Chapter 121 Perfect Storm

The storm raged throughout the night. All of France was covered in a thick white blanket of fresh snow. There was nary a sign of it slowing down. There seemed to be an endless supply of moisture fueling what would surely go down in history books as the Perfect Storm.

Every small building was either entirely covered or heavily blanketed with layer upon layer of snow that had either fallen or been drifted there by the swirling winds. Those that had prepared would survive, those that had not, would likely perish. For it would be days before anyone could move about, save the fortunate few who had tools to tunnel through to care for their animals. One could only hope that in the aftermath, that Mother Nature's appetite had not been too great.

XXXXX

Raoul had fallen asleep with Meg in his arms on the divan in front of the fireplace in her room. He had pulled a blanket up over her as they talked late into the night. They'd had a bit of sherry, a pot of tea, some cookies, and all manner of things that one does when up until that hour. Finally they'd given in to their exhaustion. Meg had managed to slip out in the middle of the night to check the hallway and all the places she'd been that day inside the house. She had found nothing. Now all she could hope is that the pages were buried far beneath the snow outside, and for that, all she could do is wait.

XXXX

Down the hall, Madame Giry too had fallen asleep in the chair by the fire in Nadir's room. He'd taken out a heavy blanket and covered her. He'd tried to wake her, but had no success. The dear woman was no doubt weary from her labors. He'd retired to his own bed across the room from where she now slept. He'd opened the door to her room, and the one to his in case she'd wake during the night. Perhaps this would become a common occurrence…leaving the doors open...he thought he'd rather like that.

XXXXXX

Downstairs DeChagny had finally woken up and stumbled over to the large sofa in the study. He was far too tired, and far too weary to carry himself all the way upstairs. The room was sufficiently warm, and he sufficiently sleepy…they were a perfect match. From the looks of what he could see out of the window, it wouldn't matter if everyone slept until well past dawn the next day, they wouldn't be traveling so much as outside.

XXXXX

The city of Chauesser had fared the worst in the storm, or at least they'd thought so. The door to the inns were entirely sealed shut by a number of feet of snow. The winds had howled through the streets, causing drifts the size of the rolling hills that surrounded the city. It was a sight they hoped they shan't see again in a great number of years.

There had been feeble attempts made by innkeepers to push doors open and clear their walks, but the snow continued to fall, making their labors an effort in futility. There were a few brave men who'd ventured out in snow shoes. Mostly benevolent souls traveling from roof to roof to make sure chimney's weren't impacted with snow.

The outer silence was a perfect camouflage for all the activity that went on beneath the snowy roofs. Inside, there was no lack of activity as guests and innkeepers settled into a routine that would need to be managed for a few days at the very least.

XXXX

Up on a distant hill sat a stately house. It had been battered by the chilling winds, and caked on all sides by snow that stuck to it nearly like a layer of thick frosting. The icy covered pane of one window remained cleared, she had insisted upon it. She wasn't a demanding woman, but she felt she must always keep a watchful eye on the city she cherished so dearly.

She prayed for the citizens of the village as she looked down at the chimneys barely breaking through the thick blanket of snow. They looked like tiny sprigs of grass popping out of the ground at the first hint of spring she thought.

She imagined the children playing in the houses, making all sorts of mischief, being held prisioner by the snow outside. She smiled, a gentle tear running over her lower lid, she reached up to catch it lest anyone would notice.

A woman in a proper maid's uniform came round the side of the chair she sat in, "more tea mum?" "Hmmmm yes…thank you." She'd no desire to leave the window. Everything she'd lived for these past thirty odd years was in that village….and just beyond…though she didn't know it yet.

XXXXX

The stable master had roused the entire staff in the carriage house at dawn. They'd had their hot breakfast, though a bit scant as they couldn't get to the house to resupply. Coffee was always flowing, and there were the remnants of the grand dinner they'd enjoyed the night previous to nibble on.

They were thankful for the interior connections to the other parts of the stable, for they'd been able to retrieve their shovels and picks, that had already been packed away thinking the season for their use entirely over. They'd gone out with their large snow rakes and snow shoes. They'd see to removing the snow from their roof first, lest it cave in under the weight.

They'd spent the last three hours trying to make some headway so that they could at least open the stable doors for fresh air for all the horses and livestock. The last of the reserves of the winter hay were given the animals, there was but supply for another week, and they hoped it wouldn't be that long before things would return to normal, or they'd all be left wanting for something to eat!

In all of their labors, they'd forgotten about the trouble with the carriage driver the night before. He'd taken up shovel and pick, shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the men, earning him a bit of clemency.

Several of them had made it over to the house on snowshoe and had begun to shovel away the snow from the porches. They'd next need to find access to the roof, for certainly a fair amount of snow had fallen there. They'd drawn straws for it. It wasn't an easy task, but the view of the city from there was worth the effort alone.

XXXXX

Inside, Madeline had been awake for hours. She'd been baking up breakfast rolls, breads, and several more pies, a chocolate cake, a spice cake, and rice pudding. She'd already begun stewing several large pots of meat and broth, to which she'd add the vegetables she now was preparing.

She'd no reason to complain for all the work. The rest of the staff had been stuck over in the carriage house, and she'd no doubt they'd been busy taking care of all the men there. At least she was in the warmth of her own surroundings, and had the peace and quiet she was certain they were lacking. She'd slept in her own bed, and had a fresh change of clothing in the morning. No, she was the lucky one.

XXXXX

"Hmmmm…." Erik's voice seemed to come out of him though he was not yet awake. He could hear knocking…a distant knocking… He was so comfortable…so sleepy. There it was again, only this time a bit more insistent. He opened his eyes. They were still in the library. He looked down, Christine was peacefully asleep in his arms. They'd fallen asleep…after. He smiled, kissing her on the forehead.

The knocking again. If they'd reason to be that persistent, he needed to respond. "Just a moment will you." He called out in as hushed a tone as he could manage. Erik slipped from beneath the covers, quickly noting the chill in the air. He turned round and pulled the covers up under Christine's nose. He slipped on his smoking jacket, lashing it about his waist. He turned and put another log in the fireplace, pushing about the embers to start the fire anew.

Erik quietly walked over to the door, unlatching it. The maid stood there, eyes averted. "I'm dreadfully sorry sir to disturb you, but Erphan asked if I might inquire…" she could barely bring herself to ask.

Erik looked at her, at first he felt irritation for being bothered, and would have liked nothing more than to shoo her away with an indignant wave of his hand….but…that was the old Erik. He exhaled, "what is it that Erphan needs woman?"

She still didn't look up, "I'm afraid they've gotten the plow stuck sir. They were going to lash it to the horses, but it needed to be turned round, and now they've wedged it in the snow, and they…"

Erik knew what was needed, he'd spare her and not make her ask forthright. "Allow me to dress. Do tell Erphan that I shan't be more than a few minutes." He looked back over his shoulder. Christine was well covered. "And do see to building up the fire for her won't you? And to some breakfast; whatever she desires."

The maid curtsied, "as you wish sir." She turned to do as instructed. Erik watched her walk down the hall for a second, then thought, "and thank you….do tell me, what is your first name again?"

The maid looked nearly horrified at him, "Misty sir," she stammered, "my name is Misty."

Erik smiled at her nodding his head, "and thank you Misty, for bringing this to my attention." She nodded her head, and turned. A broad smile crossed her face….he'd asked her name.

XXXX

Nicole had fallen asleep against a large pile of dirty linens. She'd been up all night making beds, running coffee, and generally lending a hand wherever it had been needed.

The dining room had turned into a gathering place of sorts. There wasn't much other place for those who were awake to sit, and being in one's room could only be tolerated for so long. She'd found this quiet corner to rest in for but a few winks. One of the other staff came through, accidentally bumping into her as she passed.

"I'm sorry Nicole, I didn't mean to wake you." She said politely offering the apology.

"Wake me…oh dear…how long have I been sleeping?" The other woman just shrugged her shoulders and went about her duties. Nicole stood, wiping under eyes, straightening her dress. She had to get home, no doubt her mother and grandmother would be looking for her.

She was quickly bundled and ready to go out into the storm. She knew she'd be climbing over the mountains of snow that were outside, but she'd have to do it.

Her employer came up to her just as she was at the door. "Here, take this with you. A thank you to you and your family for helping us." He handed her a pack with a warm breakfast in it, enough for three, and several loaves of the bread she'd helped make in the wee hours of the morning.

"Thank you sir, they will enjoy this very much." This would save her time when she got home, for no doubt they'd be hungry. She wrapped her scarf around her face, shivering as the two stableman came in the front door. They'd managed to clear a small path to the edge of the courtyard, though it was already starting to fill back in.

"Good travels to you miss." They said as they passed her. She'd not have far to go, but it would be a journey none-the-less.

"If you should need anything…" She said to her employer.

"Go home, rest, take care of your grandmother my dear, we shall be fine." In truth he wouldn't have minded if she had stayed, she was the hardest worker he had, and decidedly the most dedicated.

Nicole shivered hard as the cold winds battered at her cloak. Walking to the edge of the courtyard, she looked up at the bank of snow…there was little choice, she'd have to climb it. She'd tucked the breakfasts into her bag, which she'd slung over her shoulder under her cloak, she now looked like a hunch back climbing into the snow, a sherpa of sorts. She sunk up to her knees into the snow, a shrill cold ran up her legs as she was headlong into climbing it.

Her employer watched from inside the warmth of the inn. That, he decided, was a young woman who loved her family. She would make a wonderful wife someday. He shook his head, and headed back to his guests. There was much to do, much to do indeed.

Nicole was out of breath as she pulled herself in the door. It had been her good fortune that the large pine tree that hovered irritatingly close to the front door had provided a little shelter to the entrance at least allowing her to find the door in a wind-swept cove carved by the winds that had swirled around it.

She shook her cloak, and the folds of her dress. She was soaked through and through. No doubt the breakfast would be cold now, it had taken her much longer than she'd hoped, but she was home, she was safe, and she could get some much needed rest.

She climbed the flight of stairs to their flat on the second floor. The door was unlatched, she thought that strange. Perhaps her mother had left it open so that she wouldn't need her key. She pushed open the door, discarding her snow-caked cloak on the rack, her shoes she'd slipped off and carried them over to the fire, along with her stockings. The rocking chairs were empty, no doubt they'd gone off to bed, and with the snow outside, they'd no reason to get up and about.

Nicole went to her small room at the back of the flat, changing into her warm woolen night clothes, slipping on a fresh pair or warm socks. She went about warming up a pan for their breakfast. She started some coffee. The extra warmth from the oven felt good on her chilled flesh. She'd put the cover on the pan, and was turning around, the breeze from her swirling blanket caused a piece of paper to take flight. Nicole cocked her head to the side, "whatever can that be?"

She walked over, sleepily rubbing at her eyes, she bent over to pick up the paper. On it was scrawled eleven words that nearly stopped her heart.

She was at once in motion. She returned to the oven, taking everything from the top, closing the doors. She dropped her blanket, running to her room. She found her two pair of woolen trousers, pulling them on along with several pairs of socks, a layer of sweaters. She dug through her closet to find the shortest coat she had, an old one of her father's. She put on her mittens, her hat, and several scarves. She breathed in taking one more look at the note as tears welled in her eyes. She was out the door and down the stairs in three beats of her heart.

On the counter sat the note scrawled in quick verse, "Your grandmother's gone missing. I've gone to find her. Love Mum"

XXXXX

"Push man, push!" Erik leaned heavily on the side of the plow. He and Erphan had taken one side, three men the other. The two of them combined had more strength than the three as their side budged each time they pushed. They'd nearly unwedged it twice, only to have it slip back into place.

"We've got to move that snow there," Erik said pointing at the gully that seemed to provide an attractive place for the plow to rest, thus keeping it wedged. Two of the men quickly took up shovels picking away at the spot he'd pointed to.

He and Erphan stood side by side, puffing in the cold air. Their brows beaded with sweat, which was quickly cooling. "Thank you sir, we'd not be able to do this without you. I know you've some healing to do, and I didn't mean to trouble you, but…"

Erik was looking at him, he was babbling on again. Erik closed his eyes, swallowed once, and then he laughed just slightly. Releasing the clench he'd started to feel in his jaw from the frustration of failure and the annoyance of chatter. "Do not worry Erphan, it was right of you to call upon me. For this is my house, and any work you do on my behalf, is my work. If I'm needed, I'm needed, I'm not above working up a sweat young man!"

Erphan relaxed a bit. He was thankful that Erik had not been angry for being disturbed. He admired his strength and his compassion…he only wished he some day could emulate it. Somewhere out there, there had to be a woman that he could love as Stephan loved his Elizabeth, and he'd no doubt he'd want to treat her with the same respect as he had observed between the two of them.

Erik smiled at Erphan, wondering what he was thinking. The blank stares he got from the man from time to time were a bit unsettling. "Erphan?" Erik said, bringing him back to the present, "are you ready?" The men were finished, they would try again.

"Oh sirs, I do apologize." He leaned his shoulder in once more. The men pushed for all they were worth, groaning under the strain of it. "PUSH! PUSH! PUSH!" Erik was yelling as if his volume would assist them. And much to his pleasure, they were victorious. The plow lay beyond where it was wedged, they could get the horse out and have it harnessed. They could at least make enough room for them to move about, and a path to the house.

Erik stood fully from the position he'd been in, stooped over, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. He'd not exerted himself that hard in a good long while. In part it felt good, the physical nature of it, but it was the twinges in his side that now gave him concern. Perhaps he'd pushed it too far. He'd return to the house, and to Christine…she always made him feel better.

He shook the men's hands, much to their surprise. Turned and went back to the house over the mound of snow that he and Erphan had negotiated to get there. The men stood looking at one another. He was both a gentleman's gentleman, and man of great understanding. They'd be evermore loyal because of it…he was a rarity indeed.

XXXX

Christine was dreaming. It wasn't a wonder that the netherworlds of her mind contained dreams of snow angels and laughing children. That seemed to consume her mind as of late. She'd seen her father again on the mountain top, this time he'd but waived to her. Though the child on his shoulder still puzzled her, the number of children no longer did…there were three. She'd gone on passed this dream into the snowy world, passing a small village, with rooftops and chimneys barely visible, she was flying on the wings of something, she could see white feathers but nothing more. Suddenly they were slowing, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. The creature was taking her passed a house on a hill, flying low enough that she could see a figure in a window. She was straining to see it…yes a singular figure…the eyes… Christine felt herself leaning forward….

She startled awake, she'd felt cold hands on her flesh…she sat up gasping. Had the hands come from the dream? There sat Erik, a playful grin on his face. "I was but warming my hands my dear, you do not mind do you?" He knew better. The look of disquiet on Christine's face was priceless.

"Erik! I was…" He closed the distance between them, burying his cold nose in her neck, his cheek against her chest. "Erik!" she squealed, then she laughed painfully. Her consternation for being disturbed quickly melting as she looked down into his eyes…he was shivering. She lifted the covers. "You best climb in, and let me warm all of you then." She said with a bit of a motherly tone. Erik didn't hesitate to accept the invitation. He was frozen, and nothing warmed him like this woman…nothing.

The maid came to the door of the library, and was ready to open it. She'd brought Christine's tea, and the slice of cake she'd wanted. But hearing the giggles, and the voices from inside, she decided against knocking. A fresh pot of tea could always be made…memories like this not.

Author's Notes:

Captainoblivious: Now, you have to stop all this physical violence! Really, your poor friend doesn't need to be beaten to write you a love song! Have you not heard my dear, the old saying, "You catch more flies with honey than vinegar!" LOL. Yes, if Susie likes him, then he's a keeper. Do not be fooled by his "beemer" as Christine learned, there is more to life than money…love is what one needs! Hmmmm….not that I'm encouraging any developments! And…Patmobile? Well….he might not be the best one to write a love song my dear…it may be rather droll. LOL

O.k., the pages she is missing are the ones that Nadir gave to her that he'd found at the winter house. The note from Erik is still safe and sound in the book…just where she left it. Sorry for the confusion.

Hope you are having a wonderful time at school, and that you, Chris, and "Pat" are having a wonderful start to the year!

Truphan: Welcome to the family! We hope your stay with our Phamily is a long and happy one! We are always excited to welcome new members….the more, the merrier! Thank you for the compliment on the story. I love that you…um…love it! Yes, your observation about Christine knowing French is a good one….however….Christine knew some words, but she'd been raised in an English speaking household by Madame Giry, therefore she was more comfortable with English than French. Erik, being the ever doting husband, wanted to make sure she didn't miss any of the meaning. For me, even though I speak several different languages, sometimes when I hear other people speak it to me, I might miss some of the subtle nuances of what they are trying to say. Maybe that is why I went with that thought when I wrote that part. Hope that makes sense!

Now, as has become our tradition for our Phamily…let's have a stab at your name now shall we? I think it is fairly straight forward….but I've been wrong before! LOL! Tru, of course meaning absolute. The choice of the word "phan" verses fan, means that you are in complete sync with being designated a Phantom fan, so "phan" for short, not to be mistaken for any other sort of fan. Now, if you would be inclined to share, please share with your new Phamily…how did you arrive at your chosen tag name?

Phantomsrogue: Multitasking is certainly an art form! I find myself somewhat irritated if I am not at least doing two things at one time. Preparing dinner, listening to music, doing a load of laundry, and talking on the phone. Eating dinner, typing on my computer and giving myself a facial. Well, you get the idea! There is too much life out there to be lived to waste time doing only one thing at a time. I already sleep only around five hours a day, at most, because I'm afraid I'll miss something! If I didn't multitask, I'd never be able to afford the time to sleep…and that would be a bad thing! LOL

Ah yes, Tchaikovsky…I could go on and on about him. I think it is interesting that he was a composer that lived during the period that our story is set in. That really was a beautiful period of history…everything refined and elegant, and on the other hand so rudimentary and starkly real. One could not live without being earnest, because life was so much shorter then. His music is a perfect blend of happiness, and contrast, and it strikes me as capable in terms of speaking to the soul, as any piece of music that has words. O.K., I'm going to stop, as I said, I could go on and on about him! And, yes, to answer your question…I love Mozart! I agree, there is something of a deep inner draw for me to the darker music of certain composers…I suppose that is how I fell in love with POTO from the musical aspect anyway!

I am ashamed to say I never say 'Interview with a Vampire' though I should have. I just wasn't in a place in my life then that I could have dealt with the gore very well. I really should rent it though because I am about to read the new novel 'The Historian', and as I understand it, the subject matter is very closely interwoven…the whole mystique of Dracula and all. I've no doubt that the music would be wonderful. Have you listened to the soundtrack for 'Batman Begins'? If not, it is entirely instrumental…very haunting. I've added to my odd behavior sometimes playing that music with the window to my living room open…I swear my neighbors don't talk to me often thinking I'm the crazy one on the block!

Now, as for a "southerner" liking anything but "country" music, I must tell you I've never categorized people in any particular way, well, maybe except by nationality when I'm in their country perhaps. I think we are all individuals with our own likes and dislikes. Our geography shouldn't matter because we are usually products of our environment in terms of exposure, but that doesn't determine who we are…WE determine who we are. I suppose some people do, but I think it isn't fair…just because you live somewhere doesn't mean that's what's in your heart and soul…sorry for the side-step, it's just something that I've always thought shouldn't happen…you should be able to like country music, or not, no matter where you hale from!

Thank you for the suggested reading. I am trying not to read other fanfics right now because I don't want to be distracted by other ideas. I know that sounds callous, but I never want someone else's work to influence mine, it sort of feels like I'm not being true to my own work if I do that. And, when I read their work, I want to give it my full attention, out of respect for them. Hope that makes sense. I will keep it on my list of things to read though!

Glad to hear you are a Degas fan! I took ballet when I was younger, along with tap and jazz. I must say I am not the tall, graceful type, so even though it was good for me, and I did learn about poise and such, I never went beyond the fifth year. When everyone was a head taller than me, it looked rather silly at recitals! So, I do have an appreciation for it, and admire its beauty and fluidity, and those that are able to do it with grace! I think Meg and Christine made wonderful chorus girls….and though we never really saw Christine dressed as a ballerina, I'm certain we could all easily imagine it! In fact, I think ballet would make a good form of exercise for Christine during her pregnancy, wouldn't you say?

Tex110: Glad to hear it! I also got the impression that you planned to stick it out with us…thank you…I hope the ride is worth it!

PhantomFan13: Thank you for the compliment on the song. I must admit, it is not the best thing I've ever written, but I wanted it to work for the story, keep to the period and tie in the number of trials and feelings that Erik was having. So, that sort of stifled my creativity because normally poetry just flows out of my subconscious mind without a predetermined path…so this was a bit of struggle for me. Hope it wasn't too "campy!"

Yes, revisions of chapters will likely take place once I am finished with the story. I understand your concerns about Christine's disguise…I'll have to think on that one for awhile. Publishing is something I've thought about at length…but it is rather expensive, and time consuming…but I'm not ruling it out!

I love Niagra Falls, and Niagra on the Lake! The candy shops, I agree…great chocolate there! I had my first, potato-chip covered peanuts there! It was so odd, we don't have those where I live! Do they still have the horse-drawn carriage there? They were at I think it was the "Prince of Wales" hotel, but I'm probably thinking of the wrong hotel name.

Oh, 'Les Miserable'…it is indeed wonderful, and I suppose depending on what sort of story you like, you could enjoy it as much as POTO, but not me…I fell hard for POTO! Even though the others are good, they are not POTO….I've given POTO tickets as gifts…there is nothing like seeing a live production of it….

Finally, the note from Erik will be revealed…..as soon as Meg can get away from everyone else to read it!

Christinelovesphantom: Yes, cheddar and apple pie…I must confess it does sound odd, but it is good…but not as good as chocolate! The part about Sebastian and Pyotr, they are the two men that Nadir visited with at the mercantile while he waited for Erik to conclude his business with the shopkeeper. You might recall that Erik was rather cool towards them when he came to retrieve Nadir. The shopkeeper had warned Erik about those two men…something just didn't seem right about them, and the shopkeeper wanted Erik to know not to trust them. So, it turns out the shopkeeper might be right…they may indeed be up to no good!

I'm glad to hear you are enjoying Erik and Christine together. Every time I watch POTO now, I don't cry as much because I know in the alternate universe our little Phamily is living in right now, that he and Christine are very happy! SAD…I know, but it's what got me writing this story in the first place!

Crayann: Thank you. Sincerely, thank you. It still makes me shake my head sometimes to think that there are people out there reading AND enjoying what I'm writing…it makes the whole experience so much more real for me…I just cannot explain it. The fact that I know that somewhere out there that someone, or in our case a number of someones are coming together everyday, linked by this story, is more than humbling to me…it makes me happy in places that I never knew could contain happiness…. smiles looking down humbly

PhantomLover05: Hope that today went well for you! I gather from your note that you must have tried out for one of the parts?