(A/N: Gah, I'm so sorry! I wanted to update yesterday, but my mother was on the computer all night and wouldn't let me. SORRY! And for all of you who asked, YES, this IS E/C. Lol, I would never ever write anything else! The beginning skips around a lot, because I'm sure you aren't interested in everything Christine and Raoul did for the first years they knew each other. I know I'm not. …((glares at Raoul))… gosh I hate writing his part! Not in the first chapter, but now he slowly turns into an idiot.
Also for those of you who want to know, Erik will be in… As soon as I can possibly put him in… ((sniffles)) Ewik, I miss you!
Chapter Two: An Old Friend
Over the next two summers, Raoul visited frequently. The two became the best of friends, and then eventually childhood sweethearts. To Raoul's disgust, however, Christine continued to hold a special place in her heart for the "Angel of Music."
He had argued with her many times on this topic. She was still convinced, however, that her Angel would find her one day, and wouldn't listen to him. So eventually Raoul let the subject drop, figuring that she would grow out of it.
But Raoul was getting older, and the older he got, the less time had to visit. Suddenly he stopped coming all together.
Christine was devastated at first, but then slowly got used to it. Her father kept her busy with singing and dancing, and when she got lonely, he told her new stories of the Angel. These became the highlights of Christine's days.
Consequently, when she was fifteen years old, she still believed in an Angel of Music, and nothing anyone could say would sway her. At times she would cry herself to sleep because he hadn't found her yet, and she began to worry that he never would.
When her father found her like this, he was quick to assure her that her angel would find her, he'd make sure of it.
"Remember, child, if he hasn't found you by the time I die, I will send him to you, I promise."
Christine looked up at him and smiled. "I know father. But that won't be for a long, long, time, right?"
"Of course." Charles Daae leaned down and kissed his daughter on the forehead. "Now get some sleep."
Christine shut her eyes and snuggled into bed. "I love you, Papa."
"And I love you, Little Lotte."
Over the next year, Charles' health slowly declined. He said nothing of this to his daughter, however, and acted as though nothing was amiss.
xxxxx
One day, shortly after Christine's sixteenth birthday, an old friend of hers came to call…
The de Chagny carriage pulled up to the house that Raoul had tracked down. He was excited, for he hadn't seen Christine in nearly four years. He still remembered her as the little girl he had been smitten with, and he couldn't wait to see her again.
Raoul jumped out of the carriage as soon as it stopped, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand. He took the steps by twos, and then knocked loudly on the door.
After a moment, a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair and dark blue eyes opened the door and peered out.
"Hello, Monsieur. May I help you?"
Raoul smiled at the young lady. "Yes, Mademoiselle, I believe you can. I'm looking for a Miss Christine Daae… do you know her?"
The girl gave him a suspicious look, and her gaze traveled to the carriage. Suddenly her eyes widened and snapped back to him, and she looked him over again.
Raoul just stood there, confused. He couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with the girl.
Suddenly she opened the door and flung her arms around his neck. "Raoul! Raoul, is it really you! Oh, I've missed you so much!"
Realization hit him. "Christine? I didn't even recognize you! You've grown into such a beautiful young lady…"
Christine blushed, and he handed her the flowers. "These are for you."
"Oh, Raoul, they're lovely! Come inside, father will be so happy to see you." She gently took the flowers and opened the door to let him in.
"Papa! Papa, guess who's here?"
After a moment, a man appeared at the top of the steps and looked down at his daughter. "Is it the duke? He's late again, and I can't wait all day—Oh!" There was a pause, and the man smiled. "Raoul, is that you?"
"It is indeed."
"So Philippe finally let you out of his clutches?" Charles asked as he descended the stairs to where the Christine and Raoul stood, hand in hand.
It was Raoul's turn to blush. "Well… well I…not exactly, I mean…"
Charles grinned. "You snuck out, did you?"
Raoul didn't meet his gaze, and couldn't answer.
"Very well, just as long as you don't get in too much trouble for it. I wouldn't want the count or your brother to be upset with me—"
Raoul blinked at him for a moment, confused. Then his eyes widened. "Oh, no, sir. My father died last year. Philippe owns the title now."
Charles frowned thoughtfully. "Is that so?" He sighed. "Your father was a good man, Raoul. I am sorry to hear it."
"Philippe lets me and my sisters stay at home, though. Did you know that my sisters are getting married in a few weeks? On the same day, too. They do everything together, and I guess they decided that they wanted to celebrate that special day together as well."
Charles smiled again. "Tell them they have my best wishes. Raoul… may I talk to you for a moment? Alone?"
Christine frowned. "Papa, what—"
"Of course, sir."
Raoul followed Charles through the great double doors to the parlor, where he pulled up a seat for him.
"Raoul, I was just wondering… and I didn't want to upset Christine…"
Raoul frowned. "What is it, Monsieur?"
Charles sighed deeply. "Do you know where I can send my daughter, where she can get a good education in music?"
"She learns fine from you, I don't see why she would need to go somewhere else…"
"Nevermind that, right now."
Raoul thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I suppose there's always the Paris Opera House. It has a great program for singers and dancers."
Charles smiled thoughtfully. "I think…I think that may work. I'll look up on it."
Raoul nodded, glad to be of help. "But why would you send her away, sir? She is very happy here, is she not?"
Charles looked up and met his gaze. "I will not live forever, Raoul. When I am gone, I want to make sure she is in good hands."
"But Monsieur, you will live for a great deal of time yet! There isn't a need to plan for after your death so soon."
Charles sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. "Maybe that is so… but maybe not. I don't want her to be left alone in the world."
"She has me." Raoul said softly.
Charles looked up at him, his gaze surprisingly sharp. "Yes…but for how long? When will you visit next, Monsieur le Comte?"
Raoul stared at him, shocked at this man's words. Charles Daae was usually soft-spoken and gentle, and it astonished him that he could say something like that. "I…I don't know…I am sorry, have I done something wrong?"
He was more than a little bit hurt at Charles's harsh words.
Charles ran a hand through his hair, upset at himself for his response. "Of course not, Raoul. I am sorry… I just worry, that's all. She's my little girl, and I don't know what she'll do when I'm gone. She is still so young in many ways…"
There was a soft knock on the door.
"Come in, Christine. I know you've been listening at the door, which is why I picked the sound-proof room."
Christine slipped inside, her cheeks tinged a faint pink. "What were you talking about, Papa?"
"Nothing of immediate importance. Christine, dear, I have to go work on something. Seeing as the Duke appeared to have forgotten about his appointment, I'm going to work on paperwork. I'll be in my office if you need me."
Christine nodded, and Charles Daae got up and left the room.
Christine turned to Raoul, and took his hands. "Come, Raoul, we have so much to catch up on! What have you been doing lately?"
xxxxx
Christine was disappointed to learn that she didn't like Raoul nearly as much as she used to. He had changed so much! It seemed that he cared more and more about business and money now, and not the things he used to enjoy. Every time she tried to bring up the old stories, he got an annoyed look on his face and told her not to speak so childishly.
Raoul, in turn, was upset that this beautiful young woman still believed in fairy tales. He put up with it for a bit, but as soon as she started on that old topic—The Angel of Music—he stopped her. Right now, he decided, was not a good time for bringing up that particular story. He couldn't believe it, but it actually at the moment annoyed him beyond all reason.
Christine pressed the topic, however. She wanted to discuss the Angel with someone so badly—she was worried still that she had offended him in some way, and he had decided not to come to her.
Raoul was insanely—and, even he admitted, foolishly—jealous over her obsession with this topic, and suddenly he burst out, "There is no Angel of Music!"
Christine stopped and stared at him, the hurt showing clearly in her eyes. Raoul immediately regretted saying that, but there was no taking back his words now.
"You…You don't really think that, do you?" She asked him, and he found it hard to meet her eyes. They were wide, surprised, and confused. How could her childhood friend turn against her like that?
"I…" Raoul looked up at her, preparing to tell her that yes, he did indeed believe that, and that the Angel of Music was a foolish children's tale made up to put young girls to sleep, but he found he couldn't. "Of course I don't, Christine, forgive me."
Christine nodded, but for the rest of the day, their conversation was polite and distant.
When Raoul left that day, he decided he wouldn't come back for a while. At least, not until Christine had such foolish notions out of her head.
xxxxx
Charles watched the de Chagny carriage pull out of the driveway, and sighed. He could guess what had happened, for he knew how different the two were now.
Raoul had grown up quite a lot since he had last visited, and had expected Christine to be as sophisticated as he was.
Christine, however, had remained the innocent girl she always had been.
Charles came out from his office after Christine had gone in her room, and found the Vicomte's flowers in the waste can.
He sighed, then plucked them out and set them in a vase. Christine would eventually come around, but until then, he decided to leave her to her own devices.
(A/N: There, that chapter was a little longer. Sorry for the shortness of the first one, and for the delay of this one. Hopefully I'll be able to update tomorrow before I leave for Pittsburgh!)
...Hilary...
