A/N: I just want to say THANK YOU so much to all the reviewers and everyone who has encouraged me, supported me, given me thoughts and advice, and made me laugh. I honestly thought that nobody would read this… now I have more than 800 reviews, and I'm not only astounded at the number, but how good 99.9 of them are! I feel really sad updating the final chapter… I mean, this fic was like my baby for more than five months, and now its over! hums it's over now, the music of the niiiight… But thanks for coming along for the ride… and I hope to see you again next time. Make sure you put me on your author alert list – because this won't be the last you'll hear of me:D
Emily singing reflection: Hmm… is that a good "ahh" or a bad "ahh"?
Misty Breyer: I mean, Erik knows what its like to have his love unrequited – so it only makes sense that he should feel sorry for Raoul!
MouetteHeartsErik: Now you've got me laughing, too!
mymagic: I was kinda opting for use of the phrase "If you love someone, let them go". Also, Raoul had kind of admitted to himself that Christine had loved Erik all along. :)
PhantomFan13: Why were you disappointed?
diveprincess:blink: umm… what didn't just happen? lol!
Phantomluvr: Aww, thanks.
LoverofBalto: When does she get Erik? She gets him… now.
Pirates are a girls bestfriend: I never liked Raoul much until I wrote this story, lol. And YES YES YES, I'll be writing more fics!
phantomann & soccernat11: It was just my opinion that he'd let Christine go graciously… because he is just that, a gentleman. And he wants her to be happy. :)
Missie-My-Dear, Erik'sTrueAngel, C.E. Hobbit & tumblingxdown: Cookies for you!
groundedangel: I can't stand abusive/violent Raoul!
Captain Oblivious & Lady Skywalker: Well I think Erik's got it through his head now that she loves Raoul in a more "platonic" sort of way. :)
tumblingxdown: No, I didn't know that… but I do now!
Reltistic: That was what I was trying to convey. :)
Chapter 27Raoul led Christine out of the ballroom and back through the drawing rooms, making excuses when other partygoers stopped them. "Mademoiselle Daae is feeling ill," he would murmur, and people would nod and move politely out of their way, some eyeing Christine in speculation. After collecting her cloak Raoul had the carriage brought around, and helped Christine into it. After directing the driver to take her swiftly back to Francois and Marie's house, Raoul stood with his hands on the window frame, staring up at her.
"I hope we will meet again sometime soon," Christine said softly, placing her hand over his and gazing down at him.
"Yes." He was silent for a moment. "Are you sure this is what you want, Christine?"
She nodded. "Yes – I'm sure."
"Then… I wish you the best of everything, Christine."
She smiled and felt tears well up again. "Thank you – and the same for you, Raoul." He placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles and stepped away from the carriage, signaling to the driver and glancing once more at Christine. The corner of his mouth lifted in that boyish smile she knew so well, and the carriage lurched into movement and Raoul was swiftly out of view.
It seemed like only seconds until she was deposited back at the house. The butler inquired as to why she was back from the ball so early, and asked if she was unwell – she assured him she was fine and went straight up to her room.
Christine sank onto the bed, not caring that she was crushing the fine material of her gown. She felt emotionally ravaged; her hands were trembling, and she wanted to crawl under the cool covers and hide away until morning. Her childhood friend was gone now – would she ever see him again? Guilt weighed heavily on her, assuaged only by Raoul's gracious acceptance of her choice and the knowledge that he bore no grudge against her.
I should've known… I suppose I… I always knew.
His words echoed in her head. But she was sure he would easily find another young lady to share his life with – one that he loved more than her, no doubt of it. Their love had always been such a sweet and platonic kind… so different from the soul-deep bond that existed between Erik and her. She only hoped that one day she would see Raoul again – he had been such a large part of her life, for so long. She could remember the day they met as if it were yesterday…
The little girl meandered across the sand and rocks of the shore, singing a tune to herself under her breath. The wind caught at her curls and tossed them this way and that, the faint cry of gulls and the rush of the waves all but drowning out her pure yet childish voice.The wind was blowing harder, and it whistled in through her clothes and chilled her. But she was determined not to go home just yet, and she pulled her coat closer around her and unwound her scarf for a moment in order to secure it more tightly.
A sharp gust of cold air burst against her suddenly and snatched up the scarf – she cried out, but the wind was heedless to her plea and it buffeted the scarf out into the waves where it landed, a patch of red amongst the frothy dark sea.
The child felt tears welling up in her eyes – her father had given the scarf to her as a present, and now she would never get it back! But before she could turn to run home in distress, she heard a determined little voice behind her shout, "I'll fetch your scarf!"
She turned in surprise to see a young boy dash past her, and an older woman behind calling out indignantly for him to stop. But the boy plunged on ahead into the icy water, stretching his arms out as he plowed through the waves and grabbed onto the scarf before it disappeared beneath the sea.
The little girl let out a cry of delight and ran down to the water's edge as the boy made his way back to shore, sopping wet but with the scarf gripped tightly in his hand and an expression of triumph on his face.
"There, you see," he said exultantly, "I have rescued it!" He wrung the soaking material out and handed it to her – she giggled joyfully and kissed his cheek, much to his surprise.
"Thank you, I would have been so very sad if I had lost it – "
She was interrupted by the lady in black rushing up to the boy. "Master Raoul!" she fussed, "What a rash thing to do! You'll catch your death!"
Raoul looked at the lady and laughed boyishly. "I am sorry, but I couldn't let the scarf be swept away!"
He looked back at the little girl. "What is your name?"
She smiled shyly. "Christine Daae."
"This is my governess, and I am Raoul de Chagny." Christine thought the name sounded very important indeed – but the boy did not seem at all arrogant, in fact quite the opposite with his soaking clothes, mischievous grin and blond hair plastered to his face.
The governess was ushering him away, berating him for his recklessness, but he called back, "Maybe I will see you sometime?"
Christine smiled after him, clutching the sodden scarf in both hands. "Perhaps!"
A wide grin spread across her face at the memory. A dozen others seemed to fly into her mind…
Christine ran after Raoul as he leapt up the steps to a little cottage, knocking on the door without hesitating. An older woman answered it, raising her eyebrows when she saw the two children on her doorstep.
"Please, Madame," Raoul asked, "Do you have story to tell us?"
Oh, she could remember that very well – on rare occasions the door would be shut in their faces, but most often the kindly folk of the village would smile and indulge them in their request…
The pair sat on the grassy cliff overlooking the moonlit beach, their eyes trained on the circle of mushrooms a little ways away. They had both snuck out from their respective houses to come and see the faeries. They had been told a story that day about the faeries and "korrigans" that danced by night on the heather. Both were determined to see them.
"I'm cold, Raoul," Christine whispered. "And I can't see. Its too dark!"
"We'll see them," he replied resolutely, with that firm set to his jaw that was becoming so familiar to her, "We'll see them once they come! And here – " he shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to her. "You should have brought a coat. But don't talk anymore, or you'll frighten them away!"
Much to the chagrin of the two children, no faeries appeared that night, and were both given a sound scolding by their households once they were caught slipping through their windows.
"Next time," Raoul said determinedly as soon as their separate punishments had ended and they were allowed to see each other once more. "We'll see them dance the next time!"
She nearly laughed out loud at the memory. Oh, she would miss him so much…
But it was Erik's words that slipped into her reflections and brought her back to the present.
I will come for you…
The thought made her sit up straight on the bed. She and Erik had been parted too long, and she yearned at the thought of his presence. I will come for you… when? Where? Oh, he loved to keep her on tenterhooks!
But as she sat and pondered, the answer became slowly clear – he would come here, to this house. He knew she would be here; where else would he expect to find her in order to her away?
The thought filled her with apprehension and exhilaration; now that the idea had planted itself in her mind, she felt sure of his intentions.
She gazed around the room that had been her home for these past weeks. It felt strange to realize that she would be leaving it behind. And it was not just this house that she would leave behind… it was her whole world, everything she knew and had ever known. The notion was daunting and somewhat frightening.
She thought of Meg; her first friend when she had come to the Opera. She remembered how they would sit up late in the dormitories and whisper with the other girls and gossip and play games to determine who they would marry. A particular favorite was sticking two apple seeds on either cheek, naming each one after a man, and whichever one stayed the longest was your true love.
She thought of Madame Giry; of her intense desire for perfection in all the dancers, and will to obtain it at all costs, even if it meant keeping a girl hours after practice! But that formidable sternness hid a kindly nature; after all, it was she who had brought Christine to the Opera in the first place.
She thought of Carlotta and the Opera managers; now that were a group she did not mind saying goodbye to! But, in her heart of hearts, she knew that she would miss the familiarity of their boisterousness, even if not the actual people themselves.
She thought of that first night on stage – Carlotta had abdicated her throne of reigning diva, even if only for a little while, and, somehow, she had taken Carlotta's place. That night had been somehow enchanted – the bright footlights, the extravagant gown, the audience's eyes all trained on her, the standing ovation she received at the end of the aria. And the knowledge that somewhere, her angel was listening, and she was sure he would be pleased with her performance.
She remembered that night – her angel had made himself manifest and led down all those stories beneath the opera house to that magical place on the lake. The next day it had seemed hazy, but now she could remember it all too clearly. She could remember it all – the enchantment of that first night in his lair, the shock of the following morning… her fear after Buquet's death, the solace she sought in Raoul's arms… the duel in the cemetery, the passion and fire of Don Juan… the intensity afterwards in his lair; Raoul's pleas, her begging, Erik's rage… the kiss that followed, the moment of truth, the realization of where her heart truly belonged…
Memories flooded her and she felt each emotion touch her once more as if reliving the event. Such force, such intensity, such passion and fear and rage and love… it overwhelmed her to look back on it. Who ever would have guessed she would end up where she was now!
For a fraction of a second, the thought flitted through her mind – is this really what you want to do? But it was gone almost before the sentence completed itself. She knew, deep in her gut that this was what she wanted. It was not so long ago that she had been afraid of Erik… but that emotion seemed almost alien to her now. She trusted Erik, and knew he would never hurt her and that he would always be by her side to protect her. Music was her passion, and Erik's too – together they would create such beautiful compositions. She could picture now his fingers dancing along the piano, his hand flying across a sheet of paper as he scribbled down the notes as she sang them. Will we have children? she suddenly wondered. She could only imagine his hesitancy and tentativeness with a child. The idea made her smile.
Eternity seemed to yawn before her as she contemplated life with Erik; and the reflection left her with a content, blissful feeling in the pit of her stomach – along with that touch of exhilaration he always awakened in her. Yes, she knew just what she was doing – and she welcomed the idea of her future with open arms. Erik…
Her romancing was suddenly interrupted by the thought of Marie; her bright eyes and ready grin, her energetic charm, her never-ending eagerness to buy hats and shawls and ribbons… on impulse, Christine got up and tiptoed down the hall, retrieving writing supplies from Marie's room and returning to her own, sitting at the vanity table and composing a short note to her.
Marie,
By now I am sure that Raoul will have related the situation to you. I am not sure what your reaction will be – I can only hope that he will have explained enough so that you know of the background to my actions. You have been so dear to me, taking me under your roof and treating me as if I were a part of your family. I doubt I can ever repay your kindness. I know that I shall miss you; perhaps we will meet again sometime.
Always,
Christine Daae
She signed the note with a flourish, folding it in thirds and setting it on the corner of the vanity table, neatly propped against the jewelry box. She was about to rise and go to the wardrobe and undress… when, suddenly, it seemed that she could hear a soft sound, all around her… confused, she tilted her head to the side to listen. The tune was almost inaudible, but familiar; the sound grew stronger and she could recognize it now, an old song from the Opera. She was puzzled for a moment, until the sound became more and more discernable, evolving from a mere tune into a faint singing… yes, it was an actual voice! Growing louder and louder, drawing closer and closer to her… a very familiar voice… one she knew all too well…
Christine smiled.
FIN