Angel: I think this chapter is kind of cute... But some may find it slightly dull... D'ah well!
25. Two Worlds, One Family
Eli lay awake in bed. The coldness of his lair was harsh, but the warm velvet sheets and heavy woollen blanket kept him warm.
But nothing warmed him as much as the woman who lay beside him.
Eli rolled over on his side and silently watched his wife. Rose's blonde ringlets were spread out across her pillow like an angel's wings. Her lovely lips were slightly parted. One hand lay daintily on her chest while the other rested up beside her face. On her ring finger, the golden wedding band he had given her glinted in the dim light.
Eli was distracted from admiring her when he felt a weight on his stomach.
"Papa!" a two-year-old girl giggled.
"Little Erika," Eli smiled as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. "Now, what do I always tell you?"
"Oh, yeah," the girl said sheepishly. She grabbed the blankets off Eli's chest and threw them over her head. "Ghosts are never seen," she said, her voice muffled by the blankets.
Eli reached up and pulled the blankets off her head. "But I think we can forgive you," he smiled. "After all… you are such a cute ghost!"
Erika smiled and threw her arms around his neck. Eli's daughter truly was an angel in his eyes. She had her mother's golden hair and porcelain skin. Her eyes were clear blue, like his own.
Eli even saw a bit of his father in her, for the right side of her face was slightly deformed. Though it was pale in comparison to Erik's deformity, it was still a rather unsightly blemish. Her eyes were mismatched, one being larger and slightly lower than the other. One side of her nose turned up just a little. Beneath her eye was a small patch of blotchy red skin. But, despite this abnormality, Eli and Rose knew that her differences were not so great that she would not be accepted by the world. It was the dawn of the twentieth century. People were not as prejudiced as they used to be.
What really made the difference was the love and care Erika received from her parents and grandparents. Through them, she learned that true beauty lies within one's heart, not the outward appearance.
Rose stirred in her sleep. She opened her eyes, looking over at her husband and daughter, and smiled.
"Up now, Lady Phantom," Eli grinned. "This theatre won't haunt itself."
The family got up and dressed. While Rose fixed her hair, Eli crouched by the shore of the lake. He casually glanced around the lair. His father had helped him build this place when he was eighteen. It gave him and Rose the freedom to begin their lives as newly weds, but it was always nice to know that family was just down the cavern.
Eli looked up when Rose came to stand beside him. Her blonde ringlets were pulled back from her face and she was wearing a mask – a requirement for her new status in life.
"How do I look?" she asked with a seductive smile on her face.
Eli stood up and took her hand. "Absolutely beautiful." He put on his own mask and cloak. "Erika!" he called. "It's time to go!"
Erika came running as fast as her short legs would carry her. "Can I haunt, too?" she begged.
"No not yet," Eli said, lifting her into the boat. "Not until you're older. You're going to stay with Grandpère and Grandmère le Fantôme today… You always like staying with them…"
"And if you're good," Rose said, "Grandpère and Grandmère de Chagny will take you out to dinner tonight."
As Eli poled the boat through the caverns, Erika began begging her mother for a story.
"Tell me about the ghost who fell in love with the angel!" she demanded, tugging at Rose's skirts excitedly.
Rose took the girl into her lap. "That story will take longer to tell than just one boat ride," she smiled.
"We're here," Eli said as the hull of the boat made contact with the rocks that formed the foundation of the home he had grown up in.
Erik was seated at his organ. Upon hearing the arrival of his son's family, he stood up and walked over to the lakeshore to meet them. His black hair now housed several silver streaks, but he still moved with all the dignity and grace that the former Phantom of the Opera should possess.
"Eli… Rose…" he greeted them in turn.
"Grandpère!" Erika squealed as she leapt from the boat. Erik knelt down and opened his arms to her. She ran to him and he scooped her up.
"And how is my little angel?" he asked her. "Keeping out of trouble?"
"We'll be back to pick her up around noon," Eli said. "I trust that won't be a problem?"
"Certainly not," Erik said. "It's actually rather nice to have a child around here again."
"Then we must bid you good day, Father," Eli said with a nod. He was about to push off from the shore when another voice echoed through the caverns.
"Fanny? Erik? Fanny!"
"Madame Romard?" Erik furrowed his brow. "Odd. We weren't expecting her."
Within moments, another boat appeared in the lair. Meg Romard was poling as fast as she could, breathing heavily from her effort. With her was the last man Erik had expected to see in his home.
"Monsieur Burford?" Erik said as Albert jumped from the boat onto dry land. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his sweaty brow.
"I'm sorry I had to appear unannounced," Albert panted. "Madame Romard was kind enough to bring me here. I must speak with Fanny. It is urgent!"
"Albert?" Fantine stepped from the sitting room when she heard his voice. "What are you doing here?" she asked.
Albert turned to her. "Fanny… I'm here on behalf of Elijah Chalifoux…"
Fantine looked shocked. "My father?"
"He is here, Fanny… Right here in Paris!"
"But…" she said quietly. "How can that be? He began living in London after Maman died. He sent me to train in the ballet dormitories soon after. I haven't seen him since I was a girl!"
"You don't understand, Fanny," Albert said. "Your father is dying…"
Fantine's breath left her all at once. "Dying? Papa?" She could barely take it all in. To learn that her father was back in Paris, after all these years, but on his deathbed? She put a hand on the nearest wall to steady herself, for fear that her knees would give out.
"It's leukemia," Albert said softly. "He came here a month ago so he could die in his city of origin. He hired me to help him finalize his will."
"Did you tell him about me?" Fantine whispered.
"I have not," Albert said. "I didn't feel it was my place. He believes you are dead, Fanny. You have been missing for so long." Albert took a step towards her. "He has very little time left. He misses you very much. I thought… perhaps… you might like the chance to say good-bye…"
"I don't know if I can!" Fantine cried. "To see him after all these years… only to lose him again?"
"Fantine," Erik spoke, putting Erika down. "Think about this…" He moved over to where she stood and gathered her trembling form against himself. "If you pass this opportunity up, you will not get another chance to say good-bye to him… You will not get another chance to hear his voice…" He looked into her eyes. "You will not get another chance to tell him that you love him…"
"I know you're right…" she whispered into his chest. "I just miss him so much…"
"I know you do," he said as he gently stroked her hair. "But you will not be alone… We'll all go with you… We'll be there for you…"
Fantine nodded and turned to look at Albert. "Take me to him…"
XxXxX
Albert ushered Erik, Fantine, Eli, Rose, and Erika into a grand home.
"Your father had not wished to be kept in a hospital during his last days," Albert explained. "He took up residence in this house and there are nurses attending him at all hours of the day. His room is on the second floor."
Erik glanced around the house as Albert led them up a winding staircase. "Your father seems well-to-do," Erik commented.
Fantine was purposefully quiet. Erik glanced at her. Why did she look so withdrawn all of a sudden?
Albert stopped before a large oak door. "This is his room. I'll send the nurse out. Wait here."
Albert entered the grand room. Sunlight poured in through a picture window on one wall. An expensive, spotless carpet covered the floor. In a large bed lay the ailing Elijah Chalifoux. His illness had made the old man painfully thin. His wrinkled skin was pasty white in colour, almost blending in with the white of his hair and beard. Yet his dark eyes remained bright and alert as he watched the man who entered his room.
"Burford," Chalifoux said in a voice that had once been powerful and commanding, now weak and strained. "I have not seen you in days! I was almost certain our next meeting would see me in a pine box!"
"You mustn't be so morbid, Monsieur," Albert said. "I told you I'd help you get your affairs in order, and I will."
"Well, do get on with it, Burford!" Chalifoux urged him. "I don't exactly have a lifetime to wait for you…"
"Indeed," Albert said. He turned to the nurse. "Nancy? Would you care to leave us, please?"
"Yes, Monsieur," the young woman curtsied. Then she made her way out of the room.
"Now, about my fortune," Chalifoux began. "I'm leaving a portion to you for your services. A third is to be divided up evenly among my employees. Another portion will settle my debts. The rest can go to charity, for all I care!"
"Are you certain of that, Monsieur?" Albert asked. "Have you no friends? No family to leave something to?"
"I have no friends," Chalifoux said miserably. "And all of my family are long dead. I may have been an important figure in my lifetime, Burford… But you can be sure that no one will be at this old dog's funeral…"
"Not even your daughter?" Albert asked. "Fantine?"
A look of pain passed over Chalifoux's features. "My dear little Fanny… You always speak of her as though she were alive today, Burford. But you are wrong. My Fanny is dead. It has been too long…"
"Are you certain?" Albert asked. "No one ever really knew what happened to her. She simply disappeared."
"I wish it were so," Chalifoux said. "I've prayed every night for one last chance to see my little girl… But there comes a time when one must face the truth…"
Albert stood silent for a long time. "I have brought someone to see you, Monsieur," he said as he headed for the door.
Chalifoux looked annoyed. "What now? Another clergy? I stopped believing in God's mercy years ago!"
"Maybe this will change your mind," Albert said. He opened the door and ushered in Fantine and her family.
Chalifoux's eyes widened. "Marie?" He blinked at the masked woman several times, then shook his head. "Forgive me, Madame… It's just… even with that mask, you seem to remind me so much of my wife!"
Fantine gazed with loving eyes upon the wasted form of her father. This man before her used to raise her onto his shoulders when she was a girl. He used to tell her stories and sing to her. He had been her hero, and she had been his angel. Overcome with emotion, Fantine choked out a sob.
"Dear Madame, why do you cry?" Chalifoux asked.
Fantine knelt by the old man's bedside, taking one of his hands into hers and kissing it. "I have missed you so much, Papa…" she whispered.
"Papa?" he furrowed his brow, scrutinizing the woman before him. Then it hit him. Her eyes were his. Her hair was her mother's. She looked at him and offered the smallest of smiles… it was just like his own!
"My Fantine!" he cried out. Fantine put her arms around her father and hugged him, kissing his cheeks. She felt his warm tears against her lips. He pulled back from her.
"But how? Where have you been? Why the mask?" The questions tumbled from his mouth like an avalanche.
"Please," Fantine silenced him. "I'll tell you everything, in time." She glanced at the floor, looking a little ashamed. "But I am not your beautiful little girl anymore, Papa… I have changed…"
"Your mask," Chalifoux said urgently. "Take off your mask. Let me see you."
Trembling, Fantine raised a hand and lifted the mask from her face. Chalifoux gasped, taken off guard by the sight of his daughter's face. But then he raised a shaky hand and tenderly caressed her scarred cheek.
"My darling Fanny… How did this happen?"
"Patience, Papa, I will tell you… But I have important people for you to meet…" Fantine stood up and held a hand out to Erik. He came forward and stood beside her. "This is my husband… His name is Erik…"
"Husband?" Chalifoux whispered, a smile lighting his face as tears flowed freely down his cheeks. "My little girl is married?"
Little Erika had grown curious of the man who was lying so still on the bed before her. She toddled forward and peeked at him from behind Fantine's skirts.
"Why're you crying?" she asked the old man innocently.
"Because I am so happy," he told her. "Who are you?"
"This is Erika," Fantine told him. "Your great-granddaughter."
Chalifoux's eyes sparkled. "You had children?"
Fantine nodded, turning to Eli and Rose, who still stood behind her. She gestured for them to come closer. When they stood beside her, Fantine turned back to her father. "Papa, this your grandson, Elijah…"
"Elijah," the old man whispered. "You named him after me?"
"I always told you I would name my first son after you, didn't I?"
"You were three years old when you made that promise!" Chalifoux exclaimed. "I never thought you would remember!"
"And of course," Fantine continued, "this is Eli's wife… Rose…"
Chalifoux took in the five figures before him. "All these years," he whispered. "Fanny… Your family is positively the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in this lifetime…"
Albert stepped forward. "Now, Monsieur le Comte… are you sure you don't want to make a few revisions to your will?"
Erik stared at Fantine. "Comte? Your father is a Comte?"
Fantine looked sheepish. "Did I forget to mention that when we were exchanging vows?"
"You're an heiress?"
"Soon to be very rich heiress," Chalifoux said with a smirk. He looked back at Albert. "I hope you don't mind settling on a smaller portion, Burford."
Albert smiled. "The original portion was far too large, dear Comte… It's not a problem."
"Good… and my employees will have to settle for a smaller portion, as well…" The old count looked up at his daughter. "Fantine and her family shall get the rest."
Fantine looked to Erik. "What on earth are we going to do with all that money?"
Erik hugged her close. "It's obvious… Eli and Rose shall get half, and do with it whatever they want… You and I shall use our portion to buy a home in the country, just as you used to dream! We'll get away from this city, away from all the people… We can have a quiet life, far away from here…"
"But, Father!" Eli cried. "You… you're going to leave the opera house? You're going to leave Rose and I?"
Erik turned to his son. "Eli, your mother and I have lived beneath the opera house for too many years, hiding from the world… Your mother has desired a life beyond those caves for many years now… I denied her for too long, telling her that you weren't ready for us to leave the theatre completely in your care, just yet… But you are a man, a husband, and a father now… I believe you are ready… Ready for your mother and I to let you go…"
"I… I'm not!" Eli cried. "How can I carry on without you? You have always been there! I'm not ready for you go!"
Erik sighed, placing a hand on Eli's shoulder. "You are ready… even though you think you are not… You have held my title for several years now… You do not need me to help you anymore… I have taught you all that I know, and you have surpassed me… You have become a better man and Phantom than I will ever be…"
"No, you're wrong," Eli said, tears falling from his eyes now. "I can't do it without you… It's too hard!"
Erik looked upon his son with pity. "Que est-ce que je peux dire, mais cela n'est-il pas facile? Je ne peux pas soulever les pierres hors de votre sentier, et je ne peux pas pleurer vos larmes amères pour vous. Je veux si je pourrais, mais nous ne sommes pas un… Vous et moi… Enfant de mon corps… Os de mon os… Prunelle de mon oeil…"
"Eli…" Fantine said. "I have longed for the fields and meadows of my childhood for so long, now… I want to see the summer flowers… the winter snow… I want to feel the sunshine on my skin in a land where your father and I don't have to hide our faces… Freedom, Eli… We want freedom…"
"You're really going, aren't you?" Eli said sadly. "I'll never see you again…"
"That's not true, Eli," Fantine said. "Your father and I will visit you often… We will be together again…"
"And no matter the distance, my son," Erik said, "you know we'll always be with you… In you memories… And in your heart."
"Fanny?" Chalifoux rasped. Fantine went to sit by his side.
"Yes, Papa?"
"Won't you tell me, now?" he whispered. "Tell everything… from the beginning…"
Fantine took his hand. "Papa? Remember the stories you used to tell me before I went to sleep at night?"
Chalifoux nodded, smiling at the memories.
"I have a story for you, now," she said. "Only this one isn't about faeries or nymphs… And it's not about princes, dragons, dark wizards, or enchanted kingdoms… It's about a little boy, who was shamed into solitude… It's about a girl who learned how to live…" Fantine glanced at Eli and Rose. "And it's about a ghost who fell in love with an angel…"
Fantine began her story, and Chalifoux listened with wide eyes. He laughed at the amusing parts and cried at the sad parts. He listened, his eyes never leaving Fantine, as she told the story… beginning to end… When she finally finished, he took her hand.
"My dear," he smiled. "That was the story of ages… Legends will grow from it… It will change over time… But never let your grandchildren forget…"
"I promise, Papa," she whispered. "We will never forget…"
Chalifoux looked over at Erik. "And you," he said with the ghost of a smile on his lips, "you had better take care of my little girl… Or I shall rise up from my grave and haunt you, Monsieur le Fantôme… Protect my daughter always…"
Erik smiled softly and slipped an arm around Fantine's waist. "You have my word… I will always take care of her… Until my dying day…"
XxXxX
Erik said a quote by Rosalie Sorrels in French in this chapter. This is the translation:
"What can I say, but that it's not easy? I cannot lift the stones out of your way and I can't cry your bitter tears for you. I would if I could, but we're not one… You and I… Child of my body… Bone of my bone… Apple of my eye…"
Angel: I know aristocrats weren't into the Arts! But I don't care, because this is my story and I can do whatever I want! Muhahahaha!
Erik: You're a looney.
Fantine: Ha! I'm rich, so that makes me better than everyone! BOW TO ME!
Erik: Shut up, wench.
Fantine: You can't tell me what to do, you chauvanistic pig!
Angel: Hey, lovebirds? Tone it down.
Erik: (mutters) Wench...
Fantine: (whispers) Pig...
Angel: REVIEW!