A/N: I realize we'd rather know about Erik *gets dreamy eyed* but I figure
we need to go deeper into Christina's past. She is after all falling for
Erik *still dreamy eyed* so we need to know about his love's past...*rubs
tired eyes, and then keeps typing...yawn*
Christina could not sleep that night. Guilt washed over her like a waterfall. She ached with sorrow. She wished she had not responded so horribly to Erik. She clutched the sheet, her knuckles grew white. Her eyes were wet with tears. "Oh Erik," She whispered. Her long blonde hair lay in tangles spread all over her pillow. She rubbed the ring he had given her. It had become something of a charm to her. It never left her. She closed her eyes. She had tried sleeping, maybe if she closed her eyes she could think of something other than the sound of his voice. Her mind drifted back to a time when she had been truly happy...
"You can't catch me, Grandpapa!" Little Christina giggled. She raced across the green grass barefoot. Her long dress tripped her and she fell into the soft grass. She laughed, and rolled around. Someone lifted her gently up off the dirt.
"Oh child you are going to make your mama mad if you get yourself all dirty," Raoul smiled fondly at her. She bit her lip, and looked up at him with her wide blue eyes. He brushed grass out of her bouncy blonde curls.
"But if we both get dirty maybe your mama will not say anything," He said a twinkle in his eye.
"Ok," She whispered as if worried someone would hear in the wide meadow.
"Ready...set....go!" He said. She hurried off as fast as her small legs would carry her. The raced across the tall grasses and around trees. When he finally caught her he picked her up and began to tickle her. Her giggles echoed loudly. They finally lay back into the grass and looked up at the clouds.
"What's that look like?" He pointed up. She squinted like her grandmamma up at the puffy white clouds.
"A horse," She replied after much consideration.
"And that?" He pointed at another.
"A face," She said. "What about that one, grandpapa?" She pointed her little pudgy finger up at the sapphire sky.
"An apple,"
"It does not," She squinted again.
"Well then what does it look like to you?"
"A horse,"
"I think your looking at a different cloud,"
"No," She said stubbornly. He hid his smile. He reached over and tousled her blonde hair.
"Do you like the summer château?" He asked her.
"Yes, Grandpapa," Christina said softly. He had worried about her. Her mother, father, and uncle's deaths had deeply affected the child. He was affected by grief also. Losing his son and daughter had been a deep gash in his heart. That had been two years ago. His daughter Rose had been a beautiful woman, she had inherited his sandy blonde hair, and blue eyes. His son Vincent had gotten his mother's looks, the lovely brown hair, and green eyes. When Robert had come knocking on their door requesting to court Rose it had been a shock to Raoul. His little girl had grown up. They had married a year later, and in only nine months after that Christina had been born. Her given name had been Christine, but with two Christines in the same room it got very confusing. So he nicknamed her Christina. He turned his head to look at her better. She had been accepting of them when they had adopted her. He was still in his prime so he could look after her. Christine fussed over the little girl like she was her own. The hole in Christine's heart would eventually heal, with her granddaughter's cheerful spirit it would heal even quicker. Losing Vincent and Rose had been very trying on him. He had wept for days. Both his children, dead. Now only two years after three deaths, they were beginning to heal. He watched as little Christina's eyes grew wide as a dragonfly whistled by them. Christine had been quiet today. Her good morning greeting to Christina had been dampened by something. Her eyes had looked tired. They were getting older of course. Grey streaks had found themselves in her long silky brown hair. How he wished he could turn back time and freeze them all as a family forever. He knew things were bound to happen to them, but at least they were happy now.
"Come on, we'd better go feed the ducks on the lake. Grandmamma might worry if we don't get back in an hour,"
"Oui Grandpapa," She said pleasantly. Her blonde curls bounced as she sat up off the grass. Her small frame had made an indention in the grass. "We don't need snow to make ange, angels, do we Grandpapa?" She said her eyes wide at the little "angel" she had made in the soft grass.
"That's right, mon ange," He smiled down at her. He took her hand and they hurried off to the lake to feed the ducks...
Christina could not sleep that night. Guilt washed over her like a waterfall. She ached with sorrow. She wished she had not responded so horribly to Erik. She clutched the sheet, her knuckles grew white. Her eyes were wet with tears. "Oh Erik," She whispered. Her long blonde hair lay in tangles spread all over her pillow. She rubbed the ring he had given her. It had become something of a charm to her. It never left her. She closed her eyes. She had tried sleeping, maybe if she closed her eyes she could think of something other than the sound of his voice. Her mind drifted back to a time when she had been truly happy...
"You can't catch me, Grandpapa!" Little Christina giggled. She raced across the green grass barefoot. Her long dress tripped her and she fell into the soft grass. She laughed, and rolled around. Someone lifted her gently up off the dirt.
"Oh child you are going to make your mama mad if you get yourself all dirty," Raoul smiled fondly at her. She bit her lip, and looked up at him with her wide blue eyes. He brushed grass out of her bouncy blonde curls.
"But if we both get dirty maybe your mama will not say anything," He said a twinkle in his eye.
"Ok," She whispered as if worried someone would hear in the wide meadow.
"Ready...set....go!" He said. She hurried off as fast as her small legs would carry her. The raced across the tall grasses and around trees. When he finally caught her he picked her up and began to tickle her. Her giggles echoed loudly. They finally lay back into the grass and looked up at the clouds.
"What's that look like?" He pointed up. She squinted like her grandmamma up at the puffy white clouds.
"A horse," She replied after much consideration.
"And that?" He pointed at another.
"A face," She said. "What about that one, grandpapa?" She pointed her little pudgy finger up at the sapphire sky.
"An apple,"
"It does not," She squinted again.
"Well then what does it look like to you?"
"A horse,"
"I think your looking at a different cloud,"
"No," She said stubbornly. He hid his smile. He reached over and tousled her blonde hair.
"Do you like the summer château?" He asked her.
"Yes, Grandpapa," Christina said softly. He had worried about her. Her mother, father, and uncle's deaths had deeply affected the child. He was affected by grief also. Losing his son and daughter had been a deep gash in his heart. That had been two years ago. His daughter Rose had been a beautiful woman, she had inherited his sandy blonde hair, and blue eyes. His son Vincent had gotten his mother's looks, the lovely brown hair, and green eyes. When Robert had come knocking on their door requesting to court Rose it had been a shock to Raoul. His little girl had grown up. They had married a year later, and in only nine months after that Christina had been born. Her given name had been Christine, but with two Christines in the same room it got very confusing. So he nicknamed her Christina. He turned his head to look at her better. She had been accepting of them when they had adopted her. He was still in his prime so he could look after her. Christine fussed over the little girl like she was her own. The hole in Christine's heart would eventually heal, with her granddaughter's cheerful spirit it would heal even quicker. Losing Vincent and Rose had been very trying on him. He had wept for days. Both his children, dead. Now only two years after three deaths, they were beginning to heal. He watched as little Christina's eyes grew wide as a dragonfly whistled by them. Christine had been quiet today. Her good morning greeting to Christina had been dampened by something. Her eyes had looked tired. They were getting older of course. Grey streaks had found themselves in her long silky brown hair. How he wished he could turn back time and freeze them all as a family forever. He knew things were bound to happen to them, but at least they were happy now.
"Come on, we'd better go feed the ducks on the lake. Grandmamma might worry if we don't get back in an hour,"
"Oui Grandpapa," She said pleasantly. Her blonde curls bounced as she sat up off the grass. Her small frame had made an indention in the grass. "We don't need snow to make ange, angels, do we Grandpapa?" She said her eyes wide at the little "angel" she had made in the soft grass.
"That's right, mon ange," He smiled down at her. He took her hand and they hurried off to the lake to feed the ducks...