Chapter Twenty-Nine: Tale As Old As Time

As Christine stood in her room, allowing La Esmeralda to primp and pamper her, the redhead was filled with anxiety.
Ever since she'd agreed to celebrate the restoration of the ballroom with a dance, her stomach had felt as though it were filled with butterflies.
Now, as the moment to go downstairs grew closer, the feeling grew stronger.

Ever since Erik had saved her from the wolves, Christine had felt a serious shift in her relationship with him.
He didn't have to go after her.
He could have left her to die.
But instead, he had not only saved her life, but had nursed her back to health, and then he'd even given her her very own library!

Their conversations now went far beyond books.
Their walks in the gardens were longer, neither wanting them to end.
Christine found herself anticipating dinner, no longer just for the scrumptious food, but also for the company.
If she'd had a friend to talk to, she probably would have admitted that her feelings for Erik, as unlikely as it seemed, had become deeper than she had ever thought possible.
And now she was about to go spend the evening with him, dancing in the ballroom.
She sighed.
How had she gotten here?

La Esmeralda gave Christine's dress one final adjustment and then turned her around so that she was facing the full-length mirror.
The redhead gasped in amazement.

After her first day in the castle, she had been slightly hesitant to let the wardrobe dress her.
They talked about Christine's preference for clothing without frills, for outfits that had practical elements, like hemlines that didn't drag on the floor and pockets - much to La Esmeralda's dismay.
But slowly, La Esmeralda had begun to create ensembles that fit Christine to a tee.
And that night, she had outdone herself.

Christine didn't even recognize the girl staring back at her with wide blue eyes.
Her flaming red hair which was normally tied back in a tight braid had been partially plaited and then brushed out into soft, gentle curls, accenting her porcelain cheeks, which had been ever so lightly dusted with blush.
And the dress.
The dress was something out of Christine's wildest fantasies.
It floated around her like a golden halo.
With every movement she made, it shone, catching the light and casting it back into the room.
La Esmeralda stretched out one of her drawers, and suddenly, a layer of gold dust magically drifted down from the ceiling, coating the dress and making it, if possible, even more beautiful.
And, as an added bonus, the dress was as light as a feather, making it easy for Christine to move in it.
Pleased with her work, La Esmeralda pushed the redhead out the door.

Christine stood still for a long moment, her heart pounding.
"It's just one evening," she scolded herself.
"Stop being silly and get down those stairs."

Taking a deep breath, the redhead began the long walk down the hall toward the staircase.
Reaching the top, she looked across to the top of the West Wing's stairs.
To her surprise, Erik was standing there - clad in his best formal wear, looking just as nervous as she felt.
Their eyes met and she saw them widen and his jaw drop slightly before he quickly regained his senses.
They walked toward each other, meeting on the center landing.
Christine immediately dropped into a graceful curtsy as he bowed his head and extended his arm, inviting her, without words, to join him.
She didn't hesitate to take it.

Together, they descended the staircase.
With each step, Chtistine's anxiety faded.
It felt normal to be walking with Erik.
And when he started to lead her into the dining room, it was her decision to turn to the ballroom instead.

The redhead sensed his hesitation as she led him to the middle of the dance floor.
But just as quickly as that hesitation had appeared, it disappeared as music magically began to play.
The room had been scrubbed clean and lit with hundreds of candles so that everything glowed like the golden dress Christine wore.
The stage was set.

And then they began to dance.
They waltzed in perfect time, Christine's feet following Erik's automatically.
They moved in a series of steps and delicate spins, each partner in tune with the other.
It was as though they had been dancing for years, not minutes, and once again, the redhead was struck by how comfortable she felt around Erik.
As Maestro Reyer reached a crescendo in the music, Erik lifted Christine so that she floated at his side, and then swept her into a thrilling dip.
When the music finally came to an end and the ballroom fell into silence, Christine felt a strange tug of sadness that it was over.

As if sensing this, Erik did not release her hand.
Instead, he led her out to the large terrace that circled the ballroom.
A companionable silence fell over the pair as they both stared up at the starry sky.
The air was crisp, as it always was around the enchanted castle, but not uncomfortable.
Christine felt as though Erik's arms were still wrapped around her, the warmth from the ballroom somehow finding its way outside.

"I haven't danced in years," Erik said, breaking the silence.
"I'd almost forgotten the feeling."
He dragged his eyes from the stars and looked down at Christine.
His gaze was full of warmth - and something else.

He shifted nervously on his feet, as though not sure whether to go on.
Christine waited, trying to encourage him silently.
Then he spoke again.
"It's foolish, I suppose, for someone like me to hope that one day he might earn your affection."

Christine hesitated.
It wasn't foolish.
At least, a few moments ago, it hadn't seemed foolish.

"I don't know..." the redhead whispered to herself, but Erik heard and his golden eyes flared brightly with hope.
"Really?" he asked eagerly.
"Do you really think that you could be happy here?"

Christine bit her lip as her eyes turned dark with sorrow.
"Can anyone be happy if they aren't free?" she asked softly.
Erik's face fell, knowing she was right.

An image of Gustave flashed through Christine's mind.
"Papa taught me to dance," Christine reminisced fondly.
"I used to step on his toes a lot."
"You must miss him," Erik said, the tone of her voice not lost on him.
The redhead nodded silently.

Seeing the tears rise in Christine's eyes, Erik felt his heart tighten.
He hated to see her in pain, especially when he knew there was a way he could ease it.
"Come with me," he said, taking her hand.

Silently, he led her off the terrace and back through the ballroom.
He didn't answer when she asked where they were going and didn't explain when he brought her into his room and lifted a small hand mirror up to her.
All he said was, "Show me Monsieur Daaé."
Then he handed the mirror to Christine and waited.

The face of the mirror swirled magically and within moments, Christine's reflection had been replaced by an image of Gustave.
With growing horror, she watched her father being dragged through the village square.
Terror was etched on his face and he was calling out for someone - anyone - to help him.
"Papa!" she cried. "What are they doing to him?"

Erik had hoped to make Christine happy by showing her her father, but her reaction was anything but happy.
Confused, he peered over her shoulder and his eyes widened in shock as he, too, saw what was happening to the old man.
Pain for Christine, for what was happening to her father, overcame him.
Then, as the redhead continued to watch her father through the mirror, Erik's gaze drifted to the rose jar.

Another petal fell and drifted downwards.

Madame Giry's words echoed in his head.
He pictured the staff, their hopeful faces as he had finally gotten dressed for the evening.
Then he looked back at Christine and saw the agony in her eyes.
He knew this was a moment of choice.
But he also knew that there was no choice to be made.
He had to start righting the wrongdoings that he could right.

"Then you must go to him," Erik said, trying to keep his own pain from his voice.
Christine looked up.
"What did you say?" she breathed out in shock.
"I release you," he clarified. "You are no longer my prisoner."

Tears of gratitude and appreciation replaced her tears of sadness as Christine looked up at Erik.
There was so much she wanted to say, so much she needed to say, but she didn't know where to begin.
She started to return the mirror, but he shook his head.
"Keep it with you," he said, "so you'll always have a way to look back and remember me."
"Oh, thank you!" the redhead choked out through her tears.
"Thank you for everything!" she added silently.
And then, before she could change her mind, Christine turned and ran.

A/N: Please review to unlock Chapter Thirty...