Raoul rode home silently in his father's carriage. The elder De Chagny doing what he did best, socializing, had decided to remain at the Starboard to entertain his guests. The general masses were so easily impressed Raoul thought to himself. Fine food, flowing liquor, and dubious praise winning them over easily. No doubt they would again be eager to offer their services to the De Chagny family whenever needed.
Raoul drifted off into a sleep of sorts, exhaustion from the physical strains, lack of sufficient sleep, and mental exhaustion from the tormenting anguish he felt.
He smiled briefly thinking of the encounter with Meg and Madame Giry. He always wondered at how both Christine and Meg had been raised by the same woman, lived in the same dorms, dressed in the same clothes, and yet Meg was so easy to impress, while Christine had been more difficult, preferring depth and substance to anything superficial. She'd not been won over by a simple smile, or kind act, for her it had taken much more. Perhaps that is what made him love her all the more…she wasn't like the others.
Raoul sighed to himself. Would he have to one day marry a woman who swooned at his every glance? It was flattering to be admired, but he desired to be loved for him, not his name or social standing. Still, it made him smile to think of Meg blushing. She was the closest he had been to Christine in days, and in an odd way it comforted him. Perhaps it was the shared grief he thought to himself as he nodded off.
XXXXX
Downstairs Sara sat in her room reading before bed. The house was quiet now, except for the purring of the cat that now lay curled up in her lap, and the squeak of the rocker as she moved back and forth.
How brief this enjoyment had been. Not a week before the letter had arrived, and now her guests were departing the next day. She'd pack them a nice lunch for their ride, she thought to herself.
She rose from her chair, cat dropping to its feet below. Looking out at the night sky from her window, she noticed how clear it was, and how bright the stars shone against the coal-black backdrop of the night sky. The streets were now empty, with the exception of the lone drunkards who wandered their way home.
She was tired, but it was a happy tired. As she got ready for bed she thought once more about how oddly familiar Madame Giry's uncle seemed to her. It was something that tugged at the back of her mind about his laugh…almost like she'd heard it before. She shook her head dismissing it, knowing it was highly unlikely they'd ever crossed paths before. She climbed into her bed, cat at her side and thought about her guests as she fell off into a sweet sleep.
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Meg and Madame Giry were in their rooms reading from the books that they had brought with them from the Opera House, some they hadn't looked at in years. "Mother, do you remember reading this one to me?" Meg held up a book with a little yellow duckling on the cover. Madame Giry smiled, "why yes, it was one of your favorites." Meg curled up next to her mother like she did when she was but a young girl.
"Read a couple of pages to me won't you?" Madame Giry smiled "sweet silly Meg," but she began. "Once upon a time, there was an ugly duckling…" Meg fell off to sleep not long after the first few pages. Madame Giry put the book down, caressing her daughter's cheek, pushing back the blonde whisps that fell across her forehead. Madame Giry was grateful to have Meg…and grateful that they would be together for some time to come…with Erik and Christine. She leaned back against the headboard, listening to the utter silence, and in those fading moments was at peace.
XXXX
Christine shivered. Even in Erik's embrace under his thick cloak, the chill of the evening air was seeping in. Her back was still warm, leaning against the chimney had seen to that. Her nose was red at the tip, and a frosty haze was filling her eyes. Erik sat starting out at the City, humming a soft melody.
"You'll miss it won't you." Christine said looking up at Erik. "Hmmmm?" Erik turned to her looking at the pink at the end of her nose and reaching up his warm palm to thaw it. "The City, you'll miss it?" Christine said again.
Erik shifted his attentions to Christine, pulling her closer. "Yes, I suppose I shall. Looking out at the city as it sleeps….reminds me of all the nights I've looked down at it before." Christine looked up at him again, curious look on her face as if asking him silently to tell her more.
"All of the years that I spent here…at the Opera House…the only time I ventured outside was after dark, when none would be looking. I spent many hours on the roof of the Opera House…looking down at houses….watching as their lights went out, as families went to bed….." Christine put her arms around Erik's waist and hugged him tightly. It would no doubt take years to erase those thoughts, if ever they would stop tormenting him. Erik continued, his eyes a bit dewy, "I often wondered if I would ever have a home…a family…." He trailed off.
Christine nuzzled under his cloak, her cold nose touching his neck, her warm lips quickly erasing the offense. "I'd almost given up hope….resolved myself to the fact that it wasn't to be…for me." Erik felt his words catch in his chest, a sob rising to his throat.
Christine looked up at Erik. His face now glistened with a single tear trailing down his cheek. Expecting to see his face twisted in pain, she smiled as she realized he was smiling too, now looking down at her. He had a beautiful smile…his eyes danced when he smiled. Christine rose up to meet Erik's lips. She was bringing him happiness he never knew….he was bringing her the happiness she had only dreamed of.
Erik scooped Christine up into his arms, wrapping his cloak around her, to protect her from the frosty night air. He walked along the rooftop, staring once more out at the city, singing softly, something in French. "What does it mean Erik?" Christine asked in a whisper. "It means good-bye fair city, I've gone to be with my love." Erik smiled at Christine as he lowered her to her feet, embracing her.
He lifted her hand to his shoulder, grasping the other in his. He slid his arm around her waist, and began to glide across the roof, slowly turning her, singing softly. The outside world fading once more into oblivion, the stars shining down on the lovers, the lights of the city twinkling below…yes indeed, Christine would one day have to tell their children how very romantic their father was.
XXXX
The carriage lurched to a stop in front of Raoul's house, the coachman hopping off to open the door for Raoul. He was barely awake as he thanked him and slipped off into his study.
He glanced at the decanter on the shelf, now refilled, and then over at the floor by the fireplace, it too had been swept, all traces of his embarrassment erased. He glanced back at the decanter once more before deciding against it. He was tired tonight, a sleepy tired, so perhaps he would actually sleep…it was worth a try. He wandered off to the kitchen, poured himself a cup of hot water from the kettle that was always on the stove, and submerged a tea ball in the cup, taking it back to his room. Chamomile, it was Christine's favorite.
Once in his room it took him no time at all to slip into his bedclothes. He stood by the fire, waiting for his tea to steep. The crackling of the fire, Raoul decided, would never hold the same sweetness after watching as it hungrily devoured the Opera House. It was soothing yes, but only when given a short leash.
He sighed deeply, recalling again his visit with Meg and Madame Giry. He hoped to be able to bring them good news in the coming days. He glanced back to his bed and decided to recline. Sitting there staring up at the ceiling he closed his eyes, trying to find the words to pray. "Thank you that they were alright…that someone was caring for them. Please help us all as we…." His thoughts trailed off as exhaustion overtook him. There he sat, slumped in the bed asleep, tea cooling on the side table.
XXX
Erik led Christine back to their room, the cool air on their heels, their warm hearts comforting them. Once inside, Erik lifted Christine onto the bed, carefully removing her cape, and then silently, tenderly, removing all barriers between them one by one. Each time things became more familiar, more natural. Christine felt loved. Erik was more tender than she could have ever imagined. The room was silent aside from the sweet utterances of this new husband and wife. Somewhere far up in the night sky a shooting star took flight, blazing across it at the speed of light. Tonight was more special than the two of them could ever have imagined, but they would learn in time.