Legal Disclaimer: I don't own anything having to do with Phantom. At all.
Content Disclaimer: This isn't intended to be anything huge, dynamic or plot-filled. Instead, it's a look into Erik's life right now. A sort of drabble, if you will.
A
Love Greater Than Death
Erik
Destler.
The name was given to me by an unkind woman, and father I never knew. I know very little of my childhood, and remember even less.
My mask, the first article of clothing I was given, made of black silk scraps from my mother's oldest gown.
Often I've wondered how things would have been had I looked different, normal. But then, I would have never met Her.
Christine Daae.
Ah yes, the very reason I write this to begin with, she has demanded that I make some account of my life, both for her, and for the children after I'm gone.
It seems like just yesterday that Christine agreed to be my wife, and it was after great turmoil on both of our parts. Raoul, the Vicomte de Chagny had been meddlesome and had deterred my dearest treasure from following her own heart.
However, it didn't take long for us to come back together, like two great magnets, we cannot stay appart. She came back to me, and we were wed soon after.
Christine became pregnant with our child soon after the wedding, and that leads us to today, when the rather cryptic discussion of my death came up. It is no lie that Christine will greatly outlive me. After all, I am already around 50 years of age. Christine is only in her mid twenties. She's afraid she will have nothing to remember me by but my music, which is why I sit here now, writing my thoughts and memories for her to have once I have left her side. It is only after I have died that she will read this, as were her conditions.
Pregnancy becomes Christine, and she appears to be glowing, her cheeks are rosy, and her temperament is very calm. She is only four months along and just showing, and I never thought I could find her as beautiful as I did when I found her standing naked before the full length bedroom mirror, looking sideways at herself. There was an expression of extreme wonder on her face as her hands absently caressed her bump- our baby. When I found her like this, tears filled my eyes and I came behind her, holding her in my arms and placing my hands protectively over hers on her stomach. We were the picture of a perfect family, and for once I belonged somewhere.
I remember when she found out she was pregnant. She had been so happy! But also so afraid that I would be unhappy, although I have no idea what made her feel that way. Of course, joy gave way to anxiety, for the both of us. We couldn't raise a child in the cellars of the Opera, so plans were swiftly made to acquire a home above ground.
I was very nervous, of course, but Christine was very patient, helping me to overcome my fears of society. She also agreed to living out of Paris, although not too far. We live now twenty minutes out of the city in a lovely country home, where we have a bit of farm. A few horses, and cow and even a sheep! Christine named him Phantes, and she'll spend hours out in the barn with him, doing what, I'm sure I'll never know.
Christine continues to sing at the Opera, although soon enough she won't be able to. Once she really starts showing her pregnancy she won't be able to sing any longer, although she doesn't seem to mind too much. We're actually planning to go on a small vacation after she can no longer work. Christine wants to see as much of the world as she can, and I cannot deny her anything. And anyhow, it has been a long time since I've traveled...
Now and again I find my thoughts drifting, imagining our child. Surely there is a good chance it will look like me... and I've expressed my fears many times to Christine, but every time she just laughs, and touches my cheek... that damned, forsaken cheek, and tells me that I'm beautiful... that the baby would be beautiful as well. I don't know what good I've done to deserve this angel to grace my life, but I thank whoever is responsible for sending her to me every day of my life. Christine is my soul... without her I'd surely die away.
--
Christine finished reading, tears in her eyes as the young boy sitting on the ground in front of her looked up in wonder.
"Papa really loved us, didn't he?" The young boy asked innocently, and Christine nodded, wiping her tears with her handkerchief and opening her arms for the boy to climb into her lap.
"Yes, Dominique... he really did."
With a profound sadness in her eyes, she looked up from where she sat beneath the willow tree there in the cemetery, and her gaze landed on the tomb stone, freshly placed and surrounded by beautiful flowers of many colors.
Erik Destler
1831-1887
Loving Husband, Loving Father
"Flowers fade,
the fruits of summer fade
they had their seasons
so did we"
His Music Shall Live Forever
--
FIN