Fears and Resolutions

(The time used in this chapter is Official Time, l'heure officielle)

Paris, five years later

The sun rose in measured beams, it cut through the thick clouds and blanketed the soft, dewy earth beneath, and the chilly air warmed just slightly. Ten minutes after it had fully risen shops began to open and the city grew alive with bustling crowds that were up to buy the day's smallest meal, le petit dèjeuner. The bakery's were crammed, as in Paris breakfast usually consisted of croissants, or some other breads, du pain, as they called it, butter, du beurre and jelly, de la confiture.

As the people waited eagerly in line Raoul de Chagny hurried off, his own groceries tucked away as he had been up early to buy for this morning, Elodie's fifth birthday. Her father, Erik, was ill this week, and had asked him to go out and he had gladly done so, delighting in the normality that he had so rarely experienced. Erik was growing old, and a horrible flu had taken him, and though he denied it, the doctor's didn't think he had more than another year to live. So Raoul had tried to ready himself for the responsibility of being Elodie's only parent, should her father die any time soon, which he prayed God he wouldn't.

He made it inside and took the things to the kitchen to be prepared, then made to start a fire in the parlor. Shortly after the cook brought out the tray with things ready to be eaten, along with coffee and juice, even some tea. He nodded his thanks and looked at his pocket watch, saw that it was about time to wake the sleeping beauty and her father to come and eat.

He hurried up the stairs to Erik's room first, knocked and poked his head in. "Erik? I'm going to be waking Elodie, are you well enough to go downstairs?"

Erik sighed and nodded from the bed. "Yes, I think so, I'll be down shortly." Raoul closed the door and went down the hall to the white, obviously feminine door. He opened it slowly and smiled down at the little girl, asleep in her bed, nearly drowned in the white sheets and huge pillows. Her dark, thick, long curls were splayed all around her little head, and a pale, chubby arm rested in the thick, brown silkiness. He gently leaned down and kissed her forehead, whispered to her.

"Elodie, c'est à dix huit heures, tu va pour le petit dèjeuner?" Elodie, it's six o clock, are you coming for breakfast?

She groaned slightly and rolled over. "Mais, mon père Raoul, je suis fatiguèe!" But Raoul, my father, I'm sleepy!

"Ah," he chuckled. "You should have thought of that when you went to bed. Hurry now, vais vien!" Come along with me.

She groaned again and rolled out of bed, with such a lack of grace it made Raoul laugh out loud. "I'll be downstairs with your papa, come to the parlor."

He made his way down, surprised to find Erik already there, spreading some jelly onto his croissant, Raoul smiled as he entered the room. "You look much better."

Erik looked at him, adjusted his mask and smiled. "I feel much better, thank you. Is she coming?"

"Yes, but I practically had to drag her out of bed."

Erik laughed. "Well, she did want to stay up to visit with Mme Giry more. I'm not surprised she is tired." He shook his head. "She has her mother's spirit."

Raoul smiled lightly. "She reminds me so much of Christine, I would not be surprised if she is Christine trapped in a little body."

"Papa! You're up!"

Erik smiled and welcomed his daughter into his arms. "Oui, mon angè, I am feeling much better this morning." She turned her in his lap so she faced Raoul, and she rested her cheek in his chest. "Did you sleep well, little one?"

"Yes, very much so," she yawned. "But I wouldn't mind a late morning."

Erik laughed and Raoul ushered her to a seat. "Now, my flower, we have planned a special surprise for you." He said with a wink. "But you must close your eyes to get it."

Elodie frowned deeply. "But father!"

"No 'buts' unless you don't want it." Raoul said gently, and she huffed and closed her little green eyes. Raoul signaled for the cook to come in with the special silver tray, which she set before the girl at the table. "All right, you may open them."

Elodie complied and gasped, grinning at the two with delight. "A present! An early present?"

Erik smiled and nodded. "Oui, cherie. You can open just this one before your friends come later. Go on then, let's see it."

She carefully removed the bow and opened the lid, slid her small hands into the tissue paper and lifted out a fragile, wooden frame, that Erik had painted and signed. In it was a photograph of a young woman, bright, wide eyes, high cheeks and a mass of curls around her, even though the picture was in black and white she could tell the curls were dark, curiously she looked to Erik. "Who is she?"

Sadly he motioned to it. "That's your maman, Christine. It was taken two or three years before you were born, just after we were married."

Elodie gently ran a hand over the picture. "My maman," she whispered, she looked to the men and smiled. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome, sweetness, come, let's eat." Raoul said softly, choking back tears. Erik remained stone faced on the side where his mask couldn't hide his face.

That evening, after everyone went home and the house had been cleaned up Elodie went to sit with her Papa and Father, curious to know more about her mother. "What was she like, generally?"

Raoul smiled. "I think the best way to tell you about her would be from both our experiences, after all, we each knew a different Christine."

Erik nodded and brought her into his lap. "Yes, that is just as well, you may begin."

"Well," he sat by the fire and looked into the flames. "I met your mother when I was 14 years old, she had a scarf her papa gave her, and the day was windy. In fact it was so windy it blew the scarf right away from her and into the sea, I, seeing this, ran after it, into the frigid water and brought it back to her. We played every day that summer until I had to leave those parts. Then, some years ago, I saw your mother perform in an opera, Hannibal, was it? Yes, I believe so. I went to see her and we talked for some time afterwards. Elodie dear I was in love with your maman, but she loved your Papa, her Angel of Music. In the end love, and law brought them together."

"Did she love you though?"

"Oh yes for a time in a way, we were engaged for a short while, but she realized she loved me as a friend."

Elodie looked to Erik. "And what about you?"

How could he tell her? This innocent little girl that he had manipulated Christine in order to be with her?

"Elodie, I . . ."

"Your mother thought I was her Angel of Music, I tricked her you see. And so we would go down beneath the opera house and I would give her singing lessons. Oh what days those were! She had such a beautiful voice and she was so gentle, and kind! She treated me like I was normal, until she found out. She was very upset with me and went to Raoul, but she eventually understood my actions, knew how much I loved her and I think that's when she started to TRULY love me. We got married and two years later, we found out we were going to have you. Oh, your mother was so excited! She so desperately wanted you, and to be a good mother to you. But she was small and weak my love, and she passed away a few minutes after you were born." He smiled softly and kissed her forehead. "Oh but she loves you, I feel it myself it is so strong."

"Papa, is Maman the Anel of Music now?"

Slightly startled by the question Erik opened his mouth but couldn't find words momentarily. "We-, uh, oh. Yes I imagine so Elodie."

She yawned and stretched. "Well, I'm going to bed now before I pull another all nighter. Good night!" She kissed his cheek, then Raoul's and hurried upstairs to find her nanny.

Raoul turned to Erik. "You did not tell her that it as an arranged marriage?"

Erik sighed. "Elodie is indeed very smart for her age, very well spoken. But I want to save the law for when she is older none-the-less."

Raoul nodded. "I think that is wise also. Shall you need help to your room?"

"I shan't, thank you. I think I'll stay here for a bit. You go on up."

"Good night Erik."

"Good night Raoul." Raoul too hurried upstairs, leaving Erik in the parlor. He gently reached down and picked up the picture of his deceased wife and ran his fingertips over her face. "Oh, Christine! If only you could know how much I miss you, how much I still love you! Soon my darling, let me ready Raoul for his task as Elodie's father, then we shall be together again."

And so, he got up with a fight and turned out the light, then he carefully went up the long, white stairs, holding the picture close as if it were Christine herself. He knocked on his daughter's door, and was pleased to see her already asleep in her bed. Erik carefully moved to the dressing table, salvaged from the opera that had once belonged to her mother, and set the picture there. He then went to retire to his own room. The image of his sleeping daughter played over in his mind, reminding him of Christine and Raoul's song.

Little Lotte, let her mind wander

Little Lotte thought, 'Am I fonder of dolls?

Or of goblins of shoes, of riddles of frocks?

Or of chocolates?'

'No what I love best,'

Lotte said,

'Is when I'm asleep in my bed,

And the Angel of Music sings songs in my head

The Angel of Music sings songs in my head.'

And so Erik fell asleep, images of his dead wife running through his own mind, the roof of the opera with Raoul, then becoming his bride, telling him she was pregnant and then dying right after little Elodie was born.

Much thanks to Phantom Aria for the wonderful idea, one or two more chapters and then, I already have a sequel planned. Review please