1881, November 25, Paris, France
"I cannot apologize enough." Louis said as Christine carefully pulled her ribbon around her ankle. "Quite honestly, I don't know what happened."
"You need to work up your muscle strength, that's what happened." Christine said sharply, she gave the ribbon an extra tug. "You haven't been showing up to practices and now someone is suffering for it."
He hung his head, he couldn't have been older than twenty, Christine softened. "Please, you have a little time, you can still have your part, but only if you work hard."
"Yes Mademoiselle Christine." He muttered, his dark eyes looked downwards in shame.
"Cheer up darling. You're really a wonderful dancer." Christine held out both her hands, giving them an extra flick dramatically. "Now be a gentleman and help me up please."
He grabbed her hands and pulled her up, Christine briefly went on point for a few moments, feeling the new shoes, and sank back down again.
"The shoes are just in from Italy." A sharp voice called. "They are a new design."
Christine turned to see Madame Giry, in her typical black dress. Her eyes looked at Christine approvingly in the improvised costume. "If you need an old pair, feel free to ask. Most of the girls still are not used to them."
Christine jumped on her toes and curtsied. "They are parfait Madame." She murmured. "They support my feet wonderfully."
The women gave an approving nod, then her eyes flicked to Louis. "See that you don't drop her too!" She barked. "I can't lose my best Ballerina."
Louis nodded vigorously before giving his own bow. "Of course Madame Giry."
"Let's begin." Giry waved a hand at the seated pianist in the corner of the room. "Warm up music please."
"Argh." Christine muttered as she rubbed her feet gently.
"It hurts?"
Christine looked up to see Meg, she nodded grimly. "I admit, this is harder than I anticipated. Once," She gestured to the rehearsal room. "this would have been nothing."
"You are really doing very well." Meg looked at Christine's feet anxiously. "Better than I thought you would."
"I'm greatly enjoying myself, despite the bruises." Christine chuckled, then yawned, her eyes blinking away her weariness. "Goodness, it's been years and years since I've done a full dance rehearsal before. I missed it."
The day had been extremely busy. Louis did not drop her once, but he was rather clumsy with the choreography and they had to keep stopping to fine tune it. Christine thought she had managed rather well, but she had appreciated supper more than she cared to admit. After supper they had moved to the stage, practicing dancing across the wide stage. They were finally done.
Meg smiled, her blue eyes sparkled in the lamp light. "I could not imagine going years without dancing." She leaned forward, an eager grin splashed across her face. "Christine, how do you dance so well on those new shoes? I've been struggling with them myself-"
"Meg!" Madame Giry called to her from the stage exit. "To bed! We have a long day tomorrow."
Meg wilted slightly, but she got up and skipped across the room while waving goodbye to Christine.
Christine laughed and waved back. Slowly she sat back, the crate shifted forward, letting her comfortably lean back again the stone wall. Her eyes dropped as she watched everyone chatter and move about, soon, they would all leave. Soon she would be alone.
Suddenly she felt tired, she stood abruptly and walked to her dressing room. Once there, she stretched and sat down on a carpeted chair. She unlaced her shoes and glancing at the table beside, she noticed a book she had started. Little Women, it was called. She lit a candle, pulled it close to her, and began to read while listening to the chatter outside.
Slowly the book fell closed in her lap, and her head nodded as she fell asleep.
She woke in a panic, it was startlingly cold, she shivered in the thin costume she wore. The candle beside her had gone out.
As she didn't have another one, her feet searched the floor for her ballet slippers. Once she found them Christine ran down the hallways, shivering and watching her breath make white clouds. She was going to be late!
She paused at the stage to catch her breath, feeling rather foolish, she reached up and brushed some stray bits of hair out of her way.
"You are late."
Christine spun, calming her breaths as a smile spread across her face.
Erik stood in the wings of the stage, no doubt he had lit the candles for when she woke up. The man didn't seem at all afraid of the building burning down.
Then, she cursed herself, late to a singing lesson for the first time in ten years. All because she had fallen asleep, shameful.
She gave a graceful curtsy, lifting the edges of her dress smoothly and bowed her head. "Forgive me." She voiced. "I suppose that ten years of punctuality is not an excuse for one tardy, but perhaps," she looked up and let him see her twinkling eyes, "it might soften the blow?"
He stepped onstage, the candlelight surrounding him, revealing his terrifying height, his black cloak, his cold eyes; and a mask, black today, with swirling golden curls around the chin, mouth and eyes. It covered his whole face. Which was odd, recently he had started wearing masks that let his mouth show. It had been a refreshing change.
"I believe we can excuse your tardiness for today." He gave a short bow, a hand drew out from the silky fabric and gestured gently to offstage. "But if you wish...?"
Christine walked across the the stage, till only a few feet separated them. She stared into the dark sockets that his mask made, no matter how much light there was, she could never see his eyes.
"Perhaps in a moment." She murmured, and rubbed her arms. "I shall need to fetch my coat, I want to be as warm as possible. Boreas has done his job well I'm afraid." Here she winked, letting him in on her reference to the lore. "
"Then I shall escort you." Erik bowed again,
Walking to her dressing room, Christine shivered and wished again that cold December wasn't just around the corner. During the day, the Opera House stayed fairly warm, but at night with no one to heat it, it was not much better than the outside.
"You are well, I hope?"
Christine started, forced herself out of her thoughts and turned to Erik to give him a smile. "Yes, and you?
"Quite amiable, thank you."
"Oh, please." Christine gave out a chuckle. "You always have something to complain about. What happened today? Did Madame Carlotta screech longer than usual, or were the dancers off? Which-" she added, "would be an insult to me since I just spent five hours practicing that dance."
Erik chuckled, but did not speak. Christine looked at him for a moment, giving him a sly look from his polished black shoes to his dark mask.
"You are uncharacteristically quiet today."
"I am thinking."
"Well," Christine halted, for here was her door. "I shall investigate that in a few moments."
She opened the door and slipped inside. A single candle burned inside, it made her chuckle at Erik's thoughtfulness. How he had managed it she didn't know.
For a moment she entertained the idea of getting completely undressed and getting into her clothes, but she decided eventually that it would take too long, and slipped on her coat. She blew out the candle while pocketing her book.
It took her a little longer to find her way to the door, where outside Erik surly waited patiently. She opened the door.
"Now what are you thinking?" She stepped outside and looked up into the holes of his mask. "If it's enough to make you silent, it must be serious indeed."
He hesitated while hold out a hand carefully, Christine took it as they walked back down the hallway.
His hand was much larger than hers, but very slim, it closed around her short fingers easily. Christine yawned, and was suddenly grateful for the nap she had taken.
"Are you going to tell me what you were thinking or not?"
Erik sighed, but didn't hesitate in his long strides. "You are the only one who must ask for a pardon."
"Hmm?"
"I believe I have forgotten your music for today."
"Ah. Well, we can review today, or perhaps we can simply discuss the art and it's history." Christine halted mid-step, and let a sly smile fill her face. "Or perhaps..."
Erik, turned to face her. Despite the mask, she could easily imagine him quirking an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Perhaps it is time for me to pay you back for these exceedingly expensive lessons you have been giving me this past decade." Christine smiled. "Voice lessons are not for the cheap, after all."
Erik shook his head, his lifted his hands defensively. "They are a gift, not meant to be repaid."
"Then I will give you a gift as well." Christine raised her slippers. "I will teach you to dance."
Erik's hands dropped from the air, and for a long moment he didn't speak. His mask remained expressionless, but his lack of a prepared answer made Christine sure she had surprised him.
"Don't worry," Christine assured him after a few moments. "I won't force you to pitter on your toes across a stage like a ballerina. But there are other ways to contribute to a dance. Waltzing, for instance, or perhaps a free style."
She slipped her hand into his, and gently pulled him towards the stage. "Come, I swear I shall make it entertaining."
"And what gave you inspiration for this activity?" Erik's normally smooth voice cracked mid sentence. "I cannot think why you should only come to this conclusion now."
"Does it matter where it came from?" Christine laughed, and Erik finally began to walk with her again. "I have it now, and I wish to share it with you. Dancing it very close to my heart, it is the expression of emotion through the body. It was what I grew up learning, even before singing. Though-" she squeezed his hand. "singing will always be closer to my heart."
They were back at the stage now, and Christine quickly began warming up. Almost literally at this point, her breath was still making puffs in the air.
When she finished she asked Erik, "Is there anything you wish to learn specifically?"
"I think that you had best decide that, you know more about this than I."
"Very well." She paused, then gave a curtsy. "What is the extent of your knowledge on the famous waltz?"
"I-" Erik paused, Christine thought she detected a bit of shame in his voice. "I know the theory but have never tested it."
"Excellent." Christine held out her hands. "If you would be a gentleman, please?"