The Perfect Solution
An Alternate Universe – Phantom of the Opera Story
Nyasia A. Maire
© 2007
DISCLAIMER: I do not hold the rights nor did I create any characters found in The Phantom of the Opera or Phantom, nor have I received monetary compensation for writing this story.
Raoul's Song
From "Lilith"
The birds have told their bliss.
And all too soon, that ebbing music ends
On purple reach of streams where Twilight bends
The brow to Evening's kiss.
Turn thou as mute to mine!
For on the white Beginnings of thy breast
My brow and lips, idolatrous, would rest
And know the hour divine.
Now end the barren years.
The lucid evening star, a drop of dew
Hidden till sunsets rose had burned anew,
Shines also in thy tears.
Let not thy love delay,
Not silence hold our destinies apart;
For what thy beauty says unto my heart,
My heart can never say.
George Sterling
Chapter Forty-Six – Raoul's Song
"Megan Marguerite Giry, would you do me the honor of agreeing to become my wife? Would you do me the honor of wearing my ring as a token and sign of our betrothal? Meg, will you marry me?"
She slowly closed her mouth with a click of her teeth and she grimaced slightly.
"From the first moment I met him, this is everything I have always wanted. Why am I so frightened now?"
Without realizing it, the words flew from her mouth of their own volition.
"Oh yes, Raoul! Of course, I will marry you!"
His hand dove into the pocket of his coat and his fingers curled around the small box he had been carrying around for weeks. He withdrew the box, raised it before him and carefully opened it. Meg gasped as her eyes locked on the large, blue oval diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds. The white gold band glittered in the gas lights as he removed the ring from the box, which fell unnoticed from his hand. Trembling only slightly, he took up Meg's left hand and slid the ring on her third finger. Standing, he suddenly straightened, a passionate look building in his eyes, he took Meg in his arms and began thoroughly kissing her lips. As his arms wound around her body, he felt her stiffen, but as he ignited her passion, she softened and her body melded into his. The couple enjoyed the moment, losing themselves in the joy of their kisses.
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
"So?"
The younger man walked about his brother's office for a moment before dropping into one of the armchairs in front of the desk.
"So, what?"
Phillipe groaned.
"Fine! If you wish to keep me in suspense, go right ahead."
Raoul pursed his lips as if he were considering his brother's words carefully. His eyes softened and his lips relaxed into a wide grin.
"I have absolutely no idea what you mean, Phillipe. You really should be plain when you speak. You know, say what you mean dear brother."
The older man rolled his eyes.
"Very well! Did you ask her to marry you? Did you ask Mademoiselle Giry to become your wife? Or, have you become the cat that ate the canary with that grin you are wearing?"
Raoul lifted his leg, draping it over the arm of the chair and began to hum quietly. Phillipe gaped in shock at his brother's uncharacteristic behavior.
"What on earth are you doing? Have you taken leave of your senses? Someone could walk in here and I have no idea what they would think. Raoul, what has gotten into you?"
Raoul smirked in response to his brother's questions. His hanging leg began to bounce in time with the song he hummed. After a few moments, he tilted his head to the side as if in thought. He halted the movement of his leg and considered Phillipe.
"Do you know that I have seriously begun to reconsider my choice of careers, Phillipe? I wonder if I am too old to begin vocal training. What do you think, Phillipe? My voice is passable, is it not? I think I would cut a dashing figure as a leading man on the opera stage. Yes, that way I would have a reason to be close to my wife and I would not be a pest by hanging around the stage all day. That way I could see my wife whenever I wished. No, wait. No. If I were the leading tenor, I would have to kiss the leading soprano and that would never do …."
Phillipe cut his brother's rambling discourse short.
"Raoul! Enough! You are not making any sense at all. What in blazes is going on in your head? You must certainly wish to have father keel over dead to talk such nonsense."
The older man stared intently at the younger one.
"Wait!"
He jumped up from his chair and strode around his desk. Looking down into his little brother's sparkling eyes, he reached out and cuffed him on the back of the head.
"You scamp! You wish to become an opera singer so you may be near to your wife. Hmmm …. I take it the girl accepted your proposal. Congratulations, Raoul. Now, if we can just get father and mother to accept this union, well, all should be right as rain."
Raoul's grin burst into a radiant smile.
"No, Phillipe. If we can just find you a woman strong enough to handle you and make you settle down, then all will be right as rain."
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
The sound of the excited screech echoed about the empty stage of the opera house, followed by the light footsteps of pointe shoes across the wooden floor. The lithe form of the blonde ballerina ran onto the stage and gracefully leapt into a grand jeté landing on the opposite foot from the one on which she began. The sound of a cane thumping interrupted the joyous dance of the girl.
"Brava, ma chère! However, you must concentrate just a bit more on your arm and hand positions. May I ask what has caused you to leap into dance this evening?"
"Well, then perhaps, a basic port de bras exercise is in order and while I perform the positions, you might discover the cause of my happiness."
Slowly, as if hearing a graceful piece of music in her head, the girl moved into the bras bas position then into the first arm position, to second arm position, to bras bas and then to the fifth overhead position and back down to bras bas.
The older woman's eyes widen as she noticed the glint of metal on her daughter's hand, but said nothing until the girl completed the exercise.
"Well done and I see that congratulations are in order as well. So, when did the boy work up his nerve to ask you?"
"Maman! Do not be cruel. Raoul is such a dear. He just left. He asked me not ten minutes or so ago."
Meg's full lips told her mother that the proposal had most likely taken place quite some time ago, but she made no comment as she could see how ecstatic her daughter felt and did not wish to put a damper on her mood. A sudden thought struck the older woman.
"Come, Meg. I think this news calls for a celebration and we must hurry if we are to make it before they close. Here sit down and I shall help you remove your pointe shoes."
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
The pair settled into the small booth in the rowdy café and held their steaming cups of the rich, thick hot chocolate. Antoinette was the first to speak.
"Meg, I wish you and your boy a long, healthy and happy life together."
She raised her cup, nodded her head to her daughter as she smiled, then sipped at the dark brew in her cup. Meg returned the gesture and after a moment of thoughtful contemplation spoke.
"Maman, you could come and live with Raoul and me. I really do not wish for you to live alone. First Christine and now me. I feel like we have abandoned you. Come live with us and share in our happiness."
Antoinette smiled and shook her head.
"No, ma petite. A household has room for only one mistress, not two. You must make your home with your husband as must Christine. That is the way of things. Do not worry about me. You and Christine leaving home means that I have done my job. For that is what all mothers … and fathers do. We bring a tiny infant into the world and raise it. All the time knowing, the reason for all of our love and care is to have that child leave us and begin their own family. From the moment I knew I was with child, I knew this day would come. I look at you, ma chère and see what a fine young woman you have become and I can be proud of the job I have done. You are ready to begin your family now with Raoul, but remember, ma petite, you shall always be my bébé. I love you, Megan."
A single tear fell from each of their eyes, which they quickly wiped away.
"I love you too, Maman."
Antoinette cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders.
"So, I hear we are to have luncheon with the Marquis and Marquise de Chagny next week. When did you plan to inform me of this?"
"Maman! How did you hear about this? I told no one."
The older woman's eyes glistened with amused mischief.
"Oh, I know everything that happens under the roof of this opera house or did you not know this?"
She smiled and arched her eyebrow at her daughter. Meg frowned, a worried light coming into her eyes. Seeing the change in her daughter's demeanor, Antoinette sighed.
"I jest, Megan. I received an invitation from the Marquis and Marquise in this morning's post. Please, Megan. You no longer need to fear the Opera Ghost. The Opera Ghost is no more."
The girl gave a loud sigh of relief and blew on her hot chocolate.
"Well then, I suppose the only thing we need worry about is the Marquis and Marquise then."
She sipped at her hot chocolate for a moment and then looked at her mother with a curious look.
"Perhaps, I was better off when I only had to worry about the Opera Ghost, Maman."
The older woman chuckled and shook her head.
"Silly girl."
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
"Really Erik, I am fine. I wish you would stop fussing over me and tell me what is bothering you."
The man turned and looked into his wife's eyes.
"Oh? And, how do you know that something bothers me, ma chéri?"
Christine rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"Please do not play innocent with me. Erik, you have barely touched me since I made my confession. Has the shock worn off and you now find yourself regretting that you have tied your life to me?"
The man swiftly took her hands into his.
"No, ma chéri. I shall never regret a moment of our lives together. Je t'aime, ma chéri."
She stared at him intently.
"Je t'aime, Erik. Well, if you love me then what is it? Why will you not make love with me?"
His eyes dropped to their joined hands as his cheeks flushed a deep crimson.
"Erik?"
He mumbled something she could not hear.
"Erik? What did you say?"
He cleared his throat and raised his eyes to hers.
"Well, it is just that yesterday you were an eight year old girl and today, well …. I just need time to accustom myself to the change. I feel as if I am robbing the cradle."
The man found himself completely taken by surprise when the woman dropped his hands, cupped his face with hers and brought his face to hers for a searing kiss.
"I think it is past time for us to retire to our bedchamber, mon amour." She whispered huskily.
Erik nodded shakily. The two rose from their places before the hearth. Christine gave out a giggle and dashed out the door. Stunned, Erik stood there for a moment until he heard Christine's voice call to him from out in the hall.
"Erik? The bed is awfully cold. I need you to come and help me warm it."
And, like Pavlov's dog, the man salivated and rushed to follow the sound of his wife's voice.
Author's Note: Hope everyone is enjoying their summer! Please read and review! --ny