Okay, guys, here's the fluffy stuff…but it's far from over, I promise. Thank you for all the reviews, please, any input you can give me is wonderful!
insert standard disclaimer here.
Erik stood stiffly, reigning himself in as he stood at the head of the chapel. He felt as if his body would fly to the steeple and shout to all of France if he didn't control himself.
"All these years, all this time…I thought I'd die by now, and instead I feel as young as ever."
He looked out into the few pews that lined either side of the center aisle. The only people occupying them were Madame Giry and her daughter, Meg. M. Giry smiled at Erik, recalling the joy she felt the day she married Charles so many years ago. Meg seemed a little awed by Erik; she was Christine's friend but had never really met Erik other than through Christine's and her mother's tales. Both were invited under the greatest secrecy. The invitation asked them to the wedding of Mademoiselle Christine Daae and Monsieur Omar Girad.
"Mother, look at this!" Meg called, running into her mother's room holding the ivory invitation. It was engraved in gold and quite beautiful. "It's an invitation to Christine's wedding!"
"How lovely," M. Giry had said, not looking up from her books. "I haven't seen her since her last performance. It's good to know she's well."
"But mother," she protested, her desperate tone finally getting her mother to face her. "Christine is not marrying the Vicomte!"
"What foolishness is that, child? Of course she is!"
"No, mamman, I mean it! The invitation, well, here! Look!" M. Giry accepted it with a look of resignation, she was sure her daughter had read something incorrectly. Perhaps she did not know D'Chagney's first name was Raoul?
"Omar Girad," she read. "What a curious name. I don't remember hearing anything about that courtship, she never even mentioned such a person, and I knew her for years! She only talked of Raoul, and, of course, Erik…" she trailed off as the larger type for the first initial of each name became more evident.
"Omar…Girad…" she said slowly. Her face broke into one of absolute joy. "O.G. Meg, do you know what this is?"
Now, sitting in the first pew on the left, Meg clutched her mother's hand.
"So the stories are true," she thought to herself. Erik was wearing his prosthetic pieces for the wedding. He and Christine had had a minor argument over it. She felt there was no need for it, since only friends were present, the violinist, and the priest. He insisted rumors would circulate, Meg might be frightened, and the whole thing would be easier on him in the long run. She conceded, but as punishment refused to tell him anything of her wedding dress, only that she didn't want to wear the one he bought for her during the winter. "Too many memories," she'd said, nuzzling against him. "This is a new start for us."
Nadir stood at the head of the aisle, behind Erik. He knew Erik would keep his emotions to himself, but saw his shoulders shake as the music began and the priest stood behind the altar.
Erik breathed slowly. "Stay calm," he told himself. "Just stay calm." The music swelled. Of course, there were no bridesmaids or flower girls, no one to give Christine away, just the opening of doors at the back of the church. He held his breath. The violinist wasn't wonderful, but she would do. The wedding march began, and, as the doors swung open, Christine was backlit by dazzling sunlight, showing only her silhouette until she took a few steps into the sanctuary.
Erik could no longer hold back tears. Christine was there, she was walking towards him, her face serene and beautiful. She carried a bouquet of white and red roses, but it was the dress that made something catch in his throat. It was beautiful, white, with a flowing skirt and beaded bodice. It was simple, but somehow that seemed only fair in comparison to her beauty. Her hair shined dark, down, the way he loved to look at it, and her huge blue eyes met his. He smiled.
"Oh, God, she's so beautiful," he thought. She stood beside him, and the priest began the homily.
"Dearly beloved…" he started, and suddenly, Erik had a flashback to that night beyond the lake. Christine, sobbing wildly in a white wedding gown, begging Erik to spare Raoul's life. Promising him the rest of her life and anything else he could ever wish for if only he'd let the boy go. He shuddered in spite of himself, an action that escaped neither Christine's nor Nadir's attention. She smiled reassuringly, and squeezed his hand. Erik relaxed. "The situation is different now," he realized once more. "She chose me before she knew there was a choice, it was over with the boy before I ever came back into her life."
From behind him, Nadir seemed to understand, and gently touched Erik's shoulder. "You did it the right way this time, my friend," he thought, trying to make Erik understand without saying anything.
"I Erik, take you, Christine," Erik heard himself saying, savoring every word as he looked into Christine's eyes, filled with tears. She repeated his vows, and to the sound of a few church bells, the two kissed their first kiss as man and wife. M. Giry found herself unable to contain herself, she began clapping, and soon Nadir and then Meg joined her.
"I love you," she said, and all he could do was hold her.