Chapter Twenty Two
A/N: Do you guys want some fluff? I think we all need some fluff. Enjoy a feel good chapter and thank you for the continued reviews!
Christine stood in Erik's warm embrace for quite some time. She shivered- the snow and icy wind finally chilling the girl through both her and Erik's cloaks.
"Come, we must get you out of the wind, Christine. I will not have my bride-to-be freezing before our wedding day." She heard the smile in his voice-the awe and wonder.
"I almost cannot believe it," she whispered, beaming up at him.
"No one is more surprised than me," Erik replied, placing a large, bony hand on the back of her head.
"I love you, Erik," Christine said softly, her words filled with tenderness.
"And I you Christine." He spoke again. "Now we really must get you warm."
Christine grinned playfully, placing a quick peck on the man's lips. "We do not necessarily have to go inside to get warm," the girl jested.
Erik laughed at the innuendo. "You little minx."
It took several more minutes before the pair managed to leave the rooftop.
The following day, Christine pulled Meg aside and told her of the engagement.
"Engaged!" Meg nearly shrieked before Christine bid her to hush.
"Yes, Meg. But we are keeping it a secret for now. There are still some things we must set right before marrying." The dangerous Persian man crossed Christine's mind not for the first time that day, but she opted not to confide her fears to her friend. Things would be alright, they had to be.
"Will I be your maid of honor?" Meg pressed, obviously excited.
"No one would suit the role better, Meg."
Nadir was pleased with news of the couple's impending engagement and offered the girl hearty congratulations.
"I never really believed Erik would ever marry." Nadir stated, sounding pleased. "But this is welcome news, Christine. I see how much he loves you. Do you promise to take care of him?"
"Yes, Nadir. I will care for him as long as he will have me," she smiled lightly.
"Ah. Then you will be watching over him for eternity," he jested, eliciting a sweet giggle from the girl.
"That would be just fine with me," Christine admitted, flushing happily.
The rest of the week was hectic, although Christine was so excited over her upcoming nuptials that nothing could upset her. The opening of Il Muto had been a success, and each night thereafter seemed to pull in a larger crowd. Of course, the ticket sales were only increased by the scandal Carlotta had created that first day. Many flocked to see the young soprano that had so upset the previous Prima Donna that fateful show. Overall, the opera house and all its inhabitants remained contented with how things were unfolding.
The following week after opening night Christine was removing her makeup in her dressing room, exhausted but contented by the show she had just put on. Everything was silent-pleasantly so-as the girl pulled a brush through her curls, fairly tangled from where they had been shoved under the Countess's wig. Meg had left to dinner with some of the other ballet girls. She had, of course, entreated Christine to come with them, but the new Prima Donna instead opted for a cozy night in with Erik. The man in question was not yet ready for her presence in his lair. Indeed, he had spoken of a surprise that he needed to prepare.
So she sat there waiting for him to call on her, humming happily while working through the knots in her hair.
"Christine, you must be wary," a woman's voice whispered desperately in her ear. Shocked, she dropped the brush to the floor and whirled around in her seat.
"Who is it?" The girl asked shakily, thrusting her hands in front of her body protectively.
"Christine! You must be careful!" Mama Valerius' voice rose anxiously in front of her.
"Mama? Careful of what? Mama!" She nearly shouted, chills running down her spine at the warning. Christine launched to her feet, anxiously awaiting the danger her dead guardian had promised. Nothing came. No footsteps. Nothing.
"Mama?" she whispered again, with no reply. Come, Christine. You are probably just tired. She struggled to reassure herself. The voice did not say anything further, so the girl began to relax slightly.
"He is coming," Mama Valerius' voice spoke again, a deep sorrow marring her gentle tone.
"Erik! Erik!" Christine shouted, shaken to her core. Never before had she heard Mama Valerius speak so much since she had passed. And now with these dire warnings-it was all too much and so very real.
"Erik, please!" Christine begged, stumbling towards the mirror and reaching her hands wildly in front of her person. When her fingers met the cool glass she began pounding, praying he would hear her. Finally, it slid open and she nearly fell forward, her descent only stopped by Erik's sturdy hands grasping her shoulders.
"Christine? Christine, what's wrong?" He demanded, anxiety creeping into his tone. She took a deep breath.
"I heard her again, Erik. She-she warned me. I think something terrible will happen," Christine choked out, shaking in her fiancée's arms.
"You heard your guardian?" He asked, sounding puzzled. She nodded. "I thought you haven't heard her in several weeks, Christine," he stated gently.
"I haven't. I thought it was all over, Erik," the girl trembled, feeling as if she may cry. He gathered her close, his arms tightening around her frame protectively.
"Hush, my dear. You must be exhausted from the shows-that is all. Let me take care of you," he insisted, already pulling her into the passageway.
She nodded. "Yes…maybe I am just tired," she replied wrapping her arms around his neck as they descended the stairs. And she could not deny her eyelids were already heavy with want of sleep. In truth, she had not gotten much in the past week-both from fretting over her engagement and from performing.
As the new Prima Donna, Christine had also been obligated to attend several soirees to promote Il Muto, often accompanied by the managers. Sometimes the parties were enjoyable, although she severely missed Erik's presence. And other times…other times she felt as if the Parisian nobility were gawking at her like some circus act.
They had taken to announcing her presence at said parties as the "Beautiful Blind Soprano." The managers now played on this; Meg notified her that the posters advertising the production introduced Christine as the "Blind Ingénue." Her friend had also noted the artists painted the girl's eyes to look rather glassy and glazed over, as if to exaggerate her disability.
"Surely your eyes do not even look like that, Christine," Meg had commented. "They are actually a very bright blue!"
"Why must they use my blindness as a gimmick, as if I cannot be blind and talented?" Christine had asked, hurt and angry at the exploitation.
"It brings in more money," Meg had replied somberly.
"Do you think they even like my voice at all?" Christine asked, feeling self-conscious.
"Your voice is the most beautiful voice in Paris, Christine. The managers are too daft to realize it alone could draw in a large crowd."
Indeed, it was a strange thing to be both cherished because of her blindness and scorned for the same disability. Perhaps it was akin to what the performing monkeys felt as they roamed the streets of Paris with their handlers, tiny accordions in hand. They were loved because they were a little marvel who entertained the masses, but also looked down upon because they were animals. Even with the status of Prima Donna, Christine felt as if she were no more but the Populaire's special pet.
Christine must have dozed in Erik's arms, for when she woke up she was being lowered delicately into her usual armchair.
"I'm sorry. I did not mean to fall asleep," she apologized, rubbing her eyes.
"There is nothing to apologize for, my love. Those managers have been running you ragged. If they want your performances to continue, they must stop dragging you to those awful soirees." He admonished.
Christine smiled. "I suppose it is what a Prima Donna must do," she replied. "They are not all bad, Erik. There are some very nice people there. Still, I wish you could come with me," she finished sounding sad.
"I am sorry," he spoke, his voice lowered. "I wish I could go out with you as a traditional fiancée would. I do not deserve you, Christine."
At the change in his tone Christine immediately reached for Erik's hand. "Erik, don't you ever think you don't deserve me! I know life has not been kind to you but I am telling you right now I am happy with everything you give me. I love you so very much. I am sorry if my words made you feel guilty in any way."
She finally felt the squeeze of his fingers on hers and relaxed a bit. There were many times when he needed reassurance. Christine always tried to offer it; she hated how doubtful he could be about her feelings sometimes. Of course he had been through much-she only wished he had experienced more kindness in his past; the thought of him being treated so cruelly made her heart ache.
Sensing he was placated, Christine spoke up unable to restrain the excitement in her voice. "So, darling, you said you had a surprise for me?" She smiled widely as she settled deeper into the armchair.
"So eager," he teased. "Yes, I do. Stay there, my love." His footsteps receded and the girl fidgeted with her hands in her lap, giddy.
Silence filled the space between them, only piquing her interest. And then she heard it.
The sweetest opening strings of a violin reached her ears and she gasped, clasping one hand over her mouth. Papa. The song itself was a Swedish lullaby her father used to play for her as a child when sleep would elude her. Memories flooded Christine.
The warmth of the fireplace. Mama's quilt draped over her shoulders. Papa humming softly along with his violin. Her small, untrained voice rising to join with the notes from her father's expert playing.
Christine smiled, tears pouring down her cheeks. She could not help herself and raised her voice in song as the sweet melody continued.
"Ensam går jag här och vankar,
Söker efter vännen min"
(I walk alone and wander here,
Looking for my friend.)
"Ensam går jag här och vankar,
Söker efter vännen min"
(I walk alone and wander here,
Looking for my friend.)
The girl thought of Mama Valerius, of Mrs. Bancroft, of Papa, of all who had left her as her soprano soared.
"Se, jag möter honom här,
Han, som är min hjärtans kär"
(Look, I meet him here,
He, who my heart holds so dear.)
Her thoughts turned to Erik, her darling, wonderful Erik. "He holds my heart so dear," Christine reflected, her chest feeling as if it may burst in adoration.
"Vill du såsom förr med mej
Svänga om I dansen säj?"
(Say if you will dance with me,
As you did before?)
Her voice cracked slightly on the last note as she became so overwhelmed with emotion. The lovely violin music continued until it faded on a final, joyful note. Christine knew she must look a sight-tears had been pouring from her eyes ever since Erik had begun. She let out another soft sob, her hand back over her mouth. During the time the girl had spent stifling another cry Erik had ended up in front of her.
"My dear, I did not wish to make you weep at my gift," the man spoke softly in his low tone.
She laughed, wiping at the wetness on her face. "Oh no, Erik. It was just so, so lovely. You-you reminded me of my Papa. He used to play that same song for me on his violin! And you played the instrument so beautifully…" Christine had to stop talking, sure if she said anything more she would burst into another set of tears.
"So you enjoyed it? I remember you telling me of the lullaby when we first met. You were humming it in the storage room as you sewed." He grasped her hand and held it tenderly.
"Yes, you asked me what song it was. I wondered why a ghost would need to know," she giggled at the memory.
"Ghosts can always expand their musical repertoire," he replied, echoing the same retort he had given her all those years ago.
Christine sighed. "Thank you, Erik. That was beautiful. I-I wish I could give you something so wonderful."
"You already have," he declared, his hand coming to rest on her throat, lightly brushing the chain her engagement ring hung on. The pair decided it was not yet the right time to make the engagement public and so for now the jewelry was worn as a necklace, the ring hidden beneath her clothes. Christine treasured its current place over her heart, knowing one day it would never leave her finger.
The girl reached up, finding his masked countenance. She smiled, slipping off the mask quickly and gently putting it to the side.
"I love you, Erik," she murmured while pulling him down to her level by his collar, their lips meeting immediately. He snaked his hands behind her shoulders, pulling her closer. She sighed against his lips, feeling completely safe and loved as he cradled her in his arms. To be with him was to truly be home.
The remainder of the production was a success and so closing night was bittersweet for Christine. She had enjoyed the merrymaking with the cast but was also sorely in need of a break. By the time she returned for the next opera she would be a married woman! The thought made her smile as she held hands with the characters next to her and bowed. The applause the company received was deafening, causing those beside her to laugh and embrace one another, sandwiching the girl in the middle.
The managers led the cast in a toast following the performance. Christine stood next to Meg, their arms linked affectionately, both holding a flute of champagne in their unoccupied hands.
"I know that Il Muto started off on rather unsteady ground," Firmin announced as he addressed the members of the Opera. The cast murmured at the understatement. All clearly remembered the abuse Christine had withstood at the hands of Carlotta.
"But I daresay this show has received even greater acclaim than Hannibal!" Monsieur Andre interrupted the wave of gossip.
"Indeed!" Firmin continued. "We would like to tell you all how proud we are! The show would not be the success it has been without all members working together so beautifully. And, we would like to propose a toast to Mademoiselle Daaé-the new Prima Donna! No doubt her career will only rise from here."
"To Christine!" Meg chimed in, causing the girl to flush and duck her head. The cast echoed Meg's declaration.
Christine beamed with gratitude. "Thank you all so much! You have all been so supportive of me during this time and I am truly thankful. The opera would be nothing without all of you!"
"Here, here!" A man shouted, causing a wave of cheery laughter followed by the clink of glasses as people sipped their drinks.
Both girls giggled, heady from the excitement of closing night and the prospect of a holiday with which to unwind. Meg squeezed the inside of Christine's arm knowingly, as if she could tell the girl was already thinking of her winter wedding. Christine laughed and kissed Meg on the cheek.
The managers began to speak again, although this time it was rather difficult to quiet the cast. One of the managers cleared their throat loudly until the chatter dissipated.
"There is just one more announcement we would like to make, and then of course you are all free to go and create mischief," Firmin said before the crowd muttered in good humor.
The man continued over the chattering. "In celebration of this incredible season at the Opera Populaire, We will be holding a New Year's Masquerade Ball! Invitations, of course, will be sent to all of you. You are expected to be present, dressed in your most interesting costumes. Most of our patrons will be there! If, it is of any incentive, there will be plenty of alcohol served for your consumption." The cast laughed at the bribery.
"Alright, that is all. Please, go and enjoy your holiday! We will begin preparations for the next production the week of January 20th. Thank you all again for your hard work!"
The company cheered again; many spoke of plans to attend parties that very night.
"Meg, Christine! Will you be going with us to the Le Procope? We are going to celebrate the end of the season!" one of the girls-Jammes-inquired of the pair.
"Oh that sounds fun! Christine?" Meg practically pleaded.
"I am not sure…" the girl replied, thinking of Erik in his lair, alone.
"Oh, come now! You need some time with the girls," Meg insisted, squeezing Christine's hand.
The girl thought for a moment. She had been spending a lot of time with Erik lately, not that she minded. But perhaps it would be good for her to celebrate with other ladies. Mama Valerius would have certainly encouraged it!
"Alright, yes that sounds like fun. I just have to go change." She finally declared. Meg squealed with delight.
"Perfect! We will be meeting in an hour. See you both there!" Jammes also sounded thrilled at the thought of the expanding party.
"Come, Christine! Let's go get you changed," Meg fussed, pulling the girl down the corridors until they entered her dressing room.
Christine called out softly for her fiancée. She had changed into more comfortable but still fashionable attire-clothing that was now appropriate for the Prima Donna. Her dresses as a costume girl had been entirely plain and mostly monochromatic-not that it mattered to the girl. However, during the run of Il Muto, the managers had encouraged her to upgrade her wardrobe to one more befitting of an opera star. Erik, for once, agreed with their suggestion and assisted her in acquiring new dresses.
"My dear, your last performance was even more brilliant than the first!" Erik declared, his footsteps could be heard approaching until he stopped to stand in front of her.
"Thank you, darling!" Christine grinned, running into his arms and embracing him tightly. "I could not have gotten so far without you," she murmured into his vest.
"You would be a star even without me. It is your destiny, my love," he replied, his long fingers massaging her scalp. She leaned into his embrace, rethinking her decision to attend the party later.
"Erik, Meg and I were invited to Le Procope by some of the cast members. They want us to celebrate the end of the season with them. Would that be alright with you?" She asked, suddenly timid.
"You do not need my permission to socialize, Christine. Although, I must admit, the thought of having you all to myself tonight is rather tempting," his tone shifted into something more seductive. She shivered.
"I do not want you to be lonely," she said softly.
"You are an angel." He chuckled. "I will be fine tonight. Besides, very soon you will be my bride and I will have even more claim to your time. No, go enjoy tonight with friends, Christine. You have earned it." She heard the adoration in his voice and smiled, tilting her face upwards.
"You are so wonderful to me, Erik," she exclaimed before planting a kiss on his masked cheek.
"Christine! Are you ready?" Meg pounded on the door, obviously eager to meet up with the others.
Christine laughed. "Just a moment!" The girl turned back to her fiancée. "There is just one more thing, Erik. The managers announced that they will be holding a masquerade ball to celebrate. I was wondering…if you would attend it with me. No one will know who you are since everyone will be wearing masks! Of course, it is okay if you don't feel comfortable, it's just that I would so greatly enjoy being with you for one night like that…" She rambled on, sensing the sudden stiffening in his muscles at her suggestion.
"Christine…I am not sure," she heard the reservation in his tone and could not prevent the disappointment from showing on her features. He paused before speaking once more. "It will make you happy if I attend?" His question was softly spoken.
She nodded, smiling widely. "Oh yes, Erik! I would love to go with you. But I understand if you don't feel safe," she quickly finished.
"I will go," he declared immediately, his voice stronger than it had been previously.
"Oh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Christine squealed, nearly jumping up and down in her excitement. He chuckled at her eager display and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.
"Now go, before Meg breaks down the door," he said as the knocking began anew. Christine giggled.
"Alright, alright. Meg! I am coming!" She yelled over her shoulder before turning back to face Erik.
"You have made me so happy, Erik!" She leaned up again to kiss his mouth, the only part of his face uncovered by his mask. He returned the affectionate act before breaking away.
"Go, now. Before I keep you here to myself." Although the statement was meant as a joke, a note of seriousness entered his voice.
Would it be so very wrong to stay then? Christine wondered before shaking her head and bidding him a final farewell. "Goodnight, Erik!"
"Goodnight, my love," he returned before she heard the mirror closing.
When the girl finally opened the door Meg was practically yanking her to the exit. "I am positively starving! You took forever," she admonished.
"Sorry, Meg. I just felt bad leaving him alone like that," Christine admitted.
"Your lover will be fine! Honestly, you two should not be left alone so much. What if you are to be with child before the wedding?"
Christine gasped and pinched her friend's arm. "Meg!"
"Oh, hush. Now let's go eat!" Christine tried to summon indignation but instead let out a bout of laughter. Meg joined in as the pair linked arms and hailed a cab.
"You really are too much, Meg," Christine admonished half-heartedly.
"Yes, and you love it!" Meg declared as the carriage lumbered to their destination.
The girl smiled and gave Meg's hand a quick squeeze. "Yes. Yes I suppose I do."