Author´s note: This is an addition to my Disclaimer: I do not own the fairytale "The steadfast tin soldier" (also known as "The brave/courageous tin soldier"). It belongs to Hans Christian Andersen. The lyrics of the song Erik sings, however, belong to me.
30) ... who you are and how you´re feeling
By the time Erik returned to his house he had re-gained his composure. Why kind of impression would Christine get of him if she saw him crying like a little boy twice within such a short space of time? His plan for the next hours included apologising once more for all the insults he had showered his guest with, encourage her to eat something and then lock himself up in his room to brood over what he had done wrong.
Yet to his astonishment he didn´t find Christine in bed, but on the floor next to it, thrashing her arms around wildly. "Thank goodness you´re back!", she exclaimed, a faint smile coming to her face. "I wanted to go after the two of you, completely forgetting that I couldn´t. And as I fell I didn´t dare get up again.", she told him miserably. Erik quickly grabbed his mask from the floor and put it on again. Only then did he wrap his arms around her waist and pull her into a standing position.
Christine´s smile widened as she realised that her ankle didn´t hurt as long as she didn´t put much weight on it. "Do you wish to lie down or sit on a chair?", Erik asked, still supporting her. "Can´t you take me somewhere else? I´ve been in here for almost a day. As nice as this room is, staring at the ceiling all the time is getting on my nerves.", she admitted.
Having thought about it for a moment Erik abandoned his previous plan and suggested: "Why don´t you come with me to the living room? I could sing for you.". The girl nodded eagerly. He helped her walk to the other room and placed her in a comfortable armchair. "There´s something I don´t understand, Erik.", Christine started, looking at him. "Yesterday you said I should move as little as possible, and today I´m suddenly allowed to go from room to room with just a bit of support…"
"Well… I might have exaggerated slightly.", he confessed. "In fact your injury isn´t as bad as I told you. The Vicomte could have very well taken you with him. If he had carried you all the way, your ankle would have maybe needed one or two more days to heal, that´s all." "But why did you want me to stay then?", she asked, fighting back the hopeful expression that was about to settle on her face. ´He cried because of Meg.´, she reminded herself. ´Then he ran after her and returned, looking as if he had cried again. Do you really think he had done all that if he wanted you?´
"There´s a project I wanted to discuss with you.", he told her. "Or rather, there was a project. Now I´m afraid it´s no longer of current interest. It died the moment Meg said she preferred this Pierre." Christine didn´t believe her ears. Meg couldn´t seriously like that self-satisfied, groping moron more than Erik. "She didn´t mean it.", she assured him. "I guess she was just upset."
Erik didn´t seem to be convinced. "This may be true. Still her words hurt me so much. She asked me to come with her and confess my love for her on stage. I´d have even done it, but I didn´t have my mask… I couldn´t just go without it, could I?" He looked down at her, desperate for some support. To his relief the girl nodded. "Meg was probably angry. Otherwise she wouldn´t have insisted on it.", she tried to defend her friend.
Seeing that his eyes were a little moist she changed the topic rather abruptly "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?", she asked. "I´ll show you.", Erik replied readily, sitting down at the organ. At least this would keep his mind busy for a while. Quickly he performed a warm up for his voice. Then he started:
"I see you standing over there.
You are so far away.
The beauty of your shining hair,
Such grace, such elegance, I swear
Was never seen until this day.
My heart is made of tin
And yet it seems to burn.
Although it doesn´t beat
I know that it would turn
To look at you
The way I do.".
Christine listened, enchanted by his voice and the soft melody. When he stopped singing she stayed silent for a moment before whispering: "What a lovely song! Did you compose it?". He nodded proudly. "It´s part of the next opera you will perform." The girl looked a little confused. "You must be mistaken.", she told him. "I know the next opera back to front, and such lines aren´t in there. Will they be added to the already existing script?"
"But no! I´d never meddle with the work of another composer.", Erik explained, turning around to look at his student. "I have yet to talk to the managers, but I don´t think they´ll be opposed to letting me stage this instead of the opera they had planned. I can be very persuasive, you know." His self-assured smile suddenly faded and he heaved a deep sigh. "At least that´s what I wanted to do. But what´s the point of it now that Meg has left me?"
"You once told me that music always made you feel better. It was the day the other girls teased me because I didn´t know the new steps yet.", Christine reminded him. "This is such a fantastic song, and I´m certain the rest is just as good. Couldn´t it be a chance for you to spend your time in a useful way till Meg realises that she was wrong?" "And what if she doesn´t?", he cried. He jumped up and began to pace around in front of Christine. "This whole opera is a tribute to her, to our love.", he muttered. "It´s a tribute, you know, and not a requiem. Not a requiem!"
Since her gaze followed Erik the girl soon felt a bit dizzy. "I don´t understand half of what you´re saying.", she complained. "Please sit down and tell me more about the opera and how it´s connected to Meg. Maybe I´ll be able to help." Obediently he took a seat in the armchair next to hers. "Have you ever heard of a fairytale called ´The steadfast tin soldier´?", he asked her. She shook her head.
"It´s about a box of tin soldiers which is given a boy for his birthday.", he said. His voice grew soft, like a story-teller´s, and before long Christine found herself closing her eyes, watching the pictures Erik created in her mind. "One of the soldiers had only one leg since there wasn´t enough tin left to complete him. This soldier falls in love with a ballerina made of paper, who lives in a paper castle on the same table. Yet before he can say a word to her a malicious devil-in-the-box makes him fall out of the window, and he lands in the gutter. Two boys find him and send him into the sewers on a paper boat. Of course the boat sinks, but the tin soldier is swallowed by a fish. The fish is caught and cut open, and by a lucky fortune the soldier ends up in the very same household as before. But the boy doesn´t want him anymore and throws him into the fire. While he tries to maintain his composure even in the face of death, a gust of wind seizes the paper ballerina and carries her into the flames as well… The next morning the maid finds the tin which the soldier had been made of under the ashes. It has melted into the shape of a heart, together with one of the ballerina´s shoes. So the lovers are united for eternity."
Christine blinked a few times, trying to get her mind out of her fairytale world and also a few tears out of her eyes. "Beautiful…", she breathed. "Well, the story was written by Hans Christian Andersen; I merely turned it into an opera.", Erik informed her with a humble smile. "So I guess the ballerina symbolises Meg and you´re the soldier with the missing leg.", she said. "Yes, I wanted to perform the role of the soldier myself. I thought it would make her realise how much love her."
"That´s a wonderful idea.", she replied truthfully. If only she had been the one Erik wanted to be with! Could there be a more romantic thing than writing an opera for the girl one loved? "It used to be a wonderful idea.", he corrected her. "But now… Meg doesn´t even want to be touched by me."
"Why did you want to talk to me if you already know that? What can I do to…?" Comprehension slowly dawned on Christine. "No… no… you can´t seriously expect me to play the role." "Please, Christine! I´m sure Meg will understand that I mean her, and maybe she´ll even forgive me. It´s probably the only chance I have. Or do you want me to ask Ariane?"
Christine´s fingers ran nervously through her hair. Being on stage with Erik, singing with him, touching him – it sounded both like a dream and a nightmare. But all the same she knew she was unable to refuse. She couldn´t do this to Meg and Erik. So she nodded. "Yes, I´ll help you.", she told him.