Epilogue

"Elle! Elle, there you are! I've been looking for you everywhere."

Nadia's cheerful and excited voice startled Elle, who looked up from her spot on the stone floor in the chapel to see her friend running through the doorway. She was holding something in her hand and with her free hand pushed back some silky black hair out of her flushed face. Elle was kneeling before two lit candles and had just finished praying before the silence was interrupted. When Nadia entered the room Elle stood up, her long white dress sweeping down to the floor and creating a circle around her. Her blonde hair was down with the top pulled back and as she stood with the glow of the two candles behind her Nadia saw that she almost looked like an angel. Nadia knew what the candles were for, one for Elle's mother and one for her father, and she bowed her head respectfully before continuing.

"Here, I just received the newspaper. I thought you would want to be the first to read the review." Nadia handed over the folded paper that she had been carrying. She watched impatiently as Elle accepted the paper and opened it up to the appropriate section. When she read Nadia tried to read her facial expressions, hoping that the review was a positive one, but Elle showed no signs of acknowledgement.

Elle handed the paper back to Nadia when she was finished, commenting only, "Well, at least it is better then the last one." Then Nadia eagerly scanned the review, prepared for the worst.

"L'Opera Magnifique opened their newest production yesterday with success. The full house could be due not only to the House's popularity but to the new change in management, for many of the Opera House's patrons were anxious to see how this change would effect the establishment. Mademoiselle Elle D'aubigne, the previous owner's daughter, took over her father's position and that of the two previous directors, Mister Tremaine and Bolster, soon after her father's sudden death. All restlessly awaited the production of Le Masque, which was rumored to be written and directed by a mysterious and unknown man named Monsieur Durand. The unheard of opera was met with brilliant applause. It told the story of a man torn between two worlds, struggling to hold on to the woman he loved. Elle D'aubigne herself assumed the role of Angèle, her first major role. She astounded the audience with amazing vocals, which made people wonder why she had not taken Estelle La Rous's place sooner…"

Nadia looked up from the paper with a smile that Elle returned. "I told you, Elle. I told you that one day everyone would finally see what I see."

"Maybe you should have been a prophet instead of a dancer," Elle joyfully remarked. She did remember that conversation clearly, but did not wish to look back on the sadder times. At the moment she was too content to dwell on the past and there was too much to look forward to in the future. The day after the masquerade Erik finished the opera he had been working on, claiming that Elle had been his inspiration. He entitled the work Le Masque, after the mask that he no longer donned, and agreed to let Elle produce it. On his insistence they started lessons, preparing her for the role he said she was made for. Although she had gone quite a while without singing, it did not take long for the skills to return to her, talent was something that one did not simply lose with time.

With Elle in a lead role she needed some help directing, therefore Erik assumed the name Monsieur Durand. She had explained that the director had been caught in a fire several years before, which accounted for his face. He mostly kept out of the light, but those who did see him stared in surprise, not daring to say a word. Only the performers saw him, and they never made the connection between the mysterious new director and the missing Phantom. Many believed that the Opera Ghost had finally fled the building and, since nothing new occurred, the topic faded into history.

"I can always be both," she responded, folding the newspaper under her right arm and taking Elle's right arm in her left. Together they left the chapel behind, the two candles still burning in their absence.

The two young women were headed for the foyer to join the others in a toast to the previous night's success. Nadia chatted to Elle as they went along, her natural exuberance intensified by the sensational performance. As they rounded a corner she made a comment that grabbed Elle's attention. "And I do say that director Monsieur Durand reminds me of somebody I have seen before, I just cannot seem to place my finger on it."

Elle smiled, her left hand patting Nadia's arm. "I doubt it; he is not a native of Paris."

Nadia was silent for a moment, but then she burst out. "Wait, I have finally figured it out! He reminds me of that strange man from the masquerade. The one that I saw you dancing with."

"I can assure you, they are two very different men." Elle meant more with this statement then Nadia could ever understand, but the woman accepted her friend's assurance and eventually changed the subject of their conversation.

Later that day, when the opera house calmed down, Elle found herself walking alone down a dark passageway holding a lantern up to light the path before her. It created a circular glow that ended on the tip of Elle's face and glossed over the front of her dress. She took long strides, going over a path that she had carefully memorized after many visits. Her white dress flowed behind her and glided over the dirty stone ground.

When she reached the lake Erik was waiting for her, standing in the boat and offering out a hand. She did not hesitate in handing him the lantern with one hand and accepting his with the other. He helped Elle into the boat and then let go, using his hand to row the boat across the lake. They did not speak; more was said through their silence than could ever be explicated in words. Everything that had to be said already was and therefore the silence was a comfortable one in which there was no need or necessity to talk. Elle watched Erik as his strong arm propelled the boat forward. He was wearing a white blouse with a vest and black pants. Her eyes moved upward, up his arm, over his chest, and landed on his face. Erik was not wearing his mask. His face was illuminated by the lantern; she could see the sweat glistening on his brow. The smooth side of his left cheek contrasted sharply with the scarring over his right, but Elle did not even notice. She saw a face that was beautiful and perfect, just the way it was.

Erik's eyes were set ahead, but occasionally he glanced down at the woman beside him. He could hardly believe that he had come so far, after so many years of solitude. It was as if he was waiting to wake up one day and realize that he was all alone again, that Elle had abandoned him like so many others had throughout his life. He had a fear that she would be taken away from him, but every day came and went without change. Elle visited him frequently and he did the same with her, emerging from his lair more and more often.

The boat reached the other side of the shore and Erik offered his hand to Elle again, letting go only when he saw that she was standing firmly on the ground. He followed her, setting the lantern down by the boat. Dozens of candles were lit all over the main room, providing ample lighting for them. Erik, as usual, headed straight to his organ and sat down. Music was already opened up. Elle joined him by the instrument and waited.

"You did very well last night," Erik spoke deeply. "It was an excellent performance… but you still have more to learn."

"I know," Elle answered truthfully. "And I know that you can teach it to me."

"We have plenty of time for that, but now it is time for rejoicing. How about we sing the last scene of Act 2?"

Elle agreed and Erik began to play. When it was her turn she sang the song that she had rehearsed many times before.

"Tell me that you love me,

Tell me that I'm yours,

Tell me that I won't have to suffer anymore.

Take my hand in yours,

Lead me from this nightmare,

Into your arms of safety.

Don't let me stray from your side,

Because I cannot see without you,

You are my eyes."

When the song ended Elle was tired, but happy. There was nothing that she loved more than singing a duet with Erik, the way their voices responded to each other and entwined to create a bouquet of song. It was hard to believe that previously they were separated for over half a year. Spring had arrived and Elle felt as if the past were finally behind her. Nadia, although apparently unaware of her talents, had a knack for saying predictions that not only were designed to comfort Elle, but most of the time turned out to come true. Elle smiled as she thought back to her words. 'You have a new year ahead of you now, full of potential to be better then the last one was... There is a lot of difference that a year can make.'

And the difference was already beginning to show. Elle did not know the last time that she felt this optimistic and alive, aside from her first onstage experience. The previous night had revived her, so to speak, and reminded her how much she had missed the stage. Nothing could be compared to the feeling that a singer got when they finished an aria and an eager applause erupted from the audience. It was as if there was nothing else in the world, and Elle desired nothing more. The opera house was more then a home, it was a part of her. Elle never knew how Erik had come to stay at the house, but she could understand why he never left.

Erik had left the comfort of his organ and disappeared into an adjoining room. Elle watched him leave but did not ask where he was going; she merely acted as though she already knew. She wandered over to his organ, passing the wooden bench and tracing her thin fingers over the keys. There was a longing within her to play the instrument that had been used to write music unsurpassable by many, but Elle did not dare. Even though she was ignorant of the fact that Erik had crafted the instrument himself, she knew that it was personal- like the clothes on his back. She knew better then to cross the line with him, for she would have liked the same respect. Elle doubled back and took a seat at Erik's desk. It was clear except for a stack of parchment, a quill, and a small bottle of red ink. The wood of the table was worn and, as her hand barely touched the surface, Elle wondered how many letters and librettos Erik had written at that very spot. She could only guess.

She glanced up, pulling her hand back to her lap, to see that Erik had returned. His right arm was pulled behind his back, as though he were carrying something with his right hand. He stepped down and stopped a couple feet before where Elle was sitting, his face in an unreadable expression. Their eyes locked, and neither of them blinked as misty grey mingled with lush green. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then the expressions that they exchanged were priceless. They were both submitting to one emotion, one love, and one desire. The music brought them together and now, in the realm of music, they were at peace.

"I have something for you," Erik said, his hand tightening on the object behind him. He did not want to admit it, but a part of him was nervous about what her response would be. He had gotten used to Elle being around him while he wore no mask to cover his deformity, yet now he felt another level of vulnerability.

"A surprise?" Elle asked, a smile forming on her small pink lips.

"Yes, a surprise." Erik managed a half grin and brought around his right arm that had been behind him. His hand offered out the gift for her to take and Elle gingerly leaned forward to accept. It was a rose, a white rose, with a black satin ribbon tied about the stem, the exact same kind that Erik had given Elle on the night of her very first performance. She twirled it blissfully, remembering that night, and then something caught her eye.

The rose looked like the previous one had, except for one little change. This rose not only had a black ribbon tied around it, but there was something attached to the ribbon as well. Elle brought it closer, inhaling the saccharine fragrance, and saw there was a ring tied into the bow. The ring held a large, but not flamboyantly large, emerald in the middle with two small diamonds on either side. The stones were fixed onto a small ring of solid gold. As Elle realized what it was her eyes widened and shot up to Erik's, asking if this meant what she thought it did. Apparently Erik understood her.

"Elle, will you be my wife?" his musical voice asked, reaching out his hand to her.

"You don't have to ask. I was always yours."

Elle's free hand slipped into the hand that Erik offered her and he gently pulled her up off of the chair. With his other hand he lightly pulled the black satin ribbon bow and it came undone, the ring falling delicately into his palm. Elle's face glowed with a radiance that had been thought to have been extinguished months ago as she watched him slip the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit. She held the white rose up to her nose for a second before tossing it aside onto his desk and then turning back to him. Erik's long arms wrapped around Elle's body and she leaned into him, her face at the top of his chest. His head bended down to her and as his right hand grazed her cheek he pulled her into a kiss. Their bodies melted into one, a perfect fit just like the ring on Elle's finger.

Minutes later they were still standing, holding an embrace that neither wanted to end. Erik's hand was carelessly caressing Elle's blonde hair, his fingers intertwining with the strands. Elle's head was resting sideways on Erik's chest and she could hear his heart beating with each breath. "Erik," Elle spoke quietly. "Does this mean that you will be leaving this place, this life, behind- for good?"

Erik thought for a moment and then replied heavily. "Yes, I believe it does."

"Will you miss it, being the Phantom of the Opera?"

His eyes landed on the mask that he had discarded several weeks ago. They lingered for a moment and then turned to the woman he was holding in his arms. The decision was easy. "No, I'd much rather be with you."

THE END

A/N: The end at last. Sorry it took so long. I know it's a bit fluffy, but what do you expect from me? Anyway, thanks for the great reviews and I hope that you all enjoyed the ending. No time to respond to reviews, but thank you to every one who left one. It's sad that this story is over, but I am glad that you (those who reviewed) enjoyed it. Leave one more and tell me what you think. Thank you all for reading!