Alright, alright, enough with the death threats already! Yeh, so I took a little unexpected turn in events, so what? You didn't actually think I'd let Luca die right? Tessa would have my hide for it! So...here's the next, and...dare I say it? LAST chapter of this story! Yes, the end has come! Well, not really, cause there's an epilogue waiting for you to be read right after this one, and since they're so connected to eachother I decided to upload them together, isn't that nice? I hope you will enjoy and that I will see many of you again when I start posting my new story in a bit, which will not be POTO but very well worth reading in any case, especially for those Gerry Butler fans out there! Enjoy and please lemme know what you think! -x- Lotte.

A dark blurriness surrounded him. Voices from afar, attempting to pull him back from whatever depths he had sank to. Hands touching, pressing at his shoulder, sending shockwaves of pain through his shivering body. The finest of needle pricks…somehow the hot trickle of blood seemed to have stopped. A cold cloth on his forehead, making him gasp as his eyes finally fluttered open again. His father's worried face, looking down on him in relief as his steady hands cautiously finished the last of the bandages. Then a sob on the opposite side of the bed, coming from the person he had feared never to see again…

"I thought I had told you not to get shot? Do you have any idea how frightened I have been?"

He smirked, if he hadn't been wounded this badly she would no doubt have pounded in on him for dear life.

"I suppose you had been better off telling Monsieur DuChamps that…"

Thérèse frowned at him, then at his father as she replaced the cloth on his forehead.

"Is he always this much of a nuisance when sick, Monsieur Erik?"

Erik simply shrugged his shoulders. "I would have been able to provide you with an answer my dear, had he ever been sick. Apparently it requiers a bullet to finally take him down."

Now it was Luca's turn to frown. "I would very much appreciate it if everyone would stop speaking of me as if I were not here and proceed by telling me what has happened."

Erik lifted his brow. "Well in case you hadn't noticed yet, you have obtained a nasty bullet wound to your right shoulder. I suppose Roger DuChamps was still suffering the effects of his overindulgence in alcoholic beverages from last night, and spun around at me too quickly. Instead of a straight aim his arm wandered off to the side. He could have hit either you or young Monsieur Bouquet…I suppose it just wasn't your lucky day this time."

"And DuChamps?"

His father seemed to falter for a moment before continuing: "Dead. Hit in the throat, ironically enough. Had my aim been as clear as I had wished it he would have had a blow to the heart and his death would have been much quicker…Your father's getting old, I guess."

"He did not deserve a quick death papa. A slow and agonising process is all I wished upon him. For what he did to me…to Aurora…to our family…and now my little brother."

All turned around as Céline slowly entered the bedroom. Strangely enough she seemed very calm and reserved, as if the whole ordeal had finally shaken her from her docile state and returned her liveliness to her.

Thérèse moved from the bed so as to allow Céline to take her place by Luca's side. For a moment they just sat there, holding hands, Céline nervously glancing from her wounded brother to her caring father.

"I am truly sorry you know. For everything. I have said and done such…horrible things, I do not know how to ever make amends…and now this. God, to think he might have killed you papa, or Luca! I would never have recovered, knowing you had died because of me." Her throat squeezed tight with tears and she could speak no further. She felt her father quietly moving to her side of the bed before taking her into his arms, shushing her gently.

"I have risked my life for many more a useless cause than you, my little angel. I would have died happily knowing it would have been for your health and happiness. But I didn't. You children are stuck with me for some time yet, I fear. Now, we will let your brother rest and write maman a long letter about our happy conclusion of the matter, and tell her how soon we will be home to her. How does that sound to you?"

Céline wiped at her tears impatiently, as she fervently nodded at her father. For he was her father. And no one would ever hear her speak otherwise again. And so they walked out, allowing Luca to slip back into peaceful slumber at the feel of Thérèse's hand running through his hair.

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"Signora, a letter has come from Parigi! From the Maestro!" Christine's head whipped around as Franca ran into the garden, Nicole close on her heels. Over the years, the three women had grown thick as blood and any piece of news from Paris was heartily welcomed.

Knowing all too well how it felt to be widowed at a young age, and not wishing such a fate upon her beloved friend twice, Franca had been relieved to see the letter addressed in the Maestro's impatient yet elegant hand. Nicole's first and only thought was towards the girl she had helped raise into a young woman, dreading the fate she had encountered. Having three sons herself, she had never stopped seeing Céline as the daughter she had secretly wished for.

The three of them sank down in the grass, as Christine hurriedly broke the wax seal and raced her eyes over the letter's content. It was brief, and obviously written in great haste, yet it told her all she had hoped to hear.

Paris, le 3ième Juin 1895.

Ma chère Christine,

Please forgive me for refraining from writing so long. I trust you will know however, that there has not been a moment you have been from my mind and my dreams. But I shall not bore you with my trifle words of affection, for my reasons for writing are far more important.

Our ordeal seems to have come to an end. Monsieur Roger DuChamps has been appropriately dealt with and our darling daughter is safely back under my protective wing. We are preparing our return to Venice as I write, and hope to depart tomorrow morning after breakfast. With the current gentle summer weather assisting us, I expect to be back by your side at Palazzo Persico within the week. Please know that I will know no rest till then, and that it was most certainly the first and last time I shall ever allow any matter to have us separated this long.

Your loving and devoted husband.

Erik.

P.S. Ma chère Maman,

A quick word from your daughter to tell you how it joys my heart to be able to return to you all. How I have missed your love and your guidance! I cannot begin to comprehend how blind I have been in entrusting my heart and my virtue to such a foul being as my -now departed- husband. Papa and Luca have been so kind in coming to my aid; I shall never have sufficient word to ever thank them for their strength of heart and mind, and their generousity towards me. Papa assures me he shall speak to Father Domenico with regard to the annulment of my wedding vows and all shall be well in the end, save for the loss of confidence I have obtained with regard to my own better judgement.

Please convey my deepest feelings of love and affection to my siblings, whom I hope shall prove equally forgiving to the errors in my behaviour of late.

I remain, your loving daughter,

Céline.

Christine finally allowed her breath to escape her, as well as her tears of relief. The letter before her showed her an image of two equally drained and broken people, people she loved dearly, yet they were alive and well and by now on their way back to Italy.

"They are coming home. All is well and they will be home before the week is out!"

At that the other two women responded equally relieved and all returned to the house for preparations. As she went in search of her other children Christine whispered a silent prayer of thanks to the heavens, eager to hold her angels close again soon.

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Breakfast had been a grand affair, a farewell party between close friends who might not see each other again for a very long time. The Valmont's family physician had come by to look at Luca's shoulder, giving him a tonic of laudanum to assure he would be able to travel without much hindrance to his injuries. Assuming there could only be one reason for such a young man to obtain a bullet wound like that, he had merely winked and asked whether the young lady in question had proved to be worth his efforts, and whether he had left his opponent worse off.

As the adults saw to the loading of the carriage, Luca and Thérèse stood quietly in the shade of the trees down the lawn, unsure of what to say now that their cautiously blooming relationship was so suddenly interrupted by their cruel separation.

"Are you sure you will be alright? Italy is such a long way to travel, and the roads can be so bumpy at times…"

"I have my laudanum and an ample amount of pillows, Teresa. Perhaps I could ask Céline to elaborate on her views on the latest Paris fashions and I shall be asleep in no time, I assure you."

"Tessa, I told you it was Tessa. No man shall kiss me like you did and insist on my full name. I will not have it."

Luca chuckled at the girl's persistence, she was inches short of stomping her foot at him. "Very well, I could never deny you any request, my beautiful Tessa…"

She swallowed hard at his gentle words and quickly looked away, not wanting him to see her fervent blushing nor the impending tears in her eyes.

"Will you write to me when you are home? For I intend to write you as often as my work will allow me, and I would be very sad not to receive a reply to my efforts…that is if you would like me to write you of course, for if not I would understand, I mean…"

Her nervous ramblings were pleasantly interrupted as he pressed his lips to hers as he had done the day before, and she could once again feel herself melting away at his touch. As he heard their parents approach he carefully let go of her again, encircling her slender waist with his left arm as he looked down at her.

"I would be very disappointed not to hear from you, cara. And I will promise to reply to any letter you wish to bestow upon me."

He seemed to doubt for a moment, quickly looking up to see how much precious time would be left, before burying his hand in her golden curls once more.

"We shall be married one day, you and I. And once we are, I shall never leave your side again. We will travel the world and see places beyond our wildest imagination…"

Not sure how to respond to such a remark she simply nodded. Was this a proposal? Did her approval mean they were betrothed now? Suddenly she no longer cared, for official or not she already knew her heart could never belong to another.

She hid in his arms one last time before quickly pulling away in fear of hurting his shoulder, straightening the sling on his arm for the fifth time in equally as many minutes.

"I will not see you again, will I?" Marie's quiet voice called him back from his reverie as he had been enjoying the sight of his son's happiness.

It had not been a question, more like a simple fact presented; reminding him their farewell would probably be a final one. Never in his living days would he set foot on French soil again, as sure as he knew she would never leave it. They would return to their distant comforting friendship, an occasional letter, and the reassurance the other would be well.

"No, I suppose not. I shall write you when we reach Venice."

"I would like that very much, thank you."

"Marie…"

"I know, I know, you're welcome. Now go, your children are tired and in need of their mother's care. Be safe, mon frère." And with that she gave him a quick embrace before turning around and walking back into the house without a second glance.

He turned to see both his children patiently waiting for him by the carriage, Luca with his wounded arm and Céline in an obvious state of insomnia, still torturing herself for her faults day and night.

"Just look at the pair of you. I'll have quite some explaining to do to your poor mother when we get home." He muttered semi-angrily before helping both of them inside.

As the carriage pulled into movement Luca dozed off almost immediately, the smile across his face leaving no doubt as to what, or who, he was dreaming of.

Céline cuddled up against her father, pulling her cloak around herself a little tighter.

"Papa?"

"Yes angel?"

"Will you tell me of when we first traveled to Italy? When you came to France to help maman and I? After…my father had died?"

An affectionate smile played across Erik's lips. Ever since she was little Céline had been enthralled by the story, her father resembling a knight in shining armour in her romantic fantasies.

"Very well then. It was a misty winter's eve as I sat in my library reading, when Renzo walked in with your grand-mère's letter…"

He had not even reached Christine yet in the story when he felt her slip off into slumber, dreaming of better days…

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Christine had been up since six in the morning, anxiously staring at the horizon for any sign of her family. She had received a note from Erik from Vicenza the previous afternoon, saying that they would indeed be arriving today as he had anticipated. She could not deny this separation of a mere three weeks had eaten away at her as painfully as the five years of her first marriage had. Her very being seemed to feed from Erik's omnipotent presence. She once more looked around her room, Le Camere Segrete that had long ago given up their secrets. The embodiment of his love for her, her safe haven. Here they had fought, they had loved so passionately, they had sung, they had brought their children onto this world…here their souls had melted into one, never to be parted again no matter how great the distance, and it eased her worried heart to know that her Angel would always find his way back here.

She had just started reading his earlier letters to keep her mind occupied for a while, as the ratteling of a carriage was heard coming through the gates and the entire Palazzo seemed to jump to life. Gathering her skirts she ran from her room, down the stairs, through the hallway and onto the courtyard. The tattering of feet betrayed Aurora, Matteo and Giulia following close behind her, but all she could focus on right now were the three wary figures slowly making their way down from the carriage. Within moments she held her eldest daughter in her arms, sobs wracking through the girl's body from the relief of being home again.

"Maman, oh maman I am so glad to be home, I am so sorry, for everything, I should never…He…Oh God…"

As Christine hushed her she noticed Luca slowly approaching her, his step slightly faltering and his arm hanging from a sling.

"My sweet boy, what have you done to yourself?"

Her eyes immediately shot up to Erik's face, full of questions yet his tired eyes assured her he would tell her all in good time.

Céline by now had walked on towards Aurora, the sisters eying each other cautiously for a moment before falling into each others arms. Erik sighed, much as he rejoiced in the reunion of his family all these whimpering girls were getting the better of him now. He was once again saved by his little girl, softly tugging his sleeve.

"Was Paris beautiful papa?" He gently swung her up into his arms and kissed her forehead.

"No my sweet, there was not much beauty to be found I'm afraid. I did however get you your present, but I fear I will need to unpack first."

Upon turning towards the house he noticed Matteo looking completely lost, his sisters run off by themselves and his mother having ushered his wounded brother inside.

"And how did the household fare in my absence, Signore Alighieri?"

Matteo immediately straightened his shoulders, proud of the confidence his father held in him.

"All was well. There were a few messages from the building committee at the Law Faculty, but I informed them you were away on urgent business to Paris and they would simply have to wait till you returned. I…sort of mentioned it had to do with the Opera House…I suppose they are under the impression you had been asked to review the building."

Erik nodded, leading his youngest children inside with him. "Very well, I knew I could rely on you."

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That night, as the house had finally fallen quiet, Erik crossed the familiar hallway towards Christine's chambers. He was tired and wary and in need of comfort, and went to seek it at the one place that had never left him wanting. He had barely closed the door behind him as Christine was by his side, taking his large hands in her smaller ones and silently leading him towards the bedroom. It wasn't until she gently kissed him and started unbuttoning his shirt, that Erik suddenly broke down beneath her touch.

"Never again, I promised you…I would not kill again and now my promises have proved empty. I aimed and shot, I watched the bullet enter his body, and I watched with a sickening pleasure as the life drained out of him while minutes went by. I did not even notice my own child bleeding behind me, as he was looked after by a boy whose father was lost to my hands as well. Why can't these demons let me be, why must my life consist of this endless string of violence and suffering? Why must I hear those lamenting voices in my mind by day and by night? Please make them stop Christine, I cannot manage this life without you. You have no idea how much I have yearned for your love and your guidance…"

His words reminded her of a cold winter's morning at the cemetary long ago, when her despair had all but consumed her and he had whispered similar words in her ear, only then to heal her aching heart. She knew her voice had the ability to haunt him as much as his could her, and so she decided to try and wake him from his nightmares by song, with the only words seeming appropriate right now.

"No more talk of darkness, forget your wide-eyed fears;
I'm here.

Nothing can harm you, my touch will warm and calm you;
Let me be your freedom, let moonlight dry your tears;
I'm here.

With you beside you, to love you and to guide you…"

His shaking form relaxed under her spell, his tears went dry as he listened to her soothing words. Never had her hands stilled their movements on his body, showing him the truth of her words through her touch.

"Your voice…so pure…the child of my creation…"

Christine nodded. "As is my entire being. Your architecture, your music, our children…Your heart and soul and hands have created such miracles, why allow those to wither compared to the few you were forced to destroy?"

He looked up at her insecurely. "I have made you live with a murderer Christine…"

She took his face in her hands, slipping off his mask as she had done on the evening of her final declaration of love. No more nightmares, no more fears.

"I made my own choice Erik. You brought me back from the edge of insanity, returned my life to me when you had every reason to be resentful. You had no obligations towards me. I got to know the man that loved me, the man I grew to love in return, and I have no regrets. I never had. No man is without fault my love, especially not one who was never offered a fair chance at life to begin with. We receive what Destiny has in store for us, and deal with it as best we can. That shall be our truth…"

Erik nodded slowly, his hands now coming into action to return the loving affection she was showing him. "That shall be our truth…"

And with their lovemaking that night, his haunting shadows finally disappeared. For good this time.

quoted song by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Ryce, with a few convenient word changes by moi. LM1010