greatly. I have no idea why the 'opera ghost' seems so kind and familiar about me though, as I have never met him before."
The manager was awestruck by all he had just been told. It took him a minute to reply to the little girl's fascinating story. "Well, I think it's possible that the 'opera ghost' has seen your kind heart, and has heard your voice and loves it above all others. Perhaps that's why he regards you warmly."
Chrstine returned the manager's proud smile with her timid one. "I suppose I am glad he is pleased with me…but I still want nothing to do with him, especially if he's going to be so mean to you and everyone else. I have my angel of music, and he's the one I have to thank for my progress in singing at all. He has inspired me greatly."
"I am happy for you, Christine."
"You do believe me…don't you Grand-père?" Christine asked, her large, brown eyes gazing up at the manager with hope.
"Of course I do child." He replied smiling. "I know you are a very honest little girl, and I can easily trust you."
"Oh thank you for saying that, dear Grand-père." Christine replied gratefully.
"But you must not…you cannot tell any other living soul what you have just heard from me. Not only will my angel be upset with me, but he might also get angry with you as well. I was not supposed to tell anyone about him, Grand-père. You are the first and only other person who knows about him now…"
Christine couldn't help but look around the room with some trepidation, as if she expected the angel of music to appear any second.
"You have put yourself at great risk in telling me this, my little pet, and I thank you for your honesty. When you bring the idea up to your angel, tell him I will do anything to pay him in some way for what he has done. Also, tell him that your Grand-père begs him not to be angry with you, for I was the one who inquired about him." The manager felt a little guilty that he might have somehow put Christine in an unpleasant situation.
However, the child merely smiled reassuringly and kissed him on the cheek before replying, "I will tell him of your offer. But I will not tell him of your last request. It's not your fault that you now know about my angel. I chose to tell you myself, that was my own choice. If he does get upset with me, it will only be my own fault. But don't fear for me Grand-père; he will not harm me, for he is a very kind angel and he loves me dearly. So please do not worry; I will be just fine. I will talk to him about being our music instructor and will give you his reply as soon as I can."
The manager was astonished at how loving and brave Christine was about this whole situation. He could not help but kiss her dear little face when she had finished speaking.
She truly had such a sweet and humble spirit, and the manager was very grateful to have her as a surrogate granddaughter.
"Thank you, mon petite cherub. I am indebted to you. I will be sure to make up for any misfortune that comes between you and your angel. I will not tell anyone about him, you have my word."
Christine smiled softly while waving her hand. "Think nothing of it; and thank you for keeping your promise. Now, I must go. I promised Meg I would come play with her soon after rehearsals were over."
The manager nodded while lifting the little girl off his lap and setting her upon the floor.
"Again, thank you for your help sweetheart." He said while embracing the sweet child.
"It is my pleasure to help you in any way Grandpapa. I will see you later! Au revoir!" Christine waved while skipping out of the office.
"Au revoir…" the manager called softly after her.
As Christine made her way back to her little room, she thought out loud to herself, "Oh angel, forgive me if I have displeased you…but I needed to find a way to help my poor Grand-père. That dreadful 'opera ghost' is terrifying him with those threatening letters! You were the only answer to his problems angel. Please please please help us."
Little did Chistine know, that she had been heard the whole time by hidden ears.
Author's Note: All right, so I know that this first chapter may have been a bit boring, but I had to give the story a background so it would make sense. I hope you all enjoyed it nevertheless, I promise the next chapter gets more exciting. Review! Have a blessed day my dears!
Love,
Icequeen