Thank you all for reading!
partie cinq
Christine Daaé - very soon to be Cristine Claudin - was a thing of exquisite beauty. And Erik had the unbelievable honor of becoming her husband.
She stood at the beginning of the church aisle, on the arm of Father Mansart. The priest would not be officiating their marriage, but would be giving her away; they'd found a priest here, in Paris, where Erik was studying music under a famous blind composer. Christine had been accepted into dance school here as well, the admissions office jumping at the chance to teach the daughter of the famous violinist Gustave Daaé.
They would be artists, in love.
And today would be the true start of the forever they'd promised to each other as children.
Erik felt his heart swell and soar as he gazed at her. She was lovely in white, even though her face was covered by the veil. Her brown curls were done up with pins in the shape of flowers. He could sense her smile even from here. Though there were a small few number of guests in the pews - mostly her friends - nothing existed at this moment save for her.
He'd loved her since he understood the meaning of the word. Every moment he could spend with her, he did. Suppers and afternoons at Father Mansart's house turned into mid-days and mornings as well. Most days, he came home only to sleep - and after a while, he began sleeping at the priest's house too. The guestroom became his room - his own room. Not the attic. His belongings trickled over the months and years to stay at the house of his loved ones. His true family.
Over time, it became clear that what Father Mansart felt for him wasn't pity, but was parental affection. And Christine's love wasn't just that of a friend - but, in fact, matched his own. As such, when the town doctor asked Erik's mother to marry him and move to England, Erik refused to go. Father Mansart offered to take him in, officially, and Madeleine enthusiastically agreed.
Eventually, the Mansart-Daaé-Claudin family moved her. To Paris.
The land of beauty and art.
The place Christine and he would grow old together.
She walked up the aisle. Stood herself before him/ They said I do - and they were married.
And a few years later, they had their first child.
Then another.
Then another.
Their children aged. Had children of their own. Erik became a composer, Christine a dance instructor. Their children and children's children made art as well. Love and aesthetic beauty filled the Claudin home - something Erik never thought he'd be able to say before he met his wife.
They lived.
Really lived.
Each and every moment was appreciated for what it was - a moment spent in the company of the person they loved most.
And in the twilight of their lives, when they sat together at night and waited calmly for their souls to go beyond the horizon and into the next life...when they passed each and every one of their lifetime's great joys and losses, victories and small pleasures, there was an unspoken word passed between them.
At every turn, they were just two children standing under the moonlight, clasping one another's hands, working against expectations just to be near the other.
A squeeze of fingers.
"Forever?"
A quiet, joyful smile.
"Yes. Forever."
~Fin~