Disclaimer: I own zip, zilch, and nada. All characters are copyright their respective owners. I own only the words, in this particular order, in this particular story. So don't sue me. :-P
Story Note: I figure I should point out what version of the story this is based on, eh? It's mostly ALW with bits of Leroux thrown in. No Kay here… as I can't seem to get my hands on the book anywhere :-P
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Faded Moonbeams
Chapter Three
"The night wish I sent you centuries ago
Has been heard by those who dwell in woe"
- Nightwish - Astral Romance
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"Perhaps you just need to get out of the house more often, darling" Raoul stated the next morning. He casually glanced up from the paper to look at his wife, who in turn was gazing out the large windows of the parlor with an almost wistful look painted upon her lovely face. She was a vision in pink silk this morning, with her chestnut curls piled atop her head in the latest fashion. Delicate fingers absentmindedly twisted a strand of pearls he had bought her for their anniversary the year before. Yet, she made no response to his comment and continued within her own personal reverie as the sunlight glistened across her.
He coughed lightly to get her attention, but his subtle actions seemed to have no effect. Sighing, he set his paper down and walked quietly over to the plush velvet window seat on which Christine was seated. It wasn't until he actually placed his hands on her shoulders that the spell was broken. She gazed up at him as her eyes slowly unclouded from the pool of memories she must have been bathing in. A little smile crossed her face as she innocently asked,
"I'm sorry, dear… I was lost in thought. What were you saying?"
"This is exactly what I was speaking of! You barely acknowledge the world around you anymore, Christine! Sometimes I swear that the entire house could be going up in flames, and you'd still be sitting here, gazing nonchalantly at the inferno!" he sat down next to her and stared fervently into her eyes. What had happened to the bright, cheerful girl he had known by the sea? Where was the woman who shared with him so many emotions at the Opera? He was lucky if he could get a genuine smile from her these days…
He gently embraced her as he continued, "When I return from my trip, we shall take a long holiday somewhere. Perhaps that will renew your spirits? We will go anywhere you wish… Paris, London, anywhere Christine! Would you like that?"
She stared back at his piercing blue eyes and simply replied, "Yes, that sounds wonderful…" That was all he would receive from her, but for now that was enough. He would take his wife somewhere wonderful, somewhere far away from here, and remind her of how joyous life could be. Perhaps he would take her to the sea, she had always loved the sea…
Christine watched in silence as her husband lightly kissed her cheek, and then departed from the room… no doubt with the intention of making plans for their impending trip. A light sigh escaped her lips as she, too, rose from the window and made her way towards the door. She couldn't let herself dawdle when she had important business to attend to.
Yes, oh how important it is to prepare for a social gathering, she scoffed silently, why, if my hair isn't perfect and my dress not flamboyant enough, Raoul's circle of friends may disown him as they have no tolerance for me even when I look just like one of them…
As she moved past her husband's favored chair, her eyes rested upon the forgotten newspaper. How she hated those things, all they did was bring bad news. Why, she hadn't touched one since that fateful day three years past.
She had walked into the parlor with a book, ready to waste the afternoon reading romantic tales of life and love while her husband was off on some errand or another. While walking over to the window seat, she noticed the paper haphazardly left upon the chair. Smiling to herself on account of Raoul's uncanny ability of never being able to put things back where they belong, she moved to place it on the end table. Of course, nothing could ever be so simple, for somehow instead of cleaning up, she had spilled the contents of the paper all over the rug. She began to pick up the papers, casually scanning the contents, mostly politics, when her eyes caught a sentence that should not, would not have stood out to anyone but her. For there, in small print near the bottom of a page were the words "Erik is dead."
No, papers were nothing but horrid things which depressed people with the state of the world. So, the young woman continued her journey out of the parlor and made her way upstairs to prepare for that evening's party. It would be her last before Raoul went away on business- and, of course, he would want her to make an impression.
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The Comtesse de Chagny admired the work of her maids as she always did. Somehow, time after time, they were able to turn a little opera girl into a woman of the nobility. Alone in the room, she made a few faces in the mirror, trying to find the perfect one to appease the masses tonight. It was quite a bit like acting, this façade of the aristocrat, but somehow she had yet to perfect the role. Sighing, she moved over to the dresser where she had laid her gloves and fan. With the finishing touches completed, she took one last glance in the mirror. Yet, what greeted her was more than a girl in fancy dress and jewels.
There he was, leaning against her bedpost, arms crossed in a noncommittal way, clothed in darkness and shadow as he had always been. His face betrayed no emotion as he silently unfolded his arms and beckoned to her reflection with one gloved hand. A single word escaped his lips, although Christine wasn't quite sure they had actually moved.
"Christine…"
Her head whipped around to stare at her bed, her first reaction to yell at him of the impropriety of being in her room in the first place. However, no one leaned against the bedpost, save for the velvet curtains of her canopy. A glance back towards the mirror confirmed that no one was in the room, except herself. She placed a hand lightly to her head.
I'm finally losing it…
Her name again echoed throughout the room, but this time without any ethereal quality. She turned her head towards it's source to see her husband standing there, smiling happily at her as he offered his arm.
"Shall we?" he asked teasingly.
And so, Christine shook off her unease and slipped her mask on once more. A saccharine smile graced her lips as her husband led her out of the room, down the stairs, and towards the waiting carriage.
A/N: Thanks go out to Tracy Davis, bobmcbobbob1, and allegratree. Your reviews keep me motivated! That's all for now! Leave any comments, criticisms, or anything else! I always appreciate it!