Author´s note: This story was written as a Secret Santa present to Christine Persephone. Her request was: I would like to see a winter story, set post-Phantom in Sweden, involving Christine and somebody, Christine´s red scarf, and an orphaned baby deer. By "somebody" I mean R/C, but if you really honestly can´t bear to do that, E/C is lovely, too (Though you´ll have to bend canon in order to achieve that; that´s fine.). Can be light in tone or more serious, but shouldn´t be outright humour or really dark. If they´re married, no children, please. And with regards to circumstance, backstory, Raoul and/or Erik, I really don´t mind which version or combination of them you follow, but you know that I like my Christines dark-haired.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from "The Phantom of the Opera". They belong to Gaston Leroux / Andrew Lloyd Webber.
"Look, Christine! Isn´t this beautiful?", Raoul exclaimed. He was the only man I had ever met who got that excited about everyday things and wasn´t afraid of admitting it. In such moments, when his eyes sparkled and his face split into a broad smile, he looked very much like the boy he still was, at least at the bottom of his soul. I loved him even more for it.
This time it was a group of particularly large trees which had caught his attention. The branches were covered with snow, and only here and there a few twigs in the usual dark green could be seen. It was indeed a pretty sight, especially a few days before Christmas. "Stop here!", he called. The driver of the sledge turned his head and threw him a surprised glance. "But monsieur… we´re in the middle of a forest.", he argued. "So what!", Raoul said. "Christine and I will go for a little walk." I couldn´t help smiling as well. His tendency to make spontaneous decisions was one of his best character traits.
A small sound that I had heard a thousand times in the last days came from the second bench. It was Mlle.Millier clearing her throat. "Don´t forget that the Devans expect us for dinner at six.", she reminded us in her most sensible voice. An elderly woman, distantly related to Raoul, she had spent far too much time with us ever since this holiday had started. My fiancé and I couldn´t have a minute for ourselves as she always interrupted even the most romantic moments. This seemed to be her only pleasure in life.
"We won´t be gone for longer than half an hour.", Raoul assured her gently. I couldn´t understand how he managed to be this friendly to her. Would people like her soon be part of my life, just as they were part of Raoul´s? I didn´t like the idea at all. "Are you coming, Christine?", he asked. "Or would you rather drive straight to the Devans?"
"No!", I muttered hastily. I seized the hand he offered me and followed him out of the sledge. I felt Mlle.Millier´s gaze in my back, but I didn´t care. All that mattered now was the wonderful winter scenery around us. Snow was everywhere: on trees and bushes as well as on the ground. The latter seemed to increase with every step we took deeper into the forest, making it difficult to walk. Raoul with his long legs wasn´t that much affected, but after just a few minutes my skirts got caught in a shrub and I had to stop to disentangle them.
His enthusiasm for the snow-covered surroundings was so great that it took him a couple of seconds to realise that I wasn´t directly behind him anymore. Looking around at me fighting with the shrub he commented: "If I didn´t know you were there, I could hardly see you. This colour you´re wearing is ideal for hiding.". He was right. Both my skirt and the long coat were perfectly white. Only my dark hair was clearly visible.
"May I remind you that it was you who wanted me to wear white, saying it complimented my complexion?", I called. "But it does! You should see yourself: hair as dark as ebony, cheeks as red as blood – you look just like Snow-White.", he said with a boyish smile. By now he had come back and helped me. A moment later my skirts were freed. "Thank you.", I muttered, meaning both the help and the compliment.
"From now on I´ll stay at your side.", he announced, taking my hand. "Then nothing bad can happen to you." Even with all that had already happened he still believed to be my protector. Oh no, he had by no means forgotten that my kiss had saved the two of us in that night. He simply didn´t want to be reminded of it, which I could understand very well. It was the same for me.
But unlike he I thought about the events a lot. The worst moment hadn´t been leaving Erik – it had been coming back to him. At least three nights a week I stood at the shore of the underground lake again in my dreams, staring in horror and confusion at his lifeless body. I still remembered the feeling of his skin as I had put back the ring he had once given me. I didn´t know how I´d have gone through the ordeal of burying him without Raoul at my side. He had dug the grave and let me weep at his shoulder, not saying a single negative word about the man who had nearly killed him. In that sense my fiancé was indeed my protector.
A hand running through my hair lovingly reminded me of the fact that I wasn´t alone. "What are you thinking about?", Raoul asked softly. "Nothing special.", I replied, glad that my cheeks were already red from the cold. Lying about this question was more merciful for him than the truth. Yet he was sensitive enough to notice my rather depressed mood. "Does it have to do with Mlle.Millier? I know you don´t like her too much, but she does belong to my family…"
"That´s just the point.", I told him, seizing the chance to talk about something that had bothered me for a while. "When we agreed on travelling to my home country before our wedding I didn´t assume you´d use the time to visit every single friend of your family here." "You know as well as I do that I´m expected to do these things.", he replied. "Someone has to strengthen old ties and form new ones. It is essential for me to meet people of the same or even a better position in society to exchange information on both the professional and personal level."
I stopped dead and stared at him. Hearing such words out of his mouth came as a shock. In all the hours we had spent together during my time at the opera he had never talked like that. "Now you sound like all the other aristocrats.", I said in a flat voice. "And I thought you were different." "I am different.", he argued. He tried to grab my hand again, but I pushed him aside. It was hard enough to resist his pleading eyes without physical contact. Yet I wanted to finish this discussion; I knew I´d probably not be brave enough to start it again.
"Christine, please believe me! Do you really think that I´d be with you if I was like the others?", Raoul asked. Before I could even open my mouth to answer he did it for me: "Of course I wouldn´t. Do you remember all those occasions when I went to social events without you, telling you the presence of spouses wasn´t required? That was a lie. You simply weren´t invited. Countless time I´ve been seated next to nice young ladies, in the hope I´d finally leave you. But I didn´t do it.".
He threw me a triumphant glance. Apparently he was of the opinion that such news improved his situation. Yet just the opposite was the case. "Do you expect me to be grateful?", I hissed. "The noble vicomte who cares for the poor singer? Never! Why don´t you take one of those nice young ladies? I´m sure they - -" "Sh!", he made, putting a finger on his lips. This gesture only made me angrier. Who was he to forbid me to speak?
I took a deep breath, but stopped myself quickly. Following his gaze I spotted what he had seen moments before: Between two large trees a small creature emerged. Its brown body resembled that of a foal; it was long-legged and had thick hocks. Yet the cloven hooves and the white patches on the back showed that it wasn´t a horse. "A fawn!", I whispered, enthralled by the clumsiness of its movements and the big eyes.
"Over here!", Raoul muttered, and we hid behind the nearest tree. "It´s a miracle that it hasn´t heard us.", he remarked. Involuntarily I held my breath as we watched the little deer, but it soon became obvious that it was too upset to notice us. It walked across the clearing we had stood on again and again. Its head turned in this and that direction, and it made anxious sounds. "I think it´s looking for its mother.", I murmured. Raoul nodded. My fingers and toes began to grow cold, but I didn´t want to leave yet.
After a few minutes of searching and calling the fawn seemed to get tired. Under the lowest branches of a tree, where the ground wasn´t as snow-covered as in the rest of the forest, it simply let its tiny body sink down. A few more times it managed to call out, then sleep overpowered it. Only now did Raoul and I dare draw a bit nearer. Some steps away from the sleeping animal we came to a halt.
"It´s so cute.", I breathed, my heart full of affection. Jokingly I added: "I wish I could take it home with me.". "You can do that.", he told me seriously. I threw him a brief glance and noticed that his eyes were sparkling again, the way they always did when he had a good idea. Or when he thought he had a good idea. "It could be brought to France on the train and live in the stables with the horses. And on Sundays you could visit it and go for a walk with it in the park.", he went on cheerfully. "It probably doesn´t have a mother anyway, so it would be a good deed to care for it."
At last he saw the critical expression on my face. "What´s the matter, Christine?", he asked artlessly. I shook my head. "We cannot just take it with us." "But yes! Look!" With a broad smile he pulled a small grey box out of the pocket of his coat and opened it. On a layer of dark blue velvet there was a gold necklace with a number of shining diamonds. "It was meant to be an early Christmas present for you.", Raoul explained casually. "But now we can use it as a collar for your latest present." With a proud gesture he pointed at the fawn.
"You don´t understand!", I accused him, trying hard to keep my voice down. "You can´t just put a collar around its neck to make it belong to you. It doesn´t belong to anyone." For a little while I had forgotten our argument, but now anger boiled in my stomach again. I didn´t realise that the longer I talked, the less it was about the deer. "It wants to be free, Raoul. It wants to play with others instead of going for a walk, its behaviour constantly watched by a dozen eyes. It wants to stay here in the forest instead of being put into an artificial environment. And it doesn´t want a stupid necklace!" Shaking with rage I snatched the box out of his hand and threw it to the ground.
"Christine… Christine…", Raoul muttered, sounding completely helpless. It took him a moment to take in everything I had said and understand what it meant. Then he wanted to know: "Why did you never tell me you weren´t happy?". His sincere interest made me calm down a little as well. At least he didn´t hide behind stupid phrases as before. "I didn´t want to bother you with my problems.", I admitted. "You were so content, and I kept asking myself why I couldn´t adjust and become like the other women." "But Christine… I´m not content.", he corrected me. "It´s not as if I enjoyed meeting boring people and talking to them about boring topics. I have to do it."
Almost shyly his hand reached for mine. This time I didn´t protest. "I´m just worried.", I said. "I know I´m not a good match for you in the eyes of society and I… I miss our childhood, when you were simply Raoul and I was simply Christine." Judging by the expression on his face he was touched by this confession, probably because he felt the same. "What if I tried to reduce the number of the events I have to go to?", he suggested. "And I´ll start right now. There´s a little pension maybe half a mile down the road. Why don´t we stay there till Christmas instead of going to the Devans? I´ve never liked them anyway."
"That´s a wonderful idea, Raoul." My heart was pumping wave after wave of joy through my body. At last he had understood what was going on in my head. Only the thought of the sleeping fawn kept me from flinging my arms around the man I loved. The concern about the deer was like a dark cloud in the blue sky of my mind. "But what shall we do with it?", I asked, now feeling helpless myself. "Let´s just leave.", he replied. Noticing my sceptical glance he explained: "If the mother is still somewhere around, she won´t come out as long as we´re here. It´s the little one´s last chance.".
I was far from convinced, but didn´t have a better idea either. One last time I looked at the fawn. It would never know how much it had helped me. "Thank you!", I whispered. "Good luck!" The animal replied by stirring slightly. "Come on, Christine!", Raoul mumbled, leading me away. Briefly he leaned down, and I knew he was picking up the box containing the necklace.
Then we walked on. I was close to crying; it was unbelievably hard to leave the little creature alone in the forest with all its dangers. When we had just made a few steps I heard the fawn calling for its mother again. The sound nearly broke my heart. "Please let me go back! I have to…" I struggled, but Raoul´s hand was still holding mine. "No!", he said shortly. At last I managed to turn around. Reluctantly he did the same.
"Quiet!", he ordered, squeezing my hand painfully tightly in an attempt to hold me at his side. I complied as I saw movement. The branches of a nearby tree parted and a grown-up deer joined the fawn, giving a sound that seemed to come from the depths of its heart. With a squeal the small animal jumped up. Their heads met in an short affectionate gesture, then they left the clearing, the little one pressing itself closely against its mother.
We stood at the same spot long after they had gone. Tears of happiness were flowing freely over my cheeks, and as I looked up at Raoul I noticed that his eyes were a little moist as well. Quickly he pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes. "What´s that?", I wanted to know, pointing at a red piece of cloth that was partly hanging out of his pocket. "It´s a second present.", he replied, smiling. "It´s not as valuable as the first one, that´s why I was reluctant to give it to you. But maybe you´ll like it."
Impatiently I waited for him to pull it out completely. When he had done so I gasped for breath. "Oh Raoul! Is it really… It can´t be… my red scarf?", I stammered. "Well, it´s not exactly the same.", he admitted with a humble smile. "But it´s the same fabric and the same colour." Carefully he wound it around my neck. Freeing my hair from under it he whispered: "You can see it as a token, a symbol. You´ll always stay my Little Lotte, and if you feel like throwing it into the sea a hundred times, I´ll still be there to fetch it.".
I swallowed hard, trying to make the lump in my throat vanish. "I love you, Raoul.", I murmured. "And I love you, Christine, my dear.", he gave back. I raised an eyebrow. "Christine, my deer?", I repeated. "I hope you won´t call me that all the time from now on." He shook his head and grinned mischievously. "I know how I´ll call you: hair as dark as ebony, a scarf as red as blood and a soul as white and pure as snow – You´re my little Snow-White!" Laughing we made our way out of the forest. Raoul had found a new name for me, and I didn´t complain. At least it would always remind us of this very special day.
The End
