Chapter Thirteen:  The Return To The Opera (Down Once More)

Christine walked, head held high, into the Opera house, and straight to her dressing room, where she finally sighed and nearly collapsed in her dressing table chair.

The past two days of travel had definitely taken their toll, since Erik dared not stop, even for them to sleep the night before.  They made it a bit quicker than they had anticipated.  And yet, she couldn't find it within herself to be upset at that.

She was just so tired.  But she knew she had been seen entering the theatre, which meant she had to attend rehearsal, just as she had discussed with Erik earlier that morning.

"Christine Daae!"  Meg's voice rang sharp from the doorway.  "Do you realize how worried you had us, disappearing like that again!"

Christine bolted from her chair at the first sound of her friend's worried voice.  She walked over to the small girl, took her hands, and led her into the room, and motioned for her to sit on the other chair in the room.  Then, she turned, peered her head out the hallway, and satisfied no one was about, closed the door.

"I do hope you plan to tell me what is going on with you, Christine!  You've been disappearing more and more . . . Maman feared perhaps you'd been frightened away by the ghost!"

Christine chuckled at Meg's terminology for Erik.  "Oh Meg, really, you still believe there is a ghost?"

"Of course there is a ghost!  And you're not getting away from the question at hand so easily, Christine, where have you been?"

Christine's face lit up with all the happiness of the past few days, and she sat before her friend and grasped her hands,  "Oh Meg, the past two weeks have been so . . . so incredible, and it's so hard to explain, but I promised you that when the time came you would be the first to know, remember?"

"Yes, I remember,"  Meg answered quietly.  "You know, your Vicomte has been looking for you again.  He worried when you just up and disappeared, you know."

"Oh Meg, Raoul is not my Vicomte, he never was mine . . . he could have been but in my heart . . . Raoul is an old childhood friend, who at one time though I had once wished it to be more, I've realized in the past months that though he will always hold a place in my heart, it is the place of the brother I was denied."

"Oh Christine,"  Meg sighed sadly.

"Meg, there is no reason for you to find sadness at that, but I do have something to tell you.  That day you asked me what I was holding back, I couldn't answer because I needed to tell Raoul first that we could not be.  He needed to hear it from me first, and though I love you dearly, and know you would never break my confidence if I asked it of you, it was a matter of conscience that he know before you.  You do understand that, don't you Meg?"

"Of course I understand, but I don't quite understand what that has to do with where you've been."

Christine's face brightened again as she thought of the past two weeks . . . the time on the road, their short stay in Boscherville, and the warm welcome they'd had at Degardeau Cottage.  "Meg, I once told you about my teacher."

"Only that he had a voice like an angel, and that you'd never seen him face to face, but you hadn't said a word about him since the first time you disappeared."

"Yes, I know, and it was wrong of me, I agree.  I should have told you everything then and there, but Meg, I have met him, and . . . oh Meg, I can't describe it.  I knew there was something special about him when he started teaching me, but oh, getting to know him, to really know him, as a friend, and as a . . . Meg, there was a spark at first, and you know what they say about sparks, that they turn to fire."

"Oh Christine!"  Meg blushed, totally misunderstanding the meaning behind Christine's words.

Christine paused momentarily, and then the blush rose in her own cheeks as she realized what Meg's assumption was,  "Meg, oh no, not anything like that!  We haven't, I mean, he's been a perfect gentleman, but . . . well, we did kiss, but we never . . . oh, I've made a botch of this, haven't I?"

The blush receded from Meg's face, and she paled slightly,  "I shouldn't have assumed, I know you're not a light woman by any means, Christine.  Please, continue."

"Meg, I had imagined from time to time that he might have fallen in love with me, and at first, the thought frightened me.  I know it was because of the strength of my feelings for him, feelings I didn't understand at first, but Meg, I came to understand.  It was slow at first, this understanding, but when he asked me to marry him . . . I'd known by then that the love I felt for Raoul was a more simplistic kind, the kind you feel for a relation, and that this, what I feel for Erik, it's different."

"Erik?"  Meg questioned.  "I was wondering when you would get around to telling me his name."

"I'm sorry, for going on so.  Yes, his name is Erik, Erik Laramie, and Meg; we're to be married on Christmas day in Rouen.  And . . . oh Meg, I want you to be there."

Meg's face exploded into a smile.  "Oh Christine!"  She jumped up and enveloped her friend in a fierce hug.  "I would love to be there, you know that!  I'll have to ask Maman . . . but where would I stay?  Rouen is more than two days from Paris!"

"That would not be a problem, Meg, Erik's uncle lives in Rouen, and he's invited you and our other guest to stay at his home with him and his wife.  And if you like, if your Maman agrees, you can go with us when we leave, although we did promise to return in two weeks so that we could make sure the final details are ready."

"Then I shall ask Maman if I can go.  Will you be there with me when I ask her in case she should have . . . questions?"

"Of course I will, Meg."

"So when do I get to meet this Erik?"  Meg inquired.

Christine's blush rose, and she wondered just what Meg would say if she knew that Erik was indeed the Opera Ghost.  "I shall talk to him about it tonight."

"Will he be at the performance tonight?"

"He might be,"  Christine answered simply.

Meg studied Christine's face for a long moment, and saw the hidden truth behind her eyes.  "Christine, what is it about this Erik that has made you hide him so?"

Christine sighed, perhaps it would be best to at least give Meg a little warning about the identity of her future husband.  "Meg, Erik is . . . well, he's . . . he's a very sweet man, but he mostly keeps to himself, well, when he's not working, and he's generally a very private person, I'm honestly amazed at times that he's let me into his life as much as he has, but love does funny things to a person you know.  And he . . ."  she trailed off, and her voice dropped an octave,  "He wears . . . he's . . . oh bother.  He wears a mask because his face is scarred, but that really doesn't matter, does it?"

Meg smiled serenely,  "No, all that matters is what's in his heart, and if you can see past whatever horror of his face forces him to don a mask, then who am I to judge?"

Christine returned her smile.  "Just promise me one thing, please, when you meet him, don't mention the mask, please?"

"I shall contrive to be on my best behavior, Christine.  Now, should we go ask Maman now, or wait until after I can say I've met your Erik?"

Christine took in a deep breath,  "I'd say better now.  Perhaps, if she has an objection, I can talk to Erik about it if she'd like to meet him, although . . ."  Christine trailed off, wondering about all the mentions that Meg had made about the Phantom, and about the tentative relationship between Madam Giry and he.  "Yes, he's a private man, but perhaps, I can talk him into such a meeting if your Maman deems it necessary."

"Then let's go find her,"  Meg smiled.

@}-----,----- *~*~* -----'-----{@

After the performance that night, Christine slowly made her way back to the dressing room, feeling as if all energy had been sapped out of her body.

The day had been long and grueling, from the moment she had left the room with Meg in search for Madame Giry, through the rehearsals where Monsieur Reyer hounded her again and again, and Carlotta's fit over Christine's "sudden" reappearance.  The managers hadn't helped matters much either, Monsieur Firmin giving her the cold shoulder, and Monsieur Andre giving her dirty looks.  Obviously, Erik had already left a letter in their office.

The confrontation with Madame Giry had been the worst by far, however.  She refused to allow Meg to travel without proper chaperone, just as Erik had feared.  And she did not consider Christine a proper chaperone.

The sigh came long and hard out of her as her hand lay on the handle, and she had been just about to turn it when she heard the familiar voice calling her name from the hallway.

"Christine, wait, please!"  Raoul came panting and breathless.

"Raoul . . ."  Christine trailed off, the awkwardness evident in her stature.

"Christine, I . . . I don't mean to bother you, I was just, well, you disappear for two weeks without so much as a by your leave, no one here seemed to know where you'd gone, except for a note left with Madame Giry stating you had a sick relative you needed to visit, which I know you don't, so would you at least clue me in here?"

"Oh Raoul, I'm fine, surely you can see that!"

Raoul moved a few steps closer, and took her hands in his for a brief moment before letting go.  "Look, just because you don't wish to marry me, I had hoped perhaps we could still be friends.  Or does that go against Erik's wishes?"

"It's not something we've discussed, but Raoul, you must realize that we will always have a shared past, no matter what else changes."

"Yes, but it's not enough, Christine, not for me.  Even if you can never love me, at least allow me to check up on you from time to time as friends do."

Christine lowered her head,  "I doubt that even if I tried to deny you that, you would still be checking after me, now wouldn't you?  I know you were worried, and I'm sorry for that, but I wasn't alone, and I'm fine."

"You told me about the murders, remember?"  Raoul whispered sotto voce.  "Do you really think that I could forget that, no matter how wrong I may have been for trying to shoot the man in the back?  I'll give him one thing, though, he had courage enough to come to my estate and watch me, even if he never intended on clearing the stage, didn't he?  Christine, he frightens me, that one day, perhaps you may anger him past the point of no return."

"Erik would never hurt me, I assure you of that,"  Christine asserted.

Raoul merely shook his head,  "I still wonder how things might have been different if I had a better aim."

"Oh Raoul, please, don't!"

"Well, I do.  It bothers you that I may have killed him, but his past does not bother you?  That makes you a hypocrite, Christine, pure and simple!"

"Raoul, there is a big difference.  With a few exceptions, they were mostly self defense.  He can not help the others, either.  I don't claim to understand, but I can forgive him that.  Raoul, you don't know him as I know him.  Beneath the horror, there is a good there, a kind and loving soul, and it's that he shows me.  And yes, there's more, and it's very hard to explain it when I barely understand it myself, but Raoul, it does not change the fact that I love him.  I love him in spite of his past, and because he wants a better future."

Raoul's head dropped, fully chastised.  "Still, be aware, Christine, I'll still find it within myself to make sure that you're all right.  Your father would have wanted it so."  And with that final parting word, he turned and walked away.

Christine stood still for a moment, hesitating at the door to the dressing room.  Staring into space as she often used to.

And then she shook her head, and turned the knob, resolute that the course she had chosen was the right one, even if it was exhausting.

She closed the door behind her, and she knew immediately, that he was waiting for her behind the mirror.  As in the days when she only knew him as her Angel Of Music, she could feel the power in his presence.

Yet she knew he would remain silent for a time, and allow her to change out of her costume before turning the mirror.  So she made her way behind the changing screen, and was soon emerging in the gown she'd worn on their journey.

"Christine,"  his voice floated from behind the mirror.

She smiled as she turned toward the mirror, and the smile widened as the mirror turned on it's pivots and revealed the source of the voice.  Resplendent in his usual dress clothes, mask in place, the power seethed through every pore of his being.

He held out his hand to her, and she moved forward without a word, as she had so many times before, except now she grasped the hand he held to her, and their fingers entwined as they went down once more.

@}-----,----- *~*~* -----'-----{@

Soon they were back in the house upon the lake, and it was almost as if they had never left.  The moment they knew they were safe, Erik took Christine in his arms, as if he knew she was barely able to hold herself up any longer.

"It was a mistake for you to stay above today.  You needed rest,"  Erik said gently as he picked her up and carried her to the divan.

"It's nothing, Erik, I'll be fine.  No one ever died from missed sleep, did they?"

Erik sighed in remorse.  He'd known she should have come down with him and had a proper rest.  She hadn't slept the night before, as his fear would not let him stop the carriage long enough for them to rest.  The scene in the forest still plagued him.

"I should have brought you down here with me,"  Erik's voice soothed as he brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face.

"You were there tonight?"

"Yes, of course I was.  And those managers are fools for not having you play Marguerite."

"Erik, I have been gone for two weeks, and before that a week, only back for a few days."

"Still, it's not as if you haven't been practicing your singing while we were away,"  Erik frowned.

Christine's lips turned up at the memory of their voices combining in one during those long hours of travel.  His voice was always perfectly pitched, so even without proper accompaniment they had been able to practice, to continue their lessons.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, Erik.  Besides,"  she yawned,  "To be honest, I don't know if I could have managed it tonight."

Erik's lips twisted into a wry smile,  "I should send you directly to bed."

Christine shook her head before her voice followed her motions,  "Please, not just yet.  I haven't seen you since we arrived, and right now, well, I'm just a bit too comfortable to move."

Erik sighed; he couldn't deny that he was feeling the same.  His arms tightened slightly around her in a protective embrace.  "We'll finish any discussions we need to have tomorrow then,"  he chastised quietly as Christine opened her mouth to speak again.

Seeing the sense in this, Christine nodded her head, and then moved so that her head rested against Erik's shoulder.  It wasn't long before sleep claimed her, and Erik followed not far behind.

@}-----,----- *~*~* -----'-----{@

Author's Notes:  LoL, yes, I am very inspired right now . . . after seeing Phantom for the second time (and in less than a month at that!) it's really helping me with this phic.  :::Sigh::: I actually stayed up until six in the morning afterwards writing this chapter . . . for the inspiration was running so freely with me, and I was hyper to boot, since it was totally unplanned!  That was the best part!

Glad everyone is still enjoying, and I make a promise to you now, I will have the wedding written and posted no later than Christmas day, my present to all of you who have been so sweet and kind throughout the writing of this story!