Meg Giry had always possessed quite a talent for easy humor, and indeed, had always used it to balance the more serious moments of life. Such a small rebellion must be expected of a woman raised in the rather strict style of Madame Antoinette Giry. Meg and Christine had often engaged in mischievous endeavors as children roaming the halls of the Opera Populaire, so it was not a great challenge now for Meg to turn their reunion to more joyful subjects than the infamous Opera Ghost.
Christine somehow managed to smile at all the proper moments and say all the right words as Meg asked about le Vicomte, the countryside, the fine de Chagny estate, and romance of it all. All the while her fingers played with the mask she still held clutched in her hands. It was not until Meg heard her mother in the hallway that Christine had been forced to part with the memento, at least for awhile. Meg had guiltily confessed that her mother knew nothing of the mask, feeling that the story of how Meg had come by it best left untold. It was only one small secret to keep, compared to the secrets that Madame Giry had kept for so very long.
Christine had reluctantly allowed Meg to tuck the mask away again, and the reunion had soon been extended to include Madame. It was a day to celebrate indeed, as Madame had only just been employed at the Theatre Soliel as a ballet mistress, and Meg was to have an audition on Friday morning.
"So you shall have to make some effort, Meg, rather than waste the day lounging about."
Meg had grinned cheekily and replied, "But look what I've benefited by lounging about today…a wonderful surprise on my doorstep."
The three women had shared in a laugh before Madame and Meg began to answer Christine's questions about the fate of the Opera Populaire. Christine, in turn, had spoken a little more about her days in the country, but the one subject Christine longed to broach with Madame Giry was the very one she could not seem to bring about.
Raoul had told Christine a little of the story Madame had relayed regarding the Phantom's past, and only then did Christine come to fully realize just how involved in the events her guardian had been. The knowledge had greatly upset her; that Madame would have allowed such things to occur, but Christine had soon realized that she herself had been the one to set it all into motion. She had known of the Opera Ghost, known the stories…and Madame had always warned her to do as her tutor said, but to always be wary of angering him. Christine had been the one to stubbornly refuse to acknowledge that her angel and the Phantom were one in the same. Now, Madame Giry held information that Christine was desperately in need of, and she determined that she would somehow secure it.
In fact, it was Madame Giry herself who had given Christine the opportunity, bidding Meg to go and get them their afternoon tea and sandwiches. Meg had nodded in understanding, knowing her mother had something she wished to speak to Christine about in private, and though her own curiosity was raging, she had left them both alone for a time.
Madame Giry studied Christine thoughtfully a moment before beginning. "Christine, I truly had not expected you to return to Paris. I am surprised le Vicomte would allow it."
Christine bristled. "Is there some reason I should not have returned? You are all telling me that there is no longer any danger here…that the Phantom is gone. Is that not true?"
Antoinette Giry did not miss the catch in Christine's voice that betrayed a hopefulness that the girl certainly should not be feeling. She raised an eyebrow and said simply, "The Phantom is no more, child."
Christine shivered slightly at the coldness of Madame's words and a sick feeling of dread curled in her belly. "But you cannot know that for certain…"
Madame Giry looked at Christine crossly. "I know it." Then she shook her head sadly. "You have nothing to fear from him any longer, Christine…this I can promise you."
Christine began to tremble slightly. "I do not fear him, Madame. I…only wish…to know…if…he lives."
The older woman sighed. "Erik let you go, Christine…now you must let go."
Christine's tearful eyes snapped up quickly. "Erik?"
Madame Giry frowned. "Your angel was only a man, with a man's name…but he could never have a man's life. He lost himself to the darkness, and in darkness he remains. You are free of that now, Christine. Mourn him if you must, but do not take his chains upon yourself."
Christine dissolved into tears again, and Madame stroked a gentle hand over her hair. After the girl had calmed herself some, Madame quietly excused herself to see what was keeping Meg, and Christine was left to the agony of her angel finally made flesh.
Erik.
xXx
The hour was still early when Christine retired for the evening, claiming exhaustion. The sun was still above the horizon and Paris was awash in a golden glow. Madame Giry and Meg had promised to stroll with Christine tomorrow morning past the Opera House so that she might see the damage done to it, and Christine had mutely nodded her assent. Yet she could not wait until dawn. The ache in her soul had grown stronger with her return to the city, and every reassurance she had heard only served to make her more aware of her angel's presence.
No, Erik. His name is Erik.
Christine was more certain than before that Erik still lived. Meg's story and Madame's carefully chosen words had only made Christine more determined to see this through. She had never shed the chains that Erik had placed upon her so long ago, and those chains pulled her back to him now. She knew what she must do…and there could be no witnesses to this confrontation.
She was a foolish creature, she knew, for stealing away from the boarding house and strolling the Paris streets alone. Even more foolish was her destination, but somehow she knew that if she was to find him again, it must be in the place where this had all begun. Either he would come or he would not, and she prayed that it would finally be settled, one way or another.
Even as Christine made her way to the Opera Populaire, he heart was still in turmoil, clinging to the safety of Raoul's love. She could not fully confess, even to herself, what meaning her actions held. It was her soul that led her…seeking completion…seeking passion. Seeking him.
The exterior of the building was surprisingly intact, though remnants of the fire remained in the scorch marks upon the stone work. She glanced nervously around to see if anyone had noticed her, but it seemed no one cared much who came and went from the building this evening. Still, she did not enter right away, but instead made her way carefully around the exterior in search of the service entrance she knew existed there…the one that entered the building very close to her dressing room.
Christine found the door unlocked, though it stuck at the frame from warping…undoubtedly a result of the water damage. She shoved against it with all her weight, and it took several tries before it finally gave. The stench of smoke still lingered inside, and Christine gagged slightly as the stale air assaulted her nostrils.
Here the ravishment of the fire was more apparent, and she hesitated at entering the building, but she had not come all this way to back down now. She refused to revert to that same timid little mouse who had scampered away in fear. She crept through the building, watching every step she took, until finally she stood at the door of her dressing room. She was tempted to move to the stage, to see what damage had been done there, but she didn't think she could bear to see it just now.
Christine entered her dressing room tentatively, and gasped. Somehow, the room had remained untouched. She stood there before the mirror for what felt like hours, but in fact were only moments.
Softly, she sang, "Angel of Music, I denied you, turning from true beauty…Angel of Music, my protector, come to me strange angel…"
Her words choked off on a tormented sob, and only silence greeted her. She moved closer to the mirror, running one trembling hand over the cold glass. Slowly, she lifted the other and ran it along the edge, searching blindly for the latch she knew must be there. After a moment, she found it…whether by some trick of fate or soul deep knowledge she would never be certain…but the mirror swung open and she began her journey down once more.
A/N: I know...another Erik-less chapter...but can't you just feel it coming?
Thanks again to my reviewers.