Phantom's Mix
Sharon: Ok, Erik and I assembled this, from stuff he found funny or sad or whatever.
Erik: If you don't like it, tough
Sharon: Um, right then, so while Raoul doesn't know we're doing this, let's get started with.....
Erik's Favorite Phic,
A Shoulder To Cry On- A Love To Rekindle
Authors note- This is more cute than anything, just thought I'd let you know.
The words rang through the widow's head time and time again, she couldn't shake them, yet couldn't grasp them.
Killed in action. What was this? Un-comprehendible! This casket couldn't carry her husband, the man she had married five long years ago. This casket did not carry that wonderful man, whom she could have just chosen another and avoided this unprecedented grief.
This was not that handsome blonde, Raoul de Chagny. Whom had taken her from the cold dark cellars of the opera. Whom had lifted her from poverty to riches, from depression to happiness. True, she had never loved him the way he loved her, and the money meant nothing, but he had done so much and now what? A cold, disfigured corpse!
Killed in action. She wanted to scream. This was not the wonderful young boy who had saved her scarf. The boy who had played with her every day of the summer, the boy who had called her 'Little Lotte'. This was not her hero...
She turned from the lot, unable to handle watching any more. Many offered her their condolences as she walked to her carriage but she silently pulled away from the comfort, desperately seeking the dark, cold comfort of her carriage. She reached it, climbing in without the footman's help, and ordering to be taken to the opera without another thought.
She stepped from the carriage shortly later, clasping Richard, the footmans hand in apology and promising him and the driver a raise. Before he could protest she was sweeping into the lavish building for the first time in five years, seeking permission to her old dressing room.
The managers, to her surprise and delight, were quite hospitable, having heard of their old patron's death, they obviously thought making friends with the rich woman would make her offer money also.
What fools!
Rushing to the room no other girl had wanted she opened the door hastily. She ran in, the almost staggering grief enveloping her and she fell to her knee's just as the door slammed behind her. Her sobs were loud and frequent, her tears now made her cheeks glisten. In this moment she wanted to die, she wanted to fall to the ground, dead. Love was not a strong factor in her grief, no it was. Just she did not grieve her husband for some new found romantic love. She missed the tender, loving friendship.
She now had nothing. No job at the opera, no husband or friend. The stage was gone, Erik was gone, and now Raoul was gone. She had nothing to live for.
The memory of the icy cold water as she had treaded her fingers in the lake whipped through her. It had sent her finger numb and on the few occasions that she had not taken them out immediately frost bite had resulted, which Erik had so lovingly tended to.
By the time her body was removed, it would be red and raw. A perfect way to die, and repent the many sins she had committed against people.
Slowly she took a lantern, then opened the mirror noiselessly, marveling on how all but this room had changed. She stumbled through the passage, obviously unused for quite some time. She imagined since Erik would come up it, weeks maybe even months after her departure, and hope that she would return.
And I haven't, not until now. She thought guiltily. Poor Erik! How tormented he must have been!
Reaching the lake she stared in awe at how black it was here, blacker than it once had been. She couldn't even see the waves and ripples in the water. Trembling openly, she took a deep, shaky breath and proceeded to the black salvation awaiting her. Maybe Erik himself had died in this lake...
She set down the lantern, removing her cloak and underskirts. She then hastily removed her corset, throwing it across the way, then covering herself back up with her dress, no need to make it look like she was molested.
She put a foot in, biting back a cry. As a result of the loss of light, it was colder than usual. She forced herself to wade in, marveling at how it seemed like a normal, outdoor lake.
The biting cold burned her into her senses. Her eyes snapped open and her skin was aflame. She was up to her neck now, and with another step or a dunk of her head, she would be covered.
Her mind reeled to Erik, and the thought of him dying in this lake. What if he hadn't been removed? What if he had been weighted down? She gulped. What if he had weighted down others?
The thought of skeletons so near her feet, the thought of the sight of them, feel of them touching her accidentally sickened her. She whimpered and shuddered, only now realizing that she was red as a beet. She did not want to die this way, and she began to fumble for a way out.
A step brought her further from the deepness. Another and another until her chest was out, but a misstep brought her back under with a shrill scream, and she frantically began to swim. But little did she know, she was swimming in the wrong direction, and found herself in the deep water, and found something she had wished not to find.
Their bones had long been bare, she could tell. And no hair was on the skull. And it would be impossible to tell the identity if not for the small, shred of a clue.
Attached to the ribs, a fine, black evening attire scrap, waving in the aquatic breeze.
She would feel tears on her cheeks now if she were not underwater. Erik, her beloved, dead. Under the deep black waves. She struggled to rise up, but something had caught her skirt, whirling around she let out a soundless scream, the bubbles wavering around her.
I do not wish to tell you who's corpse this was, but they were tiny, and only newly dead. The poor dear must have fallen in while wandering around. Her dress caught on something sharp attached to the other, she would have to pry it off before she drown and forever float with it.
With fear she reached out, gripping the caught cloth and tearing it from her, she watched as the corpse faded into the deep. Just then hands were on her shoulder's, strong hands. She wanted to scream but she was dragged to the surface, gasping for breath. Whoever it was, she dared not look, was swimming to the shore, with her arm tucked under theirs.
She felt land beneath her knees and she leaned over, coughing out water, waiting until it all was out. She could hear the person's deep, shallow breaths behind her.
"Thank you, for saving me." She mumbled, still not looking.
"Christine, I've watched you for many years and I hardly think your husband's death would send you to go swimming, why were you in there?"
Shocked she stiffened. That was her Erik's voice! But how? "I wanted to die, and changed my mind at the last minute."
His hand was on her shoulder. "Why?"
"I wanted to die because I thought I had nothing, I thought I'd lost you, I'd lost my job, and now Raoul..." Killed in action.
His chuckle was soft. "You will never lose me, no matter what."
Sobs shook her and she turned to look at him. His mask still dripped water, and his face shone in the lamplight with it's dampness, reaching out she caressed the uncovered cheek. "Oh, Erik," He took her into his arms, her face finding solace in his shoulder. He held her, making soothing sounds, and rubbing her back gently.
She wept for some time, and when she calmed a bit she realized he was weeping too. She brushed her tears away with the backs of her hands and continued to hold him until he had cried himself out.
"What is it, Erik?" She asked, brushing the wetness from his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs.
He inhaled unsteadily. "I... I just wish... Oh I can't say it, I'd truly be the beast they cal me if I did!"
She smiled softly, delighting in the way he melted under her soft smile. "You can tell me anything and I would never think you that."
He sighed. "I just wish you could stay, and we could be together now. But it's wrong, Christine. Raoul has just died and..."
Her finger hushed him. "Raoul won't always have just died."
"But now that I've seen you I cannot wait! I would sooner die than watch you leave again and wait a year to see you! To hold you to..." He froze, not wanting to continue.
She reached up and flinched, she was beginning to feel the effects of the ice water all over. He saw the look of pain and clasped her hand. "Christine?"
"The water." She said softly, showing him her arm. It was red and he understood.
"Come, I shall take you and get you better."
"Erik,"
"Let me spend the time I can with you! Make it easier." He helped her up.
He rowed them across, taking her into his home, lighting a fire and he found some ointment, instructing she get into a clean shift and under the covers. (No, this isn't about to become some perverted thing, I'm keeping it innocent)
He met her several minutes later, bringing back the covers just slightly, and spreading some of the medicine over her arms and what little chest that was exposed. He gave her the bottle. "Finish the job. I will be in to retrieve it when you call."
She nodded, waiting until he left the room and then throwing aside the covers, rubbing the ointment all over and covering herself back up, writhing slightly as the fabric stuck to her skin.
She called out softly but audibly. "All right Erik, you may come in." He stepped in, his eyes glazed over for no apparent reason. She handed the tub to him and he smiled, leaning down and kissing her forehead. "Sleep now."
Sighing she obeyed, her eyes closed and sleep came easily, the day had been rough and perhaps her dreams would soothe her.
Killed in action
Killed in action
Killed in action
KILLED IN ACTION!
She bolted up, looking around, then sighing as everything was all right. She lay back, falling asleep again.
It was many painful weeks before she was completely healed, and she and Erik had reestablished their relationship in that short, yet long time. Christine felt that she did not want to leave, but she wasn't sure how to express her growing rekindled feelings for him.
She found song was the only effective way, and her eyes told him her feelings also. He gazed into them as he played on the organ, her voice flowing around him, slightly unused but still beautiful. He slammed his fingers onto the keys, unable to play any more. She looked at him, his face hidden from her by his mask. She did not know why he had stopped, or why he now sat in profile, but she was growing frustrated.
"Take it off." she begged softly.
"What off?" He asked, still not facing her.
"The mask, I'm not afraid, take it off."
Slowly he obeyed and she felt her heart flutter at the realization that she indeed was not afraid. Reaching out she caressed the ruined flesh, and then placed a tender kiss to it. He whimpered.
"Erik look at me." She murmured. He obeyed and her eyes burned into his.
It was his turn to reach out, and he pressed his palm to her cheek, gently caressing the soft, pale flesh. He leaned in, bringing his lips to hers. They lost themselves, completely and essentially.
Finally they parted and he guided her face to his shoulder, tears of happiness spilling from her eyes. "Christine?"
"Yes?"
"How did Raoul die?"
She thought for a moment. "I... Why I am not even sure!"
Like I said, cute. More to come!