Disclaimer: Phantom of the Opera is most certainly not owned by moi!
Gasp! I love my darling three reviewers! Though, I'd also like to say hello to the six of you who have this story on alert. So, wave to catnipp, Countess Alana, Lurks in Shadows, M'selle de Paris, Nadiil, and White Time Ranger! …just so you don't all feel left out during author's notes.
Thank you to my darling three reviewers for the previous chapter.
VictorianDream: I don't have all the chapters pretyped. Probably up until 9-ish…and then other random pieces written. Phruity can attest to the fact that I am the most random writer…I'll write random segments and hope to efficiently tie them in later. (Like with this chapter!) I'm so glad you're enjoying this story and I hope you countinue to!
Phruity: Adelaide's only fan! YAY! I love how I totally "didn't do that to you" in the end and let you read it. Gaw. Thank you for attempting to encourage reviewers! Only three…sniffle Thank you for the support, dah-ling!
Misty Breyer: Christine vs. Adelaide, hm, hm, hm. Christine is quite high-maintenance isn't she? Haha, I love reading your conversations with Erik, they amuse me to no end!
Okay, about this chapter…it was one of the first things to this story I wrote, so, I apologies if it seems out of place, or, dare I say it OOC of my OC? (Most! Random! Statement! Ever!) Anyways, hope you enjoy it. Please, please, please, do review!
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My young wife sat quietly with her head in her hands, looking down at her knees. I was alert.
"Do you have a headache, Adelaide?"
She shook her head and raised her tired eyes so they met mine, she went so far to lift her eyebrows as if the questioned surprised her. She lied.
"No, I'm just tired." She gave an overly large, quick smile. "Doesn't the lull of a carriage ever make you sleepy, Raoul?"
I shook my head and smiled at her attempt to change the subject.
She leaned her head against the wall of the carriage and closed her eyes. The rocking only made her head beat against the blue velvet.
"Come over here, Adelaide. That looks like it hurts."
She flicked her eyes open, grateful at my invitation, as she would have never asked openly. Immediately she stood up with her back hunched over and placed herself delicately next to me, leaving Victoire sitting quietly on the opposite side, looking out the window.
"I'm so sorry about earlier today…on the ship," she began, hurriedly, "I hadn't meant to snap, I was worried and I didn't mean to be so cold, and now I feel terrible about what I said, because I really do-"
I opened my mouth , about to tell her to stop but she continued.
"Then, on the way to the road…to the carriages…I'm sorry I slowed down the group, not the first time I've done that today, I don't know what has come over me, I-"
She had brought it up herself.
"Adelaide, I think you do know what has come over you."
She didn't answer, and I didn't make her.
"Now, you should sleep before we get to Blois."
"Paris," she corrected. "We need to stop in Paris."
I rolled my eyes and she smiled.
Adelaide first placed her head awkwardly on my shoulder, as Christine used to do so easily, not finding a comfortable position. She slid further away from me, with perfect calculation, and started to place her head lightly in my lap. She looked up quickly, as if to gain permission.
"Of course."
Adelaide finally allowed herself to rest comfortably.
"Better?"
"Much, thank you."
She brought a hand to her head and pressed her thumb and middle finger to each temple. Oh, Adelaide. I pushed her hand away and gently tapped my fingers over her forehead, just above her eyelids and her temples in an attempt to break the tension.
"Your head does ache, Madame de Chagny," I said softly, enjoying the rare intimate moment with her.
She did not acknowledge the fact that she had attempted to hide her weakness, she only breathed in and out quietly, and tried to relax her ever-tense body. After a moment, she whispered quietly, "You bring out the best in me, Raoul."
I stopped my hands for a moment, taken aback by her sudden softness.
"You bring out the best in me," she repeated, "and I don't know what I'm going to do while you are away."
Her whispers tugged at my heart. My God, had I been completely blinded her stern face and cold demeanor? That one phrase showed me more to her then I could have perceived after nearly a year of marriage.
"I will miss you as well, Adelaide," was all I could say. It sounded too simple. Words seemed quite pointless.
After an hour or so, I thought she had fallen into a deep sleep as she would at home, in bed, next to me. I looked over at Victoire who had, since Adelaide's move, stretched out on the seat and fallen asleep. Apparently, it was I who was strange for not being put to sleep by the motion. I looked down at Adelaide's head in my lap. Her dark blond hair had nearly completely fallen out of the usual chiffon she always wore her hair in. I turned her face up to study, her shoulder blades prodded into my stomach.
I found dry tracks of silent tears on her abnormally pale face, and cleared them away with the tip of my index fingers. She really would miss me. Her eyes fluttered open and she sat up. I should have known she could never surrender completely in my arms.
"I want you to know, Adelaide…" I took a breath in. This was the first time I would ever say it directly.
She widened her eyes and nodded, pressing me forward.
"I want you to know…" I broke again.
"Please, Raoul, finish," she commanded calmly, her eyes piercing into mine.
"That I love you."
She too was not oblivious to the fact that that was the first time I had ever said it to her in a more meaningful tone. She smiled for a moment, and then it faded away to a thin line.
"You have not always loved me as you do now, have you?"
"No," I admitted, looking down at her hands that were fumbling over each other.
"But," she began slowly, "It's alright now."
I looked up at her face, for once she truly looked like the 20 year-old woman she was. Before she had always seemed much, much older then Christine ever had.
"It's alright because I know now that you do."
She bit her lip and for the first time since July I saw her eyes swim with tears.
"Adelaide, I don't know what to say, I know only that…"
"You don't have to say anything, dear." I smiled at her use of an affectionate word. "I said it is alright because it is." Her informal tone was trying to signal an end to the conversation…but I could not let it.
I risked a glance at her on my right…and to my surprise, I saw tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I didn't mean to upset you."
It was as if she just realized she was crying. She suddenly sat up straighter, which I hadn't though possible, and roughly brushed the tears from her face.
"You've never loved me as you say you do now because you were previously married…I know. You will never love me as you loved her – Raoul, I knew that from the moment you proposed."
I opened my mouth to protest, but she shot my a glance with her eyes, and I knew any attempt would be pointless.
"But you, Raoul," she looked down in her lap and batted at the beading on her skirt with her nail…it was so rare to see her uncomfortable, "You know, you will always be my first love. I just find it unfair," she raised her voice a bit, loosing control of herself only for a minute, "that I love you so and not have it returned."
She stopped speaking, and could see was she was planning on continuing.
I could not deny what she had said, for ever word was true. Unlike with Christine, I would felt guilty reassuring her of something that was not true. Christine had been a child, Adelaide was an adult who could not only face the truth but fully grasp and learn to accept it. I did not need to create a fictitious world to keep her content, for if I did, she would go mad.
The only thing I could do was press her cheek into my shoulder and quietly shush her.
"There now, be calm, I don't know what to do with you like this. It's so strange and different." She nodded, but I did not want to point this out to much for fear she would never open up like this to me again.
"There is something you should know, though, something I've never told anyone completely."
She turned and looked into my face.
"Something I must tell you before I go." She bit her lip at the reminder, but I continued, determined to finish. "I never felt that Christine loved me as you do. Yes, of course I loved her, but Christine was not ever," I looked out at the grey countryside of France rolling past us. I never did believe that news article. "And I fear will not ever be…completely mine."
"What do you mean," she sniffled, still regaining herself, "w-w-ill not ever?"
I sighed. There was no way I could continue keeping this from her.
"After Christine's Father died, she performed for the Parisian Opera House, the Opera Populaire-"
"Yes, I know," Adelaide said, curtly.
"If I am going to tell you this story, you must let me begin at the beginning and not interrupt or question me until the end."
Adelaide did not say a word.
"Always watching her, knowing everything about her…was a man. A poor man. Shunned by the world and unloved by his own Mother," this specific aspect of Erik's rejection from the world seemed to move Adelaide, as she took a sharp breath in and set her eyes downcast. "Christine became his obsession. He took advantage of her, and fooled her into giving him her very mind and soul. He was a violent man, truly, but never to her…and I only found myself fearing that but once. The only thing that he cared for or brought him to his knees was Christine. She both feared him and loved him…it was a connection I never understood. I took her away from him. Far away." I continued looking out the grey window, shocking myself at the pity in my voice. I suppose it was because I had never told this story outloud, only replayed the facts over and over in my mind. "Christine gave him her innocence, her very soul…and I don't believe she ever regained the latter. The Angel of Music was always a part of her, he never let her go."
I stopped, unable to go on. I looked over at Adelaide allowing her to speak again.
"And her innocence?"
I laughed softly. "Christine and the word innocence walked hand in hand."
She nodded, but I don't believe she could ever fully understand the meaning of that. "Thank you for telling me this," she said warmly, "It makes me feel…" Her voice faded.
"How does it make you feel?"
She blushed a little. "No. Nevermind."
I didn't press her, she had broken down self-created barriers today, and I wasn't going to make her go further then she wanted.
She laid on her side and put her head in my lap again. She smiled softly, and then closed her eyes.
"Does your head still pain you?"
"Oh, Raoul," she murmured, beginning to fall asleep again, "it always does."
After a few moments, she said quietly, "I think perhaps you should go to Paris alone later. Without me." I laughed as if it was a joke, but looked out the window again, thinking that perhaps she had a good suggestion.
My sister and her husband, Jean, were standing on the front stairs of the home when we rode down the winding path from the gate to the house. Adelaide was breathing loudly at the sight of the estate and began to shiver.
"Don't worry," I said for perhaps the fourth time that day, "they will love you."
She did not even listen to my words and instead continued to look quite helpless.
I took both her hands and turned her to face me.
"There is nothing you want to tell me now, before we step outside?"
She shook her head 'no' and tore her hands from my grasp and looked out at the house again.
"Victoire," she said, without shifting her gaze, "put on your cloak and wrap it tightly around you. It's freezing."
Victoire stood and handed Adelaide her own cloak that had been thrown on top of her's in the corner. She took it without saying anything and carelessly threw it about her shoulders. I leaned over and adjusted it properly, straightening it and tying it at the side of her neck.
We came to a stop and the footman opened the carriage door for us.
