A/N: Mmk, this chapter is a combination of "Journey to the Cemetery," "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again," and "Wandering Child." Fluff ahoy!
Friendly Nade Hint of the Day: I've found that this chapter is SO much more beautiful if you listen to the soundtrack as you read. For those of you who have the two-disk set, start at track three (on disk 2) and go all the way through five. I just tried it— depending on how fast you read, you'll only need to pause it once or twice during WYWSHA.
Disclaimer: ALW all the way.
The first obstacle presented itself just moments after we crossed the Parisian border. A harmless dusting of snow covered the ground, quickly turning to slush in the city streets. On the outskirts of the metropolis, however, road conditions grew far worse. During the day the warm Mediterranean wind and fierce sun melted the thin layer of snow, turning the country roads to mud. But at night, when the temperature dropped rapidly, the mud froze into slick ice.
Unpaved trails led through the woods and up to the northwest entrance to the cemetery, and as I urged the horses onto the first patch of the trail, anxiety clutched my lungs. I was a novice driver, at best, and though my skills as an equestrian were better than most, I was unsure of my ability to steer the beasts through the dangerous terrain. The horses tossed their heads restlessly as they sunk up to their fetlocks in freezing mud, and I murmured to them soothingly. Pressing my lips together, I eyed the roads ahead. The trail forked as it reached the edge of the trees, and as we drew slowly closer, I swallowed in dreaded anticipation. To the left, the trail was composed of thick, jagged ice. To the right, deep, murky puddles led off into the forest. I pulled the horses to a halt at the crossroads, eyeing each trail nervously while maintaining a cool, confident expression.
Christine leaned forward behind me, craning her neck to follow my gaze. She gasped softly at the sight and addressed me hesitantly. "Monsieur, if it's too much trouble, I can walk the rest of the way…"
I clenched my jaw resolutely, jerking the reins to the right. "No, Mademoiselle, it's not too much trouble," I said without looking at her, hoping she wouldn't recognize my voice. She seemed satisfied, for she sat back in her seat and remained silent for the rest of the ride. I clicked reassuringly at the frightened horses, trying to keep the wheels of the carriage along the sides of the puddles. The worst-case scenario would be that the carriage got stuck, at which point I could simply unhook the horses and help Christine ride bareback to the cemetery. Had I followed the other trail, there was a high chance the buggy could skid on the ice and collide with a tree, or tip over. I was not willing to risk Christine's safety; as it was, I was reluctant to risk her comfort. Unfortunately, there seemed to be no other option.
The horses trudged steadily through the dense black mud for nearly twenty minutes, and I breathed a sigh of relief as the first pale rays of dawn filtered through the trees at the end of the forest. However, my reprieve was not to last forever; the graveyard loomed on the horizon, eerie and ominous in the morning mist. A mounting pressure restricted my lungs— this was my last chance to woo Christine. If I failed this time, I would become desperate— violent. I wanted her of her own accord, not by force. Under the guise of the Angel sent by her beloved father, perhaps I had a chance. I was down to my last card; I could not fail this time.
Upon reaching the wide, dry dirt path, the horses broke into a canter, their undersides and tails dripping with muck; they seemed as eager as me to reach the cemetery. The gentle, cadenced clapping of their hooves temporarily soothed my nerves, easing the clenched, twisted muscles of my stomach. If I concentrated hard enough, I could orchestrate any number of instruments to play a simple tune to the beat of their hooves. Closing my eyes for the briefest of seconds, I imagined a talented violinist— perhaps the very man I was taking Christine to visit— strumming vehemently on a fiddle to the established rhythm. My student's sweet voice began to accompany it, unbidden, and pacified my tension completely.
In sleep he sang to me,
In dreams he
came
That voice which calls to me
And speaks my name…
I smiled faintly, continuing on in silence until Christine directed me to the northwestern entrance, nearest to her father's grave. I nodded patiently, pretending not to know the way and glancing at her occasionally for further direction. Her choice of outfit was most distracting; she had chosen an extremely low-cut black gown with a tight bodice, and I found myself jerking my eyes away with burning cheeks. Finally we reached the correct gate, and I stared straight ahead, resisting the urge to watch her. I knew it was proper etiquette to help her down, but I preferred her to think her driver rude rather than chance her seeing my mask. Grabbing the edge of her cape so as not to trip, she stepped down from the carriage and strode through the massive iron gates. I urged the horses forward with a flick of the reins, and only when I was certain she was not looking did I turn to watch her.
Once we were safely around an obscured bend in the road, I hurried down from the driver's seat and patted each of the horse's velvet noses. I tied the ends of the reins to a nearby tree before sprinting off after Christine. She was moving slowly through the foggy graveyard, and for a moment I could do nothing but stare. Garbed entirely in black, her pale skin seemed to glow softly. Her eyes sparkled with tears, mingling with the snowflakes caught in her lashes. The bitter cold had tinted her lips a shade of deep crimson that almost matched the roses in her hands. As she moved, the mist swirled and parted around her feet, producing the façade that she was floating just centimeters above the ground. For a moment I blinked in disbelief; I could have sworn an angel herself was walking among the tombstones.
She whispered something I couldn't quite hear, and the sound of her voice snapped me from my reverie. I realized that I was standing in the open, gazing unabashedly at her. Should she turn around for any reason, she would undoubtedly see me.
Get a hold of yourself! I berated mentally, ducking behind a large statue of the Virgin Mary. Much more cautiously, I began to slink from one tombstone to the next, remaining a few steps behind her as we ventured into the heart of the cemetery.
My spirits lifted considerably as she began to sing, her voice tremulous and innocent in the still morning air.
You were once my one companion,
You were all that mattered
You were once a friend and father
Then my world was shattered
Wishing you were somehow here again,
Wishing you were somehow near
Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed
Somehow you would be here
Wishing I could hear your voice again
Knowing that I never would
Dreaming of you won't help me to do
All that you dreamed I could
I could not help but notice, as her teacher, that her voice had never been more beautiful. Once or twice I had overheard conversations among the opera's attendants— during Hannibal in particular, a few women had gossiped excitedly about Christine Daaé, claiming to have heard her as a child when she had traveled with her father throughout Europe. Even at age four, they had proclaimed, she had a voice to rival the angels, and though she wore little more than rags, they had never seen a happier little girl. I wondered now, as I marveled at her soft song, how exactly Gustave had managed to coax such unadulterated beauty from his young daughter's voice. I had never heard her sing with such passion and love and devotion, even for her Angel of Music. That was the difference, I noted with a small nod: she was pouring her soul into the music, connecting with it, as she had never done before.
Passing bells and sculpted angels,
Cold and monumental,
Seem for you the wrong companions;
You were warm and gentle
She paused, her head bowed, trying to steady her breathing before she continued. My own eyes began to tear at her pain; all the fury accumulated over the past three months dissolved instantly, buried and forgotten. How could I ever have been angry with this precious, lonely, pained child? I had forgotten, in my own self-pity, that she, too, had a gaping hole in her heart, aching to be filled.
Too many years fighting back tears
Why can't the past just die?
Wishing you were somehow here again
Knowing we must say goodbye
Try to forgive, teach me to live
Give me the strength to try
The muscles in my throat contracted painfully as the familiar burning sensation gripped my lungs. How I hated to see her cry! Her voice was almost inhuman for its beauty as it broke with tears. I bit back my own as her father's grave came into view. Swallowing hard, I took a deep breath and tried my best to drown out her pleading voice. I was here for a purpose; I needed to be strong if I was to use her insecurity to my advantage. If I did not, I knew for a fact the Vicomte would.
Slipping around several snow-dusted angel statues, I reached the back of Gustave Daaé's massive tomb. I pressed myself up against it, making sure my cloak was out of her sight. The lever to the door was directly to my left, coated in rust from years of neglect. Christine had never actually entered the tomb; she was terrified of corpses, even that of her dear father. I began to form a plan… perhaps if I could get her inside, then shut the door, she would become terrified… and, as always, I would show up right in time to rescue her. Safe in her Angel's arms, she would contentedly follow me back to the opera house.
Nodding to myself, I licked my lips and prepared to sing as Christine's beautiful, mournful song came to an end.
No more memories, no more silent tears
No more gazing across the wasted years
Help me say goodbye…
Help me say goodbye…
I waited until the last note faded before settling on a familiar, comforting tune. I rounded my voice and threw it forward so that it surrounded Christine on all sides, coming from each stone statue and crystalline snowflake.
Wandering child, so lost, so helpless,
Yearning for my guidance…
It was déjà vu, almost; I was reminded starkly of our encounter in the graveyard of Perros Guirec. She had obeyed me then, and I was confident that Christine's love and longing for her father would serve to help me now.
Her voice was hesitant and frightened as it rose in a childlike response.
Angel or Father, friend or phantom—
Who is it there, staring?
I interjected a guilt-inducing question that quickly gained the results I wanted so badly.
Have you forgotten your Angel?
She sighed in relief, and I could hear the rustle of fabric and snow as she climbed to her feet.
Angel, oh speak! What endless longings
Echo in this whisper
I smiled triumphantly, pulling the lever to open the doors of the tomb as I sang gently to her, coaxing her forward and enchanting her with music.
Too long you've wandered in winter,
Far from my fathering gaze
I put as much emphasis on "fathering" as I could, so as to differentiate between the man who had nearly taken her innocence and the man who sang to her now. I did not want old memories interfering with the present. Fortunately, my plan seemed to work flawlessly, for she ignored her instincts and began to walk forward.
Wildly my mind beats against you—
I sang with her, quieting my voice to accompany and compliment hers. You resist…
Yet the soul obeys! We sang together, our voices rising in perfect harmony. I took in a deep breath as we burst into the crescendo, singing with my entire heart, pressing my voice to its very limits.
Angel of Music, you denied me/ I denied you
Turning from true beauty!
Angel of Music, do not shun me/ my protector
Come to me/ your strange angel!
Slowly, so as not to interrupt my steady, rhythmic breathing, I began to climb the tomb, all the while singing to Christine, who had stopped just outside the door of the grave. It was the same tune I had sung to persuade her to step through the mirror, and I could only hope that it would work to lure her into the tomb.
I am your Angel of Music
Come to me, Angel of Music
I put as much emphasis into the words as I could, peering down to watch as her eyes closed lightly and she took a step forward. My heart pounded frantically in my chest; this was it— this was the moment I had been waiting for! At last, at last Christine would be mine!
I should have expected the horse's pounding hooves to clatter into the graveyard; I should have been prepared, waiting for him to race up at any given moment. But so absorbed was I in Christine that I did not recognize the Vicomte's presence until it was too late.
A/N: 380 reviews… -shakes head- Craziness! Thanks so much, all of you!
Haizea: Hon, I will NEVER get tired of hearing it, especially from you! Glad you approve— I didn't think Erik needed to hear his own life story from her mouth while there were Christines (or at least one) to sing to. Thank my cousin for the song… I can't write poetry to save my skin, but I CAN make previously existing lyrics fit into a syllable scheme. Haha. So happy you liked it. :D Ooh… -jealous- Well give Erik a kiss for me!
Hriviel: -blushes- Thanks. :) I tried. The lullaby really WAS a headache, but I'm glad it worked for you. LOL to the Meg comment… yeah, normally she just squawks and screams and clutches to Chrissy. And LOL again… yes, Curly! Popped to the top of my head, so I just kinda shrugged and said "sure, why not?" XD Loved your latest chapter of APC… gorgeous, as always!
Sandy: -pulls a comfy couch out of thin air for the two of us to plop down on- Go us! Woot woot! That chapter was all you, babe. ;) In fact, THIS chapter is way better because of you… what would I do without you? But TWO WEEKS to finish? –rips out handfuls of hair- You're gonna give me ulsers and a heart attack! For you, though, I'll try my best…
Arwen1604: YEA for you! LOL. –hugs- Aww, you're sweet! I like hyper people! I'm hyper most of the time, you see. Hope you liked "Wandering Child"… it's my favorite song, I think. One of them, anyway. :) Yep, the swordfight is next, but Raoul is still gonna win. But don't worry, Erik will still throw him against a stone so he hits his head and then slash up his arm so it's good and bloody. –evil grin-
Electricdragon: Thank you! "No One Would Listen" is a deleted song that's on the second disk of the special edition DVD.
Erik's Dark Lullaby: LOL. Awww. Well, that's quite a compliment, considering your alias. ;) Thanks so much, from both of us. Yeah, I can't wait for PonR… although it kinda sucks, because it's not very Erik-ish to say "And I looked damned sexy in those Don Juan pants, if I do say so myself." –sighs- But he IS! LOL. XD
Venus725: Two and a half days! That's how long it took me to finish "Half Blood Prince," but if it had been up to me, I would have made about five pots of coffee and stayed up continuously and just finished it. OMG it was awesome… best yet! –sighs- Done ranting, but whew, I LOVE Harry Potter. –nods- Calm before the storm, hmm? I like that. –smiles- Well, at this point, the first fork of lightning is about to crash down, so buckle your seatbelt!
Shadow Fox Forever: Thank you! So happy it was passable. :)
Adlyb: Haha, it's true. I'm very picky about phanphics too, and I've only found a couple that are EXTREMELY good. Mine doesn't fall under that category, but I suppose it's decent. Glad you're enjoying both of my stories… thanks for the reviews!
RainsPhantom: Ah, it's okay, I know who you are. :) Writing in the dark? Ooh, fun! Nope, hardly any typos- brava! LOL, yes, PonR is coming up, and there will be enough E/C tension and drama and love in the room to cut with a chain saw, I promise.
Joanieponytail: I'm glad you think so; I value your opinion highly. Aha, she caught the contrast! –a cookie for your find- :D Yeah, I had to add in the part about Raoul snoring; it was irresistible. You're right— every little annoyance helps. ;) Yes… while the plan was foolproof, it unfortunately wasn't fop-proof. –sighs- Poor Erik. He's doing his best!
SubtleFighter: Thanks! Nope, I wasn't really following a melody from the movie, because I wanted it to be original. –shrugs- The conversation between Madame Giry and Raoul DID take place, but Erik didn't overhear it. I understand the complaints about NOWL, but I also love Kay's novel, and in her story Erik truly DOES want to "rise up and reach the world" when he's a child, only to be shunned and learn to hate the world as an adult. So in my mind, I suppose it fits. Not quite sure yet where I'm going to put it… I don't like where the script calls for it. –makes a face- I'll probably just improvise, and when Erik's in the right mood, I'll just pop it in. As for why I hate Christine so much, that will have to wait for the next review response, because this is already getting lengthy and I could write a whole 'nother essay on my reasons. Haha. I should be a lawyer.
Blood Tears Dying Angel: Wa! Thank you! LOL. XD
Inkie pinkie: Yup, my cousin and I wrote the song together. Thank you. :) HAHA, yeah, Raoul snores. –scoffs- I bet ERIK doesn't snore. Oh wait. He hardly ever sleeps. –shrugs and smiles-
DayDreamingTurtle: Well, thanks for being honest. I was hesitant to write one, too… because yeah, it's very hard to pull off. –grimaces- I hope you DID like it, but don't ever hesitate to tell me if I screwed up! Oh I love making fun of Raoul… I adore him, really I do, but he's SUCH a good scapegoat!
Ever Rin: Published… LOL. Nah, not nearly good enough for that, but I'm glad you liked it! You've made our day (my cousin and I). :D
Chocobo Surprise: -tackle hugs- I LOVE long reviews! –squee- Yep, I totally agree with the Madame Giry appraisal. Much as I adore her character, it just didn't fit. Aww, thanks— I'm happy you liked the lullaby. :) YES, Raoul has this nasty tendency to burst in at precisely the wrong moment. –sighs- But I do still love him to pieces, and I can even agree to your Christine argument, which speaks multitudes of your potential as a lawyer. Haha. As for the "fathering gaze" line in "Wandering Child," how did the PotO in 15 Minutes parody put it? Oh yes. "DADDY ISSUES!" Not to mention the low-cut dress. I mean, COME ON. As for NOWL, it'll be a challenge, to be sure. But we phans know Erik has a soft side… I think the song is very Kay-ish, and I absolutely adore her Erik. Hopefully it will come out all right. –crosses fingers-
Morleigh: Thank you! Don't know if it's worthy of belonging in the movie, but I appreciate the compliment nonetheless. :) Nope, wasn't to any particular tune, because we wanted it to be original. –does new reviewer dance- Thanks so much for commenting!
The Queen Sarah: Well I'm sure it will be awhile before you read this if you have an entire story to finish, but I'm SO glad to hear the dialogue/singing worked! It's probably my weakest point as an author, but I tried to work with it. "Practically canon"… LOL! Hardly. But thank you. :)
Lady G: Alright, I think that is OFFICIALLY the longest review I've ever received. –smiles and shakes head- Yes, he IS rather dashing in his evening attire, isn't he? LOL! I made him "spiffier" than the movie? That's hysterical. Well, I did miss the ventriloquism. It's a neat trick, but kinda hard to portray in a movie. "Devilishly handsome" WAS actually somewhat of a pun, haha. He is the Red Death, after all. –nods- Yep, Meg had a Madame Giry moment… about time she did more than scream "He's here, the Phantom of the Opera!" WOW, I didn't expect you to like the lullaby… I'm pleasantly surprised. The whole shielding from the light thing was supposed to be symbolic. Erik represents darkness, ya know… -sighs and shrugs- Ah well. YES, he does love her! He stayed up with her all night too, just like Raoul, except HE didn't fall asleep… -coughs- Anyway. Always fun to read your reviews, and I DO notice that you're being much kinder to Erik. :) Most appreciated, I assure you.
Sakume: Huzzah! It was a stone, I tell you, a stone! Or… he tripped on his cape! Yeah, that's it! Raoul cheated— he didn't HAVE a nifty cape! So THERE! Lol. ;) No, he is NOT gonna be happy in the slightest. We're about to have a good dose of Erik's temper. Haha.
LilyEvansPotter4456: -sighs- Poor Erik indeed. He TRIED! But no, of course, the fop had to intervene AS ALWAYS. Let the swordfight begin!
LaPetiteChristine: LOL! Slut-faced hoebag… heck yes! –huggles- I love you, Hil. Yep, I'm gonna include NOWL, but hopefully I'll get it up before I go back to CA, so I can just use my copy here. Thanks for the offer, though. :)
Mominator124: Oh wow! I remember you from "A Piercing Light of Hope"! –waves- From here on out it will follow canon, but there will be filler chappies in between "Twisted Every Way" and DJT. There will be an epilogue, however, which might make up for it. –secretive smile- Nope, the lullaby was totally original. I didn't want to screw up ALW's brilliant work. Haha. Aw, don't worry about being a slavedriver… -sighs and looks at other reviewers- Join the club. LOL, j/k.