Ch.2: Never the End

Time passed too slowly for the Vicomtess de Chagney, but every day melted into the next without a feasible end in sight, surprisingly. Every day, Christine told herself that she was happy, that this was the proper life for her. She performed her social duties in a happy yet forced manner, and nobody ever thought anything to be wrong with her. Raoul was the same he had been for five years, faithful like a puppy dog and her best friend. No wait, this wasn't true. Her best friend had been with her since the hour she arrived in the opera house, much longer than Raoul. She only wished that she could talk to him, to see Delight again. If only it weren't impossible.

One day, when Raoul was out on political business, she stole around the house, checking to see if any of the servants were lurking about. Finding herself alone, she began to sing a shaky version of the song Erik had taught her when they were both still in their teens. Her voice gradually became surer and soon the whole house was filled with the beautiful music. With the volume of her tone, her spirits lifted themselves out of their fragile state. Maybe it was the extra energy singing gave her, but she hadn't felt this happy in months.

Even though it had been so many years ago, she knew the song as if it were a part of her soul:

Summer days and summer eves

With all that the dark bereaves

Wandering without a friend

Wandering, searching for the end

With none of the solace

And an unbearable cross

We needed each other, to watch, to guard

To be there until the end.

As she sang, she picked out the quick, precise ballet steps from an opera she'd participated in as a sixteen year-old. Suddenly the years began to melt away, all the pain and misery going with them. Even though the song and dance combination made her happy, it seemed empty. Well, it wasn't her song to enjoy alone. It was his song too. He had taught it to her. A hand suddenly lay on her shoulder, startling her. It was Raoul.

He wore a very pained expression, as if he'd been slapped hard in the face. How long had he been watching her sing? Judging by his forcedly chintzy smile, the whole time. She stopped dead in her tracks, adopting an expression that said she was glad to see him. He seemed to see right through it.

" Good evening, Christine." His voice sounded cracked, as if he might sob. She cinched her robe quickly. "D-did you want to go out for supper? I figured we should give Sophie a night off." The cracked tone was gone, replaced by his usual upbeat demeanor. Christine nodded quickly, shuffling off to her wardrobe. Her spirits were low again. She knew for a fact that Raoul knew who taught her that song. It must have pained him terribly.

With her sudden jolt of depression, she padded back to where Raoul was sitting awkwardly in the armchair in the parlor. " Actually Raoul, I think I'd rather not go out tonight. I-I have to pay a visit to an old friend." For a moment he was silent, then he swallowed whatever misgivings he was feeling. " All right, then. Say hello to your friend for me." She quickly gave him a shoulder hug and raced off to get her things together. There was only one person who made her feel completely better. Raoul sighed deeply as he watched her carriage race off into the early evening. He loved her so much, but she never seemed to want to hear it.

" So tell me again, he caught you singing his song?" Meg inquired, sipping her cup of tea. The friends had decided to camp out near the catwalks for the night. There was so much to catch up on, for they had not had a long time to be the children they were for over five years. Christine once again told her story, pausing to repeat the part about the sadness in Raoul's voice. " Well, let's talk of happier things now." The woman stated after her story was through. She had not come here to pull Meg into her state of melancholy. Meg pulled a blanket tighter around herself, snatching one of the finger sandwiches from the platter.

"Well," she garbled through a mouthful of toast and cucumbers " I think a man is trying to court me. Mama's not happy about it one bit. I've never strayed an arm's length away from her." She and Christine squealed with delight. "Oh Meg, I'm so happy for you! What is his name?" It was fun to feel like a young girl again.

Meg swallowed her mouthful of sandwich, doing a little adagio with her right hand. " Darryl." She finally said. "It's a terribly common name, but he is so sweet!"

They talked for hours until they both fell into the stupor of an enjoyable sleep. Nobody had seen them come up there, but Christine could never shake the feeling of a ubiquitous being watching the pair of them converse.

It had been completely by accident, but he had wished he had never found them. Erik had been prowling about the building, searching for unguarded valuables to add to his subterranean hideout. He had left Delight asleep on the Persian rug before the fireplace, for there was no promise of soon return to be kept. The night had been his.

When he stumbled across the pair of sleeping girls, his first reaction was that it was a dream, an elaborate hallucination. With further investigation, it startled him that the two were both very much real and alive. What was she doing here anyway?

As Meg rolled over onto the platter of sandwiches, Christine scooted closer to the edge of the catwalks, where a grisly death below awaited. When she came dangerously close to toppling to the stage below, Erik let out a gasp. Even if he could never see her again, there was no way he could let her die.

Picking her up as gently as he could, the masked man placed the girl on a safer spot away from those wooden death traps. He removed his cape and put it under her neck as a crude pillow. She looked so small lying there, slumbering peacefully. Before he could stop himself, he placed a light kiss on her forehead before he stole off into the dark again.

The next morning when Christine awoke, she recalled having the strangest dream of being lifted to safety by a heavenly protector. It had just seemed to be a wild marvel of overtired imagination, but when she found the black-as-night cloak beneath her head, she was at a loss for words.