A/N: All right…this was requested…more of this story! Hehe, here's another chapter for you all. There's one more planned after this one and then I believe it really will be the end. :P
To my reviewers…you all are the best!
Midasgirl: Yes, those thousands of grinning faces convinced me…haha. Thank you so much for reviewing, it means a lot to me
Angelic Lawyer: Your reviews are a pleasure to read, truly! Thanks : )
Christine Persephone: It amazes me that such a brilliant author enjoys reading my nonsense. Ah, that's a review that can make my day
celtic-lyre: Yes, I'm aware that Christine's hair is really blonde, but in this story she wanted to go for the ALW look, hehe
Fantome: I love your reviews…hehe, thank you!
Riene: What can I say? You flatter me…and I appreciate it too.
Aenigmatic, Olethros, RubyMoon2, Ilandra, Tranquill, lafantome574, Jenn, Mystic Darkness, AngelMusic, and Catherine Morland: Thanks so much for reading and taking the time to review! You rule.
And now, enough of that…here you are. The next chapter! Onward!
Christine's sobs stopped abruptly in one quick intake of breath. She heard music…someone singing…
Her heart began to pound until she was straining to hear the song above it. Oh such singing it was! The only way she could think of to describe it was…heavenly.
Her hand rose to her mouth. Heavenly! An angel! Could it be that her father had finally heard her plea? Finally remembered his promise?
She swung her feet around and sat up, her eyes automatically drifting upwards as if an angel might appear there, floating above her head, at any moment.
The strangest thing was…as the angelic voice continued she had the bizarre feeling that there was something familiar about it. That was quite impossible of course. It wasn't every day she had angels singing in her dressing room and she was sure that's what the voice was. But now that she had the thought in her head…the voice sounded familiar.
She strained her ears, trying to listen more closely. Was it really possible that she had heard this impossibly magnificent voice before? It was a man's voice…despite its incredible, unearthly beauty and lightness, it remained a man's voice. Did she know a man who could sing like this? Oh, but it sounded so familiar! Now she was certain she had heard it before.
Slowly, her thoughts became more jumbled, until she could no longer think straight. She sank to the floor, surrendering herself to the song of the mysterious voice that had come to her so suddenly. She was lost, floating away on the golden notes that wafted through the air all around her.
Suddenly it stopped, that glorious music stopped! Christine leapt to her feet in alarm.
"Please!" she called out, not sure which direction to face. "Wait…please don't leave."
Her plea was met with silence. Tears sprang to her eyes. No! Her angel wouldn't have just left her! He must be there still… She decided to address him again, certain he hadn't left her already, at least trying to feel certain.
"Who…who are you?"
Silence.
"Please! Please say something…" Christine was getting worried now. "I know I didn't imagine it," she said to herself. "I did hear singing! I know I did." She crossed to the center of the room, her eyes looking up. "Are you here?" Christine bit her lip, struggling not to start crying again. "Please come back!"
"Christine…"
She gasped loudly. The voice was there, he said her name!
"Who…are you?" she asked again.
"I heard you calling, Christine," the voice said, speaking louder this time.
Christine was shocked by how familiar it sounded…to hear that voice saying her name. But yes, she had been calling, calling for her father, for an Angel of Music.
"Then…are you the Angel of Music?" she asked straight out, so anxious was she to hear the answer.
There was a pause, but then the voice responded, "I am whatever you want me to be, my child. I've come to help you."
Christine wished she could see him, or at least know where the voice was coming from. Most of all she wished to know why it sounded so familiar to her.
She settled for the easier of her questions. "Where are you?"
"I am all around you, child."
This wasn't the answer Christine had wanted, but she decided that asking again wouldn't help any. And there seemed to be truth to this statement. It did indeed sound like the voice came from several different directions all at the same time.
She fell silent now, unaware of what to say next. Her Angel of Music had come…now what? He would help her wouldn't he? Help her to sing? His voice almost startled her when he spoke again.
"You will hear from me often. I will look after you, Christine. Your voice will be great."
Christine touched her throat, wondering if all this could really be possible.
"I will leave you now. I shall meet you again, tomorrow after rehearsal. Do not be late. All will be explained then."
"Oh please don't go!" Christine said, unwilling to be left alone again.
"I must. Tomorrow…" With that his voice faded away into nothing.
Christine dropped to her knees again, her eyes wide with wonder. She looked down at her arm, then quickly pinched it. She rejoiced in the slight pain she felt. It hadn't been a dream. Her Angel of Music had come at last.
Her aching muscles screamed in pain as Christine took off running the moment she was dismissed from rehearsal. Meg called after her, but she barely heard. She didn't stop, oh no. The voice had said he would meet her again after rehearsal…and she mustn't be late!
When she reached her dressing room, she quickly closed the door and turned the key in the lock. At any other time she probably would have collapsed on the floor, but not now. No, she found herself full of a sudden excitement. Everything would be explained today.
And she was glad of that… The magic of the voice in her dressing room had thrilled her so much yesterday. But then when she was home, lying in bed, unable to sleep for thinking about it so much…was such a thing really possible? Why did she know that voice? All would be explained today…
There was no sound from anywhere, so Christine assumed the angel, if he was indeed her angel had not arrived yet. He probably hadn't counted on her running. She sat down on the small divan and deftly removed her pointe shoes, throwing them on the floor rather than putting them away properly. She then stood to take a robe down from one of the hooks on the wall to put on. The corps had not been in full costume that day, but Christine was still barely dressed the way she was.
Tying the belt of the robe tightly around her waist, she sat down on the divan again to wait. She was getting more and more anxious now. She had been in the room no more than five minutes, but already she was ridiculously impatient. It was strange for her to feel that way, but she could hardly help it. She couldn't remember feeling this way…excited…nearly happy… It seemed her father had died so long ago… Her depression had made the days long. But this day had flown. She had danced better than she ever had before, been cheerful for the first time in anyone's memory.
Now, however, as she sat waiting, she began to wonder if perhaps it had all been just her imagination… Though she feared this, she knew that she could never have created such a voice in her mind. It had been here in this room and she had heard it. She would wait.
Her legs began to swing back and forth, a childish habit, but one that kept her impatience at bay.
Should she call out to him? Oh she wished he would come! She wanted to hear that voice again… Oh that voice…
"You did well today, Christine."
Christine started, even though the statement was soft and warm. She had been startled out of her thoughts and was thrilled to hear that voice again! All would be explained.
Temporarily she was speechless. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she managed to stutter, "You…you were watching rehearsal?"
"Oh yes," the voice said lightly. "I always watch."
"Oh, well…thank you. I…was thinking of you. It helped me," she said softly, blushing slightly. Christine wondered then, if this was the proper way to talk to an Angel.
"But you belong in the spotlight, child, singing, sharing your gift with this city."
Christine looked down at her hands, enjoying the praise offered. She said nothing and a few moments of silence passed between them. Finally she said, "Excuse me, but…" She stopped, biting her lip nervously. "You said…that 'all would be explained' today. I was wondering…"
"Of course, child."
Christine's hands twisted together in her lap as she anxiously awaited what he would say. Perhaps… Dare she tell him that his voice sounded familiar to her?
~~~~~~~~~~
Erik stood close to the mirror, trembling from just being so near to her again. Oh…if only the glass did not separate them! If only he could just open the mirror, step into the room, and tell her what she meant to him! If only that were possible…
But wait…maybe it would be possible… Maybe if he told her, reminded her of that fair. Would she remember? She had been a very small child he knew… But oh, what if he did tell her about it and she remembered… What if the guise was unnecessary?
"Angel?"
He realised then that he hadn't answered her. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, coming to a decision that could ruin his contact with her, but he had to try. It was a very strong what if…
"Do not call me that, child."
Her brow creased in confusion. Oh, she was beautiful.
"But…"
"I must tell you, Christine…" He paused. "When you were young, your father took you to fairs. You would sing while he played the violin."
He watched her eyes widen as she looked about her. "That's right…" she said softly. The sadness in her returned, he could see it. Her shoulders slumped, her voice hinted tears. He regretted his statement now, but it was too late. He had begun.
"You were very young…a fair in Sweden. You wandered off," he continued, recounting the story as he remembered it. "There was a magician who called himself an enchanter, Erik the Enchanter. He did tricks, he sang…he handed you two roses that day."
Erik realised then that he hadn't been watching her as he spoke, his eyes were unfocused, staring blankly down at the floor. He summoned his courage then to look up. Christine sat frozen, as if in disbelief. He was very close to turning around and running back to his house beneath the opera and never leaving it again.
Then, suddenly, instead of saying anything, Christine jumped up and practically flew across the room to her vanity. She dropped to her knees, opened a drawer and started to dig through it. Erik watched this with curiosity, though the urge to run was still present.
Finally, Christine sat back on her heels with a weathered, leather-bound book in her hand. She opened it carefully as she whispered. "Papa showed me how to press them, so I could keep them…"
With that she lifted the dried, delicate flower, the colour nearly faded with age. But it had most certainly been red. Erik's heart began to pound painfully. She had kept his rose! …What did that mean?
Christine held the flower very gently between her fingers. She touched it to her lips, then replaced it in the book which she then closed and placed on top of the vanity. Erik merely watched her, not knowing what to do next, now that he had exposed himself for what he was.
"Your voice sounded familiar."
She had remembered him.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope to hear what you think of this…so…please review! Thank you : )
