Chapter Sixteen
PARIS: Using the key he still kept in his possession, Erik opened the door off the Rue Scribe. He and Christine paused at the entrance while a myriad of memories mingled with the love they now shared. Taking her hand, Erik led her through the entry and into the familiar, dank corridor. He lit a torch from the wall to light their way and guided her through the darkness. The moment seemed otherworldly to each as both fought with bittersweet memories. The years seemed to melt away and Christine was once again his pupil. The exact same smell of the clammy air combining with the smoke from the torch; the image of Erik in front of her with his black hat and cloak blending with the darkness; the same touch of his hand on hers - again, leading her.
Erik stepped as imperceptibly as a ghost through the well-known passages knowing he would have found his way even without the aid of a flame. He was surprised at the swift rush of memories, both good and bad, that assailed him as he walked once more through the cellars with Christine. So much had happened since they last walked this way..
Turning, Erik deftly steered Christine down several small passageways until she gasped in surprise. Before them was the underground lake that had led to Erik's home. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and he smiled slightly. "Oh, Erik.."
Situating the flame, he went to stand next to her and gather her in his arms. Christine trembled against him but he knew it was not from the cold. This was difficult for him as well. Remembering the loneliness of this place, he would have gladly departed immediately. However, Christine had wisely suggested the past be put to rest. Kissing the top of her head, he marveled again that she was his wife. How many times had he dreamt of this moment beyond this very lake? Erik had planned to die there without ever knowing love and certainly without Christine. Comparing his previous existence to the joy he knew now with her, for the first time in his life - Erik was glad to be alive.
Christine could feel the turmoil inside him; relieved she was not the only one experiencing the surge of conflicting feelings. Reminiscing, she thought of the times spent with Erik in his hidden lair. All the lessons she had learned there after he had first lured her below. Thinking of the girl she had been and remembering her first seduction of Erik, she felt like two different people. That girl had been in love with Raoul; his handsome face and aristocratic bearing had made him like a prince from a fairytale. When he offered to protect her, she seized the chance to have someone else make her decisions for her as her father had once done. The girl had loved Raoul, but the woman in her had always loved Erik.
Christine sighed with regret when she thought of the pain she had inflicted upon him. As if reading her mind, he tightened his arms and whispered, "It's all right, my love." She was getting rather accustomed to his uncanny intuition.
"It seems appropriate that we should stand here now, Erik, as husband and wife. Does it not?" she said thoughtfully.
Fully aware that dreams do come true, Erik agreed, "Yes, it does, my Christine." They continued to hold each other for many more minutes until Erik suggested they go to the roof and watch the sunset once more. The romantic suggestion delighted Christine and they moved down another hallway of the labyrinth.
"Erik, how did you ever find your way around here in the darkness?" she questioned him.
"My dear, you must remember that I did help build the structure.", he replied. Sighing wistfully, he confessed, "I recall thinking that at least something of mine would be left behind after I died. It gave me a peculiar satisfaction to know that this building would exist long after I had gone."
Christine said nothing, keeping step behind him. Erik abruptly stopped without warning and under her breath, she whispered in alarm, "Erik, what is it?"
He set down the torch once again and took her hands in his own. She could not see his face since the light shone from behind him. He seemed one tall, imposing shadow but instead of frightening her, it thrilled her. In an odd voice, he beseeched, "Christine, tell me you love me. Right here and now."
Gazing to where she imagined his eyes to be in the vague white of his mask, she smiled up, "Erik, I love you deeply. No, my darling, more than love - I adore you."
Quickly, he gathered her in a desperate, crushing embrace. She could feel his heart pounding in her ear as her head rested upon his chest. "Erik, please tell me." she implored him.
Silently, Erik stepped aside and Christine saw it. Her mirror. The mirror before which she had first heard his angelic voice. Her old dressing room stood behind it crammed with old, dusty furniture and several crates apparently turned into a storage area. She placed her fingertips on the glass lost in thought. "It seems another lifetime ago." she mused softly. Returning her vision to him, she said sadly, "I wish I could go back and change so many things, Erik."
His lips turned up faintly as he replied, "You'd have altered your visit from the Angel of Music perhaps?"
"Yes," she countered vehemently, "I would never have betrayed him. I would have followed my heart."
Bringing her as close to him as possible, his answer surprised her. "I would not change a thing." Christine looked up at him confused.
"For what I know now with you, my precious Christine, I would do it all again. How I love you." Erik breathed.
Pulling his face down to kiss him, Christine considered herself complete. They stood exactly where they had first seen each other face to face. Here, through the mirror and in his arms, she was whole.
Starting once more, it seemed that the stairs they climbed were never- ending. Both of them were deeply lost in thought. At length, they reached the top and Erik opened the door to the roof of the Opera.
Secure in Erik's arms, Christine leaned her back against his chest watching a red sun painting streaks along the sky. How many sunsets did they watch when he had been her teacher? Erik had known then that she missed the sunlight but he would only venture out toward evening. He was always so solicitous of her desires. Once again, she thanked God that He had seen fit to bring them back together. There were so many things that they were certain to share and, remembering, she whispered, "Erik, there is something I must tell you."
"Hmmmmm?" he murmured into her hair. This was a precious moment for him, moreso than even Christine realized. Now - with her, at the pinnacle of his Opera, at the pinnacle of his life - he could not imagine being more blissful.
Turning but remaining in the circle of his strong arms, Christine eyes sparkled, "Erik, I am with child."
The expression on his face was priceless and Christine laughed with the joy of having finally bewildered her Maestro at long last.
Unwittingly, Erik had been holding his breath. He exhaled sharply and took Christine's face in his shaking hands. "Say that again." he ordered.
"We are going to have a child, Erik. A child!" she exulted triumphantly. "You no longer have to believe that the structure upon which you stand will be your only legacy." She put her hand over his on her abdomen. "Our son or daughter will be a living testimony to our love."
His hand rested against her warm body but Erik could not process the enormity of her declaration. Dimly aware that she watched him, he could not utter a sound. Christine knew that he had not suspected and was not dismayed by his lack of response. Erik had not thought to ever marry, let alone sire a child, so she waited for him to grasp the concept. Quietly, she moved in front of him again keeping his hand on her abdomen but covering his hand with her own.
As Christine leaned against him, Erik felt that the ground had dropped from beneath him. Certain he had not heard her correctly, he had her repeat the words once more. She appeared to understand that he had not been at all prepared for her announcement. Erik was downright astonished. He was going to be a father. Christine was carrying their child - his child! Incapable of rationality, he thought for a long time absorbing the revelation. Their baby - a baby! Without warning, a wave of love and longing for the life that Christine sheltered below her heart swept over him and he closed his eyes against it. He had just been thinking that he could not possibly contain another drop of happiness. Would his sweet wife never stop amazing him?
Making her face him, Erik beheld Christine with new eyes. He noticed as how her bright eyes shone and her skin practically glowed. Yes, motherhood agreed with her. "When?" he breathed in awe.
Proudly, she put her hand over herself again saying, "I believe in about six months from now." She smiled broadly at him in contentment.
Embracing her with utmost tenderness, Erik lowered his lips to her feeling the wonder anew. It was all so remarkable - this unimagined blessing. Kissing her deeply, he held her carefully as though she were extremely fragile. Choked with tears, he had to stop their kiss in order to breathe. As they embraced each other, a fierce possessiveness gripped him for his wife and child. He yearned impatiently to hold the evidence of their love, a boy or a girl. He whispered almost to himself, "I don't deserve such miracles."
Stepping back from him, Christine sternly replied, "Yes, you do, Erik. You deserve much more than I can give to you." At his adamant refusal, she placed her fingertips over his mouth. "Listen to me. The beauty inside you has no equal. Erik, had you been born with a normal face, you would still be set apart from others. There is nothing ordinary about you and there never has been. The genius, talent and the love that I see inside you each and every day of our lives overwhelms me with its majesty." Erik made to turn away from her esteem but she kept him firmly in place with her hands on his shoulders. He turned his head away from her, hiding his face with the brim of his hat as she continued. "Oh, Erik, everyone is scarred and ugly. It is just that most of us carry our ugliness hidden on the inside behind the mask of gentility. You, my husband, are the exact opposite. Your beauty lies inside your brilliant soul where your loveliness outshines us all."
Erik's shoulders shook with suppressed sobs. Christine finished, "It is due you, my love. It is time for you to experience joy. You've had enough sorrow to last more than one lifetime. Now, let us leave here and put the Opera Ghost to rest."
Christine walked several paces from Erik and offered her hand to him.
Wondering when she had grown so wise, Erik worshipped her with his gaze. Tears streamed unheeded down his face and beneath his mask. Leaving behind a lifetime of solitude, he reached out and clasped her hand. The sun had set and night began to fall chilling the air around them.
Resolutely, it was Christine who now led him down to the labyrinth. She felt it was symbolic that she lead him away from this darkness where he had known nothing but pain. If it were within her power, she would show him only happiness for as long as she lived.
Erik could not remember ever permitting anyone to lead him before. At times, she hesitated unsure of which direction to go and he would gesture the correct way. Still holding their light aloft, he allowed Christine to take him down the stairs, past the mirror and beyond the lake to the doorway leading to the street. She looked at him poignantly when they reached the threshold and he understood her silent message.
'We will leave the anguish and sorrow here and not carry them with us anymore. The ghosts that have haunted us for so long will remain here and rest in peace.'
Stepping out into the misty night, Erik closed and locked the door firmly on his past and turned toward his future. Looking earnestly at his bride and the mother of his child, he literally and figuratively threw away the key.
And so, Christine and her Phantom left the Opera for the final time, hand in hand, never to return.
The End
PARIS: Using the key he still kept in his possession, Erik opened the door off the Rue Scribe. He and Christine paused at the entrance while a myriad of memories mingled with the love they now shared. Taking her hand, Erik led her through the entry and into the familiar, dank corridor. He lit a torch from the wall to light their way and guided her through the darkness. The moment seemed otherworldly to each as both fought with bittersweet memories. The years seemed to melt away and Christine was once again his pupil. The exact same smell of the clammy air combining with the smoke from the torch; the image of Erik in front of her with his black hat and cloak blending with the darkness; the same touch of his hand on hers - again, leading her.
Erik stepped as imperceptibly as a ghost through the well-known passages knowing he would have found his way even without the aid of a flame. He was surprised at the swift rush of memories, both good and bad, that assailed him as he walked once more through the cellars with Christine. So much had happened since they last walked this way..
Turning, Erik deftly steered Christine down several small passageways until she gasped in surprise. Before them was the underground lake that had led to Erik's home. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and he smiled slightly. "Oh, Erik.."
Situating the flame, he went to stand next to her and gather her in his arms. Christine trembled against him but he knew it was not from the cold. This was difficult for him as well. Remembering the loneliness of this place, he would have gladly departed immediately. However, Christine had wisely suggested the past be put to rest. Kissing the top of her head, he marveled again that she was his wife. How many times had he dreamt of this moment beyond this very lake? Erik had planned to die there without ever knowing love and certainly without Christine. Comparing his previous existence to the joy he knew now with her, for the first time in his life - Erik was glad to be alive.
Christine could feel the turmoil inside him; relieved she was not the only one experiencing the surge of conflicting feelings. Reminiscing, she thought of the times spent with Erik in his hidden lair. All the lessons she had learned there after he had first lured her below. Thinking of the girl she had been and remembering her first seduction of Erik, she felt like two different people. That girl had been in love with Raoul; his handsome face and aristocratic bearing had made him like a prince from a fairytale. When he offered to protect her, she seized the chance to have someone else make her decisions for her as her father had once done. The girl had loved Raoul, but the woman in her had always loved Erik.
Christine sighed with regret when she thought of the pain she had inflicted upon him. As if reading her mind, he tightened his arms and whispered, "It's all right, my love." She was getting rather accustomed to his uncanny intuition.
"It seems appropriate that we should stand here now, Erik, as husband and wife. Does it not?" she said thoughtfully.
Fully aware that dreams do come true, Erik agreed, "Yes, it does, my Christine." They continued to hold each other for many more minutes until Erik suggested they go to the roof and watch the sunset once more. The romantic suggestion delighted Christine and they moved down another hallway of the labyrinth.
"Erik, how did you ever find your way around here in the darkness?" she questioned him.
"My dear, you must remember that I did help build the structure.", he replied. Sighing wistfully, he confessed, "I recall thinking that at least something of mine would be left behind after I died. It gave me a peculiar satisfaction to know that this building would exist long after I had gone."
Christine said nothing, keeping step behind him. Erik abruptly stopped without warning and under her breath, she whispered in alarm, "Erik, what is it?"
He set down the torch once again and took her hands in his own. She could not see his face since the light shone from behind him. He seemed one tall, imposing shadow but instead of frightening her, it thrilled her. In an odd voice, he beseeched, "Christine, tell me you love me. Right here and now."
Gazing to where she imagined his eyes to be in the vague white of his mask, she smiled up, "Erik, I love you deeply. No, my darling, more than love - I adore you."
Quickly, he gathered her in a desperate, crushing embrace. She could feel his heart pounding in her ear as her head rested upon his chest. "Erik, please tell me." she implored him.
Silently, Erik stepped aside and Christine saw it. Her mirror. The mirror before which she had first heard his angelic voice. Her old dressing room stood behind it crammed with old, dusty furniture and several crates apparently turned into a storage area. She placed her fingertips on the glass lost in thought. "It seems another lifetime ago." she mused softly. Returning her vision to him, she said sadly, "I wish I could go back and change so many things, Erik."
His lips turned up faintly as he replied, "You'd have altered your visit from the Angel of Music perhaps?"
"Yes," she countered vehemently, "I would never have betrayed him. I would have followed my heart."
Bringing her as close to him as possible, his answer surprised her. "I would not change a thing." Christine looked up at him confused.
"For what I know now with you, my precious Christine, I would do it all again. How I love you." Erik breathed.
Pulling his face down to kiss him, Christine considered herself complete. They stood exactly where they had first seen each other face to face. Here, through the mirror and in his arms, she was whole.
Starting once more, it seemed that the stairs they climbed were never- ending. Both of them were deeply lost in thought. At length, they reached the top and Erik opened the door to the roof of the Opera.
Secure in Erik's arms, Christine leaned her back against his chest watching a red sun painting streaks along the sky. How many sunsets did they watch when he had been her teacher? Erik had known then that she missed the sunlight but he would only venture out toward evening. He was always so solicitous of her desires. Once again, she thanked God that He had seen fit to bring them back together. There were so many things that they were certain to share and, remembering, she whispered, "Erik, there is something I must tell you."
"Hmmmmm?" he murmured into her hair. This was a precious moment for him, moreso than even Christine realized. Now - with her, at the pinnacle of his Opera, at the pinnacle of his life - he could not imagine being more blissful.
Turning but remaining in the circle of his strong arms, Christine eyes sparkled, "Erik, I am with child."
The expression on his face was priceless and Christine laughed with the joy of having finally bewildered her Maestro at long last.
Unwittingly, Erik had been holding his breath. He exhaled sharply and took Christine's face in his shaking hands. "Say that again." he ordered.
"We are going to have a child, Erik. A child!" she exulted triumphantly. "You no longer have to believe that the structure upon which you stand will be your only legacy." She put her hand over his on her abdomen. "Our son or daughter will be a living testimony to our love."
His hand rested against her warm body but Erik could not process the enormity of her declaration. Dimly aware that she watched him, he could not utter a sound. Christine knew that he had not suspected and was not dismayed by his lack of response. Erik had not thought to ever marry, let alone sire a child, so she waited for him to grasp the concept. Quietly, she moved in front of him again keeping his hand on her abdomen but covering his hand with her own.
As Christine leaned against him, Erik felt that the ground had dropped from beneath him. Certain he had not heard her correctly, he had her repeat the words once more. She appeared to understand that he had not been at all prepared for her announcement. Erik was downright astonished. He was going to be a father. Christine was carrying their child - his child! Incapable of rationality, he thought for a long time absorbing the revelation. Their baby - a baby! Without warning, a wave of love and longing for the life that Christine sheltered below her heart swept over him and he closed his eyes against it. He had just been thinking that he could not possibly contain another drop of happiness. Would his sweet wife never stop amazing him?
Making her face him, Erik beheld Christine with new eyes. He noticed as how her bright eyes shone and her skin practically glowed. Yes, motherhood agreed with her. "When?" he breathed in awe.
Proudly, she put her hand over herself again saying, "I believe in about six months from now." She smiled broadly at him in contentment.
Embracing her with utmost tenderness, Erik lowered his lips to her feeling the wonder anew. It was all so remarkable - this unimagined blessing. Kissing her deeply, he held her carefully as though she were extremely fragile. Choked with tears, he had to stop their kiss in order to breathe. As they embraced each other, a fierce possessiveness gripped him for his wife and child. He yearned impatiently to hold the evidence of their love, a boy or a girl. He whispered almost to himself, "I don't deserve such miracles."
Stepping back from him, Christine sternly replied, "Yes, you do, Erik. You deserve much more than I can give to you." At his adamant refusal, she placed her fingertips over his mouth. "Listen to me. The beauty inside you has no equal. Erik, had you been born with a normal face, you would still be set apart from others. There is nothing ordinary about you and there never has been. The genius, talent and the love that I see inside you each and every day of our lives overwhelms me with its majesty." Erik made to turn away from her esteem but she kept him firmly in place with her hands on his shoulders. He turned his head away from her, hiding his face with the brim of his hat as she continued. "Oh, Erik, everyone is scarred and ugly. It is just that most of us carry our ugliness hidden on the inside behind the mask of gentility. You, my husband, are the exact opposite. Your beauty lies inside your brilliant soul where your loveliness outshines us all."
Erik's shoulders shook with suppressed sobs. Christine finished, "It is due you, my love. It is time for you to experience joy. You've had enough sorrow to last more than one lifetime. Now, let us leave here and put the Opera Ghost to rest."
Christine walked several paces from Erik and offered her hand to him.
Wondering when she had grown so wise, Erik worshipped her with his gaze. Tears streamed unheeded down his face and beneath his mask. Leaving behind a lifetime of solitude, he reached out and clasped her hand. The sun had set and night began to fall chilling the air around them.
Resolutely, it was Christine who now led him down to the labyrinth. She felt it was symbolic that she lead him away from this darkness where he had known nothing but pain. If it were within her power, she would show him only happiness for as long as she lived.
Erik could not remember ever permitting anyone to lead him before. At times, she hesitated unsure of which direction to go and he would gesture the correct way. Still holding their light aloft, he allowed Christine to take him down the stairs, past the mirror and beyond the lake to the doorway leading to the street. She looked at him poignantly when they reached the threshold and he understood her silent message.
'We will leave the anguish and sorrow here and not carry them with us anymore. The ghosts that have haunted us for so long will remain here and rest in peace.'
Stepping out into the misty night, Erik closed and locked the door firmly on his past and turned toward his future. Looking earnestly at his bride and the mother of his child, he literally and figuratively threw away the key.
And so, Christine and her Phantom left the Opera for the final time, hand in hand, never to return.
The End