Hill and Vale In Slumber Sleeping

Graveyard Scene- "Wishing you were somehow here again"; and the sword fight.
A/N: This scene is bit of a departure from the most recent chapters, as it is only depicted from Christine's point of view- I always thought that this scene is where we really see Christine at her most vulnerable, and yet there is the promise of a woman of strength behind the waffling adolescent.

Enjoy,

K.S.

Christine:

The carriage ride to the cemetery was absolutely silent. The driver did not chatter on as he usually does; he was unusually receptive to my somber mood. There was snow on the ground and the world looked like it was sleeping under a pale blanket. I gripped the roses that I had found on my bureau- crimson roses, leaving no doubt as to who had left them. I can't think straight… I need to talk to Papa. Even though he is not there to answer me, just talking to him will help. I've almost decided what I'm going to do… almost.
But since it sounds utterly insane in my head- how will it sound when spoken aloud? And so passed the carriage ride, in silence and in doubt. That's all I ever do- doubt. I doubt myself, I doubt my Angel, I doubt Raoul… Everyone's motives and everyone's sanity… My life is a merry-go-round of madness.

The moment I was out of the carriage, the driver was gone, probably to shelter the horses out of this bitter January wind. Of course I took my time on my way to Papa's grave… it gave me time to iron out my thoughts.
Oh, how I miss him! Papa would know just what to say to me! "What does your heart tell you, my little one? Most times, you need to listen to your head…" here he would tap at my temple, "But when it's the matters of the heart… what does the head know?" He could always make me laugh, my Papa. I trusted myself when he was still with me… I lost that trust until my Angel gave it back to me. I need to talk to him as much as I need to talk to my father.
Looking up at Papa's tomb- that cold marble and wrought iron monstrosity! I knew what I must do. I should be proud of myself- I've made one decision with no outside interference! It almost makes me breathe more freely.
I shall go to him, in his home. Just to talk… we've not talked, really talked, since before my debut all those months ago! As soon as I pay my respects to my Papa… to dear Papa, who still has the power to help me.

And then the music started, and I knew the reason why the carriage ride was so quiet. It was him! He was here, with me, and he was singing to me, so sweetly, like before, as if nothing had ever happened to create a chasm between us.

"Come out! Please- I know that it's you… we need to speak. No more recriminations, no more threats. It is just the two of us here… I don't want to lose you, Angel!" I was calm until the last- it seemed as if it were pulled out of me, like a banshee's wail.

He stepped out from behind my father's tomb, wrapped in his customary black cloak- a fedora perched rakishly on his head, shading the mask. "I would never deny you, Mademoiselle Daae. Shall I offer my congratulations upon the occasion of your engagement?" His voice was nasty with cynicism.
I swallowed hard and shook my head, "I fully intend on breaking it off. I should have never encouraged him in the first place. But as you well know, I have a terribly lack of spine when it comes to such things."

He moved close to me, a gloved hand outstretched. It lifted my hair and ran down the column of my neck, "No, I distinctly feel the presence of a backbone… it's just hidden under all that hair." His smile was ironic. The one I gave him in reply must have looked unbelievably relieved. "What do you want to speak with me about, Christine?"

"I… I wanted to tell you… that…." my courage was draining from me by the moment as I looked into those changeable sea-colored eyes… " That… I hate pink!" All the breath left my lungs at this… shocking confession.
He was obviously taken aback by my admission, and then he began to chuckle… The Phantom of the Opera was standing alone with me, in a cemetery, laughing at my daring admission. "Then, ma cher, you shall never have to wear pink again. I would deck you out in scarlet and sapphire, silver and the palest gold, if you would let me." He murmured. I remembered our aborted kiss all those months ago… I wondered what it would be like were he to close that short space- that infinite space, and actually kiss me. It would be hot and sweet, surely! Like hot sweet cider, mulled with cinnamon and cloves and a whisper of oranges mixed in. He moved like one of those great cats at the zoological gardens, a tiger perhaps- even his eyes were like a cat's! Green-gray irises rimmed with gold, and his eyelashes would make Carlotta envious, they are so thick and dark. All these thoughts tumbled through my star-struck brain as he closed the gap between us and I closed my eyes; my lips parted of their own volition.

I could feel his breath upon my face, he was so close! We must have heard the horseman at the same time, for we leapt apart, guilty as sweethearts discovered by a parent. Only this was worse. It was Raoul.

"Away from her, you monster!" He shouted, his sword drawn almost as soon as he was off the steaming white horse. "Christine, run!" But I couldn't, I was frozen to the spot as my Angel, my Phantom, drew his own sword and they met with a clash of steel. He was good- he must have studied how to go about it- and this was no sparring or stage-fight: This was real and would end only when blood was spilt. I couldn't speak, couldn't even cry out… I just stood there, watching two men try to kill one another over me. My Angel bloodied Raoul first, but they didn't stop… I took my eyes from the battle long enough to throw-up. It's not so much the sight of blood that makes me ill, it's the smell of it. I can't even eat meat that isn't burnt to a crisp… and these French adore steaks that look up from the plate and start lowing at you.
But the coppery scent of it nearly made my eyes roll back, even though I'd emptied my stomach of what little it had in it. They were closer now, much closer, flashing silver blades and then suddenly, I will never know how it happened, Raoul gained the advantage. He knocked away his opponent's sword, and made to deliver a final, deadly blow.

"Raoul, stop!" I called out. I don't think he heard me at first, but something propelled me to his side, plucking at the blade in his hand. "Please, Raoul… Not like this. Raoul, please. Let's just go." I pried the sword from his hand and staggered back with it- the weight more than I could bear. "No more blood. Please. I…" I don't remember anything else until I woke, lying in my own bed, with Madame Giry and Meg at my side, wiping my face with a cold cloth.

One look told me that Raoul was waiting outside the door, a contemplative look on his face.
"Oh, Madame. I don't want to talk to him! Raoul would have killed him out there… I feel sick at the thought of it… Please, just make Raoul go away. I can't even visit my father's grave without them tugging at me like little boys fighting over a toy! I just want to be alone! For once in my life, I want to be left alone!" I was weeping as I rose and fled the dormitory. Raoul made as if to follow me, but he was stopped by Meg. I went to the only place I knew I would be undisturbed- the chapel. I lit the candle and began to sing under my breath… the song… the lullaby, in hopes that it would comfort me as it has always done. But at that moment, all I could think of was the last verse… and how suddenly it sang to me of death and loss.

Love to thee my thoughts are turning

All through the night

All for thee my heart is yearning

All through the night

Though sad fate our lives may sever

Parting will not last forever

There's a hope that leaves me never

All through the night.

But it was more than that… It wasn't just death and parting that was mentioned, but of hope… And I think I found the strength that I'd been wanting in the cemetery. I stood, brushed my skirt and made ready to leave the chapel. All I needed was to fetch a wrap- it's always cold in the cellars.

Raoul was in the doorway. I should have known, but I foolishly hoped that I could avoid any confrontation. Oh how I dreaded it. I knew what he was here for, what he wanted me to do, and I could not bear the thought.

"Christine. You're not to go anywhere alone, not until after the performance."

"So you're going to go through with this scheme? I won't do it." That spine I thought had been in abeyance was beginning to get a little stronger.
"Christine, darling, you have to. The whole plan hinges on the fact that you are to perform! You're just over-wrought… What did that monster do at the cemetery before I arrived?"

"I'm not over-wrought. And he has never done anything to harm me. Rest your heart on that score."

"While he lives, he will haunt us until we are dead and buried, Christine! We must do this. For all our sakes." Raoul put his arms upon mine and tried to pull me into an embrace. I jerked back, horrified.

"I will not be a party to murder. And that is what you plan. Cold-blooded murder. No. I will not do this. If he dies- the moment one gendarme takes aim at him- I will leave and you will never see me again." My stand taken, I left him speechless in the chapel.

I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter… Two more to come! My tale is winding down to a close, and I hope that my few and faithful readers will stay on the ride till the end. Remember, keep your arms and legs in the gondola at all times, we do not wish to tempt the Siren.
Please Review, my birthday is Saturday, and reviews are the best presents a girl can get.

Warmest Regards, K.S.