Title:Leave Me to Love
Author: i Megaphone (Formerly known as Fickle Girl)
Rating: T, for adult themes, language, and violence.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from The Phantom of the Opera. I do not own the lyrics from Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera Musical. I do not own anything but the plot and certain characters.
Summary: Raoul and Christine have been happily married for sixteen years. The love they share has produced their only child, a daughter. When she goes to live at the newly rebuilt Opera Populaire, will history repeat itself?
Chapter Four:
The house de Chagny was in full buzz as preparations for the party began. Lilies and orchids were placed around the ball room, creating a soft look against the hard wood floors and tan walls. Candles were the only source of light at the moment. A grand crystal chandelier hung in the center of the room, ready to dazzle the guests that would arrive in the evening. Chefs and Maids ran around, placing silver dishes on a long wooden table, covered with beautiful white lace. Champagne glasses were stacked upon each other, giving away the look of a pyramid. The actual champagne stood untouched, anticipating the moment their corks would be popped open. An orchestra was preparing their music and stands in the center of the room. Sounds of violins and violas could be heard echoing around the home.
And throughout all of this, Christine could not be still. She had checked with the chefs many times, making sure that all of Amalia's favorite foods were made to perfection. After finishing with them, she had spoken to the maids about the arrangement of the tables and chairs. They had seemed a bit put off by her, but she had to make sure that everything was perfect. This was her sweet daughter's day, nothing could go wrong. Raoul had assured her many times that nothing would go wrong, but she could not believe him. She had a feeling in the pit of her stomach, a feeling of anxiousness. Something was going to happen, and no matter how many times she checked everything, it was useless.
The cause of her worries had begun with a dream that she had had the night before. After their love making had ended, and they had drifted off to sleep, her thoughts had moved to another time. No, another man. She thought of him always, never forgetting the sound of his voice, or the feel of his touch. His face haunted her constantly. His actions were the source of her fear. He had been crazed. His love for her had driven him mad. He had schemed, he had murdered, all because of her. When he had let her go, a part of her had ached for him. She still ached for him, for the Phantom of the Opera.
After she had escaped with Raoul, they had stayed with family. News of the fire that had occurred at the Opera Populaire was the gossip that everyone fed on. But what the people really wanted to know was what had happened to the Opera Ghost. Talk of the Phantom of the Opera spread like wild fire, and the people of Paris talked of it for months. No one knew what had become of him. Many thought he was dead, others thought he had fled. A few believed that he still lurked inside the ruined Opera Populaire. People had questioned her at parties, wanting to know the truth. She had not known what had happened to him, nor did she know now. She suspected that he was still alive, although she would never admit it to Raoul.
They went on with their lives, never speaking of what had transpired down below in the Phantom's domain. It had been a mutual agreement; they thought that it would help them carry on with their lives. It had not worked. The past continued to haunt them, and it would never cease. These thoughts overwhelmed her on this day, the day of her daughter's birth. Amalia had been a breath of fresh air for their marriage. She had brought new hope and happiness into their lives. She had been the new beginning they had longed for, and she was the most important aspect of their lives, and would continue to be forever.
Christine feared that this happiness would be ripped apart. The ghosts from her past could come back and ruin it all at any moment. She knew that Erik lurked in the shadows still, waiting for the perfect moment to come back into their lives. She knew that news of her daughter's Masque had traveled around Paris. His silence had been deafening. She knew that he was waiting for her, waiting for the ideal moment. He hadn't truly let her go on that fateful night so many years ago. No, he had allowed her to leave for a certain amount of time. She was his, and he would come and claim her when the moment came along. All she could do now was wait. She waited and waited, all the while protecting her daughter from his identity. Amalia was innocent; she did not need to know the sins that had been made in her parents past. She deserved a happy life, and no one would take that away from her. Christine was ready for his return.
Amalia frowned into the mirror for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. She had been looking for signs of becoming sixteen, but found nothing. She had thought that turning sixteen would change her appearance in some way, but she had obviously been wrong. She walked to her bed, and flopped down in a careless manner.
Today was her day. A Masque in her honor would be held in a few hours. Family and friends would come to celebrate her birthday. Gifts of jewels, gold, silver, and silk would be placed upon the large table in the foyer. She would gracefully float down the staircase, making sure that each step she made was perfect. The guests would watch silently, smiles plastered on their regal faces. Her gown of deep emerald silk would fit her elegantly, and she would accept the hand of her father when she reached the bottom.
These moments were supposed to excite her, but all she could feel was doubt. A nagging pain had grown in the pit of her stomach, and she could not make it disappear. The source of this feeling was still unknown, although her mother had been acting crazed the entire day. This had saddened her greatly, because the thought of her mother in any state but happiness was depressing. Her father had come into her bedroom early in the morning, whispering wishes of a wonderful birthday to her. He had presented her with the gown, and asked her to wear the necklace he had given her the day before. Breakfast had been perfect. Her mother had sat next to her, and placed her hand upon her own. Amalia had known something was wrong, for her mother had smiled at her in a false way. She feared that her mother was ill again. Father had assured her otherwise, but she knew her parents were hiding something from her. She yearned to know their secret, but knew it would never be revealed.
She had spent the rest of the afternoon in her room. The maids had come in to do her hair, and perfect her makeup. After they had left, her mother had come in. She had looked a bit better, and she had sat her down. They had talked of many things, most of nonsense. Maman had helped her dress, and then left to get ready as well.
Amalia sighed, and stood up. She moved over to the balcony, and walked out. It was a beautiful night. The stars were out, and the air was cool. She could see the guests arriving, carrying boxes of many sizes and wrapped in different colors of paper. She leaned over, wanting to get a better look at who was coming. The guests all had their masks on, which made it hard for her to figure out who they were. She had just finished staring at a plump woman in a pink gown and mask, when a man caught her eye.
He was dressed in all black. The only thing that wasn't black was his mask, or half a mask. It had to have been made of white porcelain. He looked up at her, and she gasped. He was staring at her with such intensity; it was beginning to make her flush. He bowed, and then entered the doors that lead into the foyer.
Who had that man been? She was sure she had never seen him before. Perhaps he was a friend of papa's. She wanted to meet him. The feeling that had been bothering her was quickly forgotten, as she thought about this mysterious man. She was only brought out of her thoughts when a knock at her door announced the entrance of her father.
"Amalia, it is time. Are you ready to greet all your guests?" Raoul asked, extending his arm to her. She smiled warmly at him, and nodded her head. He tucked her arm into his as she moved close, and kissed her forehead.
"You are beautiful, my darling. Everyone will be mesmerized by your presence," he whispered, as they made their way to the staircase.
A/N:
Wow, I apologize for taking so long! I have been extremely busy, and haven't had any time to update any of my stories.
Thank you all for taking time to leave reviews on the last chapter!
I hope you all enjoy chapter four. Chapter five will take about a week to get up, but it will be interesting. I suspect that Erik and Amalia will finally meet.