Chapter 2 is here. I was very please with the way this was received. Makes me want to write about my passing fancies more often!
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Needless to say, the Madame was not pleased with the girls upon her return. Their need to play ridiculous games made her push the children twice as hard for the next two weeks. After one particularly hard day, Christine had run from the practice room as fast as she could. Her eyes were filled with tears of pain. She settled herself at the top the stairs that lead to the dormitories. Pulling off one of her little shoes, she touched the crimson that trickled from her cracked toenails. She whimpered and sniffled, ignored by the older ballerinas as they went down for their own rehearsal.
" Oh, why did we play that stupid game? Madame Giry hates me now."
" What for?" came a familiar voice. But Christine, throughly upset, answered without a thought.
" She blames me for Meg's twisted ankle. But, she started the game and it's not fair I get all of the blame!" Erik stepped out of the shadows and up the stairs. He looked just as he had 2 weeks ago, only now, his face was covered halfway in shadows.
" Erik!" cried the child, dropping her shoe in shock and excitement. Erik chuckled softly, picking up the little satin concoction, it's toe soaked with blood. He observed it critically, noting in his mind to have a talk with his old friend about this cruelty.
" Little Christine, don't worry. Games can be fun. Did you forget that you're it?" She crossed her arms huffily, her bleeding toes still dripping onto the step below. Erik drew forth a handkerchief and cupped it around her toes. She looked out from under her unruly curls. She observed this young man's eyes, so intent on their task as he stopped her tiny toes from smarting.
" Is the other foot bleeding as well?" Erik asked quietly. Christine removed her other shoe, but it revealed nothing but the healing cuts from another rigorous practice. Erik pressed his lips together, suppressing the rage he knew so well. He didn't realize how much he cared for this little girl. She had unfolded her arms and now reached out to touch his face. But Erik shot his head back, curtly shaking his head.
" What's the matter, Monsieur?" He breathed out, scared of being unmasked.
" Nothing, my dear." he smiled at her. She took the hat from his head quickly and placed it on her own. It slid over her eyes and the two laughed in the semi-darkness. Erik could not remember the last time he had laughed without sarcasm. She lifted the hat up and smiled.
" You're very kind to me, Monsieur."
" Am I? " he asked, moving for his hat. But, the little girl held firm to the brim, smiling a sly smile.
" No, no, Erik. This is mine." He chuckled deeply, an eyebrow arched.
"Oh really? And why, pray tell, is that?"
" Because," the girl giggled, " Now you're it!" She grabbed up her shoes, and ran into the dormitories. Erik sat in shock, laughing to himself. This child was an angel, set to him by some divine accident. He would dote on her, find ways to make her happy.
It was the only way.
- - - - - - - - -
" Erik!" The Madame gasped, hand to her throat in shock. Erik had entered her office in complete silence, still missing his hat. Giselle found this unusual, but thought nothing of it.
" You've been pushing the children very hard as of late, I've noticed." Erik mused, leaning against her desk and toying with a knickknack. Madame Giry swallowed hard, her eyes widened slightly.
" You have never mentioned it before."
" Yes, but then again, a harmless game of tag should not warrant such behavior, Giselle. They are children, after all."
" My little Meg twisted her ankle while chasing Christine Daae! They had to be taught a lesson."
"The children, or just Christine?" The Madame drew in a sharp breath.
" Bleeding toes are part of the profession. She will become more acquainted with it when she begins pointe next month. I am simply preparing her for the pain."
" Giselle, I don't want this to happen again. Do I make myself clear?" When the woman moved to protest, the glow from his eyes silenced her. Has she forgotten to whom she spoke. He was master here. She bowed, expressing her forgiveness. Erik cleared his throat and left in a flurry of black wool.
He had made his point; Christine was safe.
The next morning, Christine hurried into the studio early. She had bandaged her toes properly and managed to get her shoes on without much trouble. Meg was sitting off the to side, her ankle still bound tightly with splints. She was nearly well enough to get back to work and decided that Christine was not the cause of her pain. She was the one who had started it all. But, Christine didn't need to know that.
Christine tied her ringlets back with a crimson ribbon and began stretching. Jean-Pierre came sauntering in like he owned the place. His leotard was riding up in the back, neither of the girls were about to help out the little snob. The other's soon followed, but no one spoke to the brunette. Madame Giry entered, her eyes scanning the little starlets. She looked each one over, stopping a little longer than necessary at Christine.
" There is an angel watching over you, Christine Daae." she stated simply, her face not a austere as usual. Christine didn't know what she meant, but found that rehearsal that day was much easier than usual.
Every so often, she would look up with a smiled, her arms up to the sky and murmur:
Thank you, Angel.
More to come :)
Sincerely,
DeMuerte
