If to heaven's heights I fly,
You will stay close by me.
Or in death's dark shadows lie,
You are there beside me.
If I flee on morning's wings,
Far across the gray sea,
Even there your hand will guide.
Your right hand will lead me.

-Irish folk song, based on part of Psalm 139

(I told you that you hadn't seen the last of this song… :mad cackle: )

Chapter Forty Seven: Far Across the Gray Sea, P.1

Leah

"Oh! He's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen!" She squealed.

Even several weeks after her return to the Garnier, I still found myself constantly surprised by Tina's presence. She had not lost that air of childish sweetness that had been so apparent when she was younger. Despite the fact that she was now a young lady of sixteen, Christine Daae was still just as easily ensnared by something fragile and helpless as she was on the day that she left.

"Oh Leah! Look at him try to stand!" She cried with joy, clutching my arm excitedly.

I had to admit, the tiny foal was truly adorable in every sense of the word. I was glad that I had thought to speak to Joseph before Christine left to retire to Mama Valerius's comfortable flat.

Upon entering the stables, Tina and I had remarked at the unusual noises that were drifting from one of the large corner stalls. When we investigated further, we had discovered one very exhausted mare named Cleopatra, one gangly little foal named Cesar, and several extremely smelly, dirty stable hands named Joseph, Creed, and Christian.

After enduring several moments of squeaking, tittering, and exclamatory cries from a certain chorus girl, even I began to warm up to the wobbly little fellow.

Despite his ridiculous name, (compliments of my historically obsessed and rather stinky friend, Joseph) the pure white colt was worming his sticky little way into my soft old heart. I slowly became rather entranced as I observed his pitiful attempts to stand, until I was shaken back into reality by a familiar voice and a tug on the sleeve of my threadbare blouse.

"Leah, we must be going! I didn't realize how long we had been down here. Mama V. shall be worried sick over me by now!"

After bidding the boys a good evening with their newest charge, I lead Tina out to the steps to hail a cab. While we waited, she unexpectedly leapt to another subject.

"Dinner was first rate tonight, hermana. I am so glad to be back."

No, my little Tinita had not changed a bit. Her mind was still as fly away as a goose down feather.

"Does 'Mama' know that you use such awful slang?" I asked her, only partially joking. Where had the girl learned such boyish phrases?

When she returned my inquiry with a mocking pout, I could not help but laugh.

"God above me, how long has it been since I have laughed like this?" I wondered with a silent smile.

"It is good to have you back, Tinita. And yes, I thought the food was rather palatable myself."

As we had many nights in the recent past, Tina and I had gone out in the late afternoon for a light dinner at a small bistro. It was not exceptionally prudent of me, for my pocket book was badly injured by such frivolities, but I hardly noticed.

Besides spending time with my young 'hermana', I patronized an old friend when we dinned out. Mme. Avida was the owner of 'The Captain's Galley', a superb little restaurant on a quiet street not far from the Garnier. The food was excellent, and it gave Tina and I a wonderful excuse to take the time away from our hectic schedules to see one another. We talked for ages, catching up on all that we had missed in each other's lives these past nine years.

I had learned that her return to the Garnier had been M Valerius's death bed request to my friend, and that his passing had prompted her remaining guardian to return to Paris. I was still quite fond of the eccentric old lady, and had been glad to be reacquainted with her. Tina had also mentioned something about a beau she left behind in the country side near Perros-Guirec. At the mention of their parting, she had suddenly ceased her little narrative and began on another subject. I had not pressed the matter, for I was sure that their leave takings had not been happy ones.

Yet in spite of her occasional bouts of melancholy, the hours that I spent in Tina's company were some of the brightest in my life. Few others had the time to spare for me as often as she did nowadays.

Beth and the other girls had always remained close to me, but despite the fact that we still met together at night on occasion for a cup of tea, they had lives of their own now to attend to. Our love for one another had never wavered, but now there was an ocean of difference that separated me from them and their happy new domestic lives.

Amanda had been the first of our little group of sisters to marry, and every one of us had watched the first bird fly from our nest with a mixture of bittersweet loss and ecstatic happiness for our friend. Still, we were all glad that she married a fellow opera employee, Gervais Dun. The calm, practical man was Debbine's personal assistant. She could not have found a better mate, for he acted as an anchor for her flighty nature just as she slowly coaxed him out for an occasional flight of foolishness from time to time.

Hortense and Alana were both married outside of the theater to respectable gentlemen of modest means, happily beginning their own families. Their sweet little children were like nephews and nieces to me, each dearer than the one before. I loved to watch them for their mothers when I was asked, knowing that it would be the closest I would ever come to having children of my own. In my secret heart of hearts, I envied the lives that my friends had found for themselves.

Beth had remained my closest confidant throughout the years. She was a constant source of quiet strength and sage advice, even after the inevitable had occurred and she married Beval Monet.

By the time Beth had turned twenty, the rest of us had begun to make monetary bets on how long it would take for the boy to propose. (I won nearly fifty francs with the closest wager.) Now several years into their nearly story book marriage, the pair of turtle doves were expecting their first child. Her belly was swelling, slowly but surely, like rising dough.

Beval, with his sweet, playful disposition, often teased her about her round stomach.

"Are you carrying our child or growing a melon in there?"

At the beginning of her pregnancy, such comments had won him laughs and kisses from the blooming mother. That, however, was before Beth learned the joys of morning sickness. And afternoon sickness. And evening sickness…

Pregnancy did not agree with Beth, and such jests now tended to earn Beval an irritated slap.

Still, in spite of the baby's negative effects on Beth's usually sunny personality, I wished with every beat of my heart for such a wonder in my hushed, lonely little life. It seemed that everyone else in the world had found love, except for me.

Even little Meg had finally grown up, playfully flitting from patron to patron and suitor to suitor as she filled her sister's vacancy in the corps de ballet as the second most talented dancer.

I often found myself avoiding the stage and the corps, for even the sight of warm-ups caused little pangs of sorrow in my heart and filled me with regret.

If only I had never gone up into those rafters…

If only I had never left my family…

"If wishes were wings…" I muttered sourly under my breath, forgetting for a moment that I was not alone.

"What was that?" Inquired Tina as a cab halted for her.

"Oh, nothing dear," I perked up for her, "nothing at all. Buenos noches."

"Bonne nuit, Leah. Sleep well."

We kissed on the cheek as she bustled into the waiting cab. The driver tipped his hat politely to me and I bid him a formal good evening as well before his horses picked up their step.

As the rumble of the wheels on the cobblestones faded away, I turned to retreat to my quarters. When the cab turned the corner and was out of sight, I felt a stab of sad isolation.

It was nights like this that made me feel most lonely, for once I had had the pleasure of my friend's company, it's absence was all the more apparent. Although it was late August, the slight breeze was rather chilly, and I hurried inside.

In the unnerving darkness of the halls, I carefully made my way to the little ledge where I had left my lantern and my various packages. I had just finished my errands when Tina met me at 'The Captain's Galley', and had not had a chance to bring the things back to the opera house before we ate. Among the other parcels were the few letters that I had received that week. With one clumsy swoop, I scooped up my load and made for my little bedchamber.

The lantern flickered a bit as I hurried to my apartment in the cellars, and the only sound in the deserted halls was the faint click of my worn boot heels on the cold, rough hewn stone. I had never been able to shake my fear of the dark.

In the dark, my solitude became more biting. It was painfully apparent that I had no one to walk with me, to make me feel safe in the blackness. I felt empty and tired, as worn out as my shoddy clothing.

I often asked God what possible purpose my existence served, and sometimes secretly wondered what it would be like to lay down my burdens and go home. Every day of my monotonal years seemed hollow and devoid of meaning. I longed to believe that I was intended for more than this continuous loneliness, but life seemed to contradict me at every turn.

Even Señor, it seemed, had ultimately given up on me it seemed. I had not heard from the man since Tina's return. It was merely one more painful blow to my wounded heart.

Saddened by my depressing train of thought, I reached my door at last, only to find the most unexpected figure waiting for me.

"What are you doing here?" I cried.

Notes: Short chap. Arg. Tis 2:00 AM, and me must sleep… drags her caveman club back into her cave… I'll try to update sooner.

Guesses on the mystery guest? Come on, make my day!

And for those of you (like me) who are deprived and don't live in Europe, and freaked out a little when they read that Christine and Leah kiss each other on the cheek, DON'T WEIRD OUT ON ME. In most cultures, it is a perfectly normal action between close friends, or sometimes just acquaintances. Got a crash course on that when I went to Peru and stayed near one of my church's sister churches. Down there, if you are a girl, you kiss EVERYBODY on the cheek. (Guys don't kiss other guys) And I must say, I'm a bit sad that it's not part of American culture, especially every time I meet a really hot guy…. Oy, I'm terrible. (grins)

Kipper: I'll take your advice on the tattoo thing, you are probably right about that. Arg, me no like needles… as for the Olivia thing, whoa, a little creepy, but God works in mysterious ways I guess. Leroux. Squee. And yess, he is a bit nutty, don't you think? (grin)

Amanda, my partner in crime- (though as to what crime we are committing, I have no idea…) Congrats on finding a guy. I hope to do the same eventually. Nope, twenty five is a great age … today. Around 1900, not so good. Poor poor Leah. (well, at least for now) (She hugs you for checking names! You know me too well.) As for Eric's messed up ideas about kissing, well, he is a guy after all… from what I gather, they tend to think with the wrong appendage from time to time. (pardon my unclean humor, I live with boys.) Yes, I do indeed plan to vary!

Fish- I completely understand the demands on your time. Oy, those meeting thingys sound like real bummers. Praying for them to subside for you, and I hope you have an awesome year with your job! (hugs) No, I contest your theory about the kissing. The kissing stays. (whips out her caveman club and her debater skills) My contentions follow thusly:

First, Eric is a murderer and an extortionist. Would it be a big stretch to think of him as a liar? (giggle) Second, who says Leroux got everything right? Third, I am the first to admit that you have a point about the impact this will have on the Christine kissing him thing. I dwelt upon that very issue for quite some time before deciding that Eric is psycho enough to compartmentalize his experiences with Leah as just part of the experiment. True, I am still irritated by the fact that it still does dim the impact of Tina's kiss, but I needed to have some semblance of intimacy between Eric and Leah for some other parts of the plot to work. Arg, the problems of fan fiction… Fourth and most importantly, every girl likes a story with kissing. Its lame, I know, but this story needed a little fluff amidst the constant angst. Come on, you can't tell me that every last one of you didn't feel warm and fuzzy when Leah and Eric shared a little affection. (grin)

Hope I've won you over to the dark side… (mad cackle) Have fun with the drum!

Homeless- Of course, no one in their right mind would call Eric crazy! What was I thinking? (grin) Actually, Eric is not very hot (sadness) but love overcomes all obstacles, no? Fellow Shipper! (gives you exclusive Leroux shipper cheesecake from her secret stash) Gerard is not hard on the eyes (bats lashes) but Patrick looks a bit like a girl (Don't hurt me!) However, neither one of them has anything on Hugh Panaro. (Swoons at the thought of Hugh's hotness and his sexy, sexy voice. "Oh, Hugh!" Faints.)

Avid- Look for your Cameo, dear!