A/N: Please review! Constructive criticism accepted gratefully! No flames!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Erik, Christine, or any other characters mentioned. All I own is the plot. Songs owned by ALW.
Chapter 2
The next day, Madame Giry hurriedly made her way to a small church near the Opera house, and rapped her knuckles against the door. An elderly lanky man, the pastor of the little parish, answered it, and when he saw who it was he could barely contain his surprise.
"Antoinette Giry! It's been such a long time since I last saw you. How are Meg and Christine? Antoinette, why so solemn? Surely, it can't be he, not again."
"Father Pierre, I'm so sorry we haven't come in a while, it's just that we've been busy with the disaster at the Populaire and Christine's coming weddi—"
"Ah, I saw the Vicomte just the other day, such a splendid fellow. Christine couldn't have picked a better man to wed." Father Pierre interrupted.
"I quite agree, yet it seems as though Christine is for some reason troubled by the wedding. Every time the topic comes up she gets this distant look on her face and it takes ages to snap her out of it. If only she hadn't met him, this would have been smoother."
"She met him? He didn't hurt her, I hope, such a sweet girl yet so innocent and confused. If only Gustave and Marguerite hadn't died so early on in her life."
"Father, Christine will not tell anyone what it is that is troubling her. Could you possibly speak to her? I think she'll probably open up to you since she sees you as one of her only links to her parents."
"I'd be glad to, Antoinette, her father would never forgive me for not finding the root of his daughter's distress."
"When shall you come to speak to her? Please, I know you're busy, but try to make it as soon as possible—I don't know who else could help her. I do hope that whatever it is, she'll release it and move on."
"I take it that you are staying with the DeChagnys also, at least until the opera house has been repaired."
"You have made a correct assumption, Father." Madame Giry replied.
"Then you must allow me to accompany you on your return. I shall speak to Christine now as I have nothing of any immediacy in the church to attend to." He locked the door, then turned and motioned for her to walk down the cobblestone steps first, saying, "Shall we see to our cold-footed bride?"
Madame Giry smiled at his antics, "Father, you flatter me, but you should not start a scandal. What would your parishioners think if they saw you?"
"Ah, yes, I almost forgot myself," He trundled down the stairs like he was once again a suitor scrambling to see her through the dormitory window, before he realized he was called to the priesthood.
Madame Giry chuckled and followed him calling, "Father, have you forgotten that you do not know your way? You still need me to guide you to the house. You're no longer in your prime."
At this statement, Father Pierre slowed down to wait for Madame Giry, "You're quite right, Madame."
They proceeded onward to the DeChagny Chateau.
Christine, wrapped in a fluffy white towel, stepped out of the bath, the one thing she truly enjoyed in her new life, the fact that she could take a sweetly scented bath in her own bathroom. She knew she was supposed to ring for a maid to come to aid her in dressing herself, but she didn't. She wanted to dress herself on her own. She donned her undergarments, struggling a little bit with tying the corset, then her dress. The dress was an exquisite shade of dark blue that when paired with her pale skin, made her look almost ethereal. She swept her hair up into an elegant chignon and put on light makeup. Once she put on the matching shoes, she checked herself in the mirror.
That was when Meg came rushing in, "Christine! Mother brought Father Pierre here for a visit. He says he wants to talk to you about the wedding."
"All right, go tell your mother and Father Pierre that I will be right down. I just have to do one last thing."
As Meg left she commented, "By the way, Christine, you look amazing in that dress."
Christine sighed and with a quick sprits of some really expensive perfume Raoul insisted on purchasing for her, she quickly readied herself to converse with Father Pierre.
She stopped and listened in on the conversation those downstairs were having.
"You must not ask—whispering" someone, probably Madame Giry, said.
"Make small talk don't--more whispering" probably Meg said.
"After you find out, I'd like—even more whispering" probably Raoul.
"I may be a priest, but I still know how to hold a proper conversation with someone—"
When Christine heard Father Pierre's voice, she wasn't able to stand there any longer since it had been such a long time since she'd seen him last.
"Father Pierre! What a pleasant surprise! To what do we owe the honor of your presence?"
"You, believe it or not, I had to come to speak with Gustave's daughter before she becomes the Vicomtess DeChagny. Come, walk with me outside and show me the grounds of your new home."
"How can I resist a request like that? But only if you tell me stories of my mama and papa." Christine answered, leading him through the living room to the outdoors. Not really caring that she hadn't excused herself from the room as an proper lady should. As far as she was concerned, she was not a proper lady or Vicomtess yet.
"I've told you all of my stories. It's your turn to share some of yours, like the plans for your wedding."
Christine grimaced at the mention ever so slightly as she sat down on the bench in her favorite garden hoping that Father Pierre would not pick up on it.
Unfortunately, he did.
"Weddings are supposed to be joyous occasions," Father said, "not a time for sadness or grimacing."
"How?"
"Come, come, you're exactly like your mother. She too had an extremely readable face. So, tell Father Pierre what's wrong. Maybe I can fix it for you."
Christine sighed. Should she tell him that every time the wedding is brought up she thinks of another man, one who had been forgotten by the world? He wouldn't judge her too harshly, would he?
"Father, I can't help but think I may have been too hasty in my agreement to marry Raoul. Certainly, I wouldn't be for want, he's shown me that already, but he won't allow me music because he is still raw from the events that transpired at the opera house. I was not sure that I could sacrifice music for love, but then it occurred to me that love is accepting another person's life, all of it, the good and the bad. Raoul isn't, he's still trying to totally wipe away any memory of my past from my life. The Opera had been a very large part of my life, one that I'm not sure I can forget even after the wedding. Does that make any sense to you?"
"Yes, it does. But you also have to think of who Raoul is. He is a part of the Parisian elite who already don't like the sound of this marriage so he's trying to maintain his reputation, but at the same time build yours." Father Pierre replied.
"You make a good point, but why should he care what others say about us if he loves me as much as he says."
"There's someone else, isn't there? You are comparing Raoul to another man, one whom you spurned during the altercation under the Opera maybe?"
"How do you do that? It's pretty creepy."
"Actually, Raoul told me some of the story of your time as Prima Donna and someone else filled me in on the rest. Do you love this man more?"
"That's just the problem, I'm not sure. I've tried to sort it out but I eventually gave up because it led to more confusion. What do I do?"
"First, you must decide where your heart lies on your own. Then you follow it. If both of these men love you as they say they do, neither should be resentful of your choice because both will want the best for you."
"Thank you, I shall take your words under consideration, Father."
In her heart she knew she had already made her choice. Now she had to find a way to break it to the other party, without there being any hard feelings. She knew that it was wishful thinking, though.
"What did she say, Father? Is there anything I can do to help her?" Raoul grabbed Father Pierre as he came through the door.
Father Pierre looked at Raoul, he thought of what to say because he wouldn't betray Christine's confidence in him, but on the other hand, her fiancé was really worried.
"My best advice would be this: She can dress her own wounds and make her own choices. I'd best be going, I do believe my work is done. Meg, Antoinette, Raoul, bonsoir."
A/N: Please review! I know there have to be people who are reading this. Any constructive criticism you can give me will be accepted gratefully as it will enhance and add to your reading experience! No flames!
The Phantom shall make an appearance soon.
TNC,
Writer Muse