Christine's POV
The soft rays of the early morning sun peeked through the drawn curtains in my room in the….. What was the name of this inn? I remembered escaping the Opera. Oh God, the Opera. Was it all right? If that smoke was any testimony to the intensity of the fire it would be in shambles. I shook all thoughts of my home from my head and continued to run through what I did remember of last night. I remembered Raoul frightening me in that alley. I knew he had not meant to hurt me, but he had terrified me. I had no idea what I would do if anything happened to Raoul. My Raoul. I grinned and pushed myself into a sitting position on the soft bed. I recalled as he had swept me off my feet, insisting upon carrying me. He was very much a gentleman. After that, however, my mind drew a blank. That is until being softly awakened by Raoul in the inn. I did remember singing with him last night. I had wanted nothing more than to leave my room to stay with him, but my sense of propriety kept me stuck fast to my bed. I touched my bare feet to the cold wood floor and moved to stand up. Before I could get to my feet the door opened.
"I must see her," said a very exasperated Raoul. I allowed a broad grin to spread across my face.
"Monsieur," replied the equally exasperated inn-keepers wife, "I have told you. I shall check to see if she is decent and then you may see her." I attempted to peer around her to get a glimpse of my love but her considerably wide girth took up nearly the entire door frame. She also seemed to be swaying slightly as if she was playing a cat and mouse type game with Raoul, trying to keep him from entering. Despite this I could picture Raoul opening his mouth in protest, but before I could hear whatever argument he would bring forth next the door was swiftly shut. She let out a frustrated sigh and turned to me.
"He is quite a handful. Stubborn too," she smiled at me, "How are you feeling dear?" She was very sweet, very maternal. Or, at least, she is what I would guess a mother would be like. I never knew mine. Madame Giry was the closest thing I had ever known to a mother, but she had had to be a teacher as well.
"Much better, thank you," I replied politely, "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I don't remember your name."
"Marguerite," she replied, "I'm sorry that I didn't have anything that would fit you better. You arrived at such short notice, and well, you are such a slight, little thing my clothes don't seem to fit you very well." She gave me a good humored smile which I returned. It was certainly true. The simple night dress I wore was far too loose on me. In fact, I was afraid that if I stood up it would fall right off. But it was clean, and infinitely better than the Phantom's wedding dress.
"It's fine," I assured her, "Thank you, for all of your hospitality. It is very generous of you."
"Oh, don't mention it, child," she brushed off the show of gratitude nonchalantly, "Couldn't very well turn out a man like the one you have with a sick, pretty girl in his arms could we?" I blushed at her comment. I had not intended to seem so helpless upon our arrival. I also felt guilty at having Raoul carry me all of that way. I made a mental note to apologize to him once I was able to see him.
"Before I forget," she made a sudden move as if just remembering something, "I managed to dig this up last night. Now I don't think it will fight you well, but it will certainly be better than anything of mine." As she said this she had been moving towards a chair in the corner of the room. My eyes followed her trip across the room and noticed, for the first time, a dress draped across the chair. She held it up for me to see. It was nothing special, just a plain dress.
"It belonged to my daughter," she said softly. Her fingers moved over the fabric, smoothing out the wrinkles with loving care. "She died young. Consumption. Awful disease. She wasn't much older than you when it happened." I looked at the woman with new pity. I knew what it was like to lose someone you loved.
"I'm sorry, but I do understand," I offered, "Nine years ago I lost my father. I was only seven when Madame Giry brought me to live in the Opera House." I hardly ever spoke of my father and had no idea why I found myself trusting this woman. Perhaps it was because she had shown such kindness last night. I honestly did not know. Marguerite had been watching me intently, but when I ended my story he look turned from one of pity to surprise.
"Nine years ago? How old are you now, child?"
"Sixteen," I whispered.
"Sixteen," she sounded surprised, "And you already have that man chasing after you? That brash, young gentleman insisting upon bursting in here without knowing whether or not you were awake or decent?" She was laughing to herself now. I blushed and turned my head away in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry," she apologized though she continued to chuckle underneath her breath, "I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable. He's a fine man."
"He is," I breathed in agreement. I fiddled with the hem of the dress I wore, refusing for the moment to meet her eyes. When I did look up she was giving me a knowing smile.
"Come, child, let's get you dressed. I'm surprised that monsieur Vicomte has not tried to bash down the door by now." I grinned at her words. I did want nothing more than to see him.
"Wait," I had just remembered, "Meg and Madame Giry. Are they here still?"
"The blonde girl…." she trailed off.
"Meg," I supplied.
"Right, Meg," she continued, "I believe she's downstairs restraining your male friend." I blushed again as she led me over to the changing screen. "And Madame Giry," she checked with me to see if the name was right, I nodded, "left this morning. I think she went to go see what was left of the Opera." I nodded. I fought to keep my mind off the ruined Opera House. I would not despair over this.
"It's a shame," she continued as she helped me out of the night dress I wore, "What happened to the Opera, I mean. We didn't go often, but we did see Hannibal. Splendid show, especially the lead soprano. She was marvelous. The voice of an angel that one had. Oh what was her name?" she puzzled for a moment, "Christine Daae. That was it." I stifled my laughter. Did she honestly not know who I was? "Speaking of the Opera. What part did you have in it? I spoke with your friends this morning. Were you in the ballet with them?"
"For a time," I responded. I was really in no mood to endure any questions about my time spent at the Opera.
"Oh," she nodded, "There you go," she finished fastening the last tie, "You look beautiful." I smiled at the compliment. "You'd best go see that man of yours. Before he does break down this door." I nodded my thanks and moved eagerly towards the door. She followed me out the door and into the hallway.
"Just down those stairs to your left there," she pointed me in the right direction.
"Thank you, Marguerite," I said for the third or fourth time. I was truly grateful to her.
"Oh, it was nothing," we moved off in different directions, "Wait, before I forget. I didn't catch your name." I bit my lip. It was refreshing to talk with someone who had no idea about who I was or anything about my career at the Opera Populaire. But still, I couldn't lie to her.
"Christine Daae," I replied. I swiftly turned and left a bewildered woman at the top of the stairs.
"It was….it was nice to have met you Miss. Daae," came the faint voice of Marguerite bouncing of the walls of the stairwell.
The stairs led directly to the main room that served as something of a pub and restaurant. It was filled with the smells of food and the roaring laughter of the inn-keeper. He, Meg, and Raoul were all seated around a table in the center of the room. My heart leapt to my throat as I caught sight of Raoul. It was all I could do to prevent myself from running across the room and throwing myself into his arms. He did not see my entrance as his back was to the staircase but the inn-keeper, who was facing me, did.
"Well, look who decided to get up," he said once his laughter had faded. Both Raoul's and Meg's head snapped so quickly in my direction I was surprised I didn't hear them crack.
"Christine," Raoul exclaimed leaping to his feet. He stood so fast the chair tumbled to floor. He paid it no heed and strode swiftly across the room to me. I moved towards him as well. When we met in the middle he enveloped in a warm hug. He pulled me as close as he could, holding me tightly. I sighed contentedly. This was where I belonged. I rested my head on his chest and inhaled the scent that was undeniably Raoul. I couldn't quite place what it was that made up his scent, but I knew how it made me feel. It made me feel loved; it made me feel safe, like no one in the world could harm me. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head. His face lingered there for a long moment. I wondered if he was doing the same thing I was. I wondered if something as simple as my scent could make him feel the way that I felt just then. He lifted his face and pulled away just enough to put a gentle kiss on my lips. I gave the softest moans of disappointment when he pulled away. He gave me a look of amusement at this.
"Are you feeling better?" he questioned, his eyes full of worry and love. He cupped my face with his hands.
"Much better," I replied, reaching my hand up to cover his, "I'm sorry you had to carry me so far last night. You should have woken me sooner."
He placed a gentle finger to my lips. "I could not very well wake a sleeping angel. Now could I? Besides it was not difficult to carry you, Little Lotte," he assured me. How I loved this man, more than anything.
"Christine?" said Meg timidly. I could tell she was iffy with interrupting the quiet moment I was sharing with Raoul.
"Meg!" I replied enthusiastically even though I was anything but enthusiastic at leaving the warmth of Raoul's arms. I gave Raoul one final smile before covering the distance that separated me and my friend. I hugged her tightly. I was truly grateful that she had escaped the Opera unscathed. She was the closest thing I had to a sister. She and Madame Giry had been so close to me for so long that I now considered them family.
"I'm so glad you're okay, Christine," she said, "We didn't know what had happened to you. What did happen?" I bit my lip nervously. I looked back to Raoul for support. I loved Meg, and was sure that I would tell her everything, but not now. It was all too soon.
Seeing my distraught expression Raoul came to my side, wrapping his arms firmly around my waste. I was grateful just for having him there. I leaned into him, trusting him to keep me on my feet. Raoul was not the only one who had seen my distress. Meg had known me for too long to not know when I didn't want to talk about something. She quickly changed tracks.
"That's not important now," she said hurriedly. What followed that was one of the most uncomfortable silences I had ever experienced. I remained in Raoul's arms as he traced small circles with his thumb on my waist, Meg was fiddling with the fabric of her dress that looked to be borrowed from Marguerite as well, and the inn-keeper's eyes darted from one person to another as if he was decided whether or not he could break the silence.
"Well," he said hesitantly, "How about some breakfast?"
"That sounds wonderful," I said quickly, anything to break the silence. He quickly stood up and bustled about preparing food for us.
"Where is your mother?" I asked Meg as Raoul helped me into a chair.
"She left early this morning," she replied, sitting in the chair opposite me, "She went to go see how badly the Opera was damaged." Raoul sat next to me and placed his hand over mine.
"Once we've eaten," I asked, looking back and forth between Meg and Raoul, "Can we go too? I have to see what happened."
"Are you sure?" Raoul questioned worriedly. I could tell he didn't want to take me back there. Not after all that had happened.
"Please," I begged.
"I think it's a good idea," Meg chimed in, "I need to see it for myself too." Raoul looked back and forth between the two of us. He knew he was fighting a losing battle. He gave a nod of assent. I smiled and reached up to peck his cheek.
"Thank you," I breathed against his skin. I could feel him shudder as I pulled away. I grinned wickedly to myself. I won't lie. I enjoyed having that effect on him. I wasn't as innocent as I seemed. Paul brought forth steaming platters of food. My stomach grumbled. I didn't realize how hungry I was. I greedily dug into a plate of eggs, simultaneously reaching for a slice of bread.
"Slow down, mademoiselle," the inn-keeper said, "It won't run away on you." I smiled sheepishly and forced myself to slow the speed at which I was moving my fork. Raoul grinned at me and lifted his hand from where it was perched atop my own and moved to the back of my neck. He buried it in my hair and began to gently massage the back of my neck. I felt goose bumps rise on my arms and I started to tremble. I tried desperately to hide the effect he was having on me from the others. Damn him. I loved him, I loved this feeling, but why did he have to pick now to decide to bring it out in me. I loved being able to bring those things out in him, I would have to accept that he could do the same with me.
After a delicious breakfast prepared by Paul (as I learned his name was) Meg, Raoul, and myself set off for the Opera. Raoul held my hand tightly as we made our way out onto the main road that would take us to the Opera House. My first glimpse of the Opera Populaire was incredibly deceiving. It outwardly appeared in decent shape. Only once I entered the place I had called home for nine years did I realize how much it had been affected by the fire. The once grand foyer was covered in soot, but it didn't appear that the flames had reached this area. Hope was rekindled as we continued to make our way through the Opera House.
"We're ruined, Andre," exclaimed Firmin, "Ruined!" We walked in to see both Andre and Firmin standing in the midst of the rubble that surrounded the stage.
"Gentleman," Raoul said politely, calling their attention to our presence.
"Monsieur Vicomte!" Andre called, "And Miss. Daae! We are so relieved that you are safe." I bit back a snide remark. They were not glad we were unharmed. They were just glad that Raoul was intact for his money, and that my voice was undamaged. One can notice that they paid no heed to Meg's presence.
"I'm rather glad that you showed up, Vicomte," Firmin said quickly, "I think that now is an excellent time to discuss your patronage to the Opera Populaire." I scoffed inwardly. Was I right or was I right? I could not be too bothered though. They were harmless enough. I tuned out the conversation and turned my attention to they ruined Opera House. The stage was no more and most of the once grand seats were gone. The Phantom's infamous box five was no longer standing, but lying on the ground, a burnt shell of what it at one time was. I could believe it. This was the only home I had known for so long. I recalled all of the performances that I had been a part of, whether I had been in the chorus or singing lead soprano. I recalled that first night when I had sang in Hannibal. I smiled at the thought of that night. How invigorating it had been. That had also been the night that Raoul had come back to me. I remembered being disappointed that he had not recognized me. Meg had been right; he had just not seen me. The smile faded from my face as I recalled the Phantom taking me down to his lair. His dark serenading. I longed to have Raoul's arms back around me, to fight off the darkness that threatened to engulf me just then. I turned frantically to him them. His eyes met mine while he was in the middle of discussing finances with Andre and Firmin. He must have seen the desperation in my eyes because he ended the conversation swiftly.
"Gentleman," he said, interrupting Firmin, "We shall have to continue this conversation at a later date. I promise you I will discuss this matter with my fiancé and will get back to as soon as possible." He brushed off their attempts to stop him and made his way over to me. He wrapped his arms around me and I buried my face in his chest.
"What's wrong, love?"
"I just needed you," I answered, "That's all." I hoped he understood. I didn't feel like voicing my feelings and fears just then.
"Of course, Little Lotte," he whispered into my hair. My lips curved into a smile at the use of me nickname.
"I'm sorry about all of this," his whispered after a long moment. I glanced up at him, confused. "I know that you've already lost one home. You didn't deserve to lose another," he finished. I pulled away from him slightly. It was true. At one point this had been my home, but all things must pass with time. I felt his arms wrapped securely around me. I had a new home. As long as he was with me I was home.
"I have a home," I whispered.
Anywhere you go let me go too
I softly repeated the lyrics. He beamed down at me.
"Come, Little Lotte," he said gently, "Let's go home."
A/N
Another chapter. What do you guys think? I hope you enjoyed because you probably own't get another one for a while for reasons stated in my profile. Thank you again for allof your reviews. They inspire me more then you know. Well you probably do.I'm done now. Until next time!