Lysette opened her eyes to find herself on a stage. She was dressed in a costume befitting a young man and was holding some roses. She could hear words escaping her mouth as she struggled to focus.
Faites-lui mes aveaux,
Portez mes voeux,
Fleurs e'closes pres d'elle
Dites-lui qu'elle est belle
Que mon couer nuit et jour
Languit d'amour!
Revelez a son ame
Le secret de ma flame!
Qu'il s'exhale avec vous
Parfums plus doux!
Lysette blinked her eyes. Did she know what she was singing? Yes, she did. It was all in French but she understood every word of it. She was singing of a love that she pined for and meant more to her than life itself. She then could feel her head spinning as she stared out into the vast auditorium. She could see many seats and opera boxes along with various kinds of architecture. Her eyes then cast up at the enormous chandelier in the ceiling, which was lit by candles. Was she at rehearsal? She had to be. But why was she dressed in such a strange costume? Dressed in pumpkin pants and tights? All of the images began to spin faster and faster until she finally lost control and fell to the floor. The roses fell from her hand and onto the floor as many cries could be heard in the background. Again they were all in French but it was like English to her. Her eyes finally closed as she slipped into unconsciousness.
Mulder also awoke to find himself in a strange place. But unlike Lysette he did not find himself on a stage but rather in a bed. He gasped as he looked around at the ornate room with fancy curtains and furniture. His eyes then fell upon a young girl, which startled him. He could hear her apologizing in French but instead of being confused, he knew what she was saying.
"Monseuir, I am so sorry." The young girl replied as she bowed to him.
Mulder smiled as he too spoke back to her in French as if it were his second language. "It's all right. I didn't mean to frighten you. Can you tell me where I am?"
"Where you are?" The girl asked with a confused look. "You are the Vicomte De Chagny here in your parents estate. Here in France."
"What?" Mulder asked in an even more confused tone. He then watched as another man entered the room.
"Ah, I see you are finally awake brother."
"Brother?" Mulder asked as he sat up on the bed.
The young man looked to the young girl. "You may leave us now. Please prepare Monsieur Vicomte some hot tea if you please." When the young girl left the room he then walked over toward Mulder. "Are we feeling better now? The doctor said you had quite a fever earlier."
Mulder put his hand to his forehead. "Yes, I…I guess so."
"You should know better than to take that one trail near the cliff, brother. A horse is surely more surefooted then the rider on its back." He paused. "Well, I guess you will take more precautions when riding next time?"
"Right…more…more precautions when riding next time." Mulder looked at the young man. "Can I ask…who you are?"
"Who I am? Perhaps you hit your head much harder then the doctor thought. It's your brother, Phillipe, Raoul. The brother who has terrified you all through your childhood? And who can still beat you at hunting any day of the week."
"Raoul?"
"Yes, your name is Raoul Vicomte De Chagny and you belong to one of the wealthier families of France."
Mulder put his hand to his forehead. "What…what year is this?"
"The year?" Phillipe asked in a confused voice. "It's the year it was when you had your horse riding accident, 1881."
Mulder swallowed. "18…1881?"
Phillipe took on a concerned tone. "I think perhaps I should request for the doctor again. It appears there was more damage to your head then was previously thought. I had so hoped that we would be able to go to the opera this evening."
"Opera?"
"Yes, the Paris Opera has a performance of Faust this evening. There is a gala before the performance and it is quite an event for the upper class to be there. We must represent the family, Raoul. And I am told that La Carlotta is one of the best sopranos in the world."
Mulder paused in thought. Faust? Why did that opera sound familiar to him? His name was Raoul and he was in France in 1881? Opera….Lysette! That was where she had to be! "No, I'm….I'm quite capable of going….Phillipe. If…if it's such a grand event we really must attend it."
Phillipe smiled. "I was hoping you would say that. I shall have the maid take care to bring you your clothes for this evening. I shall see you a little later and the maid will bring you some tea. That should help bring things back into focus for you somewhat." He then walked out closing the door behind him.
Mulder slowly moved off the bed and walked over toward a mirror. His name was Raoul Vicomte De Chagny and he was in Paris, France? He glanced down at his attire, which were definitely not his usual pajama bottoms. What was this? He then looked into the mirror and gasped as he saw a different face looking back at him. Instead of his dark hair, the image showed a young man with lighter, almost blonde hair. It took him a few moments to realize that he was staring at the picture he had seen from the photo album Margaret had shown him. "Oh my god." He whispered as he studied his image. "What…what is this?"
Lysette slowly opened her eyes to find herself lying on what appeared to be some kind of couch or chaise. Her eyes then focused on a young girl looking back at her. And the face looked quite familiar to her. "Melinda?" She whispered.
"Melinda?" The young girl asked in a bewildered tone. "Don't you recognize me? It's me…its Meg. Meg Giry?"
Lysette was again hearing French but it seemed like she had known it all her life. "Meg?"
"Of course. Who else would it be?"
"Where….where am I?"
"In your dressing room. You had a slight accident out on the stage. You fainted."
Lysette brought a hand to her forehead. "Fainted?"
"Yes. We were all actually quite worried." Meg paused. "That is…except for La Carlotta. All she did was complain. Claiming that you disrupted rehearsal. Of course I would expect that seeing as you are her understudy."
"Under…understudy?"
Meg reached out her hand. "Christine, did you hit your head when you fell on the floor?"
Lysette shook her head. "I…I feel strange."
"Maybe I should fetch the doctor?" Meg asked as he rose up from the bed.
Lysette was so confused right now. She needed time to sort out what had happened to her. The last thing she needed was a stranger around her asking questions that even she couldn't answer. She reached out and grabbed her hand. "No, Meg please. I'm….I'm all right. I just need a little time."
At that moment the dressing room door opened and an older woman stepped inside. "Mademoiselle, Daae? It would appear that you are feeling better?"
Meg looked over at the woman and smiled. "She is doing much better, mother but I fear she may have hit her head when she fainted. She may not be able to sing tonight."
"Oh I am certain it is not that serious." Madame Giry replied as she walked on her cane. "Meg, I need you to go rehearse with the rest of the ballet."
"But mother…"
"No arguments, young lady. Remember if you are going to be a great ballerina what must you learn?"
"Discipline." Meg replied with a sigh.
"So show it now and go practice." Madame Giry replied in a firm tone. "Now, go."
Meg moved away from Lysette. "I'll come back and see how you are doing later." She then smiled before moving out the room.
Madame Giry leaned on her cane. "You suffered quite a traumatic experience my dear. But you must make certain that you are able to sing tonight. Otherwise you would disappoint him."
"Disappoint him?" Lysette asked as she sat up.
"But of course." Madame Giry replied. "The last thing you would wish to do is disappoint your teacher, would you not? He has great faith in you. Your performance as Siebel will give you the recognition that you finally deserve. And that is why you must perform this night. I shall leave you to prepare."
"Madame Giry? Do I really have a singing teacher?"
"A great one, mademoiselle. I shall leave you to your preparation." Madame Giry then made her way slowly out of room, closing the door behind her.
Lysette moved to the edge of the couch and looked down once again at her costume. This was definitely unlike any kind of costume she had ever worn. And she had addressed the older woman as Madame Giry without even thinking about it. How was that possible? She started to glance around the dressing room and saw several candles flickering. Rising up from the bed, she walked over toward a dresser. She could see a musical score sitting on it with the title Faust. The score was quite worn and was being held together not by glue or staples but by strong pieces of ribbon. "Faust?" She then glanced at the program next to it. "Siebel performed by Miss Christine Daae at the Opera Populaire Paris, France 1881?" She then gasped as she looked into the mirror and saw the same image she had seen back in Washington. Reaching up her hand she touched her face. "Christine?" Her candles in the dressing room started to flicker and then blow out. She turned and could feel her heart beating rapidly. "Oh dear god what is this?" She whispered.
"Don't be afraid my angel".
Lysette looked around the room fearfully. "Who….who is that?"
"Who else, Christine but your teacher, your angel".
"My teacher?" She whispered. "Madame Giry said…that it was important that I sing tonight."
"And so she is right my angel. Tonight is very important. You have been in fine voice these past few months. All of your lessons have led up to this very night."
Lysette walked around the room. "But…I…I don't know if I'm ready. I've never sung the role of Siebel before."
"Siebel? Oh no my angel, tonight you shall not sing the role of Siebel.".
"What?"
"You shall sing the role that was meant for you. You shall sing the role of Marguerite as it was meant to be sung."
"Marguerite? But….but that's the lead and is being sung by La Carlotta."
"You are also her understudy. Should Carlotta fall ill it is your requirement to take her place. She knows nothing of the role. All she knows are notes and words. But you….you know the true meaning of Marguerite. You know her passion, her innocence, her very soul is conveyed through you. Singing is something much more than notes or words, Christine. It is about passion and desire. Both of those elements you have learned from me. And tonight all of Paris will know of it as well. I have kept you a secret from the world all this time so that I might prepare you. But now…you are ready, Christine."
"But Carlotta will not wish to surrender the role of Marguerite to me willingly."
"She will have no choice. It is very important that you keep your focus on who you are, Christine. Who you are and your voice are all that matter. Nothing else should consume your mind."
Lysette walked toward a large standing mirror. "Who I am?"
"Yes my angel. Should any other thoughts cross your mind, they will poison it. And once that happens…you shall lose your very essence, your soul. Your voice….will lose its passion and desire."
Lysette could feel a strange feeling overcoming her as she stared back into the mirror. "I understand my angel." She replied in a trance-like state.
From behind the mirror a masked figure wearing a cloak stood watching Lysette. He held out his arms and traced her silhouette with his hands. Sighs escaped him as he traced every inch of her with his fingers. All that stood between him from touching his angel was a pane of glass. It was almost too much for him to bear. He stared at her trembling as he spoke to her through the mirror. "And tonight, after your triumphant debut I shall come to you. You must come back to your dressing room for I shall be waiting for you."
"Yes, my angel."
"Now, I shall leave you to prepare for your great triumph. And know that I shall be with you tonight, my angel."
The Phantom watched as Lysette moved away from the mirror and went back to her dressing table. He couldn't believe how easy it had been for him to bring Lysette back with him. He had unfortunately also brought that damn Fox Mulder as well but to him it didn't matter. He had a strong hold on Lysette, he could see that now and he just had to keep it. She was clearly more susceptible than Fox Mulder was. And he knew the key, convince her that she was Christine Daae and not Lysette Willoughby. Once she forgot about Lysette everything would fall into place. He would have his Christine and there would be no one to stop him this time. His rival would perish or be trapped in 1881 forever. An evil smile spread across his face as he turned and started heading down a secret passageway, which led to Box 5. This would most definitely be an evening for him to remember. He would see his Christine and would soon put an end to his rival.
Mulder stood in front of a mirror adjusting his bow tie. He had decided to go along with everything Philippe had told him for now. He did feel that somewhere deep down that he was Raoul. After all, Margaret had shown him the pictures and had done the past life regression. He was here to find Lysette and save her from Erik. He had not forgotten that. In order to accomplish his goal, he would have to try and blend in and be Raoul Vicomte De Chagny. The face staring back at him was still strange to him. He then heard a voice behind him.
"Ready to go to the opera, Raoul?" Phillipe asked from a corner.
Mulder finished with his bow tie and then placed a top hat on his head. "I'm ready." He then put on his long coat and grabbed his cane before following Phillipe out the door. Climbing into a horse drawn carriage, they then headed off to the Paris Opera.
Note: Just wanted to thank those of you who have continued to read this fic. I hope you are enjoying it as much as I am writing it! To answer your question, Scully is actually NOT going to resemble anyone from the 'Phantom' novel. However she will be meeting someone soon that does from the present. More to come!
Dana