I Can't speak French, in case anyone who might've read this wondered, so don't hold me to the words I use. Please R&R.

Chapter 4: No Going Back Now

Christine awoke to the sound of her little nymph giggling. She rose up on one elbow an looked to her daughter, standing by the great underground lake with her father. They were throwing rocks into it, Erik was making them skip, and Clarissa was splashing them both. Her stomach rumbled and the pair turned.

"Mama!" Clarissa skipped to her mother, and jumped on the bed.

"What are you doing up, eh?" She hugged her closely and pulled the rocks out of her hand. Christine threw them on the ground and dusted her little hands off.

"Mama! Papa was showing me how to throw."

"Yes, and getting you very dirty!"

She shook her head at Erik but he only shrugged.

"We were bored waiting for you."

"Well, be bored no more. Your mama is hungry!" Christine picked up her daughter and swung her around.

Erik admired them both, his little one bright-eyed and looking like her mother, and his wife, still mussed from sleep.

"I brought some food for us this morning." Erik lead them into his old planning room, where his mini-theatre replica among other items were stored. He sat them at a cleared table and brought out the food Madame Giry had secured for them.

"Will we start Clarissa today, Erik?" Christine began when they were done.

"Perhaps. It depends on Madame Giry and the rehearsals for….Hannibal." He looked to his wife, who was acting unconcerned. Clarissa jumped up in her chair and into her Papa's lap.

"Papa! The man said my name yesterday. Why did he say my name?"

Erik sighed. "You remember the story I told you about the lady Clarissa and her lover Hannibal, yes?" She nodded. "Well, there is an opera, a show where people sing…"

"Like Mama use to?"

Christine smiled sadly.

"Oui, petite."

"Well, the man in the theatre is going to perform it."

Clarissa couldn't understand so she shrugged, still happy to have her name mentioned.

"Would you like to dance today, Clarissa?"

Clarissa nodded, then turned her face into her father's coat.

"But Papa…"

"Yes?"

"All the people…"
"I know." The child had the strangest mix of curiosity and fear. She was an exact mix of her mother and father. She stroked her Papa's unmasked cheek.

"Not hiding, Papa?"

"Not yet darling. Shall we?" Christine got up and got dressed in a dress that Madame Giry had gotten from their driver. She buttoned up the simple blue gown and grabbed Clarissa's shoes.

"Perhaps you should grab your own?" Erik held out her own ballet shoes and a leotard. Christine blushed.

"I'm not sure if I want to dance in front of all those people. I'm not the same girl I was then."

Erik brushed her face with his hand. "You look exactly how I remember you then. Just a little more mature." He turned to his daughter.

"Clarissa, let's go. " He put on his mask and but Clarissa on his hip.

The trio made their way around his lair and into the bowels of the opera house. They eventually reached the stage area, where costumers were pinning costumes to their charges. Slave girl outfits for the chorus girls…and grand gaudy things for the leads.

Christine could hear the giddy laughter and excitement of a rehearsal. She could smell the sweat of already warmed up bodies…and she yearned. She could see Meg putting chalk on her shoes and she wanted…

"I have to …" She took her tights, leotard and shoes, along with Clarissa, and went to a spare dressing room. She changed quickly and put both their shoes on. Erik watched with humor and sadness. He knew she'd missed this. She stood up and grasped Clarissa's hand.

"Well, no going back now."