A/N: Hi all! This is my take on what Phillipe's funeral might have been like. It was always something I was interested in writing, so here's my attempt. Again, this is heavily ALW (especially plot wise) with elements of Leroux. I hope you like it!
I walked about my room in a desperate search for my shoes. Today was Phillipe's funeral, and I'd become rather disoriented.
"Dammit," I muttered. "Where have those blasted boots gotten to?" I sat down on my bed, resolving to go look downstairs in a moment.
"Looking for these?" questioned a soft voice from the doorway.
Christine offered me an amused smile, holding my boots, freshly shined.
"Thank you!" I exclaimed, taking them and sliding them on. Phillipe had give me these for Christmas. I looked Christine's form up and down and almost lost my breath at how lovely she was. She donned a simple, short sleeved black dress, her mane of brown of curls tied back with a black ribbon. She wore the silver music note earrings I'd given her for her birthday.
"You look lovely darling," I said.
"Thank you," she said, coming over to me. "Let me straighten you out here."
She proceeded to re-tie my scarf, rebutton my jacket, and smooth my hair.
"I'm sorry," I said, leaning over and kissing her lips swiftly in thanks. "I'm a bit out of my head today."
"You have every right to be, love," she said. "You're always so strong, Raoul, but this was your brother who you were very close to and who loved you very much."
I nodded. "I do have to be put together in front of my sisters and my aunt. I'm the head of the family now, strange as that sounds."
"And soon to be a husband," she said, wrapping her arms loosely around my neck and looking me straight in the eyes."You're the bravest of men, Raoul de Chagny, and you've always been there for me without question. Now please, let me be there for you. I knwo you have to be strong for your family. But remember, I'm here."
She kissed me and I held her in my arms for a moment, preparing to go downstairs where my Aunt Claire and my two older sisters, Adelaide and Cosette, were waiting for me. I took Christine's hand as we made our way to the living room. My sisters were there, sitting on either side of Aunt Claire, each holding one of her wrinkled hands in theirs, blonde heads bowed. These women had been the mothers I'd never had, as Maman had died mere days after my birth. They took very kindly to Christine and our engagement; Aunt Claire, in fact, had been the one who had convinced Phillipe to consent. I would have married nevertheless, would have been stripped of my title if that was the consquence, but my brother and I had always been extrordinarily close, he just needed a bit of prodding to know it was would make me happy. He had admitted to me that he knew Christine was the love of my life, and that no one else could ever hold a candle to her in my heart. It was a comfort, especially now, to have my brother's blessing. I squeezed Christine's hand and looked down at my remaining family, my mind sliding back into a very recent memory.
**Flashback**
I sat upon the edge of one of the living room chairs, hands clenched on either side.
"He spends all his time at the damn opera," said Phillipe from the other side of the door."I hardly see him, and now he comes home telling me he's going to propose to Christine Daae? I have to say, when I put him in charge of the patronage of the Opera, this was the last thing I expected."
"They've been sweethearts since they were children," came Aunt Claire's voice. "I knew they'd be married the moment that boy went to fetch her scarf from the sea all these years ago. He will ask Christine whether or not you consent, Phillipe. He asked you because he always wants your blessing. But your brother is a romantic, and he loves that girl beyond measure. I can see it in his eyes."
Silence fell for a solid minute before I heard Phillipe respond. I could picture him massaging his forehead as he often did when frustrated.
"We are one of the oldest, most respected families in Paris...if I do not marry and produce an heir, which is looking doubtful at the moment, Raoul will become the next Comte de Chagny. That is not something to be taken lightly. My father..."
"Told you to, above all, look out for your siblings' happiness," cut in Aunt Claire. "Your sisters are both happily married, why would you deny the brother you love more than life itself the same happiness? Raoul was deprived of his mother at birth, deprived of his father at a young age. Do not deprive him of your blessing to marry the love of his life."
"Raoul is set to become the head of this family," Phillipe argued, but Aunt Claire cut him off once again.
"And Christine would be a credit to this family, society be damned!" Aunt Claire argued, her voice rising. "And Raould has shown himself more than enough responsibility to become the head of this family. He's headstrong and passionate, but he's incredibly mature for his age."
I cringed at my aunt's rising voice. She loved Phillipe dearly, but the both of them were often stubborn.
"I do wish Raoul to be happy," responded Phillipe, his tone softening. "And Christine is a sweet girl; intelligent, exceptionally talented. Her father was nearly a saint."
"It's decided then," said Aunt Claire, flinging open the door and grinning at me before heading out onto the veranda to give Phillipe and I a moment alone. I sprung up from my chair, watching my brother run a hand through his short, dark blonde hair. I met his gaze. I was the taller of the two of us, but Phillipe still possessed a great ability to look rather intimidating when he was serious.
"Raoul."
"Phillipe."
"I suppose you heard..."
"Yes," I said. "I couldn't help it, really. It means the world to me, your blessing."
Phillipe's eyes crinkled as he smiled despite himself, running his fingers across his moustache. He cleared his throat, regaining composure.
"Yes well, you deserve happiness Raoul. I've always wanted the best for you, stubborn as you've always been."
He grinned, and I couldn't help but laugh at my many childhood memories of Phillipe, twenty years my senior, essentially raising the headstrong boy I had been. He clapped my shoulder.
"Bring Christine to dinner at her earliest convienence. I should like to get to know her again."
I could tell he meant it.
"She'll love that," I responded, sliding on my coat as I went out on the veranda to join my brother and aunt on the veranda for a celebratory glass of wine.
**End Flashback**
I jumped out of the memory, shocked back into harsh reality by Adelaide's voice.
"Raoul!" she cried, leaping up from the couch, her curly blonde hair flying behind her. She threw her arms around me. Only five years my senior, she was the youngest of my two sisters and had often been my playmate. Both she and Cosette, who was 35, were married, but still lived in Paris.
"Hello there," I said, returning her embrace. I felt her tears drip onto my jacket and steeled myself to remain strong.
"Hello brother," greeted Cosette, giving me a hug once Christine and I had reached the bottom of the stairs. She rubbed her hand up and down my back as she had often done when I was a child. Only five years Phillipe's junior, and fifteen years older than me, she had always been a hybrid mix of sister and mother.
Adelaide had proceeded to embrace Christine, while Cosette admired my fiance's dress, giving Aunt Claire a moment to focus on me.
"Raoul dear, come here for a moment please. Adelaide, Cosette, kindly go with Christine to the carriage. We'll meet you there in a moment."
Christine caught my eye as she was ushered outside by my sisters, offering me an encouraging smile. Silence fell between Aunt Claire and I for a moment, and for the first time since my father, her older brother, had died, I saw tears in her eyes. She ran an affectionate finger down my cheek.
"This is going to be a difficult day for all of us," she began. "Phillipe meant a great deal to this family. Ever since your dear father died, really since your mother died, Phillipe has acted as head of this family. My poor brother was so shaken by your mother's death that Phillipe had to take at least partial responsibility for the family affairs at the young age of twenty...the same age you are now. I just can't quite believe he's gone...and to think we nearly lost you as well, my boy...the state you and Christine were in when you arrived at my chateau..."
"But you didn't lose me," I said, taking her hands in mine. "I'm still here."
"I know," she said, patting my hand. "And for that I know I'm blessed. Poor Phillipe."
"I'll never forgive myself for him coming after me," I said. It was true; my guilt was overwhelming. "I just know that the same water trap I fell prey too must have captured him."
"You musn't blame yourself," said Aunt Claire firmly. "You were trying to rescue Christine, and Phillipe in turn, wanted to rescue you." She paused, coming to the reason she'd wanted a moment alone. "Raoul," she began, "As soon as Phillipe is laid to rest, you well be the new Comte de Chagny, which is a great deal of responsibility. I know you weren't expecting it so soon, and you're young, but Phillipe will be proud of you."
"Yes," I said, taking in a deep breath. " I know. I just wish...I wish he was still here."
At this we embraced, and went out to the carriage.
I entered Notre Dame, hands linked with both Christine and Adelaide, while Aunt Claire and Cosette followed behind, hands also linked. Phillipe's coffin proceeded us, black and foreboding. Before us sat the aristocratic community of Paris, all gazing at us, as well as fellow family members sitting close to the front. Phillipe's sudden death amidst the opera disaster, had been on the front pages of the papers for weeks. Some people, I knew, were here out of morbid curiosity, but even more were here to truly pay their respects to my brother. I spotted my dear old friend Lucien in one of the pews, and he sent a melancholy smile my way. The five of us reached the front pew, where Alexander, Adelaide's husband, and Jean, Cosette's husband were already seated. Christine sat on the edge, I next to her, with Adelaide on my other side, then Aunt Claire and Cosette on the other side of her. I squeezed Christine's hand, and she squeezed back, reminding me that she was there for me. As the priest began the service I heard a sniffle, seeing Cosette, my usually tearless sister, nearly break down. I reached over Adelaide to kiss my sister's cheek and hand her my handkerchief.
"Thank you Raoul," she said, patting my hand.
Next to me, Adelaide took my hand and wiped her eyes, holding onto me, it seemed, for dear life. The rest of the funeral passed in a haze, as well as the burial service. As my brother's coffin was lowered into the unmerciful earth, I heard my aunt's voice in my head:
"As soon as your brother is laid to rest, you will become the Comte de Chagny..."
As the final blessing was said, I had an arm around each of my sisters, who were sobbing into my shoulders. Christine stood with Aunt Claire, who had her arm linked through my fiance's, leaning on her slightly, eyes dry. She seemed unable to cry anymore tears. Christine's face, I noticed, was shining with water. I felt like someone had punched me in the solar plexus, and I squeezed my sisters closer to me, wishing I could ease their pain. Here I was, the younger brother trying desperately to fill the void of the older.
Phillipe...
After the service many of the attendess returned to my chateau; I shook many hands, exchanged words I couldn't remember. I saw my friend Lucien, Andre, Firmin, the Girys, as well as many of Phillipe's friends and colleagues. I kept a polite smile plastered on my face. As the head of this prestigious family, I was expected to, no matter the circumstance. Finally, after what I was sure was an eternity, everyone was gone. My aunt and sisters, who were to stay with me for a few days, each went to lay down, faces drawn with grief. I made my way to my room and collapsed on the bed. Christine followed shortly after, sitting carefully down next to me.
"He's gone, Christine," I whispered in a hollow voice. "Gone. I hope I did him proud today."
"You did, darling," she said, smoothing my sweaty hair back from my forehead.
"The Comte de Chagny at 20...it wasn't supposed to be like this...he was like another father to me..."my voice died.
At this, Christine pulled me into her arms, like I often did for her. She held me close, whispering in my ear.
"Let go Raoul," she said. "Cry."
I wrapped my arms around her and sobbed like I hadn't since I was a child.
A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this! Sad, I know, but I always wondered what Phillipe's funeral might have been like. The next vignette should be up soon!
