Thank you so much to Pensez-a-Erik, SloaneDestler, Phantomgirl24, lindaweng, phanrose, peanutpup, EvaLark, Pip and CO, Mominator124, and the guest for the lovely reviews! Thank you everyone!

Note: Due to the fact that I decided to have given Papa Daae new clothes and a bath by the time Christine sees him, I changed the word "bedraggled" to "thin" in Ch. 80 :)

Enjoy!


Christine

Chapter 82

The Reunion

My father's exhausted eyes widened as he took me in, his lips agape and trembling on his yellow-bearded face - he was normally clean-shaven with a mustache. As I looked at him, I knew that my own expression mirrored his. That he felt the same incredible shocking relief as me.

He stood, slowly. His clothes, I noticed, were not his own, but seemed to be Nadir's. And his hair appeared slightly damp. He swallowed. "Christine," he whispered. His arms opened.

I didn't hesitate. I ran straight into them, sobbing the moment they were around me. I wanted to speak, to say any word at all, but my throat had tightened in the most wonderful sort of way. My father was here.

He was here.

Which meant that Ibrahim was right - he hadn't written back. No, he'd found out where I was and came for me himself.

My Papa had come to rescue me.

I felt him shaking as he held me. "Christine," he said again, holding back tears. "My Christine - I found you."

"Papa-" I started, but fresh cries came forth in place of words, and at the sound, he started crying too.

Somewhere near or far away, I heard Nadir's soft voice: "We shall give you some privacy." I heard three sets of footsteps exit the room, leaving my father and me alone. At some point, he lowered us down to sit on the couch, never removing his arms from around me.

"I thought you were dead for the longest time," he said, putting a hand now on the back of my head. "When I received the letter-"

"I thought you died, too." I buried my face in his chest. "They told me you were dead."

"Who did?"

"My captors."

His grip tightened. "Monsieur Khan told me the reason you were brought here." His tone had darkened fractionally. "He said that nothing actually...that nobody..."

"No one hurt me. Not in the way you are thinking."

He froze. "In...in another way? Did somebody-"

"No. No, nobody hurt me. In any way." I could have mentioned that, emotionally, I'd been torn asunder more than several times. But I would keep it to myself.

He relaxed. "Good."

As the initial surprise died, it was replaced with warmth. Nothing but warmth. I merely melted into his arms now.

"I have so many questions," he whispered. "All these months, the life you've been living-"

"What has Nadir told you?"

"Only that you were spared from a worse fate; that you are currently taking up residence with the Grand Vizier, a man who has no intention of touching you, as I was assured. That's all."

So-

So then he knew nothing of Erik.

I thought of everything that Erik had done, everything that had transpired between us. I thought of how Erik proposed marriage to me. I flushed, wondering how on Earth I would explain any of that to my father. Wondering if he would even remotely approve.

A knock sounded at the door. I heard it creak open, and then Ibrahim's voice. "I apologize for interrupting," he said, and I at last, begrudgingly, pulled away to look at the Grand Vizier, "but the Daroga has informed me that supper is ready, should you care for it." He looked at my father. "It is my understanding that you have not eaten in a while."

I heard my father's stomach growl. He nodded, eyes hungry. He looked at me. "Have you eaten?"

"She hasn't - not really." Ibrahim smiled. "There is enough for her."

My father stood. "Good." I stood as well, and he said: "I don't believe we have met."

"We have not." Ibrahim bowed his head. "I am Ibrahim Jahandir, Grand Vizier to the Shah of Persia."

The eyes of my father held a sudden expression of wonder and fear as he bowed, lowly, before Ibrahim. "I wasn't - I did not know! Forgive me..."

"Oh, no, no. Please." Ibrahim ushered him up with a gesture of his hands. He looked at me with an amused smile, and I couldn't help smiling in return. "I appreciate it, but no. It is quite all right. Think of me as another man - forget any titles. I should have said nothing."

My father stood again, looking dazed. "I apologize. I merely - I am not accustomed to speaking with royalty."

"Good, because I am not royalty. I advise royalty. Come. Food awaits."


I sat next to my father at the table, Ibrahim across from us. Nadir was at the head. I'd asked after Reza, but Nadir informed me that he was already in bed.

As we settled ourselves in our seats, veal dishes were placed in front of us.

I actually ate this time. My appetite had returned.

He consumed the food in silence. As did I, comfortable in his reassuring and familiar presence, merely happy that he was here, alive. I tried to avoid Nadir's piercing gaze as he stared at us with an unreadable expression.

Ibrahim was eating as well, despite the fact that this would be his second meal tonight. And, apparently, he did not like the wordless table.

"If only Erik were here," he mused, lifting a fork and examining his meat, "and it would be a true party, yes?" He put the food into his mouth.

My father raised a single blond brow. "Erik?"

Ibrahim nodded. Nadir's uncanny expression turned curious as he watched my father.

"Oh, yes," the Daroga said, "I never did mention him, did I?"

"Who is Erik?"

Nadir nodded to me. "That is a question for your daughter."

I reddened, lowering the fork I currently held, as my father looked at me. "Erik is who I was given to, but-"

"Given to," he repeated lowly. "As in-"

"Yes. But he never acted on it. He's been...he's been a gentleman." And, right now, I wouldn't say more than that.

He did not seem to be satisfied with only this, but at my flushed expression, he understood my need to drop it - not without a warning look that told me that we'd certainly be discussing this later.

"How long ago did you receive the letter, Monsieur Daae?" inquired Nadir, then. I looked across the table at Ibrahim, who was looking at me with understanding. He too knew what it was to hide a secret lover.

"A little over three months ago," he replied. "It was signed as anonymous, but there was a return address - here - so I packed immediately. It took me that long to make the journey. I should have arrived sooner, but I had my fair share of run-ins with thieves along the way. I ran out of money quickly, and ended up having to stop in some cities for several nights in order to play for change. I hadn't been sure if bringing my violin was a smart move, but I am glad that I did. I also became quite ill around the time I hit Constantinople, so that cost me about two weeks as well." He gave a small sound that sounded like a cross between a chuckle and a sigh, glancing between Ibrahim and me. "Monsieur Khan can attest to my utter lack of funds or energy by the time I arrived at this house. That letter, really, was the only thing keeping me going. It's still in my pants pocket upstairs - thank you again, Monsieur, for the room." He nodded to Nadir, who smiled and nodded back.

My heart contracted. He'd endured all of that - hunger, sickness, temporary poverty - for me. To come and get me.

Ibrahim spoke what was in my chest. "You must love your daughter greatly."

"I do," he said, turning back to me. His blue eyes matched mine in color and feeling: he could not quite believe I was here with him, that he'd finally reached me. "I love her more than anything. And I love her more than anyone ever will." He reached for my hand, a warm smile on his face. "That is a promise."

I felt Ibrahim's and Nadir's eyes on me then. I chanced a glance at the two men, and the moment I did, they shared a knowing look.

I willed them to stay quiet.