Well Erik, are you ready for the last chapter?
Erik: Yeah, I guess... I'm still mad at you, though...
Well, you're not the only one. Let's get to it.
Em: Sorry about him dying. However, now Erik has plenty of time on his hands to watch Boogeyman with you, right Erik?
Erik: At least she still cares about me!
darklady5289: Ouch! That sounded vaguely threatening...
Erik: What did she say?
Basically, she agrees with your foul language and there's a Punjab lasso with my name on it!
Erik: Alright! Tonight she gets to sit next to me for the movie. Nice to see you get partially flamed now and then.
phantomfreak258: Erik, have you been jipping this girl on closet time?
Erik: Uhh...
Erik! You mean to tell me that you've been stiffing our loyal fans on their well-deserved closet time?
Erik: Hey, there's only so many hours in a day!
Sheesh... You owe her big! Other than that, she's quite confident that there will be some miraculous ressurection, otherwise I fear for my health. Apparently I'm breaking all sorts of written rules! Maybe I should have killed Raoul instead!
Erik: Sounds good to me!
Tadriendra of Mirkwood: Hey, you can't have Erik! He's like a brother to me! Who says I'm done with him?
Erik: Huh?
Oh, nothing... We're watching Pirates of the Caribbean next... She's got Will Turner in her closet with Legolas! Wait... Does she realize they're the same person?
Erik: She wants me and Brad Pitt, too?
She's also got tigers... I've got to hang out in her closet sometime! By the way, she says quit being so rude to me! At least I made your death comfortable!
Erik: It was still death!
Paige Turner3: It was very brief...
Erik: What did she say?
Not much... I think she was a little upset...
zero sparrow: I like this girl... I like her a lot! She thinks I'm wonderful, even when the logical thing to do would be to tell me what a horrible person I am for killing you... And she thinks you're sexy when you speak in French...
Erik: (wink-wink) Vive le moi, baby!
Oh, please...
Erik: Venez passer le temps avec moi dans mon cabinet!
Did you just ask her to come hang out with you in your closet?
Erik: You understood that?
Canadian, baby! It's mandatory that we take a total of at least eight years of French education during school...
Erik: Physco...
Why, thank you... Now, onto our last chapter... Maintenez votre bouche fermée et lisez-la, Erik! (Keep your mouth shut and read it, Erik!)
XxXxX
5 years later…
"Christine! You're practically bouncing in that seat!"
"Oh, Raoul! Is it really the finale already? The whole performance has been wonderful!"
Christine smiled at Richard, who she could see in the orchestra pit from Box Five at the Opera Populaire. It turned out that Richard was quite talented with the bassoon. This was the first time he had ever performed in public, and he was marvellous!
The curtain rose for the final scene. Marie-Eve, now fifteen years old, stepped out in a beautiful shimmering gown.
"Weep not for me, my love," she sang. "Soon I'll feel no pain. Don't cry those tears, for we will meet again. Don't ask me to stay, for I have no choice. Don't let your heart be sad, but let your soul rejoice. I am going to see an angel, and I'll watch over you. Just live your young life, sing now, that's all I want you to do. I'll be there in the sunlight, in rain I'll kiss your face. I am the wind that follows you, that catches your embrace. You know I'll never leave you, we'll never be apart. I love you, my darling… And I am in your heart…"
The audience, who had spent the entire time transfixed by Marie-Eve's voice, burst into applause. Marie-Eve curtsied deeply, then looked up, smiling at her parents in Box Five.
The curtain fell and Marie-Eve rushed away to her dressing room. Madame Giry intercepted her on the way to her door.
Madame Giry and Marie-Eve had become close when, four-and-a-half years earlier, she came to begin her career as a singer at the Opera Populaire. Marie-Eve knew of the close relationship Madame Giry had shared with her biological father… The woman became one of the few people Marie-Eve could confide in.
Madame Giry put her arms around Marie-Eve's shoulders, tears in her eyes. "You were beautiful, my dear," she whispered. "He would have been proud… I wish he could have seen you…"
Marie-Eve smiled faintly… This opera had been called An Angel's Wings… And every word she sang made her think of him…
Marie-Eve entered her dressing room and changed quickly. Her parents and brother were waiting for her when she finally emerged.
"You were superb, my darling," Christine said, coming forward to embrace her.
"Just excellent," Raoul added, planting a kiss on her forehead.
"Thank you, Papa… Mama…" she replied. She looked at Richard. "You were sublime, Monsieur," she said grandly.
"As were you, dear sister," Richard replied, suavely kissing her hand.
"We were thinking about going to dinner…" Christine said. "Do you wish to join us?"
"I thank you for the offer, Mama, but if it's all the same, I wish to remain here a while longer…"
"Certainly…"
"Of course," Christine reflected. "She needs time after she sings… She wouldn't even think of leaving here right after a performance…"
"Any idea how long you'll need?" Raoul asked.
"A little while," Marie-Eve replied. "Go, enjoy your supper… I'll be along later…"
Bidding her farewell, her family left. Marie-Eve returned to her dressing room briefly to retrieve her cloak. She donned it, its black velvet blanketing her in warmth. With hasty steps she made her way up to the roof.
Snow was gently falling. A few flakes clung to her ebony hair, making a halo about her head. She sat at the foot of Apollo's lyre, her breath coming out in little white clouds. From the night sky, stars shone brightly forth, lighting up the earth below. A great, yellow full moon sat as the centrepiece in the sky, drawing her gaze. It seemed almost to smile at her as she sat perfectly still, watching it. It reminded her of a giant yellow eye.
Her thoughts were drawn to a man with similar eyes… Eyes that were exactly like her own… She thought of how tender those eyes were, how they had pleaded with her to love him… To look past his poor face and see him for who he truly was…
He truly was an angel…
"Papa," she whispered to the moon. "I hope I pleased you tonight…"
She sat there for a long time, simply staring at the yellow eye that called to her. The cold was beginning to penetrate her warm cloak and bite at her skin. Marie-Eve shivered slightly.
Then, all at once, the cold was gone. Marie-Eve felt a presence near her. A black shadow closed in around her like swirling mist. She closed her eyes, letting the shadow envelop her, sinking into his embrace.
"You made angels weep tonight," a silky voice whispered into her ear.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. His strong arms tugged her close, his black cloak falling around her shoulders.
Erik pressed his lips against her temple, pulling a smile from the girl.
"I could not have sung it if my teacher had not trained me so well," Marie-Eve replied, snuggling closer to his warmth. "The music was beautiful, Papa…"
Yes… Erik had composed An Angel's Wings… It was a true masterpiece and no one could have sung it better than Marie-Eve.
More importantly, it was the first opera he had ever written that was not a tragedy…
"It was very kind of you to let my parents watch from Box Five, Papa," Marie-Eve said graciously.
"It was your brother's first performance. They deserved to watch from the best seat in the house. Tell Richard that I send my congratulations… his playing was beautiful." Erik smiled slightly. "A beautiful instrument to accompany a beautiful voice…"
"I didn't think you'd be there tonight," Marie-Eve said. "Where were you? Not in Box Five…?"
"I was above you…"
"What? You watched the whole opera from the catwalks?"
Erik shrugged. "Anything to hear my angel sing…" He frowned. "Though I must speak to my managers about that dress…"
Marie-Eve furrowed her brow. "Why? What was wrong with it?"
"Oh, nothing! Nothing at all! You looked stunning. So much so, I fear that all my free time will be taken up keeping an eye on all those boys who will wish to court you!" He lowered his voice. "My managers must understand that my daughter is too young to be courted!"
Marie-Eve nudged him playfully. "You wish me to remain a little girl forever?" she smiled.
"As long as possible…"
She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Erik raised a gloved hand and brushed an ebony lock from her face. Suddenly, he felt very grateful that God wasn't the only One allowed to lay His eyes upon an angel.
God… Did He truly exist? It was something he would have to think about… Something he would have to consider. If He did exist, surely He was a cruel Being… He allowed Erik to suffer for so many years, denying him happiness and love, throwing trials at him everywhere he went…
But then… if God did exist… He had bestowed upon Erik the most precious of gifts… He had given Erik a heart that knew how to love… A heart that was passionate… He had given Erik the gift of music…
And He had given Erik an angel…
Through all the trials that Erik had faced, he had never been in a situation that didn't – somehow, some way – turn out alright. His mother's hatred of him had given him the chance to discover for himself who he truly was. His mistreatment as the Shah's slave had taught him how to find peace in his music. All the time he spent being abused by Robert Boisvert had given him the determination to hang on when things seemed their worst. And it all came down to meeting Christine, learning how to love someone else, and, in time, learning how to love a child.
Then, of course, there was Erik's sudden recovery after being shot, which was nothing short of miraculous…
Perhaps God wasn't such a terrible Fellow after all…
"Papa?" Marie-Eve glanced up at him inquiringly. Why did he look so distant all of a sudden?
In the distance a church-bell rang, its chimes resonating clearly through the night.
Erik smiled faintly. "Did you know," he said, "that every time a bell rings, an angel receives his wings?"
Marie-Eve looked into his eyes. "You think an angel just got his wings?" she asked amusedly.
Erik looked completely serious. "I know one did…"
She nuzzled up against him, her fingers entwining with his. "Sing to me, Papa?"
He smiled. "If I do, you'll fall asleep and I'll have to carry you home!"
She pouted, gazing at him with yellow eyes that were identical to his. "But I am worth it, aren't I Papa?"
He sighed and began. "Hush-a-bye, mon ange. You'll be alright. Hush-a-bye, mon ange. Sleep through the night. Let me caress you, let nighttime possess you. Hush-a-bye, mon ange. You'll be alright. Angels sing for you, they come and implore you, "Don't be afraid, for you'll be alright." Hush-a-bye, mon ange. You'll be alright. I'm right here watching you through the night… I'll always be watching, so you'll be alright."
His voice faded into the night. He looked down at the girl in his arms. Just as he had suspected, she had fallen asleep. He smiled faintly, then placed a kiss on her cheek. He thought he saw the corners of her mouth twitch upwards as he did so.
He would have to carry her home, he knew. Fortunately, her family lived not far from the opera house, as Marie-Eve and Richard both performed at the theatre now and the Vicomte and Vicomtesse de Chagny were both involved with the Opera's business affairs.
He knew it was getting late and cold, but he remained seated where he was for just a bit longer, basking in the feeling of his daughter within his arms. He lifted a gloved finger and caressed her sleeping face. Then Erik's gaze was drawn upwards to the multitude of shining stars that smiled down upon them.
"Yes, my child…" Erik whispered into her ear. "Tonight, an angel received his wings."
THE END
XxXxX
Well, Erik? Are you satisfied? Am I everyone's favourite authoress, now?
Erik: Yes! I'm still alive!
I had you going for a while there, didn't I?
Erik: You know what's depressing, though? With this being the last chapter, there won't be any more phan-girls bringing me popcorn.
Or watching bad horror movies with you.
Erik: The Ring was my favourite!
Don't worry, Erik… Since this is the last chapter, all of our readers are automatically invited to a pizza party in your closet.
Erik: What? Dozens of squealing, flirting phan-girls? That's it! I'm coming out of the closet!
Erik! I never would have guessed!
Erik: Huh? No! Not that kind of coming out of the closet! Oh, you sick demon-child!
Well, Erik… It's time to say thank you to all our readers… Since they all love you, why don't you give the appreciation speech?
Erik: Oh, alright… Thank you everyone who reviewed… We enjoyed hearing what you had to say about the fic and we appreciated the constructive criticism… Thank you to everyone who read the story, we hope you liked it. Thank you everyone who brought popcorn, movies, snacks, etc, to my closet. I enjoyed them. And thank you to everyone who did their best to save me from the authoress by reviewing frequently.
Aww… That was sweet…
Erik: Yeah… I guess I still feel a little depressed that it's over.
Don't worry, Erik… I've got another fic lined up and ready to go!
Erik: You do?
Yeah. But unfortunately, we won't be able to start it up for another month, 'cause I'm going to be spending the next four weeks in Brazil.
Erik: You're going to Brazil? Yes! Four weeks without the authoress! Yay!
You're coming with me in my carry-on.
Erik: What? No! Spare me the torture!
Don't worry. You've got another four days to mentally prepare yourself. As for our readers, keep your eye out for my next fic, which I'll start posting at the end of August. It's name is Monsieur and Madame le Fantôme.
Erik: I kind of like that name. Do I marry Christine?
You'll have to wait and find out. So come on out and read that fic, and we'll let the closet mayhem unfold again! So come on out and read that fic, and we'll let the closet mayhem unfold again!
Erik: Have you no shame?
No… Not really… It's been great hearing from you guys. See you all at the party tonight!
Luv you all, and God bless!