Chapter Twenty One: Who Will Marry A Monster?

November 5th, 1910, 4:40pm

I lay in the Opera Ghost's arms and stared at him for a moment, "yes..." I whispered, breathlessly, he turned an ear towards me and asked me what I said, "yes, I do...yes!" I cried, throwing my arms around him.

"Yes, you do...what?" Asked he with a sly smile, I smiled from ear to ear.

"Yes, I want to be your living, loving wife" said I, excitedly; the Opera Ghost smiled and he hugged me as tightly as he could. Our friends stood before us in utter confusion; I turned and smiled to them, sitting up on my fiancé's lap. "We're getting married" said I, looking from the Opera Ghost to Victoria and Megan and then to Mamma, lastly to the Persian. Victoria squealed and hugged Megan, who was jumping for joy; Mamma ran to me and hugged me whilst the Persian shook the Opera Ghost's hand. That's when I remembered the horrid fate of Gerard, I looked up to Mamma and then to the Persian; Mamma asked what the matter was and slowly, I told her.

Tears filled Mamma's eyes and she slowly sat in a wooden chair, she sighed and nodded "don't fret, sweet child, I will see him soon; and when a life is taken, a life is given. In exchange for Gerard's life, you will have a child, Elizabeth." Mamma's tears were gone and she patted my hand, I smiled and with my other hand I grasped my fiancé's hand. The Opera Ghost brought my hand to his lips and softly kissed the top, smiling as he did so; in staring at my fiancé a thought came to mind. What were we going to do about the Vicomte?

This question I asked the Opera Ghost, he sighed "I will return to the Opera Populaire, along with the Daroga, and no one else. I cannot risk what is most precious to me.." said he, tenderly touching my cheek; I smiled.

"But, I'll be worried!...Promise me, Opera Ghost, promise me you'll come back alive! Promise me you'll come back and we'll be married! Promise me" I whispered, he smiled and softly kissed my lips.

"I do not just promise you, darling, I swear to you I will come back, alive, and I will come back bearing a priest who will marry us on the spot. Fret not, my angel of music, I will come back to you; and we will live in a little flat somewhere, and I will take you out on Sundays! During the weekdays I will keep you amused, for I am the very first ventriloquist, I also know many card tricks and things of that sort. I will give to you whatever you desire, Elizabeth, anything!" Said he, pulling me to him and kissing my cheeks, I smiled and hugged him.

With that, and a kiss to the forehead, the Opera Ghost and Persian left us in his little flat in the Rue de Rivoli. I ran to the window and watched as the Persian clambered into the hansom whilst my fiancé got into the driver's seat, pulled up his hood and they all started riding away.

Half an hour later...

"I can't take it anymore!" I cried, pacing about the Persian's flat, his servant, Darius joined us on the Persian's orders to make sure that we didn't try to go to the Opera Populaire.

"Calm down, sissy, they're probably having trouble getting a priest! There's not very many of them now-a-days that won't give the media all of your information!" Cried Victoria with a giggle. I sighed and fell down onto the Persian's bed, I, at once, stood again and began pacing. That's when there was a knock on the door; Darius quickly answered it and came back bearing a news paper. It was that evening's issue.

"There's a special bulletin! 'Margarita of the Opera Populaire to be Wedded' it reads!" Darius cried, I ran to him as he read it aloud "It says 'The Margarita of the Opera Populaire, Elizabeth de Chagny, is to be wedded this afternoon at Rue de Rivoli with the masked man everyone calls The Opera Ghost, apparently, he's not so ghostly after all. Earlier he called upon Father St. Michael to wed them, but the father politely declined! He says "I'm not going to wed a monster to a beautiful woman!";

The Opera Ghost has called on other priests since, but they have all given the same response. Who will help the unhappy couple? What priest in Paris would marry a monster to a lady of high standing? I, myself, pity this couple; if you would marry these two people, please, do so. It would mean the world to the beautiful Margarita; fret not, members of Paris, the Margarita Elizabeth will continue to sing at the Opera Populaire.

Maybe, just maybe she will have a child, and maybe her beautiful voice and legacy will be carried on through that child.' There you have it" Darius said, finishing the small article. I walked back to the window and looked out to see a small crowd gathering; I sighed and pleadingly looked to Darius.

"Please, Darius, let me go to my fiancé; if you cannot do that, at least, let me call upon a priest to help! No one will help if the Opera Ghost asks, but they may if I do. Please, Darius, please!" I cried, Darius stood and I kneeled down, placing my hands palm together, as if I was to pray; Darius sighed and Victoria ran beside me, along with Megan, and got into the same position as I. Darius sighed again and nodded; I hugged my sister and friend, all three of us stood and began to walk out when I looked to Mamma Giry.

She said she would stay behind, if the Opera Ghost and the Persian returned; I thanked her and Darius called a hansom, we all clambered inside and drove off in search of a willing priest. We reached a little white church, five miles from the Opera Populaire, and all four of us hurried inside to find a man in a brown robe crouched below a statue of Jesus with outstretched arms and upturned palms. This man was mumbling and from his neck I saw a silver cross on a necklace; the man sighed. "You come with a question, child" said he, sitting up but still facing the statue.

"Y-yes, I am Elizabeth de Chagny and my fiancé and I would like to be married, but, no one will marry us. He is the only thing that I live for, he means every-" I attempted to say, but the priest cut me off.

"I know, child, I know!" The priest shouted, turning and walking to me, and sighing. This priest was in his late seventies with white hair, dulled blue eyes, and wrinkled skin; but he wore a smile. "I will marry you to him; on one condition. He must tell you his real name; you cannot call him 'Opera Ghost' for the rest of eternity."

Said the priest; I quickly nodded and pulled him out of the church and pushed him into the hansom. Despite Darius's protests, the driver took us to the Opera Populaire, where there was a crowd gathered; I grasped the priest's hand and pulled him through the shouting people. Inside there was no less din; people everywhere, shouting, yelling, running about, it was a mad house! I started to call for my beloved, but the priest hushed me; "he cannot hear you, for, they are all in the cellars of the Opera House; he, the man you call 'the Persian' and the Vicomte Benjamin. We must hurry!"

Cried the priest, now grasping my wrist and pulling me towards the cellars with all speed; both he and I carried lanterns as the five of us ventured down to the house on the lake.