Disclaimer: I sadly own nothing related to The Phantom of the Opera or The Illusionist. Only original characters belong to me.
AN: Christine is going to be very spoiled, selfish, and nasty in this story, so consider yourself warned if you are a Christine fan. Oh, and the magic trick used can be seen in the movie The Illusionist. It was very fun to watch. Hope you enjoy and will review! Thanks!
Chapter 3: Ten Years Later:
"I think it would be a very good thing for you to keep up the friendship," Mama gently suggested, setting aside the letter she held. "They were friends for such a long time, and perhaps being in Paris would be good for her."
Papa frowned and looked over at her. "I do not think you have considered the whole matter, my dear," he said. "Christine is no longer the little girl we once knew. She is grown now, and is married with a large house of her own to run. How can we be sure that she will pay the proper attention to our Leah?"
Mother waved his words aside. "She has been well-taught in such things," she said. "Besides, she is now a Vicomptess, a higher status than I thought she would be, and fulfilling her request would do wonders for Leah's future."
I tried not to sigh and instead looked out the window.
Earlier today, a note had arrived from Paris. It was from my former playmate, Christine Harran, now Christine de Chagny. She had married over six years ago, at the age of twenty, to Vicompt Raoul de Chagny of France. It had been an arranged marriage, and was the proud product of Christine's father's efforts to find his daughter a rich, handsome young man who could provide well for her.
As far as I knew, the de Chagny family was very wealthy, and I could not understand why they would marry off their son to the daughter of a man who barely counted as an aristocrat. However, when I really thought about it, I realized that it was not Christine's fortune that had gotten her such a good marriage, but actually her beauty.
Until we were both at the age of eighteen, Christine and I had spent most of our time together. Madame Giry taught us our lessons in decorum, dress, and all other intellectual matters, and made sure that we knew how to conduct ourselves in public and private. We two girls practiced sewing, horseback riding, dancing, and drawing in each other's company, and were relatively happy with that arrangement.
But as the years passed, we slowly grew apart, mostly due to Christine's dream. She was determined to wed someone who could adore her and admire her beauty, such as her soft chestnut curls, sparkling blue eyes, and flawless porcelain skin. She was also slender and rather tall for a woman, but that only made her graceful instead of awkward. At the age of eighteen, it was with these tools and a focused mind that she left my father's house in order to return to her own, a well-bred lady who had been educated and raised in a good style.
Sir Gustave Harran, her father, welcomed her back with open arms and a grand party in her honor (or so it was said amongst our servants, who often gossiped with those at the Harran residence). And at that party was the Count and Countess de Chagny and their youngest son, Raoul.
Before six months were gone, Sir Harran had arranged a marriage for his daughter to the Vicompt, who had fallen in love with Christine the moment they'd met. Though she had little money for a dowry, the Count and Countess were so impressed with Christine's manners, grace and beauty that they decided to put aside the financial matters and allow their son to marry her. After all, money wasn't much of a concern for them, since their wealth was so vast, and a beautiful wife could often be as important as her dowry.
When Christine was barely twenty, an invitation arrived for their wedding, and was accepted. Mama accompanied me there. From where I was seated, I listened as Mama whispered that it was no wonder the de Chagny family approved of the marriage, especially since Christine looked like an angel standing before the priest.
"Mark my words, Leah, when I say that beautiful children from a beautiful bride is sometimes more important than money," she said softly. "If your children are attractive, that will only make them marry faster and higher in society and wealth."
So there it was. Christine married into the French nobility and went off to live in Paris, leaving me in the peace and quiet of the German countryside. Not that I minded, of course; I did not wish to have the same sort of marriage as my former playmate, one that was only based on looks and money. No, the marriage I longed for most was gone, disappeared just after my sixteenth birthday. I wanted no one other than him by my side.
Sadly, the peace did not last as long as I'd liked. Soon I began receiving frequent letter from France, all of them in Christine's writing, telling me how wonderfully happy she was in her new life. I quickly became tired of hearing how lovely her home was, what she had just purchased on her most recent shopping trips, and that she was to attend yet another party soon. It was all very dull, and I tried to reply as politely as I could while silently praying that she would stop writing to boast about her new life and marriage. Sadly, they did not stop, and I forced myself to write back, if only to be polite.
And now here was another letter, this one asking me to go to Paris and keep Christine company while her husband was out of town on business. I had been invited several times before, but always refused. I did not want to leave the comfort of my home nor the warmth and love of my family, just to sit and fuss over a woman I hadn't seen in six years, who had no doubt changed since we'd last met.
It was a pity Mama had other ideas.
Knowing I would later regret this, I sighed. "Very well, Mother, I will go to Paris," I said. "Will I need new clothes, do you think?"
Mama's face lit up at that. "Oh, yes, my dearest, we must get you new things. I cannot have you walking about Paris in those out-of-style dresses."
As she continued to talk about what I would need to buy and take on my visit, I exchanged glances with Papa. He gave me a sympathetic look, knowing that I had merely given in to appease my mother; she would never allow a subject to rest if she could help it.
Glancing down at my hands, I prayed that my stay in Paris would not have to be that long.
"Oh, no, Leah, you cannot wear that gown!" Christine admonished me as she took the dress from my hands and tossed it to a waiting maid. "That would go horribly with mine, and we must not clash that way."
I bit back an angry retort and simply held my tongue between my teeth. I had been in Paris for little more than a week, and already I wanted to return home to my parents. Even Madame Giry in her worst mood would be preferable to this.
Expecting a warm welcome from an old friend, I received the shock of my life upon reaching the large de Chagny house. Instead of being greeted as equals, the moment we were seated in the parlor, Christine declared that she wished for me to attend her and keep her company while Raoul was away.
"He is often out of town or out of the country on business, you see, and I can be rather lonesome at times," she said while we sipped our tea. "I want you to stay here and be a constant companion to me whenever I go out."
So there it was. I was not here as a friend, but rather an attendant to someone who had once done the same for me. It was rather ironic, really, and I thought it rather petty on Christine's part, but dared not protest. After all, I was here as a foreigner, and if I were to be thrown out of her house, I had no where to go. The money Papa had given me was minimal, and would not be enough to put me up in a hotel for very long, which I would have to do while trying to find a way back home. I was at the mercy of Christine, and dared not anger her for risk of shaming me or my family in the process.
Reaching out to accept the gown she had chosen for me, I made a note to write home and ask for the money to return home as soon as possible. Papa would not refuse me, not after he read my letter and learned what Christine's invitation was really about. All I would have to do was bear it for another two weeks or so, and then I would be on my way home.
Once Christine was satisfied with how I was to dress, she left with a cheerful smile for her own room to ready herself. Alone at last, I pulled on the crème gown with a sigh of relief, thankful she was gone. Now dressed and corseted, I set myself before the vanity mirror and motioned for the maid do my hair.
"But no more of those awful styles you did yesterday," I told her. "I don't care what the Vicomptess wants, it is my hair, and I will wear it as I see fit. Just put it up into the classic bun and make sure that the ends curl properly."
The maid nodded nervously and began to work. I kept a close eye on her as she combed, curled, brushed, and pinned up my straight brown locks. Yesterday, as I readied for a party we were to go to, I had discovered that Christine had ordered my maid to try and make my hair look as strange and foreign as possible, thereby making her look more elegant and French while making me look the silly foreigner. Thankfully, I had caught on quickly before I could be made a laughing stock of Paris.
"Where are we going tonight?" I asked the maid.
Already we had been to two parties and a ball, far more excitement than I usually saw back home. I much preferred the quiet of the castle, and dreamed of it often. Lately, the dreams resembled my memories of happier times, when a masked face often found mine and made me smile.
Raising my hand to my neck, I fingered the silver chain that held the wooden locket with the red rose carved into it. Christine had told me to take it off, saying it looked so crude that a lady should be ashamed of wearing it.
"You've been wearing it for years, Leah, ever since you were sixteen-years-old," she said. "You are no longer a child and must put on something more befitting your station."
I told her that it was from a childhood friend, and her eyes glinted in distain. "From that deformed boy, you mean," she guessed. "Leah, why would you want a remembrance of him when you could have so many handsome noblemen at your feet?"
Christine then proceeded to tell me that I was not getting any younger, and that I should be focused on marrying and begetting children. Angry, I coldly told her that she understood nothing and left the room, not caring if she was angry at me in turn.
"It is the theater today, Mademoiselle," the maid stuttered out. "There is a grand illusionist there, newly arrived in Paris, and it is said that he possesses amazing powers."
Hmm, perhaps tonight would not be dull after all. Thus far, I had been subject to several dull evenings, but if this was an illusionist, it was bound to be amusing, even if he were terrible and his tricks obvious.
The maid leaned closer. "They say that he also wears a mask," she whispered before giggling and returning back to her work.
Oh, masked magicians were so commonplace these days, the men behind them wanting to keep their private and public identities a secret so that they would not have to beat off those trying to discover the secrets of their tricks. Or perhaps it was to fight off the more fanatical ones who wanted to see if the magician truly had magical powers or not.
Finally, my hair was done, and it was in a more fashionable and elegant style. I smiled at the idea of Christine having to live with my looking the proper Baron's daughter tonight.
Chuckling to myself, I took a shawl from the maid and went downstairs to the carriage.
For the entire ride to the theater, I heard a great deal more than I wanted to know about the illusionist we were going to see. Apparently Christine admired him and desired to see him more than any other performer on stage. She had even followed his work throughout the world by reading the local papers and listening to the gossip of her friends.
"He calls himself The Phantom," she chatted excitedly. "For some reason, he wears a mask over his face, and some say it is because he is so handsome, women would faint or weep at the sight of such beauty. Others say that he is terribly deformed, but how could that be when he looks so attractive with the mask?"
I listened as Christine babbled on and on about how talented, astounding, and brilliant this Phantom was. From the way she spoke, however, I knew that she had never seen him herself, or she would be gloating about it. Since she was not, I took it to mean that Christine merely longed for the experience of seeing the infamous magician and left it at that. Whether he lived up to his reputation or not was yet to be seen.
When the carriage pulled to a stop, we were both handed out of the carriage and joined the throng of audience members heading inside. An usher led us to our seats near the front along the aisle, and we seated ourselves just as the lights were dimming in the auditorium and the stage lights flared as the curtain went up.
Suddenly, there was movement, as though a shadow were walking forward on the stage to approach the audience. I watched breathlessly as the shadow seemed to shift, then vanished, revealing a man in black evening attire, a black cloak, and black mask covering the top half of his face.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he said in the smoothest, most musical voice I had ever heard.
The audience burst into applause and he bowed. When he rose, a flock of ravens flew out from his cape, causing people to gasp, cry out, or openly stare in amazement. Applause sounded once the audience had recovered itself.
I watched in amusement and astonishment as The Phantom made objects float, fly, disappear in midair, or shrank them down to fit in the palm of his hand. There were many cries and exclamations of shock at what he was doing, but I found it a wonderful night of entertainment that had me eager for more of his tricks.
"And now I require a volunteer," The Phantom announced. "Anyone at all, male or female."
While I was content to remain where I was, Christine, it seemed, had other plans. She immediately waved at the illusionist, and once she had his attention, to my horror, she then motioned towards me.
"Christine, what are you doing?" I hissed subtly through the corner of my mouth.
"Oh, don't be prudish, Leah," she said with a smile. "A woman of my position in society cannot be seen up there, Raoul would never forgive me. You, however, are another story."
The Phantom bowed to me and held out his hand. "Mademoiselle, if you please?"
Forcing a small smile onto my lips, I stood and moved towards the steps leading up to the stage. One of the ushers was there to meet me, and handed me gently up to the top, where I proceeded to the side of the mysterious magician.
"Now, remain there, if you please," he said before motioning to someone offstage.
Three gentlemen immediately came forward, two with an easel and one with a canvas.
"May I position you accordingly?"
Not having a choice, I nodded and stood still as he slowly approached me, stopping merely a foot away. With an elegant movement, he wrapped his long fingers around my shoulders and directed me into place.
Looking up at his masked face, I felt my heart stop at the sight of dazzling green eyes, the likes of which I had not seen for over ten years.
"Erik?" I whispered in disbelief.
AN: Longer chapter next time, I promise! Please don't forget to review! Thanks!
