Dear Faithfuls: A slightly more complex, longer chapter. My form of advance apology for having to be gone yet again. There are many twists and turns ahead for the characters in our story, and this chapter is but a glimpse of what is to come. I did not mean to leave you with a cliffe, but do remember that things are not always as they seem.
Erik had made his way back to the stable. Peering inside the sleigh to make certain all of his requests had been put in order. The pot had been affixed to the floor, a heavy latched cover tightly on the top so as to keep the coals inside if the sleigh tipped. It was a most unusual arrangement he knew, but he'd have to see to keeping her warm for as long as he could. Their trip would no doubt take a bit longer, but then again the snow provided opportunity to travel in a different way. There were few who likely knew the land between Chauesser and Paris better than he, perhaps a regular courier, but Erik had oft made the trip without the use of roads. He could take them in a much different route. If the snow was as firm as it appeared to be, they should have no trouble at all traveling as the crow flies.
Erick glimpsed at Erphan, taking took notice that the young man was properly dressed; an eager look of anticipation in his eyes. A sword on his belt and a gun on his shoulder; he was prepared. Erik had already stowed several items of his own inside the covered sleigh. He joined Erphan. "You'd best get something warm in your stomach. The horses will soon finish their oats. I shall retrieve Christine." He put his hand on his shoulder, looking him squarely in the eye. "It is a good thing that you do; a considerable thing that I ask of you. You know the risks do you not, with Crawlings still on the loose?"
Erphan never flinched. Returning Erik's gaze. "Monsieur, I would not have it any other way. You've taken such care of your household, even from a distance, it is now time for us to return that favor…It is my honor sir."
Erick felt a brief smile cross his face. Erphan was incorrigible, there was no doubt of it. But he was teachable, and every encounter Erik had with him reaffirmed as much.
Erik patted him on the shoulder, "very well, let us see to the last of it and we will be on our way." Erik turned and walked back toward the house. He'd try one last time to convince Christine to stay, though he knew of her stubbornness. She was a woman in so many ways, but parts of her were still childlike. Most women would never have wanted to venture out in her condition. Most children begged not to be left behind. She was a combination of both. Erik was certain of one thing however, she was a brave woman, and a strong one…whoever had the courage to love him, truly love HIM, had to be, and then some.
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Nicole walked quietly back to the room where her mother was resting. Going in, she closed the door behind her. She glanced over at her mother's resting form. It wasn't a wonder that the poor woman was tired. She'd never wanted medical attention, always brushing off her fatigue whenever Nicole made mention of it. Her mother had worked hard the entire length of her life. It had certainly been full of its share of heartache. She'd buried her husband and that same year, she was uprooted from the only city she'd ever called home.
Nicole watched as her chest moved slowly up and down under the labor of each breath. She knew the doctor's words would have to be respected, if she'd hope to be of any comfort to the woman. Her mother would not be treated as anything less than she'd always been. She was strong willed, no doubt that is what in part had allowed her to survive the many things she'd witnessed thus far in her life.
Walking over to her mother's side she looked down at her. She wanted nothing more than to be a little girl again. Whenever she'd been frightened, her mother had taken her into her arms and sang her a lullaby. Her fears readily eased, and her heart rested. How she relished those days now, recalling them with great fondness.
Nicole hesitated briefly, then carefully lifted the covers and slid in next to her mother. The woman inhaled and unconsciously slid her arm around Nicole. As Nicole lay in her mother's arms in the dark of the room, she began to cry. So much had happened these last days, and so much more was yet to come. She'd always known one day that she would be separated from her mother by the thief of death…she'd simply not expected it come calling so soon.
Each thought that passed through her mind made her tears flow ever more freely. Her mother would never see her marry, would never know the joys of being a grandparent, would never….. She had to stop. The thoughts were far too painful. She'd have to set her mind to making the coming months as pleasant for her mother as possible.
Nicole took the bottom of her sleeve in her hand, wiping the tears from her eyes. This young doctor….Nicole shook her head. What to make of his offer, she did not know. It made perfect sense that he'd need to become familiar with the city, with the people who lived there, to learn of the customs and so forth. But why such a munificent gesture?
Any doctor would be welcomed into the village with open arms, treated as royalty. The village had not been home to a physician since his grandfather had passed, and one was sorely missed. The next village was an hour away by horse, often too far to take someone who was very ill. The young man was pleasant enough. It was merely chance that he shared in heartaches quite similar to her own. He too shan't have wanted to end up in a city so small, so far from civilized society. Regardless of his own want, here he was, keeping his promise to a man who was no longer alive to know if he'd done so or not. Nicole sniffed, a quiet sob stealing its way from her throat.
The doctor's house had sat empty for several years now, awaiting the arrival of family the city had been told. They'd not realized that it meant that a doctor would be reoccupying it. Indeed they'd sent letters off to several universities inquiring if they'd any students who'd take up residence there, but alas, they'd been turned down flatly. All the most promising graduates had their sites on Paris or London, some eager to travel overseas. The city of Chauesser was simply too far removed from what a young graduated would want.
Perhaps it was as the doctor had said, fate. Fate that had brought them all there. The Monsieur, she, her mother, her grandmother, the elder physician, and now this young doctor. Fate…she was beginning to believe in such things…more every day. As she slipped off to sleep she imagined herself once more a little girl, wrapped up in the safety of her mother's arms. She'd had no drugs for her grievings, but a bit of illusion if she'd give in to it…would allow her the same comfort.
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DeChagny had retired to the library where he'd selected a book from Raoul's collection. He'd settled into the leather chair by the fire, a glass of sherry in his one hand, the book in the other. He'd not mentioned at dinner that he'd intended to be moving his things back to his house, the proper opportunity had not presented itself. He'd take Raoul aside on the morrow and explain. Perhaps it was best that the information be between he and his son, as it really had no affect one way or the other on the other temporary members of the household. It was quiet, it was peaceful, and he was certainly more than relaxed. He'd enjoy the solitude whilst he could. He rather liked his solitude.
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Madame Giry had retired to her room for the evening. She'd taken a pot of tea with her, and was going to give some serious time to her reading. The room was most pleasant, and Madeline had brought in an extra oil lamp from another room, so as to make the light more suitable for reading.
She'd slipped into her nightclothes and off to bed she went, book in hand. It was best, she thought, if Raoul and Meg had the evening to themselves. She smiled. Raoul had been a gentleman from the first. She'd never heard of a ring before one for engagement, but perhaps one day it would be the fashion. It was something of a promise for a future ring.
She'd no doubt in her mind that Meg and Raoul were suitable for one another. What she did not know was if they would be able to overcome the many obstacles that lay in their path; most specifically, what Meg knew that Raoul did not. That one thing may prove to be the sticking point for her daughter. Could she really allow Christine to be dead to her forever? She sighed, for she knew not.
Madame Giry looked down at the book in her hand. It was a needed distraction just now. There was little else that was as suitable for a distraction from the cares of life as a good story, and the one she held in her hands now was certainly that. She opened the book to the page where the ivory ribbon marked where she'd last read. "Ahh yes…" she sipped her tea, glancing at the clock. She'd have at least three hours to devote to the story before she'd need to be off to sleep. It pleased her. A night without events was a welcome one, and she would enjoy every minute of it.
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Nadir and the Baron had been in the sleigh some half an hour or better. The travel had been thus far a relatively pleasant one. The night was without breeze making the temperatures after the sun set much more mild than the previous evening, though it was still much more frigid than an evening ought be this time of year.
The Baron sat thoughtfully examining the events of the past week. So much unpredictability, so much heartache had descended upon so many that he knew…it seemed as if the world had literally gone quite mad, and he was at the center of it having no ability to affect nor change it, only to mend those who evil's hands had harmed.
He glanced over at Nadir. It was an interesting position that he found himself in this evening. He had only made Nadir's acquaintance not long before, but there were so many things about the man that made him seem quite familiar. Now they were in a united mission to protect a family whose interests were quite diverging.
The Baron wanted to see that no harm befell the boy, nay man that Raoul had become, and Nadir, to protect two women who were dear to his heart because of a family friend. In this way they were much alike. There was a synergy about joined forces making them far stronger than singular efforts. He was grateful that Nadir had agreed to accompany him, for the journey had the potential to be treacherous, though it had proved to be silent to this point.
Nadir smiled at the doctor as they sat across from one another. He could tell that the doctor had much on his mind. "Baron, what weighs heavily on your mind?" The Baron glanced at Nadir. "Present situation aside of course, I can tell that something troubles you."
The Baron sighed, perhaps he was not as skilled at keeping his feelings guarded as he'd thought, and Nadir was something of a perceptive man making his efforts to conceal his concerns all that much more futile. "Nadir, what know you of the physician in the village that treated Meg?"
Nadir swallowed, trying to keep his eyes from widening. He'd expected anything but that. "I know he's rather skilled, much experience under in treating wounds. He's a rather convivial man."
The Baron smiled at him. That really wasn't the answer he'd been looking for. "I see. Know you of what university he attended." The doctor looked down, often a physician would mention such things especially when treating a patient for the first time.
Nadir looked at the snow as it rushed by the sleigh. He knew much about the physician, in fact he'd become rather close to the man in all the time he'd spent with Erik. He doubted that the two physician's would ever cross paths, but something about the doctor's interest was a bit unsettling. Truth was always the best route in such situations, but omission of knowledge was likely the most excellent course in this one. "I don't recall much about the man in that regard. I suppose my mind was more occupied with the other things at the time."
The doctor nodded, it made perfect sense. Situations such as the one that found Meg injured were very intense, one could see how much would be forgotten. "I see."
Nadir looked at the doctor. Curious now as to why he'd be asking about him. "Why do you ask sir?"
The doctor smiled, "it is simply that he'd performed his work with such skill in Meg's regard. The salves he'd given her were from Germany. The suture technique used on Meg's cheek…it just seems he might have more recent training than a doctor in a small village might unless he'd studied rather recently. I must confess that several years ago I attended a compulsory workshop where we'd spent considerable time discussing treatment of lacerations, and a new technique had been discussed….I thought perhaps I might have met the man, this session in particular was rather small, meant truly for surgeons, and it was in fact a preeminent surgeon from the Americas that had given the lecture." The doctor looked out at the snow himself, he could hardly confess to Nadir that he was a bit jealous of the skill with which Meg had been treated.
Nadir could honestly say that he knew nothing of it, though he had to admit that would be quite a coincidence, he'd have to ask Erik's physician when next he saw him. "I suppose the possibility is plausible. Perhaps when next I visit Meg's relatives I can inquire on my way through if you like."
The doctor was shaking his head. "No, no, you need to go to no trouble on my account, it was but a bit of curiosity really. I do say that I am grateful for how he'd treated the young girl. She should have but a faint scar on her cheek, barely noticeable as long as she's been religious about applying her salves." The doctor's thoughts wandered back to Meg and Raoul. How he wished the sleigh would carry them faster to DeChagny's. He could only hope that he would find them quite well.
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The boy maintained a respectable distance. It had taken him no time at all to secure the location to which he desired to travel. The drunkards at the tavern across from the Opera House had been most helpful. "The sleigh that's just leavin' now, that's where they're headed, too bad you missed 'em you'd have been able to save yourself the trip." The boy chuckled. He rather doubted they'd have welcomed him into the sleigh.
The City of Paris was a strange one. You could merely spin a small yarn about delivering a package, and the citizens would offer you anything in terms of information. Too trusting…far too trusting. His father had always told him that one could rely upon one thing, that people, the masses, were far too naïve for their own good. They trusted when there was no basis for trust. They'd offer you a meal and a room in their house, where you could find out everything you wanted to know before you plundered their household and left them for dead. Even worse, they'd tell you anything you inquired about their neighbor, or especially about the aristocracy.
They reveled in torrid gossip of them, or pretended they knew them intimately if you seemed you did not. Oh what folly, to let one's own ego cost you that which you held most dear. "Avoid discussions of money or religion, and they will deliver the world to your feet." He heard his father's words. How very true they had proven to be.
The night was calm, making following the sleigh a bit more thorny. He'd have to follow from a greater distance so as not to be detected. Darkness had fallen just an hour or so before, providing assistance. Since he traveled by lone horse he'd not be as easy to find. He would tie up his horse in the woods that would likely lay not far off from Raoul's house. Then he would wait for the house to slumber before he would venture in. He would have to be stealthy, he would have to be cautious. He knew that this last venture was likely to be his last, whether or not he escaped with his life would be in fate's hands. For now all he sought was revenge, indeed it was the very thing that kept him warm now, having lost all else, he could focus on nothing more. He followed the sleigh at distance, something like a wolf does as it stalks his unknowing prey.
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The woman stood alone in the hallway. She could not, nay would not go alone. She looked down at the envelope. What would be the harm if it were delivered in the morning? She knew not, though he'd been rather adamant about it's delivery.
She sighed, who….who would accompany her? She shook her head. She knew of one man, one man alone who feared nothing, he would do it…but not without a favor. No one wished to be indebted to the man, for his favors usually came at the most inopportune time or manner. He wasn't always an honest man, nor was he one that anyone associated with by choice. Only when one needed something that none other would provide did he have the pleasure of company. She shook her head again as she headed toward his workshop.
The man's reputation was one he well deserved. His task had always been to produce the instruments of torture or injury. Props true, but they were based on research of ancient methods from the periods of the Opera house productions. He lived in the lowest inhabited bowels of the Opera House, only venturing out when his services were needed.
The woman shuddered. She feared traveling down to ask this favor of him….nearly as much as she feared traveling to LeMortem street…almost. She closed her eyes as she turned the hall and began her travels down the staircase that led to but one location. Why, oh why had this task fallen upon her, she'd quite simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, or it might well have been someone else. She could feel the cool breezes flowing up under her skirt as she descended. It was as if the extra chill prepared those who ventured there for what they were about to see, for pleasant was neither the place nor the person, and a shudder in this case served one well.
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Raoul sat in the divan next to Meg. He'd been sharing with her of stories from his grandfather's past. She'd become rather intrigued after the travel there that very afternoon, and all that she'd observed on their sleigh ride.
Meg kept glancing at the door to her room that lay quite open. It was necessary, for propriety's sake she knew. She and Raoul would be thankful in the end that they'd done it, but for now it seemed like a cruel intrusion into a private world between two people who'd already been through much more together than some who were married.
Meg watched Raoul as he became rather animated. The features of his face were even more pronounced in the glow of the fire. The chiseled outline of his jaw, his noble brow, his certain gaze. He was most decidedly a handsome man. Meg mused, it was quite obvious he had great admiration for his grandfather, almost so much so that one could quite easily have imagined that he'd wished his grandfather had been his father.
"This story I hold with particular fondness, it gives the account of the boat, you remember the one we saw that was wedged in the trees?"
Meg nodded as she settled in beneath the blanket he'd laid across her lap. He held her right hand. Caressing it with his thumb as he told the story using his other hand to add embellishment with gesticulations.
"He and his clan of friends," Raoul looked at Meg with a smirk in his eye, "they'd taken the boat from one of the young man's father's barn. They'd done so quite without permission, hoping to spend the day fishing in the pond not far from the place we sat in this very afternoon. The boys had been given the task of clearing brush built up from the branches that had fallen during the previous winter. It was spring of the year, and the last thing the young men had wanted to do was work the entire day. They'd reasoned that they could spend the morning fishing and then work doubly hard that afternoon gathering branches and taking them back in the wagon."
Raoul smiled at Meg. No doubt his grandfather had been a bit mischievous in this particular adventure, or Raoul would not have that twinkle in his eye as he recanted the story. "My grandfather you see, it was his property that had been the source of the excuse for the young lads. The father's had all conversed of it, and all had agreed that it would be time well spent, seeing as how their efforts could easily be measured by the height of the wagon when they returned that afternoon. A rather large lunch basket had been prepared, and the boys departed with serious looks on their faces, to which their father's took great pride. Perhaps the young boys were growing up a bit after all."
Raoul repositioned himself, looking more directly at Meg. No doubt this was his favorite part. "My grandfather had driven the horse in the general direction of the woods. One of the other boys served as a lookout, and when he could no longer see the house, the wagon took a rather abrupt turn toward the other boy's farm. You see, entire families had traveled to my grandfather's house, so he was certain that save the maids, they would be able to travel undetected. They'd load the boat and be on their way. Well, once they'd put the boat on the wagon they'd headed off toward the lake. The day was yet early, and they'd thought themselves to at have at the very least three hours of undisturbed peace on the placid pond. It was not long before the boys found themselves at the water's edge, pushing the boat into the water. They celebrated in their efforts, splashing about, which of course, is quite counterproductive when one plans to fish."
Raoul was smiling at Meg. "They'd been out in the center of the pond for a few minutes only when they began to paddle on towards the small quiet part of the pond, where they knew from previous experience the largest fish tended to hide. Now they'd not traveled the pond from side before, so it came as something of a surprise when they heard a rather large noise, and suddenly the boat began to take on water. They began to bale water but it was no use. A rather large hole had been ripped in the bottom, by what, they'd not find out until later. Soon they found themselves swimming and scrambling to the shore, no sign of the boat above water was to be seen. The boys were vexed as to what to do. How would one explain that a boat had gone quite missing? They eventually decided to go about gathering wood and clearing the brush, in hopes that an epiphany would come to them. Sadly it did not. Soon the sun was lowering in the sky, hailing the end of the afternoon. The boys hauled in the rather high load of brush. The fathers seeing them from a distance were quite pleased, they'd been right about the boys, they were becoming men." Raoul smiled at Meg, "or so they'd thought!" He chuckled. "When my grandfather shared this story with me, he still had a rather contrite look on his face, all those years later."
Raoul smiled again, rubbing his thumb along the back of Meg's hand. An affectionate touch that Meg had come to relish, "It was not until the boys arrived in the yard that the fathers noticed the rather guilty looks they had on their faces. My grandfather had taken the burden upon himself to be the bearer of the news. After the confession, the boys were sent to chop wood, a full load for each, no matter how dark the night became. The fathers took up the wagon after it was unloaded, and headed off for the woods. Several hours later they returned, finding that the boys had been most obedient, large stacks of wood next to each boy. The fathers never said a word, and no boat was in the back of the wagon. Nothing more was said of it that night. The families shared dinner together as though nothing happened, though the boys remained uncharacteristically silent throughout the meal, a pleasant deviation for the others at the table!" Raoul smiled at Meg, then glanced into the fire.
Meg sat silently waiting for Raoul to continue. When he did not, she inquired, "so what happened, what became of the boat?" Raoul glanced at her out of the corner of his eye mischievously.
"My grandfather said that it was over a week before the boys were allowed to be in one another's company. The fathers had said not a word, but had given each an extra portion of chores to do to remind them of their deed. It wasn't until the next Saturday when the families gathered again, that they were permitted to roam about. Their curiosity getting the better of them they wandered back down toward the pond. Just after they crossed the tree line they realized why the boat had not been returned. There, at their typical meeting place before venturing into the woods was the boat, wedged into the trees just as you saw it when we passed. Later that evening when all the families had left, my grandfather went to his father, he simply had to know. It was then that his father taught him an object lesson. He told him that the boat was to serve as a reminder of what could happen when one was disobedient. The boat had been ripped open by a rather large tree that had been put in that part of the pond years before. The tree, along with several others and a rather large group of fieldstones had been put there by the boy's father's. There had been a natural whirlpool there. That very group of friends had lost one of their own to it on a summer afternoon. They'd been sent out by their fathers to do some sort of work or another and had decided instead to spend the afternoon swimming. Because of their disobedience, their friend had drowned, being pulled under by the current and they'd not been able to save him. They'd spent the remainder of the summer mourning his loss, and throwing every object they could find in the pond to fill the spot where the boy had gone down. Though the whirlpool eventually ceased to exist, the sting of their memory did not. Nothing they could do would ever relieve the burden of their disobedience. My grandfather understood then why the boat had been wedged in the trees. It was to serve as a constant reminder of what had happened, and what could happen if one chose to be disobedient. My grandfather and his friends had vowed never to remove the boat, it would be their reminder. The boys did grow up in a single afternoon. They never looked at their play in the same way. Perhaps the lessons of their fathers had proven to be most poignant."
Meg stared at Raoul. No doubt this story had meant a great deal to him. Not only because he could imagine his grandfather traveling those woods, waging his mischief with his friends, but also because he respected the lesson his grandfather taught him. No doubt there would be many more. Meg closed her eyes. She could almost picture it. Raoul sharing this story with their children. Their great-grandfather's life would becomes something of a legend for them, and they'd have the privilege of wandering the very woods where he had as a young boy.
Raoul sighed, patting Meg's hand. "Do you grow tired of my stories?"
Meg smiled, smoothing her hand over his, "never, I could listen to the stories all evening. It helps me to understand a man who meant a great deal to you, whom I will never meet. He lives on in your spirit Raoul."
Raoul smiled at her, "indeed he does. He was a most special man." Raoul's head spun to the side. He heard the dogs in the yard making quite a commotion. "Whoever could that be?" It had been long enough that he assumed the sleigh driver to have stayed in the city with Nadir. Raoul looked outside, he could see nothing, but he knew that the animals had. "Meg, I shall be but a minute."
Meg's face changed to a look of concern. "what is it Raoul?"
He shook his head, "I do not know, I shall check." He stood moving toward the door, turning to look at Meg. "Perhaps you should join your mother in her room…and do stay away from the windows won't you." More of a gentle order than a question.
He looked at her, beckoning her to rise. She did, joining him in the door. He leaned down placing a tender kiss on her cheek. "Do not worry Meg, it is likely nothing." He escorted her to Madame Giry's room, placing a gentle rap on the door before he descended the servant's stairs in the rear of the house.
Madame Giry called out, "come in."
Meg entered going immediately over to her mother's bed pulling up the covers and climbing in without invitation.
"Whatever is it Meg, did you and Raoul quarrel?" Posing the question though she doubted its veracity.
"We don't know mother, Raoul heard something, he's gone to check." Meg slid over next to her mother.
"Shhhh…Meg, it is alright, I'm sure it's just the wind."
Author's Notes:
Phantomsrogue: Thank you for the compliment on the chapter. I am never quite sure how the Phamily will warm to the addition of new characters, especially ones that serve only a small perfunctory purpose. Some we get quite attached to, such as Sara, and then they are gone. We will see a few more popping up here and there for a chapter or two.
It is fun to hear that everyone is rooting for Nadir to make a swift end to the Crawling boy himself, thus sparing Erik and encounter…we have all grown rather protective of our darling Phantom haven't we! LOL! We have become something like a den full of mother bears protecting a pair of cubs named Erik and Christine! Now our poor Nicole…she has had her share of heartbreak hasn't the poor dear! I imagined her crawling into the warmth of her mother's arms, wondering what in the world would have brought her here, under such circumstances to such a place….perhaps we can imagine for her what her future might hold, and it might very well be something much more than one could ever have imagined.
Now on to your comments about the "classics" most often I agree that the classic version of any production is so much better than any that follow, with a several notable exceptions: 'Phantom of the Opera' of course, 'Sabrina', 'Parent Trap'. I like the re-makes much better than the originals for those. As for holiday movies, I am a sucker for 'Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer'. I have to watch it every holiday, oh that and 'Miracle on 34th Street'. I agree with your opinion of the new 'Grinch' remake, it was not good at all in my opinion.
Yes, moving offices is not much fun. I've had the same one now for a few years, thankfully. When we moved the last time it was quite a big production as we were moving into a brand-new building which I helped design, so it was fun, yet very stressful at the same time. I don't envy the work you have ahead of you!
I shall try to find the e-mail address you suggest! Yes 'The Darker Side' will take shape. The difficult part of plotting the chapters out in advance is that sometimes you have an inspiration while penning one chapter, that affects the next…I tend to be a bit fluid in that regard. I cannot tell you how many times I've changed my mind about something as I was writing and the spirit of the story moved me.
Bon Soir!
Nordygirl: I loved your song, it is funny, I can hear the music in my head as I'm reading it! LOL! Now, as for your suggestion that there should be an anti-critic society out there, I completely agree! The people who are so "educated" in the movie industry simply do not know what a movie-goer is interested in seeing. What 'they' think is wonderful, is usually trash, and visa-versa. I for one usually hate the movies that the critics like. In fact if a critic says its one of the best they've seen, I can almost always bet I'm not going to like it. I do think that the industry has lost touch with what people really want. We want things that are a bit mysterious, fun, exciting, a good love story, and the like. They far too often put in junk, and I do mean junk, that people don't want to see, but they have to tolerate it simply because they want to see the other parts of the movie. I think we should be able to walk away from a movie and feel good about it, unless of course it is based on a true story, and those often don't have the most uplifting endings. But as far as fiction goes, they need to get back to what people really want, because I think they would see those box-office numbers rise if people could feel like they could go to the show and actually enjoy it. Steps down from soap box Hmmmm….
I think I might have a word for you to describe POTO…. Flawlessness…and it's already a word! Or for a new word how about …. Quintessentialfection! LOL!
Have a great weekend!
Phantomfan13: Do not worry my dear, there is much yet to be done for this family. An ending is not near. I am happy to see that you are keeping up with our little story!
Have a great time at 'Harry Potter', I know there are so many out there who have been simply dying to see it!
Phantomphorever: It is good to hear from you my dear! I too wonder of Erik's reaction to being back in the Opera House, back in that lair yet again. So much has changed in his life, but so much of his life has not changed inside of him. I do hope that he can find some sort of peace with it.
Do not be sorry about your comments on the movie. I think you would find that there are many in our Phamily who share the same sentiments! I for one, am glad to hear that there are others out there who examine different scenes of the movie like I do. I agree about the kisses. I can only imagine the heartache both of them had at that very moment. It was something that both of them longed for on so many levels…it said so much about their relationships…and the truest form, the purest form of love, that he had to let her go for her own good, NOT because he thought she wanted Raoul more than him, but because HE (Erik) wanted her to have the life he never thought he could provide for her. But there is a moment of intense love in that scene, I agree with you completely. Now, I have to admit that tonight when I finally get home from work, I am going to pop in POTO and look at the scene with the ring. I never noticed (hard to believe!) that she pushed the ring back on before she took it off…I will be looking for it…that will make it all that much-more bittersweet. Sniff Then, the look on Erik's face, that momentary glimmer of hope, that was quickly dashed, when she'd come back, he thinking that maybe she had chosen him….it was heartbreaking…. Now, as for the music box, I think Raoul gave it to her as a parting gift, as you said, acknowledging that she had always loved the Phantom, though she had shared her life with Raoul. Then for him to find the ring and the rose there, he realized then that the Phantom had been there as well, and that he had loved her all those years….there was a look of resignation on Raoul's face as he realized he couldn't begrudge the Phantom the right to put something there…it was almost as though in returning the ring, Erik was acknowledging that he knew she had loved both men. Sort of complicated, but I think you know what I mean.
Have a great weekend…and keep up the good work!
SilverRains187: Welcome to the Phamily! It is quite a commitment to have come this far in the story! We are always happy to welcome new members into the fold! If you've come this far, it is obvious that you are as crazy for the idea of Erik and Christine being together as the rest of us! LOL! Thank you for the compliment on the story…I am so very happy to have been able to share this dream with others….it warms my heart beyond belief…
Now, as has become tradition for our Phamily…we simply must know how you've come to your tag name. I would have guessed something equestrian, if you'd spelled your name with reins instead of rains, and the number, I've come to find that the numbers usually represent something very special to the person themselves. Hmmmm…silverrains187…. You are either very whimsical, and the thought of silvery rain gives you a giddy feeling as you imagine it pattering to the ground in a fairy story….or perhaps you are someone who works with the metal…perhaps has a fascination with making jewelry…. I have to admit I'm not terribly good at guessing…just a few things that came to mind! Now, if you are willing, please do share with your new Phamily!