Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera, or anything associated with this spectacular story.
Summary: Madame Giry gets a touch of the Christmas blues. Guess who's there to help?
Note: Set before the 2004 ALW movie.
Thine Own Giry.
"-And Jammes told me that Jacques had asked her to talk a walk with him…and… Mama?" Meg Giry frowned. "Mama!"
"Hmm?"
Meg sighed in frustration. "Were you even listening to a word I said?"
Madame Giry smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, my dear. I was miles away." She patted her daughter's hand.
"I see that. Anywhere in particular?"
Giry smiled lightly. "Christmas is almost here."
Meg beamed. "I know! Oh, Mama! I can't wait, I really can't! I know you couldn't care less about the holiday, but oh, I could!" Meg's face flushed. "What did you get me?"
Giry rolled her eyes. "You know I won't tell you."
Meg pouted. "I know, but it doesn't hurt to try!"
A knock came suddenly at the door, and Meg flew towards it before Giry could even think about leaving her seat. She sighed in frustration as her daughter opened the door to her friends.
"Mama, we're going back to the dorms!"
Giry waved them away in annoyance; she could not tolerate giggling ballerinas in her down time. She breathed out heavily in relief at the door closed; maybe now she could have some peace…
"Antoinette."
…Or maybe not.
"What do you want Erik?" She snapped.
Erik raised his un-masked eyebrow and while smirking, made a mocking growling sound, to which Giry reacted by throwing a pillow at his head. Erik laughed richly.
"My, my. Aren't we temperamental today?"
Giry sighed. "Did you want something?"
Erik frowned lightly, and moved closer to Antoinette.
"I did, but it doesn't matter anymore… What's wrong Ann?"
Antoinette was touched by his apparent concern. She smiled and shrugged. "It's that time of year again."
Erik understood immediately.
"Christmas. The Christian holiday that's losing all meaning."
"That would be the one… I just don't see the excitement of Christmas… I never feel part of it."
She looked at Erik who seemed to have a mischievous smile upon his face. She sighed in patience. "What are you planning this time?"
Erik smiled and moved towards the secret entrance/exit to Giry's small apartment. "Wait and see."
Antoinette frowned as he disappeared.
Christmas day descended upon the Opera Populaire swiftly and Madame Giry sunk even further into her seasonal depression. Meg did not worry about this. She and everyone that lived in the Opera House knew it happened every year.
Antoinette watched from the shadows as her daughter and her friends ran around the small tree they had placed on the stage shrieking. She sighed. Christmas meant nothing to Antoinette. It never had, and she doubted it ever would.
A small movement from the balcony above the stage caught Giry's eye and she glanced up and groaned irritably. Erik was up there, and he was indicating for her to meet him. With a rueful sigh, Antoinette made her way slowly to Box Five.
Erik grinned teasingly as she entered the large box, an angry expression upon her face. "Merry Christmas, Ann."
"What do you want, Erik?"
He masked his hurt well, and lifted his head a notch higher. "I have something for you."
Antoinette raised an eyebrow.
Erik smiled. "You're intrigued. That's good enough for me. Now, we go down to the Catacombs."
Giry raised her other eyebrow as Erik linked his arm with her own and lead her down towards his lair.
The pair quickly made it to Erik's home, both knowing where every secret passage in the Opera House was located and where it leaded. Antoinette had to admit she was curious. He had not presented her with a gift since they were both children. What could Erik have for her?
She soon found out as Erik took his place at his grand piano, and struck up a soft melody, and his powerful yet gentle voice filled the room.
"Mine own saviour.
Thine own true friend.
One heart spells out rhythms for thee.
From this world I have been caged.
If only one would hold a key
You are the savoir to me.
Beaten, battered, bitten and bruised.
A heart of blackness
Hate for all men
Until thine own saviour given to me.
For you? This world for you.
Protector of my years
You know me well,
These sopranos
These ballet rats
That stagehand
A spineless brat
The ballet mistress…
She is different you know…
She is dark as ink
Her heart swells like a Don Juan rose.
Have a rose Giry
Have a rose from me
My years alongside you
And I have not shared a petal
Mine own saviour
Thine own true friend
Mine own secret beloved…"
Antoinette brushed away her seemingly never-ending tears, only for more to escape as he whispered the last line.
"…Thine own Giry."
Silence.
Erik looked down, embarrassed he had revealed years of pent up feelings in one moment, and worried he had alienated Antoinette forever.
"Erik…"
He slowly looked up to meet her eyes, and his breath caught as he saw the most beautiful smile that had ever graced the Ballet Mistress's face. He smiled in relief and got up from the Piano, moving closer to her.
"Merry Christmas, Ann."
Note from author: I hope you enjoyed this little fic, and please review. I'd make my day. The poem/song was written by my dear friend, Catherine Dyson.